Don't Hate Me, Supernatural, NC-17
Jun. 25th, 2008 09:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: Don't Hate Me
Pairing/Characters: Sam/OMC, Dean/Sam, Dean/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3335
Summary: This is the sequel to Don't Go Out Tonight, Don't Say No, and Don't Say You're Sorry, Don't Leave Me, Don't Ask Me to Stay and Don't Close Your Eyes and Don't Lie to Me. Sam has a plan, but so does Dean. They're both on course for a head on collision. The only question is, which one of them will reach terminal velocity first?
A/Ns & Warnings: This is Hooker!fic. Dean was hooking to make money for him and Sam to live on, and after Mosley, Sam finds it easier to do the same than he ever thought possible. This is very dark and angsty. Apparently this has also sort of spawned a verse...because every time I think I reached the end, I realize there's more story to tell.
Dean found out where Mosley was when he found the bag stuffed under Sam’s bed. He sat and stared at the bag, angry that Sam had hidden it, that Mosley had sent it, that Mosley was there.
He should have ended it. Should never have gotten Sam involved.
He didn’t bother with the DVD, just pocketed the card with the address and headed out while Sam was in class.
He wasn’t sure what he would do when he got there. He only knew it had to end.
When he pulled to a stop outside the hotel, he sat, watching the front doors as if expecting Mosley to come out. It isn’t Mosley that emerged when those doors open however.
Dean’s eyes tracked Sam as he adjusted his clothes, wiped his face and headed back toward campus. Fury flooded him and he wanted to get out of the car and shake his brother. It had to end. They both agreed.
And yet, here he was, giving himself to the fuckwad and sauntering back to campus like it was nothing. Dean shook his head and put the car in gear, following Sam.
His brother ducked into the library and Dean sighed. Things had been strained the last few days, since Dean had discovered that Mosley had already made contact with Sam, since Sam told him he’d handle it.
But Sam wasn’t handling anything. He was floundering. Even if he didn’t realize it. Dean parked outside the library and got out of the Impala, pacing around it.
Dean wasn’t helping. Not when he couldn’t stop what he’d started. Every night they fell further into the darkness, clinging to each other because there was nothing else to hold onto. They touched in ways that should have sickened him, but only made him want more.
Each day they tried to pretend, didn’t touch, barely spoke and every night they fell together, naked bodies pressing together in need and lust.
That too had to end. He was sure of it. Just as sure as he wouldn’t deny Sam. Anything for Sam. They’d end Mosley. Dean would make sure Sam got to stay in school…even if he had to find the money to do it. He wasn’t above whoring himself to give Sam what he needed.
And once Dean had done that, it would be over. Sam wouldn’t need him like that anymore. He could go back to normal, to school and girls and Dean could just…he shook his head, not really sure about anything past that. Dean ducked into the car, pulled out the box he kept under his seat. There was almost $2000 in it. Nowhere near what Mosley wanted, but he’d gotten that much in just two days. He didn’t dwell on how. He had skills, it was time he used them to fix this.
Mosley had given him less than a half hour’s warning, promising to send his boys to fetch Sam out of class if he didn’t show up, so he’d gone, because he needed Mosley to think he was his, that Sam had resigned himself to playing the whore.
Sitting in the back of the library, in the shadows of books and shelves and hundreds of years of history, he was starting to wonder if he was even playing anymore.
Sam could still feel him, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’d managed to clean himself up in the bathroom before he left, but his ass was gaping open and it hurt. Mosley’d had company and Sam hadn’t had time to prepare.
He couldn’t bring himself to go back to Dean, not just yet. Dean would know where he’d been, what he’d done…and with everything between them so fucked up…so wrong and yet, so…hot and needy and desperate, the last thing he wanted was to hurt his brother any more. So he sat here, pretending to work on homework and contemplating how this would end.
He had a plan. The first part of it was lulling Mosley into letting down his guard. He had to keep Dean away from him, and find the way in, the way to kill Mosley without getting caught. Not to mention, keep his grades up, keep his scholarship…keep Dean alive.
He sighed and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He could do this. He could do this. He was so close. He just needed to survive.
Dean left Sam sleeping, showered and pulled on clothes before slipping out of the dorm and down to the street. This was not something he needed Sam to worry about.
