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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Warnings: slash, dark, violence, thoughts of suicide, self-harm � Don�t like?
Don�t read! No flamers!

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Chapter
Seven

When Don awoke, stiff and sore but strangely content,
there was momentary confusion as to why he felt that way, as to why he wasn�t
in his own bed in his own bedroom. But then he turned on his side and caught
sight of the perfection lying next to him and the previous night came rushing
back to him. He grinned, remembering how Sam had sounded and looked writhing
and moaning under him.

�You don�t stop grinning like an idiot, we�re
never doing it again,� came Sam�s
muffled voice as he turned to find a more comfortable position on the bed,
effectively placing his back to Don.

��It�?
Got a problem saying �sex�?� Don teased, lips twitching upwards.

He reached towards Sam, his index finger
beginning a slow, methodical caress starting at Sam�s wrist and gliding softly
all the way up his shoulder. Don continued the hypnotic movement, happy to just
hear the body next to him breathe, to bask in the warmth of his desire finally
consenting to the intimacy Don had wanted since the very beginning, when he
caught a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. Remembering the
disastrous incident with the scars littering Sam�s arms, Don was adamant not to
alienate the boy this time, surreptitiously moving his hand to run through
Sam�s hair. As the boy relaxed even further, Don lifted the offending tuft of
hair out of the way, showing a strange round mark on the top of Sam�s head.
Maybe Don was going blind, but it looked like a�

�Dean was my brother.�

�Huh?� The strange scar forgotten, Don snapped
back to the present, focusing on what Sam was saying.

�Last night, you asked me about the person I
named the dog after. It was my brother.�

�Tell me about him,� Don coaxed, his hand
wandering on its own to stroke his finger tips up and down Sam�s back, laying
light trails along Sam�s spine and causing the boy to shiver slightly.
�
It wasn�t that he particularly wished to know about Sam�s brother, but Sam clearly
needed to talk things through. And Don was alright with playing temporary
shrink as long as he could get Sam to start taking better care of himself. It
wouldn�t do for Sam to find himself in a state of depression while Don was at
work and doing something� regrettable. Not when they were finally really
getting along.

�Dean was the best. We grew up on the road,
and Dad tried, he really did. But between holding down a job and making sure we
were fed and clothed, he just didn�t have much time for us. It was Dean who
looked after me, made my meals, made sure I brushed my teeth, tucked me in.�

�Sounds like you two were really close,� Don
observed, turning Sam�s arm slightly to press a kiss at his inner elbow.
�
�Yeah, we were always close. I remember�� Sam
faltered, before an amused chuckle escaped his lips.

�What? Remember what?� Don trailed the kisses
up his arm and began lightly sucking on the boy�s neck.

�There was this one time, I think I was about
four and Dean was eight, we lived in an apartment for a few weeks. It wasn�t
like it was a really good apartment, but it was better than the cheap motels we
always stayed in; had more room for us to spread out. Dad said we could have
our own bedrooms, as in our own separate bedrooms.
And it all worked out for about a day before I caught Dean sleeping in a
sleeping bag on the floor of my room.�

Don sniggered and Sam�s reluctant smile
lingered for a few moments more before it disappeared once again beneath the
mask of indifference Sam was seldom seen without.

�The feeling was mutual. I followed him around
my entire life, looked up to him since I was four. Studying him, trying to be
just like my big brother. Then when he died, it was like �Sorry kid. Big
brother�s not indestructible. He�s not a superhero. He�s human. Just human. He
can�t always be here, can�t always take care of you.��

Must�ve
been a real punch in the guts when he realised that, Don thought to himself as he began stroking Sam�s back again, this
time changing the previous pattern he had traced on Sam�s back from lines to
circles.
�
�It was a real punch in the guts when I
realised that,� Sam carried on, not noticing the startled expression crossing
his companion�s face, nor the tensing of Don�s body. �And it was just so hard to
go on without him. I mean, Dean was my brother,
my best friend. The only person I had
left. Then suddenly, I was all alone. I�d never really been on my own before.
It just felt so��

�Lonely?�

�Like�� Sam paused, brow furrowing as he
seemingly searched for the right words, �it was like the world just lost all
its colour. Everything became dull and lifeless without him. Empty.
Meaningless.�
�
Don shifted uncomfortably. What was he
supposed to say to that? He couldn�t very well say to the upset boy �Er, well,
I�m sorry he�s dead. But he�s gone now. So you have to suck it up and move on.
Hey, how about sex (or as Sam so eloquently put it, �It�) to cheer you up?�

That would�ve been politically incorrect. Not
to mention callous and insensitive. It would completely destroy the tentative
rapport they had established. And Don wouldn�t put it past Sam to teach that
mongrel of his to bite off his balls.
�
Deciding to keep things simple and
non-controversial, he asked �How�d he die?�

Sam was silent for a moment, a muscle in his
cheek twitching. �He died saving me. And for the longest time, I hated him for that. I�d go out on three
day benders and end up in front of his grave, rambling and yelling at him. But
then afterwards, once I slept it off and thought about it, I�d feel so guilty. How could I have done that to
Dean? I mean the guy not only sacrificed his own childhood to raise me, but
also gave his life for me. What am I
supposed to do with that?�

Don had no answer for that. Sam�s neuroses
were progressively getting harder and harder for him to handle. When he first
saw Sam, he�d thought that the boy was either nursing a broken heart or
suffering from bereavement. Either that or he was just naturally foul tempered.
Don had been proven right about the bereavement, but the whole �sacrificing
oneself so the other would live� deal was way over his head. It bordered on a
philosophical slash metaphysical debate, and Don was neither. Nor was he
psychiatrist. For crying out loud, he was only a secretary!

