every stone a story (Part Four), Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: every stone a story, Part Four ( link to Part One, Part Two, Part Three)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Pastor Jim, OMCs/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6086
Summary: Dean is a few months shy of seventeen when John is hurt in a car accident coming home from a hunt. The accident lands him in a coma and leaves Dean trying to find a way to support Sam when he can't reach their emergency contacts. What starts out as a seemingly simple job stripping turns into anything but and Dean finds himself in a game where the only card he has to play is his own body and the deck is stacked against him.
A/Ns & Warnings: For the exquisite katbcoll. Warnings include: under-age non-con, under-age prostitution, some violence. This was actually meant to be done in one part, but well...it ended up being longer than I thought...so I'm posting the next two parts ( 3 & 4) and I'll have to come back with the rest at a future time.
"Hey, Mustang."
Dean looked up from the job of covering the last of the bruises on his wrist. Sean was leaning on the door of the dressing room. "What?"
"Brought you something."
Dean frowned at him and went back to dabbing make-up over his wrist. "Unless it's pretty girl who wants to suck my cock, I'm not interested."
Sean came closer, shoving one of the other dancers out of his way. "Actually, it's just something to make that less work." He waved a hand at Dean's wrist. In that hand were two leather bands, thick enough to cover the marks the handcuffs had made.
Dean put down the make-up sponge and took the black leather from him. "Thanks." He settled one over the half covered wrist and snapped it shut. It was a perfect fit.
Sean smiled. "See, I knew they'd look great on you."
Dean didn't know why Sean was giving him gifts, but it beat the usual crap he got from the bouncer.
"I hear Charlie's giving you extra dances tonight."
"Yeah, well, someone's gotta cover for Matty, right?" Dean said, picking up the make-up sponge again to touch up the covering on the bruise on his side.
"Means more money, especially with the way you've been dancing lately."
Dean frowned harder. "No offense, dude, but seriously, do you want something?"
"Fuck you, man. I'm just trying to be nice."
"Cause you're a nice guy." Dean said, standing.
"I try to be."
Dean stepped in closer to him and dropped his voice. "Look, I appreciate the gesture, and these are cool, really. But I…" He stopped himself and licked his lips. He didn't need to be pissing this guy off. "I need to focus on getting ready. Can we talk later?"
Sean smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Good."
"I gotta get out to the door anyway."
Dean sighed as he walked away and set about finishing up. His face was much better and required a lot less work than the first few days after his special gig. Things had been okay, his father looked better every day, his nights hadn't been bad and he'd made decent money.
The dancing part was getting easier. He was more relaxed with it and he could almost forget the rest while he was on stage. And the rest had been slow since Friday night.
Pastor Jim would be showing up the next day, and with any luck the hospital would be releasing his father by the end of the week. He'd even stood on his own for a few minutes that afternoon, though he hadn't yet taken any steps without help.
He was going to survive this.
Four dances and nearly three hundred dollars later, Dean was changing back into his own clothes. It was the first night since his first that he hadn't had a single trip to the back room. Not that he was complaining.
There had been a group of young guys throwing around money that had tipped him well and the crowd had been much more civilized than usual. It was nearly two in the morning as he let himself out into the alley and headed for the car.
He had parked a few blocks away because the spots closer had all been taken and as he trudged through the snow, he got a feeling like he was being followed.
"Hey, Mustang." He stopped and turned. Three guys were coming at him, guys he vaguely recognized from the club. They had come in a few times, never tipped and usually heckled the dancers until Charlie had them thrown out.
"Look guys, it's late, and I'm tired." He turned around and kept walking.
"Hey! I'm talking to you."
Dean stopped when a hand caught his shoulder. "I don't want any trouble."
"Too bad for you." They moved in around him. "We just want a private little dance, Mustang." The speaker pulled out his wallet. "How much?"
"Look, guys…you want a dance, talk to Charlie. I don't freelance."
The biggest of the three stepped in close and Dean stepped back. He found his back pressed against the wall of the adult bookstore, surrounded. "Maybe we'll just get one for free."
Dean swallowed hard. He wasn't talking his way out of this. "There's no need to get violent." His hands fisted at his side, ready to do exactly that though as a hand grabbed his dick.
"I heard you like it rough," one of them said.
Dean punched the big guy in the stomach and bolted, but one of them caught him around the stomach and threw him into the wall. He kicked and hit, but he was out numbered and when one of them hit him in the ribs, he heard it before he felt it, falling and gasping for air.
He was being dragged into the alley, still fighting weakly as hands pulled at his jeans, then suddenly one pair of hands was gone. He curled up in a ball, covering his head as feet kicked at him, then there was a thud and yelling.
He looked up to find Sean beating down the big guy while the other two ran. Sean dropped the asshole and came toward Dean as he uncurled, then winced as pain radiated out from his side.
"You okay?" Sean asked as he knelt beside him.
"Yeah…no…" Dean lay back on the dirty concrete, holding his side. "Shit. I think something's broken."
"Hold still." Sean's fingers lifted Dean's shirt and he made a face before nodding. "That rib is probably cracked. Does anything else hurt?"
"Only everything." Dean said, reaching a hand up to be helped up. "Thank you."
Sean smiled and shook his head. "It's my job, looking after you. Besides…you left without saying goodbye." He helped Dean stand and steadied him. "I should probably take you to an ER, get that looked at."
Dean took a slow deep breath. It didn't hurt much, so he figured the break couldn't be more than a hairline. "I'll be fine."
"You keep saying that." Sean brushed at the dirt clinging to Dean's jacket.
"My brother…he's home alone…I need to get there."
Sean nodded. "Okay, but promise me you'll have it looked at before tomorrow night?"
Dean offered a smile. "Yeah, sure. When I go to the hospital to see my father."
For a minute, Dean thought Sean was going to kiss him, then Sean stepped back and waved at the street.
"I should go. Drive safe, the roads are icy."
"I will." He couldn't figure Sean out. One minute he was tough bouncer thug threatening to kick his ass for not following orders, next he was acting like he wanted to be Dean's friend…or something.
Dean brushed at the snow and dirt on his ass and headed for his car. He was getting tired of coming home sore and having to hide injuries from his brother. As he pulled into the driveway though he discovered it would be even harder. Jim's beat up truck was parked in front of the house.
He sat in the car for a few minutes, and when he moved to get out, he groaned with the pain radiating out from the rib. He tried to marshal his expression as he opened the front door, not surprised to find Jim on the couch.
"Hey."
Jim stood, eyes sweeping over him. "What happened to you?"
"I got jumped by a couple of assholes on my way to the car." Dean lied, shedding his coat and trying not to wince. He didn't fully succeed.
"You hurt?"
"Think they cracked a rib, but I'll be fine."
"You should let me have a look."
He knew better than to argue. "Yeah, give me a minute? I'm sticky and sweaty from work. Let me jump in the shower."
He had to get the make up off before Jim saw it. He might get away with a lot of shit with Sam, but Jim was going to see through stuff fast. He scrubbed down and got into his sweats, then stopped in to check on Sam.
By the time he got back to the living room, Jim had the lights on and his first aid kit rolled out on the coffee table. Dean didn't say anything. He just crossed the room and lifted his arm to give Jim a good view of his ribs.
