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The trunk was stuffier than Ben had anticipated.
In hindsight, yeah, hiding out in the trunk of a car in the middle of August in Kansas? Not his wisest choice. But! In his defense! It has been a split second decision and he hadn’t exactly had a ton of options here.
His dad had come for one of his (admittedly frequent) visits this weekend. And that was great. Cool. Awesome. Because Dean Winchester? He was a cool awesome guy, especially as far as grown ups went. Dad liked to play his music too loud, never yelling to turn it down like Mom. He let Ben have milkshakes and burgers for every meal, and never once complained about how he should eat a vegetable. (That would’ve made him a hypocrite—a word Uncle Sam recently taught him—because Dad himself probably hadn’t had a vegetable since the ‘90s. So like a million years ago.)
And of course Dad had a sweet ass car—with a trunk the perfect size for a boy to climb into.
So when after just two days together, Dad said he had to go off on some hunt, Ben hadn’t been thrilled to say the least. Sure, Dad said he would be back in a week. But c’mon, that’s still total shit.
They were supposed to go fishing tomorrow and Dad was gonna come to his soccer game on Monday; he was the one who was bringing the freaking orange slices! And everybody knows that’s like the most important part of a soccer game. Seriously why even have a game without them?
So you can see Ben’s dilemma. He had tried the reasonable approach at first, he really had. He’d asked Dad nicely to stay, even said please and everything! And when that hadn’t yielded results, he’d gone the kicking and screaming route. That had just gotten him a look from Dad and a “do you want me to come over there and settle you down?” Honestly, grown ups ask the dumbest questions sometimes. “Is that how you’re gonna talk to me?” “Are you gonna behave?” “Do you want a spanking?” No he did not, thanks for asking.
Ultimately, Ben had been left with no real choice but to climb in the trunk of Dad’s car. If Dad was gonna go on some hunt and cut his visit short, then it seemed only fair that Ben got to tag along.
Ben had heard Dad calling for him from his curled up position in the trunk as Dad was getting ready to leave. Mom told him that Ben had gone to a friend’s house, like he’d told her he was, and Dad said to tell him bye. A minute later, the car started and they were on the road. Ben was home free.
A couple of flaws in his plan became rapidly apparent.
To start, he really shoulda gone to the bathroom before he left. Mom was always reminding him to go before road trips, and he hated how right she was. He also would be having a lot more fun if he’d thought to bring a comic book and a flashlight to read it or something. Because turns out, laying in a trunk that you can’t even stretch out in, slowly starting to drip in sweat? Not the most entertaining activity.
After a lot of tossing a turning, and wishing for a cool breeze, Ben must’ve managed to drift to sleep. Because the next thing he knew, he could feel the car slowing to a full stop, gravel crunching under the tires. The sound of a car door slamming shut fully jolted Ben into consciousness.
Ben hadn’t actually given too much thought to how he was planning to get out of the trunk, much less explain to his dad that he had tagged along. It was looking like he was gonna have to think quick though, he could hear Dad’s muffled voice coming into range outside the car.
A minute later, Dad became fully audible. He was clearly standing near the trunk now.
“No, I’m still a few hours out, I’ll be there before dark.” Dad was talking to someone outside. “Yes I remembered it… Of course I’m sure.” Ben could practically hear the eye roll. “Look, would you quit your whining? I’m checking now, it’s in my—“
Well fuck.
In half a second, the trunk went from pitch dark to blindingly bright. Ben squinted up into the blaring sun, Dad’s face gradually coming into view. And once it had, Ben suddenly wished he was back in the sweltering dark.
Dad. Looked. Pissed.
Actually, pissed didn’t quite cover it.
Dad looked like someone had just put a big ass scratch all over the side of his car. He looked like someone had just told him his favorite burger joint was haunted. Like that one time he’d caught Ben trying out of one of his handguns. Next level pissed. With a big ol’ fuckload of confused worry mixed in.
“Sammy… I’m gonna have to call you back.” Dad hung up his phone, slowly lowering it to hang at his side, not waiting to hear whatever Uncle Sam was getting ready to say.
Ben stared at his dad, who stared right back. It sort of felt like one of those staring contests little kids had at recess sometimes because Ben was pretty sure he was gonna lose big time if he blinked first.
