Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7549720.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Sam_Wesson/Dean_Winchester, Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Benny
      Lafitte/Sam_Winchester, Sam/Original_Male_Character(s)
  Character:
      Sam_Wesson, Dean_Winchester, Benny_Lafitte, Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Forced_Prostitution, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Underage_Prostitution,
      Prostitute_Sam, Top_Benny, Bottom_Sam, Top_Dean, Explicit_Sexual_Content,
      Explicit_Language, Abusive_Relationships, Protective_Dean_Winchester,
      Hurt/Comfort, Sexual_Abuse, Serial_Killer_Dean, Blood, Dean_to_the
      Rescue, Unspecified_Setting, Late_at_Night, Love_at_First_Sight, Dean_In
      Love, Bottoming_from_the_Top, Making_Love, Ballroom_Dancing, Emotionally
      Hurt_Sam, Hurt_Sam, Declarations_Of_Love, Love_Confessions, Surprise
      Ending, Plot_Twists, Vampire_Dean_Winchester
  Series:
      Part 1 of My_Black_Knight_In_The_White_Moonlight_(Series)
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-23 Words: 9214
****** My Black Knight In The White Moonlight (Episode One) ******
by thorkiship18
Summary
     "What are you?" Sam whispers.
     Dean smirks, unintentionally flashing his abnormally white teeth.
     "I'm something less than you, yet much more."
     (Or the one where Sam is a Sixteen Year Old prostitute and Dean saves
     the day.)
Notes
     Hey, guys! This was a random idea that I had a few months ago, but
     I'm finally making it happen! It's a one-shot, but if it's good
     enough, I'll add on a few chapters for you all. It all depends on you
     guys. Enjoy!
     (My apologies for any spelling errors. I hate working on a phone. I
     need my laptop screen fixed. Gah!!)
See the end of the work for more notes
It's cold, but not very much so. It's always cold in this part of town.
Especially during the night. There's nothing but other boys like him working
the corner. They aren't Benny's boys. Not yet anyways. He's an up and coming
pimp, not used to being in the business. Sam used to work alone, but he was
seduced by the man who promised him a grand and lavish life. It was all a lie.
Benny is a dangerous man who uses every little infraction on Sam's part as an
excuse to hurt him. It's alright. He deserves this. It's what he gets for
running away from the only home he ever knew. But he had to leave. After his
mom died, his stepfather just kept...touching. There's nothing for him back
there. He'll never go back, no matter how warm that house once was.
This outfit that Benny made him wear is degrading. It's meant for a whore.
He is a whore. A filthy, dirty whore that's only good for one thing. That's
what Benny tells him all the time when he's fucking into him against the wall
of his apartment. He never used to be this way. When they first met outside of
that diner, he sweet talked him, flirting and talking to him casually. They
didn't have sex right away when he took Sam home, which he thought was usual;
he expected it. He gave him an offer. Benny told him he could stay with him on
two conditions: Be his forever and work for him. At the time, Sam thought the
offer couldn't be any worse than how it was with Rick, so he accepted.
Immediately after doing that though, Benny took him. It was rough and brutal.
Looking back on it now, that had to be one of the stupidest mistakes that he
ever made. But he was desperate for a home, a place to escape from the hellish
nightmare that he came from. Rick started out as a nice guy too, but it was
just deception. He's a wolf in sheep's clothing. His grin is as cunning as his
attitude behind closed doors. Sam's thankful that he got away from that
terrible man. The man that caused him hurt, but not as much as Benny. He's
keeping him against his will. Has been for half a year now. Running isn't an
option. He's been caught twice already, being punished severely for it. Sam has
been starved, beaten, bruised and raped for days on end by him for his
disobedience and he doesn't see it ending anytime soon.
He adjusts the short white shorts that he's made to wear. The small white t-
shirt hugs his torso, exposing his stomach immensely. Benny makes him wear all
white clothing when working because it makes him look "angelic" and "pure". The
men that he has sex with eat that shit up. They see him as this clean, virginal
being that needs to be ravaged beyond repair, yet treated like the saint that
he looks like. These men are sickening, just like Benny. Sam hates him. He
hates everything he stands for, but he can't say anything to him or anyone for
that matter. He doesn't have anyone anymore, only his abuser. The perverts
don't care about him as long as he satisfies them. Assholes.
Eventually, a blue sedan pulls up near him. The guy in the car rolls down his
window, whistling for Sam to come closer. He does so, but slowly and
cautiously. You can't trust people nowadays. He leans on the window, looking
inside to see who he's about to fuck for the night. The man isn't anything
special. He looks overworked; tired. He's slim with thick glasses on. He's what
one would describe as "boyishly handsome". Even without him saying a single
thing yet, Sam knows that this man hasn't done anything like this before. He's
nervous, eyes looking at the boy in front of him and the surrounding area. His
patience is wearing thin. He has a schedule to keep, a deadline to make. If he
comes back with less money again, Benny's gonna do something bad. Something
worse than last time. Finally, the pervert in the car speaks, voice shaky and
unsure.
"Uh--Hi there." He mutters.
Sam nods, smiling politely. "Hi. You looking for a moment alone with me?"
"Yea--Yeah." He says very enthusiastically. "I would like that a lot. Do
you...wanna hop in?"