Jim was quiet while he ran his fingers over the ribs. Dean winced when he found the one that was likely cracked. "Well, I think we should tape it up, just to be safe."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
"You going to tell me what the older bruising is from?"
"Fight a few nights ago." Dean responded.
"Sounds like a rough place, this job of yours."
"It's a bar." Dean responded as Jim got out the roll of medical tape. "It gets rowdy."
"I can see that." He finished taping Dean's chest and sighed. "I hear your daddy's doing better."
Dean nodded. "They got him up on his feet today. Doctor says that the test results are looking good…and that Dad is lucky."
"I don't know about lucky, but he's always been stubborn."
Dean smirked and nodded. "That he has. You gonna be okay on the couch? I'm wiped."
"Go on. I can take care of myself."
"Nice and easy now."
"Fuck you."
Dean smirked at the physical therapist who was trying to get his father back in the wheelchair.
"Mr. Winchester, you can't over do it. You need to rest."
"One more." John growled, inching the walker forward again even though he was leaning on it heavily and sweating with the exertion. He shuffled his feet forward one at a time, then cursed and shook his head. "Now…now."
He was shaking by the time the young man got the chair in position and put a hand on his back.
"I can get him back to his room." Dean said, knowing from the look on his father's face he was ready to tear the guy in two. He waited until the therapist was gone before he looked at his father. "You really shouldn't bully him. He's trying to help."
"The doctor won't let me go until I can do it without the walker. And I feel like a fucking old man."
Dean helped him put his feet on the foot rests of the chair, then got behind it and started to push him out of the therapy room. "You know, if you push too hard you could hurt yourself worse."
"You sound like your mother." John said.
"Well, she was a smart woman." Dean pushed him into the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. "Speaking of women, that nurse of yours is one hot-"
John raised a hand to cut him off. "Not a chance in hell."
"I'm just saying-"
John smiled up at him. "Trust me on this one. She likes older men."
Dean chuckled as the doors opened and pushed him out of the elevator, headed for his room. He was only partially surprised to find Sam and Jim there. Together, Jim and Dean got John back into his bed.
Dean stepped back. "Well, since my relief is here, I'm going to go. My boss has a party or something he wants me to work." He glanced at Jim, then Sam. "I'm going to be late, so don’t worry."
He hoped he sounded casual enough and didn’t look like he was sulking off to trade in his jeans and boots for a g-string and lube. Charlie had told him the night before that he would be working a special job. Like before, he’d offered Dean no indication of what the job was, just told him to get to the club by four thirty.
He parked on the side street near the club and trudged through the snow up to the alley. He was so early that the back door guard wasn’t even out yet. Dean let himself inside. He was alone, but not for long. Charlie appeared in the door not a minute later.
“Good, you’re here. Lets go.”
Dean didn’t argue, the sight of Matty broken and bleeding on the floor of the club still pretty fresh in his mind. Charlie led him out through the club and out the front door. There was a limo waiting. Charlie held the door open and Dean ducked his head to crawl inside. Charlie joined him and pulled the door shut, then knocked on the window.
“Where’s Sean?” Dean asked as they pulled out onto the street.
“You’ll see him later. He’s busy taking care of something for me.” Charlie responded. He opened a console under the window to the driver and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He half filled the glass and handed it to Dean. “Drink.”
Dean took the glass and looked at it, then up at Charlie. He really only gave Dean alcohol when he knew that what he was about to make Dean do would meet resistance.
“It wasn’t an offer Dean. Drink it now.”
Dean tipped it back, swallowing rapidly, then coughing a little. “Happy?”
He gave the glass back and glanced out the window. “Where are we going?”
“First, we’re stopping to visit a friend. I’ve got a little job for you there. Then I’ll take you to your special gig.”
The limo pulled up in front of a small house where Dean could see two of Charlie’s men sitting on the porch. Charlie opened the door and waited for Dean. As he stepped out of the car, Dean’s head was a little buzzy, far more than it should have been off one drink. Charlie’s hand fell on his shoulder, all hot and heavy and when his fingers brushed against Dean’s neck, the heat traveled.
Charlie kept a hand on him all the way into the house. Matty was sitting on the couch, his leg in plaster from toes to hip, his arm in a sling, his face still bruised. Dean stopped and looked to Charlie and then back.
“Why are we here?”
Charlie smiled. “Well, Dean, through that door is your job.”
Dean frowned at him, then looked at Matty, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What job?”
“In there is a young man who is naked and bound and waiting.”
Dean frowned harder. “What?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re going to go into that room and fuck him.”
Dean stepped back. “No, I’m not.” Matty stiffened. Charlie raised an eyebrow.
“Think carefully, Dean, before you say no to me.”
Dean felt the color drain from his face. Charlie stepped in, playing with the collar of Dean’s jacket. “It could easily be your brother in that room, Dean, instead of Matthew’s.”
Dean swallowed, closing his eyes.
“Now, Matthew understood the consequences of his refusing me. Do you understand the consequences if you do?”
Dean nodded slowly.
“Good. Give me your jacket, then go in there and do your job. And don’t think about lying.” He gestured at the television. “I’ll be watching. And I’ll be checking that you actually came too.”
“I…” Dean shook his head. “I don’t know if I can.”
Charlie smirked. “Don’t worry about that. The drug cocktail I gave you in that shot should take care of any issues you might have.”
Drug cocktail. That explained the dizziness and the flushing.
Dean pulled his jacket off and gave it to Charlie. He couldn’t look at Matty. He had no idea how he was going to go through with this. He opened the door and nearly closed it without walking in. He inhaled and stepped in, closing the door behind him.
The hood covered head lifted, turned his way. “Who…who’s there?”
Dean opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. He moved closer. “I…I’m here to…” What? What was he going to say to the kid? He couldn’t see the guy’s face to know how old he was, but he was going to guess older than Sam, but still younger than Dean.
He was kneeling on the bed, his hands tied with rope that ran under the head of the bed, came up at the other end and bound his ankles together. He couldn’t do this.
A flashing light caught his eye and he looked up at the camera mounted in the corner. He had no choice. Charlie was watching.
Dean put a hand on the kid’s back. “I don’t want to hurt you. Try to relax.”
“You’re going to…they said you were going to…”
“Shh.” Dean petted over his skin. “Easy. I don’t really have a choice here. If I don’t, they’ll hurt me and my brother.”
His hand swiped down lower, closer to the kid’s ass. “I don’t want to.” He whispered the words, daring a glance at the camera again. “I’m not even sure I can.” He unzipped his jeans, watching the kid start to tremble.
“Please….please don’t do this…”
Dean closed his eyes and turned away, pulling his cock out. He exhaled and focused on getting hard enough to do what he had to. Whatever drug was running through him seemed to do its job though and just fondling himself seemed to be enough. He let his jeans drop to the floor.
There was a bottle of lube on the night stand. Dean grabbed it and moved closer to the bed.
"Please…please…I won't tell them…I'll say you did it…just…just don't…please…"
"They're watching." Dean said, opening the lube. He needed to just get it over with. "Just…close your eyes and try not to tense up, it only gets worse. I'll try to make it fast."
