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chase_acow
That was one sweet little (really long) kink meme. I wrote a couple of different things, and I might post another that I did tomorrow, but no power on this earth will make me admit to the third. If you don't know I wrote it, I'm not telling you.
Prompt: Sam in a gangbang, Dean directs
Words: 2,750
It was the third week of class, things were finally settling down and Sam's first paper was due in a little under two weeks. He already had his notes typed out, and coded with different colored highlighters. His roommate had laughed at him for five minutes straight, but Sam needed to keep his four point. He was going to show Dad and Dean that he could live on his own. A safe life.
His desperate attempt to fit in and be normal was probably why he didn't catch Dean until Thursday. All week, he had felt an itching between his shoulder blades that he associated with being watched. Sam was cutting through the lawn between two buildings when he heard a familiar laugh echoing off the walls.
Class started in just under twenty minutes and Sam hated being too late to get one of the seats in the first row, but he couldn't help investigating. There was a handful of rich and preppy guys and one girl lounging on the stone benches memorializing the class of '38. The RA had warned all the incoming freshmen away from the Omega house, and Sam could see than all the guys were wearing their letters.
Sam recognized the broad back and leather jacket of the man facing away from him. He cut the distance between them in half before he felt his blunt fingernails cutting into the fleshy parts of his palm. "What the hell, dude?" Sam asked, rounding the bench and glaring down at his brother.
Cocking his head up, Dean lifted both eyebrows in surprise, in artificial surprise if Sam knew Dean at all. He shifted back on his hands, spread his thighs and lifted his hips like he knew every set of eyes were tracking his movement. He smirked, "Do I know you?"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam demanded, his anger not quiet enough that he wasn't shifting nervously as the other people Dean was with stood to surround him. They might not have been taller than Sam, but they were broader, muscles thicker than Sam's skinny frame. "Seriously?"
"You must have me confused with someone, kid," Dean said, standing gracefully and exchanging a glance with the others. When Dean moved, his jacket opened enough for Sam to see he was wearing the same Greek letters across his chest. Sam squinted, it had to be some kind of con.
The single girl reached up and pulled a blowpop from between her full red lips. She licked out with her tongue and wrapped her other hand around the waist of the guy closest to her. "Freshmen," she snorted, and looked Sam up and down, "It's too bad they'll let anyone on campus these days."
The group laughed together and Sam blushed hotly. He shoved his hands into the torn hoodie pocket and hunched his shoulders. Dean's laugh was high and cold, a sound Sam had never heard before. Dean jerked his head and the group left together, a mean pack that the other students avoided on reflex. Just before they turned the last corner, Dean turned and looked back at Sam.
Sam locked eyes with Dean and Dean smiled the same expression that Sam had seen every day of his life before he'd left for Stanford.
He tried to put it out of his mind. Whatever game or scam Dean was pulling had nothing to do with him. Maybe it was even a hunt, and that meant Sam wanted even less to do with it. Still, he couldn't help wishing that Dean had just showed up at his dorm and took him out for lunch like a normal person.
A woman's scream cut the silence of an otherwise boring Friday night. Sam dropped the sad, single bag of groceries he could afford and automatically sprinted down the nearest alley. He sucked air into his lungs and his feet pounded the pavement hard enough to send vibration all the way up his legs.
"No! No, please, it hurts!"
Sam put on an extra burst of speed only to skid to a stop when he turned the corner into a dead end. The lighting was bad, but the only person Sam could see was same girl from before, the mean one with Dean. She leaned against the dumpster, alone and obviously unharmed. Her lips twisted into a sadistic smile as she cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Wha-" Sam didn't even get a whole word out before he heard movement behind him.
The blow came suddenly and viciously, with perfect precision to take him down instantly.
Sam woke up in slow, aching degrees. First, he registered that he was on his back, rubbing against something rough. Second, he figured from the cold that he was completely naked. Then, from the pain and hard hands holding his legs open, he realized that he was being fucked. Hard.
"Looks like he's finally waking up."
His mind was still fuzzy, his limbs so heavy that all he could do was barely lift one limp hand before it fell back to the table. Helpless, Sam blinked hard, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, practicing the methods of waking his mind up that Dad had drilled into his head. Panicking wouldn't get him free, only hurt – or dead.
