Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1243345.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Sonny_(Supernatural)/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sonny_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Gift_Fic, Age_Difference, Bottom_Dean, Anal_Fingering, Underage_Sex,
      Episode:_s09e07_Bad_Boys, Lolita!Dean
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-27 Words: 2874
****** Walking on a Wire ******
by sleepypercy
Summary
     Sonny had, of course, noticed how obscenely beautiful Dean was,
     although he'd never planned on doing anything about it. Dean,
     however, doesn't seem to know how to leave things alone.
     (Set in 16-year-old Dean flashbacks from Episode 9x07: Bad Boys)
Notes
     So I wasn't planning on posting this (I have this fear that someone's
     gonna judge me super hard). But I wrote this for my friend
     containerpark (LJ) who wanted to read Sonny/Dean and couldn't find it
     anywhere, and I figured if, in a random crazy happenstance, someone
     else wanted to read this pairing, I'd go ahead and post so it's out
     there.
Sonny had seen the way Dean had flushed at his praise, proud of himself for
achievements he’d obviously thought were never an option with the way he’d
lived. Dean didn’t talk much about where he’d come from, but Sonny knew
whatever life Dean had led before coming to the boys home, it hadn’t been an
easy one. Nor had it allowed for simple, regular teenage experiences like
sports and school dances.

As they left the diner, Sonny couldn’t resist cupping his hand around the back
of Dean’s neck and squeezing lightly, needing an outlet to express his pleasure
at seeing Dean fall so naturally into a normal, healthy life.

The boy ducked his head as a pleased grin spilled across his face then turned
to study Sonny from the side, his eyes framed by lashes thick enough to fan a
shadow over those bright green irises. A passing appreciation of Dean’s beauty
shuddered guiltily inside Sonny, although he tried to stonewall that thought
before it went too far. But the edges of the boy’s mouth twitched, as if he
were aware of the war going on inside Sonny’s mind. Dean’s tongue darted out to
wet his lips, slower than seemed necessary, before he dragged his lower lip
under his teeth, letting his spit shine lips that were fuller and pinker than
those of any girl Sonny had ever met.

Sonny jerked his hand back – maybe a bit too quickly, judging by Dean’s
startled jolt. Too shaken to come up with a convincing explanation, Sonny
avoided Dean’s eyes and reached down to open the car door.

He didn’t, however, fail to notice Dean’s thoughtful expression during the car
ride, nor the way Dean kept darting glances at Sonny, eyes burning like a brand
every time they grazed across his face.

*&*

Sonny had his hands full when they got back, making sure all the boys got their
chores and homework done for the night. He tried to push aside the awkward
moment with Dean, hoping they’d both forget about it in a couple of days.

It was only a few hours later that Dean found Sonny sweeping inside the barn.
One of the newer boys had helped out with the animal feeding that day and had
been sloppy about it, creating a mess that trailed all the way from the animal
stalls to the back storage area.

Sonny was in the middle of pushing the scattered feed across the floor with a
broom when he heard light footsteps and a quiet, “Hey.”

He looked up to see Dean standing across the space, his hands shoved in his
leather jacket and his hair carefully styled into messy bed-head spikes. The
boy looked nervous, although he was trying to hide it. But the flush on his
cheekbones gave him away, as did the involuntary twitch on the corners of his
lips. Some vague anxiety churned Sonny’s stomach, jagged and fast like
rototiller blades, causing him to turn away and resume sweeping.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping with the dinner dishes?” he asked, a little
too sharply.

“They’re finished,” Dean calmly answered.

“Homework?” he grunted out, slamming the broom harder into the floor and
refusing to turn around.

The response came just inches behind his elbow, startling Sonny enough to make
him drop the broom, the clatter loud and shattering in the quiet barn. Shit,
Dean sure knew how to sneak up on a guy.

“It’s done. You checked it earlier. Remember?” Dean said, looking vaguely
amused at Sonny’s clumsiness.