He wet his fingers with lube, spilling it on the bed and his legs and cursing as he got a knee up beside the kid. His fingers shook as he rubbed them over the hole. The kid's body was trembling and it took Dean a minute to place the noise coming from him. He was crying.
The sound intensified as Dean pressed inward. He worked his finger in, and then out again. He got a second finger in and the kid yelled, then fell back to begging. "Please…please…"
Dean looked up at the camera, wanting to rip it off the wall, knowing that Charlie was out in the living room watching them, making Matty watch them. He stretched the kid open, wanting to do his best not to hurt him any more than was absolutely necessary.
"Okay, this is it…Just…take a deep breath, and let it out slow." Dean said, his voice pitched low. He reached for his cock, stroking it with his lube slick hand. It filled and hardened more than he thought it would under the circumstances and he brought it up, settling the head against the lubed up hole. "Now, breathe in."
He felt the kid inhale, and when he started to let it out, Dean pushed in. It was more than anyone had done for him, and he wasn't sure it actually would help, but it gave the kid something to do while Dean did the deed.
He was tight…tighter than the one chick he'd ever gotten into. His cock seemed to like it though and as he pulled out and started back in, he realized he wasn't going to have as a hard a time getting to orgasm as he'd thought. Probably whatever drugs Charlie had fed him doing their job.
The kid sobbed under him, the bed shaking as Dean hurried, finally feeling the start of it, building fast and hard and suddenly he was coming like he hadn't in months, emptying himself into the kid before he pulled back.
The kid collapsed forward as much as his bonds allowed, crying loudly now. Dean's cock was still hard, still dribbling come and he was suddenly going to be sick. He ran to the only open door in the room, into the bathroom.
He threw up into the toilet, retching long after his stomach was empty. It took him a few minutes to pull himself together, flush the toilet and rinse out his mouth. He used some toilet paper to wipe himself up, then went back to pull his jeans back on.
The crying had quieted some. Dean leaned in close. "I really…I'm sorry…"
The door opened and Charlie came in, grinning. "I knew you had it in you, Son."
"I told you, don't call me that." Dean growled, ready now to be as far away from the smug bastard as possible.
"That was pretty hot, Mustang. Makes me want to throw you down over his back and have my way with you."
"If that's what it takes to get us out of here." Dean said.
Charlie went to the bed and unceremoniously stuck two fingers into the kid's ass. "Very nice. I see the drugs are working." He wiped his hands on the bedspread. "Well then, lets you and I get on with our evening, shall we?"
"What about him?" Dean asked.
Charlie grabbed the back of his neck and shoved him toward the door. "Don't worry about him. Worry about you."
In the car, Charlie unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, shoving Dean to the floor. "Make yourself useful."
At least Dean had done this enough that he knew what he was doing. He knelt between Charlie's open legs and leveraged up enough to lick up his dick. Charlie didn't like a lot of playing around, and Dean got the impression that he would be pressed for time, so he closed his lips around Charlie's cock and pushed down, then slid up, setting up a pretty quick rhythm.
He knew Charlie was close when his hand pressed Dean's head down, and Dean had to swallow fast not to choke. Charlie handed him another half glass of the drug laced whiskey when he sat back.
"I don't think-"
"Drink it."
Dean took the glass while Charlie tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. A few seconds later the car was rolling to a stop and Charlie looked at Dean until he had downed the whiskey.
"Now then, you will keep your eyes on the floor. You will not speak. You will follow me and do as you are told."
"Yes sir." Dean responded, setting the glass down as Charlie got out of the car. Dean did exactly as he was told, though he stole glimpses of the elaborate yard and big house as he was led inside.
All around them people bustled and it was hard not to look up, especially because he felt like he could feel them looking at him. Then Charlie was reaching for him, pressing him in through a door.
"Ah, there you are, I was beginning to wonder."
Dean fought the urge to look up at the voice.
"Marsha, this is Mustang, my newest party boy. He is yours for the evening."
"Same terms as last time?"
Charlie's hand tightened on his neck, then stroked down over his back. "Standard price for each cock in his mouth or ass, an extra hundred each for any marks left on him."
Dean flinched a little, but the woman chuckled. "No, he's a pretty one. Our bad boys aren't going to be here, so I think he's safe from their canes. I'm thinking I'll put him on the waterfall."
Charlie laughed and slapped his ass. "You do whatever this woman tells you. Sean will be here to fetch you when it's over."
"Come on Mustang, let's get you prepped." She started walking and Dean followed, through another door and down a corridor into a small room that had a shower set on the back wall. A young man stood near the shower, a towel over one shoulder and gloves on his hands.
"Your clothes go here." She tapped a narrow cabinet near the door. "Justin will scrub you and dry you. Then you will be taken next door where you will be examined, and your accessories for the evening applied."
He wanted to ask what that meant, but she was gone and Justin was staring at him. He pulled off his clothes, shoving them in the cabinet and when he was naked the water started behind him.
Dean saw no point in dragging this out so he sighed and headed over.
"Just stand still. I'll do the work." Up close, Dean could see that the gloves were made specifically for washing. He stepped under the spray and Justin began scrubbing him down, meticulously tending every inch, each finger…when he got to Dean's ass, he pushed Dean forward, his one hand moving through his crack and up to his hole, shoving a finger into him and swirling it around before he pulled Dean back upright and ran a gloved hand over his cock and down to his balls.
To his dismay, Dean's cock hardened with the attention. "Oh, yeah. You're going to have fun tonight."
Dean doubted anything he considered fun was going to happen in the next few hours. Still, he didn't argue. Didn't speak.
"I see you know how to follow rules, good." The water stopped and Dean was towel dried roughly. "Come on then." He led Dean into another room, one that looked an awful lot like a doctor's office.
An older man in a lab coat stepped out from behind a curtain and behind him came a man in a blindfold that covered to the end of his nose and nothing else, his hands bound in something soft. Justin left Dean and went to the blindfolded guy, guiding him out of the room.
"Over here, please." He gestured behind the curtain where there was an exam table.
He was given a quick once over, then told to bend over the table and spread his legs. A gloved hand prepped him, smearing lube liberally around and inside him. "Stand."
He stood up and that same gloved hand smeared lube over his cock, which was liking the attention far more than Dean cared for. "Now then, to keep you from chaffing too quickly…" The man rummaged through a box of odd looking sleeve like things, pulling up a flesh covered one. "Yes, this should do nicely."
He fit the sleeve over Dean's cock, then reached for Dean's hands. He put Dean's hands on his cock, over the sleeve. "That's it. Hold it like you're going to whack off." He moved Dean's hands to show him how the silicone sleeve just glided over his cock and Dean moaned.
The man chuckled. "Now, hold that." He went to a drawer and came back with what looked like a roll of black tape. He started at Dean's wrists, but the stuff didn't stick to his skin, just to itself. He wrapped a couple of times around Dean's wrists, then down around his hands and back again, until there was hardly any skin showing at all, but the tip of Dean's cock showed at the end.
Next he went to a cabinet on the opposite wall and came back with something in his hands that had leather straps. "Open your mouth."
