Title: I Never

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Sam and Dean get drunk and play a game.

Disclaimer: I don't own them…though I wish I did.

Warnings: Slash, incest

Genre: PWP, slight angst

Spoilers: Reference to events in Born Under a Bad Sign

Author's Note: Takes place not long after Born Under a Bad Sign. This is my first fic in the Supernatural fandom, so I hope I did the boys justice.


It was Dean's idea to get smashed after defeating the poltergeist in Defiance, Ohio. It was always Dean's idea to get smashed. The difference this time was that Sam decided to let loose and join Dean in the celebration. So they went to a local bar, had several beers, swindled a few guys out of a few hundred dollars and then went back to the hotel with a large bottle of cheap tequila and shit-eating grins on their faces.

Sam collapsed on the bed nearest the door, clumsily taking off his shoes and socks.

"Deeeean…we don't have any shot glasses," Sam proclaimed, holding the plastic tequila bottle in one hand, eyeing it with confused and slightly perturbed eyes. Dean toed off his boots, yanked off his socks and snatched the bottle from Sam's hand.

"No shit, lightweight. Ever heard of chuggin'?" He twisted the cap off the bottle, took a large swig, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and passed the bottle back to Sam.

"Dude, I'm not a lightweight," Sam said as he tilted his head back to take a swig of tequila. He swallowed, making a disgusted face and a slight gagging sound. "God I hate tequila."

He put the bottle on the night stand between the beds and laid back down, taking in the slight haze that had settled across his mind. "We should do something," he said.

"I could go back to the bar and get that red head that was hanging all over you," Dean said with a smirk.

"God no. She smelled like menthol cigarettes, cheap bear and barf."

"Ahh, my kinda girl," Dean said, reaching for the tequila bottle and taking another swallow, then kicking Sam in the shin and waving the bottle in front of him. Sam grunted, but sat up and took the bottle from his brother's hand.

Sam took another belt of tequila, this time managing to keep the grimace from his face. "Let's play a game," he said, grinning stupidly.

"You're really fucking drunk, aren't you?" Dean asked, stealing back the bottle and taking a sip.

Sam nodded in response and Dean threw a pillow aimed at his head, but it ended up glancing his shoulder.

"Okay, I'll bite. What kinda game?"

"Ummmm." Sam bit his lip and scrunched his forehead in concentration. "How bout 'I Never'."

Another pillow went sailing through the air, this time nailing Sam right in the head.

"Jesus Sammy, what are we thirteen-year-old girls at a slumber party?"

"Well, I don't hear you offering any suggestions," Sam said, stealing the bottle back and drinking. "Come on," he said, he words starting to slur, "It'll be fun." He tried to give his best pleading puppy dog look, but it came off as goofy rather than pathetic.

Dean still crumbled. "Fine. Just stop making that face…it'll freeze that way," he said, yanking the bottle back. "Remind me how this game goes."

"Weeeeelll," Sam drawled. "First you hold up your hands like this," he said, lifting both hands in the air and spreading his fingers apart.

"Okaaay," Dean said, "That's officially the gayest thing you've done all night."

Sam rolled his eyes and chucked one of Dean's pillows back in his direction. It hit the wall, causing a picture hanging on the wall to sway precariously.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Then you say things that you've never done. Like…I've never climbed Mount Everest. If the other person has done it, they put a finger down. The one with the most fingers up after twenty turn wins."

"So let me get this straight…whoever's the biggest loser wins? Well why even bother playing…Congratulations Sammy. Finally a game you can win every time."

"I'm laughing on the inside Dean," Sam said. "Come on, let's play."

"Why're you so hyper about this Sammy?" Dean asked, lying back wishing his brother would just let him go to sleep.

"Cuz it's either this or sleep and…I…" Sam looked down at his hands, fiddling with a loose string on the bed spread.

Dean sighed. Sam's nightmares had been steadily increasing after the possession. He would wake up screaming, Dean's name on his lips. Dean knew his brother was harboring guilt about shooting him. No matter how many times Dean told him there was no way he could control it, that it was the Demon, Sam seemed hell bent on punishing himself for crimes he didn't commit. It was part of the reason why Dean was trying to get Sam to loosen up tonight. He hoped that a night of drinking and laughs would relax him, or at least make him pass out so that he could get a decent night's sleep. If playing the god damn game would make Sam happy, he'd play the stupid fucking game.

"Okay," Dean said, "Let's go. You first." He sat up and held both hands out in front of him.

Sam smiled broadly, took a sip from the bottle and squinted, as if he was trying to solve a really difficult riddle.

"I've got it…I've never stolen an ice cream truck," he said, smirking.

