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04 September 2008 @ 07:00 am
Fiction: Twentyone 1/2  
Title: Twentyone
Author: wiccaqueen
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Warning: PWP
Summary: Sam has to spend his 21st birthday all alone, until Dean shows up for a surprise visit
Notes: Written as a birthday gift for momotastic
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean belong to their respected owners at CW! I'm just borrowing them....


Twentyone 1/2

Sam turned, shifting uncomfortably in his bed. It was hot in his room, the air seeming to stand still. The heat soaked through his thin sheets, burning his body. Small drops of sweat gathered on his forehead, his chest and on the small of his back. Although it was only May, temperatures were up close to a hundred during the day and almost ninety during the night. Well that’s California for you.

He cursed under his breath, as he turned again and threw the sheets off. Unfortunately the dorm he was staying at didn’t have air-conditioning yet. But the room was cheap, and that was the only thing that had mattered to him when he had signed up for it last fall. Last fall…when he had packed all his belongings into a duffel bag and a backpack, snatched 200 Dollars from their savings and had set off to live his normal life.

Well here he was, finally living that so desired normal life…and feeling lonely. That was the real reason why he couldn’t sleep at 3am. Jess had left two days before to visit her folks. He couldn’t blame her. He sometimes even envied the fact that she got along so very well with her family. Besides he hadn’t told her about his special day. Didn’t want to in the first few weeks of their new relationship. And birthdays hadn’t really come up yet in their conversation. It didn’t bother him…really…well…maybe a tiny bit…or a big bit. Okay, so he was the guy lying awake in his bed mopping over the fact that he was going to spend his 21st birthday all alone.

After another 20 minutes he decided he’d had enough and got up, switching on the lamp at his nightstand to have a least some minimum of light in his room. He walked into the bathroom and turned the tap. When the cold water hit his face it felt like heaven! Lingering in the moment, he closed his eyes again and let the cold water trickle down his neck and spine. When he opened his eyes again, he still looked like shit. Heavy eyelids and dark shadows below them, told of the long unslept hours. Oh well….if he couldn’t sleep, he might as well do something useful with his time than just sit around mobbing.

When he emerged from the bathroom, he went to his book shelf, took out a copy of ‘Latin course II’ and started looking through the pages. The language wasn’t unfamiliar to him, not at all in fact, since he had learnt to speak certain words and phrases since his childhood. He’d even learned to translate a lot of what he said, but that was mostly all religious stuff; always linked to an exorcism. He’d never really gotten into the grammar or anything like that. Now, as he was slowly deciding to maybe go into Law school, brushing up on his Latin might not be such a bad idea. After all the vocabulary was quite different and since he at least wanted to take one course in Roman law, he decided it would be good preparation.

“Res, rei, rei, rem, re…res, rerum, rebus, res, rebus…“ He went through his declinations, over and over again, trying to learn them by heart. The words ran easily of his tongue.

He read through pages and pages, ever on going until his eyes almost stung. Focusing wasn’t normally a problem for Sam Winchester, even at 3 am, but something just seemed to block his mind from soaking up any more information. Underneath thick layers of denial the feeling of loneliness was beginning to shine through, really fucking hard!

He looked up from his book, letting his gaze roam through the small room, and finally settling on the shadows cast by the small lamp on the nightstand.

How many nights had he spend awake? He was used to long nights of hunting and it never had really bothered him all too much. But since he’d been at Stanford, he’d learnt to deal with totally different kinds of long nights. The ones where he couldn’t sleep because of all the guilt pushing its’ way to the surface, because of all the unanswered questions hanging in the air and because of all the uncertainty of how his family was doing. They had been all he had ever known, all he had ever cared about. And then all of a sudden it had just been him. He had chosen freedom at a terrible price. Leaving his family behind, leaving Dean had been like severing a limb from his body. Ever since then he had felt empty, as if something was missing at the very core of him.