It was almost eleven thirty.
He exhaled and pulled himself together. He could do this. For Sam. It was $1500, three hundred from each of them. He could do this.
The jock had found him at the off campus bar where he’d been hustling pool and turning tricks, offered him a party. Hadn’t even balked when Dean said $300 each. Only asked if he could handle five. Damn trust fund babies.
Five.
Dean hadn’t blinked or reacted, just nodded. Fifteen hundred for an hour or so of fucking. He could do this.
He knocked and the door opened, the same jock from before stepping away. He looked nervous, a little green around the edges. Four other guys shuffled around the room as Dean stopped. He shrugged off his jacket and nodded toward the beer on the desk. “Mind if I have one?”
The big guy by the door shook his head. “No, help yourself.”
Dean nodded and popped the top on one, taking a long drink before he looked up. “I collect first.” Not that it mattered too much. If this many guys wanted to take their money back, they probably could.
“Right.” That was the redhead, he was the only one who looked ready to party, his shirt off and the red in his face showing he’d had more than beer. He pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to Dean. He set the beer down long enough to rifle through and eyeball the amount, then shoved it in his own pocket.
It was pretty obvious that other than Red, none of them had done this before…and whether that meant with a guy or with a hooker, Dean couldn’t be sure. He exhaled and pulled off his shirt, kicked off his boots and went for his zipper. “Where?”
All of them looked around them, wide eyed. Okay, so maybe this was going to be more work than he thought. Dean unzipped his jeans, making eye contact with each of them before he dropped them, stepping clear. He was naked now. He stopped to pull out a roll of condoms and a tube of lube, dropping them on the desk by the beer.
He turned to the guy by the door, the one that recruited him and moved in. “Like what you see, big Guy?”
“Oh…yeah…I do…” He was blushing as Dean’s hand slid over his chest, and down between his legs.
“Gonna have to loose some of these clothes if you wanna get busy.” Dean lifted up, cupping his cock and balls and feeling him tighten. “That’s a boy…let me see what you got under there.”
It took a few minutes, but then Dean was on his knees, the big guy’s cock sliding over his lips while Red moved in behind him. His hands slid over Dean’s skin, down to his ass. Lubed fingers pushed inside him and it became clear that Red knew what he was doing. Dean pushed back against him, urging Big Guy to slide down onto his ass so Dean could lift his, making room for Red’s cock.
He could feel the others, wide-eyed, watching. He slid a hand in to play with the balls under his chin and felt the big guy shudder.
“Oh…my…god…I’m…fuck!” And just like that the guy was coming. Dean backed off just in time, watching the come spray up and splat on the guy’s chest. Dean fucked himself back onto Red, sitting on him and beckoning the next. The faster he got this over with the better.
The blond was already fondling himself and he grabbed the back of Dean’s head, pulling him forward. “Suck it, you fucking whore.”
He pushed back the anger and did exactly that, sucking the cock as hard as he could before releasing it and sliding it in and out while he bounced on Red, whose fingers were digging into his hips. He squeezed his ass…and Red thrust up, groaning as he came. Blondie wasn’t far behind him, and that left the small one and the pretty boy.
Dean turned to them, panting lightly. “Who’s next?” He climbed to his feet, his cock semi-hard and bobbing. “Pretty boy?” He grinned, playing with himself as he moved closer and closer. The kid backed up until his feet hit the bed and he sat. “I can work with that.” Dean unzipped him, and his cock sprang free of his pants, hard and beautiful. Dean rolled a condom down him, then stood on the bed, holding the cock with one hand and guiding it inside him.
The kid gasped and the others gaped as Dean sank down onto him, then rose back up…and this kid didn’t even last three full strokes before he was filling the condom and grunting.
Dean slipped off him, but didn’t get up, just beckoned the last one closer. “Haven’t got all night sweetheart, hop on in here.” The pretty boy was still laying under him, gasping and staring as the last one pushed into his ass. It was starting to ache a little, but he just gritted his teeth while the kid did his best at something that was sort of like fucking.
When he grunted and backed away, holding his still half hard cock Dean got to his feet. “Well, wasn’t this fun?”
