Homecoming (Sam/Dean), NC17, Part 1 of 3

[runedgirl]

Title: Homecoming
Author: runedgirl
Artist: blindswandive
Genre: Wincest
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 29,150

Summary:  John Winchester likes to say that his son Sam is the epitome of an Alpha, a chip off the old block. Together they hunt the monsters that killed Sam’s mother and older brother, leaving Sam with only fragmented memories of his lost family. John has taught Sam to mistrust Omegas, who are relegated to the lowest rung of society, stigmatized and marginalized as lacking in both strength and intelligence. That doesn’t stop Sam from falling for a sex worker named Dean, a man as strong and smart as Sam who he’s surprised to find is an Omega – but that’s not the only thing Dean is hiding. There’s a much bigger surprise in store for Sam and the beautiful stranger.

A/N: Thanks to my talented collaborator, blindswandive and her beautiful art, and to Gail for the speedy beta. And thanks as always to the mods for the great time that is spn_j2_bigbang!

Link to art: Art Post




Sam Winchester was the epitome of an Alpha. That’s what his dad liked to say, and maybe Sam puffed his chest out a little when he overheard John bragging about him to another hunter. At nearly fifty, John was still every bit the swaggering Alpha male himself. He had always been handsome, and his salt and pepper beard only brought out the deep brown of those eyes that could be warm as liquid chocolate when John Winchester was trying to woo you – and cold enough to freeze you to the spot when he was trying to eradicate you.

It had been just the two of them for most of Sam’s life, and he couldn’t remember a time when his dad was not only the best hunter in that section of the country but also the leader of their little pack. Sam grew up with bruises from the constant training, but John’s relentless insistence on Sam being the second best hunter in the area had paid off – not that Sam was always happy about that. When he was younger, he sometimes dreamt of running away, away from the life, away from Dad and his 5 am running drills and the hand to hand combat training that left Sam with black eyes that kept him out of school.

Sam loved school. John let him go – even let him graduate – because there were benefits to that. But Sam couldn’t remember a time when his father had tacked a paper with an ‘A’ on it up on the refrigerator or patted him on the back for an art project. The only pats on the back Sam got were when he split a target clean down the middle with one bullet or threw a knife that exactly sliced the orange balanced on a post in two. By the time he was twenty, Sam had stopped thinking about running away. The world was full of dangers, supernatural and otherwise, and it was the Winchesters’ job to stop them. If Sam had once thought about saving the world another way, with college dorms and law books and court rooms and using his brains, those days were gone.

On a sunny August Saturday, Sam got up early for his morning run before the temperature rose above 80. He liked running; it cleared his head as well as kept his body in peak condition. Sometimes his mind wandered as he ran, to things he didn’t usually allow himself to dwell on. That morning, there were wild bluebells growing along the side of the road, popping up at the outskirts of the well-manicured yards too fast for the homeowners to mow them down. Sam had a sudden flash of himself as a small child, stopping to pick bluebells in a field.

“Mom will like these,” the older boy with him said, and helped Sam gather them into a makeshift bouquet. Sam kept dropping them, the slippery stems all different lengths, but the other boy just laughed and picked them up, guiding Sam gently as they made their way up the hill and back home.

Sam’s pace slowed and he almost stumbled, the memory visceral and intense. He could smell the fresh scent of grass and flowers, feel the warmth of the other boy’s hand in his own as they climbed the hill with their treasures.

Dad didn’t like to talk about him – the other boy -- so Sam didn’t. Sam was barely five when his brother disappeared and their pack became only two. He was not even three when their pack went from four to three, shortly after that day they picked bluebells for Mom. The fire didn’t even leave enough of her for a viewing, and there wasn’t enough of Dad left to be much of a parent after that.  Once Mom was gone, it was his brother who tucked Sam in at night. Sam didn’t remember much of that time. Middle of the night memories of being yanked out of bed and piled into the car, racing to the newest clue, to kill the thing that Dad was certain had taken their Mom. Sam slept in the backseat for a good part of his early childhood, curled up against his brother.

When his brother was gone, Sam slept with one of the other boy’s ratty sweatshirts. He'd stolen it from the basket Dad was leaving behind as they took off once again, hiding it under the seat of the car when they stopped so Dad wouldn’t take it away from him. It smelled like his big brother for a long time, but eventually it was just a threadbare rag. One day Dad found it and used it for an oil change, and the last thing Sam had of his brother was gone.

He didn’t think about his mother or his brother much after that; what was the use? He knew that at one time he had loved them both, and that losing them had devastated him in a way that he could never admit to his Dad. Sometimes he dreamt of his brother and woke up smiling, phantom sense of warm limbs entangled and the soft brush of lips on his forehead to put him to sleep. More often it was a nightmare, something big and dark bursting into their room in the middle of the night and his brother screaming ‘No I don’t want to go’ and calling his name, and Dad yelling and doors slamming. Sam ran to the window that night, watched the truck drive away. In the morning Dad was drunk and no one was there to play peacemaker and Sam ended up hiding under the covers from the sound of breaking glasses and fists smashed into the walls.

Sam asked for his brother every day until finally John screamed that he was dead and forbade Sam to ever say his name again.

Sam didn’t talk at all for a while after that.

Later he understood a little more about what had happened that night. The truck was only in his dreams, Dad said; the one thing Dad did tell Sam was that the monsters who killed their mother had also gotten his brother. They may have looked like men, but they were monsters. That was motivation enough for Sam to follow in his father’s footsteps without question once he was old enough. If that was age seven, well, that was between him and his Dad.

Sam found himself back at the motel where they were staying without any clear memory of how he’d gotten there. He shook his head and went inside, started a pot of coffee and cracked some eggs into a frying pan on the hot plate balanced on top of the microwave. He could hear Dad stirring and the shower start.

“You stink,” John said when he came out of the bathroom.

Sam shrugged. “It’s hot out.”

“Good run?”

It was as much conversation as they usually had. John dished up some eggs and poured himself a cup of black coffee.

Sam nodded.

