Word Count: 3,156
Warnings: wincest, explicit sex, cursing, references to almost sexual assault
A/N: This is for my little miss hiddles (ace_of_spades6) whose been down in the dumps lately and I just wanted to cheer her up. And why not use PORN to do so? She wanted some bottom!Sam and jealous/possessive Dean who am I not to oblige? Title blatantly stolen from the same song by death cab for cutie. The beautiful banner was made by the lovely kiscinca. Thank you so much bb it's gorgeous.
Summary: Sam is a horny drunk, a happy drunk, a spiteful drunk, a whiny drunk, an adorable drunk but Sam is also Dean's drunk.
The bar is alight with a rowdy weekend crowd. Beer bottles clinking together, pool balls hitting each other, the low hum of some old 70's song playing through the speakers, laughter and voices carrying on conversations.
Dean takes a swig of his beer as he fiddles with the label that's peeling off. His eyes roaming the bar, calculating each individual, taking stock of them and figuring out if they're a potential threat or not.
His eyes swing from the bartender smooching up some poor sap to a pool game nearby. The two men playing are obviously drunk, just shooting the cue into any ball they can focus on. A girl screams drunkenly every time one of them luckily sinks a ball, making Dean roll his eyes.
He checks his watch again and has to manually unclench his fist and make his heart stop beating so fast. It’s only a couple of weeks ago since the whole benders incident. Dean still gets a little edgy when Sam is out of his sight for long, even if it is just to go to the bathroom.
Swinging his eyes as he takes another gulp of the beer, Dean watches the men’s restroom and visually sighs when Sam's tall form walks out the door, passing by the standard drunk hurrying before he pisses himself.
Sam bumps into the drunk without even a passing glance, his eyes focused solely on Dean, making Dean's stomach flutter with anticipation of those eyes staring at him while doing another activity.
Sam looks away when he realizes Dean's staring back at him with the same amount of intensity, making Dean's predatory grin turn fond at the slight blush he sees. Sam is such a girl sometimes.
Dean's eyes pass by Sam when he notices another set of eyes watching his little brother as well.
Dean instantly seizes the man up, noting he has to be in his early 30's, is tall and well built. He doesn't look like the other bar patrons who usually have long greasy beards and rotting yellow teeth to match.
The man looks out of place, leaning against the back wall in dark jeans and a plain t-shirt. Dean's eyes narrow at the man, taking note of the lust in his eyes as he stares at Sam's ass.
Growling, Dean curls his upper lip, his hand tightening around the beer bottle until his knuckles turn white.
Dean snaps his glare away from the man to Sam, who is now beginning to slide into the other side of the booth. “What?”
Sam eyes shift from Dean to where Dean was star-glaring and furrows his brows. “What was all that about?”
“What do you mean?” Dean feigns ignorance. Taking another long pull of his beer as he surreptitiously glances at the man again noting in satisfaction that the man is no longer staring at Sam.
“That is what I mean. Jesus Dean you're staring at the guy back there like you want to stab him or something.”
Stab? More like fucking castrate the fucker. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
Sam gives him his patented bitch face, clearly not believing Dean's bullshit. “Whatever Dean I really have no patience to argue with you.”
Dean smirks behind his bottle and decides to keep tabs on the guy and his wandering eyes.
As time ticks on, Dean becomes even crabbier. Once Sam has a few beers in him he loosens up considerably. Reddened cheeks with matching dimples get flashed at everyone as Sam decides to hop in on the pool game.
Dean doesn't want to crowd Sam's space because while Sam can be a happy drunk, he is also a pretty friggin’ spiteful drunk when he wants to be. Dean can recall many nights when he’s said maybe one thing wrong and Sam will tease him to full hardness, his tongue licking around his head as he fondles his balls making Dean crazy. Then just as quickly as the foreplay starts Sam will feign sleep; leaving Dean hanging.
So not cool, the little bitch. Dean doesn't want to feel that tonight, thank you very much. So while he doesn't like Sam conversing and being friendly with so many strangers, the alternative if he follows Sam around all night will be much much worse for him.
