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“Why’re you so quiet, kid?” John knew the answer before he even asked. He also knew Dean wouldn’t actually admit it.
Instead, he grunted some nonchalant answer about being tired. This had been going on for nearly a week, ever since Sam had left them for Stanford.
Dean had tried to play tough, pretend Sam’s departure didn’t sting, but John knew the truth. He’d known about his boys and their not-so-brotherly bond for years, but didn’t think it was important to tell them.
Really, with all the things they’d gone through in eighteen years – a little harmless – albeit illegal – sex was the least of his concerns. Now, however, knowing the truth was important.
John continued to let Dean stew silently until they stopped at a motel and had settled down with burgers and beer to do research on a possible case.
“Dean, I know you wanna put on a brave face, but losing someone hurts. It’s okay to feel that.”
“Dad, he’s going to college. Not dead.”
“Maybe not, but it stings anyway. I know how close you boys were – are.”
“He’s my asshat baby brother and a crappy shot,” Dean grumbled biting into his burger.
“And your lover.”
Dean promptly choked on the food in his mouth. “What?”
“Please. I’m not mad, honestly. I’ve known about you boys for years.”
“Dad—“
“Just listen, Dean. I know it hurts to lose family. Hurts just as bad losing a partner. You just lost both. It’s okay to feel it. I’m not going to judge you.”
Dean stared hard at his food, not meeting John’s eyes. So, John continued.
“I’ve been a pretty distant father your whole life, son. And probably pretty crappy one in your eyes. It makes sense that you and Sam found comfort wherever you could get it – even in each other. I swear, I’m not mad. I just wanna help.”
“How?” Dean’s voice was broken.
“However you want me. Whatever you need.”
Dean snorted. "That sounds like a proposition."
"If you want it to be," John said simply. "I said I wanted to be here for you however you needed. If sex will help, well, better me than someone that'll give you something, right?"
He ignored Dean's shocked expression and stood, throwing out the remnants of his food.
"I'm gonna hit the sack. You should think about doing the same - long day ahead of us."
He stripped to his boxers and slid into bed without another word, his back turned to Dean. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd said what he did. He hasn't - prior to this moment - harbored any particularly lustful feelings toward either of his sons. Outside of admitting Dean was handsome as they came and Sam's smile could knock anyone dead, it was purely paternal.
It didn't matter, John told himself as he drifted to sleep. It wasn't like Dean would take him up on the offer.
John didn't know what would come of his talk to Dean. A night of crying and drinking, a cold, outer shell - a defense. Whatever John may have expected, it certainly wasn't the wakeup call he got just a few hours after telling Dean the truth.
The hand down the front of John's shorts was too big to be a girl, but too small to be his own. His eyes fluttered open, feeling a puff of breath against his ear.
"Were you serious, Dad?" Dean's voice was soft, almost shy.
"About?" John asked. He wasn't stupid, Dean's hand was sliding up and down the length of his cock, urging it to hardness - but he needed to hear it.
"Fucking me."
John's cock twitched against Dean's palm.
"If you want it, son."
Dean shuddered against John's back. The rustle of their clothes and quiet breaths were the only noises in the silent room, neither moving enough to even make the old motel bed creak.
"I want it. I'm all stretched and ready."
John sat up and pushed his boxers down, tossing them aside.
"Get naked. Show me," he demanded. Dean scrambled into action, standing and stripping out of his clothes. When he was nude, cock standing hard and proud, he crawled back onto the bed. He leaned down, reaching back to spread his ass open.
John couldn't hold back the groan at the sight. Dean was being honest. His hole was relaxed and swollen, reddened where he'd tugged and massaged it. Lube was trickling down to his balls, dribbling out with each flex of his rim.
Unable to resist, John slipped a finger in. Dean gasped, sighing softly. He pushed back.
"Thicker than Sammy's were... Your cock is too," he whispered.
"Well Sammy's just a boy. I'm a grown man. You like this, Dean?" John asked, thrusting his finger gently.
"Yes! Dad, please," Dean whispered.
"Look at me."
When Dean obeyed, John offered a comforting smile. "Do you want this? I won't be mad if you say no."
Dean chewed his lip, looking down at the bed for a second. He looked back and shook his head. "I wanna get fucked so hard I pass out."
Sparks of white hot need ran down John's spine, straight to his cock. It twitched against his stomach, dribbling precome and giving a throb.
"If it's too much - just say so," he said, sitting up and climbing behind Dean. He pushed his ass out further, passing back a bottle of lube.
