FIC - Slut
Title: Slut
Rating: NC-17
W/C: ~1100
Pairing: Sam/OMC (implied), Sam/Dean
A/N: for icelily01’s prompt at the hooker!fic meme.
It couldn’t be what he thought. No way.
Dean had emerged from the bar, his pockets filled with tonight’s pool-hustling money, and almost completely sober. He’d barely made it three blocks down the street, in the direction of their temporary apartment, when he saw what must have been a hallucination.
Not uncommon in this neighborhood, there was a young kid, a teenage boy, leaned over the curb, having a conversation with a man in a car through an open window. But this wasn’t just any kid. Just from his body language, Dean knew what he didn’t want to know in less than a minute.
That was Sam.
Sam, in nothing but a tight t-shirt on a cold night, jeans slung low on his hips, a sly grin on his face. Before the conversation had a chance to conclude, Dean was right there, grabbing his baby brother by the back of his hair and saying something (he wasn’t sure what) that had the guy in the car pulling away quickly.
“The fuck, Sam? What the goddamn fuck are you doing?”
Stupid question. He knew exactly what Sam was doing.
Squaring his shoulders and refusing to back down to his brother’s anger, Sam replied, “Just trying to help, Dean. You’re hustling pool, Dad’s scamming credit cards. That’s what you’re good at. This is what I’m good at. You know we need the money. So we’ve all got some illegal source of income. Don’t flip your lid, damn it.”
“Flip my lid? Seriously? Flip my lid? You’re fucking sixteen, Sam! Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”
“Yeah, Dean, I do. I’m ready for it. Just fucking back off, please, let me work and I’ll be fine for school in the morning, I promise.”
Dean was incredulous at this point. Sam was acting like what he was doing was the same thing as what Dean and his dad did for money. And it wasn’t. It most certainly was not.
He took a deep breath, and let go of Sam’s shirt. “How much?”
“How much what?”
“You know what I’m asking you, bitch. How much? In a night?”
Sam finally seemed to deflate a bit, flushing just a bit. “Four hundred, maybe five. I’m safe, Dean, I use condoms and there’s no stupid trick who could hurt me with my training”, he sneered, getting across his little dig at being forced into ‘the life’.
Dean ignored it, and dug a wad of cash from his pocket. He tore off six hundred-dollar bills from the stack and threw them at Sam’s chest. Before he could compose himself, Sam was on the ground, picking up the cash.
Glancing up at his brother’s face as he knelt on the sidewalk collecting the money, finally, he recognized how angry Dean was about this. “This is not the same. Not like hustling pool, not like filling out fake credit card applications. Justify it all you want. But it’s done now. I just outbid every trick who comes by here tonight. So you come home now, with me.”
“I’m not taking your money, Dean.”
“No. No, you’re not. You’re earning it. Move. Now.
Sam knew, at that point, there was no point in arguing further. He followed Dean back to their place, up the steps, and into the bedroom they shared.
“Get your clothes off, whore. Let’s see what I just bought.”
“Dean, you can’t be-”
“Shut your whore mouth, Sam. I just fucking paid you, do what I say.”
And that was it. Sam was used to it by now. he stripped and stood by the bed. For some reason, waiting for instructions from his brother was less threatening than waiting for instructions from a stranger.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“You tell me, Sam. I don’t know what whores do for their money.”
“Uh, well, for that much, pretty much anything. I could suck you, then you could fuck me.”
“Fuck you? Tell me this, Sam, before you started doing this, how many girls had you fucked?”
No sense in lying. “One.”
“And how many guys did you let fuck you? For free? How many blow jobs did you give before you decided to become a hooker? How many?”
“None. No one. Not ever.”
“And since then?”
Sam was crumbling under the weight of the interrogation. “I don’t know. Twenty, maybe. It’s only been a few months.”
Dean’s breath caught then, and he almost lost his composure. Sammy’d been doing this for months and he didn’t know. Big brother protecting little brother, failed project right there. He couldn’t concentrate on that now, though.
“Fine”, Dean replied, taking his cock out of his pants. “On your knees, whore. I just bought you for the whole night. Suck me.”
In one fluid and clearly practiced moment, Sam fell to his knees, taking Dean’s dick into his mouth, sucking like a - fuck, no. Dean held Sam’s head completely still and fucked into his mouth until he heard him gag and choke.
At that point, he pushed Sam off and started taking off his clothes. “Get on the bed. On your back, I want to see you.”
Sam hurried to follow Dean’s instruction, but he was still confused. Was Dean angry and taking it out on him like this? Was he trying to humiliate Sam? Or did he…oh my God, did he want this? With him?
“How much prep do you need, Sam? Already been fucked tonight?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I have. I’m all right.”
After pulling on a condom, Dean didn’t hesitate before pushing into his brother, fast and rough, coaxing a rough moan from Sam. Maybe it still hurt, maybe not. He couldn’t bring himself to care, he was still so taken over with anger. Thrusting hard, it wasn’t more than a few minutes before he spilled inside the latex.
For a few minutes, they were both quiet.
“If I need to keep paying for it, that’s fine. But you’re not doing that again. You understand me?”
Chastened, Sam just responded, “Okay, Dean. Okay.”
“You’re gonna be a slut, that’s fine, you’ll be my slut. Got it?” he asked, and without asking for an answer, he continued. “Go to sleep, Sammy. Don’t forget about that exam you have in the morning.” Pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek, their first kiss, he kept speaking. “Mine now. Mine, Sam. No one else.”
“Yours, Dean. Of course, yours, always yours.”