Bit by bit his vision cleared until the dark shadows resolved into humans. Unfortunately, they were all wearing those masks from the movie Scream, the white face stark against the black hoods. There were two to his left, two to his right, one behind his head, and the one between his legs. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he thought he knew who it must be.
"No. What's going on?" Sam slurred, swallowing the excess spit in his mouth as he forced his tongue to work. The group laughed, their voices muffled past recognition. "Stop, I don't want this."
"Like I give a flying fuck what you want," the man thrusting into him said and adjusted his grip so that his fingers bit into the sharp planes of Sam's hips. He obviously knew what he was doing, playing Sam's body like an expert. "You're going to take it, from all of us, until we decide that we're done with you."
Sam groaned, one leg jerked out when the man finally pushed up against his prostate. The dick inside him felt huge, and in the back of his mind, he knew guys did this all the time, but he'd never imagined that he'd ever need to deal with it. It hurt, but not like the guy had just shoved in dry. He was slick, and embarrassed to discover that he was half-hard.
"Look at the pussy, getting hard from a good fucking," the man said, and he deliberately lifted his hand for a second so Sam could see the silver ring glinting from his finger. Dean. It was Dean. "Knew you'd love my cock. Been thinking about it. Wanted to bend you over and fuck into this pretty little ass of yours."
Dean groaned as Sam's thighs jerked, his hips forced Sam's legs even further apart until his muscles screamed in protest. Not knowing what else to do, he locked his ankles around Dean's waist. The new position arched his lower back, and Dean slipped in that last inch until his balls slapped up against Sam's flesh.
"Jesus Christ," Dean cursed, raking his fingernails across Sam's nipples. He shoved his thumb in Sam's belly button and pushed hard as he savagely thrust into Sam's still uncooperative body.
No matter how much Sam tried to thrash, the most he could do was wiggle as his brother used his body. Too soon, the pressure built up, and there was nothing he could do to stop the pressure rolling up from inside him. He tensed everywhere as he came, and Dean swore again, his hips stuttering. The burn of Dean's cock smoothed out and Sam realized that Dean had come in his ass.
He didn't even get the chance to fully understand what had just happened when Dean jerked out. Sam let loose a yelp, couldn't help himself, and shuddered when Dean shoved him over onto his belly. The table underneath him was cold and too short to hold his entire body. His head hung over one in and his toes reached the floor on the other.
"Go to town, fellas," Dean said, his hand pressing down on the middle of Sam's back until he started to have trouble breathing. "This little cocksucker is just begging to have his holes filled."
A cock pushed into his ass, the drag different from when Dean had fucked him, the angle different and not as pleasant for him. Whoever it was didn't wait for Sam's body to readjust, just shoved in and out in short, brutal thrusts. Fingers held his ass apart, digging into places that Sam had never let anyone touch before.
Another hand carded through his hair and then grabbed him, forcing his head back so his throat was flush against the table and he could see the mask looming over him. The man’s other hand aimed his dick straight at Sam’s mouth, but Sam pressed his lips tight together. He struggled to turn his head to the side even when he felt strands of his hair ripping out.
“Don’t even think about it, bitch,” Dean said, bending low and moving his hand up to latch on the back of Sam’s neck. He dug in as if he were trying to grab Sam’s spinal cord, hard enough that Sam had to gasp in pain, and the man instantly shoved his dick in Sam’s mouth. Dean released him after one more warning squeeze and then dropped his fingers to caress Sam’s cheek. “There’s a good whore. Make it good.”
Sam wanted to cry, he hurt, he was confused and embarrassed and he just wanted to go home. The thought conflicted, rattling in his brain as images of his dorm room competed with his memories of Dean in the Impala, Dean in one of a thousand anonymous hotel rooms, Dean smiling and Dean frowning. His imagination supplied images of Dean bending him over the hood of the car, wrestling naked over a twin bed, and showering together. Sam whimpered when he realized that he was hard again, rocking back into the dick in his ass.
The man in front of him was wearing a condom, the plastic taste made Sam want to gag almost more than the man’s ragged thrusting. Tentatively, he sucked a little, adding extra pressure to the curl of his tongue. Maybe if the guy got off quick enough, they’d let Sam go sooner. The man grunted, shoved into Sam’s mouth and held his dick there long enough that Sam started to struggle against Dean’s hand. He felt like his lungs were going to explode.