Jess had managed to fill that empty space quite nicely over the last few months, but somewhere a small dark spot still remained. And tonight that spot just seemed to grow bigger and bigger, ripping through his heart and leaving it bleeding and barely beating.

He shouldn’t be feeling like this, not on his goddamn birthday! The sun hadn’t even risen yet and already he knew this birthday wasn’t going to any fun at all. Not that birthdays had been big in the Winchester family, but at least they had been fun at times.

With an agonizing pain he remembered his 18th birthday, only a couple of years back.

Dad had been out hunting once again, tracing a werewolf or something similar. Anyway, it had been too dangerous for Sam to go along and since John had actually managed not to forget what date it was, he had left Dean behind too, probably to be with Sam. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. With Dean around Sam never felt lonely or bored. When Dean was around there was always something fun to do. It was the best birthday gift Sam could get.

Dean even made things better when he bought them a six-pack of beer and officially declared Sam old enough to drink. They had drowned the beer within an hour, Dean telling stories about his latest conquests and poking fun at the Sam for still being a virgin. Sam had just laughed and listened in fascination to every word Dean had to say. Later Dean had even opened a bottle of Jack which he had hidden in his duffel. He had challenged Sam to drink it, knowing that his brother was a complete lightweight. Of course Sam had to swing the bottle out of his hand at that very moment, declaring that he could manage just fine!

“I can take a shot. It’s not like I’m fifteen.”

“No, Sammy, guess your all grown up now, eh? Just take it slow. ”

Dean sat next to Sam on the bed they shared and watched him take his first swallow directly from the bottle. When he was sure Sam wasn’t immediately going to choke or vomit, he let him keep the bottle for a while, resting it on his thigh and just sipping from it every now and then.

Sam remembered the first burn down his throat, that warm embrace of the whisky; he had come to love it ever since then. He wasn’t a hard drinker, far from it, just every now and then he liked a glass of Jack, savoring the strong, earthy taste and thinking about those good old days.

After a while, Dean had taken hold of the bottle again, followed by a protest from Sam.

“Hey, I haven’t even had that much yet! Come on Dean, you promised! It’s my birthday after all!”

Dean frowned and stared into familiar puppy eyes, all big and pleading.

“Well okay, but don’t blame me if you have a hangover tomorrow morning! And don’t let Dad see you that way, or I’m going to be the one who has to take the blame.”

“Yeah, yeah. I won’t drink that much. I’m still feeling pretty good.”

Dean sighed and gave the bottle back to his little brother after taking a generous swallow himself.

“You might feel good now…that’s just how this stuff works. Makes you feel all warm, loose and lightheaded. But believe me you’re going to regret it if you drink too much!”

Sam ogled Dean and grinned. As if that had ever stopped Dean.

The warmth spread throughout his body, making his limbs heavy but at the same time making his head feel light as a feather. He sank down in the bundle of sheets and pillows behind him, staring up at the ceiling.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Dean asked, leaning slightly over him.

“Yup…I think I finally get why people drink to loosen up. I feel like I could do anything right now. Even ask Donna out on a date.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to grin.

“Donna? Is that the girl from school you’ve been hot for, for ages now?”

“Try three weeks. We’ve only been here that long.”

“Yeah well, that can feel like a century for a teenager. Believe me I know…So she hot?”

Sam turned to the side to face Dean, who was now lying beside him, head propped up on his elbow.

“Hell yeah. Dark hair, dark long lashes, amazing skin…and her smell…Jesus! Like soap, fresh flowers, candy…all in one, you know?”

Dean held his gaze and looked into Sammy’s eyes lit up although the room was almost completely dipped in darkness.

“Yeah, I think I get the picture. So you jerk off to her?”

Sam’s voice got stuck somewhere in his throat allowing only a grunt to escape his lips.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t?”

Sam shot him a disbelieving look.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

“Why not?” Dean persisted. “I’ve just told you all about my latest conquests.”

“Well that’s you.”

Dean sighed and poked Sam into the ribs.

“Come on!”