Polishing off his third beer of the night, Dean grimaces when he feels how full his bladder is. Dean's eyes move right to where Sam is talking to a girl near the pool tables. Dean sighs and decides it is safe to take a quick leak.
Washing his hands in the small sink, Dean simply shakes them off as he pushes open the old swinging door, nearly whacking a girl in the head who was sleepily leaning against it. Muttering a gruff sorry to the girl, Dean immediately scans the area he last saw Sam and sees red.
Sam's there alright, but not with the girl he was talking too earlier.
No Sam's playing pool with the same guy that was hungrily staring at Sam's ass earlier, bent over the pool table as the guy holds Sam's stick, helping him sink a ball.
Sam's eyes blink dazedly as he tries to focus on the balls ahead of him, but he keeps getting cross eyed.
Steam almost rises from Dean's head as his hands clench into fists. It's one thing to stare and touch what's fucking his, Sam's hot as fuck he admits this. It's a whole other thing to take advantage of his inebriated little brother, who doesn't even look like he can tell the difference between blue and purple right now.
“Hey!” Dean shouts angrily storming over to where the guy is staring at him with a mix of smugness and fear.
The bar is silent as they watch in anticipation of a fight.
“Get your fucking hands off him!” Ripping the guy’s hands off Sam, he hauls the kid up as he threatens to teeter.
“Dean?” Sam blinks slowly, staring from Dean to the guy in front of his body.
“Shut up Sam.” Dean warns quietly, eyes never leaving the douche in front of him, hands clenching and unclenching itching to punch the smug look off his face.
“Hey dude just showing the kid the ropes. What are you his baby sitter?” The guy sneers, brown eyes glinting in obvious disgust.
Dean's eyes blaze, his grip on Sam's bicep tightening making the kid wince. “I'm his br-boyfriend you fucking pervert. Keeps your hands off what's mine!” He almost slips up and says brother but he figures a small town in conservative Texas won't appreciate them committing incest.
Not that Dean actually gives a fuck.
“Better keep your eyes on your boyfriend then. The slut was eyeing me all night long.” The guy smirks, his eyes jovial as the rest of the patrons hold their bated breaths, almost itching for there to be a fight.
Dean's hand clenches, preparing to just step away and take his brother home to sleep off his funk. Sam still isn't quite all there, staring at him in disinterest as he tries not to topple over.
Dean ignores him and turns around, gently dragging Sam with him.
“Can't even keep his cock slut boyfriend in line. What a fucking pussy.”
Dean tenses. Hearing the whispered words he growls and lets go of Sam, silently hoping the kid stays on his feet.
It happened in the blink of the eye. The guy obviously thinking he won the verbal duel as he smiles wide at the other patrons staring at him with looks ranging from amusement to disgust.
The guy never sees it coming.
Dean rears his right hand back, putting the force of his whole body and his anger into the punch. Hitting the guy square in the jaw, Dean hears a resounding crack and gasps as he feels one of his fingers dislocate.
The guy falls down like a log, crying out as he cradles his broken jaw.
Dean steps over the guy, breathing hard. His shadow completely covering the guy’s whimpering form. “Don't fucking talk about my brother like that.” It’s too late. It is already out before Dean can stop it.
He stares at the rest of the patrons, daring them to say anything about his slip up. They all get the message and scurry back to playing pool and idly drinking beer. Obviously afraid they will turn out like the man on the floor, or worse.
“Dean.” Dean whirls around and sighs at seeing Sam behind him. The kid still looks out of it, obviously trying to understand why Dean just decked a guy.
His right pinky finger throbs, reminding him he will have to pop it back in the joint when they get to the motel room. “Let's go home Sammy.” Dean says quietly, palming the back of Sam's neck and gently guiding him out the bar.
It’s a warm night in Texas; the warm air hitting them both making them shiver at the quick change in temperature. Seeing other people hanging outside, Dean pulls Sam closer to him and briskly walks towards where the Impala is parked.
Dean sighs, opening the passenger door intending to just shove Sam in. “What Sammy?”
Dean does a double take and almost laughs. “Jesus Christ Sam. You pick the oddest times.”