“I’m goin’ into town, need to pick up some supplies. Might not be back til morning.”

That was code for I’m horny and there are plentiful sex workers in this town, so Sam just nodded again. Two alpha males living together could be like a pressure cooker sometimes. Alphas usually left the pack when they reached adulthood to form their own families, but the Winchesters were a lethal team so they stayed together and made it work. Neither had the time or the interest to have an actual relationship, but it was easy enough to find willing partners, paid or otherwise. Most were beta males and females – there were more betas in the world than alphas or omegas anyway, and many were sterile so that made them excellent sex workers. The accepted lore was that alphas were oversexed and needed to be satisfied regularly or they’d become violent – though Sam privately thought that was lore created by self centered spoiled alphas who just wanted to have their way.

He knew from his studies of history in high school that things hadn’t always been this way. There had always been alphas, and they had always been the strongest, tending to be pack leaders. Betas had been more or less their equals, though that was less true now. Somehow the alphas had managed to create an informal system hierarchy that put them squarely at the top of the heap, and most alphas did not hesitate to take advantage of that position. They looked down on betas as weaker and less intelligent – and less likely to reproduce. Alphas never let anyone forget that they were the potent ones.

Sam didn’t really like most alphas.

Then there were the omegas. Not as rare as alphas, but fewer in number than the betas, the omegas had ended up at the bottom of the hierarchy – probably because they were the ones who could reproduce, but also the ones who had to carry the offspring. Somehow the ingrained misogyny of humanity’s earliest days had associated childbearing with being lesser in every way. There were both male and female omegas, but all could bear children, so all were looked down upon. Especially by alphas.

Sam thought it was ridiculous, because alphas usually needed omegas to reproduce, after all. Unfortunately they had the strength and power to take what they wanted when they did want to have children, so no respect was needed for the omegas they partnered with. Omegas were physically the weakest of the three, and if you believed alpha-generated lore, also emotionally fragile and the least intelligent.

Sam mostly didn’t believe alpha-generated lore.

That night John came back from the city stinking of omega. Sam was still awake, his memories from earlier that day keeping him unsettled.  The scent was so strong when his father walked in the door that Sam had to grab a cold beer to clear his head. He got an instant erection, which he pressed the cold glass bottle against surreptitiously.

“Jesus Dad, could you take a shower?”

John chuckled darkly.

“Sorry. There was a girl at this place, just so stupid pretty, those big blue eyes all innocent like – the smell of her, Christ! Too dumb to take her suppressants on the regular maybe, I dunno, but fuck...”

Sam realized that John was plastered at the same time he realized that the cold bottle wasn’t doing a damn thing to get rid of the tent in his pants.

“I don’t really need to hear about this,” he said irritably. It didn’t seem like a good idea to ask if John had used a condom, but his father’s inebriated state made Sam wonder.

John snorted, scrubbed his hand through his beard. “Fuckin’ omegas, good for nothin’ except that. You remember that, Sam. You don’t mess with them. You hear me?”

Sam wanted to point out that John was being an A plus hypocrite, but he didn’t want to prolong the conversation any longer than necessary. He shook his head and left his father to keep drinking alone, turning off the light and flopping onto the bed near the window. He waited until he heard the shower start up before shoving his hand down his pants. Dad would smell it when he came out, but Sam intended to be asleep by then.

He dreamt of his mother, her yellow hair and pale smooth skin, the omega scent of her part of Sam’s earliest memories. There was always kindness in her blue blue eyes.

*             *             *

Five nights later, Sam pulled the Impala into the same motel parking lot, Dad stretched out on the back seat. Every bump in the road had brought a muffled groan from John, but every time Sam stepped on the brakes to try to even it out John cursed him from the back seat and told him to drive faster. Gravel sprayed from the tires as Sam screeched into a spot and threw her into park, and John yelled even louder.

“Goddammit it Sam, you keep throwing me around like that I’ll throw you right down on this asphalt and teach you who’s boss!”

Sam felt his mouth curl into a snarl, barely able to keep himself from growling at John. All his alpha instincts were screaming at him to beat the shit out of the other alpha who was threatening him.

He yanked the door open and forced himself to hold out a hand to John instead. There was a tussle, as expected, John trying to bat him away, but finally Sam got a grip on his arm and pulled him out. He cursed the whole time Sam half supported him and half fought him off, got the key in the door, and let John half sit half fall onto the bed.

It took a hot shower and twenty minutes before Sam was calm enough to get out the med kit and stitch his father up. John wasn’t stupid enough to move while Sam worked, but he was practically vibrating with the adrenaline from the wound and the fighting. It was a nasty shapeshifter, and quick. It was also now quite dead.

Sam put the kit away and filled a glass of water. He put it on the nightstand, along with some heavy-duty painkillers.

Then he put on his boots and left without a word. It was better that way; he didn’t trust himself not to tell John to go to hell.

Sam had been pissed since that night the week before when John came back from a night on the town and gave Sam an unwanted lecture on what useless sluts omegas were. Maybe it was because he knew his mother was an omega, something that John seemed to conveniently forget. Maybe it was because Sam didn’t think anyone deserved to be treated like shit, especially if you had to service a sonofabitch like John Winchester, whether or not it was for money.

John Winchester hated omegas.

Clearly that hadn’t always been the case, because he had married one. But either Mary was the exception, or John’s opinions had changed drastically since her death. Sam had never heard his father say a kind word about omegas, only derogatory comments and insults. He wasn’t much different than most other alphas in his derision for omegas, but it annoyed Sam anyway.

“Omegas are people, you know,” Sam said one day after John had rolled his eyes when Sam was polite to an attractive young omega man behind the counter at the grocery store.

“Unless you’re thinkin’ about fucking him, don’t bother bein’ so nice,” John scoffed as they left. “That’s all they’re good for.”

“Jesus Christ, Dad, could you wait until we’re out of the store at least?”

John smiled, but his eyes were cold. “Aww, you worried about hurting that boy’s feelings? That’s sweet, Sam.”

