Title: While the Cat's Away
Rating: PG/Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean and John
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just like playin' with the boys.
Summary: "Dad's not due home for another day or so, what's a beer gonna do?" Parental spanking of a minor.
Dean was watching TV when Sam came in, feet on the battered coffee table, beer in his hand.
"Hey, Dean. Hitting the old man's stash, not so smart big brother."
Dean grinned. "My stash. I got the ID and everything. Dad's not due home for another day or so, what's a beer gonna do?"
Sam snorted but agreed and it was perfect really 'cause he needed Dean on his side.
Sam dropped his books on the table and sat down next to Dean. "So Dean gotta favor to ask. "
Dean watched the TV, didn't even turn to Sam, which was fine for Sam as well. "Ask away, Sammy."
"I wanna go to a party tonight. Are your okay with that? Will you give me a ride?" Sam made the questions as innocuous as possible. He had asked for permission, sort of and that was smart. Dean had a beer under his belt and that was smart too. Dad wasn't here to veto. But Dean knew and Sam knew too that Dad wouldn't let him go so really, it was a kind of shitty thing to do to his brother.
Dean was suddenly in big brother mode. "When, where and who?"
"Justin's house, his brother is having the party, Justin just wants a few of his friends. Eight o'clock."
"Is there gonna be drinking'? Drugs? Parents?"
Sam thought for a minute. "Probably, probably not and no."
Dean seemed to reflect on it, mull it around. "Okay, I have a date anyway. So here's the rules. No dinking. As far as drugs? You take anything that even looks like aspirin; I will kick your ass into next week. I want you outside of Justin's house at 11 and waiting for me to pick you up. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" Sam saluted smartly and headed off to his room. He could hear Dean grumbling smart-ass remarks even as he made his way down the hall.
Dean dropped him off at eight. "Remember, Sam. Eleven okay?"
"Got it."
Sam jumped out of the Impala and then figured that might be a bit too enthusiastic so he slowed down to a saunter.
Justin's house was big. Really big. Nice neighborhood. Big front lawn. Justin met him at the front door with a grin and a pat on the back.
"Sam, glad you could make it."
Justin had a red plastic cup with beer in it and he gestured to Sam. "Put your name on a cup, the keg is in the kitchen."
"Not really gonna drink, Justin."
"Me neither, but put your name on it anyway. Grab a half a cup of beer and walk around with it in your hand. No one is gonna notice if you get more but at least it will look like you are drinkin' like the older guys."
Sam grinned. Smart move on Justin's part. He sharpied "Sam" on the cup and then went to the keg and drew a half a cup of beer.
"Get outa the way twerp." That was Jeffrey, Justin's older brother. The older boy jostled Sam away from the keg. Sam dutifully moved off and went to find Justin. Justin was situated in the basement with three girls from Sam's class. They all had the sharpie names on the cups as well. Which was pretty cool because Sam was still kind of new to the school.
"So" Sam craned his neck to read the cup "Monica…your in my chem class right?" Smooth line, Sammy.
"Yeah, you are the new boy huh?" She took a sip of her beer and batted pretty blue eyes at Sam. Sam gulped, honest to God, gulped. She was pretty and smart. "I didn't realize you were so cute." Monica purred and moved a step closer to Sam and Sam just naturally stepped in closer to her. Then there was the kiss. Sam's tongue darted in her mouth. She tasted of beer and peach lip-gloss. A strange taste sensation.
Sam pulled her down on the couch and she let him. Suddenly, Justin was just a memory, it was he and Monica. Sam reached for his beer he took a swig and then offered to get some more for Monica. She smiled. "Sure, thanks, Sam."
Sam trotted off to refill Monica's beer and add a little to his. Well, maybe more than a little. He did not wanna look like a geek in front of Monica that was for sure. And he had plenty of time before 11. Dean had said no drinking but Dean wasn't an idiot. Lord knew Dean was drinking when he was fourteen and there was a girl involved, Dean would understand that. Besides, he could wiggle his way out of it if he had too.
Sam had never cared all that much for beer but Monica sure liked it and by the time the party was in full swing, Monica was comfortably sloshed and Sam was buzzed. Monica seemed to enjoy Sam's attentions and was happily straddled on his lap making out. Sam had his hands down her shirt and she was grinding on his hips like there was no tomorrow.
Sam had no intention of doing anymore than kissing but Monica just seemed so damn excited to have him around, well he couldn't let her down. And no matter how much he wanted to try and keep his hands to himself, by the time he was on his sixth cup of beer, it was a loosing battle.
He was really glad he had put his name on the damn cup because he kept loosing the damn thing.
He pulled his hand out from under her blouse and took another swig of beer. Monica was suddenly softly snoring on his shoulder, arms curled under herself. Sam sighed. Well, it could be worse, having a girl cuddled on his lap wasn't all that bad. So he wrapped his arms around her and shifted her weight off of his crotch. It was then that he noticed it was after eleven, almost eleven thirty.
