Wrapped in Honey 16/?
Chapter 16
It was essential for Dean to know about Sam's need to feed and by now he could tell how hungry Sam was from the tension around his eyes alone. If he didn't feed more regularly he would get wrinkles from that.
However, Dean appreciated the fact that Sam tried to keep their interactions to a bare minimum.
So Dean knew exactly how hungry Sam was right now and he was pretty sure that he wouldn't make it over the weekend without some rolling in the sheets. Not that Dean was complaining, quite the opposite, sex with Sam was awesome and if they had met under different circumstances they would be in a happy relationship by now, Dean was pretty sure about that. Under this circumstances, however, everything was just fucked up. Dean sighed inwardly.
It was kinda adorable how Sam tiptoed around the topic, though.
With the rest of the afternoon and the whole evening ahead with nothing else to do for both of them than to feel miserable and awkward, Dean took the initiative. At least in bed he knew what to do and what was expected from him. Ironically enough, that was save ground.
It did help that in bed the roles were reversed to what he would have expected in a situation like this, as if he'd ever expected a situation like this. The more selfish and focused on his own pleasure he was, the more Sam got out of their little sessions and Dean could go with some feel good time right now. Not that he would let Sam hanging, though, he wasn't that kind of asshole.
Dean brushed one more kiss on Sam's knuckles, smirking at the reaction he could coax out of the other man easy like this. Sam was really hungry, this was going to be a long night.
"Dean, we don't have to …"
Dean shut him up by sucking Sam's thumb in his mouth.
Surprised Sam gasped but didn't drew his hand back.
"Hmm?" He hummed around the pad of the thumb on his tongue, looking at Sam with an innocent upward glance. Lazily he swirled his tongue around the digit, making a show out of it when he noticed Sam's hooded eyes focused on his mouth.
After a moment he let go of the thumb but before Sam could complain about the loss Dean was kneeling on the couch, straddling Sam's lap. There faces were only inches apart and Dean felt the soft puffs of Sam's breath on his lips.
Without a second thought Dean buried his hands in Sam's thick hair and brought their mouths together.
Reluctantly at first Sam kissed him back but then it took him only a second to hungrily suck on Dean's tongue. Dean moaned into the heat of Sam's mouth and welcomed the taste of his saliva which went straight to his dick.
"Make me feel good." He murmured into Sam's mouth, not willing to break the kiss. "Make me forget." Dean just wanted to stop thinking, to stop worrying. For a few hours he just wanted to lay in Sam's arms and don't care about a thing in the world.
"I'll make it good." Sam promised, his roaming hands finally settling down on Dean's ass, kneading the muscles through the fabric of his jeans.
Dean had no doubt that Sam would make it good for him. Never before had he been with a partner who was so in tune with him, who knew exactly how to worship his body and which words to whisper to coax mind-blowing orgasms out of him.
Dean came the first time right there on the couch, sitting in Sam's lap, spilling his release over Sam's hand.
With Sam's other hand firmly pressed to his lower back Dean was in no danger of falling off when he arched his back in a toneless cry and then he slumped forward, head resting on Sam's shoulder.
"That was good." He mumbled.
"It's going to get better." Sam promised and Dean was too wrung out to complain when Sam carried him upstairs like an overgrown toddler with his limps dangling and his face buried in Sam's neck. Damn, Sam was a strong guy.
Dosed up with the Incubus' saliva Dean had the recovery time of a teenager on a hormone high so by the time they reached the bed he was up for round two.
They didn't leave the bedroom until the next morning and by then Sam walked funny but was too well fed to move much around anyway.
"We're good?" Sam asked over a much needed coffee for breakfast.
"We're good." Dean confirmed around a mouth full of pancakes. They had skipped dinner and had burned a lot of calories instead so Dean wolfed down his breakfast like a starving man.
They were both too full and exhausted to do much after breakfast and settled for a lazy day on the couch with a Star Wars marathon. You can never go wrong with that, Dean figured, his feet in Sam's lap who absently rubbed them with strong hands.
It could be worse, was Dean's last thought before he drifted off half an hour into the first movie.
On Monday Sam went back to work but came home early on Wednesday when the fence was installed. There was no real reason for him to be there, he was more in the way than anything else, at least telling from what Dean could see from his spot at the window. But Sam wasn't there to observe the workers, he knew that. Sam was there to keep an eye on Dean.