Dean frowned, but opened his mouth. The man lifted his hands and put something in Dean's mouth, pushing it open more. It held down his tongue and settled behind his teeth, holding his mouth open. The man pulled the leather straps behind Dean's head and secured it. Dean felt the blindfold coming before it covered his eyes and was tied.
The man put something in both of his ears then, dully the sounds around him. Dean could tell the man was talking, but couldn't understand him. Then he was being slapped on the ass, a hand on his shoulder drawing him…and it was hard to walk like that, with no sense of where he was and his hands taped around his cock, but he managed not to stumble.
He was stopped, turned and pressed back to sit. The surface was cold and narrow, just wide enough to hold him as those hands guided him to lay on his right side. Something was put under his head to hold it, then a strap was brought up over his neck. He had to swallow a wave of panic at being strapped down, but by the time he had, there were more straps, running over his chest and abs. Hands arranged his legs so that his hands were held between them, still around his cock and then his ankles and knees were strapped down.
For a long time he was left alone after that. His cock was hard between his hands. There was music muffled by the earplugs. Then a touch, glancing, over his skin, his hip. Dean stiffened a little, his stomach clenching. The touch became more firm, then something was pressing into him. The cock penetrated him slowly…the only other thing touching him was that hand on his hip. The cock came harder the second time, pushing on Dean, making his own dick slide through the sleeve. He groaned with the stimulation, knowing it wasn’t going to take much to get him to come.
Fingers caressed his cheek, moved to push into his open mouth. Dean could feel himself drooling now, unable to close his mouth to swallow. Those fingers fucked his mouth, while the cock in his ass sped up. The faster he went, the closer Dean came to orgasm.
Fingers tightened on his hip and heat flushed his ass. The fingers in his mouth pulled out and were replaced by a long, thin dick. Another one was already shoving into his ass as well.
His own cock started spilling onto his thigh. The one in his mouth came and the thick strings of it drooled out of Dean’s mouth.
He was still hard, his cock tender and swollen as his hands moved over it with the momentum of the man behind him.
Dean couldn’t start to track the time as they used him, a steady pace of dicks until come was just dripping from his mouth and ass and from between his hands as he came again. Eventually it slowed and the muffled sounds of the party faded. He started when a hand touched him, but it felt familiar somehow.
It moved up from his feet, loosening the straps and then helping him sit up. Dean’s knees were nudged apart and the tape removed from his hands. His cock was still hard, sore, and he whimpered around the ring in his mouth as his hands came away from it.
The leather straps were loosened and the ring lifted from his mouth. Dean closed his mouth, opened it again, moved his jaw to try to relieve the ache. One of the earplugs was pulled out. “Easy, I can’t take the blindfold off yet. Are you hurt?”
Sean. Relief flushed through him. He shook his head.
“Okay. Can you stand?”
Dean licked his lips and nodded. He was sore, but it wasn’t like they’d hurt him really. Sean held his arm as Dean put his feet on the floor and stood. Dean clung to him as he found his balance. Come dripped out of him as he moved, his ass so open it couldn’t even pretend to hold it in.
“Lean on me as much as you need to.” Sean said, slipping an arm around his back. “Lets get you cleaned up.”
The walk seemed to take forever, but finally Dean heard a door shut and Sean was pulling the blindfold off of him. They were in the shower room again. Sean was peeling off his clothes while Dean shivered.
Sean’s hands were gentle as they helped Dean over to the shower and turned it on. Dean was still shivering. Sean guided him in under the spray. They were silent as Sean’s hands moved over his skin, helping the water wash away the sweat and come. He stepped in front of Dean and pulled his head down to rest on Sean’s chest, getting Dean to step forward, which let the water hit his ass at a good angle to clean him. Sean’s fingers gently parted his cheeks and Dean hissed at the sting of hot water hitting over sensitive skin.
Dean closed his eyes against a sudden wave of tears. He didn’t want to cry in front of this guy. Sean caressed his back, gentle and his voice was a low whisper of reassuring sounds and Dean couldn’t hold back the sob that cracked through him, cracked him open…and suddenly he was clinging to Sean and crying, his knees buckling.
Sean followed him to the floor, the two of them kneeling under the spray of water. Sean kissed over Dean’s forehead, turning his face up. “You’re okay, I’m right here.” His lips traveled down Dean’s face, then covered Dean’s mouth. It was soft and gentle and chaste and somehow that just broke Dean more.
He pulled back, wiping at his face and stepping out of the shower.
“Hey.” Sean turned off the water and followed him.
“No…it’s okay. I’m okay.” Dean shook his head and sniffled, reaching for the towel.
Sean’s hand trailed down his back. “Okay.” He backed off a step and Dean went to get his clothes from the cabinet. They dressed in silence, then Dean turned to look at Sean.
"Wait…don't you…I mean…" He was supposed to be servicing Sean, he knew that.
Sean shook his head. "Not tonight."
"Won't you get in trouble?"
Sean came closer, lifting one hand to caress lightly over Dean's cheek. "Let me worry about that. Now, I need you to keep your eyes closed while we leave, okay?"
Dean nodded and closed his eyes. Sean took his hand and led him from the room. The night air was cold as it slapped into Dean's face, but then he was in the car and they were moving.
"You can open your eyes."
Dean blinked and looked around them. It was starting to snow. He hadn't realized in the daylight how far outside the downtown area they'd gone. The lights spread out below them against the black sky.
"How late is it?" Dean asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Almost three."
Dean yawned and stretched in the seat.
"I can just take you home if you want."
"My dad would kill me if I left the car sitting where it is."
Sean's hand settled on Dean's knee. It was oddly warm and comforting. He pulled it away again as they turned onto the street where Dean had left the Impala. "I'm going to follow you, make sure you get there safe."
Dean wanted to argue, but Sean leaned in and kissed him…really kissed him, his tongue licking across Dean's lips and into his mouth and Dean didn't pull away, though he didn't understand why. Sean was not someone Dean wanted to get involved with. Even if Sean had been a girl. This whole situation was entirely too fucked up for that.
Sean pulled away and Dean opened his door, slipping a little in the snow. He got his car started and let it warm up before pulling out and heading home. True to his word, Sean followed him the whole way. Dean parked and waved as he headed inside. Sean left once the door was closed.
Pastor Jim was asleep on the couch and Dean snuck past him and into the bathroom, shedding his clothes to shower again, scrubbing at his skin with soap and standing in the hot water until it started to get cold. He pulled on the sweats and t-shirt he'd been using to sleep in and went to check on Sam.
It was obvious that Sam had been having nightmares again. The nightlight was on in the corner and his bed was a mess. Dean moved in to straighten out the sheets and blankets, settling them over Sam gently.
Sam shifted, his eyes opening and squinting. "Dean?"
"Hey, squirt. Go back to sleep."
Sam shook his head. "Can't."
Dean smiled and sat on the bed, brushing the hair out of his brother's eyes. "Sure you can, you're safe."
Sam made a face. "Vampires."
Dean nodded. "Budge over."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Sam moved and Dean slid into bed beside him, letting Sam curl into him like he had when they were both younger and the nightmares came more often. Dean kissed his forehead lightly. "Sleep Sammy. I'm never going to let anything happen to you."
Even if that meant letting himself become a whore.
