john has been gone for two weeks and dean doesn't know he let himself get this drunk around sammy. fuck he dosent know how let sammy get this drunk, hes all pink cheeks and heavy eyelids and slow moving, red mouth. tempting. too tempting when deans this out of it, when he has this little control over his impulses.
his fingers twitch with the urge to pull sammy into his lap by his hair (hes growing it out and dean thinks it might just kill him) and he takes another swig from his bottle to just to do something with his hand other than shove them down his baby brothers throat.
its difficult though, when sammy is looking at dean, his own bottle stuck between his thighs, eyes wide lip trapped between his teeth, the same look he has on his face when hes doing his homework for fucks sake, so why does it feel like hes begging dean to fuck him open and wanting. fuck. this may be the stupidest thing hes ever done. but then sam stops looking so damn thoughtful and he huffs a laugh that goes straight to deans heart, makes him feel warm (that may be the alcohol) and dean doesn't think he has it in him to regret this. not when hes got sammy so lax and carefree, grinning with his dimples and his eyes bright like dean hasn't seen in too damn long.
"you look stupid," sam slurs, swinging his bottle towards dean and dean raises a brow at the proud look on sams face, as if he threw the best insult known to man.
"really sammy? stupid?" dean takes another gulp, dosent know why the look an sams face feels dangerous, but hes coming closet to dean and their thighs are pressing together as he pokes deans chest.
"you look like you just got laid, and it sucked," sam elaborates leaning forward and sounding so serious, face solemn, like that makes any fucking sense. dean cant help the laugh that tears out of him, because how drunk is he?
"now slow down little brother, dont be cursing me out here," he pauses, considers,
"drinking make you evil?" because sams been saying all sorts of things tonight, none of them particularly fitting for his dorky geek-brother. now its sams turn to laugh and he does while pressing further into dean and dean cant help the jolt of arousal at the feel of his brothers squirming body. hes going to hell. hes not sure if he cares.
because sams still laughing and deans drunk and none of this is really that funny but he's laughing too and then sams face is an inch from deans and all his laughter and mirth gets caught in his throat. sams back to serious despite how out of it he looks, slightly feverish, manic look in his eyes, breath puffing out against deans face.
"i bet, if you fucked me, you wouldn't look so stupid," dean drops his bottle, feels vaguely the liquid drenching his jeans, but hes too hot and too fucking shocked to give it much notice. he eyes sammy, feels a throb in the back of his head, gulps.
but this is everything hes been wanting after and he can't help but play along. hand brushing sams thigh, he asks
"whyd you think that sammy?" sams eyes are fixed on deans hand and dean cant help it, cant hear logic as he slides it up further. sammys getting brave too, presses his mouth to dean ear as he whispers,
"it wouldn't suck with me," dean knows it wouldn't, knows fucking into sam would be like heaven on earth, would be like ecstasy and he would be an addict. theres a million reasons dean should step back, this is his little brother, this is his little brother and that should be enough but its not, its not.
sam tastes like cheap beer and salt and a dirty fucking mouth and deans never going to get enough of this particular taste. knows he'll spend the rest of his life craving the way sammy lets little moans at as dean bites at his lips, licks into his mouth. dean cant help himself feels helpless to his hunger. hes ravenous. digs his fingers into sammys chin and presses closer, want everything, needs it.
dean dosent know how much time passes, he can feel sweat dampening his shirt, his forehead, can feel the heat from sams body, hot like a furnace from where hes straddling dean, thighs spread wide. dean cant remember the last time he was this hard, not with sam practically grinding on his lap, and baring his neck for deans teeth. dean bucks up against him and bites his ownership purple and bloody into sammys skin. sam lets out a high whine and dean feels his rhythm become more desperate, needy for friction and release.
dean gives it to him. gives him everything he can in this one, drunken night. because dean wont get another.
they dont talk about it the next morning. not even when dean sees all the bruises on sammys skin, stretching from his collarbone to his jaw, where dean had sunk his teeth in. sam still looks like a wet dream, all disorientated and fucked out.
sam dresses in front of him that morning giving him shy hopeful glances that twist deans stomach, remind him of how he sucked sammys lower lip into his mouth, as hed grabbed sams ass and grinded them together, as hed slid a finger into sams boxers, rubbed his dry hole until tears had leaked from his eyes and he was incoherent and babbling. reminds him of his baby brothers fingers around his dick jerking him slow and uncoordinated and still the best hed ever gotten.
dean realises one night was never going to be enough.
it dosent matter. its all hes got.