Dad blinked first, but it didn’t feel like much of a win. “Oh for the love of—“ he slapped a palm to his face. “For fuck’s sake Ben, what are you doing here?”
“Uh, surprise?” Maybe he should’ve spent some of the car ride coming up with a better answer than that. Then again, Dad didn’t look like there was an answer that was gonna satisfy him.
Dad reached into the trunk, hand clamping around Ben’s arm and hauling him right on out. He crouched down in the gravel, getting eye level with Ben. “Are you hurt?” A big hand pressed against his forehead, feeling his temperature the way Mom does when Ben says he’s too sick to go to school.
“No, just sweaty. It was hot in there.” A light breeze had never felt nicer. Dad stood up, shaking his head like Ben was out of his mind. He looked Ben up and down in a way that made Ben feel like he should probably straighten his shoulders even though he wanted to squirm around.
“Come on. Let’s get you something cold to drink. Then we get the fun job of calling your mom.” Dad took a hold of his shoulder, leading him into the little diner they’d been parked in front of.
They took a seat in a booth, a smiling older waitress coming over and setting glasses of water down in front of them. Ben chugged his at a speed that would impress any frat guy. Dad pushed his own glass of water towards Ben, and Ben eagerly drank that one too.
Feeling sufficiently cooled off, Ben picked up one of the menus. “Hey, they’ve got one of those weird meatless burgers Uncle Sammy likes. Kansas is getting more hippy.”
“We’re in Oklahoma.” Dad’s lack of rant about the insanity of the meatless burger didn’t bode well for his mood.
“Huh. Must’ve been a longer ride than I thought. You should really get a clock or something back there, was hard to tell how long it’d been.” Ben shrugged. Dad’s glare had him pulling the menu up higher, sinking down more behind it. Okayyyy, so Dad wasn’t yet ready for this to be a funny story. Got it.
His assumptions were confirmed when Dad said, “You think this is funny? Do I look like I’m laughing?” Chancing a glance around the menu, Ben could see that no, in fact, Dad was not laughing. He looked a lot madder than Ben ever really saw him. Ben wasn’t totally sure if his brows were quite as furrowed and lips quite as pursed as that time Ben called his mom that-word-he-wasn’t-even-supposed-to-think, but it was at least almost as pissy lookin’. Probably a top five most mad moment.
After a beat of silence with Dad still staring at Ben all expectant like, Ben asked, “Do you actually want me to answer or…”
“I want you to hush.”
Hushing it was. Ben could totally do that. Except then the waitress came by and asked what they wanted to order, so he had to talk then. But after that? He was all hush. They could just have a super quiet lunch. Real fun.
And he was real quiet. For like a whole two minutes. Probably more actually, probably more like a whole hour. Well, maybe three minutes. Except then he remembered they were gonna call Mom and he really didn’t wanna do that. So he had to ask, “Do we gotta call her?”
“Your mom? Yeah, kid, we have to tell her. Or else she’s gonna put out an amber alert and go all Taken ‘til she finds your ass.” Ben wasn’t sure what that last part meant but it didn’t sound ideal.
Still… “But she’s gonna make me come home!”
Dad raised an eyebrow. “Of course she’s gonna make you go home. What, did you think you were gonna get to stowaway and then be rewarded with a road trip?”
Ben crossed his arms, slouching in his seat. “So what, you’re gonna turn around and drive all day back just to take me home? Or are you planning on sticking me on a bus? Oh, or maybe I could hitchhike back.”
“You ever hitchhike anywhere and I swear I’ll tan you so thoroughly you won’t sit for a week.” Dad looked somehow angrier at the mere idea. Smooth move, Ben, way to piss him off more.
Ben held his hands up placatingly to stave off the accusatory finger being pointed at him.
Thankfully, the waitress came back with their milkshakes and food before any real lecture could commence.
They ate quietly, and Ben even remembered to use his table manners—years of Mom begging him to use a napkin and not put elbows on the table, and she wasn’t even there to enjoy the result. Once they’d finished and paid, Dad pointed at him again. “You stay here a minute. I’m gonna go call your mom.” Well, at least Ben wouldn’t have to hear the lecture first hand.