Sam had to giggle lightly, when the poking turned into an aggressive tickling attack.

“Dean! Dean stop it!” Sam chocked out between the laughter.

But Dean just went on managing to find all those spots that affected Sam the most. Damn the guy just knew him too well!

Almost breathless, Sam turned on his back trying to free himself from his brother’s control. But Dean just saw the advantage of the situation and climbed atop him, thighs on either side of Sam’s hips. When his hands came down again to tickle along his sides, Sam yelped like a puppy and almost started to cry. It was fucking embarrassing!

“Just tell me!” Dean nearly whispered, hot breath ghosting somewhere near Sam’s ear. It made him shiver all of a sudden. He stopped to whine and just held Dean’s gaze. Time to give in.

“Okay you win. Yeah I do.”

“See that wasn’t too hard! Knew it all along, after all you are my brother! And you have to follow my suit.”

Sam had to giggle again, although Dean’s hand where still, resting close to his shoulders. He didn’t make any move to get up, so Sam just huffed out a breath, suddenly feeling too hot.

“So you think of her tits. What are they like? Big or small?”

“Dean!!!”

“Come on Sammy, or do you want another round?” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers for demonstration.

Then he smiled and leaned down, chest just above Sam’s heaving chest.

“I bet you think of her full breasts swaying when she walks. Hm? And I bet you think of her ass, all round and firm. I bet you think of her sweet little cunt, all hot and tight.”

Dean’s voice had dropped a couple decibles, sounding almost like a low groan in Sam’s ears. He listened to the filth spilling from those plump lips, his breath hitching. The images Dean managed to evoke in his mind were incredible. In an instant he could feel his blood gathering to head south. Combined with the alcohol his body couldn’t fight the urge to turn into one wanting piece of flesh.

“I bet you want to lick her. See what she tastes like when you eat her out.”

Sam had began to toss and turn, not knowing if he was trying to free himself from his brother or to move closer, get more friction. The heat continued to grow, making the body parts below his abdomen feel like they were on fire.

“And then I bet you want to enter her, nice and slow until her wetness surrounds you entirely and you just melt into it.”

Sam couldn’t breathe anymore. His cock was fully erect, rubbing achingly against the denim and leaking pre-come into his boxers. With Dean still atop him, holding him down, there was no way he did not feel him, know what his words were doing to him.

Finally Sam managed to groan “Dean” not really knowing himself what he meant. Did he want more? Or did he want it to stop? He couldn’t decide anymore, the alcohol and lust crushing every logically thought in his mind.

“Feel the effects of the alcohol now, Sammy?”

All of a sudden Dean pushed his hips down, just enough to elicit a groan from Sam, who had his head thrown back slightly. Then he smirked.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? All your blood heating up like that.”

Sam was beyond answering. His breathing was uneven and heavy, his pupils blown dark, almost black with pure desire.

“Dean”, Sam huffed again, hardly more than a whisper.

Still smirking Dean leaned down, his hot breath brushing against Sam’s collarbone as he spoke:

“I know what you want; know how you ache for her. I may not be able to give you Donna as a birthday present, but I can at least make you feel good while you think of her. You want me to do that?”

Suddenly Sam had gone totally still below his brother. What exactly did Dean mean with that remark?

Then he felt something even warmer brush his collarbone and cheek. Guessing from the slickness it was Dean’s tongue, and goddamn! Sam threw his head back again and closed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation. Dean licked his way from one cheekbone to the other, stopping at Sam’s chin to drop lower and gently suck at the soft skin just below. Sam yelped, sounding almost more pathetic than before while Dean had attacked him with his wiggly fingers.

When Dean lifted his head again, Sam opened his eyes to stare with his blurry, lust filled vision.

“You want me to do that Sammy? Need your permission.”

Sam still couldn’t quite figure out what Dean was about to do, but if it felt anything like his tongue had felt like just minutes before than he was all systems go!

He nodded, still unable to speak.

