Wrapped in Honey 10/?
Chapter 10
Dean could tell that Sam had fed this time because he barely made it to the couch before he collapsed. He didn't lose consciousness like the previous times Sam had fed off him in those full on sex sessions they had but he felt drained and drifted somewhere on the brink of sleeping.
Here in this numbness of his mind Dean could think about his situation in an objective, emotionless way. Sam could bring him back to the Food Market whenever he got bored of his damaged sex toy. Or he could hand him down to his vampire friend. Hell, he even could just kill Dean if he wanted to.
And Dean with his nightmares and freak outs wasn't helping his situation, he knew that. So it was probably a good idea to compensate that by being nicer to Sam. He'd initiated what had happened in the basement on a whim but the way Sam had responded to that had encouraged Dean. He'd done it as a thank you, as a way to prove that he could give what Sam needed. To make himself useful enough to be kept.
However, in his current state of mind, just letting the thoughts drift by, he could admit to himself that there was more. He'd started to feel something for Sam. And that scared him. He needed to get out of here before it could grow into something.
Sam had followed him upstairs but didn't approach him. Dean didn't open his eyes but through his sleepy brain he heard Sam clatter in the kitchen. Minutes later the rich aroma of coffee reached Dean's nose.
"Espresso?" Sam asked softly and set two little cups on the table. Dean blinked his eyes open just in time to see him awkwardly fiddling with the cups and the sugar and he even had piece of dark chocolate for each of them ready.
Dean came up to a sitting position and he had to admit that some caffeine was exactly what he needed now.
They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their espressos, but Dean could clearly tell that Sam was searching for the right words to say something.
"About earlier." He finally spoke and of course Dean knew exactly what he was referring to. "Why did you do that?"
"Does it matter?" Dean shrugged.
"It does." Sam set the cup aside, in his hand it looked like a little girl's tea-cup and Dean hurried to look somewhere else, he really shouldn't marvel at Sam's long fingers. "I don't want you to feel obliged to do something like that."
Dean let out a humorless laugh. "I am obliged."
"Yeah, you are." Sam raked a hand though his hair, clearly at a loss how to express what he wanted to say. "But you don't have to thank me like that whenever I do something nice to you."
"You liked it."
"I did." Sam didn't look him in the eye. "And I like you. I don't want to reduce you to a mindless sex toy." He sighed. "I know our situation is screwed up …"
"Understatement."
"... but I want you to know that I want you to be as happy as possible. I gave you the basement because I thought you'd like it not because I hoped to get an appetizer out of it."
Dean nodded to that but it didn't change the decision he'd come to earlier. No matter how nice Sam was to him, he was still holding Dean's life in his hands. If somebody's happiness was important here, it wasn't Dean's.
"I don't want you to be afraid of me."
"I'm not." It was the truth, he wasn't afraid of Sam per se. He was afraid of what would happen if Sam got bored of him some day. And he was worried about his feelings toward Sam.
Sam didn't seem convinced but he dropped the topic and turned on the TV instead. More to escape the awkward silence than anything else, Dean guessed, but it worked.
Dean didn't actually care what they were watching but after a while the silence between them became more comfortable and in the end they laughed and commented on the stupidness of the show together.
Dean went to bed in a good mood and slept without bad dreams till morning. After Sam had left for work, he went downstairs to have a real look around.
It still felt awesome to just leave the upper floor.
The door of the garage was at the side and he couldn't get through, he'd expected that much. Next he tried the windows. This ones could be opened and were only inches above the ground.
He still couldn't climb out, though. Dean could see the street at the end of the driveway and from time to time even a car passing by. This wasn't a neighborhood were he'd expect people walking by so shouting probably wouldn't get him anywhere. He still tried.
However, nobody heard him. No car stopped or even slowed down.
Frustrated Dean closed the window.
There had to be another way. His eyes fell on the garage door again and he wondered if he could drive out of here. He could hot-wire Sam's car during the night and would be gone before Sam even woke up.
"Yeah." He muttered to himself. "And what if the car can get through but I can't?" The images in his head were disturbing enough to drop the idea immediately.
Dean wandered around the rooms, poking at stuff here, opening a box there, and let his mind just drift.
Even if he couldn't get out, the car could.
In one box he found a collection of old drills. A rubber band car could only go so far but with a decent motor …
An idea formed in Dean's mind.
The upcoming weekend put his plan on hold for a while. He couldn't work on his little project with Sam around, but he could sort through the old stuff. There was a lot of broken junk but he kept most of the tools and the scrap metal.