He pulled his clothes on and finished off the beer. He held up a card, plain white with just his name and a number. “I’m looking to raise a lot of money, really fast. Know anyone who wants a good time? Call me.”
He got to the door, then turned to look at them. “Prices go up for kinky shit. No blood, no bareback. Everything else is negotiable.”
Sam approached Professor Elton’s class with his heart racing. He hadn’t heard anything from the professor or from the Dean since his meeting. There hadn’t been any rumors around campus about Elton getting booted, and if the dean had spoken to him about Sam, there would be trouble.
He slid into his seat, nodding greetings to the other students he knew, his eyes scanning the front of the room. He was relieved when Elton’s office door opened and a TA emerged, rather than the professor.
“Listen up!” The TA crossed to the podium. “Professor Elton is not feeling well, and asked me to take over today’s class.”
Of course, it could just be that the man was sick, but Sam was so relieved he couldn’t concentrate.
He jogged down the stairs when class was over, anxiously checking his cell phone. The board was meeting later that night. Maybe they’d already decided. Maybe Elton was getting fired even now.
He crossed campus and flew up to his dorm room, frowning when Dean wasn’t there. The car was outside…and Dean hadn’t been going much of anywhere the last few days.
He scowled and turned back to the door, his eyes sweeping the desk for a note or some indication of where his brother had gone. He emerged back into the hall, still frowning.
“You looking for the guy who’s been staying with you?”
Sam looked up, nodding even before the identity of the other person registered. Jesse Marpin, two doors down. Pre med. “Yeah, you see him?”
“Yeah, he left about an hour ago with these two big guys. Said to tell you he’d take care of everything.”
Fuck. Sam shook his head to clear it. Fuck. Mosley would kill him.
Sam went back to the room and pulled the gun out from under his pillow and the knife from behind the nightstand, brass knuckles from the underwear drawer. He took off at a run, across campus and headed for the hotel.
Dean’s mouth was bleeding and he was on his knees, but for the moment, no one was hitting him. Mosley was counting the money. Dean swallowed blood as Mosley finished and looked at him.
“You gonna tell me how you got this?”
“Does it matter?” Dean asked. “I did what I do. It’s enough for you to leave Sam the fuck alone.”
Mosley sat back, rubbing his chin. “I like Sammy…he makes a good whore.”
It was close to $15000. a couple lucky bets and really big gambles after a few “parties” with Red and his friends. He knew there was no way he was getting close to Mosley without the money. “His debt is clear, and so is mine. You leave us the fuck alone.”
“Must have sucked a lot of cock for this. Maybe you should suck mine too…you know, seal the deal.” Mosley rubbed over his crotch with a grin.
There were a lot of things Dean wanted to do with that man’s cock, but sucking it sure wasn’t one of them.
“Pity, I think Sammy was really starting to enjoy working for me. You should have seen the way he sucked cock here last night. Did me and my boys, couple hotel guys too. Ask around, they really liked him in the bar.”
Dean breathed in, forced himself not to lose control. Mosley picked up a stack of the money again and shuffled through it, holding it up to his nose and sniffing. “Love the smell.”
Dean didn’t grin even though he wanted to. He’d been counting on that. On Mosley putting the money close to his face. He inched backwards. It worked fast, he needed to be ready to move.
“Boss?” Mosley’s eyes were bulging. Dean lurched to his feet. Mosley’s bodyguard was leaning over him. He was going to get a lungful too. All the better. Dean made for the door, pulling up short as a gun pushed into his chest.
Sam came into view on the other end of that gun, panting. “Dean?”
“It’s okay Sam. I took care of it. We need to go.”
Sam shook his head. “Is he…” He looked past Dean to where Mosley and his guard where struggling to breathe.
“Not yet, but soon.”
Sam shook his head. “What…what did you do?”
“Poison, okay? Let’s go.” Dean grabbed his hand, taking the gun away and putting it in his pocket. “Nice and easy.”
Sam seemed stunned as they got into the elevator. “It’s too easy. It’s…it’s not enough.”
Dean shook his head and held Sam’s arm. “It’s over Sammy. That’s all that matters.”