There was no discussing it with John; Sam mostly gave up. And then his dad comes back smelling like he’s been rolling in omega scent, hypocrite that he was. Sam felt bad for that woman, having to sleep with an alpha who probably hated her.

He drove into town without planning to, past the bar that doubled as a place to rent an hour with a willing beta – or one of the few omegas who worked there. It was rare to find an omega doing sex work, though they were the most sought after partners by far, since they had to be careful not to get pregnant. The omegas who did took suppressants so that didn’t happen, and so that their biological imperatives didn’t make them so eager to have sex that they put themselves in danger. Still, Sam was fairly certain that the omega that John slept with wasn’t on anything – her scent was that overwhelming.

Sam had been with a few omegas, but never ones who weren’t taking their meds. Mostly he preferred betas, not wanting to take a chance on an unwanted procreation. And though he would never admit it, Sam had also fantasized about what it would like to be with another alpha. That was a forbidden fantasy, and a terrible idea in real life, but sometimes it was the thing that pushed Sam over the edge when he had his dick in his hand, the thought of a man equally strong holding him down, making him come.

There was no way he’d find that at the bar – or anywhere – but there were plenty of other options. Sam was curious now, and pissed at John even if he knew it was probably irrational. There was a part of him that wanted to best his father – his alpha – in every way. And weird or not, that included bedding the woman that John had undoubtedly treated badly. Sam would do it right.

He had parked the old pickup truck that was his to drive before he realized it. The bouncer at the door took one look at him and smiled, waving him inside. “Evening, alpha,” he said with a knowing smirk.

So it was that kind of place. Sam thought about turning around and leaving, but then he caught the scent that riveted him in place.

Omega. It was sweet and strong and Sam felt his cock swell in his jeans in response. It had been a long time since anyone’s hand but his own had been on his dick. Too long.

Sam forced himself to settle, took a seat at the bar.

“What can I get you, alpha?”

It was contrived and ridiculous, referring to customers by their designation, but in his current state of arousal it only made Sam hornier.  He ordered a scotch and soda and watched the beta bartender’s shapely ass as she walked away to go make it.

“So what’s the deal with this place?” he asked when she returned.

She didn’t pretend not to know what he was asking.

“Most of us are betas, but we also have some more….specialized….workers. Omega au natural, you might say. A lot of you alphas are fascinated with being able to take a spin the way nature intended, if you know what I mean.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. His cock twitched in his pants.

“And don’t worry, we’ve got those fancy condoms that even your big alpha knot won’t bust,” she said with a wink.

Sam thought about all the reasons this was probably a bad idea. He gulped his drink and his erection throbbed painfully and he knew it wasn’t going to matter. All his instincts were screaming at him to fuck and fuck hard and fuck now.

The air swirled a bit and Sam turned to see a young omega woman with beautiful blue eyes take a seat next to him.

“Smelled you, alpha,” she said sweetly, and brushed her hand over his knee. It was barely a touch, but it went straight to Sam’s cock.

“You too,” he said, keeping himself still with effort.

“Haven’t seen an alpha like you in a long time,” she continued, and Sam thought about how she sounded like she was purring. “You must be, what? Six four? Five? And so strong, I can tell.”

Sam nodded, not trusting his voice to be anything other than a growl.

“You can do anything you want to me,” she went on, and Sam noticed for the first time that her eyes were unfocused. She swayed unsteadily on her feet and he reached out to steady her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but Sam’s thinking had cleared a bit and he could tell her voice was slurred. “Show ya how fine, come on, big guy.”

Despite the physical impact of her presence on his body, Sam was reluctant. He turned to the bartender.

“What’s wrong with her?”

She shrugged. “They drug them sometimes, the managers. Otherwise they might not want to….to work as hard as they do. Or to stay off the suppressants.”

Sam’s stomach sunk. He patted the woman on the arm awkwardly, and left her with a hurried “Sorry, gotta go, have a nice night.”

Getting up off the bar stool and walking out of the bar was one of the hardest things Sam had ever had to do, but he was queasy with what he’d seen. Fuck John Winchester for not doing the right thing, blaming the woman for not taking suppressants like she had a fucking choice. It was disgusting.

Sam turned to head down the sidewalk to where the truck was parked, shaking his head with disgust, and almost bumped into a man walking briskly the other way.

“Shit, sorry.”

The man had thrown out a hand to keep from falling, bumping against Sam’s chest. Ordinarily, Sam’s alpha instincts would tell him to push back, especially with another male almost as tall and strong as he was doing the touching, clearly another alpha. Instead, Sam lurched forward, almost knocking the man down again.

“Oops,” the man said, and then he unexpectedly started to laugh.

Sam gaped at him.

“Sorry, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting,” the guy said. His eyes were glittering, amused. “From a big strong alpha like you,” he added. The corners of his mouth turned up and he tilted his head down, looking up at Sam through thick dark lashes.

Sam didn’t have a comeback. The way he was talking and his attitude were almost flirty, but other than that, the other man had the look of an alpha. The guy was almost as tall as Sam and Sam didn’t smell an ounce of fear on him.

“I think it might have been my fault,” Sam said finally. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

The other man cocked an eyebrow. It made him look even more attractive, which Sam was suddenly realizing was very attractive indeed. He’d been with a handful of beta men, but never another alpha; it was too dangerous. Even when attraction was involved, alphas were as likely to start fighting as fucking. At least that’s what the lore said.

“Maybe your hard on was leading the way,” the other man said, casting a pointed look at Sam’s tented jeans. He’d been all keyed up from the encounter with the omega woman in the bar, and somehow his dick still hadn’t gotten the message to calm down. In fact, Sam’s cock throbbed harder at being acknowledged – and admired.

“Probably,” Sam admitted, and found himself smiling back.

“Fifty for a blow job,” the guy said, and Sam nearly stumbled from the visual that popped into his head of his dick between those plush full lips. “A hundred if you wanna fuck.”