"Awwww, Sammy, that's lame. You can't use shit against me like that," Dean said, folding his thumb into his hand. He grabbed the bottle and took a swig. "Whatever, my turn…I never…" Dean grinned evilly, "let a girl pee on me."

Sam blushed heavily. "Dammit Dean. I told you to never bring that up again. I was sixteen for God's sake…and she promised to let me fuck her if I let her. What was I suppose to do?" He put down a finger.

Dean laughed heavily, tears welling up in his eyes as he clutched his side.

"Okay, okay…new rule. No using shit we know about each other," he said, grabbing the bottle.

"Fine by me."

"Fine…my turn." Sam gulped down some tequila and scrunched up his nose. "Ummm…I've never had my palm read."

Dean sent him a surprised look and put down a finger. "The people we grew up with and you never had your palm read?" Dean shook his head in wonder.

"I've never had sex with a midget."

Sam's fingers stayed up. "Geez Dean, I'm sensing you're going for a sexual theme."

"Damn right, psychic boy," Dean said, making a grab for the bottle.

"I've never worn makeup."

One of Dean's fingers went down.

Sam's eyes widened, a giggle escaped from his lips and then he couldn't stop laughing, his side started to ache as his laughter turned into gasps for air.

"It was for a fucking job," Dean yelled, taking a sip and setting the bottle on the nightstand, waiting for Sam's laughter to die down and for his hands to go back up.

"My turn," he said with a clipped voice. "I've…never had anything go in my ass."

Sam put a finger down.

"Dude?"

"What?"

"Tell me you're talking about a suppository."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's my turn. I've never used a bat to actually play baseball."

Dean put a finger down. "Sam…that's just sad."

Sam shrugged his shoulders in response.

"I've never had sex with a guy."

Sam looked at him with eyes that seemed suddenly more sober. He put a finger down.

"Okay…so I officially don't know a thing about you…so…was it just one guy?"

Sam glared at him in response and reached for the bottle, swaying slightly as he leaned towards the nightstand.

"Sam."

"Dean," Sam said in a sing-song slurred voice.

Dean gave him a hard stare.

"Fine…no it wasn't just one guy."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this."

"Wellll," Sam said, huffing dramatically, "Maybe because my brother's a shameless skirt chaser and calls me a girl all the time and I didn't want to add ammo by telling him I'm bisexual."

"Oh."

"Yea."

"I've never seen you with a guy."

"That's because, unlike you…I can be discreet."

"What? You telling me you've been sneaking off with guys while I'm not looking?"

Sam stared at him as if he'd just proclaimed the sky was blue.

"No way…I would have noticed."

"When? Before or after you got plastered and stuck your hand up some girl's skirt."

"You're trying to tell me that while I'm talking up chicks at the bar, you're off blowing some dude?"

Sam gave him the stare again.

"No way dude," Dean shook his head in disbelief.

Sam took another swig of tequila, realizing that he should probably stop since the stuff was starting to go down like water. And it was making him say really stupid shit. "You could go back to the bar…there's a guy there that could corroborate my story."

Dean stared, half impressed that his three-sheets-to-the-wind brother managed to get out the word corroborate without stuttering, half shocked that this same brother had had his mouth wrapped around some guy's cock earlier that evening.

"You're kidding. You were gone for like…five minutes when you went to the bathroom."

"What can I tell you…I suck cock like an angel…his words, not mine."

"I don't believe you."

"You want me to go get him…I will." Sam stood up, swaying slightly, and then headed for the door.

"Sit down you idiot." Dean yanked on Sam's arm and sent him sprawling across Dean's bed.

"I do."

"What?"

"Suck cock like an angel."

"Sammy…that's blasphemous."

Sam laughed. "I was always better at it than eating pussy."

Dean rolled his eyes and sprawled out next to Sam.

"I could prove it," Sam said with a lazy drawl.

"What?" Confused, Dean turned his head to look at his brother. Sam's face was close enough that he could smell the tequila on his breath. His pupils were wide and his lips were full and Dean suddenly understood.

"You're drunk."

"So are you," Sam said, his voice breathy and soft.

Dean turned away, trying, and failing to not think about his brother's lips around his cock.

"Dean," Sam said, using the pleading voice he whipped out when he wanted something from Dean and none of his other tactics were working.

"Sam…this is fucked up…even for us."

"So."

"So, it's illegal in most states."

"Yea…well so is most of the shit we do."

"People get shunned for this kinda shit."

"Who would shun us? We don't belong anywhere."

"Why are you arguing this?"

"Dean…I just…let me…please," Dean turned back to Sam and saw his eyes pleading. Dean suddenly realized that it wasn't a joke or misplaced drunken horniness. Sam needed him, needed to do this for him and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"I don't know what to say Sammy."