He watched through the diner window as Dad called. He paced back and forth, talking for what felt like a long time. A couple times he made eye contact with Ben, giving him a stink eye that could only mean Mom was reading him the riot act in lieu of actually having access to Ben’s own ear. Good. Let Dad get yelled at for once, see how he likes it.
Dad eventually hung up the phone and Ben went out to join him. Dad was watching him with narrowed eyes that made Ben wanna fidget. He scuffed his toe against the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust. “So we going back home then?” That wouldn’t be so bad, he supposed. Maybe then Dad would have missed the whole hunt with how long the trip takes. Then he could just stay with Ben like he was supposed to and they could still go fishing and bring oranges to his soccer game. Assuming Mom didn’t ground him for forever, of course.
Dad sucked in a loud breath of air, blowing it out just as noisy. “Your mom and I decided that it doesn’t make much sense for me to drive you all the way back home right now. So you’re gonna come with me. But!” He cut off Ben’s excited cheer sharply. “But you’re gonna behave yourself. And this isn’t some reward. You’re in real deep shit with us still, and we have a long conversation ahead of us about this stunt.”
Great. Something told him that wasn’t gonna be a vocal discussion, unless the sound of him hollering counted.
“Yes sir, I’ll behave.” Ben tried to keep the smugness out of his voice because Mom said it wasn’t good to gloat when he got what he wanted. And really, sure, whatever ass whooping Dad was gonna dole out would suck. But at the end of the day he got to go on the hunt and roadtrip around with Dad and Uncle Sam. So he was still coming out on top here.
Dad was a little less grumpy once they hit the road again. Whether it was the lunch or the lecturing he’d done that had calmed him down, either way he didn’t seem as pissy. He turned the music on in the car and let Ben ask his million and one questions about the hunt they were headed on. Well, the hunt Dad and Uncle Sam were headed on; Dad had made it super-extra-loud-and-clear that Ben wasn’t gonna be anywhere near the hunt itself.
Despite that, Ben had to ask just one more time. “What if I just stay in the car while you guys kill the thing? Or I could like guard the door!”
Dad didn’t seem impressed at the suggestion. “You’re gonna stay in the motel and keep yourself far away from anything that goes bump in the night. Or else your mom will kill us both.” Ben must’ve not looked suitably agreeable to that because Dad’s voice got that low stern grumble to it. “You hear me, Ben?”
Ben waved a hand at him, slumping against the car window. “Yeah, yeah, I got it dude.”
A pause. “Did you just call me ‘dude’?”
That had to be a rhetorical question. His dad was pretty old—the man was like forty after all—but his hearing couldn’t be that bad quite yet.
Dean mulled his own question over for a minute before giving a slow nod, rubbing his chin. “Yeah... Gotta say, not a fan of that one. Don’t recommend doing it again.” He patted Ben on the side of his thigh, just firmly enough to verge out of friendly and into warning territory.
Duly noted.
They’d been driving for over an hour now, and still were a couple hours away from where Uncle Sam was waiting for them. (Or at least where he was waiting for Dad, Ben was pretty sure his presence was gonna be a nice surprise addition).
Dad had started being all unreasonable around the hour mark. His grip on the steering wheel was tightening and his mouth was set again in that thin line. And all Ben was even doing was just asking why he couldn’t go on the stupid hunt, even just a little bit!
“Quit asking, Ben. You’re already on thin ice for this stowaway crap. Stop pushing me, you’re not gonna like what happens if you don’t.”
According to most of the teachers Ben’s had in his educational experience, he’s not the best at following directions. Their exact words were something along the lines of ‘stubborn’ and ‘obstinate’—he knew the first word wasn’t great but had never gotten a definition on the last. Asking his parents and thus drawing more attention to the comments made at his parent-teacher conference hadn’t seemed like the wisest move at the time. But Ben got the gist: he didn’t listen so hot some of the time.
That was why he responded to Dad with an eye roll (word to the wise, Dad is never a big fan of that, least of all when you’re already in trouble) and a smartass, “Well if I’m already in crap for stowing away once, why shouldn’t I just do it again to come on the hunt?”