“Deeeeaaan.” Sam whines, nuzzling against Dean's chest, hands wandering over his brother's body as they grope at Dean's stirring cock in his jeans.
“Jesus!” Dean moans, eyes scanning the parking lot and cursing at how many people are still outside. “Wait Sammy-fuck!” Dean bites off a curse as Sam forcefully squeezes him.
“I want you Dean. Please?” Sam flashes him dazed pupils. He’s staring at Dean with a mixture of lust and drunkenness, making his cheeks stand out bright red.
Dean's pinky throbs again, reminding Dean of the too close call Sam just had with possibly getting raped by that creep. While he wants to reprimand Sam for getting so shit faced he knows it is his fault for not making Sam stop ahead of the game.
Dean's hackles are still on edge, every instinct in his head screaming 'claim' 'mine'. Dean knows he can’t say no to an eager and horny Sam.
“Ok, Ok.” Dean placates, pulling Sam's hand off his bulge with a whimper. “Let's get to the motel first than I'll take care of you, okay?”
Sam whines like a two year old. Eyes getting more rounded and wet, mouth parting to refuse.
Dean's eyes track Sam's wet mouth as his cock strains against his jeans. Jesus it is going to be a long ride home.
Pushing Sam inside the car before he really does lose control, Dean hurries over to the other side, getting in as quickly as he can and pulls out with a squeal of the tires.
It doesn't help Dean's resolve any when Sam starts making these whiny noises, panting as his hips move up and down. Dean can see Sam's obvious bulge strain against his zipper.
Dean almost gets them killed along the way for sure, eyes roaming Sam's hot body before he hurriedly jerked them back to the road.
Seeing the motel up ahead is a huge relief to Dean. If he has to wait any longer he'll probably abandon driving all together to get to Sam.
Sam is hard to maneuver out of the car. He is horny like a rabid dog, rubbing up against Dean while his drunken legs refuse to hold his body weight. Dean does his best to carry Sam to the motel room without molesting him.
Shaking hands fumble with the lock, feeling Sam's hot breath ghost across the shell of his ear making Dean miss the lock several times.
Cursing, Dean finally gets the door open slamming it shut and locking it before he is ravaging Sam's mouth.
Sam smells like beer and it’s kind of gross but the heat between them overshadows the smell.
Sam moans into his mouth as Dean's tongue tangles with his. Tasting every inch of Sam and doing his best to erase the foreign scent of the guy’s cheap cologne. Biting Sam's lower lip, Dean soothes the slight burn with his tongue, hands pressing against Sam's face to pull him closer, wanting him deeper.
Sam pulls back with a whine, legs shaking like a new born colt. Dean understanding Sam won't be able to stand for much longer, easily manhandles him to the small bed they share.
Sam bounces against the bed; staring up at Dean with gleaming eyes.
Dean stands over him grinning to himself. “Still horny?”
“Deeeeaaan.” Sam pouts.
“What? Fucking horny for me right? Not that douche back at the bar?”
Sam swiftly shakes his head back and forth but has to stop when he gets dizzy. “No!” Sam looks like he is about to cry.
He always gets over-dramatic when drunk. Dean doesn't have the heart to mess with him too much.
“Right because you're mine.” Dean emphasizes the words by climbing on top of his brother, palming his obvious bulge and squeezing. “Isn't that right Sammy?”
“Y-yes De-Dean.” Sam stutters, eyes squeezing tight.
“Look at me!” Dean demands, squeezing harder until Sam is gasping, eyes popping open and staring at Dean.
“All yours Dean -fuck- always yours.”
Growling slightly, Dean gets to work on Sam's pants; slowly pulling the zipper down making Sam groan as his hips begin to move. Dean quickly stills his hips with one word. “Stay.”
Sam obeys though he whines and thumps his head on the pillow underneath him.
Pulling down Sam's pants, Dean growls even more at realizing Sam's shoes are still on. Making quick work of them and his pants, Dean finally pulls off Sam's boxers until he is naked from the waist down. Beautiful cock standing to attention, gleaming in the dim lighting.
Dean slowly wraps his fingers around his length and hisses, remembering his pinky.
