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Nothing Better To Do	By : unrequited666 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2945 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Warnings: slash, dark, violence, thoughts of suicide, self-harm
� Don�t like? Don�t read! No flamers!

SNSNSNSNSNSNS

Chapter Five

�You want me to come in there with you? I could help wash your back�
and all the hard to reach places.�

�Could you be any more clich� you pervert?�

Don smiled, leaning against the wall as he waited patiently for the
boy to finish his shower. He had a big surprise planned. One that he was sure
Sam would appreciate.

�You going to be in there much longer?�

In answer, Sam slid open the shower stall door and scowled at him,
disappointing Don by appearing in a shower robe.

�Why the robe? I�m
sure you�re very well endowed,� Don
dropped his gaze to rest on the boy�s groin region.

Sam turned beet red, wisely choosing to ignore Don�s comment as he
reached for a towel and began drying his hair with it.

�Here, let me.� Without letting Sam answer, Don pulled the towel
from Sam�s hands, draping it around his neck and began briskly drying his hair,
rubbing the wild tangles free of water.
�
�I can do it myself,� Sam glowered, trying to reclaim the towel.

Don batted Sam�s hands away. �I know, but I want to do it for you.�

Sam said nothing, remaining perfectly still and silent even as Don
took the opportunity to step even closer to him, trailing soft kisses along the
supple white skin of Sam�s neck.

�You�re so tense,� Don commented. �You need to relax more. I can
help you there.�

He grinned when he saw Sam�s deer in the headlights expression
through the mirror, but before Sam could slip away, Don reached through the top
of Sam�s bathrobe, sliding his hands over Sam�s shoulders. His hands glided
over the skin in slow, deep movements, watching with glee as the boy�s eyes
slowly drifted close as he relaxed under his expert hands.

�You like this don�t you?� Don smirked as he lowered his voice and
spoke directly into Sam�s ear. �And there can be so much more, if you just let
it.�

Abruptly, Don moved away from Sam, but not before he caught Sam�s
eyes snapping open in confusion. Laughing to himself, he exited the bathroom,
calling over his shoulder �Dinner�s ready when you are!�

Don 2, Sam 1.

***
�
�You ready to go?� Don asked, rapping on the bathroom door ten
minutes later.

�Are you?� Sam called back. �Because you can go
without me.�

�Haha, very funny,� Don deadpanned before
sitting back down at the table.

It was another five minutes before Sam emerged,
taking his seat at the table and bringing (unfortunately, in Don�s opinion) the
damn dog with him.

�What the hell is this?� Sam asked, eyeing the table set with food,
flowers and candles.

�I thought we�d have a nice, quiet evening together,� Don replied,
gesturing that Sam should help himself.

Sam grabbed himself a plateful of meat and pastries before giving
into Dean�s pleading eyes and slipping him a chicken drumstick.

�Do dogs eat chicken?� Don asked with one eyebrow raised.

�How should I know? I never had a dog before.�

The next few minutes passed in silence as Sam ate pastry after
pastry (that boy sure had a big appetite, although Don was pretty sure that
wasn�t the only big thing the boy possessed). Don however touched nothing,
keeping his eyes constantly on Sam. He could tell that the intensity of the
gaze made the boy feel like a tasty morsel Don would be only too happy to
devour. Don almost smiled when Sam began fidgeting uncomfortably, self-conscious
of the unwavering attention.

And sure enough, as Don predicted, Sam was the one to break the
silence. �What?� he snapped.

�You�re just so beautiful,� Don said, propping his chin up in the
palm of his hand with his elbow braced on the table.

�And you�re just so ugly.�
�
Don forced himself to smile as he leaned across the table and
grabbed Sam�s hand, brushing it with his lips. One day soon, the only sounds
Don would hear from Sam�s mouth would be his moans and gasps of pleasure; and
none of this rudeness.