Faster than Ben could’ve possibly prepared for, the car jerked to the side of the road, tires skidding to a halt. Ben was pretty sure that if Uncle Sam had ever driven Dad’s car so aggressively, yanking it around and slamming the brakes like that, Dad woulda hog tied him and dragged him behind the car the rest of the way. But Dad didn’t seem overly concerned with the state of his tires or nothing right now. His eyes were locked in on Ben and he looked Real Fucking Mad.
“Excuse me?”
Whoops.
Before Ben could think of a sufficient apology, Dad was already getting out of the car.
Good. Let him take a nice little stroll. It was a nice evening for it, and it was real quiet out here on this old backwater road. Perfect for Dad to try doing some of that meditation stuff Uncle Sam was always saying was good for you. Dad can just go cool off, and come back when he doesn’t look ready to burst a blood vessel.
Except Dad wasn’t walking off on some leisurely walk. He was coming around to Ben’s side of the car and yanking the door open. “Out.” He ordered.
“Um. If it’s alright with you, I think I’d rather stay in here. Kinda chilly out and all.” Ben leaned as far back as his seatbelt allowed. That did not, in fact, seem to be alright with Dad.
“One.”
“Dad, c’mon. Can’t we just keep driving? You’re acting crazy.”
“Two.”
Although the idea of getting out of the car, and thus losing the sweet sweet protection of the seat protecting his ass, was horrifying, the idea of letting Dad get to three was even worse. The last time Dad had counted and made it all the way to three, Ben had wound up with his pants around his ankles and a switch burning his ass up. With that memory in mind, he quickly scrambled out of the car.
“Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Ben crossed his arms, rubbing at the goosebumps rising on them.
Dad didn’t reply. He took Ben by the shoulders and spun him around to face the car. Ben braced himself, anticipating a swat or two to fall. But, horrifyingly, nothing came. The only thing that would’ve been worse than Dad’s hand smacking his ass at that moment was Dad’s hand pushing firmly on Ben’s back, forcing him to bend over the hood of the car.
“Dad?” Even Ben could hear the note of panic in his voice. He wasn’t clueless and this position rarely ever boded well for him. “What’re you doing?” Because seriously, he can’t actually mean to do this right here, right now, right on the side of the damn road?
Even over the roaring in his own ears, Ben could hear the horrifyingly distinct sound of Dad unbuckling his belt and sliding it out of the loops. “It seems like our discussion about this stunt you pulled can’t wait any longer. Especially if you think mouthing off and threatening to do it again is a wise choice.”
“No! I won’t do it again, I promise!” Ben wiggled around futilely on the hood.
Instead of the ‘oh good, that’s all I wanted to hear, now we can hit the road again’ that Ben had been hoping for, his answer was a stinging smack from the belt. The first of sure to be many.
Around the fifth whack, Ben decided to take back every nice thing he had thought about Dad earlier that day. He wasn’t cool or awesome or fun at all, he was actually the worst. And Ben should’ve just stayed home with Mom, who wasn’t the worst, and let Dad go alone on his stupid dumb hunt. And! He didn’t even want Dad to bring orange slices to his soccer game anymore. That would teach him.
It was hard to feel thankful right now, but he was that at least the road they were on seemed not well traveled. It was late enough at this point that nobody else had driven by. Although if Dad kept at it, eventually someone would drive by and get some free entertainment at his expense. Maybe a cop would be the one driving by and Dad would get arrested to violating some public ass whooping laws.
Who was he kidding, this was Oklahoma. Dad would win a fuckin’ medal for this.
When Dad started working his way back up Ben’s ass for a second round, Ben started making his usual during-spanking promises. “I’m sorry! Daddy I won’t do it again. I’ll never even open the trunk, I swear!”
Dad didn’t seem moved by his vow. Instead he moved his hand from resting on Ben’s back, snagging it through the belt loop of Ben’s jeans and lifting him higher up the hood, clean straight off the ground. He kicked his feet desperately, toes barely grazing the ground. Now Dad had superb access to whack away at his thighs. And he took full advantage.
“Don’t you ever sneak away from home like this again. Even if it’s technically with me.” Several sharp smacks accompanied this, and Ben found himself frantically nodding.
