Title: Drunk And Disorderly
Author: Capricorn1986
Characters: John, Dean (18) Sam (14)
Summary: Dean drags Sam with him to a party. He gets drunk and drives home. Without Sam.
Warning: Contains spanking of a teenager (belt)
Drunk And Disorderly
"Can we go home now?"
Fourteen-year-old Sam Winchester walks over to the sofa where his older brother Dean is deep in conversation with a big-busted Asian girl. Their mouths do a lot of moving, not so much talking.
Dean breaks the kiss and turns to his little brother. "Sammy, please." He licks his lips, tasting the traces of the sweet lipstick the girl left on his mouth. "Could you give me five more minutes here? I`m kinda busy right now."
Sam crosses his arms, irritated. "Yeah, busy ignoring me. We`ve been here for hours, Dean! You said you only wanted to stop by for a little while."
Dean shrugs while casually moving his hand up and down the thigh of the girl sitting next to him. She giggles and kisses his neck.
"The loud music is hurting my ears," Sam complains. "I wanna go home. This is no fun."
"It`s fun for me," Dean grins. He reaches over to the table, grabs a bottle of beer and takes a deep swig. He offers the bottle to the girl. She greedily gulps down four sips, then burps. The girl blushes and giggles, embarrassed, but Dean just laughs. Sam huffs.
"You also said you weren`t gonna drink, Dean. How much beer have you had, anyway?"
The eighteen-year-old simply smiles and rolls his eyes. "Geez, lighten up, Sammy. What`s a party without a little alcohol?"
His remark makes the Asian girl next to him giggle explosively, but Sam is not amused.
"I would really have preferred it if you let me stay at the apartment instead of dragging me here."
"I couldn`t do that, and you know it, Sammy," Dean replies.
"You could`ve gotten him a babysitter," the Asian girl remarks.
"You`re looking at him, darling," Dean says with a crooked grin.
The girl smiles drunkenly. "I could look at you all night," she mumbles.
"I don`t mind you touching either," Dean informs her, earning another giggle from the girl.
"Ew," Sam says.
"Childish, much?" Dean says irritably to Sam. He`s getting sick of his young brother whine and complain when all Dean wants is to have a good time.
"Drunk, much?" Sam shoots back, raising his eyebrows. "Can we go? Please?"
"Settle down and have a drink, Sammyboy!" Dean suggests.
Sam wrinkles his nose. "Beer smells and tastes disgusting and make people act like idiots. I`ll pass. Thanks."
"Your loss," Dean shrugs as he takes another drink from his bottle.
Sam reaches out and tugs at Dean`s arm, making him spill beer all over himself.
"Watch it!" the older boy barks angrily.
Sam has no intention of apologizing. "We`re leaving."
They go outside and walk towards the car. The smoke of their breath billow from their mouths, and they feel the soft snow under their shoes. The moon shines overhead, making the snow glow and sparkle.
Dean produces the keys to the Impala from his pocket. Sam eyes him worriedly, knowing his brother has consumed more than a little alcohol.
"You`re in no condition to drive, Dean. Let`s get someone else to drive us, and we`ll come back for the car tomorrow."
"I`m not leaving my baby here all night," Dean objects, gently stroking the hood of the Impala. Sam makes a noise of exasperation.
"It`s not your car, Dean. No matter how much you want it to be."
"Whatever. Get in, Sammy."
"I`m not getting in that car, and neither are you. You`ll trash the car and kill both of us! Then Dad will kill you again when we get home."
"Silly Sammy," Dean chuckles. "Dad`s not home yet. He won`t come home until tomorrow. Are you coming or not?"
Sam hurries over to Dean and tries to stop him before he can enter the Impala. The younger boy tries to wriggle the car keys out of his brother`s hand, but Dean is strong and he resists. Angry at Sam for spoiling his fun, Dean pushes him in the chest so he falls backwards.
The fourteen-year-old looks up at his brother with hurt in his eyes.
"This ride is for party people only," Dean declares. "You can use your feet."
"I`m not walking home, it`s freezing, and it`s the middle of the night!" Sam shouts.
"I don`t care, dude. You`re a damn party pooper. Take care of yourself for once. I`m sick of being your babysitter."
Sam tries to tell himself Dean doesn`t mean it. "I don`t need you anyway," he says, trying to sound brave and confident.
Dean doesn`t answer. He gets in the car, turns on the engine and takes off, tires screeching.
Sam watches him go, tears forming in his eyes.
It`s a slow ride home for Dean. He has to make several stops on the way in order to puke and take a piss. It starts to snow heavily, and the reduced sight makes Dean slow the Impala down. He has retained some sense despite his drunkenness.
Sam does not have to walk the whole way home. He gets picked up by some kids from the party, someone with a designated driver. When they reach their destination, Sam is about half-way. He thanks the kids politely for the ride, then steps out onto the road, shivering. Wet, heavy snowflakes are landing in his hair. With a deep sigh, he starts walking, feeling cold despite the anger and worry burning in his gut.
When he finally reaches the house, Sam is both surprised and very pleased to find his father`s truck standing outside, and the Impala still missing. He steps up to the front door, shaking off the thick layer of snow that has settled all over him. He feels scared and worried for Dean, knowing that his brother should have gotten back before him.