He got them out of the hotel and walking. He wasn’t sure where they were going, but away from the hotel, away from the dorm…just away. He’d already called in a few favors to sanitize the place once they were away. Bobby and a friend were probably already there, making sure there wasn’t any sign of any Winchester anywhere to be found.
“Dean…” Sam stopped them beside the slow moving creek. “What just happened?”
Dean stepped in close, running a hand over Sam’s face. “I took care of you. Like I should have before now. Mosley’s gone. It’s just you and me.”
“You and me?” Sam repeated slowly, He still looked shocked. “I thought…I thought he was going to kill you.”
Dean nodded. “Me too. I got him first.”
“How?”
“A little trick I picked up from this witch in Alabama. A little poison, a little spell. By the time he hits the coroner’s office it’ll look like a heart attack.”
Sam was shaking. “Hey, Sammy, come on. It’s okay.”
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “I was going to kill him. I wanted to kill him. For you.”
Dean reached for his face, kissing him deeply. They staggered back until Sam was against a tree. “It’s all over Sammy. All over.”
Sam’s hands dragged at him, at his clothes, desperate and hungry and Dean let him unzip him, but Sam froze when his hand swept over Dean’s ass and Dean winced.
“What?”
Dean shook his head. “Nothing Sammy. Go on.”
“No.” Sam shoved until he got Dean turned around. “Fuck, Dean.”
“Don’t.” Dean pulled away, pulling his pants back up.
“What did you do? Fuck the whole goddamn football team?”
“Don’t you even—“ Dean scratched at his head and turned to look at Sam. “I did it for you.”
“For me?” Sam stalked toward him. “How is this for me?”
“I needed the money Sam…and the people in this town? They pay. Not like those street punks. Serious money.”
“I told you I was handling Mosley.”
Dean grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, exposing the bruises on his sides from his last trip to see Mosley. “Right, because this is handling Mosley.” He shook his head. “Can’t you see what he was doing to you?” He dropped the shirt and reached for Sam, pulling him to him. “I was going to lose you Sam.”
Sam shook his head. “This is so fucked up.” He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled.
Dean had to agree. It was fucked up. And now that Mosley was gone, it could get put right. “It’s okay Sammy. You’ll see. We’re going to be okay.”
“Mr. Winchester.”
Sam stood and inclined his head toward the board. “We have reviewed your situation.” The woman speaking was a professor he didn’t know. “Academically, your record is flawless, and this incident aside, your behavior has been impeccable.”
His heart was racing. If only she knew. If only this board knew that he had gone to kill someone the day before, or that he was hiding his brother, who had killed someone the day before…or that just that morning he’d fucked his brother.
He held his breath and waited.
“We all have pasts, Mr. Winchester. We are willing to believe that you are ready to put yours behind you. As long as you keep your nose clean and your grades up, you are welcome to remain here. Your scholarship will be re-evaluated at the end of every term.”
“Thank you.” Sam flushed with relief. “This means everything to me.”
“And, Mr. Winchester?”
He turned to face his dean on the end. “The dorms are for students only. If you’re going to continue having your guest, you might consider other housing.”
Sam nodded. “Of course.”
Dean was at his side instantly as he left the building. “Well?”
“I can stay. For now.” Sam fell into step beside him. “But we have to find someplace else to live…if you’re staying.”
Dean was quiet for a moment and Sam stopped, closing his eyes. Of course Dean wouldn’t stay. Dean was only here for him. Dean was probably already packed.
“Sam?”
“Do you hate me?” Sam asked, his voice small.
“What?” Dean grabbed his hand. “What?”
“Don’t hate me Dean. Don’t hate me. Leave if you want, go back to Dad…or go hunting…but don’t hate me.” He felt hot tears and shook his head. He didn’t want to fall apart now.
“Sam, why would I hate you?”
Sam reached for him blindly, pulling him in to kiss him, not caring that it was broad daylight or that they were in the middle of campus, just needing to feel him. Dean’s lips opened, his tongue warm against Sam’s, melting.
“Just don’t…I couldn’t take it if you did.” Sam whispered.
“Not going anywhere, Sammy. It’s you and me, remember?” Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s. “So…we’ll find an apartment somewhere. I’ll get a job. You’ll go to school. It’ll be great. You wait and see.”
Sam wanted to believe him. He really did, and when Dean winked at him and started walking again, he almost did. Almost.
