Wrapped in Honey 8/?
Chaper 8
Dean didn't know why he let Sam hug him, outside of their sex sessions they'd never shown any affection towards each other, and why he felt the sudden urge to kiss the other man, Dean had no idea either.
Then he just did it, placed a little kiss on Sam's lips.
Realizing what he'd done Dean shied back and wound himself out of the other man's arm.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled and fled to his room. Sam didn't call after him, didn't hold him back, probably equally shocked by the kiss.
Why had he done it? Dean paced up and down his room, trying to find an answer to that question.
It had felt right but now it felt wrong and Dean wasn't sure if he'd overstepped his boundaries here. If it had been a sexual kiss everything would be alright, his relationship with Sam was all about sex, but this was something different. However, so was the hug.
And why had he told Sam about the toy car? Okay, he'd left out how John had told him exactly what he thought of his son wasting time with a toy. With his fists. Or how John had thrown a crowbar in his direction afterwards with the snarled order "to take care of that thing".
Dean remembered the hot tears, from the beating and the burning shame, streaming down his face when he'd smashed the car with the crowbar while his dad had been watching from the porch with a beer in his hand.
Dean turned in early but it took long hours before his mind calmed down enough to let him drift off to sleep. The dark memories followed him into his dreams, though.
When Dean woke up the next morning he felt dried tears on his face and a deep ache in his body from the restless night. And he felt a warm body pressed against this back.
Jolting away from Sam Dean tried to get out of the bed but his legs were tangled up in the blanket, proof of his uneasy sleep, and he couldn't get away.
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked hoarsely, the last thing on his mind right now was sex but why else would Sam be in his bed?
Sam had promised, dammit.
"You were having a nightmare." Behind him Sam propped himself up on one elbow. "You were screaming and I couldn't wake you up but you calmed down when I spoke to you."
Dean had the suspicion that there had been a soothing touch involved somewhere too but he didn't want to think about that.
"Why did you stay?"
"You asked me to." Sam answered, still a solid wall behind him and now he felt a hand hovering over his shoulder. Reluctantly Sam touched him there, featherlight as if he wasn't sure if the comforting touch was welcomed or not. Dean wasn't sure about that either but he didn't shrug him off.
"I did?" Bits and pieces came back to him. Yeah, he probably did.
"You want to talk about it?" Sam asked softly.
"No." Dean tensed and waited for Sam to push the subject, to probe and prod until he'd gotten the whole ugly truth out of him. Instead Sam just watched him for a long moment.
"Take a shower, you stink." Sam teased him kindly and Dean was grateful for the change of subject. The hand left his shoulder and Sam rolled out of bed. "I'll make coffee."
This breakfast was worse than the one after their first night together.
Sam had seen how damaged Dean was and even if he didn't ask, he for sure had his suspicions.
And there was the kiss. Dean still hadn't figured out what it meant, if anything, but he didn't mention it and neither did Sam.
Dean breathed easier when Sam left for work.
When his eyes fell on the toy car sitting in the corner he was close to throwing it in the trash but in the end he just put it back in his room. It joined the other two in the depth of his closet and when he closed the door he'd no intention to open it ever again.
For the first time Sam was late this day, he should have been home about an hour ago, and by now Dean was pacing the hall of a living room. What if something had happened to Sam? A car crash or something?
Dean had no way to contact him and now he realized that he could probably die here if something happened to Sam. With that stupid spell in place he couldn't leave and eventually he would run out of food. Hell, he couldn't even kill himself so he would be doomed to slowly starve to death if Sam didn't come back.
"He said he wanted to buy paint." Dean tried to calm himself. "That's what's taking him so long."
Why Sam wanted to buy him paint was beyond Dean, it was for a stupid toy car for Christ's sake. And even if he'd meant it when he'd said it yesterday, after what happened later Dean wasn't sure if Sam still wanted to be nice to him. Maybe he just wanted to avoid him for as long as possible. But this was Sam's home, he would come back eventually, right?
Not if something had happened to him. Or someone.
Dean blinked against the images forming in his mind. This was Sam and not … he was alright.
In the end Dean was pacing the room like a caged tiger with the TV blaring on high volume. It helped to overlay the screams in his head.
It overlaid the sound of the elevator too. Pacing Dean didn't notice Sam at first but stopped dead in his tracks when he made a turn. Sam stood there, a bag dangling from his hand and an unreadable expression on his face.
Dean hurried to switch off the TV. The sudden silence was deafening.
"I … ehm …" Dean rubbed the back of his head. "You're late. Dinner is cold by now."