The young prostitute doesn't say anything as he gets in to join the man. He
only sighs out of dread. He hopes that there'll be a day in which he'll get out
of this place and away from Benny. Sam prays for a miracle...but he knows that
no one will ever answer it. He's damned. He's been tainted by the blackness
that surrounds Rick and Benny's hearts. If he died today, Heaven would deny
him. The demons of Hell would embrace him and most likely use him as he is
about to be used. The man with the glasses--who he'll name "Goggles"--stops off
into a nearby motel parking lot. The teen knows it well; he has a room here and
he mentioned it. Goggles starts to fidget with his wallet, hands a little
shakey. He smiles at Sam; his hair cut seems to fit him. He does look a bit
like a married man. The ring on his finger confirms this.
"Um, uh...how--how do I do this? Do I pay you after or before?"
The boy kinda feels bad for him. "We can do it after if you prefer. Let's talk
prices."
"Oh, okay. How much for...?"
This needs to speed up a little. "Twenty for a handjob, Thirty for a blowjob,
Fifty for anal and One Fifty for the entire thing."
The moonlight shines into the car, allowing Sam to she the man's blush touch
upon his cheeks. He digs in the wallet for a fifty, handing it to the kid who
stuffs the bill in his shoe for safe keeping. So, he pays up front. Okay. They
exit the car and Sam leads the way. He pulls out his key for the room; 6. When
he opens the door and turns on the lights, he notices that the bed is still
slightly messy from when Benny viciously raped in it not even an hour ago. That
man calls him irresistible, a sexual pleasure that can never be replaced by
another man or woman. Goggles gets in last, shutting and locking the door
behind him. That's an immediate red flag. The men that he fucks aren't supposed
to do that, but Sam let's it slide.
"I've never done anything like this before." He admits. "You know, with a guy
or a...a...yeah." He sticks out his hand. "I'm Richard by the way."
Well, that's new. At least he won't be referred to as Goggles anymore. He's so
polite too. Sam takes his hand and shakes. "I'm Sam. It's nice to meet you
Dick."
The man blushes at the nickname while Sam just smirks. "I, uh, yeah. Hi...Sam."
"So..." The experienced teenager saunters over to Richard, dropping his pants
as he does so. He doesn't have any underwear on. "Do you wanna start now, or do
you just wanna keep staring at me?"
Richard, though stunned by Sam's initiative, lets his sexual instincts kick in.
The boy continues to remove the rest of his clothes, savoring the touch of
another man. It's not loving, but it's comfortable. At least Richard isn't
strangling him or demanding him to keep still while he rams his cock down his
throat. At least it isn't that. Anything but that. Sam sinks down to his knees,
unbuckling the man's pants. He didn't ask for this, though he's gonna give it
to him anyways. He seems like a nice guy, probably isn't getting any from the
wife at home. Even if it's wrong, Sam knows that this man needs this. He can
give him this pleasure. It's a good deed that he's doing, or that's what he
wants to think.
The guy's hard member springs free from it's confines, almost wacking the boy
one the face. It's bigger than what he had imagined it to be. He's hung, but
not by much. Richard has gotten like this just from the sight of his naked
body. Without being prompted to, Sam takes it all in his mouth. He listens to
Richard gasp, gripping his hair for balance as he's nearly stumbles. This is
what he wants, so he'll give it to him. Unconsciously, he snaps his hips
forward which makes Sam gag a little; the man's cock touches the back of his
throat. Richard apologizes, but the boy tells him that he's okay. That he
should just lay on the bed and relax so he can get this done. He still needs to
fuck more guys. The money won't make itself.
Amazingly, this grown man listens to him, taking his pants all the way off. He
leaves his baby blue dress shirt on, only opening the buttons for more
breathing room. Richard lays back on the bed. His erection stands there, damp
from Sam's saliva and dripping tiny droplets of precum. The teen goes to the
nightstand drawer to pull out a small bottle of lubricant. There's condoms in
there too; he grabs one of the larger ones. He returns to Richard and straddles
his lap, expertly slipping on the protection. He's clean and suspects that this
guy is as well, though he's just following Benny's rules. But then, in that
instant, Sam decides to disobey his "master's" orders.
He tears the condom off in a flash, lubing up his entrance and Richard's hard
tool at the same time. The nice man moans under him, squirming in great
delecation. Mrs. Dick probably doesn't do anything this good for him. That must
be why he's here after all. When Sam deems it well enough to continue, he lines
up the man's cock with his hole, sinking down on it in one go. Both of them
hitch their breaths. Sam more so than Richard. Even though he was plowed in
this very bed a short time ago, he's still not quite used to having sex.
There's always gonna be a burning sensation at first. Then the pleasure, though
Benny barely gives him that. He just fucks him and dumps him. So, he focuses on
Richard's satisfaction and not his own.
Sam bounces up and down on the married man's strong cock, trying his best to
envision himself far away from here. He retreats into his mind, as he always
does when doing this stuff. He plays games in his mind, like counting and
remembering how many steps there are in his apartment building. Or the number
of tiles on the kitchen floor. If you think about it, they aren't very
imaginative games. They aren't really games period, but it helps take Sam's
mind off of what's happening to his body. All too soon, Richard bucks his hips
up, harshly grabbing the squishy globes of Sam's ass. He pants as a warm
thickness shoots from his dick and into the boy's rectum.
It's over before it really even started. He doesn't blame him though. Like he
said, it's his first time with a boy like him. He must've been nervous. Because
he still feels a little sorry for the guy, Sam places a small peck on his
parted lips, smiling when that sweet, innocent blush appears on Richard's
features. He climbs off him, sitting on the bed cross-legged. The cum is
dripping out of his ass and onto the sheets. He doesn't care. It's not his. He
doesn't own anything but the brain in his skull. Soon enough, the family man
gets up, pulling on his pants. He chuckles to himself when he misses a few
buttons. Sam stands too, helping him out with that.