It would have been easy to get the attention of one of the workers, they were literally just right outside his window, and Sam couldn't risk that. Dean got that. And if he was honest, he would have tried. He had no idea what the man could even do to help him but he would have tried.
With Sam around he didn't even get the chance and somewhere deep in his mind he was glad about that. And that scared him more than anything else.
It took them two days to finish the fence, a solid concrete thing, ugly but fitting right in the rundown industrial neighborhood. Dean couldn't see the front but he'd bet on an equally solid gate there.
Sam didn't waste time. As soon as the fence was finished and the workers gone, he locked himself in his room to redo the spell.
"Okay." He came back out a while later. Dean stopped in his tracks, he hadn't been pacing the living room the whole time … he just needed to move around a little bit.
A wide grin on his face Sam came down the stairs and nodded towards the elevator.
"Give it a try."
Dean didn't have to be told twice.
"Thank you." He couldn't help the stupid feeling of gratitude tightening his chest when he stepped over the invisible barrier into the elevator.
"I told you, you'd get it back." Sam reminded him softly. Together they rode down to the basement where Dean had a curious look around.
It was almost like he'd left it. Sam had put back a few tools and had cleaned up after him but that was it. Even the piles of useful stuff he'd sorted earlier and had never thought he'd come back to were still like he'd left them. Plus all the stuff he didn't have the time to explore earlier.
Dean noticed all that but his first way, however, was straight for the front windows. From here he had been able to see all the way down the driveway to the road but now the new fence blocked the way. Like he'd guessed the gate was as solid as the rest of the fence, there was no way for him now to get the attention of one of the cars passing by.
"What do you think?" Sam asked after a moment and with a sigh Dean stepped back from the window.
"It could use some graffiti, it looks depressing." He turned just in time to see the flash of hurt on Sam's face. "Don't worry, the outside is probably already tagged." He tried to lift the mood and Sam rewarded him with a little smile.
Sam let him be for a while and Dean started to sort through the scrap metal while a picture of the finished car formed in his mind. The set Sam had bought was meant for a rather light car, the cheap engine not really built to carry more than a few ounces of plastic.
"Next time I ask him to look online." Dean muttered to himself. "There has to better quality stuff for model builders."
He paused, a piece of bent metal still in hand, and thought about what he'd just said. For one, he was already thinking about how to get a better result next time and second, why was he so certain that Sam would even buy him more stuff? He didn't have to buy him the first car. He didn't have to go out of his way with all this, the fence, the basement, just to please Dean.
Sam didn't have to bother with all this and could keep Dean locked up in his bedroom as the sex slave he basically was. Except that Dean didn't see himself as Sam's sex slave and he didn't get the feeling that Sam did.
"Did I mention that this is fucked up?" He muttered to nobody in particular.
Over the next few days the car started to take shape and Dean couldn't help but think back to that one car he'd built so many years ago. This one looked different, he'd made sure of that, but it still reminded him of the other one.
And wasn't it sad that Sam - an Incubus, a supernatural monster who kept Dean as some kind of convenient food supply - was more supporting and understanding than his own father?
Sam asked how the project was going, he came downstairs to bring him food and something to drink when Dean forgot the time and of course to have a look at the progress but he left Dean alone most of the time and let him work in peace.
Still well fed Sam tended to fall asleep easily and more than once Dean found him on the couch when he finally made his way upstairs late in the evening.
Watching the peacefully sleeping man Dean tried to figure out his feelings towards Sam. Complicated, was the closest description he could come up with. He wasn't good with feelings anyway.
Letting Sam sleep on the couch for a little while longer Dean went upstairs for a shower and then changed into his sleepwear. Only then he nudged Sam awake far enough to get him in bed and then slipped in next to him.
Dean didn't have nightmares over the last week or so and technically he could sleep in his own bed just fine but for some reason he slept better in Sam's. That bed was ridiculous big anyway. Did he use to have orgies in here or what?
Laying on his side Dean watched Sam who was already back to dreamland. Whatever Sam had used to do before Dean had stepped into his life, he'd stopped that completely. Except for that one trip to get some quick random sex Sam had only been out for work and stuff like the groceries. As far as Dean knew he hadn't seen any friends or had been out to party or whatever.
Neither had Dean so it seemed only fair but a little voice in the back of his mind begged to differ. Dean was cut off from life, that came with his situation and he'd accepted it. Sam on the other hand was free to do whatever he wanted. So why didn't he go out more often. Or at all?
With that thoughts circling in his mind Dean finally slipped into sleep.
Chapter 17
Masterpost