Laughing, the man pulled completely out, slapping Sam’s face with his dick so that Sam’s own spit flew everywhere. Sam wasn’t even finished gasping for breath before he shoved back in and set up a punishing rhythm. Behind him, the dick in his ass pounded him so hard that every other thrust crushed Sam’s dick into the table.
Sam moved his head slightly and rolled his eyes back until he could see Dean standing beside him. His face was still covered, but his chest heaved as if Dean had been running for his life. Glancing down, Sam saw that Dean’s dick was still hanging out of his pants, and filling again.
Dean leaned down, the plastic of his mask brushing Sam’s face and he spoke quietly enough that Sam could barely hear him, “You’re doing great, baby. Just a few more; you can do it.”
Sam groaned and sucked harder. All his life, Dean’s praise was what kept him going. When the TV only got snow and they’d eaten macaroni and cheese for a week straight. When Dad was overdue and the Social Service people had been by twice, Dean’s whispers were the difference between giving up and struggling through another day. The dick inside his mouth spurted hot against the tip of the condom, and Sam swallowed around him, working until the man pulled away with a satisfied grunt.
Another man pushed in front of Sam, and his mouth was full again. Whoever was behind him finally shoved in harder than before and paused, gripping Sam’s ass tight between his fingers. Sam managed to hold the whine back in his throat when that cock pulled out and another instantly replaced it. Something was different though, a hand smaller than before petted down his spine.
His world shattered in a heartbeat with the single click of a button that sent shockwaves of vibration through his body starting from his ass.
It had to be the girl. No man would be cruel enough to push and pull without rhythm, to set the vibrating dildo on random and hold it against Sam’s prostate before pulling completely out to tease at his rim. She reached between his legs and latched onto his balls, almost using them as leverage in her sporadic thrusting.
Sam could hear the guys around laughing and egging her on. One got close enough to pinch Sam right where his ass met thigh. It hurt and burned, probably left a bruise, but Sam wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for a long time anyway. Another man came in his mouth, and throughout it all, Dean kept petting him, running his fingers along the muscles of his back and sides even into his armpits.
They cycled around him; Sam even sucked on the dildo before Dean said enough and roughly pushed away one guy who looked like he wanted one more go. Dean was bigger than them, he waited until they backed away before he turned back to Sam.
Sam was a mess; his come glued his stomach and the little hairs leading down to his groin to the table. He was drenched in sweat and the skin on his ass felt like it was on fire; lube dripped halfway down his thighs. The table under his face was slick with the spit that dripped out of the corners of his mouth. His throat was raw; the last time he tried to speak he only managed to gurgle.
Dean pushed the hair back from his face, holding Sam’s head up when Sam couldn’t find the strength anymore. His thumbs pressed against the corners of Sam’s mouth until he finally managed to open up again. Dean’s cock was big, thick with precome coating it. Without a condom, Sam tasted the salty bitter taste for the first time and swallowed eagerly. Dean was almost gentle, let Sam explore with his tongue for a few minutes before he slowly slid home to the hilt.
Sam moaned, concentrated on opening his throat up and straightening his neck so Dean could just thrust in and out. Balls slapped wetly at his chin, and Sam dared to take his hands off the table so he could hold them. Dean grunted and slid a thumb over Sam’s eyebrow while he sped up.
When he came, Sam swallowed it all and chased Dean’s dick with his tongue for one last taste when he pulled away.
They pulled a mask backwards over his face and bundled his body in a blanket before they shoved him in a familiar smelling trunk. Sam collapsed, completely fucked out and unable to move; he couldn’t even process what had just happened. After a short time, the car stopped and Dean picked him up, carrying him.
He still had the mask on, but Sam lifted his hand and palmed the amulet hiding under Dean’s t-shirt. He followed the string up and slipped under Dean’s mask so he could rub his fingers over the stubble on Dean’s jaw. He remembered being so jealous when Dean started shaving. Now he just wanted Dean to rub his chin all over Sam’s face – kiss him and leave a burn that people would see for days.
Dean broke into his dorm room and tucked him into bed. He touched Sam’s face, his lips, one last time before he left.