"There you go." He states as he stands there naked. The feeling of liquid
running down his leg is familiar, yet still uncomfortable. "Good as new."
Richard buckles his belt up again, grabbing Sam's hand. "I...thank you." He
digs in his wallet once again and pulls out a solid hundred dollar bill. "Take
it."
This shocks the boy. "What are you doing?"
"You're not like how some of the guys at work said your type are. You're
different I think. You take this. Think of it as a tip. Get a good meal or
something. Maybe try to get out of this life. You have potential. I know that
you think I'm doing this because the sex was good, but I'm not. I don't know
you well, but I know that you didn't choose this because you wanted to."
No one's ever said anything like this to him since he started whoring his body
out to strange men. This Richard man is a strange character. It's not like he's
trying to save him. Sam takes the money, albeit skeptically, and briefly hugs
the kind man. He offers the boy a ride back to the corner, but he declines,
saying that the shower calls his name. Richard nods at him for what he thinks
is the last time and leaves. After that, Sam goes to his shoe and puts the
other bill in there. He'll continue working tonight, but he'll keep that fifty
for himself. He's earned it. Benny can't keep controlling every aspect of his
life. It's gotta stop eventually.
Sam walks into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He climbs in as he is and
starts to lather the soap within his palms. When he was first introduced to sex
by Rick, that's all he did: shower. He tried to scrub away the filth, both
inside and outside. He was gentle--at first. He eased his way into it. Sam was,
and still is despite not being there, scared of Rick. He was all smiles when
his mom was around and alive. It all came tumbling down when he came home drunk
one night after she passed away. His stepfather lumbered into his room as he
was doing homework, mumbling about how that was boring and how he had a fun
idea. He began touching Sam's legs, hands wandering around the exposed flesh.
That's how it started. He should've killed Rick that night.
But he didn't. Sam couldn't. That's why he ran after the abuse escalated to
something like the violent rapes that he's subjected to now. Rick also started
involving his coworkers in their activities which was the final straw. When
he's finished with the shower, he dries off using the towel on the towel rack.
Benny left it there for him. Fuck him. He's a bastard. After getting dressed,
Sam takes a look in the mirror before departing back into the lonely streets of
the night. There's nothing for him anywhere. If he runs, Benny will find him.
If he goes to the police, he'll be sent back to Rick with the possibility of
Benny still following up on him.
It's a lose/lose situation no matter what he decides to choose. As Sam exits
the motel room, he looks across the street to see a man staring directly at
him. Not past him, or beside him, but right at him. It's like he can feel his
eyes raking over every detail of his body. From what he can see, this man has
on an all black outfit; his black trenchcoat flutters slightly in the wind. The
atmosphere can only be described as dark and cold. It's not all that strange
considering that it is in fact dark and cold out tonight. Sam turns to lock the
door, back to the mysterious stranger. But when he looks back across the
street, the man is nowhere to be found, almost like he disappeared into thin
air. Thinking nothing of it, the young teen pockets the key and starts to head
back to the corner he came from.
****
The walk isn't all that long, but it definitely isn't all that short either. It
takes nearly twenty minutes to get there on foot. Sam wishes that he still had
his phone so he could listen to music while walking. He had to sell it a while
ago to buy food. His Sixteen and having to live like this all because he
refuses to live with Rick. In all honesty, he'd rather die a thousand deaths
than stay another minute in Rick's grasp. Dear God, that sounds like death
enough. He wouldn't wish that punishment on his worst enemy. Sam knows that
he's has to get away from this. He always wanted to go to London, but there's
no way in Hell he'll get there any time soon.
When he rounds a corner a few blocks down, he see two guys. He knows who they
are immediately. They're these two rich frat boys who paid him nicely before.
Sam will never do what they want again. They're sick, but this path is the only
way back. He walks with his head down, determined not to catch their attention.
His efforts are futile though, as they recognize him in an instant. One of the
guys grabs his arm, not tightly. He smiles and makes kissy faces at the boy
with the other one just licks his lips. Ugh. It's disgusting and they're drunk
too! They smell like a brewery. Sam tries to excuse himself, but the man's
grasp on his arm becomes stronger.
"Hey, Sammy!" The douche with black hair says. That nickname died when his
mother did. "You have a little time for some fun with us?"
Never again.
"I, uh," He stumbles with his words. "I can't. I...I filled my quota for the
night. I was just headed home."
The blonde one scoffs, copping a feel on his ass and squeezing. "We could take
you there. No problem at all."
"N--No. That's okay. Thanks though..."
Black begins touching him sensually too. "We'll pay you, of course. Just like
last time. I know you appreciated the amount. Just let us do to you what we did
last time. How bout that? Don't you like getting fucked?"
Finding courage that he didn't know he had, Sam breaks free from the two men in
a desperate bid for escape. He doesn't get far, however, as they easily
recapture him, guiding him into a dark alley. He cries out for someone to help
him, but knows that no one will. Not in this neighborhood. Kicking and
screaming don't seem to be doing anything for him; they restrain him, pulling
off his shorts with difficulty. No. This can't be happening again! Why? Why
him!? What did he ever do to deserve such harsh treatment!? Just when he thinks
this, a miracle happens. Blondie, who was between his legs trying to gain
entry, is thrown off of him by someone.
Sam can't really see in the dark, but he knows where his pants are. He pulls
them up as he hears Black yelling at another person. He looks towards where the
other guy is looking and sees the man from earlier standing there. He's angry
looking. Most definitely. Why? Sam's a stupid little whore that's only good for
getting guys off. There's nothing special about him. Blondie is on the ground
crying, complaining about bleeding or something. Black is then picked up by his
throat, feet dangling and gasping for air. Sam can't really make sense of what
this is. The man in black turns to him--at least he thinks so--and speaks with
a protective tone of voice.
