Hey guys, warning: assumed under-aged drinking for people in the states. Personally I don't agree with the 21 law (I think it should be lower), but whatever. I don't specify Sam or Dean's age here - you can technically make them whatever ages you want. Cheers!

Sam burped. Loudly.

Dean turned and grinned, slapping Sam on the knee.

"You're gettin' there, Sammy!" He said, his eyes blazing with excitement. Sam squinted back.

"Y'r gettin… too much pleasure outta this…" Sam slurred, vaguely reaching for the beer on the coffee table. It seemed to be swaying back and forth - Sam really didn't appreciate it.

Dean laughed and leaned forward, grabbing the beer for his little brother and handing it to him, making sure Sam had a good grip before letting go. Sam took another swig.

"What're we even watching?!" Sam asked, sounding disgusted as he stared at the television. Dean jerked over to look at his brother, his expression feigning indignity.

"Dude. It's Speed."

"It's lame."

"No it's no-"

"It'as Kee-an-uureeves init!" Sam said vehemently, eyes wide, and gesturing to the screen with the same hand that held his beer. "Oh-shit," Sam said wearily, staring at the beer spilling over his hand.

In the blink of an eye Dean was right beside him, pulling the beer out of his grip and wiping his hand with a towel.

"Dude you're wasted," he chuckled as Sam just watched him clean his hand off.

"Shhhhhutup," Sam said slowly, then started laughing.

Dean joined in: this was hilarious. He leaned back, staying close to his brother as Sam hunched forward and squinted his eyes at the television.

"Ssss…." Sam started and stopped. Dean snorted, trying to keep his condescending laughter in check.



"You started going, 'sssss,' and then just stopped. What were ya gonna say?"

"Sssssandra Bullock's ssssuper hot."

Dean started laughing.

"Totally," he agreed, grabbing his own beer from the coffee table. He glanced at his brother's profile just as he was about to lie back against the couch.

"Hey - whoa-whoa-whoa you okay?" Dean asked, suddenly serious as he saw Sam convulsively swallowing with his eyes closed. He put his hand on Sam's back and felt the kid's slight sways up and down.

"I… No," Sam replied, his voice strained but definitive: no, he was not okay.

"Okay hold on - hold on dude…" Dean said as he jumped off the couch and ran to grab the trash from the bathroom. "Don't throw up yet! Hold it!" He yelled from the bathroom as he grabbed the trashcan and ran out back to his brother's side.

"Ah… Shit…" Sam said miserably between heavier and heavier breaths. He felt his brother's arm around his back maneuver him to the side of the couch. "Wh-What…"

A second later Sam was staring into a trash bin lined with clear plastic.

"No!" Sam yelled, jerking back. His world turned upside down and he felt arms grab him and pull him forward again. "Ican-ake-it ta the bathroom D'n…" Sam garbled, drunkenly annoyed.

"It's cool, dude, shush, just throw up," he heard Dean whisper to him softly.

"Seeeeriously-?" Sam whined, feeling Dean's hands against his back and head, keeping him facing down into the trash can.

"Yeah man, it's cool, just do it. Better out than in if you're sick, y'know?" Dean coaxed, starting to rub Sam's back as he crouched on the floor holding the waste bin in front of Sam.

Sam's world was whirling; Dean's rubs against his back overwhelming his senses.

"Sss-stop touching me," Sam begged, feeling sicker as Dean continued. He tried to elbow Dean's hand away.

"Hey!" Dean said sharply, grabbing Sam's arm and directing it to the waste basket. "Don't do that. Hold the bin," he ordered as he resumed his rubs and Sam gripped the basket tightly, trying to make that his anchor. "C'mon bud just throw up," Dean said lightly, sounding in control.

"Uh…" Sam hiccuped a second, then everything was twirling, the floor waving like water, and the last thing Sam could say was, "okay."

A few minutes later Sam opened his eyes to complete darkness, the muffled sounds of a movie playing in the background. His head was cricked down against the armrest of the moth-eaten sofa. Slowly, he started moving his hand up to his face and realized he was covered by a blanket. He felt a soft, warm pressure against his heart. Dean.

"-D'n?" He murmured, pressing his hand against Dean's. He realized he was lying across Dean's lap with a blanket covering him. He shivered and felt Dean lean over him.

Slowly, the blanket got pulled back and Sam blinked into Dean's concerned eyes.

"Hey dude, you cool?" Dean murmured, pushing Sam's bangs back. Sam swallowed and blinked, nodding.

"Yeah. Why'm I on 'ur lap?" Sam asked groggily. Another shiver shot through his body.

"Definitely not me. I put you in blankets and you-" Dean started explaining as another chill shook Sam's body. Dean gave a huff in response and whispered, "hold on a sec-" as he pulled Sam up, angling him into the crook of Dean's neck. His other hand gripped Sam's knees and bent them in so they'd curl around Dean's side.

"You…" Sam began, breathing heavily from the movements, "did this to me, you jerk," he finished. His small breaths of laughter weren't lost on Dean. He was lying flush against Dean's shoulder, breathing against his neck.

Dean chuckled, boosting his kid brother up against him. He pulled the blanket over Sam's head again and started moving - leaning forward. Sam felt the momentum, nausea creeping up with it, then the landing back to the sofa and it settled his senses back down again.

He realized Dean had just grabbed his beer and was taking another swig. Dean was still watching the movie, stilldrinking… just… with his binged-out little brother in his arms.

A second later Sam felt Dean's hand smoothing circles against his back.

"You wanna to move to the bed?" He asked casually, as if nothing bad had happened.

Sam sighed. He listened to the movie playing, the calming darkness: the wool blanket still covering his vision.

He shook his head and crunched his body more against Dean, shaking his head.

"N-no…" he murmured, his head limply falling back against Dean's shoulder. Dean pressed his palm softly against Sam's head over the blanket.

"-kay, you're okay," Dean murmured. Sam nodded against Dean's neck. He crunched more to lean against his big brother and felt Dean give an affectionate laugh as he grabbed Sam's knees and pulled him in closer.

Sam jerked awake at the sound of loud whistles and rings. Immediately he felt arms tightening around him-

"-yeah, but I'm taller," Sam heard Keanu Reeves' voice from the television. Then crashing, clashing noises of a train…

"-hey you awake?" Dean murmured, pulling the blanket off Sam's face. Sam blinked, feeling a hell of a lot better than he was before. He swallowed and nodded.

"Yeah… yeah hey," he said slowly, starting to realize his position in Dean's arms. "Dude…" he said, unhappy.

Dean laughed and braced his arms under Sam's back and knees.

"Dude!" Sam yelled as Dean lifted up, carrying Sam like a bride. "What are you doing?!" Sam squeaked, annoyed. It seemed much too easy for Dean to actually carry him like this. Dean continued to laugh as he carried his writhing little brother over to bed.

"What- Oh! Sorry? You don't like this?! Sorry! Here!" And with his last word, Dean dropped Sam onto the bed. Sam bounced on the mattress and leaned over.

"You suck!"

"You suck! You can't hold your liquor, lil bro," Dean teased, pulling the covers down. Sam watched, raising his legs up so it was easier.

"I've never been drunk before! That's not fair!" Sam whined, laughing.

"Yeah-yeah whatever… Lie down," Dean ordered good-naturedly. Sam did as he was told and felt the covers land over him.



"You're awesome," Sam whispered. Dean grinned and crouched down to wipe Sam's bangs off his face.

"You too," Dean whispered.

The End

Writer's Note: Thank you so much for reading. Feedback is always awesome. I'll try to get back into my WIPs as soon as possible. I love you - Cheers!