What Will a Thousand Bucks Get Me? Wincest/Nc-17/Hooker fic
Title: What will a thousand bucks get me? (Anything you want)
Author: Dolavine
Pairing: Sam and Dean Winchester
Rating: Nc-17 for sex
Word Count: 4,168
Warnings: Sam’s 16 (not exactly a child but if it squicks it’s warned for)
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys; this is but a figment of my imagination. Erik Kripke owns the boys not me; I just borrow them for sexing.
Summary: Sam turns tricks to make a few bucks, when Dean finds out he buys him for himself and discovers it’s more than to teach Sam a lesson.
A/N: Written for icelily01 for the iluvkinkythings J2 and Supernatural Hooker fic meme. Thank you to my magnificent beta memoonster yet again for a job well done and keeping me in line. ;)
PDF: AO3
Prompt: Sam(16ish) decides that it's time he starts pulling his weight, helping bring in money like his dad does with credit card scams and Dean does hustling pool. But when he chooses to start selling his body for it, Dean refuses to let that happen. He tracks Sam down and buys him himself so that no one else can have him. (Throw in whatever kinks you like and bonus points for starting with angst and ending with a little schmoop.)
Sam’s tired of not having any money and living on nothing but stolen credit cards and Dean’s spoils from billiards and dart hustling. He doesn’t have the special skills that Dean has and there is no use using more identity theft because they already have more identities than they need.
He wants to work, he’s sixteen now and over the years has tried different jobs like mowing lawns or helping people do things for a little extra cash but it never brings in much more than fifty bucks before they have to move on. The main problem with this whole trying to earn an honest living is, they never stay in any one place long enough to do it. He needs a job that he can do wherever they happen to be, that is versatile and that he will enjoy.
It’s late when Sam heads back down the corridor to their motel room; he’s been earning a little extra by helping the maid clean up a room that was trashed by a psychopath a few nights prior. He sees the Impala’s gone but the light is on in the room, he peeks in the window finding an opening between the curtains and fixes his vision on the tiny slip of room he can see.
He sees movement so he focuses harder, he sees Dean’s naked body writhing on the bed, and he knows what’s happening. Dean’s found a bimbo and brought her back to the room since their dad’s out hunting something.
Sitting on the cement outside of the window he can hear moaning, Dean’s deep voice making guttural noises so he stands back up and peeks through the window again. He can’t see much but breasts bobbing up and down since the bimbo is riding Dean but he can’t help but keep watching. He licks his lips as his breathing gets faster, his face is pressed against the screen as he thinks about Dean fucking her, his hard cock buried deep inside of her, making her squeal like that and his cock gets hard. He touches his crotch rubbing his hand over the hard lump alongside of his thigh.
When Dean changes positions and flips her over Sam gets a good view of Dean’s cock and instead of being turned off, he gets harder. He swallows hard as he watches Dean stroke it before putting it inside of her again, his naked ass thrusting forward as he pumps into her and instead of being mortified Sam can’t stop watching his brother fuck some random chick.
His cock is impossibly hard by this point, he wants to stroke it off but he’s well aware of the fact that he’s outside peering into the room like a peeping Tom. His hearing is ultra sensitive as not to be caught so when he hears the sound of a doorknob turning, he quickly turns around and sits back down on the cement slab outside of the door. He pulls his hoodie down to hide the obscene bulge in his jeans.
A man comes out of the room a few doors up, he smiles at Sam. “Waiting for someone,” he asks with a kind voice.
“Kind of,” Sam’s aloof.
“Anyone in particular,” the man starts to walk towards Sam.
Sam gets the idea this man wants something from him. “Yeah, my brother, he’s in there with his girlfriend,” he stands up making sure to keep his hood pulled down. The man is making him feel uneasy.
“Oh that’s a shame,” he says inching even closer. “You could come in my room and wait,” he smiles a lascivious smile.
Sam gets it now; this guy is hitting on him. “Nah that’s okay,” he’s trying nicely to keep from beating the crap out of this guy.
“That’s a shame, you shouldn’t have to wait for him all alone out here while he does whatever it is he’s doing,” the man licks his lips as he looks Sam up and down.
“Look mister, I’m only 16 and you are not my type,” he’s about ready to beat on the door and get Dean out here to help him handle this creep.
“Sixteen huh,” the man licks his lips again as his smile grows. “Oh well, not your type huh,” he turns around to leave and then turns back. “I have cash,” he adds to try and sweeten the pot.
Sam balls his hands into fists as he squints making the hardest most upset expression he can manage, before coldly replying. “I’m not for hire.”
The man shrugs and turns away. “Too bad, you’ve got a tight body,” he gets into his car and leaves.
Sam’s heart is racing, the sounds of Dean and the chick are echoing through the walls and he’s lost his hard on completely.
When the door opens Sam’s sitting on the stoop. Dean looks down at him. “How long have you been out here?”
“Long enough,” he stands up and pushes past Dean to get into the room. He turns around and sees Dean counting out money from a wad he pulled from his pocket and hand it to the chick before she leaves.
Dean clears his throat as he shuts the door. “Sorry Sammy, I didn’t know you would be back so soon,” he busies himself by pulling the covers up on his bed.