Cursing under his breath, Sonny started to bend down to reach for the broom,
but Dean beat him to it – the kid had some lightning-quick reflexes – pulling
it off the floor and leaning into the handle.

“You want some help?” Dean asked, and this time Sonny couldn’t help looking
into that young face, eyes darting across smooth cheekbones and the delicate
scattering of freckles that all-but begged for a fingertip to connect into
constellations.

Trying not to sound angry, Sonny shook his head and gave Dean a firm, “No. No,
I’ve got this. You can hand over the broom then head back up to the house.”

Dean frowned and tightened his hands around the handle, which was still butted
up in the groove in the middle of his chest. “Okay,” he said with a small
shrug, his eyes narrowed. “You can take it back, if you want it.”

Sonny waited for Dean to back off and hand over the broom, but Dean just stood
there, chin tilted up in a challenging motion.

Quickly tired of whatever game the boy was playing, Sonny sighed and grabbed
the handle, his fingers sliding against Dean’s chest as Dean continued leaning
forward. When Sonny yanked the broom towards him, Dean let go easily with a
small smile on his face that Sonny didn’t trust.

He was right to doubt that smile.

Taking a step forward, Dean pushed himself uncomfortably close to Sonny,
putting a hand back on the handle of the broom as his eyes glanced up at the
older man from underneath damnably-thick lashes.

“I know you want me,” he said, face serious and assessing as he watched Sonny’s
jaw tighten uncomfortably. “Believe me, I know the signs. You don’t need to
feel guilty because I get it. I trust you. And I… I want to do this.” Dean
licked his lips again then leaned in, intent clear on his face.

Before Dean could get too close, Sonny shoved the end of the broom handle into
Dean’s chest and growled out, “You don’t know what you want, kid. Or what
you’re offering. Fuck, you’ve only known me a month. Do you know what kind of
monsters are out there? Men that would happily take advantage in ways you’re
not prepared for? You can’t go throwing yourself into this like it’s nothing.”

Something heated flashed behind Dean’s eyes, making Sonny wonder again at the
kind of life he’d lived before coming here.

“I know exactly what kind of monsters are out there,” Dean answered, voice low
and dangerous, and Sonny absolutely believed him. “I’m not a child. I don’t
know if I ever was. And if you’re worried about your reputation or the law,
don’t. I don’t go running my mouth off about things like this. And it’s not
like anyone would believe me even if I did.”

That strange mixture of cockiness and self-disregard had fascinated Sonny from
the moment he’d met Dean, when he’d recognized all the desperation and
insecurity radiating off the boy, that deep-rooted need for Dean to prove he
could handle himself in an adult world. Sonny didn’t doubt that Dean had seen a
lot of scary-ass things in his life, and he didn’t doubt that Dean knew how to
take care of himself. But regardless of what Dean may say, he was still a child
in a very real way. And since Sonny didn’t know any other way to prove to Dean
just how serious a thing he was offering, he decided to toss Dean right into
the fire, scare some sense into him.

Letting the broom fall to the floor, Sonny grabbed Dean by the shoulders and
slammed him into the side of the stall, Dean’s teenage frame just small enough
to tuck into the hard wooden side. Ignoring the perverse thrill that ran
through him at getting his hands on this stupidly beautiful boy, Sonny pressed
himself tight against Dean’s compact body, locking Dean against the wall with
his hips and hands. He grabbed at Dean’s jacket, yanking it through his arms
then pulling off the thin t-shirt underneath. With his arms wrapped around
Dean’s back, Sonny jerked the boy up so he could put his mouth on Dean’s chest,
sucking and biting around Dean’s collarbone and shoulders.

When Dean cocked his head to the side, revealing a smooth line of skin below
his ear, Sonny moved his mouth up, nipping and biting across Dean’s neck then
moving up the side of Dean’s face until he finally got a chance to cover that
smartass, cocky mouth with his own.