Title: Don't Hate Me
Pairing/Characters: Sam/OMC, Dean/Sam, Dean/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3335
Summary: This is the sequel to Don't Go Out Tonight, Don't Say No, and Don't Say You're Sorry, Don't Leave Me, Don't Ask Me to Stay and Don't Close Your Eyes and Don't Lie to Me. Sam has a plan, but so does Dean. They're both on course for a head on collision. The only question is, which one of them will reach terminal velocity first?
A/Ns & Warnings: This is Hooker!fic. Dean was hooking to make money for him and Sam to live on, and after Mosley, Sam finds it easier to do the same than he ever thought possible. This is very dark and angsty. Apparently this has also sort of spawned a verse...because every time I think I reached the end, I realize there's more story to tell.
Dean found out where Mosley was when he found the bag stuffed under Sam’s bed. He sat and stared at the bag, angry that Sam had hidden it, that Mosley had sent it, that Mosley was there.
He should have ended it. Should never have gotten Sam involved.
He didn’t bother with the DVD, just pocketed the card with the address and headed out while Sam was in class.
He wasn’t sure what he would do when he got there. He only knew it had to end.
When he pulled to a stop outside the hotel, he sat, watching the front doors as if expecting Mosley to come out. It isn’t Mosley that emerged when those doors open however.
Dean’s eyes tracked Sam as he adjusted his clothes, wiped his face and headed back toward campus. Fury flooded him and he wanted to get out of the car and shake his brother. It had to end. They both agreed.
And yet, here he was, giving himself to the fuckwad and sauntering back to campus like it was nothing. Dean shook his head and put the car in gear, following Sam.
His brother ducked into the library and Dean sighed. Things had been strained the last few days, since Dean had discovered that Mosley had already made contact with Sam, since Sam told him he’d handle it.
But Sam wasn’t handling anything. He was floundering. Even if he didn’t realize it. Dean parked outside the library and got out of the Impala, pacing around it.
Dean wasn’t helping. Not when he couldn’t stop what he’d started. Every night they fell further into the darkness, clinging to each other because there was nothing else to hold onto. They touched in ways that should have sickened him, but only made him want more.
Each day they tried to pretend, didn’t touch, barely spoke and every night they fell together, naked bodies pressing together in need and lust.
That too had to end. He was sure of it. Just as sure as he wouldn’t deny Sam. Anything for Sam. They’d end Mosley. Dean would make sure Sam got to stay in school…even if he had to find the money to do it. He wasn’t above whoring himself to give Sam what he needed.
And once Dean had done that, it would be over. Sam wouldn’t need him like that anymore. He could go back to normal, to school and girls and Dean could just…he shook his head, not really sure about anything past that. Dean ducked into the car, pulled out the box he kept under his seat. There was almost $2000 in it. Nowhere near what Mosley wanted, but he’d gotten that much in just two days. He didn’t dwell on how. He had skills, it was time he used them to fix this.
Mosley had given him less than a half hour’s warning, promising to send his boys to fetch Sam out of class if he didn’t show up, so he’d gone, because he needed Mosley to think he was his, that Sam had resigned himself to playing the whore.
Sitting in the back of the library, in the shadows of books and shelves and hundreds of years of history, he was starting to wonder if he was even playing anymore.
Sam could still feel him, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’d managed to clean himself up in the bathroom before he left, but his ass was gaping open and it hurt. Mosley’d had company and Sam hadn’t had time to prepare.
He couldn’t bring himself to go back to Dean, not just yet. Dean would know where he’d been, what he’d done…and with everything between them so fucked up…so wrong and yet, so…hot and needy and desperate, the last thing he wanted was to hurt his brother any more. So he sat here, pretending to work on homework and contemplating how this would end.
He had a plan. The first part of it was lulling Mosley into letting down his guard. He had to keep Dean away from him, and find the way in, the way to kill Mosley without getting caught. Not to mention, keep his grades up, keep his scholarship…keep Dean alive.
He sighed and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He could do this. He could do this. He was so close. He just needed to survive.
Dean left Sam sleeping, showered and pulled on clothes before slipping out of the dorm and down to the street. This was not something he needed Sam to worry about.
