Happy Wincest Wednesday!
Tell me one thing that you think has happened while Sam and Dean were drunk and/or high. One funny story, or sexual thing they accidentally admitted, or adventure they ended up going on. Just, some samdean moment that you think happened while they were under the influence.
- @schizosamwincester
When Dean was around 17 and Sam 13, Dean gets smashed with some friends at school and ditches them an hour in to go steal Sam from his classes. He tells Sam that he's gonna teach him how to drive— That it’s about time, and he knows John won’t do it anytime soon. Only problem is they don’t have the impala, it’s with John on a hunt. That won’t deter Dean, though. One of his friends never remembers to lock his car, something Dean often makes fun of him for. Turns out, it’s just his luck.
It doesn’t take him long to hotwire the car, but he still tries to teach Sam while he does it. Sam barely hears him, too distracted checking their surroundings every minute. Once Dean’s got it up and running, Sam tries pleading with Dean to just go back to the motel, that he can learn another day, but Dean doesn’t care. He offers Sam the rest of his whiskey to help the nerves, and says he’ll drive them first to show Sam the ropes.
He takes Sam to an empty parking lot a few miles away to get him comfortable behind the wheel. It starts alright, they do some laps with minimal issue. Dean then teaches him how to maneuver and park. It goes well for the first 15 minutes or so and Sam slowly gets more confident. Then Dean gets out of the car to guide him through parking better, only to get attacked by a bee. He tries swatting it away to no success, and in the process, frantically makes the same motion he had been using for “Back.” Caught off guard ans unable to see the bee, Sam forgets to switch gears before stepping on the gas.
Within the span of five seconds the bee becomes the least of Dean’s concern as he flips over the hood of his friend’s car and slams on the pavement with as much grace as a giraffe taking a bath. In Sam’s panic, he rushes out of the car to Dean's side before even putting it in park.
Dean's curled up on his side and groaning as Sam crouches next to him. His hands sporadically hover over Dean's body, afraid to touch and make something worse. After a much louder groan, Dean coughs and carelessly flips himself onto his back. His face is scratched but there doesn't appear to be any head wounds. Sam breathes a sigh of relief and starts blubbering apologies and admonishments towards his idiot brother when a loud crash interrupts him. They whip their heads up just in time to watch the remaining glass of what used to be a store's front windows, fall and shatter.
A very passionate, supremely pissed, "What the fuck?!" echoes from inside the store.
Dean's eyes go impossibly wide and he looks back to Sam, "Yeah Sammy, what the fuck?"
Sam blinks and his eyes quickly rove over Dean’s body, “Can you run?"
Dean raises an eyebrow, "Run? You just hit me with a CAR-"
"Nevermind, you're not heavy," Sam mutters and without further warning, scoops Dean off the ground and books it away from the scene of their crime, ignoring all of Dean's sputtering along the way.
Once they get to the motel, Dean is finally quiet aside from some mumbles and grunts. Sam plops him on the nearest bed and fetches their med-kit. Dean doesn't complain while Sam dabs at the dirt and brushes off the rocks stuck to his raw skin, but he doesn't make his usual jokes either.
"That was a really stupid idea, Dean. Even for you."
Dean's eyebrows almost reach his hairline, "Me? You're the one who tried to run me over AND crashed the car!"
Sam yanks at Dean’s shoes and twists his feet around, gauging their range of motion, “You're the one who made the 'go' motion! And you were just hit with a car, would you rather I take my time before checking on you the next time you're assaulted by an automobile?"
Dean laughs in Sam's face, "Yeah right, as if I have to worry about vehicular homicide from anyone other than you. Cars don't assault people on their own, Sam, unless you're in a cartoon."
"Tell that to the shopkeeper."
Dean chuckles, genuinely this time, then winces and grabs his abdomen. "Think you cracked a few ribs out there, Jeff Gordon."
Sam frowns and gets that sad puppy look in his eyes, "We don't have anything to ice it."
"Ah that's alright, just get me a beer. That oughta do it."
Sam shakes his head but goes and grabs a beer from the mini-fridge. He also fishes for painkillers in their duffel bags and returns to Dean with two pills and the beer.
Dean nods his thanks and quickly takes the medicine, easily finishing off half his beer to wash it down.
Sam sighs, "As far as I could tell you didn't break anything, but you're all scraped up from the fall and I couldn't get all the dirt out with just a rag. You need a shower."
Dean waves his hand in Sam’s direction, "You may not have broken anything Sammy, but my ankle's definitely sprained. I can feel it. I ain't standing in the shower right now just for a few cuts.”
Sam sighs again, this time more annoyed than concerned, "Dude, there's a bathtub."
Dean's already alcohol flushed cheeks redden deeper, "I'm fine."
Sam rolls his eyes, "Alright then. We're doing this the hard way."
"Wh-" Dean's protest is cut short as Sam once again heaves the bruised bundle of limbs that make up his brother back into his arms.
Ten minutes later and Dean is comfortably situated in the center of the bathtub while Sam gently scrubs the grime off his tender skin. Dean gave up on arguing when Sam dunked him in the water.
By the time Sam lathers Dean's hair, his brother is nothing more than goo in his hands. Sam massasges the suds into Dean's scalp and after only a minute he's moaning inappropriately with each of Sam's finger movements. He's too out of it to realize what he’s doing, drunk and exhausted as he is, and Sam isn't gonna be the one to tell him, so he stays silent and soaks up every sound that falls from Dean's wet lips. Commits them to memory and imagines all the other scenarios in which Dean might make the same sounds.
After Sam gets some control over himself, he rinses the older boy and cautiously guides him out of the bath and back to bed. Sam sits him down like he did when they first got to the motel and searches for some clean clothes. Dean's duffel has more weapons than clothes, Sam soon realizes, so he gathers his biggest shirt and pants from his own bag. Sam turns to help Dean dress and finds his brother passed out completely. He's angled the wrong way across the bed and a towel flap just barely covers his dick, his thighs and chest exposed and glistening in the dim light.
Sam goes tomato red and promptly decides that taking care of his little problem is more important than repositioning his sleeping brother, and runs to the bathroom.