Sam steps inside the house, and is immediately greeted by John who comes running over to him and crushing him in a tight embrace.
"Hi, Dad," Sam mumbles, his face crushed against the hunter`s leather jacket. "Didn`t think you`d be back until tomorrow."
"I just got back," John replies, pulling Sam away from him. He looks into his youngest sons eyes, his gaze dark and serious. "Now, where the hell have you been?" He suddenly realizes he can`t hear the Impala, or see his eldest. "And where`s Dean and the car?"
Sam sighs. He doesn`t like tattling on his brother like this, but he has no choice. Their father had to know what had been going on tonight. Sam gestures towards the sofa.
"It`s a long story, Dad. You better sit down."
Just minutes after Sam has told John everything and gone to bed, Dean returns. He has managed to keep both himself and the Impala in once piece. Considering his condition and the weather, it`s quite the miracle.
John feels a mixed rush of emotions at seeing his eldest son come in the door. He`s furious, but also immensely relieved.
Dean is surprised to see his father, as he wasn`t expecting him to return from the hunt a day early.
"Dad! Uh… Hi." The teenager grins sheepishly.
"What the hell, Dean?" John throws up his hands. "I come home to find both my sons missing. Then one son comes home, shivering, covered in snow, and the other comes home drunk!"
"Don`t give me the 'underage drinking' crap. I`m eighteen, I`m legally allowed to drink."
"And that makes it OK to drive under the influence of alcohol, not to mention leaving your little brother alone, in the middle of the night, in the dead of winter!"
Dean looks at his father. John looks at his son. Both men`s eyes are bloodshot, but for different reasons.
"Is that a rhetorical question?"
John snorts, dragging a hand over his face. "Not to mention that you dragged Sammy with you to this party."
"Whose fault is that?" Dean snaps. "I was just following orders, sir. You`re the one who keeps telling me to take care of Sam and never leave him alone. Well, I didn`t. Press the vein in your forehead back into your skull and take a chill pill."
John is now so angry and provoked he has to take a few steps away from his son, lest he do something he`ll regret. He points a trembling finger towards the bedroom.
"You need to sleep this off. I`ll deal with you in the morning. Now go to bed."
The next morning, John finds his eldest son in the bathroom, slumped down on the floor next to the toilet. He can see the boy has vomited.
Dean leans his head against the wall, groaning. He has the mother of all hangovers.
"What do you remember?" John asks.
Dean looks at him. "Not much, actually."
Perhaps just as well, John thinks to himself. Sam had told his father everything that happened at the party and afterwards. The hunter knew that if he were to repeat this to Dean, the boy would be wrecked with guilt and shame. The punishment of the hangover and a sore ass would be enough, John decides.
"Do you need to get anything else out?" he asks his son.
Dean, feeling terrible, but not having to vomit anymore, shakes his head slowly. If he moves it too fast, the room is spinning.
John nods. "Alright, then. Up you get."
Dean sighs. "Can`t I just sit here?"
"Can`t reach the target if you`re sitting on it, son," John states meaningfully.
His words are not lost on the teenager, who slowly and shakily gets up on his feet. He hasn`t bothered to get dressed properly, so he`s standing in front of his father in boxers and the shirt he slept in.
"Place your hands here." John indicates the bathroom sink. Dean grabs it around the edges and clutches it tightly. He blushes when he feels his father quickly pull his underwear down. His buttocks clench in apprehension when he hears John unbuckle his belt.
Fuck. And on the bare, too. This is gonna hurt like hell.
John places one hand on the teenager`s back and raises his arm.
"Ready?"
Dean gives no answer, just a curt nod.
The belt makes a whistling sound in the air before connecting with Dean`s skin, producing a sharp crack. The boy jerks, but is silent. John swings the belt again, this time landing it slightly above the mark left by the first blow. Five strokes land before Dean finally makes a noise. He shifts his legs uneasily, even makes a small kick the sixth time the belt cracks down on his ass.
The sting and burn is building quickly, and as John continues to swing the belt, Dean finds it impossible to be or stay still. He forgets about counting the blows, but takes each one as they come. John has to move closer to the boy and reach around his waist in order to keep him in place as he delivers the last portion of the punishment.
Dean is crying out and squirming violently with each strike, tears streaming down his face. When his crying has intensified to deep hard sobs and his naked rear is covered in red marks, John finally stops.
Dean breaks down, leaning heavily on the sink. He feels as if his legs can`t carry him. Suddenly John`s hands are wrapping around him, and his father is holding him close in a tight embrace, encouraging the boy to cry and just let it all go.
"I-so-sohorry!" Dean sobs loudly, almost unable to speak. He tries to give a better apology, but all that comes out are pained wails.
John rubs his back reassuringly, whispering in the boy`s ear that he is forgiven. The hunter`s heart is close to breaking and he fears this time he took the discipline too far.
"My dear, brave boy," he murmurs affectionately. "Do I ask too much of you? Do I put a too heavy weight on your shoulders?"
Dean deeply gulps some air, trying to steady himself. He pulls out of his father`s embrace so he can look the man in the eyes. The young teenager`s face is wet with tears, but neither he nor John wipes them away. New ones continue to fall.
"I deal with it," Dean finally states in a clear, steady voice.
John smiles, but there is no joy in his eyes.
THE END