“Hooker I presume,” is all Sam says, a little bit of jealousy creeping up in his voice.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Dean’s refusing to answer Sam’s question.
They don’t need anymore awkward moments between them than have already been created.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam’s brain runs all night long, he tosses and turns, head full of thoughts about how the man hit on him, offered him money to have sex with him. He wonders if he really is that attractive or was the guy just perverted.
With virtually no sleep he stares at himself in the mirror and tilts his head back and makes sexy eyes, sucks his cheeks in like a model and wonders what the appeal is.
“Trying out for Next Top Model,” Dean asks as he passes the bathroom doorway.
“Fuck you Dean,” Sam scolds before slamming the door in his face.
They’re checking into another sleazy motel and Sam’s waiting by the Impala. He’s leaning up against it with his arms folded when he notices an older guy eyeing him up, at first he tries to ignore him but the man’s gaze is persistent. He straightens up and looks around; making sure Dean and John aren’t around to notice his actions. He smiles at the man and then looks away. He’s not sure how this whole flirtation thing works but he knows he’s damned nervous about it. The man smiles back as he’s licking his lips seductively before winking. Sam doesn’t know how to respond so he just nods and smiles again.
The man is walking over when John and Dean come out of the motel office. Sam straightens up and grabs the duffel bags at his feet while completely ignoring the approaching man. He walks over and meets them on the motel walkway; the man takes the hint and aborts his plans to approach Sam, looking rather dejected.
A few days later Sam is with Dean as he hustles pool at a local bar, he goes outside to get some fresh air as the cigarettes are making him sick. He’s leaning against the lamp post outside of the entrance when a man approaches him. “How much for a blowjob?”
“Me,” Sam looks around confused.
“No other rent boys hanging around,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money ready to pay for the act.
“I’m not what you think I am,” Sam says turning to leave.
“Could have fooled me with a mouth like that,” the man says grabbing Sam’s arm.
“You don’t want to tangle with me mister,” Sam shrugs his hand off of his arm. “Best keep moving if you want to keep your fingers,” he opens the door to the bar and goes back inside. He finds Dean still shooting pool and sits on the barstool next to the scoreboard. This is the very moment when he makes the decision to sell his self for money.
Dean goes out for the night and Sam decides this is the first night he’s going to put himself out there for hire. He pulls on his tightest t-shirt and pulls his jeans down off of his hips, just enough that he’s showing the thin line of hair from his navel to his pubic line. He looks at his moppy hair in the mirror and messes it up with his fingers. He’s still not satisfied so he uses some of Dean’s hair gel and runs it through his shaggy locks giving himself the oh so popular bed head look. He uses a cherry chap stick he has stuffed in his duffel bag to make his lips glisten just enough and debates eyeliner but decides against it since he doesn’t have one.
He walks up to the bar where he was hit on the other night and poses under the streetlamp. Sure he knows its cliché but where else do hookers wait but outside bars or under streetlamps.
Neither John nor Dean is there when he gets back to the motel. He looks in the long mirror on the bathroom door and is amazed at how wrecked he looks. His hair is an awful mess, his lips are bruised red and blue from over use, the button on his jeans has been torn off, the sleeve on his t-shirt is torn at the seam and he’s not quite sure where or when he lost his right sneaker. Most of the night is a giant blur of multiple backseats and cold wet alleyways bleeding through his jeans to his knees.
He pulls a wad of rolled up bills from his pocket and stares at the cold hard cash. He’s not really sure if it’s enough for what he just put himself through but it’s enough to encourage him to do it again tomorrow night.
He hears the Impala pull into the parking lot; he’s heard that muffler a thousand times so he locks himself in the bathroom until he can pull himself together.
He’s soaking his aching body in the tub when Dean just walks in, doesn’t bother knocking just picks the lock and walks in. “Got to piss,” he says pulling out his cock and draining it without apology. “Too many beers,” he winks at Sam.
“Are you alone,” Sam asks, staring at Dean’s cock.
Dean shakes it off and tucks it away. “Yeah, just gonna crash,” he dips his hands in Sam’s warm bath water and then wipes them on his shirt.
“I’m glad, don’t want to have to hide in here for an hour while you did your thing,” he sinks down deeper into the water.
“Not a problem tonight,” Dean says as he walks out.
The next night Sam’s antsy; Dean’s still at the motel watching tv so he can’t slip out and make some cash.
“So, got any plans tonight?”
Dean looks up and shrugs. “Nope, nothing,” he looks back at the TV.
Sam can’t think of a reason to be leaving because what does a sixteen year old do after ten o’clock on a Tuesday night that would make him leave the motel, he doesn’t have friends to visit. “I think I’m gonna get some air,” he says stretching.
Dean doesn’t look over at him. “Have fun.”
He’s walking across the parking lot when a car pulls up, the man rolls down the window and Sam leans in. “Need something mister,” he asks with a sly grin and sultry tone. It’s almost old hat to him now, one night of putting out and he’s acting like a pro.
When the movies over Dean notices that Sam’s not back yet, he calls his cell phone but no answer. “Damn it Sammy,” he curses when the voicemail picks up.
Sam stumbles in about twenty minutes later visibly intoxicated. “Where the fuck have you been,” Dean yells at him.
