Chapter One: First Appointment.


Dean knocked on the door that he had been pointed to. The door was brown and old looking, and the hall was dirty and looked as if it were falling apart in places. He knocked on the door as he had been instructed to do so. He didn't follow orders usually...not anymore. Following orders were what had got him into this mess in the first place.

He looked up and down the dirty hall again before knocking a little rougher.

He still couldn't believe he was here looking for his brother. There was no way Sam was in a place like this...there was no way his –sweet, kind, caring, innocent- baby brother was in this place. He shook his head; he could hear the moans and screams coming from every other room in the hall. He knocked again...there was no way it was Sam that was in that room; Sam never ignored someone at the door.

"Who is it?" Someone shouted from inside the room.

Dean frowned; the voice was familiar to him...but no, it couldn't be Sam's. "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester. We err, have an appointment."

"Oh yeah, hi Dean...I, err, well, do you think we could re-schedule? It's just that I'm kind of tied up at the moment." The voice said quietly.

Dean noticed the voice sounded sort of strained. "Hey, are you okay in there?"

It took a short while before the voice answered. "Yeah. I just, I'm really sorry...but if you tell the security guard downstairs I need him to come up here, we can sort something out about the price for your next appointment."

Dean frowned and opened the door as he spoke, "Are you sure you're okay-?" He froze half-way through the door. The room was dimly lit, but he could see the boy on the bed perfectly; he couldn't be more than seventeen years old –the same as Sam-, he had a beautiful face, longish brown hair, his body was long and leanly built, his skin tone was slightly darker than his own. The teen's long arms were above his head and handcuffed to a metal railing on the wall and his legs were stretched as wide as they could go, tied with some sort of pink soft material to the wooden bed posts. As Dean's eyes ran back up the teen's legs, they fell on the boy's long thick cock...the boy was big for his age, but Dean knew he was bigger.

"Y-you shouldn't be in here. I told you we could re-schedule." The teen told him.

Dean's eyes snapped up to the boy's face; he had a fierce expression plastered on his face...but his eyes showed how nervous and scared he was of having Dean there while he was obviously incapable of defending himself if the need arouse. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt yo-you're bleeding!" Dean said worriedly as his eyes landed on the teen's cuffed wrists.

He rushed over to the bed –aware of the teen's worried gaze following his every move. He placed one knee on the bed to stable himself as he gently yanked the cuffs open and then took hold of the boy's wrists in his hands, looking over them. "What happened?" He asked gently, his worry still clear in his voice.

The boy looked at him, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and wonder. He pulled his wrists free of Dean's grip and looked down at them. The way Dean had said it, made him think his wrist were covered in blood...but the skin had just broken and leaked blood in certain parts, nothing to worry about. He untied his feet and looked back up at Dean. "T-thanks. I'm Richie."

Dean nodded. "I know." Richie cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner and Dean smiled –a smile that only lifted one side of his mouth. "I asked for you, remember?"

"O-oh yeah." Richie smiled lightly.

"So, what happened?" Dean asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, not taking his eyes off of Richie once.

Richie watched Dean closely...and after deciding he didn't think the older man was going to try anything he was okay with telling him what had happened. "The guy that was here before you decided I 'looked too fuckable tied up' to be untied. So, the asshole left me like that...he still paid so..." He shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn't really care.

That angered Dean, so. Fucking. Much. But he knew he couldn't say anything, not yet anyway. His gaze returned to the teen's face –away from where they had unintentionally landed; the boy's cock- as he spoke.

"So, what's your deal?" Richie asked with a suspicious look on his face.

Dean frowned confusedly. "What do ya mean?"

Richie tipped his head to the side again, his suspicious look still in place but it was mixed with a hint of amusement. "You walk into the room with the guy you're here to pay for sex with; he's tied up, completely unable to go get help..." He sighed. "It's just most guys would have...you know, well, taken advantage of that and left, that way they wouldn't have to pay."

"I'm not most guys." Dean half smirked.

Richie smiled back. "Well, you look like that kind of guy." He bit his bottom lip as his mouth started to twitch as he wanted to laugh. The man sitting in front of him did look like that kind of guy, but he was only joking...he liked this guy, Dean.

"Hey!" Dean said mock angrily. He half smirked again as he watched Richie smile. "I don't really look like that kind of guy, do I?" He asked seriously.

Richie smiled softly. "Kind of." He looked away, his gaze flickering to the clock on the wall. "Erm, we've kind of wasted some of your time..." He looked back to Dean, pointing to the clock. "Bu-t...seen as you untied me without doing anything-!"

"I told you, I'm not like that!" Dean said, he wasn't shouting but he made sure his words were strong enough for Richie to know he was telling the truth.

Richie smiled softly. "Yeah, I'm getting that." His smile turned from soft into something akin to mischievousness. "Like I was saying, some time is up...so-o, seen as you saved me; I can give you extra time a-n-d you don't have to pay...even if you want to do something I charge extra for."

Dean's expression saddened.

"Uh, W-what's wrong?" Richie asked and shifted closer to Dean, placing his hands on the older man's legs.

Dean smiled sadly at the teen as he stood up –Richie following his every move again. "Nothing."

"So, are you wantin' to top or bottom?" Richie asked sitting on his knees and looking up at Dean with a hopeful look in his eyes; he was hoping Dean would choose the one he wanted him to.

Dean looked over the boy's body again, making sure to not let his eyes linger on the boy's –hardening- exposed cock. "Actually...do you think I could come back another day?"

"Y-yeah, of course." He said nodding, his eyes showing his disappointment.

Dean smiled quickly. "Thanks. I'll call again."

"Oh, hold on." Richie said and scrambled to the other side of the bed. Dean lifted his head slightly so he could see what Richie was looking for...apart from the numerous sex toys and bottles of lube, he could see a pad and pen in the draw. Richie scribbled something on the pad and then ripped the paper off and passed it over to Dean.

Dean looked at the numbers on the paper and then gave Richie a confused look. "What-?"

"My cell number. That way you can make an appointment through me instead of having to speak to someone else first. The call will come straight to me so you can talk to me." Richie smiled embarrassedly as he realised he had said the same thing twice just in a different way.

Dean smiled and reached his hand out to ruffle Richie's hair, but realised what he was doing and quickly pulled his arm back before he made any sort of contact with the teen. "See ya." He left before the kid could say anything...and before he jumped him. He made his way quickly out of the building and over to the Impala. As soon as his bum hit the front seat he had his phone out and pressed against his ear.

"'Ello?"

"Bobby, it's me."

"Dean? Boy, you haven't called in a while...I know you've probably got your hopes up, but we haven't found him yet." Bobby said softly...and carefully down the phone.

Dean let his head fall back against the seat, a smile playing at his lips. He couldn't help it; even though he was in that place...he was alive. "I know Bobby..." He paused; his smile widening. "I found him."


End of chapter 1!

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