"Condom?"
"I know you're clean."
"But I come a lot... Been a while since I had anything but my hand to keep me company."
Dean looked over his shoulder. "Even more reason to fuck me bare. I love it inside me."
"Christ, son. You've got a dirty mouth, you know that?" John mumbled, slicking his cock and adding a little more to the outside of Dean's hole.
"Do you like it?"
"I love it," John assured him. "Just didn't expect it is all... Now why don't you tell me one more time what you want me to do to you." As John spoke, he rubbed the tip of his cock over Dean's ass, just pressing in enough to tease.
Dean whimpered. He wiggles his hips, trying to push back further. "I want you to fuck me."
John tsk-ed softly, slapping his cock over the swell of Dean's ass. "I just told you that you had a dirty mouth. I want you to use it. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Dean."
Dean swallowed audibly. From his position, John could see him flexing his hands against the mattress, his shoulders shaking gently before he spoke.
"I want you to slam your cock into my ass. I want you to use me your personal little sex doll, fuck my hole like I don't even matter. I don't care if it hurts - I want you to make me scream. And then I want you to pin me down and empty your balls so deep in me I see stars."
Dean pressed back against the tip of John's cock again.
"Treat me like the fucking slut I wanna be tonight, Dad."
John's body jerked as he shivered at Dean's words. He splayed his hand on Dean's lower back and shifted his hips. Obediently, Dean remained still while John worked the thick, flared tip of his cock in. As soon as the widest part was nestled in, John grabbed Dean's hips with both hands. He took a steadying breath before slamming in the rest of the way.
Dean dropped his face into the mattress and screamed; his back arching.
John pulled out just enough to look, sighing in pleasure at the sight of his cock stretching Dean wide. His rim was shiny and red, clenching around John like a vice. Dean was shaking softly under John's hands, and he could hear him whispering softly against the mattress, begging him to move, to fuck him, to use him.
John certainly wasn't going to deny Dean that. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming in again. Their balls slapped together and Dean practically squealed, his ass clamping down harder around John.
"Just like that," he pleaded. "Fuck me, Dad, please."
John picked up a brutal pace; long, deep thrusts that had Dean whimpering almost silently against the mattress. Concerned he was hurting him, John reached around, finding Dean's still achingly hard cock and giving it a soft stroke.
Dean grabbed his wrist and pushed it off. He lifted himself onto his knees, wrapped his arms back around John's neck. He nuzzled his ear for a bit before speaking in soft, broken phrases.
"Don't touch me-- I can-- Can come on your cock. Just keep fucking me, Dad. Wreck your little boy's ass."
John shuddered and Dean chuckled, grunting when John slammed in harder.
"You like that?" He whispered. "Knowing you're fucking your son? The boy you raised, helped make? Does it make you feel dirty, Dad? Or just hot?"
John snarled, pushing Dean back down to the mattress. He fucked into him with a renewed vigor, spurred on by Dean's screams of pleasure.
Dean's ass was a hot vice around his cock, squeezing and rippling over his sensitive skin. He didn't stop thrusting even as he began to come, spurting hot and thick up Dean's ass. Dean continued to moan, jerking back against John's cock. Only when come began to dribble down his thighs did John slow to a stop, laying over Dean. He reached around to stroke him to orgasm, huffing a tired laugh when he ran his fingers through a mess of come.
"T-- Told you I could do it with no hands," Dean panted.
"Yes, you did," John agreed, moving just enough to pull his softening cock free.
He helped Dean under the covers, stretching out next to him. He didn't say a word when Dean pressed against his side, one bare leg thrown over his thigh.
"It didn't make me forget Sammy," Dean mumbled against John's chest a few minutes later.
"You shouldn't forget Sam. He is your brother, even if it stings. We're a family. I didn't want it to make you forget... I just wanted you to know, at least for that, you do have another option. Sam and you have a special bond."
"Why'd you tell him not to come back, Dad?"
John sighed. "I was angry. I feel bad now -- it wasn't right to say. I'm proud of him. In a few weeks we'll take a trip down there. Visit him on campus. I'll apologize."
Dean looked up, his eyes sleepy, yet John could see the hope shining bright in them.
"Promise?"
"I promise. But for now, we have a case. Get some sleep."
Dean settled back against his chest. He traced patterns over John's stomach, his breathing deep and steady.
"Can we do this again?" He asked when John was just about asleep.
"If you'd like to, yeah. It was fun."
Dean chuckled, brushing his lips over John's shoulder.
"Goodnight, Dad."