Sam laughs as he sways from side to side, his eyes are half lidded and he has a silly grin on his face. “Nowhere,” he drops down on the edge of the bed.
Walking over to confront him Dean shakes his head at the smell. “Jesus Christ Sammy you smell like booze and sloppy sex.”
Sam’s so drunk he’s oblivious. “So, what about it,” he falls back on the bed, his jeans are still unzipped and there is a bright red hickey on his belly.
“What have you been doing,” Dean asks with concern. “You’re fucking bruised up.”
Sam laughs. “Fucking is exactly right.”
“Right Sam, who have you been fucking,” he sits down next to Sam and looks at him with disbelief.
“What, you don’t believe me,” he sits up and looks Dean in the eyes as his float around from his drunken state.
“Well,” he doesn’t get a chance to finish.
“Everyone and anyone who’ll pay the price,” Sam pulls a handful of wrinkled up bills from his pocket and throws them at Dean. “See,” he says taunting Dean.
“Fuck Sammy,” Dean grabs the money from the bed and looks at it. “Are you fucking selling your body,” he’s mad, confused and bewildered all at once.
“I’ve got to earn my own money, Dean. The way we move from town to town, I need a transit skill and guess what, sucking dick is my awesome skill.”
“You’re sucking cock,” Dean stands up and looks down at Sam. “For money?”
“Didn’t I make that abundantly clear when I said my skill was sucking dick, cause if not let me put it more plainly,” his speech is slurred. “I suck cock or take cock for money.”
Dean’s so mad his face is red, he throws the wadded up money in Sam’s face, he leans down and looks him in the eyes. “You fucking whore,” he yells before grabbing his keys and leaving.
“Yeah that’s right, leave,” Sam yells after Dean before the door slams shut. He then immediately passes out.
When Sam wakes up from his coma induced sleep Dean’s sitting on a straight back chair, his arms folded across his chest staring at Sam. The wadded up money is laying on the nightstand, it’s been straightened out and piled neatly.
“What,” Sam says as he sits up on the edge of the bed. He barely remembers last night.
The last thing he remembers is drinking something with the guy in the car that picked him up in the parking lot and then everything is blurry until Dean is calling him a whore. He’s not sure if that part is real or a dream.
“It stops now Sammy,” Dean’s voice is harsh and commanding.
“What stops,” he’s now pretty sure that the whore part wasn’t a dream.
“You stop fucking for money of course,” Dean never stops looking at him.
Sam’s stomach drops, it’s like a hollow pit and if he wasn’t already nauseous this would definitely make him so. “I,” he tries to explain himself.
“Yeah, yeah, do it for the money,” Dean says standing up.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Sam starts to stand up but Dean pushes him back onto the bed.
“You don’t get to stand up; you don’t stand up for them. Maybe I should make you get on your knees instead, maybe your more comfortable on your knees, huh Sammy,” he’s staring Sam down.
“No Dean, wait you don’t,” he pleads with Dean.
“What understand? Shut the fuck up whore,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of rolled up money. “There’s a thousand dollars here,” he shoves it in Sam’s face.”
“Dean, what are you,” he thinks he understands but he’s not completely sure.
“I won it hustling pool last night after I left you. I needed to blow off steam, get over being mad at you but instead it put things in perspective for me.”
“But Dean.”
“I said shut up,” he takes Sam’s cheeks and holds them tight. “Those lips are good for one thing only and talking isn’t one of them,” he lets go of Sam’s face. “Now like I was saying, I knew I was mad because you’re hooking but what I didn’t understand was why it affected me the way it did,” he softens his voice a little. “See I’m jealous, jealous of all of those guys getting to touch you, letting you touch and suck them,” he lays the money on the nightstand.
“You don’t need,” he’s interrupted again.
“I don’t need to be jealous. Why shouldn’t I be jealous, they are allowed to do what I only dream of doing with you?”
Sam looks up with surprise, he knows what he wants from Dean but he never imagined that Dean wanted the same thing. “You..” Dean puts his hand over Sam’s mouth.
“Don’t say it,” he commands. He picks the money up and shoves it in Sam’s face. “If I’m going to get my fantasy, I am going to pay you for it like every other man you’ve been with.”
“No Dean, please,” there is a tear in Sam’s eye, not of sadness but of love, to be getting what he’s been wanting. “You don’t have to pay money for me to want you,” Sam reaches out and touches Dean’s hip, pulls on it tugging him in closer. “I want you Dean and you don’t have to pay me.”
“You always pay a whore,” his voice is dark and commanding. His cock is hard against his zipper line, he reaches down and opens it pulling his hard cock out and thrusting his hips towards Sam. “What does a thousand get me?”
Sam looks up at him; Dean’s eyes are dark with lust, darker than the men who pay him for the favors. “Anything you want,” he says licking his lips.
“Then I want it all,” Dean’s hands tangle in Sam’s hair as he pulls his head forward. “We’ll start off with a nice slow blowjob.”
Sam doesn’t say a word just obediently takes Dean’s cock by the shaft and leans in to it, his tongue slipping over the soft flushed red head. He laves over the slit with the flat of his tongue letting the salty bitter precome paint a stripe down the center. He loves the taste of Dean, not all men taste alike and most don’t taste good at all but Dean tastes like the ocean, salty and bitter but good and clean.