Title: every stone a story, Part Four ( link to Part One, Part Two, Part Three)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Pastor Jim, OMCs/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6086
Summary: Dean is a few months shy of seventeen when John is hurt in a car accident coming home from a hunt. The accident lands him in a coma and leaves Dean trying to find a way to support Sam when he can't reach their emergency contacts. What starts out as a seemingly simple job stripping turns into anything but and Dean finds himself in a game where the only card he has to play is his own body and the deck is stacked against him.
A/Ns & Warnings: For the exquisite katbcoll. Warnings include: under-age non-con, under-age prostitution, some violence. This was actually meant to be done in one part, but well...it ended up being longer than I thought...so I'm posting the next two parts ( 3 & 4) and I'll have to come back with the rest at a future time.
"Hey, Mustang."
Dean looked up from the job of covering the last of the bruises on his wrist. Sean was leaning on the door of the dressing room. "What?"
"Brought you something."
Dean frowned at him and went back to dabbing make-up over his wrist. "Unless it's pretty girl who wants to suck my cock, I'm not interested."
Sean came closer, shoving one of the other dancers out of his way. "Actually, it's just something to make that less work." He waved a hand at Dean's wrist. In that hand were two leather bands, thick enough to cover the marks the handcuffs had made.
Dean put down the make-up sponge and took the black leather from him. "Thanks." He settled one over the half covered wrist and snapped it shut. It was a perfect fit.
Sean smiled. "See, I knew they'd look great on you."
Dean didn't know why Sean was giving him gifts, but it beat the usual crap he got from the bouncer.
"I hear Charlie's giving you extra dances tonight."
"Yeah, well, someone's gotta cover for Matty, right?" Dean said, picking up the make-up sponge again to touch up the covering on the bruise on his side.
"Means more money, especially with the way you've been dancing lately."
Dean frowned harder. "No offense, dude, but seriously, do you want something?"
"Fuck you, man. I'm just trying to be nice."
"Cause you're a nice guy." Dean said, standing.
"I try to be."
Dean stepped in closer to him and dropped his voice. "Look, I appreciate the gesture, and these are cool, really. But I…" He stopped himself and licked his lips. He didn't need to be pissing this guy off. "I need to focus on getting ready. Can we talk later?"
Sean smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Good."
"I gotta get out to the door anyway."
Dean sighed as he walked away and set about finishing up. His face was much better and required a lot less work than the first few days after his special gig. Things had been okay, his father looked better every day, his nights hadn't been bad and he'd made decent money.
The dancing part was getting easier. He was more relaxed with it and he could almost forget the rest while he was on stage. And the rest had been slow since Friday night.
Pastor Jim would be showing up the next day, and with any luck the hospital would be releasing his father by the end of the week. He'd even stood on his own for a few minutes that afternoon, though he hadn't yet taken any steps without help.
He was going to survive this.
Four dances and nearly three hundred dollars later, Dean was changing back into his own clothes. It was the first night since his first that he hadn't had a single trip to the back room. Not that he was complaining.
There had been a group of young guys throwing around money that had tipped him well and the crowd had been much more civilized than usual. It was nearly two in the morning as he let himself out into the alley and headed for the car.
He had parked a few blocks away because the spots closer had all been taken and as he trudged through the snow, he got a feeling like he was being followed.
"Hey, Mustang." He stopped and turned. Three guys were coming at him, guys he vaguely recognized from the club. They had come in a few times, never tipped and usually heckled the dancers until Charlie had them thrown out.
"Look guys, it's late, and I'm tired." He turned around and kept walking.
"Hey! I'm talking to you."
Dean stopped when a hand caught his shoulder. "I don't want any trouble."
"Too bad for you." They moved in around him. "We just want a private little dance, Mustang." The speaker pulled out his wallet. "How much?"
"Look, guys…you want a dance, talk to Charlie. I don't freelance."
The biggest of the three stepped in close and Dean stepped back. He found his back pressed against the wall of the adult bookstore, surrounded. "Maybe we'll just get one for free."
Dean swallowed hard. He wasn't talking his way out of this. "There's no need to get violent." His hands fisted at his side, ready to do exactly that though as a hand grabbed his dick.
"I heard you like it rough," one of them said.
Dean punched the big guy in the stomach and bolted, but one of them caught him around the stomach and threw him into the wall. He kicked and hit, but he was out numbered and when one of them hit him in the ribs, he heard it before he felt it, falling and gasping for air.
He was being dragged into the alley, still fighting weakly as hands pulled at his jeans, then suddenly one pair of hands was gone. He curled up in a ball, covering his head as feet kicked at him, then there was a thud and yelling.
He looked up to find Sean beating down the big guy while the other two ran. Sean dropped the asshole and came toward Dean as he uncurled, then winced as pain radiated out from his side.
"You okay?" Sean asked as he knelt beside him.
"Yeah…no…" Dean lay back on the dirty concrete, holding his side. "Shit. I think something's broken."
"Hold still." Sean's fingers lifted Dean's shirt and he made a face before nodding. "That rib is probably cracked. Does anything else hurt?"
"Only everything." Dean said, reaching a hand up to be helped up. "Thank you."
Sean smiled and shook his head. "It's my job, looking after you. Besides…you left without saying goodbye." He helped Dean stand and steadied him. "I should probably take you to an ER, get that looked at."
Dean took a slow deep breath. It didn't hurt much, so he figured the break couldn't be more than a hairline. "I'll be fine."
"You keep saying that." Sean brushed at the dirt clinging to Dean's jacket.
"My brother…he's home alone…I need to get there."
Sean nodded. "Okay, but promise me you'll have it looked at before tomorrow night?"
Dean offered a smile. "Yeah, sure. When I go to the hospital to see my father."
For a minute, Dean thought Sean was going to kiss him, then Sean stepped back and waved at the street.
"I should go. Drive safe, the roads are icy."
"I will." He couldn't figure Sean out. One minute he was tough bouncer thug threatening to kick his ass for not following orders, next he was acting like he wanted to be Dean's friend…or something.
Dean brushed at the snow and dirt on his ass and headed for his car. He was getting tired of coming home sore and having to hide injuries from his brother. As he pulled into the driveway though he discovered it would be even harder. Jim's beat up truck was parked in front of the house.
He sat in the car for a few minutes, and when he moved to get out, he groaned with the pain radiating out from the rib. He tried to marshal his expression as he opened the front door, not surprised to find Jim on the couch.
"Hey."
Jim stood, eyes sweeping over him. "What happened to you?"
"I got jumped by a couple of assholes on my way to the car." Dean lied, shedding his coat and trying not to wince. He didn't fully succeed.
"You hurt?"
"Think they cracked a rib, but I'll be fine."
"You should let me have a look."
He knew better than to argue. "Yeah, give me a minute? I'm sticky and sweaty from work. Let me jump in the shower."
He had to get the make up off before Jim saw it. He might get away with a lot of shit with Sam, but Jim was going to see through stuff fast. He scrubbed down and got into his sweats, then stopped in to check on Sam.
By the time he got back to the living room, Jim had the lights on and his first aid kit rolled out on the coffee table. Dean didn't say anything. He just crossed the room and lifted his arm to give Jim a good view of his ribs.
