
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/260311.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean/OMC, voyeur!Sam
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, Original_Male_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Unrequited_Wincest, Voyeurism, Oral_Sex, Prostitution, Daddy_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-03-18 Words: 926
****** Sex Education, Winchester Style ******
by dastiel_gal_(rock_chick)
Summary
     This is hooker!Dean and underage!voyeur!Sammy porn, with no redeeming
     features. You need to know more than that? ;)
Notes
     Written for an anonymous request at the Working Hard For The Money #2
     comment fic meme here, to the prompt Sam catches Dean giving it up
     for cash in an alley. Dean is loving it and calling his john "daddy"
     a whole lot. Sam is taken aback and ends up jerking it while
     watching. ;-)
"Please, Daddy, please?"
Sam jerks to a halt by the soda machine. That's Dean's voice. And since Sam was
talking to Dad on the phone not ten minutes ago, making fetching-late-dinner
excuses for Dean's absence, he knows fine and well that it's not Dad he's
talking to. He sidles the last few yards to the end of the motel, flattens
himself against the wall and carefully peers around the corner.
The sight that greets him punches his breath out of him. Some dark, burly guy
has Dean backed up against the wall, which would normally be cause for concern
- but Sam's walked in on Dean and his one-night-stands often enough to know
what Dean's sex-face looks like. Half-lidded eyes, pinked up cheeks, lips
pouting and kiss-swollen. Oh, yeah, Sam knows that expression. It's burned into
the back of his brain. He's just never seen it on Dean with a guy before; and a
guy twice his age, at that.
"Yeah, kid, just like that. Now hit your knees."
"Dude, you think I'm stupid? Greenbacks first."
Sam's chin hits the floor at that, and he watches in shock as the guy gets out
his wallet and hands a few bills to his brother. Dean's hooking? No, no, he
can't be. That's... crazy. And stupid, and dangerous. He doesn't want to
believe it possible, even; but it's aready beyond deniable, what with the come-
hither expression, and the money changing hands. Dean's not even having to be
pushed into this, invitation written all over his body language. Sam's hot all
over, and his belly's doing backflips. He wants to creep away, not see this,
but he daren't. What if the trick cuts up rough? Dean's stronger than most 18-
year-olds, but he's still much smaller than that guy. He might need help.
Dean, meanwhile, has wasted no time in rolling them sideways so the guy's
against the wall, tugging at his belt and flies as they go. Within seconds he
has his cock out, giving it a pull as he lowers himself to his knees. "Oh,
yeah, Daddy..."
The guy groans hard at that, and again when Dean licks his lips and gives the
guy his most innocent expression. The fucking pervert obviously loves it, the
I'm-so-young act and being called Daddy, pulls Dean's head towards him and
thrusts at his mouth. Dean opens up willingly to meet him, tipping his head
back to take him in, and the sight sends a bolt of heat straight to Sam's
groin. He watches in fascination as Dean sucks and mouths around it, making
enthusiastic little noises.
"Taste so good, Daddy!"
The guy bucks in fast and deep at that, making Dean cough a little and pull
off; but he's back on it in seconds, and there's no mistaking his eagerness.
This isn't all about the money. Sam's hips twitch, pushing his cock into the
hand he's unconsciously moved down to cup it. He rubs down hard against it and
bites his lip.
"Come on, Daddy, harder." Dean has his own jeans open now, one hand down in his
shorts. There's a shuddery, desperate tone to his voice that Sam has never
heard before. It's... wicked hot. Hotter even than when Sam's listening to him
jerking it in the shower. Dean was born noisy, and never more so than when his
dick's in play. (Sam, on the other hand, is silent as the grave, leading Dean
into a false sense of security - sure that if he doesn't hear Sammy, Sammy
can't hear him.) He's certainly not making any effort to muffle the wet, messy
sucking sounds he's making around his mouthful of cock.
If Dean's pleading was meant to make the guy cut loose, it's worked like a
charm. He's got his hands clutched around Dean's scalp now, holding his head
immobile as he slams into his mouth. Sam's never seen anything like it, ever.
It looks painful and frightening, and Dean's gagging and choking on it, eyes
watering and spit running down his chin - but his sex-face is still firmly in
place, the moans he's letting out are all hunger rather than hurt, and he's
jerking himself at light speed. Sam stifles a noise and bucks helplessly into
his hand, hot and light-headed and amazed at what he's seeing and how much it's
turning him on.
Dean gets off first, spasming as he shoves into his hand, crying out filthy and
hot around the guy's cock. The trick slams even harder into him, hard length
flashing pale in the twilight between thrusts. He comes, grunting out with each
spurt down Dean's throat, and Sam trembles and shuts his eyes, leans into the
wall as he jerks his dick fast and hard through his jeans. He can hear blood
rushing in his ears, little snuffling noises escaping him despite his efforts
to be silent, and his climax hits him like a freight train. His knees turn to
water and he feels himself fall, hits the asphalt ass-first, dizzy-blind and
disorientated.
It takes a few seconds to get his bearings back, which is a few too many, and
he hears Dean say "There's someone there!", followed by hasty movements and the
jingle of belt buckles being cinched. Panic sends a jolt of adrenaline through
him and he rolls, gets a sprinting start onto his feet and takes off down the
pathway like hellhounds are after him. He fumbles with his key and flings
himself into their room; doesn't dare look behind him to check if Dean's there,
if he saw. He knows he did.
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