Dean watches every tongue swipe, the sensation of Sam’s mouth is better than any blowjob he’s ever had. “Fuck yeah Sammy, you are a pro,” he moans breathlessly.
This is Sam’s cue to go down, to take it all the way to back of his throat and push Dean to the edge. He does, lets the spongy head slide across his tongue until it hits the back of his throat and then he swallows opening up the muscles so that he can take it even deeper past the ridges and bury his nose in the soft pubic curls at its base.
“Holy shit,” Dean cries out as his head breaches the back of Sam’s throat. He wants to buck, to fuck his face with intense force but he holds back. Dean tightens his grip on the back of Sam’s head, guiding him up and down on his cock.
Sam’s moaning, trying to move his tongue over Dean’s swollen shaft as it slides in and out. He’s so fucking turned on, so fucking hot for Dean. He never gets hot with his John’s never wants any of them, he calls them perverts in his mind while he’s pleasuring them, but this is totally different. Even the fact that Dean’s thrusts are gagging him; making tears come to his eyes doesn’t change the intensity of the hard on raging inside of his boxer shorts.
Suddenly Dean pulls out, his cock is sloppy wet with Sam’s saliva, he looks at it glistening and dripping before he runs his hand down the shaft and over the head squeezing tight as if he’s trying to hold back his orgasm. “Now I’m going to fuck you, show you what a real man feels like,” Dean’s voice is gruff, not an ounce of tenderness in it at all.
Sam’s eager, he wants Dean in his ass, wants him to fill him up and make him come too. He shucks his shorts and turns over on the bed, his ass up in the air, the hard on between his legs dangling down.
“You’re fucking hard,” Dean says with a smirk. “You get hard for all the men,” he wants to know how much of a cock slut Sam really is.
“Only for you Dean,” he says looking over his shoulder at him slicking his cock up with lube from the nightstand.
“I guess I’ll prep you even though you ass looks stretched enough,” Dean says as he roughly stuffs two fingers inside of Sam’s tight hole and starts to twist them as he thrusts.
Sam’s body instinctively reacts, it feels so good, so much better than when he’s with anyone else, the tight burn of Dean’s thick fingers fucking his ass to open him up, his mind goes blank as he thrusts into them.
“Yeah want my fucking cock, want me to split you wide open and claim you as mine,” Dean growls with a guttural roughness. He pulls his fingers out and strokes his cock before lining it up. Sam’s ass is flexing as he pushes relentlessly inside, not taking his time, not going slow and easing the head inside but forcing his way inside.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sam moans as his tries hard not to clench his ass. It hurts more than the first time he let anyone do it, but then again Dean’s definitely bigger. He relaxes when he feels Dean slow down as he bottoms out, the head pressing on his prostate sending shockwaves through his body.
“Like that Sammy, feel good to be forced open,” he leans forward and whispers into Sam’s ear. “Want more of me?”
Sam’s body reacts, bucks slightly telling Dean to fuck him. “Yes, get yourself off on me,” he moans.
Dean runs his fingers through Sam’s hair and grabs hold like reins on a horse. “You bet your tight sweet ass I will,” he starts to buck into Sam, thrusting hard and grunting with each push in, each pull longer until he’s ready to pop out and then thrusting back inside as deep as he can go.
“Fuck yeah,” Sam’s voice is broken, his throat raw from Dean’s cock stretching it open and now he’s pounding his ass open too. His cock is jerking with each of Dean’s thrusts as he hammers over his prostate, and his cock is leaking profusely. He wants to touch it, to get off and collapse onto the bed with Dean buried deep inside of him but this is about Dean’s pleasure not his.
Pumping in and out, getting closer to his edge Dean snakes his free hand around and grabs hold of Sam’s hard cock and starts to jerk him off. “Like this, anyone else ever jerk you off while they fucked you,” he grunts.
“No Dean, only you. Want you to get me off,” Sam pants as he pushes into Dean’s cock and hand. “Make me come,” he’s impossibly close to coming.
“Then fucking come you little slut,” he commands.
It’s only seconds after that, that Sam comes hard over Dean’s hand. His ass tightens as he comes but Dean continues to pump relentlessly into it. His body is shaking from head to toe and he has to fight to keep the strength not to collapse beneath Dean’s forceful weight.
He lets go of Sam’s cock focusing on the deep thrusts and how Sam’s ass feels clenched around his cock. It’s only a few more pushes and he’s spilling out hot into him. “Oh Fuck Yeah,” he screams as his whole body shutters with the intense orgasm.
They fall forward the intensity of the orgasms too overwhelming. Dean’s face planted by Sam’s ear, their bodies panting and sweaty, satiated beyond any doubt by the pleasure.
“Promise me you’ll never whore yourself out again,” Dean says to Sam.
Sam thinks about it for a brief second before answering. “Never Dean,” he says quietly.
“Because you’re mine now and I am not sharing you with anyone, for love or money, ever,” his hand snakes around Sam’s waist to hold him as tight as possible.
“Always gonna be yours now from now on,” Sam’s hand finding Dean’s tucked under his body and interlacing their fingers. “I’ll never let anyone else touch me for love or money again.”