Sam slept through most of Saturday, only getting up to pee and then drink another liter of water. On Sunday, he found out that the Omega house had gone up in flames, completely destroyed. He didn’t see Dean for another three and a half years.
Prompt: Sam in a gangbang, Dean directs
Words: 2,750
It was the third week of class, things were finally settling down and Sam's first paper was due in a little under two weeks. He already had his notes typed out, and coded with different colored highlighters. His roommate had laughed at him for five minutes straight, but Sam needed to keep his four point. He was going to show Dad and Dean that he could live on his own. A safe life.
His desperate attempt to fit in and be normal was probably why he didn't catch Dean until Thursday. All week, he had felt an itching between his shoulder blades that he associated with being watched. Sam was cutting through the lawn between two buildings when he heard a familiar laugh echoing off the walls.
Class started in just under twenty minutes and Sam hated being too late to get one of the seats in the first row, but he couldn't help investigating. There was a handful of rich and preppy guys and one girl lounging on the stone benches memorializing the class of '38. The RA had warned all the incoming freshmen away from the Omega house, and Sam could see than all the guys were wearing their letters.
Sam recognized the broad back and leather jacket of the man facing away from him. He cut the distance between them in half before he felt his blunt fingernails cutting into the fleshy parts of his palm. "What the hell, dude?" Sam asked, rounding the bench and glaring down at his brother.
Cocking his head up, Dean lifted both eyebrows in surprise, in artificial surprise if Sam knew Dean at all. He shifted back on his hands, spread his thighs and lifted his hips like he knew every set of eyes were tracking his movement. He smirked, "Do I know you?"
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam demanded, his anger not quiet enough that he wasn't shifting nervously as the other people Dean was with stood to surround him. They might not have been taller than Sam, but they were broader, muscles thicker than Sam's skinny frame. "Seriously?"
"You must have me confused with someone, kid," Dean said, standing gracefully and exchanging a glance with the others. When Dean moved, his jacket opened enough for Sam to see he was wearing the same Greek letters across his chest. Sam squinted, it had to be some kind of con.
The single girl reached up and pulled a blowpop from between her full red lips. She licked out with her tongue and wrapped her other hand around the waist of the guy closest to her. "Freshmen," she snorted, and looked Sam up and down, "It's too bad they'll let anyone on campus these days."
The group laughed together and Sam blushed hotly. He shoved his hands into the torn hoodie pocket and hunched his shoulders. Dean's laugh was high and cold, a sound Sam had never heard before. Dean jerked his head and the group left together, a mean pack that the other students avoided on reflex. Just before they turned the last corner, Dean turned and looked back at Sam.
Sam locked eyes with Dean and Dean smiled the same expression that Sam had seen every day of his life before he'd left for Stanford.
He tried to put it out of his mind. Whatever game or scam Dean was pulling had nothing to do with him. Maybe it was even a hunt, and that meant Sam wanted even less to do with it. Still, he couldn't help wishing that Dean had just showed up at his dorm and took him out for lunch like a normal person.
A woman's scream cut the silence of an otherwise boring Friday night. Sam dropped the sad, single bag of groceries he could afford and automatically sprinted down the nearest alley. He sucked air into his lungs and his feet pounded the pavement hard enough to send vibration all the way up his legs.
"No! No, please, it hurts!"
Sam put on an extra burst of speed only to skid to a stop when he turned the corner into a dead end. The lighting was bad, but the only person Sam could see was same girl from before, the mean one with Dean. She leaned against the dumpster, alone and obviously unharmed. Her lips twisted into a sadistic smile as she cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Wha-" Sam didn't even get a whole word out before he heard movement behind him.
The blow came suddenly and viciously, with perfect precision to take him down instantly.
Sam woke up in slow, aching degrees. First, he registered that he was on his back, rubbing against something rough. Second, he figured from the cold that he was completely naked. Then, from the pain and hard hands holding his legs open, he realized that he was being fucked. Hard.
"Looks like he's finally waking up."
His mind was still fuzzy, his limbs so heavy that all he could do was barely lift one limp hand before it fell back to the table. Helpless, Sam blinked hard, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, practicing the methods of waking his mind up that Dad had drilled into his head. Panicking wouldn't get him free, only hurt – or dead.
