--
Sam felt he was going to pass out from drinking too much of that tampered punch, but Dean handed him another cup.
"Dean, I don't think I can—hic—drink anymore…" Sam said hoarsely, hiccupping again afterwards.
"Just one more, Sammy, and that's it," Dean insisted, gesturing to him with the cup.
Sam looked at him to see if he'd change his mind, but his older brother shook his head. Sam sighed.
"Drink up," Dean said, patting Sam's back.
"If I die from alcohol poisoning, you'll be the first one I'm coming after," Sam threatened, taking a swig of the punch.
"Yeah yeah." Dean waved him off, then got a huge grin on his face when "Renegade" by the Styx started playing. "You know, this is like our theme song…"
"Your theme song, not ours," Sam corrected, taking a breath from chugging half the cup of punch. He hiccupped again.
"Meh… true," Dean agreed.
"You should dance to this song…" Sam suggested with a giggle.
Dean looked at him with an irate glare. "I'm only letting that go because you're drunk."
Sam smiled like a child at him.
Dean rolled his eyes. "I might need some of that punch right now…" he muttered, but knew he was the one who had to drive back to Oklahoma City to their motel.
When he turned back to Sam, he seemed to have disappeared. "Sam?" he called, looking around.
Someone let out a "Hell yeah!" and Dean turned around to see Sam in the middle of a circle in the crowd, dancing with moves he'd never seen before.
"Oh good Lord…" Dean mumbled, smacking his forehead. He pushed through the crowd of people and grabbed Sam by the back of his tux jacket. "What the hell, dude? I mean, seriously—what the hell?" he whispered, beyond irritated.
"What? I was just dancing…" Sam said defensively, holding up his hands, the cup of punch clutched in his left.
"Yeah, with half a cup of punch in your hand," Dean snapped. "And I swear to God you've ruined that song for me for a least a year or two!"
"Well, sorry, but this was your idea," Sam argued back, poking Dean in the chest. "You kept handing me cup after cup."
Dean forced himself to not punch his brother right then and there. Instead, he took the cup gingerly from Sam's hand. "Then you ain't finishing this cup," he said, pushing past people to enter the kitchen.
"Dean…!" Sam whined as Dean dumped the rest of the punch in the sink, then tossed the cup in the trash.
Dean rested a hand on the counter, the other on his hip. "Stop acting like a child, Sam. We're working a case. I know you're drunk, but you gotta act serious about this."
"But I am…" Sam said with a pout. He pouted in silence for a minute, then said," Let's go back upstairs…"
Dean checked his watch. A quarter till ten. "Good idea. The party ends in two hours, so we should be up there when the spirit manifests." He grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him towards the stairs.
xOx
The Winchester brothers sat on the bed of the room they had been locked in the closet in, the EMF reader constantly lighting up all the way. The door was shut.
They had been sitting there for ten minutes now, but nothing was happening. The only sound in the room was the EMF reader going crazy.
"Dean, it's not going to manifest…" Sam quietly said, breaking the silence between the two.
"It will…" Dean replied.
The EMF reader quieted down suddenly. Both brothers looked down at it and saw that only the first light was lit up.
"That's weird…" Sam said, making Dean nod in agreement.
"He must've moved downstairs…" Dean said, moving to get up.
Sam grabbed his arm. "Wait, Dean…" he whispered.
Dean looked at him. "Sam, we gotta get him before someone gets hurt."
"That's the thing," Sam replied. "He doesn't want to hurt anyone—he wants to save them."
Dean sighed. "Jake and Roy asked us to get rid of this spirit. And that's what we're going to do."
Sam shook his head. "No. I have a better idea. We'll tell Jake and Roy to stop serving alcohol at their parties, and then maybe the spirit will leave everyone alone."
Dean wanted to argue, but once again his baby brother had come up with another great idea.
"Fine, you win…" he mumbled, turning off the EMF reader and putting it into his cape's inside pocket. "At least that'll save your drunk ass."
Sam smiled. "Thank you." He paused, taking his microphone set off and putting it in his pocket. "…Dean? Can I ask you for another favor?"
Dean sighed. "You're going to ask me anyway, so why the hell not?"
Sam smirked. He moved to sit on Dean's lap, facing him, and whispered seductively, "I want you to make love to me…"
Dean stared at him, then tried to get up. "Sam, you've already tried this when we were locked in that closet. My answer is still no."
Sam took Dean's pirate hat off and tossed it to the side, taking his microphone set off second, putting it in his pocket with his set.
"Please, Dean? I haven't had you inside of me for a week now, and I miss the feel. We usually do it two nights a week at least… so, come on—put your anger and irritation behind you and take me," Sam begged, grinding his hips into Dean's.