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.)
Rating: NC-17
W/C: ~1100
Pairing: Sam/OMC (implied), Sam/Dean
A/N: for icelily01’s prompt at the hooker!fic meme.
It couldn’t be what he thought. No way.
Dean had emerged from the bar, his pockets filled with tonight’s pool-hustling money, and almost completely sober. He’d barely made it three blocks down the street, in the direction of their temporary apartment, when he saw what must have been a hallucination.
Not uncommon in this neighborhood, there was a young kid, a teenage boy, leaned over the curb, having a conversation with a man in a car through an open window. But this wasn’t just any kid. Just from his body language, Dean knew what he didn’t want to know in less than a minute.
That was Sam.
Sam, in nothing but a tight t-shirt on a cold night, jeans slung low on his hips, a sly grin on his face. Before the conversation had a chance to conclude, Dean was right there, grabbing his baby brother by the back of his hair and saying something (he wasn’t sure what) that had the guy in the car pulling away quickly.
“The fuck, Sam? What the goddamn fuck are you doing?”
Stupid question. He knew exactly what Sam was doing.
Squaring his shoulders and refusing to back down to his brother’s anger, Sam replied, “Just trying to help, Dean. You’re hustling pool, Dad’s scamming credit cards. That’s what you’re good at. This is what I’m good at. You know we need the money. So we’ve all got some illegal source of income. Don’t flip your lid, damn it.”
“Flip my lid? Seriously? Flip my lid? You’re fucking sixteen, Sam! Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”
“Yeah, Dean, I do. I’m ready for it. Just fucking back off, please, let me work and I’ll be fine for school in the morning, I promise.”
Dean was incredulous at this point. Sam was acting like what he was doing was the same thing as what Dean and his dad did for money. And it wasn’t. It most certainly was not.
He took a deep breath, and let go of Sam’s shirt. “How much?”
“How much what?”
“You know what I’m asking you, bitch. How much? In a night?”
Sam finally seemed to deflate a bit, flushing just a bit. “Four hundred, maybe five. I’m safe, Dean, I use condoms and there’s no stupid trick who could hurt me with my training”, he sneered, getting across his little dig at being forced into ‘the life’.
Dean ignored it, and dug a wad of cash from his pocket. He tore off six hundred-dollar bills from the stack and threw them at Sam’s chest. Before he could compose himself, Sam was on the ground, picking up the cash.
Glancing up at his brother’s face as he knelt on the sidewalk collecting the money, finally, he recognized how angry Dean was about this. “This is not the same. Not like hustling pool, not like filling out fake credit card applications. Justify it all you want. But it’s done now. I just outbid every trick who comes by here tonight. So you come home now, with me.”
“I’m not taking your money, Dean.”
“No. No, you’re not. You’re earning it. Move. Now.
Sam knew, at that point, there was no point in arguing further. He followed Dean back to their place, up the steps, and into the bedroom they shared.
“Get your clothes off, whore. Let’s see what I just bought.”
“Dean, you can’t be-”
“Shut your whore mouth, Sam. I just fucking paid you, do what I say.”
And that was it. Sam was used to it by now. he stripped and stood by the bed. For some reason, waiting for instructions from his brother was less threatening than waiting for instructions from a stranger.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“You tell me, Sam. I don’t know what whores do for their money.”
“Uh, well, for that much, pretty much anything. I could suck you, then you could fuck me.”
“Fuck you? Tell me this, Sam, before you started doing this, how many girls had you fucked?”
No sense in lying. “One.”
“And how many guys did you let fuck you? For free? How many blow jobs did you give before you decided to become a hooker? How many?”
“None. No one. Not ever.”
“And since then?”
Sam was crumbling under the weight of the interrogation. “I don’t know. Twenty, maybe. It’s only been a few months.”
Dean’s breath caught then, and he almost lost his composure. Sammy’d been doing this for months and he didn’t know. Big brother protecting little brother, failed project right there. He couldn’t concentrate on that now, though.
“Fine”, Dean replied, taking his cock out of his pants. “On your knees, whore. I just bought you for the whole night. Suck me.”
In one fluid and clearly practiced moment, Sam fell to his knees, taking Dean’s dick into his mouth, sucking like a - fuck, no. Dean held Sam’s head completely still and fucked into his mouth until he heard him gag and choke.
At that point, he pushed Sam off and started taking off his clothes. “Get on the bed. On your back, I want to see you.”
Sam hurried to follow Dean’s instruction, but he was still confused. Was Dean angry and taking it out on him like this? Was he trying to humiliate Sam? Or did he…oh my God, did he want this? With him?
“How much prep do you need, Sam? Already been fucked tonight?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I have. I’m all right.”
After pulling on a condom, Dean didn’t hesitate before pushing into his brother, fast and rough, coaxing a rough moan from Sam. Maybe it still hurt, maybe not. He couldn’t bring himself to care, he was still so taken over with anger. Thrusting hard, it wasn’t more than a few minutes before he spilled inside the latex.
For a few minutes, they were both quiet.
“If I need to keep paying for it, that’s fine. But you’re not doing that again. You understand me?”
Chastened, Sam just responded, “Okay, Dean. Okay.”
“You’re gonna be a slut, that’s fine, you’ll be my slut. Got it?” he asked, and without asking for an answer, he continued. “Go to sleep, Sammy. Don’t forget about that exam you have in the morning.” Pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek, their first kiss, he kept speaking. “Mine now. Mine, Sam. No one else.”
“Yours, Dean. Of course, yours, always yours.”
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.)