He hadn’t even realized that the man was a sex worker. It was unheard of for an alpha to be in that line of work, so Sam must have been wrong about that. Beta, then. Tall and strong and confident for a beta. And fucking beautiful. Maybe this was Sam’s lucky night after all. He tended towards preferring women in his bed, but some of his most memorable nights had been spent with beta males, and Sam had a feeling this encounter could join those ranks – or maybe even exceed them.

“Yeah?” the guy said, like he already knew he had Sam hooked.

“You don’t mind being with an alpha?” Sam asked, because consent was important and beta males weren’t exactly built like omegas.

“You mean I don’t mind being fucked by an alpha?”

Sam nodded, following the line of the other man’s sight to land on his crotch again.

“Gotta admit, that looks impressive. But I know what I’m doing.”

The young man looked up and met Sam’s eyes, then the tip of his tongue snaked out and licked over those plush lips and Sam didn’t care about anything other than getting his dick out of his pants and his hands on the other boy.

“I believe you. Where can we…”

That was as much as Sam got out before his hand was clasped and he was tugged along the sidewalk toward the pay-by-the-hour hotel that clearly did most of its business thanks to the bar and the solicitations up and down the street.

Just the warmth of the man’s hand in his own sent ripples of desire through Sam’s body, like that simple touch had set off some kind of uncontrollable chemical reaction. He was so horny he felt like he was about to explode with it, all his instincts kicked into overdrive and telling him to get this beautiful boy under him, get inside him.

He let go of the other man’s hand to pull out his wallet and it was an almost physical hurt to relinquish that contact. The boy seemed to feel it too, reaching out to brush his fingers across Sam’s shoulder and then breathing out roughly, like he too was trying to calm down.

That part must be Sam’s imagination, because betas, male or female, were spared from this purely biological bullshit that alphas and omegas had to endure. Sam hated that part of being an alpha, the loss of control that came with being in rut when a fertile omega was nearby. As a hunter, self-control was crucial to both killing the monsters and staying alive, and Sam didn’t want to lose that control just to have a good fuck. He’d avoided sex with omegas most of his life for that reason, and he already regretted that he’d nearly broken that rule earlier in the evening. Look where it had gotten him – about to lose control with some beta stranger who looked like he could probably put up a decent fight if their sex turned to violence the way it sometimes did when the alpha instincts won out. That’s the last thing Sam wanted. He thought about changing his mind, and then the other man looked at him over his shoulder and his eyes went dark and half lidded and Sam’s higher brain functions sort of shorted out.

“Come on,” the guy urged, and his voice was as dark and smoky as his eyes, and Sam followed him without another moment of hesitation.

The door to Room 12 slammed behind them and Sam gave up all pretense of not wanting this. He grappled the boy’s shirts up over his head, revealing the rest of an intricate vine tattoo inked around his bicep. Sam ran his fingers over it appreciatively, then pushed eagerly at the man’s pants while he struggled to get his zipper down and shimmy out of them, kicking his boots off and across the room. He was commando beneath his jeans so just like that he was naked, and once again Sam took a second to sniff the air and be sure he wasn’t about to try to fuck another alpha -- because the guy was built, thin and lithe but muscular, his strength evident. Flat belly and sturdy thighs tapered to muscular calves, a faded red heart with a scripted ‘S’ in it split down the middle inked on one ankle. His skin was pale and freckled all over and Sam suddenly had to touch. He still had all his clothes on, and the feel of the boy’s bare skin under his calloused fingers was like silk, so much softer than his muscularity suggested.

The boy drew in a gasping breath as Sam touched him, his pink nipples pebbled up and so enticing that Sam bent his head immediately and licked over one.

It was like he had touched the other man with a live wire.

“Fuck!” the boy said, hands reflexively coming up to cradle Sam’s head from behind and press him in tighter.

Sam felt the hard nub stiffen even more under his tongue, and knew instinctively that he should suck harder. His hands pulled the boy in, one behind his back and the other wrapped around one silky smooth rounded butt cheek, manhandling the other man into position so he could suckle harder.

“Ohgod ohgod,” the boy kept groaning, his hips rocking and his cock getting hard, and things were spinning out of control so fast that Sam couldn’t track what they were doing or figure out why they were doing it. There were hands at his belt, slipping the buckle, unzipping his jeans, and then Sam was groaning too, all around that sweet little nipple in his mouth, because skilled fingers were stroking up and down his rock hard dick and he was keening, the pleasure coming at him in waves. He could feel it in his stomach, in his thighs, all his muscles seizing up as he tried to thrust forward. It knocked both of them over and they fell in a heap on the bed, Sam scrambling to get on top and pin the boy down.

The small remaining rational part of Sam told him there was no way they could fuck without him injuring the beta and no way he could stay calm enough to prep him like he’d need to. He needed to come and he needed it yesterday, all patience gone. He felt like he was burning up with it, like he’d literally explode if he didn’t climax soon.

The other man was squirming under him, looking as lost to this as Sam was – either that or he was the most amazing actor Sam had ever encountered.

“Here, just…” Sam grabbed the man’s hand and wrapped it back around his cock, sliding their fists up and down his shaft until he felt like his eyes were about to roll back in his head.

Sam knew he was right about the other man’s strength when he was suddenly flipped over onto his back, the boy bending over him. Before Sam could protest something that went so against his alpha instincts, that mouth that Sam had been admiring since the first moment they met wrapped around the swollen head of Sam’s cock and went to town on him. If Sam had been sucking the boy’s nipples with enthusiasm, it was nothing compared to the way the other man took him as deep as he could and then pulled off with a slurp, only to slide back down again.

Sam had popped a knot, and the boy wrapped both fists around the base to stimulate him there too, sucking on the rest of him as hard as he could. Sam’s whole body was on fire now, pleasure overwhelming him in the best of ways. He got one hand on the back of the other man’s head, combing through the soft spiky hair, and then his whole body seized with one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced. Usually with a beta, he didn’t pop a full knot and so it was a more run-of-the-mill climax, but this one went on and on, like his body was convinced he was knotted up with a mate and needed to keep pumping and pumping to fill him up.