Why, he'd no idea. If his plan worked he would get out soon and if not he doubted, he would be allowed to go to the basement ever again. Which would be the best case scenario. He refused to think about the worst case. Either way, he would never use any of this stuff but he still sorted it in piles so he could find whatever he'd need later.
Over the weekend Dean tried to act normal while his mind worked on his idea. At least he had a good excuse and could disappear to the basement for hours.
They spent the evenings together with beer and a movie from Sam's collection. There were still quite some left Dean hadn't seen.
Sam was still fed enough that a quick handjob would make him slow and lazy for a day or two, by now Dean had figured out the mechanics behind Sam's need, however, the one time Dean tried to kiss him, Sam rejected him.
Dean wasn't sure what to make out of that, caught between feeling relieved and hurt, but the mood between them stayed light-hearted so he just accepted it.
When Sam left for work on Monday morning, Dean waited impatiently for half an hour, just to make sure Sam wouldn't come back because he'd forgotten something, before he sneaked into the other man's bedroom.
The sex toys were still in the chest at the end of Sam's bed but Dean couldn't tell if they'd been in use since the last time he'd opened the chest or not.
He took one vibrator from the bottom and could only hope that it wasn't Sam's favorite. He would be screwed if Sam noticed the missing toy before he was ready.
Humming the A-team theme Dean stepped in the elevator.
The plan was simple. He couldn't get out but a car could. He just needed something powerful enough to reach the road.
The battery part of the vibrator became the power source for the drill which would be the motor of the car. The thing didn't need to win a beauty contest and Dean had it functional before Sam came home from work.
Over dinner Dean tried to look interested in the story Sam told about his day at work, apparently Ellen had put a customer in his place with some colorful words, and the story would have been funny if Dean hadn't other things on his mind.
He claimed to be exhausted from the work in the basement and turned in early. But he couldn't sleep. He waited for Sam to go to bed and then he hold his breath. Would he notice the missing vibrator? And if so, would he demand to know where it was right now or would he let it slide?
Sam didn't come over and he didn't say a word about missing sex toys in the morning.
Dean finally dared to breathe again when Sam left for work.
Before he did the real thing, Dean wanted to give his little car a test drive indoors. It was basically a board with wheels, the electronics screwed to it and two sticks on top, holding up a paper sign with the words "Call 911, I've been kidnapped!" written on it.
Dean had tied a cord to the rear end so he could stop the car and if necessary pull it back.
The test drive in the living room went well and there was no reason to wait any longer.
Back in the basement Dean opened the window with the straightest view down the driveway. He couldn't reach through the window but he could use a board as a ramp to get the car outside.
"Here goes nothing." Dean turned the battery on and let the car go.
The car covered the first few yards with ease and Dean's heart jumped in his chest. He would get out.
He never figured out what went wrong, if it was a wind gust or the unevenness of the driveway, but suddenly the car tipped and drove on two wheels for a moment.
Dean could only watch in horror, praying it would recover, but in the end it overbalanced and landed on its side.
"Dammit!"
Carefully Dean pulled the cord, this was one reason he'd attached it in the first place, and dragged the car back. It moved a few inches but then stopped.
"You have to be kidding me."
Dean pulled harder. The car didn't move. He couldn't make out what was holding it back, most likely an uneven crack in the pavement, and except for pulling the cord he had no way to get it free. There lay more than enough junk around in the basement but nothing long enough to reach the car.
"C'mon." Dean muttered and gave it a hearty tug. With a soft pop the cord came free, leaving the car behind. "Fuck!"
Dean stared at the loose end of the cord in numb defeat. Hot tears burned in his eyes, this was not fair.
Dean didn't move for several minutes while the upper wheel of the car was still spinning uselessly in the air.
When the initial shock finally wore off, Dean spent the next few hours searching for a way to get the car back inside.
First he tried to rope it with the cord. But he couldn't reach through the window and couldn't throw it properly.
Then he nailed battens and old broomsticks together to make a pole long enough to reach the car.
The first one broke, leaving even more evidence in the driveway, and the second one slipped out of his fingers when he leaned into the invisible wall to push it just an inch farther.
By now there were two improvised poles and his car lying in the driveway and Dean had to admit that there was now way he would get any of it back inside.
In defeat Dean closed the window, cutting off the persistent buzzing of the still running car, and dragged himself to the elevator. He had one chance and he'd screwed it up.
The only thing he could do now, was to wait for Sam.
Take it like a man, his father's voice echoed in his mind. He knew exactly what that man would do in Sam's place.
Chapter 11
Masterpost