“De-Dean?” Sam questions at hearing his brother’s hiss of pain. His voice wavers, cock still hard and leaking as Dean shakes out his hand.
“I'm fine Sammy.” Dean says, using his left hand, wrapping it around Sam's cock and forcefully pumping it.
“Oh fuck ar-are you su-sure?”
Dean gives Sam a fond smile. Only Sam can still question about Dean's injury while getting a hand job.
“Yes nurse Sammy now do you want to continue this or not?”
Sam shakes his head making Dean's eyebrows rise in surprise. “I want you to fuck me, please Dean?” Sam pleads, eyes glistening with built up tension.
Dean's eyes turn predatory. “Fuck Sammy.” Palming his own bulge, Dean suddenly has to get the constricting pants off and now.
Sam isn't much help in that aspect, too far gone and lost in his drunken, lust ridden daze.
Once Dean disrobes himself, he takes his own cock in hand and gives it two hard pumps. Moaning, he locks eyes with Sam who has hold of his own dick, getting off on the show Dean is providing. But Dean knows what he wants instead, can see it in the way Sam quivers, how his hand shakes as he desperately tries to get himself off.
Dean is going to give it to him. Wipe all traces of the guy at the bar off his brother.
Sam is still loose from this morning, but Dean isn't going to take any chances. Forgoing his own pleasure, Dean scrounges around in his duffel, hurrying at hearing the erotic gasps and moans from Sam. Finally producing some lube Dean grins, pulling back up.
Sam is on the bed, two fingers inside himself all the way down to knuckle. Making obscene noises as he finger fucks himself.
“Shit Sammy, already starting without me.” Dean pants, flicking the cap on the lube. Dean bats Sam's hand away, moaning as he watches Sam's fingers slowly slide out.
“Fuck Sammy gonna fuck you good, wipe all traces of that dick off you. Don't like him touching you.” Dean spreads lube over his cock liberally and drizzles some down Sam's crack making him yelp.
“Fill me Dean, please?”
Dean doesn't need any more incentive.
Thrusting in, Sam gasps, hips jerking off the bed, tugging on Dean's encased cock making him moan in pleasure.
“Fuck Dean yes.” Sam's eyes lock onto Dean as he starts moving, meeting each thrust with an eager push back, nails digging into the bed as he desperately tries to contain himself.
“Good Sammy so good.” Dean groans thrusting in and out in a steady pace, relishing the tight heat encasing his cock so perfectly.
Dean grasps onto Sam's own erection with his left hand, slowly pulling and twisting his hand in time with each thrust.
Sam moans wildly, he isn't going to last long; he never does when he’s in these kind of moods. Dean has to make sure he gets some things clear though.
“Mine Sammy always mine.” Dean growls pushing in deep and resting there even though it kills him.
“Fuck! Dean move please. Dean!” Sam yells, head thrashing back and forth as he tries to pull back and push his brother further in.
“Say it!” Dean demands. “You're mine.”
“Yes! Dean all yours, always yours, forever.” Sam babbles out incoherently.
Dean grins. “Thought so.” One last push and twist of his hand and Sam is coming with a shout, milky white come splattering out onto Dean's hand and Sam's stomach. He milks Sam through the aftershocks as he nears his own climax.
Feeling it build within him as his balls tighten, Dean hurries his pace until he is coming as well, filling Sam's hole before he pulls out.
Sighing, Dean drops exhausted next to his dazed little brother. Reaching blindly for a t-shirt, he pulls his off the floor and gets to work wiping himself and Sam off knowing his brother will soon pass out.
“You're mine Sammy.” Dean reminds him again, spooning behind him, kissing at his neck until he is sure he'll leave a mark.
“Yours.” Sam simply states, dragging Dean's arm around his waist.
Dean nuzzles at his neck, pleased to note the man’s scent is gone to be replaced with his own, familiar gun oil and after shave.
Dean hisses again when Sam tightens his hold on his injured finger. But Sam is already too gone to notice.
The pain reminds him, though, of that douche. It also reminds him that Sam is all his, and that no one else will ever get to have Sammy the way Dean did.
With one last kiss to Sam's neck, Dean settles down. “Mine.”