"Get out of here, Sam! Now!"
And he does. He runs out of the alley without a seconds glance. He pretends not
to hear the agonizing screams of the two men he left behind. Who was that
strange man and how did he know his name? Was he sent by Benny? No, he couldn't
have been because that bastard would've just let those guys take him for the
fucking money. This man is probably just a stalker. At least he's a stalker
that somewhat cares. Maybe. Sam doesn't know anything about him. He's never
even seen him before tonight. When he gets to the end of the block, he stops in
his tracks. There was a sound. Almost animalistic in nature. Like the roaring
of a wolf or something similar coming from the alley. He keeps running.
****
An hour has already passed by. In that time, he's been rented out by five other
guys. It's not surprising that they all wanted the last deal which is
everything. Sam's been told that he's sexy or sinfully good looking by the
older men that take him. He just doesn't see it for himself. Not anymore. His
self-esteem is nonexistent at this point. He doesn't even remember if it was
girls he was into before doing this awful job. And he still can't get the
events from earlier out of his head. There's something familiar about that guy.
Like news familiar. He could be the one responsible for the mysterious deaths
in this neighborhood. It's possible.
After thirty minutes of standing up, Sam sits down on a nearby bench. It's
almost time for him to go back home to be slapped around by Benny. He doesn't
understand why he does that to him. Sam completely understands that Benny's the
dominant male on their "relationship". So why? It's not like he's going to
leave, even if he's secretly plotting to. Is it to make a point? That he's a
manipulative, abusive, brute with zero self control? Yeah, that's what he is
alright. No doubts about that. And to think he hid it so well before. Benny is
a fucking psychopath that needs to be kept in a metal cage.
Soon, Sam is startled when he sees an all black car pull up near him. The
person inside honks once, beckoning him to come forward. He obliges, using the
bench as support to lift himself up. The window rolls down and Sam notices a
beautiful pair of sea green eyes. This man's hair is short and kinda blondish
brown. His outfit...it's the same as the one the guy in the alley wore. For the
second time tonight, a red flag is shown in his mind. Sam can tell that this
guy is having some sort of internal dilemma. Green Eyes smiles at him, though
it looks a bit forced. Almost as if he hasn't smiled in ages.
"Good Evening." He says it so clear, but his voice is gravelly. Just a tiny
bit. "Are you free as of right now?"
"I am." Sam doesn't know why he said that. He's supposed to go home soon. "Do
you require my services?"
Green Eyes smiles, genuinely this time. "Something of the sort. Would you like
to join me?"
This guy's speech is so...different. He talks funny. Like he's from another
point in time or whatever. Yet, even though he's just the slightest
apprehensive, Sam throws some caution to the wind and hops into the car with
the mystery man. The guy drives away then with Sam looking out the window. He
knows who this man is. He watched him from across the street and saved him from
those rich frat boys. He's still trying to figure out what he wants. Well, it's
kind of obvious, isn't it? Otherwise, he wouldn't have even dared to pick him
up from that corner. It dawns on Sam soon that they aren't going to the motel
or any of his usual spots.
"Where are we going?" He asks.
"Somewhere nice. Don't worry. I'm not going to harm you. I don't think I even
have it in me to achieve such a terrible act."
Wow. A gentleman. Those don't really exist where he comes from. But where does
this handsome stranger come from? Probably from a rich, refined family or
something like that. It doesn't bother Sam. A client is a client. He and his
family were middle class. His mother did leave him some money, but Rick took
over everything. He spent it all on booze and other stupid shit. As he zones
out, Green Eyes touches his knee, gaining his attention. He keeps his eyes on
the road; Sam notes mentally that they're on the highway to the rich and well-
to-do part of the city. What is this? Does he wanna fuck a dirty slut in his
clean bedroom? Oh well. It's his choice.
"In case you were wondering, my name is Dean. Dean Winchester."
"I'm Sam." The boy says automatically. He knows that Dean already knows his
name. "I don't usually talk with strangers like this."
"Well," Dean licks his lips very slightly, tongue peering out. "Now we're not
strangers anymore. Now that we know each other's names."
"That's fair...I suppose. Where are we going again?"
Dean grins. "You'll see soon."
****
This part of the city is really grand indeed. The skyscrapers literally look
like they're touching the sky. There are many men and women in fancy cars and
walking around in nice clothes. Dean leads them through mild traffic until he
stops the car in front of a fancy clothing store. The green eyed man exits the
car first, coming around the other side to open Sam's door. He extends his hand
forward for the kid to take. He does. This is nice and all, but what are they
doing here? Before he could even ask out loud, Dean huffs out a small laugh. He
leads Sam to the front of the door, keys in hand.
"I own this establishment, Sam." He informs as he unlocks the door. "I own a
multitude of businesses around this city."
Dean turns on the lights to the store. He shuts the door and puts down the
shutters in case of prying eyes apparently. The inside,of the building is as it
looks on the outside: extravagant. There are many men's clothes scattered
around on the racks and on the walls and display. Tuxedos, dress shirts and
pants as well as other clothing items. Sam stands as still as a board when
Dean's hand touches the small of his back, guiding him towards the smaller
men's section. Wait, what? What's happening? 
"Take your pick. I'll pay for it all. I'd like to take you out to dinner, if
that's something that you would enjoy?"