"I bought you some paint for your car." Sam lifted the bag. "And then I got caught in the rush hour."
For a long moment they just stood there, awkwardly looking everywhere but each other.
What must Sam think of him now? Dean had been freaking out and he was pretty sure Sam had noticed. Hard to not notice that part.
"I'll microwave your dinner." Dean blurted the words out and rushed over to the kitchen. He wasn't hungry anymore but for sure Sam was. Sam followed him more slowly and then just watched him.
"I'm sorry." Sam said when the plate was in the microwave and all they could do was to wait for the ping. "I didn't mean to worry you."
"You didn't." Came Dean's automatic reply, a blatant lie, but Sam didn't call him out on it. Instead he stepped closer and embraced Dean in a tight hug. Surprised and not sure what to do Dean just stood there for a moment and let it happen but then he returned the gesture, clinging tightly to Sam.
"I'm here." Sam said in a low voice. "I'm not going anywhere."
Those words shouldn't be so calming, so comforting, Sam was the one keeping him prisoner after all, but it was exactly what Dean needed to hear.
Not letting go of him Sam walked them over to the couch where he guided Dean to sit down.
"What are you doing?" Dean looked down at Sam who was now kneeling between his open legs.
Sam didn't answer, just kept his hands busy stroking up and down Dean's arms and shoulders. It felt good, he had to admit. The tension melted out of his body and he dared to breathe again.
Sam was here, safe and sound.
The hands changed path, now gently stroking is sides and over his chest. Dean wasn't sure where this was leading, or where he wanted this to lead, but he felt his cock twitching with interest.
Dean shifted, his growing erection was literally right in Sam's face, a fact that didn't help him getting his body back under control. Quite the opposite.
Sam seemed to have noticed but didn't comment on it. Instead he let his hands wander farther down, over Dean's hips and the outside of his thighs.
Unconsciously Dean's legs fell more open, giving Sam more room.
"Tell me to stop." Sam said, this thumbs painting little circles on the insides of Dean's knees.
"Don't stop."
That was all the encouragement Sam needed. His thumbs worked their way in those small circles up the inner side of Dean's legs until they dipped in the crease of his groin.
By now the bulge behind the zipper was quite obvious and when Sam mouthed him through the fabric of his jeans, a needy moan escaped Dean's lips.
Sam took his time and pleasured him through the denim until it was soaking with saliva and precome.
"Please." Dean begged, eyes closed and head rolling on the back of the couch. His hands had found their way into Sam's hair, pulling him closer.
Finally Sam came up long enough to open the zipper and to get Dean's cock out. Dean nearly came right then but Sam had a firm grip around the base and just hold him until he'd calmed down a bit.
"You're killing me here." Dean gritted out when he felt the first swipe of Sam's tongue over the tip of his cock. This wasn't like they'd done it before. This time Sam took his sweet time with little licks and kisses, exploring every inch of the shaft.
When Dean felt the heat pooling deep in his belly, the building orgasm sending the first sparks up his nerves, Sam abandoned this cock and went to work on his balls.
Dean whimpered in frustration but could only claw fruitlessly at Sam's scalp while the other man held him pinned down in an iron grip and did whatever he wanted.
Apparently he wanted to suck Dean's balls now. He took one testicle in his mouth, wet and hot, and sucked and nibbled until Dean was a begging mess. Then he turned his attention to the other one.
"Sam, please … I need … please …" Dean babbled, he needed to come. Now.
When he felt the heat of Sam's mouth on his erection once again, Dean cried in relief. Slowly, inch by inch, Sam sank down on him. Farther and farther and then he just stopped.
Dean's eyes snapped open when he realized that Sam had swallowed him whole again. He looked down in awe.
Those shiny wet lips stretched impossible wide around the base of his cock and Sam's upward gaze through his bangs with those big dozy eyes, at that sight Dean was done.
Like the other time Sam held him deep in his throat and milked him with the muscles while he swallowed every last drop of his come. Only then he let go of the spent cock with a wet plop.
In the afterglow Dean sat there sprawled out bonelessly and was content with just staying there for a while. But then he noticed something.
"I don't feel tired." He cracked an eye open to look at Sam who'd come up to sit next to him. He did feel tired like he should after a good orgasm but not as beat as after their previous times.
"I didn't feed on you."
"Why not?" This must have been like free ice cream. Why wouldn't he?
"This was about what you need." Sam shrugged.
"And I needed a blowjob?" He raised a questioning eyebrow to that.
"I'm an Incubus." Now Sam grinned at him. "Sex is my solution to everything."
"What if that doesn't work?"
"Try more sex."
Chapter 9
Masterpost