Wrapped in Honey 4/?
Chapter 4
Dean let himself float in the comfy afterglow of a really good orgasm before reality crashed back in.
He was so screwed. Or more exactly, he was about to get screwed.
At least the guy wasn't hard on the eyes and he had just given Dean the best handjob ever but that didn't change the fact that Dean hadn't chosen to have sex with him.
Judging by the hard line of the guy's cock he'd felt against his ass only minutes ago the man was big all over and bottoming wasn't really Dean's thing even when the cock in question didn't belong to Gigantor.
"I know you're awake."
Dean opened his eyes and looked over to the man who watched him from his place in the chair. This was getting old. Dean set up.
"Are we going to do the second round in an actual bed or are just you going to bend me over the couch?" He asked without looking at him.
"Neither." Sam answered. "I was thinking dinner. Are you hungry?"
"But …" That caught Dean by surprise. "You didn't get off."
"Dean." He let out a sigh and leaned forward. "This is not about getting me off. And I'm not going to just bend you over the couch." He threw his words back at Dean but in a gentle tone.
"I'm an Incubus, Dean. I feed on your sexual pleasure. The more you're into it, the more you enjoy it, the better I feed." He paused for a moment while Dean tried to wrap his mind around the new information. "Me getting off would be a bonus, nice but not necessary."
Dean thought about that. "So what, you jack me off once a month and that's it?"
"Not quite." Sam shook his head. "This was barely an appetizer. I'll need more soon. But that can wait a day or two. To get me fed for real I need a full sex session with you in pleasure for hours. Real pleasure, not only a bodily reaction to stimulation." He spread his hands in a helpless manner. "I won't force you, I wouldn't gain anything from that."
"But you can kiss me to get me in the mood." Dean let his disgust drip into the last words.
At least the guy looked guilty at that. Good.
"My saliva has an aphrodisiac effect, that's right." Sam admitted. "However, it doesn't take away your will, you can still say no."
"Yeah, right." Dean let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just not allowed to say no."
"Not in the long run, no. I don't want to bring you back to the Market …" Sam shifted in his seat as if he was uncomfortable with the way their conversation went. "But you can set the pace, you decide what we do. Look at me, Dean."
He waited for Dean to lock eyes with him.
"I'm an Incubus. I can fulfill your wildest dreams, your darkest desires. If you let me I can be the partner of your dreams."
"If you're such a sex god, why did you have to buy me?" Dean poked a hole into his sweet talk. "You shouldn't have a problem finding somebody to feed on. Try call boys."
For a second it looked like Sam wouldn't answer that one.
"It's always a risk. If somebody finds out I'm not human …" He didn't finish that sentence but Dean had no trouble picturing a mob with pitchforks and torches like in the old Dracula movies. Okay, nowadays they'd come with shotguns but he got the point.
"I knew about the Food Market and I thought I'd give it a try." Sam shrugged. "Being with me beats getting sucked dry by a vampire."
"Yeah." Dean had to admit he had a point there.
"Anyway." Sam stood up. "Dinner? And after that I'll show you your room."
He was going to get his own room?
Dean followed Sam over to the kitchen area.
"I didn't know what you like so I made something simple. You can't go wrong with pasta, right?"
Anything was better than what he'd gotten over the last few days at the Market and with his new found knowledge about that place Dean didn't want to think too closely about the meat they'd been served there.
They ate in almost comfortable silence.
"I'll show you around." Sam put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and then led the way upstairs to the gallery. There wasn't much to show. This was basically a loft so every room with a door and four walls came as a surprise.
"This is my room." Sam pointed at the door on the left but didn't open it. "And this is going to be yours."
He opened the door and let Dean go in first.
A simple room with a bed and a nightstand. White walls and an industrial window which took up almost an entire wall. The same kind of window he'd seen downstairs with the same boring view. More industrial buildings but none of them close enough for anybody to hear him shouting. If they were even still in use, from the distance it was hard to tell.
"The closet is over there." Sam pointed at the door. "I put some of my sweatpants and t-shirts for you in there. I'll get you your own stuff tomorrow."
You didn't know the size of the man you'd buy, Dean thought but bit back the comment.
"And here's your bathroom."
It was tiny without a window but it had everything a bathroom needed and it looked clean which was more than Dean was used to from the cheap motels he usually stayed at.
"A new razor and a toothbrush are in the cabinet with the towels. Just tell me what else you need and I'll get it for you. Anything, just tell me."
Dean nodded to that and they stepped back into the bedroom.
