HIS CYCLE
AUTHOR'S NOTE/DISCLAIMER
I've read some fics with Dean selling his body for money, and I wanted to give it a go with Sam in a similar position. Takes place pre-series. Sam is sixteen. Belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. Done narrative style with some minimal dialogue. Has underage sex, so be warned.
They were out of money again. Sam could tell by the way Dean and Dad were whispering together, probably trying to figure out a pool scam. Sam had to smile at the way they would try to hide their money problems from him, as if he couldn't tell when they were low or just plain broke. He cleared his throat and the two looked at him.
"What's going on?" he questioned casually.
"Nothing you need to worry about, Sammy," Dean told him. Yep. They were definitely broke. Dean always told him not to worry when things were like this.
"Go do your homework, Sammy," John added. Sam let out a scoff, but did as he was told. They didn't they realize that they were just giving themselves away by acting like this? However, he did as he was told. Later that night, after he was sure that both his father and brother were asleep, Sam grabbed his wallet and snuck out of the hotel room, being careful not to disturb the salt lines. Then, he made his way over to a local strip club he had noticed when they had first arrived. One of the talents that he had that his father and brother prided on was his ability to read people, places, and situations. He could talk with someone, look at an establishment, or be in a setting and almost immediately know what was going on. What John and Dean were unaware of, however, was that Sam used this to segue into a hidden talent that he only used in extreme emergencies such as now. He gave his i.d. to the bouncer who let him in, and then made his way to the back, where he met the manager. At first the man was hesitant to let such a young face go on fearing a trap, but after undoing a couple of buttons and using his baby face to make a pout, Sam gained his permission. As he went backstage, Sam smirked as he refastened his buttons. These guys were so easy. He was slated as third to go on. When it was his turn, he began his usual routine, pretending to be shy and doing an awkward dance, complete with a subtle robot. Then, he unbuttoned his shirt. The crowd hooted in approval. The boy had to fight a smile. Adults were so easy. All you had to do was pretend to be awkward and flash a little skin, and they ate you right up. Of course, the bigger bucks came after…when you were purchased. To his surprise, he was bought rather quickly. He allowed the man to pull him off the stage and then lead him to a back room. The man shoved him onto the bed, but he didn't object. They liked it when you were silent. It made them feel in control.
"Strip," the man ordered.
"You want a show?" Sam offered. The man grinned.
"Done this before, have you?" he leered.
"Once or twice," came the modest response. The man paused, thinking. Then, he shook his head. "Just strip," he ordered. Sam nodded and complied with the command. Once he was undressed, the man was on top of him, letting his hands roam. Sam made the appropriate noises at the right intervals until the man was satisfied and handed him some more bills.
"Go. Get out of here." Sam got dressed and then did what he was told. The boy quietly snuck back into the house, once again being mindful of the spirit deterrents laid out. He placed the money on the kitchen table and then crawled back into bed. The next morning, John found the money and questioned Dean, who denied knowing anything about it. They didn't even think to ask him. They never did. As he and Dean followed John's truck in the Impala, Sam tried to feel guilty for what he had done, but couldn't. How could he? They'd eventually run out of money again, and Sam would just do the exact same thing that he always did. It was his cycle.
THE END