Bit by bit his vision cleared until the dark shadows resolved into humans. Unfortunately, they were all wearing those masks from the movie Scream, the white face stark against the black hoods. There were two to his left, two to his right, one behind his head, and the one between his legs. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he thought he knew who it must be.
"No. What's going on?" Sam slurred, swallowing the excess spit in his mouth as he forced his tongue to work. The group laughed, their voices muffled past recognition. "Stop, I don't want this."
"Like I give a flying fuck what you want," the man thrusting into him said and adjusted his grip so that his fingers bit into the sharp planes of Sam's hips. He obviously knew what he was doing, playing Sam's body like an expert. "You're going to take it, from all of us, until we decide that we're done with you."
Sam groaned, one leg jerked out when the man finally pushed up against his prostate. The dick inside him felt huge, and in the back of his mind, he knew guys did this all the time, but he'd never imagined that he'd ever need to deal with it. It hurt, but not like the guy had just shoved in dry. He was slick, and embarrassed to discover that he was half-hard.
"Look at the pussy, getting hard from a good fucking," the man said, and he deliberately lifted his hand for a second so Sam could see the silver ring glinting from his finger. Dean. It was Dean. "Knew you'd love my cock. Been thinking about it. Wanted to bend you over and fuck into this pretty little ass of yours."
Dean groaned as Sam's thighs jerked, his hips forced Sam's legs even further apart until his muscles screamed in protest. Not knowing what else to do, he locked his ankles around Dean's waist. The new position arched his lower back, and Dean slipped in that last inch until his balls slapped up against Sam's flesh.
"Jesus Christ," Dean cursed, raking his fingernails across Sam's nipples. He shoved his thumb in Sam's belly button and pushed hard as he savagely thrust into Sam's still uncooperative body.
No matter how much Sam tried to thrash, the most he could do was wiggle as his brother used his body. Too soon, the pressure built up, and there was nothing he could do to stop the pressure rolling up from inside him. He tensed everywhere as he came, and Dean swore again, his hips stuttering. The burn of Dean's cock smoothed out and Sam realized that Dean had come in his ass.
He didn't even get the chance to fully understand what had just happened when Dean jerked out. Sam let loose a yelp, couldn't help himself, and shuddered when Dean shoved him over onto his belly. The table underneath him was cold and too short to hold his entire body. His head hung over one in and his toes reached the floor on the other.
"Go to town, fellas," Dean said, his hand pressing down on the middle of Sam's back until he started to have trouble breathing. "This little cocksucker is just begging to have his holes filled."
A cock pushed into his ass, the drag different from when Dean had fucked him, the angle different and not as pleasant for him. Whoever it was didn't wait for Sam's body to readjust, just shoved in and out in short, brutal thrusts. Fingers held his ass apart, digging into places that Sam had never let anyone touch before.
Another hand carded through his hair and then grabbed him, forcing his head back so his throat was flush against the table and he could see the mask looming over him. The man’s other hand aimed his dick straight at Sam’s mouth, but Sam pressed his lips tight together. He struggled to turn his head to the side even when he felt strands of his hair ripping out.
“Don’t even think about it, bitch,” Dean said, bending low and moving his hand up to latch on the back of Sam’s neck. He dug in as if he were trying to grab Sam’s spinal cord, hard enough that Sam had to gasp in pain, and the man instantly shoved his dick in Sam’s mouth. Dean released him after one more warning squeeze and then dropped his fingers to caress Sam’s cheek. “There’s a good whore. Make it good.”
Sam wanted to cry, he hurt, he was confused and embarrassed and he just wanted to go home. The thought conflicted, rattling in his brain as images of his dorm room competed with his memories of Dean in the Impala, Dean in one of a thousand anonymous hotel rooms, Dean smiling and Dean frowning. His imagination supplied images of Dean bending him over the hood of the car, wrestling naked over a twin bed, and showering together. Sam whimpered when he realized that he was hard again, rocking back into the dick in his ass.
The man in front of him was wearing a condom, the plastic taste made Sam want to gag almost more than the man’s ragged thrusting. Tentatively, he sucked a little, adding extra pressure to the curl of his tongue. Maybe if the guy got off quick enough, they’d let Sam go sooner. The man grunted, shoved into Sam’s mouth and held his dick there long enough that Sam started to struggle against Dean’s hand. He felt like his lungs were going to explode.