Sam yanked his hand away.�

Don�s smile never faltered, grining so hard his jaw hurt. It was time to steer the
conversation to his advantage. �Know how to play chess?� He slid his foot up
the inside of Sam�s thigh, pretending not to notice when Sam gave a look of
surprise at the rapid change in the direction of their discussion, or how his
grip on his knife and fork tightened. �It�s a game of strategy, trying to trap the other player, out think them, overpower them.
And while the game itself is fun, the best part is when you eventually get
their king right where you want him.�

Don couldn�t keep the smirk off his face as he slid his foot between
Sam�s legs, rubbing Sam�s cock through his jeans and causing Sam to hiss and
shift his hips.

�Something wrong?�
Don asked innocently.

�Oh no,� Sam answered just as innocently, �dickwad.�

On hearing the word, the drumstick lay forgotten as Dean immediately
began biting and gnarling, charging towards Don. With a yelp, Don jumped onto
his chair to avoid the little fur ball.

�Call the damn thing off!� Don snarled, desperately dodging the
jumping puppy so determined to sink its not so blunt teeth into him.

With a big dimpled smile on his face, Sam called out �It�s okay Dean. Ignore him. He can�t help being a jackass.�

Only once Dean had returned to its master�s side did Don feel safe
enough to sit back down again.

Don 2, Sam 2.

His pride bruised and face burning with embarrassment, Don knew he
could not afford to let himself get bogged down by this and let Sam believe
that he had won. He needed to get back control of the game.

Don reached across the table, taking Sam�s hand in his own. �I care
about you. Why can�t you let me take care of you?�

�I can take care of myself,� Sam insisted.

�You�re not doing a very good job from where I�m standing. From what
I can tell, you travel the country hustling pool and starting bar fights.�

�And it�s an admirable profession,�
Sam sassed.

�What happened to you?� Don asked gently. �What made you the way you
are now? I can�t believe you started out this way.�

He watched on tenterhooks as Sam seemed to consider the question
carefully.

�I guess, because I learned the truth,� Sam finally said softly,
keeping his gaze firmly on his plate and hiding his eyes beneath his shaggy
hair.

�What truth?�

�That my parents weren�t really my parents.�

�Are you telling me that your� attitude is because you�re adopted?�

�No! My parents aren�t my parents because I wasn�t born. I was created. Genetically engineered� I�m a sex slave. Designed to bring
pleasure to anyone I came across.� Sam looked up from his plate, breaking out
into peals of laughter once he saw Don�s furious expression.

Don 2, Sam 3.

I am calm. I am calm. I am
calm, Don kept repeating to himself as he took deep
breaths and tried to recall every anger management techniques he had been
taught.

�I heard that one off TV,� Sam said, interrupting Don in the middle
of his silent count to thirty. When Don made no answer, he continued snidely
�Oh come on, can�t you take a joke?�

Finally calm enough to answer, Don spoke �I
thought you were actually going to say something real, something sincere. And I
was excited because I thought that once you told me your problem, I would be
able to help you. Stupid of me, huh?�

But unfortunately, Sam seemed to be immune to the guilt card.

�I don�t want your help, and I don�t need it,� he scoffed, mopping
his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his shirt.

Don let out a long suffering sigh and changed the subject. �You
know, it wouldn�t kill you to wear short sleeves. I mean, I like how you dress
so modestly. It leaves plenty to the imagination. But seriously, aren�t you
hot?�

�Yeah, I am pretty good looking even if I do say so myself,� Sam
shot back, ignoring Don�s lewd comment as he tugged at the sleeve of his
striped shirt and pulled it down even further over his hand.

Don rolled his eyes. �You�re gonna get
sick,� he warned.

�I seriously doubt that,� Sam remarked, abruptly getting up from his
seat and moving towards the bed. �I�m tired. You can go now.�

With a slight �tsk� of irritation, Don
approached Sam, grabbing a handful of his shirt and tugging at it, only
intending to turn Sam around to face him. However, the
gentle tug caused the shirt to rip open, buttons flying across the room.