It was almost eleven thirty.
He exhaled and pulled himself together. He could do this. For Sam. It was $1500, three hundred from each of them. He could do this.
The jock had found him at the off campus bar where he’d been hustling pool and turning tricks, offered him a party. Hadn’t even balked when Dean said $300 each. Only asked if he could handle five. Damn trust fund babies.
Five.
Dean hadn’t blinked or reacted, just nodded. Fifteen hundred for an hour or so of fucking. He could do this.
He knocked and the door opened, the same jock from before stepping away. He looked nervous, a little green around the edges. Four other guys shuffled around the room as Dean stopped. He shrugged off his jacket and nodded toward the beer on the desk. “Mind if I have one?”
The big guy by the door shook his head. “No, help yourself.”
Dean nodded and popped the top on one, taking a long drink before he looked up. “I collect first.” Not that it mattered too much. If this many guys wanted to take their money back, they probably could.
“Right.” That was the redhead, he was the only one who looked ready to party, his shirt off and the red in his face showing he’d had more than beer. He pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to Dean. He set the beer down long enough to rifle through and eyeball the amount, then shoved it in his own pocket.
It was pretty obvious that other than Red, none of them had done this before…and whether that meant with a guy or with a hooker, Dean couldn’t be sure. He exhaled and pulled off his shirt, kicked off his boots and went for his zipper. “Where?”
All of them looked around them, wide eyed. Okay, so maybe this was going to be more work than he thought. Dean unzipped his jeans, making eye contact with each of them before he dropped them, stepping clear. He was naked now. He stopped to pull out a roll of condoms and a tube of lube, dropping them on the desk by the beer.
He turned to the guy by the door, the one that recruited him and moved in. “Like what you see, big Guy?”
“Oh…yeah…I do…” He was blushing as Dean’s hand slid over his chest, and down between his legs.
“Gonna have to loose some of these clothes if you wanna get busy.” Dean lifted up, cupping his cock and balls and feeling him tighten. “That’s a boy…let me see what you got under there.”
It took a few minutes, but then Dean was on his knees, the big guy’s cock sliding over his lips while Red moved in behind him. His hands slid over Dean’s skin, down to his ass. Lubed fingers pushed inside him and it became clear that Red knew what he was doing. Dean pushed back against him, urging Big Guy to slide down onto his ass so Dean could lift his, making room for Red’s cock.
He could feel the others, wide-eyed, watching. He slid a hand in to play with the balls under his chin and felt the big guy shudder.
“Oh…my…god…I’m…fuck!” And just like that the guy was coming. Dean backed off just in time, watching the come spray up and splat on the guy’s chest. Dean fucked himself back onto Red, sitting on him and beckoning the next. The faster he got this over with the better.
The blond was already fondling himself and he grabbed the back of Dean’s head, pulling him forward. “Suck it, you fucking whore.”
He pushed back the anger and did exactly that, sucking the cock as hard as he could before releasing it and sliding it in and out while he bounced on Red, whose fingers were digging into his hips. He squeezed his ass…and Red thrust up, groaning as he came. Blondie wasn’t far behind him, and that left the small one and the pretty boy.
Dean turned to them, panting lightly. “Who’s next?” He climbed to his feet, his cock semi-hard and bobbing. “Pretty boy?” He grinned, playing with himself as he moved closer and closer. The kid backed up until his feet hit the bed and he sat. “I can work with that.” Dean unzipped him, and his cock sprang free of his pants, hard and beautiful. Dean rolled a condom down him, then stood on the bed, holding the cock with one hand and guiding it inside him.
The kid gasped and the others gaped as Dean sank down onto him, then rose back up…and this kid didn’t even last three full strokes before he was filling the condom and grunting.
Dean slipped off him, but didn’t get up, just beckoned the last one closer. “Haven’t got all night sweetheart, hop on in here.” The pretty boy was still laying under him, gasping and staring as the last one pushed into his ass. It was starting to ache a little, but he just gritted his teeth while the kid did his best at something that was sort of like fucking.
When he grunted and backed away, holding his still half hard cock Dean got to his feet. “Well, wasn’t this fun?”