“Good,” Dean says kissing softly at the back of Sam’s neck.
>The End
Author: Dolavine
Pairing: Sam and Dean Winchester
Rating: Nc-17 for sex
Word Count: 4,168
Warnings: Sam’s 16 (not exactly a child but if it squicks it’s warned for)
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys; this is but a figment of my imagination. Erik Kripke owns the boys not me; I just borrow them for sexing.
Summary: Sam turns tricks to make a few bucks, when Dean finds out he buys him for himself and discovers it’s more than to teach Sam a lesson.
A/N: Written for icelily01 for the iluvkinkythings J2 and Supernatural Hooker fic meme. Thank you to my magnificent beta memoonster yet again for a job well done and keeping me in line. ;)
PDF: AO3
Prompt: Sam(16ish) decides that it's time he starts pulling his weight, helping bring in money like his dad does with credit card scams and Dean does hustling pool. But when he chooses to start selling his body for it, Dean refuses to let that happen. He tracks Sam down and buys him himself so that no one else can have him. (Throw in whatever kinks you like and bonus points for starting with angst and ending with a little schmoop.)
Sam’s tired of not having any money and living on nothing but stolen credit cards and Dean’s spoils from billiards and dart hustling. He doesn’t have the special skills that Dean has and there is no use using more identity theft because they already have more identities than they need.
He wants to work, he’s sixteen now and over the years has tried different jobs like mowing lawns or helping people do things for a little extra cash but it never brings in much more than fifty bucks before they have to move on. The main problem with this whole trying to earn an honest living is, they never stay in any one place long enough to do it. He needs a job that he can do wherever they happen to be, that is versatile and that he will enjoy.
It’s late when Sam heads back down the corridor to their motel room; he’s been earning a little extra by helping the maid clean up a room that was trashed by a psychopath a few nights prior. He sees the Impala’s gone but the light is on in the room, he peeks in the window finding an opening between the curtains and fixes his vision on the tiny slip of room he can see.
He sees movement so he focuses harder, he sees Dean’s naked body writhing on the bed, and he knows what’s happening. Dean’s found a bimbo and brought her back to the room since their dad’s out hunting something.
Sitting on the cement outside of the window he can hear moaning, Dean’s deep voice making guttural noises so he stands back up and peeks through the window again. He can’t see much but breasts bobbing up and down since the bimbo is riding Dean but he can’t help but keep watching. He licks his lips as his breathing gets faster, his face is pressed against the screen as he thinks about Dean fucking her, his hard cock buried deep inside of her, making her squeal like that and his cock gets hard. He touches his crotch rubbing his hand over the hard lump alongside of his thigh.
When Dean changes positions and flips her over Sam gets a good view of Dean’s cock and instead of being turned off, he gets harder. He swallows hard as he watches Dean stroke it before putting it inside of her again, his naked ass thrusting forward as he pumps into her and instead of being mortified Sam can’t stop watching his brother fuck some random chick.
His cock is impossibly hard by this point, he wants to stroke it off but he’s well aware of the fact that he’s outside peering into the room like a peeping Tom. His hearing is ultra sensitive as not to be caught so when he hears the sound of a doorknob turning, he quickly turns around and sits back down on the cement slab outside of the door. He pulls his hoodie down to hide the obscene bulge in his jeans.
A man comes out of the room a few doors up, he smiles at Sam. “Waiting for someone,” he asks with a kind voice.
“Kind of,” Sam’s aloof.
“Anyone in particular,” the man starts to walk towards Sam.
Sam gets the idea this man wants something from him. “Yeah, my brother, he’s in there with his girlfriend,” he stands up making sure to keep his hood pulled down. The man is making him feel uneasy.
“Oh that’s a shame,” he says inching even closer. “You could come in my room and wait,” he smiles a lascivious smile.
Sam gets it now; this guy is hitting on him. “Nah that’s okay,” he’s trying nicely to keep from beating the crap out of this guy.
“That’s a shame, you shouldn’t have to wait for him all alone out here while he does whatever it is he’s doing,” the man licks his lips as he looks Sam up and down.
“Look mister, I’m only 16 and you are not my type,” he’s about ready to beat on the door and get Dean out here to help him handle this creep.
“Sixteen huh,” the man licks his lips again as his smile grows. “Oh well, not your type huh,” he turns around to leave and then turns back. “I have cash,” he adds to try and sweeten the pot.
Sam balls his hands into fists as he squints making the hardest most upset expression he can manage, before coldly replying. “I’m not for hire.”
The man shrugs and turns away. “Too bad, you’ve got a tight body,” he gets into his car and leaves.
Sam’s heart is racing, the sounds of Dean and the chick are echoing through the walls and he’s lost his hard on completely.
When the door opens Sam’s sitting on the stoop. Dean looks down at him. “How long have you been out here?”
“Long enough,” he stands up and pushes past Dean to get into the room. He turns around and sees Dean counting out money from a wad he pulled from his pocket and hand it to the chick before she leaves.
Dean clears his throat as he shuts the door. “Sorry Sammy, I didn’t know you would be back so soon,” he busies himself by pulling the covers up on his bed.
“Hooker I presume,” is all Sam says, a little bit of jealousy creeping up in his voice.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Dean’s refusing to answer Sam’s question.