Don�s jaw dropped as the scars Sam had been
hiding under his shirt came into the light, swearing softly under his breath
when he realised that there were more scars than the ones on his back, scars so
surgically precise that they had to have been cut into the skin by Sam himself.
Sam immediately turned his back on Don, but not before Don caught side of the clearly visible mark trailing up the inside of Sam�s wrist.

�Sam?�

Sam didn�t answer, instead moving to open the drawer under his bed
with such force that it fell off its rollers, clothes spewing all over the
floor.

�Sam, you don�t have to be ashamed of your scars,� Don said
helplessly, feeling ill equipped to deal with this turn of events and not sure
what else he could say. He still couldn�t quite wrap his mind around the fact
that Sam had resorted to cutting to release his pain, that
he had even tried to kill himself. That something had happened to him that hurt
him so bad he didn't want to live anymore. But perhaps the worst part of it all
was that Sam had clearly tried more than once to end his life.

�I would have to care about and want your good opinion for me to be
ashamed. Well I don�t. And frankly, it�s presumptuous for you to assume that,�
Sam retorted heatedly as he found another shirt and tugged it haphazardly over
himself.

�Then why are you wearing long sleeves if you�re not ashamed?�

�Occasionally, people do wear long sleeved clothes for reasons other
than hiding disfigurements, Like, jeez, I dunno, maybe I�m cold? Did you ever think of that dickwad?�

Luckily, Don was well prepared this time. As the barking dog began
racing towards him, Don ran for the open bathroom, jumping aside at the last
minute. Unprepared for the sudden and unexpected change in direction, Dean�s
momentum carried him all the way through into the bathroom and Don slammed the
door shut, effectively trapping Dean inside.

Sam narrowed his eyes at the perceived injustice done to his pet.
But before he could even attempt to rescue it from its captivity, Don placed
himself in front of him and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him from moving.

�You hurt yourself. Deliberately. Why?�

�I didn�t,� Sam denied, �I just slipped in the kitchen.�

�Those cuts are even and deep. And you�re telling me you got them by
slipping in the kitchen?� Don asked disbelievingly.

�It was a very sharp knife.�

�You�re in denial.�

�Nope, not in Egypt.�

�No, of course you�re not in denial. You�re just very selective in
the reality you choose to accept, right?� Don shot back sarcastically.

A flash of emotion flittering across Sam�s face was Don�s only
warning before he was brutally shoved, falling backwards and landing painfully
on his behind. Sam sneered elegantly at the undignified sight, making no move
to help as Don picked himself up from the floor. He was therefore unprepared
when Don launched himself at him.

Sam hit the floor with a loud thud, but before he could recover, Don
had him in a tight hold, his back resting against Don�s chest. Sam immediately
twisted his arms, trying to break Don�s grip. But Don�s arms were like steel
and eventually Sam just relaxed into the pseudo-embrace.
�
�You�re so fucking tired of being alone,� Don whispered softly,
pressing a kiss to the top of Sam�s head. �You just want someone to hold you, to
touch you and let you know that you�re alive. Well Sam, guess what? You are alive.�

Shock entered those hazel orbs. �You don�t know me,� Sam whispered.

�But I plan to get to know you very well, if you let me.� He placed
a kiss on Sam�s temple, holding him for a few moments longer, before leading
Sam to the bed, lying him down and showering him with kisses all over his face
and throat. When he saw Sam�s eyes sliding to half mast, Don began stroking
through Sam�s hair. The repetitive motions were soothing, and within minutes,
Sam was out like a light.

Don smiled. Don 3, Sam 3. Admittedly, it wasn�t the result he was
aiming for, and by far the best he could�ve hoped for, but considering the huge
turnaround in attitude in Sam, Don predicted only clear skies and smooth
sailing in the foreseeable future. It really wasn�t such a bad day after all.

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSN

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