Jim was quiet while he ran his fingers over the ribs. Dean winced when he found the one that was likely cracked. "Well, I think we should tape it up, just to be safe."
Dean nodded. "Okay."
"You going to tell me what the older bruising is from?"
"Fight a few nights ago." Dean responded.
"Sounds like a rough place, this job of yours."
"It's a bar." Dean responded as Jim got out the roll of medical tape. "It gets rowdy."
"I can see that." He finished taping Dean's chest and sighed. "I hear your daddy's doing better."
Dean nodded. "They got him up on his feet today. Doctor says that the test results are looking good…and that Dad is lucky."
"I don't know about lucky, but he's always been stubborn."
Dean smirked and nodded. "That he has. You gonna be okay on the couch? I'm wiped."
"Go on. I can take care of myself."
"Nice and easy now."
"Fuck you."
Dean smirked at the physical therapist who was trying to get his father back in the wheelchair.
"Mr. Winchester, you can't over do it. You need to rest."
"One more." John growled, inching the walker forward again even though he was leaning on it heavily and sweating with the exertion. He shuffled his feet forward one at a time, then cursed and shook his head. "Now…now."
He was shaking by the time the young man got the chair in position and put a hand on his back.
"I can get him back to his room." Dean said, knowing from the look on his father's face he was ready to tear the guy in two. He waited until the therapist was gone before he looked at his father. "You really shouldn't bully him. He's trying to help."
"The doctor won't let me go until I can do it without the walker. And I feel like a fucking old man."
Dean helped him put his feet on the foot rests of the chair, then got behind it and started to push him out of the therapy room. "You know, if you push too hard you could hurt yourself worse."
"You sound like your mother." John said.
"Well, she was a smart woman." Dean pushed him into the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. "Speaking of women, that nurse of yours is one hot-"
John raised a hand to cut him off. "Not a chance in hell."
"I'm just saying-"
John smiled up at him. "Trust me on this one. She likes older men."
Dean chuckled as the doors opened and pushed him out of the elevator, headed for his room. He was only partially surprised to find Sam and Jim there. Together, Jim and Dean got John back into his bed.
Dean stepped back. "Well, since my relief is here, I'm going to go. My boss has a party or something he wants me to work." He glanced at Jim, then Sam. "I'm going to be late, so don’t worry."
He hoped he sounded casual enough and didn’t look like he was sulking off to trade in his jeans and boots for a g-string and lube. Charlie had told him the night before that he would be working a special job. Like before, he’d offered Dean no indication of what the job was, just told him to get to the club by four thirty.
He parked on the side street near the club and trudged through the snow up to the alley. He was so early that the back door guard wasn’t even out yet. Dean let himself inside. He was alone, but not for long. Charlie appeared in the door not a minute later.
“Good, you’re here. Lets go.”
Dean didn’t argue, the sight of Matty broken and bleeding on the floor of the club still pretty fresh in his mind. Charlie led him out through the club and out the front door. There was a limo waiting. Charlie held the door open and Dean ducked his head to crawl inside. Charlie joined him and pulled the door shut, then knocked on the window.
“Where’s Sean?” Dean asked as they pulled out onto the street.
“You’ll see him later. He’s busy taking care of something for me.” Charlie responded. He opened a console under the window to the driver and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He half filled the glass and handed it to Dean. “Drink.”
Dean took the glass and looked at it, then up at Charlie. He really only gave Dean alcohol when he knew that what he was about to make Dean do would meet resistance.
“It wasn’t an offer Dean. Drink it now.”
Dean tipped it back, swallowing rapidly, then coughing a little. “Happy?”
He gave the glass back and glanced out the window. “Where are we going?”
“First, we’re stopping to visit a friend. I’ve got a little job for you there. Then I’ll take you to your special gig.”
The limo pulled up in front of a small house where Dean could see two of Charlie’s men sitting on the porch. Charlie opened the door and waited for Dean. As he stepped out of the car, Dean’s head was a little buzzy, far more than it should have been off one drink. Charlie’s hand fell on his shoulder, all hot and heavy and when his fingers brushed against Dean’s neck, the heat traveled.
Charlie kept a hand on him all the way into the house. Matty was sitting on the couch, his leg in plaster from toes to hip, his arm in a sling, his face still bruised. Dean stopped and looked to Charlie and then back.
“Why are we here?”
Charlie smiled. “Well, Dean, through that door is your job.”
Dean frowned at him, then looked at Matty, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What job?”
“In there is a young man who is naked and bound and waiting.”
Dean frowned harder. “What?”
Charlie rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re going to go into that room and fuck him.”
Dean stepped back. “No, I’m not.” Matty stiffened. Charlie raised an eyebrow.
“Think carefully, Dean, before you say no to me.”
Dean felt the color drain from his face. Charlie stepped in, playing with the collar of Dean’s jacket. “It could easily be your brother in that room, Dean, instead of Matthew’s.”
Dean swallowed, closing his eyes.
“Now, Matthew understood the consequences of his refusing me. Do you understand the consequences if you do?”
Dean nodded slowly.
“Good. Give me your jacket, then go in there and do your job. And don’t think about lying.” He gestured at the television. “I’ll be watching. And I’ll be checking that you actually came too.”
“I…” Dean shook his head. “I don’t know if I can.”
Charlie smirked. “Don’t worry about that. The drug cocktail I gave you in that shot should take care of any issues you might have.”
Drug cocktail. That explained the dizziness and the flushing.
Dean pulled his jacket off and gave it to Charlie. He couldn’t look at Matty. He had no idea how he was going to go through with this. He opened the door and nearly closed it without walking in. He inhaled and stepped in, closing the door behind him.
The hood covered head lifted, turned his way. “Who…who’s there?”
Dean opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. He moved closer. “I…I’m here to…” What? What was he going to say to the kid? He couldn’t see the guy’s face to know how old he was, but he was going to guess older than Sam, but still younger than Dean.
He was kneeling on the bed, his hands tied with rope that ran under the head of the bed, came up at the other end and bound his ankles together. He couldn’t do this.
A flashing light caught his eye and he looked up at the camera mounted in the corner. He had no choice. Charlie was watching.
Dean put a hand on the kid’s back. “I don’t want to hurt you. Try to relax.”
“You’re going to…they said you were going to…”
“Shh.” Dean petted over his skin. “Easy. I don’t really have a choice here. If I don’t, they’ll hurt me and my brother.”
His hand swiped down lower, closer to the kid’s ass. “I don’t want to.” He whispered the words, daring a glance at the camera again. “I’m not even sure I can.” He unzipped his jeans, watching the kid start to tremble.
“Please….please don’t do this…”
Dean closed his eyes and turned away, pulling his cock out. He exhaled and focused on getting hard enough to do what he had to. Whatever drug was running through him seemed to do its job though and just fondling himself seemed to be enough. He let his jeans drop to the floor.
There was a bottle of lube on the night stand. Dean grabbed it and moved closer to the bed.
"Please…please…I won't tell them…I'll say you did it…just…just don't…please…"
"They're watching." Dean said, opening the lube. He needed to just get it over with. "Just…close your eyes and try not to tense up, it only gets worse. I'll try to make it fast."