Then the smirk on Dean’s face faded into something more gentle and earnest and he slowly bend down again, his lips brushing softly over Sam’s, which were still lightly parted. The first touch was almost timid, giving Sam just a minimum of time to get used to the idea. When Dean was sure that his little brother wouldn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, tongues meeting somewhere in the middle.

It wasn’t Sam’s first kiss. He had some level of experience, which he was quite proud of, but this…none of the kissing or groping could live up to this! Dean knew exactly what he was doing. His tongue was licking and teasing, while his hands slowly began to glide over his lower belly. When Dean reached the hem of Sam’s jeans, he started undoing his belt, his face still holding that open expression of love and lust, all rolled into one.

“Just imagine my hands to be hers. Imagine my kisses to be hers.”

Sam bit his lip and nodded when Dean finally pulled his zipper down and guided his hand inside to cup his cock through his boxers. He could feel the fingers still curl around his aching member, as Dean’s other hand worked his jeans all the way down. The grip was firm, all big rough hands Sam couldn’t get enough of. He wanted to feel those hands on him everywhere, bare skin to bare skin! But how the hell was he going to imagine those hands to be a woman’s? He imagined Donna’s hand to be softer, gentler and not half as huge as Dean’s. She would probably be more timid, not knowing how to stroke or where to touch. Dean’s hands however were just as skilled as his tongue. Who’d want Donna when you could have Dean?

Sam arched into every touch, already so turned on that it wouldn’t take long…not long at all, not when Dean started pumping his dick while licking his inner thigh at the same time.

When Dean lifted his hand away long enough to tare his boxers away, Sam whimpered.

“Greedy little brother, aren’t you? Don’t worry I’ll get you there.”

Dean’s own breath was heavier as he spoke now, excitement and tension bouncing of his tongue. When Sam was finally naked, Dean dipped down, placing kisses on Sam’s navel as his hand found the sensitive head of his cock.

“Want to feel you, need to touch your soft, hot skin.”

Sam had never known what a turn on a voice could be, until he heard his brother whisper in the darkness. It didn’t matter if he muttered obscene words or just spoke everyday syllables. It was just his voice! God! That low, dark humming sound his tongue could make, vibrating along his throat. And when he spoke his name….Fuck!

“I wanna see you come apart for me, Sammy! Come on, know you want to…”

Using his index finger, he smeared precome around the head and used it as lubrication. Then he let his hand glide slick over his entire length, pumping him over and over again, from the tip right down to his balls. And Jesus Fuck! Sam had never felt anything so good in his entire life!

He threw his head back again, unable to do anything else and let Dean jerk him off, nice and slow with firm strokes and pulls.

Sam had no idea what a cunt would feel like around his cock, but he was sure it couldn’t be any better than this!

“Come on Sammy. Wanna see you shoot your load all over my hand.”

He wanted it to last, wanted it to go on forever, but damn he felt himself already almost stumbling over the age.

Sam arched one last time, letting out a deep groan and then his whole body shuttered and finally let go. He rode out his spasms, which felt like a hundred, under Dean’s touch, understanding for the first time what Heaven must feel like.

Dean stroked him through it all, only releasing his cock once it was completely softened again. Then he came back up, grinning wide and gave Sam a last sloppy wet kiss.

Sam breathed into it, still struggling to catch enough air, and let Dean kiss him open mouthed.

Then he watched as his brother got up and went over to the table to throw Sam an old t-shirt.

‘Better get cleaned up Sammy.’ And then he turned and headed for the bathroom.

Sam had so many questions, as to how and why, but all his mind could come up with after the post-orgasmic bliss was how awesome it had been.

They didn’t talk about it. When Dean emerged from the bathroom, Sam was already half dressed again and Dean looked as if nothing had happened. They sat down for a quite dinner afterward and watched a crappy horror movie before going to bed like on any other night.

It wasn’t until the lights were off and Sam was close to drifting into wonderland that Dean turned around to face him and said: “Happy Birthday Sammy”.

Part Two
 
 
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