
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8701120.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Other(s)
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester, Bobby_Singer
  Additional Tags:
      Pre-Canon, Drabble
  Collections:
      Sinful_Desire
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-11-01 Words: 1016
****** Learned Behaviour ******
by MajorBrat [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist]
Summary
     Written for a drabble challenge
Notes
     Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally
     archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began
     importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in
     November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted
     announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or
     know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on
     Sinful_Desire_collection_profile.
It wasn’t something that was supposed to happen. It just kind of did that one
time. Not that Dean couldn’t deny the fact that he had wanted it, because he
damn sure had.
 
Sam had left them, taken off for Stanford. John had tore off in his truck,
telling Dean he’d contact him in a few days. Dean was pretty damn sure that
meant he was going on a bender over the fact that Sam had disobeyed his biggest
and most important rule… you don’t leave your family behind.
 
Completely alone and unable to deal with the pain, Dean ran to Bobby’s house.
It was the one place where he’d never really felt out of his depth when they’d
had to stay with friends of his father’s.
 
Bobby had taken him in without a word, having already talked to John the night
before. Seems Johnny had had a feeling that Dean would show up out there. When
it came to Dean’s behaviour, he was hardly ever wrong.
 
Dean hadn’t moved from the swing on the back porch, just sat staring off into
the gleaming metal of the junkyard for hours until he felt as if his eyes would
suddenly burst from all the glaring sunlight. He couldn’t bring himself to
move, to even care really. By way of explanation at showing up at Bobby’s door,
he’d simply stated “Sam’s gone to college. Dad took off.”
 
Bobby had merely nodded his head and opened the door wider so Dean could get
inside.
 
Now, as he sat trying to force himself not to think about the double betrayal
his family had done to him, he felt Bobby watching him from door. He turned his
head and gave a small smile when the man handed him a brown bottle covered in
cold droplets of water. They sat drinking in silence, watching as the sun
slipped down from its place in the sky.
 
The darkness was always the place for hidden secrets and dark confessions. So
as the shadows of night began to hide the shapes and colours of the daytime
world, Dean leaned his head over and onto Bobby’s shoulder where the man sat
comfortably next to him on the swing.
 
“I’m always the one left behind,” he whispered, his voice breaking a little bit
as he said it.
 
Bobby’s hand came up running fingers through the short hairs at the nape of
Dean’s neck like he use to do when Dean had nightmares as a child. “I don’t
know what ta tell ya, Dean-o. I think it’s good that Sammy went. He’s a smart
kid.”
 
Dean pulled away. “How am I gonna take care of him?”
 
“He’s gotta learn to rely on himself at some point. Your daddy and him, they
said some hurtful things to each other. Give ‘em both time to cool down. You
Winchesters are a force to be reckoned with. I think with a little time apart,
ya’ll find a way back together. You need to learn that you can’t shoulder the
burden of all of it, Dean-o. No one person can.” Bobby reached up and tugged
the brim of his hat down.
 
Dean turned to look at the older man, catching just a bit of Bobby’s face in
the cold moonlight. “You haven’t called me that since I was sixteen.”
 
Bobby snorted. “You told me to stop. So I did.”
 
“You stopped touching me, too. Wouldn’t go near me if I was bleeding or hurt,
had Sam patch me up or Dad if he was able. Why?” Bobby started to stand up but
Dean reached out and grabbed at his jacket. “You were the first one to leave.
You may have still been here but you really weren’t, not when you were around
me.”
 
Bobby spun around to look at Dean. “Damn it, Dean, you know why!”
 
“Can’t help that you caught me with him. I saw it all plain as day, Bobby. The
look of disgust on your face but I wanted it from him. I asked him for it.”
 
“He was your father, Dean.”
 
“And he was your fuck buddy when it suited him. That’s not what stopped you,
though. You wanted me. I saw it in your face, Bobby. You stood there watching
as he fucked me and you liked it.” Dean grinned evilly, standing up and keeping
his grip on Bobby’s jacket. He pressed himself closer, chuckled under his
breath. “And from what I’m feeling you still want it.”
 
Dean dropped to his knees, hands scrabbling at Bobby’s button and fly but he
met with no physical resistance just Bobby’s whispered “Dean, don’t.”
 
He took him deep, swirled his tongue around the head when he pulled back. He
used every trick he knew until Bobby’s hands came up to cradle his head, hips
thrusting his cock deeper and harder into Dean’s mouth. Dean hummed, shoved a
hand down the front of his own jeans as he started jacking himself in time with
Bobby’s thrusts. He pulled back for a minute, licking a stripe up the underside
of Bobby’s dick. “Pretend your him, Bobby. Or pretend I’m him if that’s what
you need.” He closed his mouth back over the head and started bobbing with a
ferocity.
 
“Fuck, Dean!” Bobby’s voice broke on the name, the images of what Dean had said
flittering through his brain and forcing the orgasm out of him. He felt as if
he shattered apart then, falling back against the railing of the porch, hearing
Dean’s own groans of orgasm as he suckled at the softening cock in his mouth.
 
Bobby didn’t remember being cleaned up and tucked back in. All he could
remember was the smell of Dean’s spent release and his own in the air. Watched
as Dean, reached over and picked up the two empty bottles and turned to go back
in the house.
 
“Thanks, Bobby,” was all he said. And didn’t that just fuck with your head.
 
He was a friend of the Winchesters, but he’d never claimed that he actually
knew them. Because deep down he realized he never would.
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