He pulled his clothes on and finished off the beer. He held up a card, plain white with just his name and a number. “I’m looking to raise a lot of money, really fast. Know anyone who wants a good time? Call me.”
He got to the door, then turned to look at them. “Prices go up for kinky shit. No blood, no bareback. Everything else is negotiable.”
Sam approached Professor Elton’s class with his heart racing. He hadn’t heard anything from the professor or from the Dean since his meeting. There hadn’t been any rumors around campus about Elton getting booted, and if the dean had spoken to him about Sam, there would be trouble.
He slid into his seat, nodding greetings to the other students he knew, his eyes scanning the front of the room. He was relieved when Elton’s office door opened and a TA emerged, rather than the professor.
“Listen up!” The TA crossed to the podium. “Professor Elton is not feeling well, and asked me to take over today’s class.”
Of course, it could just be that the man was sick, but Sam was so relieved he couldn’t concentrate.
He jogged down the stairs when class was over, anxiously checking his cell phone. The board was meeting later that night. Maybe they’d already decided. Maybe Elton was getting fired even now.
He crossed campus and flew up to his dorm room, frowning when Dean wasn’t there. The car was outside…and Dean hadn’t been going much of anywhere the last few days.
He scowled and turned back to the door, his eyes sweeping the desk for a note or some indication of where his brother had gone. He emerged back into the hall, still frowning.
“You looking for the guy who’s been staying with you?”
Sam looked up, nodding even before the identity of the other person registered. Jesse Marpin, two doors down. Pre med. “Yeah, you see him?”
“Yeah, he left about an hour ago with these two big guys. Said to tell you he’d take care of everything.”
Fuck. Sam shook his head to clear it. Fuck. Mosley would kill him.
Sam went back to the room and pulled the gun out from under his pillow and the knife from behind the nightstand, brass knuckles from the underwear drawer. He took off at a run, across campus and headed for the hotel.
Dean’s mouth was bleeding and he was on his knees, but for the moment, no one was hitting him. Mosley was counting the money. Dean swallowed blood as Mosley finished and looked at him.
“You gonna tell me how you got this?”
“Does it matter?” Dean asked. “I did what I do. It’s enough for you to leave Sam the fuck alone.”
Mosley sat back, rubbing his chin. “I like Sammy…he makes a good whore.”
It was close to $15000. a couple lucky bets and really big gambles after a few “parties” with Red and his friends. He knew there was no way he was getting close to Mosley without the money. “His debt is clear, and so is mine. You leave us the fuck alone.”
“Must have sucked a lot of cock for this. Maybe you should suck mine too…you know, seal the deal.” Mosley rubbed over his crotch with a grin.
There were a lot of things Dean wanted to do with that man’s cock, but sucking it sure wasn’t one of them.
“Pity, I think Sammy was really starting to enjoy working for me. You should have seen the way he sucked cock here last night. Did me and my boys, couple hotel guys too. Ask around, they really liked him in the bar.”
Dean breathed in, forced himself not to lose control. Mosley picked up a stack of the money again and shuffled through it, holding it up to his nose and sniffing. “Love the smell.”
Dean didn’t grin even though he wanted to. He’d been counting on that. On Mosley putting the money close to his face. He inched backwards. It worked fast, he needed to be ready to move.
“Boss?” Mosley’s eyes were bulging. Dean lurched to his feet. Mosley’s bodyguard was leaning over him. He was going to get a lungful too. All the better. Dean made for the door, pulling up short as a gun pushed into his chest.
Sam came into view on the other end of that gun, panting. “Dean?”
“It’s okay Sam. I took care of it. We need to go.”
Sam shook his head. “Is he…” He looked past Dean to where Mosley and his guard where struggling to breathe.
“Not yet, but soon.”
Sam shook his head. “What…what did you do?”
“Poison, okay? Let’s go.” Dean grabbed his hand, taking the gun away and putting it in his pocket. “Nice and easy.”
Sam seemed stunned as they got into the elevator. “It’s too easy. It’s…it’s not enough.”
Dean shook his head and held Sam’s arm. “It’s over Sammy. That’s all that matters.”
He got them out of the hotel and walking. He wasn’t sure where they were going, but away from the hotel, away from the dorm…just away. He’d already called in a few favors to sanitize the place once they were away. Bobby and a friend were probably already there, making sure there wasn’t any sign of any Winchester anywhere to be found.