"Say yes."

And he wanted to. He could blame it on the alcohol, but he knew that was a lie. He'd wanted this for a long time, he just never let himself dwell on it. It was simply there, something he never acknowledged. He'd seen it in Sam's eyes too, when his brother thought his wasn't looking, that he wouldn't notice. It was something they just didn't talk about. Something they had silently agreed was too dangerous to mention. But now, a bit of tequila and Sam was forcing open all the doors they refused to even acknowledge.

"Yes," Dean said, barely thinking.

Sam was up before he even finished the word, straddling Dean's body, his face hovering inches above Dean's.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean said as his slid a hand behind Sam's neck and pulled his head down. Their lips just touched, neither moving, both suddenly afraid to make the next movie.

A smile suddenly spread across Dean's face.

"What?" Sam asked, a slight smirk forming, though his voice was tinged with worry.

A laugh escaped Dean's lips as his grin grew.

"It's just…that felt like I was kissing my brother," he said, grinning cheekily.

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed. "You big idiot…I don't know why I even try," he said, starting to pull away.

"No wait," Dean said, grabbing Sam and yanking him back on top of him.

"We just need to relax," he said softly, pulling Sam's head back down and brushing their lips together.

Dean parted his lips slightly, deepening the kiss and gripping Sam's body firmly against his. Sam moaned deeply, flicking his tongue against Dean's lips and then slipping in. They stayed like that, trading wet, sloppy kisses before Sam broke free, panting. Dean's lips were parted and full, slightly red from kissing. His eyes were glazed over, from the alcohol and arousal, his breath coming in sharp bursts. It was the hottest thing Sam had ever seen.

"I promised," Sam said, trailing kisses along Dean's jaw and then licking his neck slowly, "that I'd prove it." He nipped gently at Dean's neck and then lapped at the spot, causing Dean to buck his hips up.

Dean look slightly confused when Sam met his eyes, but then Sam trailed a hand down his chest and gently cupped his growing erection.

"Oh," Dean moaned, arching into Sam's hand, sudden understanding sparkling in his eyes.

Sam pulled Dean up and lifted off his shirt, kissing the newly exposed chest. He pushed Dean back down and started working on his jeans, popping open the button and then slowly bringing the zipper down. He slipped the jeans and boxers off in one smooth motion, throwing them on the empty bed.

He looked down to see Dean lying there, legs parted to accommodate Sam, pupils wide, erection stiff and leaking. It was too much. Sam quickly yanked off his own shirt, ripped off his jeans and boxers and knelt between Dean's parted legs.

He smiled, leaned in and kissed Dean deeply before kissing a trail down his body until he reached his intended destination.

He slowly licked Dean's cock, dragging his tongue along the underside from root to tip. Dean threw his head back and moaned loudly, brining a hand down to grip Sam's hair.

Sam smiled and repeated the action. He then grabbed the base, pumping slightly as he licked the leaking head. Dean's grip increased.

"Fuck Sammy," he breathed out in a sultry gasp.

And with that, Sam swallowed his brother's cock whole, relaxing his throat and swallowing him nearly to the root.

"Fuck!" Dean yelled, arching into Sam's mouth.

Sam started to bob his head slightly, pumping his other hand with the motion and swirling his tongue each time he reached the head. When he started humming in the back of his throat, Dean gasped, bringing his other head to rest on Sam's head.

"Sammy…Sammy," Dean whimpered a bit, his breathe coming in gasps, "Sammy…I'm gonna…I'm gonna cum Sammy…"

In response Sam kept up the rhythm. He felt Dean stiffen beneath him and suddenly he was coming, hot spurts entering Sam's mouth as he swallowed, savoring the taste, Dean moaning softly and deep through his orgasm, his grip on Sam's head loosening. As Dean came down, Sam lapped gently at his cock until Dean pulled his head away, the sensation too much for him.

Sam grinned and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slowly slid back up Dean's body.

Dean pulled his head down, kissing him sloppily, tasting himself in his brother's mouth.

"Well?" Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yea Sam…like a fucking angel."

Sam smiled broadly.

"Sam?"

"Yea," Sam said, trailing a finger along his brother's chest muscles.

"I've never given my brother a blow job."

Sam grinned, then lifted up a hand, fingers pointed outward. Then he slowly brought one of his fingers down.

"You know," Sam said, a smile on his lips, "we could fix that." He rocked gently into Dean, his cock still hard between them.

"Hell yea," Dean said, flipping them over until Sam was beneath him, both of them grinning drunkenly as Dean dragged his tongue down Sam's body.