He’d wanted to scare Dean with the reality of what could be rough and
impersonal, to prove that Dean wasn’t ready for this. What Sonny didn’t expect
was for Dean to instinctively mold himself into whatever Sonny wanted, letting
his body be thrown around like it was made for this. Sonny hadn’t imagined Dean
would be this soft and willing and eager. The harder he shoved Dean into the
unforgiving wooden wall, the more the kid whimpered and shivered and squirmed.
At first Sonny had triumphantly assumed he’d gotten through to Dean; frightened
him into realizing the cold reality of throwing himself at an older man. But
when their legs finally shifted to slot them together, Sonny felt Dean’s hard
erection jutting into his leg, and he realized that Dean was getting off on
this. That he wanted more.

So he pushed himself off Dean, angry that this hadn’t worked; that the only
thing it had proved was that Sonny was a dirty pervert getting off on
manhandling a teenage boy.

He left Dean in the barn, refusing to look back because he had to get out of
there before what little self-control he had left crumbled entirely.

*&*

Sonny managed to avoid Dean for three days. It wasn’t difficult; there weren’t
a lot of chances for one-on-one time, not with a house full of boys with school
work to check and never-ending chores to supervise.

He knew Dean hadn’t forgotten, though. As often as possible, Dean would brush
against Sonny, pushing himself into his side when they were in the kitchen,
living room, hallway, yard. Then, before Sonny could even think to chew him out
or swat him out of his space, Dean could smirk and roll himself away, eyes
catching Sonny’s as he walked on, daring Sonny to say or do something.

It wasn’t entirely a surprise when Sonny returned to his room one night,
freshly showered with a towel slung around his hips, to find Dean waiting for
him inside. He was, however, startled to find Dean waiting like this.

The boy was lying belly down on top of Sonny’s bed, his legs kicked wide open
while his hand reached back between his cheeks, three of his fingers working
deep inside himself. Muted moans floated back from where Dean’s face was
pressed into the mattress.

Sonny was frozen in place, unable to tear his eyes away. The boy’s hole was
squelching wet and worked into a deep, puffy pink that matched the salty flush
running up the sides of Dean’s legs and across his back.

Next to Dean’s knee was a bottle that Sonny recognized as belonging in his
right-side dresser drawer, a quarter of its contents shining around Dean’s
fingers and dripping down his arm.

“What are you doing?” Sonny asked when he managed to shake himself back to
awareness with a deep, unsteady inhalation.

Dean glanced around his shoulders, fingers still working in and out at a pace
that made his arm start to shake. His cheeks were stained red, although Sonny
was sure it was more arousal than embarrassment.

“Waiting for you,” Dean breathed out in a hoarse stutter, his eyes briefly
squeezing shut when his fingers moved even further inside. “C’mon, Sonny. I
trust you. I want you to fuck me. Please.”

In all his years of overseeing a boys home, Sonny had never allowed himself to
cross the line, even in thought. But Dean was… something else. Sonny had never
met someone as tempting and as needy as this young man, all hard edges and
broken glass wrapped inside soft, freckled skin and green eyes. And the thing
was – Sonny felt like Dean really did need this; he needed to be touched and
soothed and worshipped because words fell so pitifully short of making Dean
believe he was actually worth anything.

Shoving aside the last of his reservations and dropping his towel, Sonny walked
to the edge of the bed and grabbed the hand Dean was using to open himself up
with.

He held onto that hand for a moment, angling Dean’s fingers to tug wider,
pushing them a little deeper. Sonny’s other hand slid around the rim, and he
marveled at how open Dean was, unable to resist pressing the tips of his own
fingers into the edge of Dean’s stretched, sore hole already tight around the
boy’s fingers. A whining, desperate sound grated up of Dean’s throat, and Sonny
shivered at that pitch, lower and deeper than any sixteen year old had a right
to sound. Sonny’s cock drooled out precome in response, and he reached down to
gather it in his hand and slick it up the sides of his cock. He was already
hard; had been from the moment he’d entered the room and saw Dean spread out on
his bed like a fuckin’ gift that Sonny didn’t have the willpower to return.