The other man kept his hands wrapped around Sam’s dick, slowly stroking and massaging him, bending down to lap it up when more fluid leaked from the tip, and each time Sam moaned helplessly. Good. It was so fucking good. He never wanted it to end, just wanted to float in this sea of pleasure forever.

It wasn’t until the surges of pleasure had finally subsided that Sam realized he had been the antithesis of a gentleman – he’d been so busy coming his brains out that he hadn’t given much thought to his partner’s pleasure, paid partner or not.

The boy pulled off and flopped to his back beside Sam, still breathing a little heavily.

“I’m so sorry, I could…” He gestured to the other man’s naked body.

The guy snorted. “That’s okay. Kinda didn’t need any help, it turns out.”

Sam took in the sticky liquid clinging to the thin trail of hair on the other man’s belly. His cock – which was pretty impressive for a beta also – was soft and spent.

Sam felt a warm blush spread over his chest. The boy had enjoyed sucking him off so much that he came without even a hand on him? Goddamn.

The beta propped himself up on one elbow and gave Sam a look.

“Guess you’re pretty proud of yourself now, huh? So hot I creamed myself just giving you a BJ.”

Sam grinned; he couldn’t help it. Sure, the guy was being paid to make him feel good, but hey, dicks don’t lie.

“I admit that doesn’t usually happen.”

Sam grinned wider. He was about to come up with a brilliant teasing comment when another wave of arousal suddenly broke over him, so strong it made his head swim.

“Mmmm” he moaned instead of the brilliant comment, and felt his cock – unbelievably – begin to stir again.

“Hey, I have another hundred,” Sam started to say, when the other man abruptly rolled away from him and got out of bed. He hurriedly scooped his jeans up off the floor and pulled them on, then his shirt.

“I gotta go,” the man said, pulling on his boots. “The money?”

The crush of disappointment that washed over Sam was unexpected.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I – sorry.”

He pulled the blanket around him to hide his returning erection and pulled five twenties out of his wallet.

The other man grabbed them and was out the door before Sam could even say goodbye.

He had the room for another hour, and Sam used it to jerk himself off. Afterwards, he lay there until his time was up, wondering what the hell had come over him.

*             *             *

John was unfortunately still up when Sam came home – and drunk.

His dad sniffed the air as Sam went to the refrigerator to grab himself a beer.

“You cattin’ around with some omega too, Sam?”

John didn’t’ sound very happy about it.

“No. Not that it’s any of your business.”

John sniffed again. “Yeah you are. Can smell it on you.”

Jesus, Sam thought, how can he smell the omega woman through all that sex I just had with…. He realized with a shock that he didn’t even know the guy’s name.

John suddenly grabbed Sam by one arm and spun him around. Sam instinctively growled, body tensing for a fight. He stopped himself just barely.

“You be careful,” John said, but he let go of Sam’s arm. “There’s a reason omegas are looked down on, you know. You can’t trust ‘em. You remember that.”

Sam didn’t try to engage John in a conversation about it. He’d tried that when he was younger, but eventually given up. John was all too happy to accept the status quo the way it was. It benefited alphas most of all, so why wouldn’t he?

There had been a few teachers in Sam’s high school who were willing to question the status quo and how they’d gotten there, and Sam had listened. While there had always been alphas and betas and omegas, many years ago the hierarchy was less pronounced. Alphas had always been the strongest physically, and over time, they had turned that physical advantage into a psychosocial one as well. The belief system that alphas were superior in every way had started, predictably, with the alphas themselves. They were the most driven, the most aggressive. The most willing to step on someone else to get to the top of the heap. Eventually they wielded economic power as well as physical power, and that meant they could control the belief systems that humans used to decide on – well, pretty much everything. Omegas could reproduce, which gave them a type of power that the alphas wanted all to themselves, and so over time there had developed a stigma around omegas in order to keep them in line. They were weak, not as competent. Worse, they were conniving, not to be trusted. That belief system was uniquely effective in promoting a kind of paranoia among alphas eager to hang onto their position of power. Subtle – and sometimes not subtle – prejudice against omegas began to develop. They were human, of course, but maybe not as human, and that meant alphas (and often betas) could treat them with less respect.

Sam had seen some awful things in his twenty years. Omegas still technically had the same rights as everyone else, but in reality there was discrimination against them that kept them powerless economically and socially. Housing, employment, divorce, medical care – all of it was skewed toward keeping alphas in control. Sam had seen omegas spit on, called names. There were communities that prided themselves on omegas who “know their place” – to Sam, some of those “families” seemed more like masters and slaves than marriage partners.

There were times Sam hated being an alpha.

He wondered what the beta boy he’d slept with thought of him. Did he just assume that because Sam was an alpha that he was an asshole?  For some reason, Sam had been rougher, more desperate, than usual.

Maybe that did make him an asshole.

*             *             *

Sam went back to the street corner where he’d run into the beta three nights later. Even a hunt that had gotten Sam thrown across a room and into a brick wall hadn’t stopped him from thinking about the boy and how incredible the sex was. He wondered if kissing was on the list of things he could pay for, because he couldn’t stop thinking about the boy’s lips.

There was no sign of him on the street corner, so Sam walked up and down the block, hoping. Ordinarily, Sam wouldn’t wait that long, but tonight the wait seemed worth it.

Finally, when it was almost midnight, Sam spotted the familiar short hair and muscular body as the guy unfolded himself from some customer’s car.
All the hair on Sam’s arms stood straight up as he saw the older man in the Prius smirk and blow the boy a kiss. Knowing that some other man had had his hands on the boy, had come on him – or in him – it brought such a rush of rage that for a second, Sam had to take a step back. He felt downright murderous and there was absolutely no reason for it. The guy was a sex worker, after all. That’s what he DID.

Sam shook his head and tried to calm himself before he (mostly) casually walked down the sidewalk to where the boy had taken up a position to once again attract attention. He had on the same simple outfit as before, a tee shirt and tight worn jeans, but he leaned against the pole of a street light, body slanted in invitation, one knee bent as he scanned the street for slowing cars.

