mickeym

Title: Best Birthday Ever
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~700
Spoilers: None, this is pre-series
Warnings: Incest, underage
Disclaimer: I don't own them; that privilege belongs to Kripke, et al.
Notes: This started out as a little comment bit I did for

wendy in her journal, back on Sam's birthday. I found it tonight when I was looking for a different file, and decided to expand it, clean it up, and share it. Because birthdays should be shared :) Enjoy!

"Hey, Sammy, think fast!" At Dean's voice, Sam glanced up from the dish he was drying just as the dishrag hit the sink, splashing bubbles and water across his chest.

"Dammit! Man, knock it off," Sam growled, tossing his towel onto the counter after scrubbing uselessly at his shirt. Now he'd be damp for the rest of the evening. Swell.

He ignored Dean as best he could, and settled in at the table. Another exciting night of homework, on a night that actually should be a fun one.

"Hey. You been grumpy all day, dork. What's up?" Dean slung an arm over Sam's shoulder, and Sam shrugged it off.

He had been -- was -- grumpy, and it was totally justifiable, in his opinion. It was his birthday, after all, and while he didn't expect it to take priority, an acknowledgment -- from Dean at least, since Dad is several states away right now -- would've been nice. Sam scowled and shifted his chair back from the table.

"Bite me, Dean." At least he got a break on chores tonight. They'd opted for pizza for dinner, and had eaten out of the box, so there hadn't been much in the way of dishes or cleanup. And bonus, there was even enough left over for breakfast, if Dean didn't finish it off in the middle of the night.

"Nah, I'm full right now, thanks." Dean pushed his chair back, too. "I'm gonna run to the store, get some beer. Back in a few."

Sam sighed. "Sure, whatever. I have studying to do, so I'll just be here..." But Dean was already gone; Sam was talking to himself.

~~~~

Calculus sucked donkey dongs, Sam thought, shoving his hand impatiently through his hair. It sucked even more to have to do calculus on his birthday.

Someday, I'll have a birthday where people remember it, and I get to do something fun.

He felt bad as soon as he thought it; it wasn't like every birthday he'd ever had, had been a bad one. Just, this one was kind of one of those milestone ones -- sixteen, finally -- and Sam thought someone would say something about it.

"Hey. Brainiac." Sam jumped at the quiet words right in his ear; he hadn't heard Dean come back in--which was weird, because while Dean could move quiet as a cat, he usually didn't, around Sam.

"God, give me a heart-attack, why don't you?"

"Always happy to oblige." There was a muted thunk beside him, and Sam looked at the lumpy package wrapped in Snoopy comics, then looked at Dean, eyebrow raised in a question. "It's a present. You open 'em."

Sam bit his lip to hide his smile, a surge of he remembered! rushing through him. "Thanks, I know what to do with them."

He pulled it toward him, fingers feeling clumsy all of a sudden. It took two tries to get the knot out of the string, and then his hands were shaking so hard it was hard to actually pull the paper open.

Inside was a beautiful, no, gorgeous knife. A Bowie knife, from the looks of it, and Sam picked it up reverently, feeling the heft and weight. It felt good in his hand. Really good.

"Turn it over," Dean said, his voice unusually soft.

Sam did, then ran his finger down the length. Etched into the blade, running from handle to tip, was a row sigils. He would have to look them all up later, but Sam knew sure as he was sitting there, that it was a protective charm, something to add weight to his aim and attack.

"Dean. I don't--" He turned toward Dean, body humming with happiness, with contentment. He shot a smile at his brother. "Thank you. It's perfect. I just. I--"

Dean stopped whatever Sam was trying to say with a soft brush of his mouth over Sam's. The next pass was slower, longer, and Sam shivered when Dean licked his mouth open, deepening the kiss.

"Happy birthday, Sammy," Dean whispered when he pulled away.

Sam followed for one more kiss, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist to hold him close. He breathed in Dean's scent -- leather, gun oil, metal, aftershave and musk -- and sighed.

This was the best birthday, ever.

~fin~