He tries so hard not to question the weird kindness that's coming from Dean,
but he wants to know. However, now isn't really the time. He's being treated
nice, so he's gonna keep advantage of it like this man wants him to. Sam grabs
a few outfits and accessories for himself and goes to the fitting rooms with
Dean silently trailing behind him. He doesn't go in with him, being the
gentleman that he is. Sam strip out of his disgusting clothes, tossing them in
the trashcan in the dressing room. He tries on a few things, feeling bad that
he's keeping Dean waiting. Soon, he exits the room. The look on the man's face
tells Sam all he needs to know: He looks amazing, or at the very least good.
The black jeans are slim fitted and give him a lot of breathing room. He's got
on a grey v-neck shirt with a black cardigan over it. Before going in, snagged
a pair of black shoes that are precisely his size. Sam took and put on a few
necklaces and bracelets, confident that what he picked out wouldn't cost too
much. As if sensing his thoughts, Dean chuckles, leaning on a rack of business
suit jackets. In this light, Sam takes a look at what he's wearing. He still
has that trenchcoat on, but his clothes resemble something like what a
professional businessman would wear. He makes it all look good.
"Impressive taste." Dean hums. "You look stunning. That will set me back almost
$6,000."
Sam almost chokes on his saliva. "What!? Oh, I--I'm sorry. I'll take it off and
get something else--"
"Don't." He interrupts, kissing Sam on the cheek. "I told you that I would pay
for anything you pick out. I constantly have money flowing in. I can afford
everything in this room, Sam. Including you. But I'd never purchase you. That
would be inhumane." He checks his watch. "We must be going soon. If you'd like
to quickly grab other things, then you can."
Who the hell is this Dean Winchester person?
****
He did grab a few more sets of outfits for himself. After the night is over,
Benny will ask him about the clothes and where he got them from. He'll be
truthful, saying that a kind stranger paid for them. Sam will most likely be
beaten for that answer. That's the cold truth of their relationship. He and
Dean left the store not long after getting the clothes; he put them in the
trunk for later. The blonde drives further down the street, explaining that he
also owns the restaurant that they'll be eating at. There's so many questions
that need to be asked, but he can't seem to open up his mouth.
They get to the beautifully decorated, beautifully designed establishment in no
time flat. There's even valet parking. Just how much money does Dean have? Sam
is led out of the car by the charming man and into the building. The waiter
welcomes them, taking them to the best seat of the place that's reserved only
for Dean. He pulls out the chair for Sam before seating himself across from
him. The menu looks weird; so many dishes that he's never even heard of. Dean
ends up ordering for him, promising that the dish will taste amazing. There's
wine at the table, but Sam chooses to drink water instead.
"Do you like this place, Sam?" Dean questions over his glass.
The boy nods. "Yes, I do. What do you do? You know, for work."
"I told you. I run and maintain numerous businesses such as this one."
"Right...but how? I mean, I just--never mind. You don't need to answer if you
don't want to. You're the guy paying for everything."
Dean does that sexy chuckle again. "No, no. It's quite alright. Let's see.
I...took over the businesses from the men and women who had them before me.
They were good friends of mine, you see. We've known each other for many long
years. I'm the only one of us left. I took over for them."
Because he's curious, Sam asks. "What happened to your friends?"
This seems to have a reaction within Dean. His jaw twitches. "They were
slaughtered by a group of very ignorant, hateful men. They were brought to
justice though."
"They're in prison?"
"No...they aren't."
Oh.
Sam's heart beats faster. What exactly is Dean implying right now? If they
aren't locked away, then where are they? That only leaves one other
explanation. It's a gruesome one that Sam doesn't dare say out loud.
Eventually, the food arrives and it looks delicious. Dean wasn't lying when he
said that it would be. It seems that he hasn't lied yet. But how would he even
know? He's still a mystery. A code that he can't decipher by any means. This
man, this handsome, seductive being sitting across from him is something else.
Sam doesn't miss the way his eyes twinkle up every time he catches Dean
staring, or the longer than usual touches.
He's an enigma. A shadow amongst shadows. As Sam digs into his meal, he
blushes. He can feel Dean's eyes on him like it's a physical presence. It's
like they're caressing his his skin, feeling on every curve of his body. He
wants this man to get whatever it is over with so he can go home. He hates it
when his clients draw out the inevitable. Either they fuck him, or they don't.
But if they don't, he won't get the money he nerds and if he doesn't get the
money, Benny will find worse ways to break him. His life is screwed up to the
point of no return. If he could turn back time, he'd make it so that his mother
wasn't walking home the night she died. Maybe then she wouldn't have gotten hit
by that drunk man. Or maybe he'd erase Rick from the timeline altogether.
Dean clears his throat. He didn't eat anything. Weird. "Tell me about yourself,
Sam. About what you like to do."
"I don't--can't--do anything." Sam's response is sullen, yet truthful. "I'm not
allowed to do anything. Just go to work and come home and..."
He doesn't say the last part aloud, but Dean understands. "Why are you doing
this? Why do you allow yourself to be used by the strange men?"
"I don't.. have a choice."
The blonde looks him in the eyes. "Everyone has a choice. Just like how I chose
to take you here. Now, how about we leave this place, hmm? I want to show you
something."
Sam doesn't say no.
****
They drive for ten minutes until Dean goes into an underground parking lot
under another skyscraper. As usual, he exits first and opens the door for Sam.
He has manners unlike any man he's ever come across. The pair get into an
elevator with Dean inputting a four digit code onto the keypad. The elevator
springs to life, carrying them up and up and up. During the ride, the blonde
stands as close to the boy as possible. Apparently he's never heard of personal
space, but Sam's strangely okay with that. He hears Dean sniffle; he doesn't
think nothing of it. Men usually smell him all the time. Soon, the doors open
up and reveal a huge penthouse.
