Title: Spin the Bottle [1/2]
Author: alakewood
Warnings: Underage Wincest (Sam's 15, Dean's 19).
Rating: R
Word Count: ~1700
Summary: Dean's been off on a hunt with John while Sam's been staying with Bobby and he comes back a month later, finding Sam in the midst of a game of spin the bottle. What happens when Sam spins the bottle and it lands on his brother?
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.
oxoxo
The bottle spins again in the dust on the floor, liquor sloshing inside as it slows, points at Sam. He laughs and shakes his head, climbing to his knees and leaning across the circle. "If I didn't know any better, Nick, I'd think you were rigging the game."
Nick blushes but leans towards Sam anyway, slotting their mouths together, lips on lips and nothing more, then they both sit back down. "I wouldn't even know how," he admits.
"I wish you did," Alyssa, the girl to Sam's left (and Nick's girlfriend), says. "It's super hot."
Sam takes a swig from the bottle – just a few drinks left – and recaps it tightly before returning it to the dusty floor. A flick of his wrist sends the bottle spinning again. It goes 'round and 'round, everyone watching with rapt attention as it decelerates and finally stops, cap pointing right between Alex and Kristy, directly at the door. The group of seven teenagers exchange looks before a short noise – the clearing of a throat – draws their attention to the doorway.
Sam's eyes widen in surprise. "Dean." Can't help the smile that's so wide it actually hurts his cheeks. "Come sit, play. We're almost done; bottle's nearly empty."
Dean walks further into the old shed, takes in the sight, the game, his red-mouthed little brother sitting Indian-style in front of him. "We gotta get back to the house. D-"
"Just, let's finish the game," Sam interrupts, cutting Dean off before he can say 'Dad' and make what Sam's about to do seem very, very wrong instead of very, very hot to all of his new friends.
"Whatever." Dean rolls his eyes and approaches the circle, stands a little straighter with all the attention he's getting. Alex and Kristy move apart and the whole circle shifts to give Dean room to sit. He drops to his knees and looks at the bottle that's pointing at him. "Who's the lucky girl?"
There's a sudden burst of giggles and laughter around the circle as Sam gets to his knees. "We play with different rules," Sam says in explanation, left hand braced in the dust near the bottle. "It was my spin. Your lucky day."
"Sam." Dean's wide-eyed gaze surveys the group of teens, finding nothing but fascinated anticipation on their faces, like they don't know- And Dean realizes they have no idea that he and Sam are brothers.
"What? Afraid you're gonna like it?" A teasing challenge that Sam knows his brother can't back down from, not in front of all these other kids.
"Just didn't want you to embarrass yourself in front of all your friends when you moan like girl." He meets Sam halfway, right hand reaching up into Sam's hair and holding tight, crushing their mouths together. He's caught by surprise when he feels Sam's tongue graze the seam of his lips and he opens to his little brother, breathes through his nose and expects Sam to assault him. But Sam abruptly pulls away, smirk of satisfaction curling the corner of his mouth upward, and Dean realizes the whimper he'd heard at the loss of contact had come from him. Again, everyone's staring, so Dean rocks back to sit on his heels. "Who's next?"
"Drink, then it's your turn. When the bottle's empty, the game's done," Sam tells him.
Dean nods, reaches for the bottle, and twists off the lid. There's not a whole lot left – enough for a couple more turns, maybe – but he's greedy, can still taste Sam on his lips. Two over-eager swallows and the bottle is empty. Dean licks his lips, cheap rum and Sam, and recaps the bottle. He returns it to the little pit it's created in the dust and dirt on the floor in the center of the circle, tests its weight and how fast it spins with a twist of his wrist without releasing it from his fingers. He eyes Sam and lets her fly. It's dead silent in the shed, every single person holding their breath and waiting. The bottle spins and spins and spins and does just what every one of them expects – or hopes, in Sam's case. It slows and stops, and it's pointing right at the youngest Winchester. "Game over, kids," Dean says, eyes not leaving Sam's pale, flush-cheeked face.
"But we gotta- gotta make sure you do it," Alyssa half-whines. "We gotta see you kiss him. It's like one of the rules."
Dean looks at the girl, recognizes the hungry lust in her eyes that's mirrored on the faces of all the other kids – tenfold on Sam's. These kids are too young to have voyeuristic kinks, but here they are, and there's Sam, waiting. What the hell, Dean thinks, and leans across the circle again.