He wet his fingers with lube, spilling it on the bed and his legs and cursing as he got a knee up beside the kid. His fingers shook as he rubbed them over the hole. The kid's body was trembling and it took Dean a minute to place the noise coming from him. He was crying.
The sound intensified as Dean pressed inward. He worked his finger in, and then out again. He got a second finger in and the kid yelled, then fell back to begging. "Please…please…"
Dean looked up at the camera, wanting to rip it off the wall, knowing that Charlie was out in the living room watching them, making Matty watch them. He stretched the kid open, wanting to do his best not to hurt him any more than was absolutely necessary.
"Okay, this is it…Just…take a deep breath, and let it out slow." Dean said, his voice pitched low. He reached for his cock, stroking it with his lube slick hand. It filled and hardened more than he thought it would under the circumstances and he brought it up, settling the head against the lubed up hole. "Now, breathe in."
He felt the kid inhale, and when he started to let it out, Dean pushed in. It was more than anyone had done for him, and he wasn't sure it actually would help, but it gave the kid something to do while Dean did the deed.
He was tight…tighter than the one chick he'd ever gotten into. His cock seemed to like it though and as he pulled out and started back in, he realized he wasn't going to have as a hard a time getting to orgasm as he'd thought. Probably whatever drugs Charlie had fed him doing their job.
The kid sobbed under him, the bed shaking as Dean hurried, finally feeling the start of it, building fast and hard and suddenly he was coming like he hadn't in months, emptying himself into the kid before he pulled back.
The kid collapsed forward as much as his bonds allowed, crying loudly now. Dean's cock was still hard, still dribbling come and he was suddenly going to be sick. He ran to the only open door in the room, into the bathroom.
He threw up into the toilet, retching long after his stomach was empty. It took him a few minutes to pull himself together, flush the toilet and rinse out his mouth. He used some toilet paper to wipe himself up, then went back to pull his jeans back on.
The crying had quieted some. Dean leaned in close. "I really…I'm sorry…"
The door opened and Charlie came in, grinning. "I knew you had it in you, Son."
"I told you, don't call me that." Dean growled, ready now to be as far away from the smug bastard as possible.
"That was pretty hot, Mustang. Makes me want to throw you down over his back and have my way with you."
"If that's what it takes to get us out of here." Dean said.
Charlie went to the bed and unceremoniously stuck two fingers into the kid's ass. "Very nice. I see the drugs are working." He wiped his hands on the bedspread. "Well then, lets you and I get on with our evening, shall we?"
"What about him?" Dean asked.
Charlie grabbed the back of his neck and shoved him toward the door. "Don't worry about him. Worry about you."
In the car, Charlie unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, shoving Dean to the floor. "Make yourself useful."
At least Dean had done this enough that he knew what he was doing. He knelt between Charlie's open legs and leveraged up enough to lick up his dick. Charlie didn't like a lot of playing around, and Dean got the impression that he would be pressed for time, so he closed his lips around Charlie's cock and pushed down, then slid up, setting up a pretty quick rhythm.
He knew Charlie was close when his hand pressed Dean's head down, and Dean had to swallow fast not to choke. Charlie handed him another half glass of the drug laced whiskey when he sat back.
"I don't think-"
"Drink it."
Dean took the glass while Charlie tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. A few seconds later the car was rolling to a stop and Charlie looked at Dean until he had downed the whiskey.
"Now then, you will keep your eyes on the floor. You will not speak. You will follow me and do as you are told."
"Yes sir." Dean responded, setting the glass down as Charlie got out of the car. Dean did exactly as he was told, though he stole glimpses of the elaborate yard and big house as he was led inside.
All around them people bustled and it was hard not to look up, especially because he felt like he could feel them looking at him. Then Charlie was reaching for him, pressing him in through a door.
"Ah, there you are, I was beginning to wonder."
Dean fought the urge to look up at the voice.
"Marsha, this is Mustang, my newest party boy. He is yours for the evening."
"Same terms as last time?"
Charlie's hand tightened on his neck, then stroked down over his back. "Standard price for each cock in his mouth or ass, an extra hundred each for any marks left on him."
Dean flinched a little, but the woman chuckled. "No, he's a pretty one. Our bad boys aren't going to be here, so I think he's safe from their canes. I'm thinking I'll put him on the waterfall."
Charlie laughed and slapped his ass. "You do whatever this woman tells you. Sean will be here to fetch you when it's over."
"Come on Mustang, let's get you prepped." She started walking and Dean followed, through another door and down a corridor into a small room that had a shower set on the back wall. A young man stood near the shower, a towel over one shoulder and gloves on his hands.
"Your clothes go here." She tapped a narrow cabinet near the door. "Justin will scrub you and dry you. Then you will be taken next door where you will be examined, and your accessories for the evening applied."
He wanted to ask what that meant, but she was gone and Justin was staring at him. He pulled off his clothes, shoving them in the cabinet and when he was naked the water started behind him.
Dean saw no point in dragging this out so he sighed and headed over.
"Just stand still. I'll do the work." Up close, Dean could see that the gloves were made specifically for washing. He stepped under the spray and Justin began scrubbing him down, meticulously tending every inch, each finger…when he got to Dean's ass, he pushed Dean forward, his one hand moving through his crack and up to his hole, shoving a finger into him and swirling it around before he pulled Dean back upright and ran a gloved hand over his cock and down to his balls.
To his dismay, Dean's cock hardened with the attention. "Oh, yeah. You're going to have fun tonight."
Dean doubted anything he considered fun was going to happen in the next few hours. Still, he didn't argue. Didn't speak.
"I see you know how to follow rules, good." The water stopped and Dean was towel dried roughly. "Come on then." He led Dean into another room, one that looked an awful lot like a doctor's office.
An older man in a lab coat stepped out from behind a curtain and behind him came a man in a blindfold that covered to the end of his nose and nothing else, his hands bound in something soft. Justin left Dean and went to the blindfolded guy, guiding him out of the room.
"Over here, please." He gestured behind the curtain where there was an exam table.
He was given a quick once over, then told to bend over the table and spread his legs. A gloved hand prepped him, smearing lube liberally around and inside him. "Stand."
He stood up and that same gloved hand smeared lube over his cock, which was liking the attention far more than Dean cared for. "Now then, to keep you from chaffing too quickly…" The man rummaged through a box of odd looking sleeve like things, pulling up a flesh covered one. "Yes, this should do nicely."
He fit the sleeve over Dean's cock, then reached for Dean's hands. He put Dean's hands on his cock, over the sleeve. "That's it. Hold it like you're going to whack off." He moved Dean's hands to show him how the silicone sleeve just glided over his cock and Dean moaned.
The man chuckled. "Now, hold that." He went to a drawer and came back with what looked like a roll of black tape. He started at Dean's wrists, but the stuff didn't stick to his skin, just to itself. He wrapped a couple of times around Dean's wrists, then down around his hands and back again, until there was hardly any skin showing at all, but the tip of Dean's cock showed at the end.
Next he went to a cabinet on the opposite wall and came back with something in his hands that had leather straps. "Open your mouth."