“Dean…” Sam stopped them beside the slow moving creek. “What just happened?”
Dean stepped in close, running a hand over Sam’s face. “I took care of you. Like I should have before now. Mosley’s gone. It’s just you and me.”
“You and me?” Sam repeated slowly, He still looked shocked. “I thought…I thought he was going to kill you.”
Dean nodded. “Me too. I got him first.”
“How?”
“A little trick I picked up from this witch in Alabama. A little poison, a little spell. By the time he hits the coroner’s office it’ll look like a heart attack.”
Sam was shaking. “Hey, Sammy, come on. It’s okay.”
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “I was going to kill him. I wanted to kill him. For you.”
Dean reached for his face, kissing him deeply. They staggered back until Sam was against a tree. “It’s all over Sammy. All over.”
Sam’s hands dragged at him, at his clothes, desperate and hungry and Dean let him unzip him, but Sam froze when his hand swept over Dean’s ass and Dean winced.
“What?”
Dean shook his head. “Nothing Sammy. Go on.”
“No.” Sam shoved until he got Dean turned around. “Fuck, Dean.”
“Don’t.” Dean pulled away, pulling his pants back up.
“What did you do? Fuck the whole goddamn football team?”
“Don’t you even—“ Dean scratched at his head and turned to look at Sam. “I did it for you.”
“For me?” Sam stalked toward him. “How is this for me?”
“I needed the money Sam…and the people in this town? They pay. Not like those street punks. Serious money.”
“I told you I was handling Mosley.”
Dean grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, exposing the bruises on his sides from his last trip to see Mosley. “Right, because this is handling Mosley.” He shook his head. “Can’t you see what he was doing to you?” He dropped the shirt and reached for Sam, pulling him to him. “I was going to lose you Sam.”
Sam shook his head. “This is so fucked up.” He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled.
Dean had to agree. It was fucked up. And now that Mosley was gone, it could get put right. “It’s okay Sammy. You’ll see. We’re going to be okay.”
“Mr. Winchester.”
Sam stood and inclined his head toward the board. “We have reviewed your situation.” The woman speaking was a professor he didn’t know. “Academically, your record is flawless, and this incident aside, your behavior has been impeccable.”
His heart was racing. If only she knew. If only this board knew that he had gone to kill someone the day before, or that he was hiding his brother, who had killed someone the day before…or that just that morning he’d fucked his brother.
He held his breath and waited.
“We all have pasts, Mr. Winchester. We are willing to believe that you are ready to put yours behind you. As long as you keep your nose clean and your grades up, you are welcome to remain here. Your scholarship will be re-evaluated at the end of every term.”
“Thank you.” Sam flushed with relief. “This means everything to me.”
“And, Mr. Winchester?”
He turned to face his dean on the end. “The dorms are for students only. If you’re going to continue having your guest, you might consider other housing.”
Sam nodded. “Of course.”
Dean was at his side instantly as he left the building. “Well?”
“I can stay. For now.” Sam fell into step beside him. “But we have to find someplace else to live…if you’re staying.”
Dean was quiet for a moment and Sam stopped, closing his eyes. Of course Dean wouldn’t stay. Dean was only here for him. Dean was probably already packed.
“Sam?”
“Do you hate me?” Sam asked, his voice small.
“What?” Dean grabbed his hand. “What?”
“Don’t hate me Dean. Don’t hate me. Leave if you want, go back to Dad…or go hunting…but don’t hate me.” He felt hot tears and shook his head. He didn’t want to fall apart now.
“Sam, why would I hate you?”
Sam reached for him blindly, pulling him in to kiss him, not caring that it was broad daylight or that they were in the middle of campus, just needing to feel him. Dean’s lips opened, his tongue warm against Sam’s, melting.
“Just don’t…I couldn’t take it if you did.” Sam whispered.
“Not going anywhere, Sammy. It’s you and me, remember?” Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s. “So…we’ll find an apartment somewhere. I’ll get a job. You’ll go to school. It’ll be great. You wait and see.”
Sam wanted to believe him. He really did, and when Dean winked at him and started walking again, he almost did. Almost.