“And you don’t get to try and threaten me into taking you on a damn hunt. When I say no: That. Means. No. You read me?”
“Yes yes! Yes sir!” Loud and fucking clear. Ben could read him if he was speaking gibberish at this moment. Never again. Got it. Good. Perfect. Now could his ass catch a break please?
Dad paused a moment, and Ben could hear his deep sigh even over the sound of his own wails. His voice was softer when he spoke next, and it made Ben’s stomach feel all nauseous and twisty. “Ben, son, I’ve never been more serious with you about anything. I need you to not do this again. You could’ve been hurt, hiding out in that hot trunk. And you could definitely get hurt if you sneak onto a hunt, especially if I don’t know you’re there. I need you to be safe.” Dad’s hand rubbed his back a few times, and it helped his stomach not feel like he’d swallowed rocks. Then another stripe of fire hit his ass, and he was more focussed on that again.
Ben wasn’t sure how many more times Dad whacked him (probably a hundred though) but his ass was scorched by the end. There must be literal steam coming off it. Someone was probably gonna see the smoke from a mile away and call the fire department, and then Dad would have to explain to the firefighters that it wasn’t a wildfire, just his terribly behaved son’s ass.
The rustling sound of Dad putting his belt on still wasn’t very comforting, but was certainly better than it coming off. Ben wanted to stand up and confirm that the terrible weapon had been placed safely back on Dad’s hips, but lying over the hood and crying was taking priority.
A gentle, “Aww buddy…” preceded Dad’s big warm hand rubbing Ben’s back. Dad rubbed up and down Ben’s back and shoulder, murmuring words Ben didn’t care enough to calm down and hear, but appreciated how nice his voice sounded nonetheless.
Ben felt Dad sit beside him on the hood of the car. He whimpered a complaint when Dad picked him up, but Dad just shushed him and pulled him to sit right up on his lap. Ben was torn. On the one hand his ass hurt so sitting on it wasn’t exactly something he was eager for. But on the other, Dad always had the warmest arms and he always squeezed Ben in this super tight way that reminded him of a koala. Or maybe an octopus? Either way it was real nice. Kinda made up for the sore ass. Kinda.
Dad pressed a kiss to Ben’s head, and Ben coulda sworn it seemed like he was actually sniffing Ben’s hair, breathing him in real deep. Weird. But Ben wasn’t really in a position to be bitching seeing as how his ass had been dipped in lava a minute ago.
“I’ve got you, kiddo. You’re safe.” Dad was talking soft to him still, but it sorta seemed like he was maybe just talking to himself really. Because Ben knew he was safe. Of course he was, Dad had been there the whole time. But sometimes Dad was weird and didn’t seem to get stuff like that.
They sat like that for a long while. Another car drove by once, and Ben was just thankful they weren’t ten minutes earlier. Sitting on your dad’s lap was a lot less embarrassing than being bent over the car, that’s for sure. Eventually, Dad patted his back a few times, then lowered him down to stand on the ground. Ben stood in front of him, still sniffling occasionally, and Dad eyed him up and down like he was looking for something. He must’ve found it because he smiled and ruffled Ben’s hair. Ben had never been so relieved to see Dad stop looking grumpy.
Dad opened the car door for Ben, and Ben got back in, careful of his sore ass. There wasn’t gonna be a single comfortable way to sit, he just knew it, and they still had like two hours to go.
“Ants in your pants?” Dad was watching him squirm around with a grin. Ben sent back his best glare.
“Not funny.” He flicked on the radio. “Just for that I get to pick the music.” It was always fun to watch Dad have to listen to some song he hated. And there were an awful lot of songs on that list.
Dad groaned with a fair bit of drama. “I’ll trade you: you don’t play garbage, and in exchange, on our way home I’ll take you to that rated-R movie you’ve been wanting to see. Deal?”
Ben perked up at the offer. “The one Mom said no to?” Her exact words had been ‘hell no’ to be technical about it.
“Probably best if you don’t go telling your mom about it, but yeah that’s the one.”
“Deal!” Ben changed the radio to some station playing those old songs Dad liked.
Dad was maybe still a little bit cool. He’d be cooler once Ben’s ass stopped hurting, for now it was more of a toss up.