He sighed inwardly. All he could do was to let Sam talk and listen
with an attentive ear. �What did you do after he died? Apart from three day
benders?� Don snaked his arms around Sam, happy now with just holding him,
reassuring himself that the boy was really there with him.

As he breathed in the sweet smell of sex
permeating from their intertwined bodies, Don steadfastly ignored the voice
niggling at the back of his brain, the voice that confirmed his suspicions, that
their glorious tryst the night before was nothing more than a combination of
loneliness, pain, guilt and a desire to be punished. But so what if it was? Don
wasn�t above taking advantage of his quarry. He had, after all, waited only too
long for this moment.
�
�I went out drinking, hustling, watching movies
until my eyes popped. It took me a while to work it out, but I finally realised
that I was just doing all the stuff Dean liked doing. As if-�

�You could keep him with you by doing all the
things he liked?�

�Weird, huh? Bobby told me I was even acting
like Dean. �Sarcastic, pop cultural referencing idgit� he called me. Or
something like that.�

�Bobby?� Don�s heart began racing. He didn�t
need anyone sniffing around, trying to take Sam away from him. Unconsciously,
he brought himself - if at all possible - closer to Sam.

�A friend. We� parted ways. He thought I was
too reckless. Threatened to blast me full of buckshot. Said the same thing to
my old man once. But can you believe that? The nerve of that man!� Sam rolled
his eyes and snorted his annoyance at the slight.

Don bit his tongue, refraining from pointing
out the truthfulness of this �Bobby�s� words, even as he breathed a sigh of
relief that Bobby would not be coming looking for his wayward friend. The less
the authorities were involved, the better.

�But I couldn�t go roadtripping anymore,� Sam
carried on, unaware of Don�s inner musings. �Not without Dean. It just wasn�t
the same. I put down roots, settled down. But every year on the anniversary of
his death, I�d leave home, go somewhere, anywhere for a few weeks.�

�And that�s what you were doing before I�
�invited� you here?� Don asked, treading carefully.

�If you could call it an invitation, then
yes,� Sam said testily.

�How long ago did he die?�

�Feels like forever.�

�And is Dean�s death the reason why you don�t care
about your own life anymore? Why you get off on punishing yourself? Letting
yourself get hurt?�

Sam sighed, but otherwise remained silent for
such a long time Don thought he might have fallen back asleep again. But then,
he murmured �Maybe, I don�t know� I guess. But it�s like no matter what I do, I
just can�t, I just don�t feel alive. Except��

It was then that the proverbial light bulb
went on in Don�s brain.

�Except for the pain. The pain is the only
thing that makes you feel alive,� Don realised.

When Sam didn�t answer, Don released his hold
on Sam, forcing Sam to turn around to face him. Taking Sam�s face in his hands,
he spoke slowly �Do you think Dean would have wanted this for you? Would he
have wanted you to waste the life he gave to save?�

�Probably not,� Sam agreed. �But then again,
I�ve been doing a lotta stuff he probably wouldn�t like.�

�That sounds vaguely ominous,� Don said
lightly. When Sam gave no answer except a strange smile, he continued, �Listen
to me. You�re not to do that anymore, you hear me? I am going to take care of
you from now on.�

Sam�s face was an unreadable mask. He gently
placed his hands around Don�s wrists, breaking the grip Don had on him before
burrowing his head under the covers, like a child who had been scolded for
misbehaving.

�Don�t you have work?� came Sam�s muffled
voice.

�I can�t help it if there�s a traffic jam on
the freeway now, can I?� Don asked innocently. He then pretended to sigh. �As
much as I hate doing it, I�m gonna have to be late to work.�

A few short moments later, a tousled head peeked
out from under the covers, a suspicious look on the boy�s face.

Don wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. �Wanna
go again?�

***

Things changed, and at the same time they
didn�t. Sam seemed to be in a perpetually good mood nowadays, his sarcasm had
turned to wit and he teased Don with the same gentleness as he had when he held
the dog�s favourite squeaky toy (bought by Don of course. He�d been spoiling
Sam so much lately!) out of reach.

Yet more often than not, Sam would appear to
be deep in thought, and Don would catch him with that strange smile on his face
again, the �I�m just thinking� smile Don used to always see on the boy�s face
before Don bought him the little dog. Not that he could call the dog little
anymore. It was like little Dean was on steroids, it was already approaching
Sam�s knees and probably wasn�t done growing yet. More amusingly (at least in
Don�s opinion), Dean was in the awkward stage where its legs were out of proportion
in comparison to its body, and every time its bouncy and unsteady run led to
the odd, unavoidable accident, Don would fight to keep his sniggering silent.
Unfortunately, Sam seemed to have the ears of a bat, picking up Don�s sniggers
no matter how quiet Don kept them, and threatened to set Dean on him if he ever
laughed at his dog again. But not laughing was in itself a difficult feat to
accomplish, as every time the dog did trip over its own four legs, it would
whine and demand to be picked up, like a child would demand of his parents
after having fallen over, and leaving Sam to explain patiently again and again
that Dean was now too big for Sam to pick him up.
�
Things had also finally progressed to a stage
where Sam was also always willing and waiting when Don came back from work. On
more than one occasion, he had tried to seduce (unsuccessfully) Don into
staying longer in the morning and missing work altogether. Don had to give him
points for trying, but Sam clearly wasn�t cut out to be the hunter. But on the
other hand, being the prey�

And as Don bounded down the stairs in a state
of nervous anticipation, his horrible day at the office forgotten, he told
himself today was the day to show how much he loved and trusted Sam, the day to
finally change the dynamics of their strange relationship.

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSN

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