Sonny rubbed a hand up the side of Dean’s back, and Dean leaned into his open
palm, perpetually touch-starved and shamelessly clinging to every physical form
of affection. Between Dean’s thighs, Sonny could see his hard, untouched cock
dribbling precome onto Sonny’s bedspread.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Sonny said, leaning his cheek against the back of
Dean’s head, and he felt a little dizzy at the sound of his own words said
aloud. “Because I think you really want this, and I believe you can handle it.
And maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I know better, but you’re the hottest thing to
ever cross my bed, and I’m only human, Dean. But this is a one-time thing.
That’s all I’m prepared to give here. You understand?”

“Yeah.” Dean’s voice was still a register lower than normal, the gritty rasp of
it vibrating low in Sonny’s belly. “I understand.”

He tugged at Dean’s hand, feeling Dean’s chest shudder as soon as his fingers
fell out and left his hole gaping and empty. It wasn’t more than a few seconds,
however, before Sonny pushed his cock inside, and Dean swallowed him up,
clenched around him so fast and tight that Sonny had to brace his hands on
Dean’s hips, a small grunt jumping out his throat.

Dean felt like an ocean underneath Sonny, rolling back into every thrust and
grunting demands to be fucked harder when Sonny hesitated to push too hard.

“C’mon, man,” Dean panted, voice up in a whine as he reached back to grab at
Sonny’s thigh. “Not gonna break. Fuck me like you mean it.”

When Sonny hooked an arm around Dean’s chest and started slamming hard and
fast, giving Dean what he wanted, Dean groaned and let his face drop to the
bedspread, sharp grunts punching out from somewhere deep in his chest. It
wasn’t until Dean’s cries got louder that Sonny remembered how thin the walls
were and how little privacy he had in this place.

His hand clamped over Dean’s mouth, muffling shouts and covering heavy
breathing, forcing his air to go in and out his nose. Reaching around Dean’s
belly, Sonny groped downward, wrapping his hand around Dean’s stiff cock,
dripping heavily with precome and lube that had trickled down. Dean’s moans
intensified against Sonny’s palm as he stroked up and down the boy’s prick,
spit leaking out the sides of Dean’s mouth and dripping between Sonny’s
fingers.

Sonny really hadn’t expected Dean to last long, not with the way the kid was
writhing underneath him and especially not with his sixteen-year old hormones.
Within minutes, Dean was shooting into Sonny’s palm, hips jutting forward as he
exhaled into a deep orgasm, his teeth clenching around two of Sonny’s fingers
in a painful bite that felt way too good with the adrenaline and dopamine
running through Sonny’s body.

Sonny continued to fuck into Dean’s rag-doll boneless body, Dean breathing hard
and lying flat into the mattress, jerking forward every time Sonny slammed into
him. It didn’t take long for Sonny to feel that building pressure in his balls,
remembering himself just in time to pull his cock out, his come splattering
across the boy’s naked ass.

Still panting into the bedcovers, Dean looked beautifully destroyed – his skin
dappled with an uneven pink flush; his hairline, hips, and the creases
underneath his arms and knees dripping with salty beads of sweat; and the bow
of his back and swell of his ass dotted and streaks with Sonny’s come.

It was an image that wasn’t likely to fade soon from Sonny’s memory.

He reached down to grab the towel he’d dropped on the floor earlier, using it
to clean Dean off with before making a half-hearted attempt at wiping off the
bedcovers.

When he was finished, he lay down next to Dean, putting his arms around the kid
who seemed suddenly shy in the aftermath of fucking. There was no way Sonny was
letting Dean stay the night – he didn’t want Dean getting the wrong idea, and
he’d meant what he’d said about this being a one-time deal. But for the moment,
as Dean sighed and adjusted himself to fit snugly against Sonny’s chest, Dean’s
warm body felt too good for Sonny to say anything just yet.
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