Dean groaned at the feel, deciding whether or not to say 'yes,' watching Sam untie his pirate cape and pushing it off his shoulders for the second time that night.
He couldn't stay mad at Sammy.
But the job wasn't finished, and that was supposed to be their first priority right now. Dean had to compromise with himself.
He hated doing that.
Sam began to untie his shirt, trailing kisses up and down his neck.
Dean wanted to smack himself for his decision—Sam was doing one helluva job turning him on—but he forced himself to think of their current location and the kind of case they were working.
"Sammy…"
"Hm?"
Dean bit back the moan wanting to escape his throat caused by the special attention his brother was giving to his ear.
"Can you wait two and a half hours…?"
Sam stopped everything he was doing and looked up at Dean. As soon as he did, something made of glass shattered on the back of his head, knocking him out.
"Sam…? Sammy?" Dean asked, panic rising in his voice as Sam's weight forced him to lay back on the bed. He looked up and saw a man with another empty beer bottle clutched in his hand.
It only took a moment for Dean to realize that this was the spirit they were supposed to be hunting.
The spirit flickered in and out, then smiled, as if he were satisfied that he had smashed an empty bottle against someone's head.
Dean knew why he had done it, but it still didn't keep him from feeling pissed off that the spirit physically hurt his baby brother. He felt around under Sam to find his tux pocket, and pulled out the little slip of notebook paper that had the spell on it.
"I don't care what you're trying to do, but hurting my brother in the process is where I draw the line…" Dean growled, unfolding the sheet of paper.
The spirit tilted his head, wondering what Dean was doing.
Dean started reading. "'Your present tense has come and past, this current attempt will be your last…'"
The spirit began flickering faster, confusion contorting his face as he examined himself.
Dean kept reading. "'…now is the time to leave this place, never again will you show your face.'"
Light illuminated the spirit, and he looked at Dean with a look of pleading and confusion. In a minute he was completely gone, for good.
For a second, Dean nearly felt guilt, but it passed quickly. His father had made him into a soldier—a true hunter—and he didn't usually feel guilty for the things he hunted.
Dean looked down and saw that Sam was still unconscious, and he checked to make sure his head wasn't bleeding in the back. It wasn't, which made Dean breathe a sigh of relief. He gently rolled his younger brother off him to put on his cape and to retrieve his hat for the second time that night.
After loading Sam onto his back, Dean took one last look around the bedroom, then headed out the door to the staircase.
xOx
Dean found Roy and Jake in the kitchen, downing more of what Dean was pretty sure was that alcoholic punch in the living room, and cleared his throat to get their attention. He shifted Sam's position on his back a little when the two looked over at him.
"What happened to Sam, Dean?" Roy asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Ahh… he passed out, but don't worry; he'll be fine. He's survived worse," Dean replied, shrugging a little.
"What happened to the spirit?" Jake asked after the two nodded.
"He's taken care of. He won't be haunting you anymore."
"Good," Roy and Jake said simultaneously, both sounding relieved.
"Well, we oughta get going back to Oklahoma City, considering…" Dean said, motioning to Sam on his back with his head.
"You're welcome to stay here the night so you won't be on the road so late," Roy offered, smiling. We have plenty of rooms.
Dean smiled back (which he almost regretted doing since he suspected Roy of trying to hit on him), but shook his head. "Thanks, but Sam might freak out if he woke up in a different bed than he had this morning." It was only a half-lie, considering he basically promised Sammy some action later on.
He swore Roy looked a bit disappointed, but the cowboy-clad host nodded and led Dean to the front door, the living room's music louder than in the kitchen.
"Thank you so much for taking care of our problem," Jake said, following the two.
"Oh, no problem. It's what we do," Dean replied, another smile on his face. "I would shake your hands, but they're a little full right now…" He motioned Sam again, who hadn't come to yet, despite how loud the music was.
The three laughed.
"Well, you guys take care," Roy said, opening the door for Dean. "It was a real pleasure having you."
"You too," Dean said, nodding once. "Ash has mine and Sam's numbers if you need us again."
"Gotcha," the two hosts said in chorus.
"See ya," Dean called over his shoulder, receiving the same response.
He walked to the Impala, careful to take the keys from his pocket without dropping on of Sam's legs. He was equally careful in unlocking the driver's side door and the back door next to it. He opened the back door and lowered Sam into the Impala, laying him across the backseat.
Dean closed the door and opened the driver's door, getting in to the car. He started the engine, smiled at the satisfying purr, then backed out of the field onto the road, heading back to Oklahoma's capitol.
(TBC)
--
Agh, sorry, Wincest fans—I know I promised heavier Wincest in this chapter, but I didn't think it felt right to have it in this chapter, where I needed to put closure on the spirit. But! I promise promise I'll have a detailed, down-and-dirty lemon in the next chapter. Until then, R&R?