Anger warmed Sam’s face again and he quickened his steps.

“Hey,” he said when he was close enough.

The young man turned to him and for a second looked entirely surprised.

“Oh,” he said, “Hey. Again.”

“Are you available?” It sounded kinda dumb as soon as Sam said it. “I mean, are you – Is it the same price as before?”

There was no way to make this a smooth conversation. Sam realized with some surprise that what he really wished was that they could have a conversation and have it not be a business transaction.

The guy narrowed his eyes and seemed to be considering. Sam felt a cold flush of anxiety run through him. Christ, how badly did he want this? He was literally terrified that the guy was going to turn him down.

“I brought a couple hundred,” Sam blurted out, then grimaced. Way to sound desperate, Sam.

It brought a smile to the other man’s face though, so it was worth it.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he said and his eyes were warm. Sparkling.

Sam smiled back, half embarrassed and half flushed with an unexpected relief. They stood for a second, just smiling at each other, and Sam could feel it all over, as though every inch of him had come alive and wanted to continue staring at this man forever. He was vaguely aware that he was getting hard, and this time he couldn’t blame it on being with that omega woman. It was though there was a field of static electricity between them, prickling Sam’s skin. He felt feverish with it, and they hadn’t even touched yet.

The other guy was blushing a little, pink spread across his cheeks, over the freckles that were sprinkled across his nose. He bit his lip and then the smile dropped from his face and he turned away, breaking their eye contact and adjusting himself in his jeans.

“Shit, it’s tempting, but I – I can’t. I’ve got – I already committed to another customer for tonight. I’m – I’m sorry.”

Sam moved before he was aware that he intended to, grabbing the other man’s arm as he started to move away. It was unthinkable – unbearable – that he was going off to fuck someone else when he was supposed to be with Sam.

“No!” came out of Sam’s mouth way louder than he intended, close to the distinctive alpha command voice that all alphas were capable of, and he knew his grip on the boy’s arm was too tight, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “You said – I have the money, and you said –“

The speed with which the other man moved caught Sam off guard, and so did the strength when he shook off Sam’s hold on him. His eyes flashed dangerously and he practically bared his teeth, taking a step back and shaking his head in warning.

“What I said was no,” he said, and Sam could hear his voice shaking with emotion. He had no idea what he’d done, but the thought of never being able to touch the man again was so painful that Sam tried to argue in spite of himself.

“But I don’t understand, what did I do? I can pay whatever you want, just name your price.”

The guy shook his head again, backing up so he could keep Sam in his line of sight. “I said no, and you need to listen to that, alpha or not.”

Every instinct in Sam told him to do the opposite. He could see the other sex workers on the block watching, but it was clear none of them would interfere if he decided to try to take what he wanted by force. Sam wondered how often that happened.

It was that thought that let Sam calm down enough to back off. He held out his hands and took a step away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t – I heard you. I just – I really hope you’ll change your mind. Next time. If I’ve done something, if I was too rough, just tell me. I just, I’d really like to see you again. Maybe tomorrow?”

The other man seemed to waver, then looked down. “I don’t know,” he said, and this time his voice was soft. “I don’t know.”

He turned and walked away. Sam watched him go, wanted to salivate at the curve of his ass and the way his hips moved when he walked. Everything in him wanted to follow, but he stayed still until the man turned the corner and disappeared.

*             *             *

Sam managed to stay away for another week. He threw himself into a new job that took the Winchesters to New Jersey, a wraith who’d taken up residence under the famous Atlantic City Boardwalk. It was warm enough to walk along the edge of the ocean and let the surf wash over his feet, and Sam kept thinking of the way the boy whose name he didn’t know had smiled at him, how it had warmed him inside and out.

John frowned at him when he headed out on Friday night, a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms with their hint of a new tan and tighter jeans than he usually sported an obvious giveaway to what he was after.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” John called after him, but Sam was pretty sure that’s exactly what he intended. The way he felt about the stranger was dangerous, he could feel it in his bones. Hunters don’t care, they don’t get attached – certainly not to random sex workers who make you lose control because you want them so goddamn bad.

Sam waited for almost two hours, but the boy never appeared on his usual street corner. Finally, disappointed and wanting a drink, Sam walked up to the bar. The sweet cloying scent of omega swept over him as soon as he walked in; the blue-eyed woman was on the dance floor with a dangerous looking alpha man twice her size, his big hands possessive on her swaying hips.  She wasn’t the only one either; Sam could make out at least two other omega scents, all of them only partially suppressed.

The bartender brought him two drinks before Sam suddenly caught an entirely different scent and spun around in his seat. It was different…. it was familiar. It was him. Sam was as sure of it as if he was looking the boy in the eye.

At first, he thought he was mistaken, but then he caught movement across the crowded floor and his eyes snagged on dark green ones looking back.
For a second Sam held his breath, afraid the young man would take off. He couldn’t bring himself to take a chance of that, getting up quickly and crossing the floor, holding the man’s gaze the entire time.

“Hey,” he said, careful to keep his hands to himself.

“Hey.”

“I guess maybe you’re not working?”

Sam was half hopeful that was the case and half afraid.

A half smirk curled the man’s lip up on one side. “I’m always working if there’s enough money involved.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile, hope making his heart beat faster. “There is, if you want it.”

The boy laughed outright. “You’re a confident sonofabitch, aren’t you?”

“Not when it comes to you I’m not – you turned me down last time, money or not,” Sam pointed out.

Sam was well aware that was a very not-Alpha thing to say. He wasn’t at all sure who had the power here, and a part of him was intrigued by the idea that maybe it wasn’t him.

The other man seemed equally intrigued.

“Why don’t you buy me a drink and ask me to dance, and then we can see if this time will be different.”

It was a deliberate tease, and Sam should have been furious. Instead he just grinned and asked for drink preferences. He was half convinced the boy would bolt while he was at the bar, but when he returned he was still there.