They don’t need anymore awkward moments between them than have already been created.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam’s brain runs all night long, he tosses and turns, head full of thoughts about how the man hit on him, offered him money to have sex with him. He wonders if he really is that attractive or was the guy just perverted.
With virtually no sleep he stares at himself in the mirror and tilts his head back and makes sexy eyes, sucks his cheeks in like a model and wonders what the appeal is.
“Trying out for Next Top Model,” Dean asks as he passes the bathroom doorway.
“Fuck you Dean,” Sam scolds before slamming the door in his face.
They’re checking into another sleazy motel and Sam’s waiting by the Impala. He’s leaning up against it with his arms folded when he notices an older guy eyeing him up, at first he tries to ignore him but the man’s gaze is persistent. He straightens up and looks around; making sure Dean and John aren’t around to notice his actions. He smiles at the man and then looks away. He’s not sure how this whole flirtation thing works but he knows he’s damned nervous about it. The man smiles back as he’s licking his lips seductively before winking. Sam doesn’t know how to respond so he just nods and smiles again.
The man is walking over when John and Dean come out of the motel office. Sam straightens up and grabs the duffel bags at his feet while completely ignoring the approaching man. He walks over and meets them on the motel walkway; the man takes the hint and aborts his plans to approach Sam, looking rather dejected.
A few days later Sam is with Dean as he hustles pool at a local bar, he goes outside to get some fresh air as the cigarettes are making him sick. He’s leaning against the lamp post outside of the entrance when a man approaches him. “How much for a blowjob?”
“Me,” Sam looks around confused.
“No other rent boys hanging around,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money ready to pay for the act.
“I’m not what you think I am,” Sam says turning to leave.
“Could have fooled me with a mouth like that,” the man says grabbing Sam’s arm.
“You don’t want to tangle with me mister,” Sam shrugs his hand off of his arm. “Best keep moving if you want to keep your fingers,” he opens the door to the bar and goes back inside. He finds Dean still shooting pool and sits on the barstool next to the scoreboard. This is the very moment when he makes the decision to sell his self for money.
Dean goes out for the night and Sam decides this is the first night he’s going to put himself out there for hire. He pulls on his tightest t-shirt and pulls his jeans down off of his hips, just enough that he’s showing the thin line of hair from his navel to his pubic line. He looks at his moppy hair in the mirror and messes it up with his fingers. He’s still not satisfied so he uses some of Dean’s hair gel and runs it through his shaggy locks giving himself the oh so popular bed head look. He uses a cherry chap stick he has stuffed in his duffel bag to make his lips glisten just enough and debates eyeliner but decides against it since he doesn’t have one.
He walks up to the bar where he was hit on the other night and poses under the streetlamp. Sure he knows its cliché but where else do hookers wait but outside bars or under streetlamps.
Neither John nor Dean is there when he gets back to the motel. He looks in the long mirror on the bathroom door and is amazed at how wrecked he looks. His hair is an awful mess, his lips are bruised red and blue from over use, the button on his jeans has been torn off, the sleeve on his t-shirt is torn at the seam and he’s not quite sure where or when he lost his right sneaker. Most of the night is a giant blur of multiple backseats and cold wet alleyways bleeding through his jeans to his knees.
He pulls a wad of rolled up bills from his pocket and stares at the cold hard cash. He’s not really sure if it’s enough for what he just put himself through but it’s enough to encourage him to do it again tomorrow night.
He hears the Impala pull into the parking lot; he’s heard that muffler a thousand times so he locks himself in the bathroom until he can pull himself together.
He’s soaking his aching body in the tub when Dean just walks in, doesn’t bother knocking just picks the lock and walks in. “Got to piss,” he says pulling out his cock and draining it without apology. “Too many beers,” he winks at Sam.
“Are you alone,” Sam asks, staring at Dean’s cock.
Dean shakes it off and tucks it away. “Yeah, just gonna crash,” he dips his hands in Sam’s warm bath water and then wipes them on his shirt.
“I’m glad, don’t want to have to hide in here for an hour while you did your thing,” he sinks down deeper into the water.
“Not a problem tonight,” Dean says as he walks out.
The next night Sam’s antsy; Dean’s still at the motel watching tv so he can’t slip out and make some cash.
“So, got any plans tonight?”
Dean looks up and shrugs. “Nope, nothing,” he looks back at the TV.
Sam can’t think of a reason to be leaving because what does a sixteen year old do after ten o’clock on a Tuesday night that would make him leave the motel, he doesn’t have friends to visit. “I think I’m gonna get some air,” he says stretching.
Dean doesn’t look over at him. “Have fun.”
He’s walking across the parking lot when a car pulls up, the man rolls down the window and Sam leans in. “Need something mister,” he asks with a sly grin and sultry tone. It’s almost old hat to him now, one night of putting out and he’s acting like a pro.
When the movies over Dean notices that Sam’s not back yet, he calls his cell phone but no answer. “Damn it Sammy,” he curses when the voicemail picks up.
Sam stumbles in about twenty minutes later visibly intoxicated. “Where the fuck have you been,” Dean yells at him.
Sam laughs as he sways from side to side, his eyes are half lidded and he has a silly grin on his face. “Nowhere,” he drops down on the edge of the bed.
