Wrapped in Honey 9/?
Chapter 9
Sam needed time to think. This wasn't like he'd expected. He had been naive when he'd thought he could just buy himself a person and everything would be okay.
Dean came with baggage, that much had been clear almost from the beginning but after his panic attack when Sam had been late, it was more obvious than ever.
However, Dean had a point. What would happen if for some reason Sam couldn't come back for him?
The next few days Sam thought about ways to make Dean's life less stressful. First of all he made sure that he was home at the time he'd said he would be. Ellen, his boss, wasn't a fan of spontaneous overtime herself so most of the time he knew a day or two in advance when he'd have to stay longer. He talked to Ellen about that, though, and she didn't even asked for a reason, she just promised to keep it in mind and he knew she would and he loved her for that.
Things would be way easier if he just could give Dean a phone but he couldn't think of a way to prevent him from calling out for help. So Sam just made sure that he was home on time and hoped for the best.
"It's finished." Dean greeted him one evening with a big smile and the finished car in hand. Sam almost didn't recognize it. If it had been clearly a toy car the other day, now it was almost a model car.
"It looks great." Carefully Sam took it and had a closer look.
"It's a '67 Chevy Impala." Dean informed him with pride in his voice. "Just like my baby."
Sam felt the sting of guilt. If it wouldn't be for Sam, Dean would be out there, driving the real thing instead of building a model of it out of a box and paper mache. Except that Sam couldn't tell anymore that there was paper mache under the shiny black paint. Dean must have spent hours sandpapering it before he'd painted it.
Not that he has much else to do, Sam thought bitterly.
"Show me."
Dean didn't have to be told twice. A second later the car was running down the hall.
"I optimized the engine." Dean commented when the car easily passed the mark where it had stopped the last time. "But there's only that much you can do with rubber bands and a car this size and weight."
Sam nodded to that and just accepted that Dean knew what he was talking about. But it gave him hope that Dean would like the little surprise he'd planned. But first things first.
"I've thought about the other day." Sam started when they sat together over dinner. "When I was late and you didn't know what to do." When you freaked out would have been the more accurate description and they both knew it. Dean was suddenly very interested in his lasagna.
"I've a friend. Benny." Sam continued. "He's a vampire."
At that Dean's fork clattered on the plate and he stared at Sam with wide eyes.
"Please, don't." He begged. "I know I screwed up. It won't happen again. I promise. Just don't do that. Please." There was fear in his eyes.
Sam blinked at him in confusion and it took him an awful long moment until he realized how his words must sound to Dean.
"No!" Sam grabbed Dean's hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "That's not what I mean. I'm not giving you to a vampire."
"You're not?" Dean sounded anything but convinced. How could he so easily think that Sam would just hand him over to a vampire?
"Like I said, he's a friend. Actually, I think you'd like him." Sam continued, still holding Dean's hand. "If something happens to me, I get hit by a car or can't come home for any other reason, he will come here and tell you what's going on. You have enough food here to last a few days and he'll bring you whatever you need until I can come back."
Dean still didn't look convinced. "And he … wouldn't he …?" He gestured towards his neck.
"No, he wouldn't feed on you." Sam hurried to say. "We have rules. You're mine. Everybody in our community respects that."
Dean thought about that for a moment. "What if you die?"
"You'd be free." Sam said. "The kind of magic I used for the spell dies with the caster. If I die, it wears off within hours."
"And I could just walk out of here?" Dean asked in disbelief. "What about your community? They surely don't want me to just wander off."
"No, they don't." Sam confirmed. "But Benny is going to claim you. He'll help you out of the city." That part hadn't been easy, it meant a huge risk for Benny, but he didn't want Dean to get killed over this. Not that Sam expected to die any time soon.
"I just have to hope you die, then." Dean muttered, pushing pieces of meat around his plate.
"Looks like." Sam leaned forward and looked Dean in the eye. "The reason I'm telling you this is that I want you to know that you're safe. Whatever happens to me you're not going to sit here, slowly starving to death, wondering if I ever come back or not."
"Thank you." Relief washed over Dean's face and Sam knew he'd just taken off a burden from Dean's shoulder he'd been carrying around since his panic attack, maybe longer.
"Are you done?" Sam gestured at Dean's half-eaten lasagna.
"Yeah." He looked at the cold and butchered leftovers as if he'd just noticed that he'd been attacking them with his fork for a while now. He pushed the plate away.
Sam stood up to clear the table.
"I've a surprise for you."
"Not a big fan of surprises." Dean muttered without looking at him.
"You'll like this one." Sam promised. He scrapped the plates clean and put them in the dish washer.