They both polished off tequila shots, and then the music changed and they drifted onto the dance floor, letting the music move their bodies to the beat. Sam was pleasantly buzzed; he watched as the boy closed his eyes and moved his hips, the motion hypnotic and purely sexual. Sam was well aware that he was already aroused – how could he not be with so much omega in the air – but this time he was determined to stay in control.  He closed his eyes eventually too, let the music take him and felt the beat echo through his body. When he opened them again green eyes locked to his.

“Can I?” Sam asked, and moved closer, his hand hovering over the other man’s hip.

Instead of answering, the boy took Sam’s hand and placed it on his waist, shuffling closer. Sam could feel the heat of his skin beneath his thin tee shirt, and as they swayed closer the familiar scent of the boy pulled Sam like a magnet. It was strange, he thought, how familiar his smell had become after only one time together. Sam supposed it was because the sex was so intense; that entire night seemed like a fever dream.

“What’s your name?” Sam whispered as their hips came together. He could feel the other man’s erection against his own, smell his arousal.

The boy tilted his head up to whisper back, his full lips brushing Sam’s ear and sending goosebumps racing down his throat. “Dean.”

Sam hummed his approval and shifted his hands to the small of the other man’s back, pulling him even closer.

“That’s a good name,” he said, lips against Dean’s throat. “I’m Sam.” He bent to plant a kiss on Dean’s cheek. His skin was smooth, totally without stubble, and Sam lingered there, drinking in the scent and appreciating the sensual feel of him. Dean was a contradiction, soft in places and hard in others. Sam’s hands slid over the curve of his ass and Dean went up on his toes, pressed his firm body against Sam’s and Sam could feel the strength there. But he was soft too, silky skin and hair and something intoxicating about the way he melted into Sam’s arms like he couldn’t get close enough.

“Sam,” he murmured, his hands on Sam’s waist. “First names only, okay?”

A reminder that this wasn’t a date, this was a business transaction. Sam was too wound up to care.

“Can we get out of here?” Sam asked when his level of arousal started to become unbearable.

Dean nodded against his shoulder, and Sam practically shuddered with relief.

They walked the two blocks to the hotel falling into step easily, hips bumping every now and then. This time when the door to the rented room closed, Sam forced himself to go slowly.

“Can I?” he asked, as he tugged at Dean’s tee shirt. “Wanna see you so bad.”

Dean nodded and reached down to help, yanking his own shirt off and then working on his jeans.

“You too,” he said, “Unless that’s a thing with you, that you like to keep your clothes on.”

An Alpha thing, Sam’s mind not helpfully filled in. Power play bullshit and all that. He unbuttoned his shirt, slowing his hands when Dean’s eyes narrowed to watch and his tongue came out to wet his lips. Sam could feel Dean’s excitement, read it in his every expression. Omega smell still clung to both of them from the bar, and Sam’s cock throbbed almost painfully as he stripped off for Dean’s viewing pleasure. That Dean wanted to look at him was the biggest turn on of all.

“Pants,” Sam said, and Dean slipped his jeans down over slim hips and kicked them off. His cock leapt up, stiff and ready and so pretty.

“You too,” Dean said again, and Sam did the same, peeling off his boxer briefs with his pants.

“Fuck,” Dean swore, eyes raking over Sam’s naked body, taking in chest and abs appreciatively and then staring at Sam’s dick where it stood rigid, already glistening at the tip.

“Can we?” Sam asked, but he was ready for a no. He knew he was big, and beta males didn’t have the lubrication that would make sex easy.

“Fuck yes,” Dean said instead, and dropped to his knees. He looked up at Sam through his thick lashes before leaning in and taking most of Sam’s cock in his mouth, sucking hard and swirling his tongue just so until Sam saw stars.

“Ohgod yeah,” Sam encouraged him, hands raking through the soft spikes of Dean’s hair. It was like some kind of heaven, but there was no way Sam was holding out very long if Dean kept it up.

“Shit, stop,” he said reluctantly, tugging to get Dean to release his throbbing dick.

Dean sat back on his heels and groaned.

“If you still wanna fuck, I need to – I brought some good lube, I think it’ll do the trick.”

To Sam’s confusion, Dean didn’t move.

“Dean? If you’ve changed your mind, that’s totally fine, I get it.”

Finally Dean looked up. “I have to tell you something,” he said.

Sam felt pretty foolish, standing there with his dick sticking straight out waiting to hear what it was. Dean stood then, and Sam felt better since his dick looked much the same.

“It doesn’t usually happen to me, I take the good stuff, and I can pass…. It’s safer for me if no one knows. But I don’t know, when I’m with you, it’s like nothing’s strong enough to keep me from reacting… It’s why I said no before, after that first time sorta freaked me out…”

Dean moved closer, brought their naked bodies together. Sam shivered as their hard cocks brushed, as their chests bumped. Dean reached down and grabbed Sam’s hand, pulled it behind him. With a last determined sigh, he slid Sam’s hand down the curve of his ass and between his cheeks. Sam’s hand came away soaking wet. The overpowering scent hit him at the same time as the realization.

“You – you’re an omega?”

Even as he spoke the words, Sam’s fingers flew back to Dean’s ass and burrowed in deeper, instinctively seeking out the slick heat inside. Dean shuddered hard when he felt it, spread his legs wider and pressed his face to Sam’s shoulder. “Ohhhhh,” he said, and Sam drove in deeper.

“I have condoms,” Dean managed, his voice trembling as much as his legs were as Sam kept working him open.

“I can’t fucking wait to get inside you,” Sam said, and it came out a growl. His fingers were in as deep as he could get them and Dean had raised one leg to wrap it around Sam’s hip, rocking back and forth on Sam’s hand, eager and wanton and everything that Sam never thought he wanted in a partner.

When Sam couldn’t wait any more, he forced himself to pull away and moved them to the bed. Dean went easily, letting Sam guide him down to hands and knees. His ass glistened, slick coating the insides of his thighs. Sam could see him breathing hard, ribs heaving as he waited, cock full and hard beneath him. Jesus, what a picture.