Just by looking at it, he sees that it's bigger than the apartment he shares
with Benny. Correction: Benny's apartment that he shares with him. He doesn't
own anything. Maybe one thing. Sam leaves the elevator first, wandering around
the massive home without permission. For some reason, he already knows that
Dean doesn't mind it. The entrance is more like a huge lobby or ballroom. He
looks through one of the archways to see the kitchen through it. Next to him is
a spiral staircase. Everything in this house is--
"Magnificent." Dean grins, coming to stand near Sam in the middle of the room.
"It is." The boy agrees.
"You speak of my house, but I speak of you, Sam."
That blush on Sam's face comes back full force. Dean just has that effect on
him. Is it good or bad? He can't say. Soon, the rich man takes his hand,
turning to face him. He notices that Dean has a small remote in his hand. He
clicks a button on it once and music fills the air. The sound comes from the
huge stereo system near the grand piano off to the side. Sam recognizes that
the man singing is Frank Sinatra. He looks up at Dean, shaking his head. Is
this guy for real? He can't be. Men like him can't possibly exist. He places
his hand on the boy's hip, getting into a dancing position.
"May I have this dance?"
Once again, Sam doesn't say no. Soon, he's dancing with Dean, feet gliding
across the floor. He hasn't danced like this since his mother's wedding with
Rick a few years ago during the mother son dance. The memories are still fresh
in his head. They will be forever. He can't ever forget her face. She was loved
so much by him. Rick never loved her. He probably married her for Sam. He stops
thinking of the past and looks to the future, to the man who is literally
sweeping him off his feet. It might be the light, but Dean looks like he's
glowing; his eyes are brighter, the color more prominent. He just allows
himself to be twirled aound as the music continues to play.
Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like
on Jupiter and Mars.
In other words, hold my hand. In other words, Baby, kiss me.
Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more. You are all I long for,
all I worship and adore.
In other words, please be true. In other words, I Love You.
During the instrumental portion of the song, Dean pulls him close, spinning
them around in fast and fluid movements. His footwork is so fast that Sam just
bearly keeps up with him. He keeps his hand on Dean's shoulder as they move,
taking the time to think about what he's doing. He shouldn't be here. He
doesn't belong with him, in his world. There's more though. Even though they
just recently met, this has to be the happiest he's ever been in a long time.
This man ignites a fire inside of him. What is this feeling? Is it what he
thinks it is? Is this...is this what love feels like?
"You look nervous." Dean notes.
"I am."
"I see no reason why you should be. I won't hurt you."
"But why...?"
He looks at him, presumably debating on whether or not to say what's on his
mind. Finally, he does. "Because I've fallen in love with you, Sam."
When he kisses him, the music finishes.
Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more. You are all I long for,
all I worship and adore.
In other words, please be true. In other words, In other words...
I Love...You.
****
Dean carted him up the staircase after the song was over, kissing him madly. By
the time the make it to the bedroom, they're both naked and wanting more. He
delicately lays the young boy on the bed, going to kiss his chest and past his
navel. He puts Sam's erection into his mouth, tongue swirling about. Dean's
very talented at this it seems. The teen grips the sheets tight. No one had
ever cared about his satisfaction before, just their own. It's either forgot or
slipped over. Not this time. It feels like Heaven, like he's on cloud 9. This
hasn't happened to him before. There's so much pleasure just from a blowjob.
That's why those men love it so much.
The intensity of the act is too much. He warns Dean that he's about cum, but
the guy doesn't care. He spills his seed down his throat. The blonde swallows
it all down, locking eyes with Sam as he does so. He keeps sucking even after
his orgasm, driving the kid to the edge. It stops soon, leaving him panting,
gasping. Dean comes back up, slotting in between his legs again. His erection
rubs against Sam's thigh in a lewd fashion. He wants release too. He presses
kisses to the kid's neck, biting just a tiny bit. His teeth scrape the skin a
little. Odd. His teeth didn't look that sharp before. Oh well. He isn't going
to complain. It feels good.
"I'm sorry." He apologies in reference to ejaculating earlier than anticipated.
"No one has ever--It's been a while..."
"Never apologize to me, Sammy." Dean says his nickname. It feels right coming
from his lips. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've been caged for so
long. It's time to be free. I can help you. Let me pleasure you. Let me be
yours, as you can become mine in the process."
Suddenly, Sam's resolve breaks. He kisses Dean with newfound passion. He's
decided what he wants to do. He wants to spend his life with this man who so
quickly wormed his way into his heart. Yes, he was skeptical about him at
first, but not anymore. He's in love and while it seems like a spur of the
moment type deal, it isn't. He feels like he's known him for more than a couple
of hours. It feels like decades, centuries. It's strange, but those are his
feelings. Something about Dean makes Sam want to do things outside of his
comfort zone, like talking to other people; he was always a bit shy. In the
end, he stops kissing the handsome beast above him, bracketing his face in his
hands. That's when he confesses.
"I love you too, Dean."
****
He made love to the boy that hour, showing him what it's liked to receive love
instead of selling it on a constant basis. As expected, Dean made him feel
good. No, not good. He made him feel amazing. It was on another level, a whole
other spectrum! No one showed his body just tender loving or care. Rick--No! No
more Rick and no more Benny. It's not about them anymore! It's all about Dean
Winchester, the mysterious man who caused him to fall in love. It parallels
slightly to his life with Benny, though it's way different. He feels it. He
feels the love when Dean says that he loves him. There's nothing else there but
love. No more fear. Maybe some, but not a lot.