"The door has a key, you can lock it if you want." Sam gestured over to the bedroom door. "I won't come in without your permission but you may feel safer with the door locked."
Oh yeah, he would lock that door, that was for sure.
"Do you want to turn in or do you want to come back downstairs?" Sam asked already standing in the door. "We could watch some TV together."
"I'll stay here." Dean answered and set his jaw, waiting for Sam to order him to come with him.
"Okay. Night, then." Dean couldn't read his expression but Sam didn't say another word, he just shut the door and left him alone. A second later Dean had turned the key.
Dean sat on his bed for hours and watched the minutes ticking by on the alarm clock on the nightstand.
Considering the alternative this wasn't too bad but he was damned if he'd just sit around and play whore for this son of a bitch.
Around eleven he heard Sam coming upstairs and he held his breath in the dark but the footsteps never came close to his door.
He heard a door open and close and a bit later a toilet flushed and then everything went quiet.
Dean waited until two in the morning before he got up and unlocked his door.
The window in his room didn't open, it could only be tilted and there was no way that he'd fit through that gap but there had to be other ways out of the building.
He couldn't use the elevator but he was determined to at least try every possibility.
Dean tiptoed past Sam's room and down the stairs.
The moon was almost full and through the bank of windows came enough light for Dean to see without using the lights. However, these windows weren't meant to open and had only a tiltable part near the ceiling. The only way through them was by breaking them. Which would wake Sam and Dean still didn't know if he could even climb out with that stupid spell in place.
Only a week ago he'd have laughed about the idea of magic and supernatural creatures, now he didn't feel like laughing at all.
The elevator was the main way to get in and out but in the far corner Dean found the door to the stairs. He could open the door, no problem, but then he stood there and couldn't bring himself to step through.
He stood there for minutes, trying to force his body over that stupid threshold but it wouldn't obey.
Swearing under his breath he stepped back and shut the door.
"Okay, plan B."
Plan B was quickly replaced with plan C because there was no phone or computer in sight. Sam must have taken everything Dean could use to call out to somebody with him in his bedroom.
Dean stood in the kitchen and stared at the largest knife in the drawer.
Force that son of a bitch to let him go or kill him, that was the plan. Except that he couldn't bring himself to take the knife.
"This is stupid." He muttered.
A bowl with apples caught his eye and he wondered. Could he use a knife to cut those?
Turned out he could. He had no problem taking the knife as long as his intention was to cut an apple. As soon as he wanted to take it with him to confront Sam, he dropped it.
Leaning on the counter Dean fought against the tears burning in his eyes, this was not fair.
"You should go back to bed." Sam suddenly said behind him.
Dean's first impulse was to grab the knife but like before his body didn't cooperate.
Defeated Dean made his way upstairs without looking at Sam and locked the door behind himself.
He fell fully clothed on the bed and stayed like that until he finally drifted off to sleep.
Dean woke late the next morning and found Sam already up and about in the kitchen, reading the newspaper.
"Coffee?" Sam asked and didn't mention their encounter last night. "What do you like for breakfast?"
"Just coffee." Dean accepted the cup from him and for a moment they sat in silence.
"You said I could ask for anything." He said carefully, eyes fixed on the black brew in his cup.
"Sure, whatever you want." Sam agreed easily. "Except for your freedom, of course."
"Yeah, of course." Dean huffed to that. Now he looked up, catching Sam's eyes. "I want a phone call."
That wasn't what Sam had expected, that much was obvious, and Dean's lips twitched to that little victory.
"Who do you want to call?" He asked carefully but didn't refuse it right away.
"A friend of mine." Dean explained, gaining confidence with every second Sam was willing to listen to his request. "I was on my way to his place when …" He trailed off. "Anyway, I want him to know that I won't make it any time soon. And I'd like him to get my car, she's still where I left her."
Sam thought about that for a moment.
"Okay." He finally said.
"Seriously?" Dean had to ask. He hadn't thought that it would be this easy.
"Seriously." Sam repeated with a smile. "On speaker and you don't tell him about me, where you are or anything about how you got here."
"I don't even know where I am." Dean muttered. "But yeah, okay." The conditions hardly come as a surprise, he hadn't expected to get the call at all if he was honest so he took what he could get.
A minute later they sat close together, Sam's phone between them, and listened to the ringing.
"You can try again later." Sam offered when nobody picked up at the other end.
C'mon, old man, Dean thought but was about to hang up when finally a gruff voice answered.
"Singer's Salvage Yard."
Chapter 5
Masterpost