Dean frowned, but opened his mouth. The man lifted his hands and put something in Dean's mouth, pushing it open more. It held down his tongue and settled behind his teeth, holding his mouth open. The man pulled the leather straps behind Dean's head and secured it. Dean felt the blindfold coming before it covered his eyes and was tied.
The man put something in both of his ears then, dully the sounds around him. Dean could tell the man was talking, but couldn't understand him. Then he was being slapped on the ass, a hand on his shoulder drawing him…and it was hard to walk like that, with no sense of where he was and his hands taped around his cock, but he managed not to stumble.
He was stopped, turned and pressed back to sit. The surface was cold and narrow, just wide enough to hold him as those hands guided him to lay on his right side. Something was put under his head to hold it, then a strap was brought up over his neck. He had to swallow a wave of panic at being strapped down, but by the time he had, there were more straps, running over his chest and abs. Hands arranged his legs so that his hands were held between them, still around his cock and then his ankles and knees were strapped down.
For a long time he was left alone after that. His cock was hard between his hands. There was music muffled by the earplugs. Then a touch, glancing, over his skin, his hip. Dean stiffened a little, his stomach clenching. The touch became more firm, then something was pressing into him. The cock penetrated him slowly…the only other thing touching him was that hand on his hip. The cock came harder the second time, pushing on Dean, making his own dick slide through the sleeve. He groaned with the stimulation, knowing it wasn’t going to take much to get him to come.
Fingers caressed his cheek, moved to push into his open mouth. Dean could feel himself drooling now, unable to close his mouth to swallow. Those fingers fucked his mouth, while the cock in his ass sped up. The faster he went, the closer Dean came to orgasm.
Fingers tightened on his hip and heat flushed his ass. The fingers in his mouth pulled out and were replaced by a long, thin dick. Another one was already shoving into his ass as well.
His own cock started spilling onto his thigh. The one in his mouth came and the thick strings of it drooled out of Dean’s mouth.
He was still hard, his cock tender and swollen as his hands moved over it with the momentum of the man behind him.
Dean couldn’t start to track the time as they used him, a steady pace of dicks until come was just dripping from his mouth and ass and from between his hands as he came again. Eventually it slowed and the muffled sounds of the party faded. He started when a hand touched him, but it felt familiar somehow.
It moved up from his feet, loosening the straps and then helping him sit up. Dean’s knees were nudged apart and the tape removed from his hands. His cock was still hard, sore, and he whimpered around the ring in his mouth as his hands came away from it.
The leather straps were loosened and the ring lifted from his mouth. Dean closed his mouth, opened it again, moved his jaw to try to relieve the ache. One of the earplugs was pulled out. “Easy, I can’t take the blindfold off yet. Are you hurt?”
Sean. Relief flushed through him. He shook his head.
“Okay. Can you stand?”
Dean licked his lips and nodded. He was sore, but it wasn’t like they’d hurt him really. Sean held his arm as Dean put his feet on the floor and stood. Dean clung to him as he found his balance. Come dripped out of him as he moved, his ass so open it couldn’t even pretend to hold it in.
“Lean on me as much as you need to.” Sean said, slipping an arm around his back. “Lets get you cleaned up.”
The walk seemed to take forever, but finally Dean heard a door shut and Sean was pulling the blindfold off of him. They were in the shower room again. Sean was peeling off his clothes while Dean shivered.
Sean’s hands were gentle as they helped Dean over to the shower and turned it on. Dean was still shivering. Sean guided him in under the spray. They were silent as Sean’s hands moved over his skin, helping the water wash away the sweat and come. He stepped in front of Dean and pulled his head down to rest on Sean’s chest, getting Dean to step forward, which let the water hit his ass at a good angle to clean him. Sean’s fingers gently parted his cheeks and Dean hissed at the sting of hot water hitting over sensitive skin.
Dean closed his eyes against a sudden wave of tears. He didn’t want to cry in front of this guy. Sean caressed his back, gentle and his voice was a low whisper of reassuring sounds and Dean couldn’t hold back the sob that cracked through him, cracked him open…and suddenly he was clinging to Sean and crying, his knees buckling.
Sean followed him to the floor, the two of them kneeling under the spray of water. Sean kissed over Dean’s forehead, turning his face up. “You’re okay, I’m right here.” His lips traveled down Dean’s face, then covered Dean’s mouth. It was soft and gentle and chaste and somehow that just broke Dean more.
He pulled back, wiping at his face and stepping out of the shower.
“Hey.” Sean turned off the water and followed him.
“No…it’s okay. I’m okay.” Dean shook his head and sniffled, reaching for the towel.
Sean’s hand trailed down his back. “Okay.” He backed off a step and Dean went to get his clothes from the cabinet. They dressed in silence, then Dean turned to look at Sean.
"Wait…don't you…I mean…" He was supposed to be servicing Sean, he knew that.
Sean shook his head. "Not tonight."
"Won't you get in trouble?"
Sean came closer, lifting one hand to caress lightly over Dean's cheek. "Let me worry about that. Now, I need you to keep your eyes closed while we leave, okay?"
Dean nodded and closed his eyes. Sean took his hand and led him from the room. The night air was cold as it slapped into Dean's face, but then he was in the car and they were moving.
"You can open your eyes."
Dean blinked and looked around them. It was starting to snow. He hadn't realized in the daylight how far outside the downtown area they'd gone. The lights spread out below them against the black sky.
"How late is it?" Dean asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Almost three."
Dean yawned and stretched in the seat.
"I can just take you home if you want."
"My dad would kill me if I left the car sitting where it is."
Sean's hand settled on Dean's knee. It was oddly warm and comforting. He pulled it away again as they turned onto the street where Dean had left the Impala. "I'm going to follow you, make sure you get there safe."
Dean wanted to argue, but Sean leaned in and kissed him…really kissed him, his tongue licking across Dean's lips and into his mouth and Dean didn't pull away, though he didn't understand why. Sean was not someone Dean wanted to get involved with. Even if Sean had been a girl. This whole situation was entirely too fucked up for that.
Sean pulled away and Dean opened his door, slipping a little in the snow. He got his car started and let it warm up before pulling out and heading home. True to his word, Sean followed him the whole way. Dean parked and waved as he headed inside. Sean left once the door was closed.
Pastor Jim was asleep on the couch and Dean snuck past him and into the bathroom, shedding his clothes to shower again, scrubbing at his skin with soap and standing in the hot water until it started to get cold. He pulled on the sweats and t-shirt he'd been using to sleep in and went to check on Sam.
It was obvious that Sam had been having nightmares again. The nightlight was on in the corner and his bed was a mess. Dean moved in to straighten out the sheets and blankets, settling them over Sam gently.
Sam shifted, his eyes opening and squinting. "Dean?"
"Hey, squirt. Go back to sleep."
Sam shook his head. "Can't."
Dean smiled and sat on the bed, brushing the hair out of his brother's eyes. "Sure you can, you're safe."
Sam made a face. "Vampires."
Dean nodded. "Budge over."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Sam moved and Dean slid into bed beside him, letting Sam curl into him like he had when they were both younger and the nightmares came more often. Dean kissed his forehead lightly. "Sleep Sammy. I'm never going to let anything happen to you."
Even if that meant letting himself become a whore.