Sam lays his head on Dean's chest. His heartbeat...it sounds distant. "I have
nothing to go back to."
"Which is why I want you to stay. With me. I can give you everything that you
desire. Before I saw you, I wanted to...well, that doesn't matter anymore."
Wanted to what? Kill him? Rape him? He knows next to nothing about Dean so it's
possible that he was planning on killing him when he first saw him. With these
killings happening to local clients and pimps and whores, that incident in the
alley couldn't have been a coincidence. He hasn't admitted it yet, but Sam
knows who he really is. Dean murdered those men tonight, just like he killed
those other people too. The boy sits up, looking at his new lover, eyes
searching for the truth. He wants to know. He needs to know so that he can
trust him. Dean sits up too. He looks prepared to answer the question that
knows is coming.
"Are you the killer?"
Dean's lips twitch. He then nods. "I am. I won't lie to you. I killed those
people in the past few days. I had to."
He won't question it further. Sam also nods, kissing Dean on the lips. "Okay.
I...won't ask. Not now at least. But I need your help."
****
There's always a feeling of dread when Sam sees Benny's apartment building. He
can see it from down here. The lights are all off. He's either not home and out
looking for him, or he's home sleeping, exhausted after searching for his
whore. Not anymore. Sam refuses to be Benny's personal plaything any longer.
Dean drove them back to the neighborhood he lives in under the boy's
instructions. The nicely dressed man still doesn't quite understand why they're
here as Sam hasn't given him an explanation. He exits the car, telling him that
he'll be back soon. Dean protests for a second, but that's before the young man
kisses his cheek.
The building isn't that huge, but it has ten floors. Thankfully, he lives up on
the third floor. He bounds up the stairs two at a time, expensive shoes echoing
in the halls. If any of the neighbors see how he's dressed, they'll try to take
his clothes and sell them on the streets for drugs or money or both. Soon, he
gets to the front door. Benny never gave him a key, allowing him to use the
spare key under the welcome matt. How bad is that? Sam quietly unlocks the
door, throwing the key down the hall in frustration. Feels kinda good to lash
out. He sneaks in, silently closing the door behind him.
Inside, the living room is clean. Small, but clean. Benny forces Sam to do the
laundry and all of the other mundane chores around the house. He's more of a
slave than anything else. He sinks around the apartment in the dark; he
memorized where every object lays. The boy makes it to the master bedroom.
Thankfully, no one's in here. Benny or otherwise. He brings home random people
sometimes and makes Sam watch as he fucks them. Never more. He gets to the
dressed near the window. Before opening the drawer, he looks out, gazing down
at Dean's parked car. He's still in there. Good. Sam digs through the dresser,
tossing out the skimpy clothing he was forced to wear. He keeps searching until
he finds what he's looking for. 
It's a picture of Sam and his mother, just days before her untimely demise. She
died young. She was beautiful, way too good for Rick by a long shot. In the
picture, they're smiling, cheeks pushed together and grinning. The edge of the
picture has been cut by him. It had Rick's face in it. He doesn't need to be
reminded of him in the only possession that he owns. The teen folds the object
and slips it in his back pocket, happy that the deed is done. This is what he
came for. Very suddenly, the bedroom light turns in. Sam freezes, but quickly
turns around. There's Benny, clearly angry. His nostrils are flaring, but
there's a confused look in his eyes. Probably because of what the boy has on.
He clenches his fists, shaking.
"Where were you." Benny says in a calm tone. "I checked everywhere for you, you
know. The other boys said that some guy in a black car took you away. And what
the hell is this!? You letting some nobody take you out and buy you shit!? Have
you lost your fucking mind!?"
Sam flinches as his the man's voice spikes. "I--I'm sorry! I--He took me around
t--town and showed me nice things. He's sweet to me."
Benny closes the distance between them to viciously backhand the kid. "You
don't talk to those men, you hear me!? You know that you only spread your legs
and nothing else! Now take that shit off and you give me the money you got
tonight. Fucking bitch..."
"No..." He whimpers on the floor.
"No...?" This makes the man even more furious than he already is. "I'm sorry,
but did you just say no to me? Who the fuck do you think you are!?" He swings
his foot out and it connects to Sam's stomach. "You meet some fucking rich guy
and suddenly you start becoming disobedient? What, is he filling your head with
lies with dumb fantasies of a better life!? Wake up! I'm the only one who will
treat you this good! No one will ever give you the time of day!"
Sam shrieks then. "Dean! Dean, please help me!"
"Aww! You gonna call for 'Dean'?" Benny mocks him. "That's his name?" He pulls
out his gun and points it at Sam's head. "Call him if you want. He's not gonna
save you. I told you to get your act together a while ago, bitch. Now I gotta
punish you."
"Put the gun down."
The boy looks up to see Dean standing in the doorway. His trenchcoat is off,
showing his charcoal colored dress shirt; the sleeve ate rolled up. How'd he
get here so fast? Did he fly up here or something. There are things that Sam
has seen or heard tonight that don't really make sense. For now, he's just
relieved that his black knight in shining armor is here to help him. However,
Benny turns the gun on him, snarling like an animal. If he treats him like
shit, why does he care what happens to him and who he chooses to sleep with? He
was a prostitute! It doesn't matter now. Sam's scared for Dean's life at this
moment. He doesn't want to watch someone he loves die.
Benny scoffs. "You must be Dean. You think you can just come in my apartment
and turn my fucking bitch against me!? I don't think so. You need to get the
hell outta here."
Dean keeps his hands at his sides, unbothered by the pistol pointed at him.
