Part 9, Birthdays
by ctrlphreaque
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January 24, 2000 -- Monday
Worry is one of the most useless activities known to man and is directly related to waiting. What is waiting but the act of doing nothing in expectation of doing something? First of all nothing can be done about either, it is enevitable. It is how people deal with them that changes perspective. Some people use the time to do other things, in the name of multitasking, take their minds' off the reason for the wait, thus seeming to speed up the time passage. Others sit and wonder, ponder, worry, pray in one order or another, which can seem to slow down time. And then there are the people who do absolutely nothing. These people could care less occupy their minds with anything but the act in and of itself, they have achieved the higher level of existance which allows them to wait without the worry or anticipation of the upcoming event.
Dean happens to be in the part of all groups. First, he tries to do other things to occupy his mind. Second, he worries and wonders what exactly will happen. Third, when it all comes down to it, he knows what is coming and can do nothing to stop it, so he blanks his thoughts and waits. Unfortunately, Dean has a good reason to worry today, it was his birthday.
Birthdays are supposed to be a day of celebration for the one having it and the ones contributing to it. Cakes, cards, drinks, stories of the years past, hopes for the future, none of which Dean will have on his day. No, on his day he could look forward to pain. Sam had taken to "celebrating" Dean's birthdays with a whipping. He had perverted the innocent tradition into his own twisted pleasure. Dean wished Sam would just forget about it like he made their parents forget but he had more than one scar to show for his birthdays.
Dean sat cowering in the back of his closet waiting. It was close to five and Sam would be home soon. All Dean ever did these days was wait. Wait for the pain, wait for the nightmares to consume him, wait for punishments for imagined offenses, wait for Sam.
Most of the time John and Mary ignored Dean, not of there own choosing, but from the suggestions of Sam. They did not see him even though he was in the same room. When they did interact with him it was polite, shallow, always in a rush, like they had something more important to do. It left Dean with a hollow feeling, he knew it was Sam but it hurt him none the less. He should be used to it by now, years of neglect compounding the pain.
After Sam ruined his escape plans a year and a half ago, Dean wondered aimlessly around the house. Sam had put more restrictions on his actions, where he could go, who he could see. Dean was cut off from the few friends he had and he was not to leave the house except for going to work. Last March Sam had declared that Dean had a job down at Alton's Garage and Body Shop, Monday through Friday, eight to three. Dean had to leave the house at 7:30 am and be home at 3:30 pm, no exceptions. Sam was always there to check and the one time Dean was late he was punished for it.
So now Dean waited. He had gotten home at 3:29 pm, just in time for the phone to ring. It was one of the only times that Dean was allowed to use the phone. If Sam was not home at 3:30, then Sam would call and request to talk to Dean, if Dean did not answer. Today was no exception.
"He-ll-lo?" Dean said into the receiver.
"Good boy, Dean. Right on time," came a lilting voice. "You are such a good boy, that I am going to do something very special for your birthday."
Dean cringed at those words. Nothing Sam did was special, it was all painful. But he responded as expected, "Th-thank-k y-you S-sam-m." Tears trailed down his face as he tried to stop his shaking.
"That's my boy," Sam's voice dripped lust. "Now get cleaned up and be waiting."
"Y-yes-s S-sam-m," Dean barely choked out before he heard the click. He stood there staring at the phone wishing Sam would just forget this one time. With a heavy sigh, Dean hung up the phone and did as instructed.
"Where is my birthday boy?" Dean jumped when he heard the yell. He scrambled to get down the stairs before his brother got mad thinking that he was hiding.
Dean found Sam in the kitchen sitting at the table. "H-hey S-sam-m," he hesitantly greeted his younger brother.
Sam smiled as he got up and approached his older brother. "Happy Birthday Dean," he said with a glint in his eye. He then reached up and cradled Dean's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. He pulled back placing his hands on Dean's shoulders. "So you are 21 today. You know what that means."
Dean fought to control his fears, but he had no idea what his brother was getting at. So he stood and shook his head.
"Dean, you get to go buy beer!" Sam said with delight even though Sam had been doing it for years, making the shopkeepers see what he wanted to see. With that they left the house and bought a 30 pack.
Back at the house they drank the beer in the living room while Sam talked about his day. Dean had one to Sam's three. When Dean was sure that Sam was good and drunk he tried to get away, thinking that Sam would pass out soon. He got up with the pretext of putting the rest of the 30 pack in the frige.
"Where da ya think yur goin'?" Sam slurred after Dean grabbing his leg.
"I w-was-s pu-ttin' th-thess-ss aw-way," Dean answered hoping Sam would take him at his word.
"Why d' hell would ya wan' t' do that?" Sam demanded, though he had about twelve he was not as inebriated as Dean had hoped. "Did I tell you to put them away?" his voice was getting dark and even.
"N-no," dispite his best efforts he was trembling. 'please just pass out,' he pleaded silently.
"Then bring them back," Sam ordered and when Dean got close he grabbed his arm and painfully jerked him down to his knees. Sam then slapped him hard, hard enough to cause Dean to loose balance.
"You do nothing without my permission," Sam said and slapped him again, this time it split Dean's lip. Sam grabbed Dean hair then kissed him forcefully causing his lip to tear more. The blood was coppery in his mouth and his lip hurt, he whimpered into Sam's kiss.
"Take off your clothes," Sam ordered when he released Dean. Dean wanted to protest but he knew better. Slowly he complied until he stood naked in front of his younger brother.
"Yes," Sam whispered then took Dean's dick in his hand and started to stroke. Dean wished for the billionth time that he would just disappear. His body responded and then Sam did something he never did before.
Standing shock still he watched as Sam sucked him. He did not know what to do. Before he could register what he was feeling Sam stood and shoved him face down on the couch and raped him. It was brutal and painful but luckily it was over fast. Sam came quickly, biting Dean on the shoulder barely missing the place that had almost healed from the last time. Sam pulled out then sat on the floor and grabbed another beer.
"Damn Dean, you are one fine piece of ass," Sam chuckled drinking in celebration. "Happy fucking Birthday big brother."
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