“Condoms in my pocket,” he panted, and Sam managed to find and open them and force one onto his straining erection. He was so aroused his knot was already slightly swollen, his fingers slipping as he pulled the condom into place. It seemed to take an eternity before he knew it would stay there, so he was beyond impatient when he finally crawled up the bed and draped himself over Dean’s back. Dean was sweating, pale skin slick and fever-hot. Sam had a moment of fear that he wouldn’t be able to get inside – it had happened before with other partners – but then Dean’s body slowly opened up for him and he slid home, inch by deliriously pleasurable inch. They both groaned, and Sam could feel Dean trembling beneath him. He ran his hands along Dean’s heaving sides, caressing the smooth skin.

“Easy, easy,” he said, and the words came to him like he had been saying them forever. “Just relax and take it, let me fill you up, ohgod gonna fill you up, wanna fill you up…”

He was mumbling nonsense, didn’t even know what he was saying, his head swimming with the scent that had now changed to something thick and almost sweet, something that made Sam blind to anything and everything that wasn’t the sight and sound and feel of Dean beneath him. He was all the way in now, and when his knot popped the pressure caused a pleasure so intense Sam nearly blacked out. His hips pumped frantically as his climax hit him, unloading heavily into the condom again and again. He bent his head and licked and nuzzled against Dean’s bare shoulders, his teeth sinking in before he could stop himself. Dean keened beneath him when he felt it, bucking and cursing and clenching around Sam’s already throbbing cock.  Sam had just enough presence of mind to reach around and grab Dean’s dick. Three or four strokes and Dean came too, the contractions milking even more out of Sam. Eventually they rolled to their sides, still locked together, both of them moaning every time Sam’s dick pulsed again inside of Dean.

It was almost an hour before Sam could pull out comfortably. He clutched the condom carefully, somewhat shocked at just how much it held. Dean turned his head sleepily and raised his eyebrows.

“Wow,” he said, making a face. “Impressive”.

“You are,” Sam answered, then blushed. What was he thinking? This was a business transaction. Still, it was the truth.

Dean snorted. “Back at ya.”

Sam climbed back on the bed, tentatively slipped an arm around Dean’s shoulders. There were bruises and bite marks there in the shape of Sam’s teeth.  “Can I stay? For a few hours. I paid for six.”

Dean yawned. “If that means I get to sleep for another four, then definitely.”

Sam wriggled closer.

“So you’re a snuggler?” Dean asked, but Sam could tell he was smiling.

“Guess so.”

Dean sighed, put upon. He was snoring in two minutes.

*             *             *

Sam woke abruptly to pounding on the door and yelling, which meant he leapt from the bed and had his gun pulled from his discarded pants in two seconds flat.

“Either pay me for more hours or get the hell outta there!” the proprietor was shouting.

“Jesuschrist, don’t shoot him,” Dean said from behind him. His voice was gruff from sleep, and sent shivers down Sam’s spine. The memory of last night came back in a rush, and Sam realized he’d woken with a pretty impressive erection – and that he must look pretty ridiculous.

“We’re goin, we’re goin,” Dean grumbled from the bed, and the proprietor gave one last punch to the wooden door and then stalked away.

When Sam turned around, Dean’s eyes lowered and he grinned.

“Not a bad view to wake up to,” he said, then winked. “Though I didn’t expect the gun.”

That made Sam’s dick even more interested in getting back into bed. Unfortunately his wallet wasn’t interested at all; in fact, it was empty. He pulled on his shorts, tucking himself in with some difficulty.

Dean pouted. The sight of his mouth doing that, combined with a bad case of bedhead which shouldn’t be attractive but was nevertheless and the fact that Dean was gorgeously naked under a half-kicked-off sheet made Sam want to go out and rob a bank.

“I’ve never wished I was rich in my life,” Sam lamented. “Until now.”

The $200 that he’d left on the nightstand when they arrived at the hotel the night before was still there. Dean eyed it, and for a second Sam thought he might get very very lucky. Then Dean slid out of bed with a sigh and grabbed his own jeans, pulling them on so quickly that Sam only got a brief glimpse of his ass. It was enough, unfortunately, to make Sam even more uncomfortable.

“Yeah, sucks to have to work for a living,” Dean said, putting on his boots and slipping his tee shirt over his head. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it back into place.

The feeling that washed over Sam as he watched Dean get ready to go back out there and solicit another customer was so strong and so unexpected that it nearly made his knees buckle. He desperately didn’t want Dean to go – and he really didn’t want Dean to go out and offer himself up to another man. The very thought of it caused an adrenaline rush that made Sam dizzy.

When he came back to awareness, Dean was staring at him, head cocked.

“Sam?”

Sam realized that he had unconsciously put himself into fighting stance. His fists were clenched so hard that there would be marks in his own palms.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to relax.

“Sorry, I – it’s hard to think about you being out there, being with someone else.”

Dean scoffed and looked away. The line of his shoulders told Sam that he’d fucked up with that comment – not that he couldn’t figure that out for himself. But the repulsion he was feeling was so strong he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Like I said, sucks to have to work for a living.”

“Couldn’t you…” Sam began, and Dean whirled on him, getting right in Sam’s face. He was a good three inches shorter, but the anger in his expression made him look downright imposing anyway.

“If you fuckin’ say couldn’t I get a job as a fucking librarian or something, I’mma punch you right in the face, alpha or not!”

For a second, Sam was frozen. His instincts were tearing him in two directions, and it left him momentarily confused. Half of him wanted to respond to Dean as though another alpha was threatening him and lash out with fists that he knew would eventually prevail. The other half wanted to grab the clenched fists that Dean was holding up and force him backwards onto the bed and mount him right there, use his strength to take what he desperately wanted to have again. The strength of that desire was suddenly terrifying, and Sam took a step back, horrified at the force of his own lust.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

Sam turned away, trying to get himself under control. It was easier when he wasn’t looking at Dean.

“No, you didn’t,” Dean agreed. He scooped the $200 off the nightstand and tucked the bills into his back pocket. And then he was gone.

*             *             *
Part Two