Beautiful, Dirty, Rich - Ch. 4
Title: Beautiful, Dirty, Rich
Rating: R
Pairings: Weecest
Word Count: 4,818 (so far)
Summary: Dean sells his body to keep both himself and Sam from starving.
Notes: I am cowriting this with a friend. I write the chapters from Dean's POV. She writes the ones from Sam's POV.
If Sam had a dollar for every time Dean hid something from him, he’d be a rich fucker. He shut his notebook, hand aching from writing as long as he did. He’d just done three copies of his Algebra homework. As he plopped down on the motel bed, he let out a sigh of malcontent. Even though his brother was home, he still felt uneasy.
In the morning Dean was calling his name, his gravelly voice strained and yet still recognizable enough that Sam could tell he was impatient today.
“Dude. Sammy I’ve called you like ten times, you’re gonna be late for school,” Dean yanked the covers back making Sam groan in protest, covering his head with his pillow.
“De, I don’t feel good,” he murmured. He knew that Dean would have to take him seriously. In his entire life he’d probably only missed about four days of school.
Dean leaned over putting a hand on Sam’s forehead, “Yeah, Okay, get some rest Sammy.” He re-covered Sam with the blankets and turned off the light. Sam smiled at the warmth enclosed around him and slowly drifted back to sleep. Lately there was nothing Sam loved more than sleeping, feeling all his stress and problems melt away replaced with a sense of comfort that only Dean and unconsciousness ever brought him.
When he woke for the second time it was to the mouthwatering scent of Dean’s pancakes. It was the first real food they’d had in days that wasn’t pre-cooked and frozen. Sam bolted to the table eyeing his brother as he drizzled batter into the pan and flipped them with a grimy hotel spatula. But beggars can’t be choosers he supposed and gave Dean a thankful smile when a stack of pancakes was slapped onto the plate.
“I already ate, so these are all yours Sammy,” Dean smiled at him. Sam licked his lips so distracted by the rumble of his own stomach that he almost didn’t notice that Dean had his hood up indoors.
“Really?!” Sam asked excited, he scarfed down the food in no time, there was absolutely nothing Sam loved more than Dean’s pancakes. He’d only gotten them on special occasions maybe two or three times before. There was always something special about them; Sam would say it was love, but that was a little too cliché for his taste.
“Feeling better?” Dean asked looking over at Sam, half concerned, half confused.
Sam nodded smiling, “Much.” He licked his lips and let his eyes wander to the park outside their window and across the street. The boys from school were there, and they’d spotted Sam. Dean followed Sam’s slightly horrified gaze and frowned.
“They giving you trouble Sammy?”
Sam immediately shook his head hoping that Dean wouldn’t read too far into this. He just wanted to let the subject fade into nothingness. “No, they’re- uh, friends actually.” He forced a smile and waved at the boys, who didn’t return the gesture. He could tell Dean wasn’t buying it.
“Sammy come on, if you’re having trouble you can-”
“Dean, I’m fine, now can we please just got back to eating? Or do you wanna explain to me why you’re wearing a hoodie inside?” He was assuming it was to hide hickeys on Dean’s neck or something. Usually Dean flaunted them, but maybe he hooked up with one of those really handsy girls, he’d seen it maybe once or twice before. A girl that couldn’t stop focusing on the smooth skin of Dean’s neck and by the time she’d left Dean’s room, Sam could have played connect the dots on his brother’s neck if he’d wanted to. Dean of course dropped the subject after that heading over to the sink to wash dishes. Sam had never seen Dean touch a dish in his damn life, there must be something really serious going on. He leaned onto the table, “Hey De, is everything okay?” his brother didn’t respond right away.
“Sammy will you quit your worrying, what are you, my wife?” It came out very hostile and Sam actually flinched at the words.
“Sorry I asked,” he slammed his chair back and headed back over to his bed laying down and frowning. He heard Dean sigh.
“Sammy you know I didn’t mean to say it like that…”
“Just don’t Dean,” he glared frowning.
Dean bit his lip but stayed silent so Sam opened his laptop and started to do some internet surfing. The school he was at had a student chat room, usually for sexting and other disgusting things, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. That feeling was correct. Topic of the day, Sam Winchester.
Casey1982: He’s cute I dunno what you’re all talking about.
Matt84: Are you kidding, the kid’s a nerd, and a freak.
TrevorW: Not to mention he’s Ashton’s bitch, he has that freak doing all his homework
Casey1982: Wait are you fucking serious? Oh my god, what a loser.
Sam read through a few more comments: loser, freak, nerd. He shut the computer standing up and walking to the bathroom locking himself inside. He sat in the bathtub and cried. He cried a lot harder than he had in a long time. He felt so worthless. Since when did he let people make him feel this way? The only person who’s opinion mattered was Dean. And lately Dean had been so distant; he was starting to feel like his brother didn’t care about him anymore. Maybe Dean thought what the kids at school thought. Maybe Sam was a freak, and a nerd. He lay back in the bathtub sniffling and closed his eyes tight. He just wanted everyone to disappear; he wanted the normal Dean back and everyone else gone.
He slowly drifted off to sleep dreaming of a better day. He let his mind wander to the night John had gone but left the impala. Dean and he had leaned against the hood of the car and watched the meteor shower that night. He remembered his brother saying, “Make a wish Sammy.” And he remembered wishing more than anything else in the world, that Dean would love him, really truly love him. But nothing ever worked out in your favor when you’re a Winchester.