Laughing, the man pulled completely out, slapping Sam’s face with his dick so that Sam’s own spit flew everywhere. Sam wasn’t even finished gasping for breath before he shoved back in and set up a punishing rhythm. Behind him, the dick in his ass pounded him so hard that every other thrust crushed Sam’s dick into the table.
Sam moved his head slightly and rolled his eyes back until he could see Dean standing beside him. His face was still covered, but his chest heaved as if Dean had been running for his life. Glancing down, Sam saw that Dean’s dick was still hanging out of his pants, and filling again.
Dean leaned down, the plastic of his mask brushing Sam’s face and he spoke quietly enough that Sam could barely hear him, “You’re doing great, baby. Just a few more; you can do it.”
Sam groaned and sucked harder. All his life, Dean’s praise was what kept him going. When the TV only got snow and they’d eaten macaroni and cheese for a week straight. When Dad was overdue and the Social Service people had been by twice, Dean’s whispers were the difference between giving up and struggling through another day. The dick inside his mouth spurted hot against the tip of the condom, and Sam swallowed around him, working until the man pulled away with a satisfied grunt.
Another man pushed in front of Sam, and his mouth was full again. Whoever was behind him finally shoved in harder than before and paused, gripping Sam’s ass tight between his fingers. Sam managed to hold the whine back in his throat when that cock pulled out and another instantly replaced it. Something was different though, a hand smaller than before petted down his spine.
His world shattered in a heartbeat with the single click of a button that sent shockwaves of vibration through his body starting from his ass.
It had to be the girl. No man would be cruel enough to push and pull without rhythm, to set the vibrating dildo on random and hold it against Sam’s prostate before pulling completely out to tease at his rim. She reached between his legs and latched onto his balls, almost using them as leverage in her sporadic thrusting.
Sam could hear the guys around laughing and egging her on. One got close enough to pinch Sam right where his ass met thigh. It hurt and burned, probably left a bruise, but Sam wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for a long time anyway. Another man came in his mouth, and throughout it all, Dean kept petting him, running his fingers along the muscles of his back and sides even into his armpits.
They cycled around him; Sam even sucked on the dildo before Dean said enough and roughly pushed away one guy who looked like he wanted one more go. Dean was bigger than them, he waited until they backed away before he turned back to Sam.
Sam was a mess; his come glued his stomach and the little hairs leading down to his groin to the table. He was drenched in sweat and the skin on his ass felt like it was on fire; lube dripped halfway down his thighs. The table under his face was slick with the spit that dripped out of the corners of his mouth. His throat was raw; the last time he tried to speak he only managed to gurgle.
Dean pushed the hair back from his face, holding Sam’s head up when Sam couldn’t find the strength anymore. His thumbs pressed against the corners of Sam’s mouth until he finally managed to open up again. Dean’s cock was big, thick with precome coating it. Without a condom, Sam tasted the salty bitter taste for the first time and swallowed eagerly. Dean was almost gentle, let Sam explore with his tongue for a few minutes before he slowly slid home to the hilt.
Sam moaned, concentrated on opening his throat up and straightening his neck so Dean could just thrust in and out. Balls slapped wetly at his chin, and Sam dared to take his hands off the table so he could hold them. Dean grunted and slid a thumb over Sam’s eyebrow while he sped up.
When he came, Sam swallowed it all and chased Dean’s dick with his tongue for one last taste when he pulled away.
They pulled a mask backwards over his face and bundled his body in a blanket before they shoved him in a familiar smelling trunk. Sam collapsed, completely fucked out and unable to move; he couldn’t even process what had just happened. After a short time, the car stopped and Dean picked him up, carrying him.
He still had the mask on, but Sam lifted his hand and palmed the amulet hiding under Dean’s t-shirt. He followed the string up and slipped under Dean’s mask so he could rub his fingers over the stubble on Dean’s jaw. He remembered being so jealous when Dean started shaving. Now he just wanted Dean to rub his chin all over Sam’s face – kiss him and leave a burn that people would see for days.
Dean broke into his dorm room and tucked him into bed. He touched Sam’s face, his lips, one last time before he left.
Sam slept through most of Saturday, only getting up to pee and then drink another liter of water. On Sunday, he found out that the Omega house had gone up in flames, completely destroyed. He didn’t see Dean for another three and a half years.
