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Oct. 7th, 2009 05:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withimpunityalready i'm wasting away - preseries
Fifty dollars for a blow, hundred and you can fuck me.
The brick is cool and damp against Dean's ass from the humidity in the air. He closes his eyes and pushes his fingers into the kids hair, soft and brown, shaggy enough to know he hasn't had a trim in a few months, curls around the nape of his neck and behind his ears. When Dean opens his eyes again, the kid's looking up at him with those round, brown eyes as he sucks him off. He can't be more than sixteen, face still baby smooth, acne dotted across his nose and forehead. When his bangs fall in front of his eyes Dean comes, ignoring the face that flashes behind his eyes.
"Uh. Thanks, kid." He mumbles as he tucks himself back into his pants.
The kid just laughs and waves the fifty dollar bill in Dean's face. "No Mister, thank you."
Dean watches him walk away, lanky legs and fraying jeans, slumped shoulders. He's too young to be pulling tricks, Dean thinks. Why doesn't he have anyone to look after to him? There's no way in hell he'd ever let Sammy do anything like that. Dean sighs and pulls the flask out of his jacket pocket, taking a swig of the whiskey as the kid disappears out of sight. Doesn't matter anyway; Sam's not his to look after anymore.
Fifty dollars for a blow, hundred and you can fuck me.
The brick is cool and damp against Dean's ass from the humidity in the air. He closes his eyes and pushes his fingers into the kids hair, soft and brown, shaggy enough to know he hasn't had a trim in a few months, curls around the nape of his neck and behind his ears. When Dean opens his eyes again, the kid's looking up at him with those round, brown eyes as he sucks him off. He can't be more than sixteen, face still baby smooth, acne dotted across his nose and forehead. When his bangs fall in front of his eyes Dean comes, ignoring the face that flashes behind his eyes.
"Uh. Thanks, kid." He mumbles as he tucks himself back into his pants.
The kid just laughs and waves the fifty dollar bill in Dean's face. "No Mister, thank you."
Dean watches him walk away, lanky legs and fraying jeans, slumped shoulders. He's too young to be pulling tricks, Dean thinks. Why doesn't he have anyone to look after to him? There's no way in hell he'd ever let Sammy do anything like that. Dean sighs and pulls the flask out of his jacket pocket, taking a swig of the whiskey as the kid disappears out of sight. Doesn't matter anyway; Sam's not his to look after anymore.
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Date: 2009-10-08 03:53 am (UTC)