"Mr. Lafitte, I implore you to put away the gun."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull the trigger!"
"Because you'd regret it immensely. It doesn't have to end this way. No one
needs to get hurt. Let him leave. I don't want Sam to see what happens...to
you."
"To me?" He chuckles. "Right. See you in Hell, motherfucker."
Sam doesn't get the chance to even scream out as he hears two shots being fired
from Benny's gun. He closes his eyes tightly, awaiting the hard thud of Dean's
body. When he doesn't hear it, he becomes concerned. When he reopens his eyes,
he witnesses a very horrifying sight. Not only is Dean alive and well, but the
bullets slowly push themselves out of his chest. They hit the carpet soon
after. That's when the changes happen. Four teeth sharpen and extend, parallel
to each side. His eyes flash a light shade of blood red. Dean lunges forward,
attacking Benny's neck.
He literally sinks his teeth down into him, staring at Sam the entire time. The
evil bastard screams in pain, trying and failing to get away. This can't be
real! This isn't real! He's frozen on the spot, unable to move. As if sensing
the distress from the boy, Dean stops, going behind Benny to brutally snap his
neck. There are no words to describe what Sam's feeling right now. Maybe fear?
But he's not fearing for his own life here. Dean uses one of the boy's
discarded shirts to wipe the blood from his mouth. They stare at each other,
both of them not saying a word until he starts to ask him a question. A
question that he knows the answer to. It all makes sense.
"What are you?" Sam whispers.
Dean smirks, unintentionally flashing his abnormally white teeth. "I'm
something less than you, yet so much more."
"You're a vampire." It isn't a question.
"My kind are called many things, but yes. That is one of them." He admits. "I
hope that this doesn't change anything between us. I don't know what I would do
if I...if I lost you so soon."
"I'm not afraid of you if that's what you're worried about. I guess that I'm
scared of what you can do more than anything. I know that you won't hurt me
intentionally." He's being way too calm about this. Maybe he'll freak out
later. Then, he asks because he needs to know. "Are you going to turn me?"
"That is entirely up to you, not me. I'd love you alive and even in undeath. I
won't turn you unless you absolutely want me too. I want you to have a choice
as I never did."
Sam manages to smile despite the circumstances. "Didn't you say that everyone
has a choice earlier?"
The supernatural creature of the night says nothing more on the matter. He only
grins and leads them out of the building down to the street below. They enter
the car as sirens sound away in the distance. Dean drives off without a second
glance, heading back to his home. Their home. Sam thinks that he can live with
this slight abnormality in his lover's behavior. It's not like he's gonna chop
him up into tiny little pieces and eat him. But yeah, it's not a big deal.
Dating a vampire. He's actually being delusional if he thinks that it's not a
big deal. It's a life changing decision.
He thinks of the vampiric lore. The sun, the cross, the garlic. He has to ask
Dean about this sometime. It can wait, but the story of his friends make sense
now. They were probably murdered by Vampire Hunters. Dean said they were
ignorant men. He said it with such disdain. If there are people out there that
want to hurt him, then Sam's staying by his side to protect him. He doesn't
have any skills to protect himself--he's not even a vampire--but he'll do what
he can...because that's what you do when you love someone with all your heart.
Dean reaches over and grabs his hand while still looking ahead, fingers fitting
together like pieces to a puzzle.
Suddenly, Sam's not so nervous anymore.
****
It's after midnight right now and nothing. No calls from the police or anything
regarding Sam's whereabouts. It's not like Rick cares. He just has to pretend
that he does so as to not seem like a complete asshole. He honestly does miss
the kid though. Misses his tight heat more. He was so responsive, but then he
had to fucking leave when the shit was getting good. Oh, whatever. He'll come
back eventually. Sam isn't cut out to make it in the outside world. That little
shit is too fragile. No doubt that he's probably turning tricks for a hot meal.
At least he's getting paid for what he does best.
Rick throws the empty beer bottle at the wall, grunting in obvious frustration.
He has squandered Sam's inheritance and has no money of his own. This is a low
point, even for him. Shouldn't have spent it all on hookers and beer and
cocaine. Now he takes up odd jobs to support his filthy habits. Fuck. Just as
the drunkard gets up for another bottle, the doorbell rings. Who the fuck is it
at this hour? Rick doesn't bother looking through the peephole to see who it
is, just swinging it open. There's a man with Sam, dressed all in black. He
looks rich, but more importantly, the little fucker is back! He looks nice,
surprisingly. Well dressed too; those clothes look expensive.
"Sammy?" He queries. He's slurring his speech a little. "Is that you? You
little bitch, you had me worried."
Sam frowns. "I want my mom's stuff back. Everything."
"What's that? Your mother's shit? Boy, I had to live off of something. I don't
have a job anymore. Not since after you fucking ran out on me. I sold all her
stuff. Everything. You coming home or not? I'm kinda horny..."
There's a pained expression on his face, but Sam drops it. It's replaced with
something else that Rick can't figure out in his inebriated state. The boy soon
nods to his companion who only nods back. All too quickly, Rick is pushed back
inside of the house with the force of an elephant. He ends up on his back,
panting heavily. The wind was knocked out of him. He's left staring up at the
ceiling until Sam's mysterious man comes into view. The teen's voice is heard,
but he's not seen. The man puts his foot on Rick's chest to prevent him from
getting up. What's going on? What's this bullshit!?
"Dean, I think it's a good time for you to feed. You need your strength."
Rick screams in terror as this Dean fellow's face shifts into something
nightmarish and unholy. Piercing red eyes are the last thing he sees...
End Notes
     Well...? :)
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