Walking over to confront him Dean shakes his head at the smell. “Jesus Christ Sammy you smell like booze and sloppy sex.”
Sam’s so drunk he’s oblivious. “So, what about it,” he falls back on the bed, his jeans are still unzipped and there is a bright red hickey on his belly.
“What have you been doing,” Dean asks with concern. “You’re fucking bruised up.”
Sam laughs. “Fucking is exactly right.”
“Right Sam, who have you been fucking,” he sits down next to Sam and looks at him with disbelief.
“What, you don’t believe me,” he sits up and looks Dean in the eyes as his float around from his drunken state.
“Well,” he doesn’t get a chance to finish.
“Everyone and anyone who’ll pay the price,” Sam pulls a handful of wrinkled up bills from his pocket and throws them at Dean. “See,” he says taunting Dean.
“Fuck Sammy,” Dean grabs the money from the bed and looks at it. “Are you fucking selling your body,” he’s mad, confused and bewildered all at once.
“I’ve got to earn my own money, Dean. The way we move from town to town, I need a transit skill and guess what, sucking dick is my awesome skill.”
“You’re sucking cock,” Dean stands up and looks down at Sam. “For money?”
“Didn’t I make that abundantly clear when I said my skill was sucking dick, cause if not let me put it more plainly,” his speech is slurred. “I suck cock or take cock for money.”
Dean’s so mad his face is red, he throws the wadded up money in Sam’s face, he leans down and looks him in the eyes. “You fucking whore,” he yells before grabbing his keys and leaving.
“Yeah that’s right, leave,” Sam yells after Dean before the door slams shut. He then immediately passes out.
When Sam wakes up from his coma induced sleep Dean’s sitting on a straight back chair, his arms folded across his chest staring at Sam. The wadded up money is laying on the nightstand, it’s been straightened out and piled neatly.
“What,” Sam says as he sits up on the edge of the bed. He barely remembers last night.
The last thing he remembers is drinking something with the guy in the car that picked him up in the parking lot and then everything is blurry until Dean is calling him a whore. He’s not sure if that part is real or a dream.
“It stops now Sammy,” Dean’s voice is harsh and commanding.
“What stops,” he’s now pretty sure that the whore part wasn’t a dream.
“You stop fucking for money of course,” Dean never stops looking at him.
Sam’s stomach drops, it’s like a hollow pit and if he wasn’t already nauseous this would definitely make him so. “I,” he tries to explain himself.
“Yeah, yeah, do it for the money,” Dean says standing up.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Sam starts to stand up but Dean pushes him back onto the bed.
“You don’t get to stand up; you don’t stand up for them. Maybe I should make you get on your knees instead, maybe your more comfortable on your knees, huh Sammy,” he’s staring Sam down.
“No Dean, wait you don’t,” he pleads with Dean.
“What understand? Shut the fuck up whore,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of rolled up money. “There’s a thousand dollars here,” he shoves it in Sam’s face.”
“Dean, what are you,” he thinks he understands but he’s not completely sure.
“I won it hustling pool last night after I left you. I needed to blow off steam, get over being mad at you but instead it put things in perspective for me.”
“But Dean.”
“I said shut up,” he takes Sam’s cheeks and holds them tight. “Those lips are good for one thing only and talking isn’t one of them,” he lets go of Sam’s face. “Now like I was saying, I knew I was mad because you’re hooking but what I didn’t understand was why it affected me the way it did,” he softens his voice a little. “See I’m jealous, jealous of all of those guys getting to touch you, letting you touch and suck them,” he lays the money on the nightstand.
“You don’t need,” he’s interrupted again.
“I don’t need to be jealous. Why shouldn’t I be jealous, they are allowed to do what I only dream of doing with you?”
Sam looks up with surprise, he knows what he wants from Dean but he never imagined that Dean wanted the same thing. “You..” Dean puts his hand over Sam’s mouth.
“Don’t say it,” he commands. He picks the money up and shoves it in Sam’s face. “If I’m going to get my fantasy, I am going to pay you for it like every other man you’ve been with.”
“No Dean, please,” there is a tear in Sam’s eye, not of sadness but of love, to be getting what he’s been wanting. “You don’t have to pay money for me to want you,” Sam reaches out and touches Dean’s hip, pulls on it tugging him in closer. “I want you Dean and you don’t have to pay me.”
“You always pay a whore,” his voice is dark and commanding. His cock is hard against his zipper line, he reaches down and opens it pulling his hard cock out and thrusting his hips towards Sam. “What does a thousand get me?”
Sam looks up at him; Dean’s eyes are dark with lust, darker than the men who pay him for the favors. “Anything you want,” he says licking his lips.
“Then I want it all,” Dean’s hands tangle in Sam’s hair as he pulls his head forward. “We’ll start off with a nice slow blowjob.”
Sam doesn’t say a word just obediently takes Dean’s cock by the shaft and leans in to it, his tongue slipping over the soft flushed red head. He laves over the slit with the flat of his tongue letting the salty bitter precome paint a stripe down the center. He loves the taste of Dean, not all men taste alike and most don’t taste good at all but Dean tastes like the ocean, salty and bitter but good and clean.