"Last night I redid the spell." With a big grin he turned back to Dean who still hadn't moved from the table.
"What do you mean?" Dean eyed him sceptically.
"Wanna see the rest if the building? You still can't go outside." Sam hurried to add the last part, he didn't want to give Dean false hope, that would have been cruel.
And what you're doing isn't? A mean little voice in his mind asked but Sam chose to ignore it.
"But you can leave this floor." Sam finished his statement.
"That's your big surprise?" Dean didn't seem impressed.
"This has been a factory for furniture before I bought it. I stored everything in the basement but I never came around to actually clean it out. It's all still there collecting dust. Machines, tools, scrap metal." Sam shrugged but didn't miss the interested glint in Dean's eyes. "Thought you might want to have a look around."
Turned out Dean did want to have a look around. He was out of his chair and at the elevator in a heartbeat.
Sam pretended to not notice the emotions flashing over Dean's face when he crossed the invisible line that had held him prisoner for so long now and stepped in the elevator.
Sam didn't fool himself, the line wasn't gone, the cage was only a little bigger now, he had no reason to feel so damn generous right now but he couldn't help the pleased smile forming on his lips.
Out of the lower floor, it wasn't really a basement even if Sam had dubbed it that way, Sam had only taken over the garage and a small storage room as his laundry room where he also stored everything he didn't want to have permanently in his apartment.
That left more than three quarters of the floor unused and stuffed with things Sam had no use for. But maybe Dean had.
"This is awesome." Dean was like a kid in a candy store. Less than five minutes down here and he was covered in dust and sweat and almost got stuck once when he tried to squeeze behind a machine-part-thingy. Sam had no idea how someone could get all enthusiastic over old stuff like this, however, this was the happiest he'd seen Dean so far so he was the last to complain.
The tour ended in the only not packed to the ceiling room, the former janitor's workshop, the one Sam had raided to get Dean his tools for his various little maintenance jobs around the loft.
Dean braced himself at the workbench with his back to Sam.
"Why are you showing me all this?" Dean asked in a tight voice. Sam couldn't see his face but he saw the tense shoulders.
"All this stuff is just lying around." Sam said with a little shrug. "I wanted to clean it all out years ago but never came around to do it. Now I'm glad I didn't."
He stepped closer and laid a hand between Dean's shoulder blades. The muscles under his hand tensed up for a second but then relaxed noticeable.
"It's yours if you want it." Sam said softly. "Tinker with the machines, built something out of it."
"So you're letting me play with your trash?" Dean turned his head to give him an amused glance.
"I saw what you did with an old box, toilet paper and egg white." Sam reminded him. The way Dean was looking at him he'd done the right thing. "Can't wait to see what you'll make out of this."
"Oh, I have a few ideas." Dean turned around fully and only then Sam realized how close they stood. Dean was practically wedged between him and the workbench.
He should back off, give the other man some room, Sam knew that but didn't move. Dean didn't push him back either and for a long moment they just stared at each other.
Then Dean closed his eyes and leaned in until their lips met.
Stunned Sam just let it happen. Dean's lips on his, the tongue darting forward, tracing the outline of Sam's lips. After a second of hesitation Sam kissed him back. They both knew what his saliva would do to Dean but Dean didn't seem to care so neither did Sam.
Sure enough the kiss turned needy on Dean's part after a few seconds, his hand tangled in Sam's hair and the other one roaming his back, bringing them closer together. Following Dean's lead, Sam let his hands wander and wiggled a leg between Dean's for some delicate friction on their growing erections.
"Dean." Sam broke the kiss long enough to breathe out the words. "We don't have to do this."
"Get your hand on my dick." Dean commanded and smashed their mouths together once again. It was a little struggle to get their cocks out but soon enough Sam wrapped his hand around both of them.
It was fast and dirty and good.
Dean arched his hips, thrusting into the tight tunnel of Sam's fingers and spilled his release. The sudden slick eased the way and now their cocks slid easily against each other and it took Sam only a few more quick strokes and he followed Dean.
Panting they stood there for a long moment, Dean braced backwards on the workbench and Sam leaning heavily on him, hand still loosely wrapped around their softening cocks.
Sam hadn't planned on feeding this soon again but he soaked up what Dean offered. And it was nice to feed without hunger roaring in the back of his mind, he had to admit.
They parted and tucked themselves back in without saying a word and Sam wasn't sure if this was an awkward silence or not.
"Thank you." Dean said and gave him a little peck on the corner of his mouth. Without another word he walked out of the room.
Suddenly Sam felt sick.
Chapter 10
Masterpost