"Shit." Sam nuzzled the girl and then rolled her off onto the couch, she snuffled contentedly and continued to sleep. Well, at least she looked comfortable. Sam stood, grabbed his cup and started to make his way up the stairs. He met Dean on his way down.
"Sammy."
"Dean"
Dean looked pointedly at his watch and then gestured up the stairs. Sam offered a lopsided grin and followed his brother up the stairs into the kitchen. Then realized he still had the cup in his hand. He dropped it in the trash but knew that Dean understood it wasn't Sam's attempt to help clean up the party.
There was no doubt that Sam had been drinking.
They stepped outside and Sam found that navigating the outside steps was a little trickier going home than they were coming into the party. Dean grabbed his arm as he stumbled down the last two.
"Jesus, Sam. How much did you drink?" Sam smiled, thumb and forefinger inched together.
"Notmuch."
"Damn it, Sam."
"Come on, Dean. One little party. Just a little too much to drink, hell you were drinkin' tonight too." Then with sudden clarity he remembered Dean was gonna be at the party at eleven. "Hey, you were a half hour late weren't you – so this last half hour of drinkin' shouldn't count anyway."
Dean cocked his head at his brother. "What kind of damn excuse is that?" He shoved Sam in the Impala and walked around to the driver side. Key in the ignition he turned to his brother, "You hurl in this car and I swear you are gonna lick it up."
Sam arched his brows. "Now that's just plain gross." But Sam snickered. At least he was a happy drunk,
The drive was short but Sam was nodding off until he heard Dean. "Fuck, Dad's home."
Sam jerked his head up at that one. One look at the black truck in the driveway and he started to hyperventilate. No amount of alcohol could dull the panic he felt. "Keep drivin' Dean. There's a bus station not too far from here. Drop me off there. "
"What? No." But Dean didn't look too happy about that truck either.
"Look, just follow my lead and head on up to bed."
"Follow your lead? Follow your lead? How the fuck can I follow your lead when I can barely walk up the fuckin' steps?" Sam knew he sounded like he was freaking out but he kinda was.
"Dude. Calm down. We'll just tell him we were at the movies and that you're goin' to bed. You're gonna owe me big time."
"Bed? Maybe he's in bed? Do ya think he's in bed?"
Dean groaned. Sam didn't care.
Dean pulled in behind the pick-up. Sam took a deep breath and opened his door. Dean waited for him, which was a good thing 'cause he used his big brother as a guide to make it up the stairs.
Dean went to open the front door but found it opened for him instead.
"Dad. We weren't expecting you until tomorrow." Sam could hear the calmness in Dean's voice. God he was good.
"I can see that. Looks like you two are getting in a little late"
"Yes, sir. Late movie." Dean had stopped to talk to his father and gently pushed Sam toward their bedroom. "Sammy here's fallin' asleep right kiddo?"
Sam nodded and kept on going, past his father and to his bedroom door. Hand to handle he stopped when he heard his father's voice.
"Hold it right there, Sam." Sam stilled. Shit.
Dean backed toward the front door. "You too…movie critic."
Dean stopped in mid step.
"Justin's folks just called. They wanted to make sure you got home safely. Something about a big party they had no idea about."
Sam dropped his head. He was so dead.
"Okay you two, front and center."
Sam turned to face his father, Dean walked back toward Sam.
Neither boy was quite willing to look Dad in the face, but Sam figured this was all his fault really so he figured he should be the one to spill.
"It's my fault, Dad. I went to the party. I was drinking some beer. Dean didn't know about the beer. In fact, he told me not to drink. So really, it's all my fault."
"Oh, so Dean knew you went to the party. Knew there was no parents there Knew there was alcohol on the premises but still he let you go."
Sam leaned a bit onto Dean. This was just too hard for him to figure out. He thought he was confessing and that would draw the fire off of Dean, but somehow Dean was gonna get in trouble now.
"Sam, don't give me anymore help. You're killin' me here." Dean didn't bother being too quiet about the statement; it was obvious he was in hot water too.
Dad glared at Dean, brows furrowed and his voice gravel rough. "Dean, I depend on you to follow the rules when I am gone. I depend on you to be responsible. Sometimes it is a lot for you to handle, I got that, but this was a pretty dumb judgment call on your part. Then you try and cover for your brother? Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out?"
Dean shook his head. "No, sir. I knew you would figure it out, I was just hoping you would be less mad tomorrow. You know, cut the kid a break."
"Well, you just earned yourself two weeks grounding. Starting tomorrow."
"Dad, I'm eighteen. How can you ground somebody who is eighteen?"
"Well, I'm the dad, and I say you're grounded so it's a done deal. I can make it a month if you want. Hell, I can make it a month and tack on a five mile run every morning. What do you think about that?"
"I think two weeks is reasonable. I think I'm gonna be a model citizen for the next two weeks." There was no smart-ass in Dean's voice, he meant it. Probably because he knew Dad meant business.
"Dean, you stay out here, your brother and I are gonna have a talk in your room. In fact, it's a nice night, why don't you sit out on the porch a bit. Enjoy the night air."