( part five)
Rating: R
Pairings: Weecest
Word Count: 4,818 (so far)
Summary: Dean sells his body to keep both himself and Sam from starving.
Notes: I am cowriting this with a friend. I write the chapters from Dean's POV. She writes the ones from Sam's POV.
If Sam had a dollar for every time Dean hid something from him, he’d be a rich fucker. He shut his notebook, hand aching from writing as long as he did. He’d just done three copies of his Algebra homework. As he plopped down on the motel bed, he let out a sigh of malcontent. Even though his brother was home, he still felt uneasy.
In the morning Dean was calling his name, his gravelly voice strained and yet still recognizable enough that Sam could tell he was impatient today.
“Dude. Sammy I’ve called you like ten times, you’re gonna be late for school,” Dean yanked the covers back making Sam groan in protest, covering his head with his pillow.
“De, I don’t feel good,” he murmured. He knew that Dean would have to take him seriously. In his entire life he’d probably only missed about four days of school.
Dean leaned over putting a hand on Sam’s forehead, “Yeah, Okay, get some rest Sammy.” He re-covered Sam with the blankets and turned off the light. Sam smiled at the warmth enclosed around him and slowly drifted back to sleep. Lately there was nothing Sam loved more than sleeping, feeling all his stress and problems melt away replaced with a sense of comfort that only Dean and unconsciousness ever brought him.
When he woke for the second time it was to the mouthwatering scent of Dean’s pancakes. It was the first real food they’d had in days that wasn’t pre-cooked and frozen. Sam bolted to the table eyeing his brother as he drizzled batter into the pan and flipped them with a grimy hotel spatula. But beggars can’t be choosers he supposed and gave Dean a thankful smile when a stack of pancakes was slapped onto the plate.
“I already ate, so these are all yours Sammy,” Dean smiled at him. Sam licked his lips so distracted by the rumble of his own stomach that he almost didn’t notice that Dean had his hood up indoors.
“Really?!” Sam asked excited, he scarfed down the food in no time, there was absolutely nothing Sam loved more than Dean’s pancakes. He’d only gotten them on special occasions maybe two or three times before. There was always something special about them; Sam would say it was love, but that was a little too cliché for his taste.
“Feeling better?” Dean asked looking over at Sam, half concerned, half confused.
Sam nodded smiling, “Much.” He licked his lips and let his eyes wander to the park outside their window and across the street. The boys from school were there, and they’d spotted Sam. Dean followed Sam’s slightly horrified gaze and frowned.
“They giving you trouble Sammy?”
Sam immediately shook his head hoping that Dean wouldn’t read too far into this. He just wanted to let the subject fade into nothingness. “No, they’re- uh, friends actually.” He forced a smile and waved at the boys, who didn’t return the gesture. He could tell Dean wasn’t buying it.
“Sammy come on, if you’re having trouble you can-”
“Dean, I’m fine, now can we please just got back to eating? Or do you wanna explain to me why you’re wearing a hoodie inside?” He was assuming it was to hide hickeys on Dean’s neck or something. Usually Dean flaunted them, but maybe he hooked up with one of those really handsy girls, he’d seen it maybe once or twice before. A girl that couldn’t stop focusing on the smooth skin of Dean’s neck and by the time she’d left Dean’s room, Sam could have played connect the dots on his brother’s neck if he’d wanted to. Dean of course dropped the subject after that heading over to the sink to wash dishes. Sam had never seen Dean touch a dish in his damn life, there must be something really serious going on. He leaned onto the table, “Hey De, is everything okay?” his brother didn’t respond right away.
“Sammy will you quit your worrying, what are you, my wife?” It came out very hostile and Sam actually flinched at the words.
“Sorry I asked,” he slammed his chair back and headed back over to his bed laying down and frowning. He heard Dean sigh.
“Sammy you know I didn’t mean to say it like that…”
“Just don’t Dean,” he glared frowning.
Dean bit his lip but stayed silent so Sam opened his laptop and started to do some internet surfing. The school he was at had a student chat room, usually for sexting and other disgusting things, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. That feeling was correct. Topic of the day, Sam Winchester.
Casey1982: He’s cute I dunno what you’re all talking about.
Matt84: Are you kidding, the kid’s a nerd, and a freak.
TrevorW: Not to mention he’s Ashton’s bitch, he has that freak doing all his homework
Casey1982: Wait are you fucking serious? Oh my god, what a loser.
Sam read through a few more comments: loser, freak, nerd. He shut the computer standing up and walking to the bathroom locking himself inside. He sat in the bathtub and cried. He cried a lot harder than he had in a long time. He felt so worthless. Since when did he let people make him feel this way? The only person who’s opinion mattered was Dean. And lately Dean had been so distant; he was starting to feel like his brother didn’t care about him anymore. Maybe Dean thought what the kids at school thought. Maybe Sam was a freak, and a nerd. He lay back in the bathtub sniffling and closed his eyes tight. He just wanted everyone to disappear; he wanted the normal Dean back and everyone else gone.
He slowly drifted off to sleep dreaming of a better day. He let his mind wander to the night John had gone but left the impala. Dean and he had leaned against the hood of the car and watched the meteor shower that night. He remembered his brother saying, “Make a wish Sammy.” And he remembered wishing more than anything else in the world, that Dean would love him, really truly love him. But nothing ever worked out in your favor when you’re a Winchester.
( part five)