Dean watches every tongue swipe, the sensation of Sam’s mouth is better than any blowjob he’s ever had. “Fuck yeah Sammy, you are a pro,” he moans breathlessly.
This is Sam’s cue to go down, to take it all the way to back of his throat and push Dean to the edge. He does, lets the spongy head slide across his tongue until it hits the back of his throat and then he swallows opening up the muscles so that he can take it even deeper past the ridges and bury his nose in the soft pubic curls at its base.
“Holy shit,” Dean cries out as his head breaches the back of Sam’s throat. He wants to buck, to fuck his face with intense force but he holds back. Dean tightens his grip on the back of Sam’s head, guiding him up and down on his cock.
Sam’s moaning, trying to move his tongue over Dean’s swollen shaft as it slides in and out. He’s so fucking turned on, so fucking hot for Dean. He never gets hot with his John’s never wants any of them, he calls them perverts in his mind while he’s pleasuring them, but this is totally different. Even the fact that Dean’s thrusts are gagging him; making tears come to his eyes doesn’t change the intensity of the hard on raging inside of his boxer shorts.
Suddenly Dean pulls out, his cock is sloppy wet with Sam’s saliva, he looks at it glistening and dripping before he runs his hand down the shaft and over the head squeezing tight as if he’s trying to hold back his orgasm. “Now I’m going to fuck you, show you what a real man feels like,” Dean’s voice is gruff, not an ounce of tenderness in it at all.
Sam’s eager, he wants Dean in his ass, wants him to fill him up and make him come too. He shucks his shorts and turns over on the bed, his ass up in the air, the hard on between his legs dangling down.
“You’re fucking hard,” Dean says with a smirk. “You get hard for all the men,” he wants to know how much of a cock slut Sam really is.
“Only for you Dean,” he says looking over his shoulder at him slicking his cock up with lube from the nightstand.
“I guess I’ll prep you even though you ass looks stretched enough,” Dean says as he roughly stuffs two fingers inside of Sam’s tight hole and starts to twist them as he thrusts.
Sam’s body instinctively reacts, it feels so good, so much better than when he’s with anyone else, the tight burn of Dean’s thick fingers fucking his ass to open him up, his mind goes blank as he thrusts into them.
“Yeah want my fucking cock, want me to split you wide open and claim you as mine,” Dean growls with a guttural roughness. He pulls his fingers out and strokes his cock before lining it up. Sam’s ass is flexing as he pushes relentlessly inside, not taking his time, not going slow and easing the head inside but forcing his way inside.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sam moans as his tries hard not to clench his ass. It hurts more than the first time he let anyone do it, but then again Dean’s definitely bigger. He relaxes when he feels Dean slow down as he bottoms out, the head pressing on his prostate sending shockwaves through his body.
“Like that Sammy, feel good to be forced open,” he leans forward and whispers into Sam’s ear. “Want more of me?”
Sam’s body reacts, bucks slightly telling Dean to fuck him. “Yes, get yourself off on me,” he moans.
Dean runs his fingers through Sam’s hair and grabs hold like reins on a horse. “You bet your tight sweet ass I will,” he starts to buck into Sam, thrusting hard and grunting with each push in, each pull longer until he’s ready to pop out and then thrusting back inside as deep as he can go.
“Fuck yeah,” Sam’s voice is broken, his throat raw from Dean’s cock stretching it open and now he’s pounding his ass open too. His cock is jerking with each of Dean’s thrusts as he hammers over his prostate, and his cock is leaking profusely. He wants to touch it, to get off and collapse onto the bed with Dean buried deep inside of him but this is about Dean’s pleasure not his.
Pumping in and out, getting closer to his edge Dean snakes his free hand around and grabs hold of Sam’s hard cock and starts to jerk him off. “Like this, anyone else ever jerk you off while they fucked you,” he grunts.
“No Dean, only you. Want you to get me off,” Sam pants as he pushes into Dean’s cock and hand. “Make me come,” he’s impossibly close to coming.
“Then fucking come you little slut,” he commands.
It’s only seconds after that, that Sam comes hard over Dean’s hand. His ass tightens as he comes but Dean continues to pump relentlessly into it. His body is shaking from head to toe and he has to fight to keep the strength not to collapse beneath Dean’s forceful weight.
He lets go of Sam’s cock focusing on the deep thrusts and how Sam’s ass feels clenched around his cock. It’s only a few more pushes and he’s spilling out hot into him. “Oh Fuck Yeah,” he screams as his whole body shutters with the intense orgasm.
They fall forward the intensity of the orgasms too overwhelming. Dean’s face planted by Sam’s ear, their bodies panting and sweaty, satiated beyond any doubt by the pleasure.
“Promise me you’ll never whore yourself out again,” Dean says to Sam.
Sam thinks about it for a brief second before answering. “Never Dean,” he says quietly.
“Because you’re mine now and I am not sharing you with anyone, for love or money, ever,” his hand snakes around Sam’s waist to hold him as tight as possible.
“Always gonna be yours now from now on,” Sam’s hand finding Dean’s tucked under his body and interlacing their fingers. “I’ll never let anyone else touch me for love or money again.”
“Good,” Dean says kissing softly at the back of Sam’s neck.
>The End