Sam hastily crawls to his knees, too far gone – too drunk on that brief, too-chaste kiss – to play it cool, to feign apathy. His mouth is already open for Dean's when they meet over the empty bottle. Brief clash of tongues and teeth and Dean's pulling away.
"Okay, I mean it," he says, sounding just a little wrecked. "Game's over. Show's over. Time for you all to go."
"Yeah," Sam agrees, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and says "I'll see you guys later," even though he knows he probably won't.
Alyssa and Kristy share a look, both girls climbing to their feet. "That was so hot," Alyssa exclaims in a whisper as they start for the door. The other kids follow, Nick the last one out, gaze lingering on Sam as he stands in the doorway a moment before disappearing.
"How'd you manage to find so many freaks for friends?" Dean asks, still on his knees in the dirt, inches from Sam.
Sam looks up at Dean, studies his brother's face, the green of his eyes. "They all weren't always like that. It started with me, Nick, and Alyssa, and kinda snowballed from there. They're together – Nick and Alyssa. It was the first week I was here and we all hit it off pretty good so she invited me over to her house and we were hanging out around a fire-pit in her backyard, drinking-"
"Which you shouldn't be doing, Sam."
"Anyway, Alyssa – completely out of nowhere – says it would be hot if we kissed. Me and Nick. And I was like, whatever, and kissed him. I told her she had to kiss a girl. That was Kristy. Then it was her boyfriend, Alex. And the group got bigger. The games make it easier to experiment, you know?"
"You're fifteen, Sam. You don't need to be experimenting."
"But it's fun, Dean. Really, really fun. I mean, isn't that what we're doing?" He scoots closer on his knees until they're flush from thigh to chest, and pulls Dean's head down so he can claim his mouth. He rolls his hips up into Dean's and moans at the friction.
"Fuck, Sam," Dean grits out, hands moving to cup Sam's ass, keeping their bodies close.
"Sammy," Sam says. "Call me 'Sammy.'"
Dean's breath hitches and he kisses Sam bruisingly hard. "Sammy. Sammy."
"Dean." Sam gives himself over to the kiss, lets his hands roam whatever part of Dean he can reach. Palm flat against Dean's stomach, elbow bent at an awkward angle, his hand slips lower, tips of his fingers curling under the hem of Dean's t-shirt and dip beneath the waistband of his jeans.
"Jesus fuck, Sam," Dean gasps, grabbing hold of his brother's wrists. "Not here."
"Where? When?"
"Tonight. When Dad and Bobby go to the Roadhouse."
"He'll make us go-"
"No, I'll make sure of it, Sammy."
"You better." He bites at Dean's throat, a sharp nip over Dean's pulse-point and he feels the vein jump under his tongue. "Can't believe you were gone for a month. Felt like forever."
"You tellin' me you missed me, Sammy?"
"Yeah, Dean, missed you. Helped me realize how much I wanted this – you – though. I was laying in bed, and you weren't there so I could- you know."
"No, Sammy, I don't." He grins, traces his mouth along Sam's smooth jaw and up to his ear.
"Liar." Sam's wrists are still bound in Dean's hands, so he tilts his head further in invitation instead of taking Dean's head in his own hands and directing his mouth where he wants it. "So, it was like the third night I was here and I was- I was trying to think up a good fantasy. I was...just, kinda loose grip, getting hard. Then, suddenly I was thinking about you and my hand's on my dick and it was like, oh. And I couldn't stop. Had this picture of you in my head, thought about you being in that bed next to mine and hearing the sounds I was making, that you were getting hard, too. Then you crawled into my bed with me, put your hands on me. You jacked me off and-" Sam grinds the bulge in his jeans against Dean's hard thigh. "Your hand on me, it was so good. I don't think I've ever come so hard in my life."
"Shit, Sammy." He covers Sam's mouth with his own, thrusts his tongue inside that sweet, rum-flavored damp heat to taste Sam's teeth and tongue. "I'll show you how good it can be. I'll show you." He releases Sam's wrists, smooths down Sam's rucked-up tee and lets his hands linger on his little brother's slim hips. "We really should get inside though. Before Dad comes looking for us."
"Yeah," Sam says, teeth scraping over his bottom lip. "That would be really bad."
Dean climbs to his feet and pulls Sam up with him. "Come on."
Sam grabs Dean's arm before he can turn away and leans up on his toes to catch Dean's mouth in a deep, desperate kiss. "Tonight – you promise?"
"I promise."