The Freshman Project
15yr old Dean Johnson snaps and sells himself for the drugs he craves. Knocked up and homeless is how seniors Sam and his roommate Castiel discover him. Now he starts a new life living with them, but the addiction is never gone... Sam/Dean Mpreg
Everything hurt, a fine sheen of sweat rolled down his face and burned his eyes and his chapped lips. Thirst ravaged his throat viciously as withdrawal slowly murdered him from the inside out. He let out a long groan and dug his fingers into the dirt around him, the dirt was forced under his chewed up nails.
He needed that high, the weight to just fall away so he was light enough to fly to a place where he wasn't (useless, hopeless, WHORE.)So fucked up and ruined.
Luis wet a cloth and pressed it to his forehead, Dean saw him wince in sympathy at the burning heat of Dean's body. Jo sat off to the side with her face turned away from Dean as though that would hide the sobs that racked her tiny body.
Everything was cold (inside and out, like you) so goddamn cold everything inside him is freezing solid till he's ice all the way through and his heart can't beat no more. He hasn't been in school for a week and his shoulder length blond hair, always cut in choppy layers and usually cleaned in the sink of a public bathroom hasn't been washed in all that time and hangs limp and greasy. No money for drugs, and now he's dying a slow agonizing death. And he doesn't want to die, he's never considered death, though with his life he should but now he really, really doesn't want to go.
They'll have to bury him alive!
And with that thought his back arches as a new wave of pain and nausea-the warm kind that makes him thankful for the spring night breeze-hits him and Luis just barely manages to get him on his side before he's emptying his stomach of the little fluid it held and some just dribbles down his chin. It joins the mess of vomit and urine where Dean is laying feeling like dying but not wanting to go. Luis groans and gags next to him.
"Sorry." He groans out and Luis smiles, not at all forced like he imagines anyone else's would be if in this situation and shakes his head as he wrings out the towel and lays a new one on the his forehead. "Don't be." He murmurs in his comforting southern drawl and Dean groans and heaves himself back over to his back where he can't see the mess he's made. Jo shifted next to him, picking up a blanket and draping it over the mess, she'll probably get her mother to wash it for them but for now it serves it's purpose as to help Luis and Jo keep down food.
"Wish we could help, no money though." She's turned to him and he has to struggle to make out her words. He laughs and it breaks into a fit of hacking coughs, her face twist and Dean's pretty sure she's lost it, that calm personality she clings to even when her two best friends dive in dumpsters for food and dig through second hand store bags when they leave them out front before the store opens, not to mention he odd jobs Dean and Luis do to get new clothes and food they can't scavenge and drugs for Dean and the nights when Luis spoons up against Dean both huddled tight. "THE FUCK! You had to go and get yourself addicted, nothings easy with you is it!" She trails off, whatever anger that propelled her for a few seconds deserting her, no one speaks after that.
It's just a long day of splitting the last of his drugs so he can make it through the night and between each dose screaming in pain and vomiting unrelentingly till his throat burns like fire and his eyes water profusely. He shifts to look at Luis sleeping against an empty dumpster. There's a blanket Jo threw over him before heading home to her mother, Ellen loved the boys but not enough to welcome them into an apartment just big enough for her, Jo and Jo's brother Ash.
He slunk forward quietly and hoisted himself over the edge of the dumpster, he landed with a quiet oomph and slid over to the plastic bag, he managed to wash off with a towel in a corner and comb his fingers through his hair.
He slipped into a bar through the bathroom window and entered the room wearing torn skinny jeans and an oversized black tee, his high-tops scruff the floor and he knows from now on he's pouring on the charm or leaving penniless without enough money for a fix. Cocaine isn't cheap, he should have gotten hooked on something like sleep pills or cough medicine, but no, Dean Johnson never did anything halfway.
Men watch him with leers and dirty gestures muttering about cocksucking lips and cockteases and other stuff Dean doesn't want to hear but listens to anyways, he hopes he never has to do this again. He'll get a job, loosen up on how much he uses and such. Anything, 'long as he never has to step foot here again.
He's almost happy when someone approaches him through, his skin feels to small and sweat rolls stead down him while his need roars through his veins. The guy has sandy blond hair cut short and blue eyes that look at Dean with what Dean thinks is distaste but still, he can see the outline of the man's cock and the lust in his eyes and though Dean suddenly feels like puking again he smiles. The man stands in front of him looking him up and down considering. Finally Dean stands to follow him to the bathroom where he stands nervously against the sinks while the guy struggles with his pants. Everything starts to come in flashes after that.
He's thrown against the sink and bent over the hard white sink. The guy reaches over and clicks the lock shut. His fingers drag at his pants until they have a good hold and rip them down and spread his cheeks so air brushes against where airs never brushed before. He bites his lips and the feel of a finger pushing against his entrance and his mind tries to dreg up what little he knows about sex, never having had the chance to ever use the internet or have magazines or that sort of stuff. He's pretty sure the guy's suppose to have lube on his fingers.
He figures out why when the finger shoves past virgin muscle and the burns flashes up his spine has him whining and fighting the intrusion instinctually. He grits his teeth against a pained moan that shifts into something of pleasure when the intruding digit brushes something inside him that sends sparks of electricity up his spine and through his body and jump starts his ice cold heart. Another finger is still painful but nothing compared to the agony when the man shoves his dick into Dean's virginal barely prepared hole, the fifteen year old keens in a mix of pain and humiliation. And waits it out until come mixes with the blood that slicked his passage and only relaxes when money is slapped down onto the counter next to him and the door swings closed to his left.
Thankfully an hour later he's getting what he need and feeling his pupils expand to the size of pennies and his thoughts and senses sharpen but become irrelevant while Alistair watches with a nasty grin and Dean thinks the junior knows what Dean did for the drugs and does it matter? It feels so good, so goddamn good as he sinks into the high his last thoughts are for Jo and Luis and how they're going to know what he did, through Alastair everyone will know and He'll be the school WHORE.
But really, he doesn't care anymore cause the rain's pattering down around him, Alastair's disappeared and it's so goddamn beautiful, not cold at all like rain should be and he thinks as his body convulses with cold as the high wears off that it is cold. Like ice (So cold, like the inside so DEAD, WHORE).
I'm redoing a few chapters and reposting them now. The next chapter could be upa s soon as today or tomorrow!