Dean looked over at Sam. Sam knew he was in for it now but there was not much he could do about it.
Dean walked outside and shut the door behind him.
Then it was just Sam and Dad.
"So Sam, what are we gonna do about this? You're drunk. You disobeyed both your brother and me. Luckily, you weren't stupid enough to try to drive drunk or have someone drive you home who was drunk, otherwise we would be having a far different conversation."
"I'm sorry Dad. I just got caught up in it. I mean, I wasn't planning on drinkin'. There was this girl and well, I just wanted to fool around you know."
"Foolin' around is something other kids can do. Do you realize what would have happened if the cops had been called in? Or if someone had gotten hurt at that party? It coulda happened, Sam. And then where would we be? You in trouble and us up to our necks in CPS. Yeah, for other kids it is just a wild night out but for us? For what we do? It could have been really bad. We've talked about this, Sam. You know it."
"I know. I'm sorry." Sam was sorry. But he didn't think it would matter much.
"So, let's get this over with Sam. In your room."
Sam took a halting step toward his room. He was still feeling the beer but it was quickly leaving his system. Dad had a way of sobering people up.
Dad followed Sam into his room and quietly shut the door behind him. "I' m not even gonna insult you with the old, this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you thing." Dad unbuckled his belt. Doubled it in half and beckoned Sam to his side. "But, I'm feeling generous tonight Sam. Nothin' bad really happened and you managed to make it home safely. You can keep your jeans on. But I'm telling you now, pull this again and your are getting it bare assed and that's a promise."
"Yes, sir."
Dad sat down and patted his lap. Such an innocuous gesture but it sent Sam's heart to pounding. Usually Dad's hard hand was more than enough. "You're really be wackin' me with the belt?"
"Yup. Let's go. I think a lick for every year sounds good to me. What do you think?"
"I think it won't matter what I think."
"Watch the smart ass, Sammy, this could be a lot worse."
Sam draped himself over his father's knees. Waited for the tell tale whistle of belt on ass. He didn't have much of a wait.
Sam yipped when the belt met with his denim-clad rear end. Then Dad commenced to whale away on his ass. Sam tried for quiet after the first yip, but Dad was a pro spanker and it did not take long for Sam to remember why the man was so damn good.
Sam howled at lick number six. That belt was strong and supple and Dad had a fuckin swing that would put Babe Ruth to shame.
By ten, Sam was crying and when they got to fourteen, Sam was in sob mode. Dad stopped, put a warm hand on Sam's neck, just held it there for a moment, and then dropped the belt to put his right hand over Sam's back. Sam kind of melted into the touch, something he wouldn't admit, but it felt good. Felt good to be crying and to have his father comfort him, even if Dad was the one to make him cry in the first place.
Sam stood and Dad pulled him tight into a hug. Sam burrowed into his father's shoulder, it made him feel like a little kid, but Dad never balked at hugs after ass whippins. "Watch your step, kiddo. I don't wanna have to tan your ass again. – Go get Dean, I want you two asleep in the next ten minutes, got it."
Sam snuffled a "Yes, sir." Then walked out to Dean who was sitting on the front porch.
Dean nodded in Sam's direction, "You okay, Sammy?"
Sam sniffled hard and then shrugged, "Yeah, my ass is killin' me but I'm sure not drunk anymore."
Dean grinned, teeth bright white in the dark. "Dad's butt warmings have a way of doing that."
Sam nodded in agreement, "He wants us in the rack in ten and I for one don't wanna piss him off anymore tonight."
Dean grunted, a noise that could mean a myriad of things and then stood, followed Sam into the house and then their bedroom.
"At least you aren't grounded for two weeks." Dean complained. Sam noticed he waited until he was safely behind their bedroom door, "I mean how can I get out of this gracefully. I have a date tomorrow night, another on Sunday. I'm meeting Steph for breakfast on Tuesday. What kind of excuse can I use? My daddy grounded me? Sheesh. I would almost have rather gotten my ass beat, at least I would have been okay by tomorrow night."
"Well you know the old man. He picks the worse punishment he can for the crime. He knows an ass whippin' will work for me, knows grounding will work for you. He's sneaky like that."
Dean dropped his jeans and threw on a pair of sweats. Sam did the same. "You know for a dumb kid, you can be kind of smart. "
"That's what they tell me but after tonight, I'm not so sure."
"It's okay, Sam. Let's just chalk it up to experience. You just keep the drinkin' under wraps. " His big brother gave him a look that spoke volumes, "I'll make sure you do even if it's just for my sake."
Sam crawled into bed, rolled over, and grimaced once when his ass hit the bed. Dean was always making sure he did what he was supposed to. Sometimes it made him crazy but mostly it just felt right.
"Night, Dean."
"Yeah, Dickhead. Hopefully, you learned your lesson on this one."
"Yeah, it turns out I can't control myself around pretty girls. I kind of lost my shit tonight."
"Sammy, that ain't nothin' new. That's just being a boy. Get used to it."
Sam huffed. Unfortunately, he had a feeling his brother was right.
end
