Title: Asses and Ego (John's thoughts on Heat in My Seat)

Characters: John, Sam and Dean

Rating: PG 15 for language and sex talk

Summary: A follow up to Heat in My Seat. For some reason John wanted to tell me this – so I thought I'd share it with you.

XXX

Dean had never been one to need some kind of artificial ego boosting when it came to girls. Oh there were other places John thought Dean felt less than confident about, school for instance, but when it came to girls, he was smooth as silk. It was a good thing too, because Dean Winchester looked the part, startling green eyes and washboard abs courtesy of John himself. So yeah, Dean Winchester was never short on cockiness when it came to girls. His boy was a good-looking boy. It gave a man a certain measure of pride to know that his genes were good for something. He gave his Mary most of the credit though and it was when he thought of her that was when he most wanted knock Dean down a peg or two.

Cocky kid.

If his mother saw the way that kid swaggered when he walked and licked his lips when he talked.

Well, he figured Mary would certainly give the boy a good talking to. Or she just might grab him by the ear and swat his ass. Then again, she might have laughed at some of it. His Mary was a little too much like Dean sometimes. She'd flirted with John something fierce. But she had been a one-man kind of girl and Dean? Well Dean was obviously doing his best to make sure that every girl in the lower 48 had a chance to sample his wares.

Not that it could really happen, but it didn't stop the boy from trying.

Dean was randier than a stud dog chasing a bitch in heat. As it was, the best John could do was try not to keep the chain too damn short and hope the boy didn't choke on the leash.

Dean loved every minute of it.

John not so much.

Well, John really didn't say that but he figured it was obvious that he wasn't as impressed with Dean's sexual prowess as Dean was. John would roll his eyes and grunt whenever Dean made a comment and Dean did comment. John was pretty sure though that Sam got to hear most of Dean's bragging rights. If Sam's occasional horrified expression or exasperated huffs were any indication, he was learning about the birds and the bees far too early in John's opinion.

Dean Winchester was walking testosterone. Sometimes the boy was so caught up in the opposite sex John was pretty sure Dean might have dislocated something with the snap of his head when he saw anything with two legs and boobs walk by.

John tried.

He did.

He gave him the sex talk.

The "Keep it covered Talk."

The "I don't want to be a grandpa Talk."

"If you come home with an STD, you better hope it isn't the kind that kills you because I will kill you anyway Talk".

And of course the "If the girl says no - it means no Talk".

When Dean had hemmed and hawed and blushed a brilliant shade of red over the Talk. John had told him point blank, if he couldn't discuss having sex then he sure as hell shouldn't be doing it.

Dean all but took notes after that one.

He was pretty sure Dean got it.

John didn't make threats idly, but he also didn't really like coming down too hard on the boy. He did of course, if he needed to. It was worth it to him to have him safe. Sometimes John just had to smack a little sense into the boy. Most times, that's all it was though, a sharp cuff to Dean's head and the kid would straighten up and fly straight for a minute or three.

But once in a while the kid just lost his mind.

That was obviously the case today. John knew that Dean knew it wasn't gonna be pretty because John didn't like phone calls regarding the boys in any way, shape, or form. Their job was to sit tight and stay under the radar. A lot of times he wasn't home and yeah, they probably got into way more trouble than most kids but they got out of it too. He had to give them props for handling a lot of shit when he was gone. But when he was home, he expected them to at least have the common sense God gave a turnip.

Which is why the midnight phone call from the local sheriff kind of floored him.

And it wasn't even from the fucking police station.

First of all, it pissed him off that Dean had snuck out period. Then the fact that he had snuck out underneath John's nose?

Well that was a matter of pride.

Yeah, the case could be made that the boy was that damn good, but it also made John feel like an idiot and John Winchester did not do idiot well.

Not to mention he was roused from a perfectly good two hours of sleep in a row, which for John, was a commodity almost more precious than sanctified silver.

So when John got to the sheriffs house, he already knew where the night was heading for Dean and it wasn't milk and cookies and a pat on the head.

Then to walk in and see the boy naked on the floor, condom on his dick, hands cuffed behind his back and a shade of crimson not seen in the natural world, well John kind of lost his shit.

He didn't do anything at the time of course, just asked Mr. Sheriff to uncuff his boy and made Dean apologize. Dean did and grabbed his jeans, sans underwear and snatched his shoes as he was almost hopping out the door bare-assed.

Which was just fine with John because bare-assed was exactly how he needed him.

The ride home was quiet. Deadly quiet and John hoped that alone would give the kid a sense of doom. He wanted him to feel doom. He really, really did.

Because Dean knew better.

John fumed all the way home and by the time they got in the house John had lost any amount of patience he may have had. He was ticking off the offenses in his head.

The boy snuck out of the house.

The boy tried to have sex with the sheriff's daughter.

The fucking sheriff's daughter. When would a Winchester ever be screwing around with the law? Really screwing around with the law!

The boy had the audacity to get caught doing it.

At least the kid had the common sense to use a condom.

But damn it. They pushed the envelope everyday. Their job was dependent on keeping things quiet and all of a sudden they were front page material in sheriff whoevers latest edition of the Sex with My Daughter Times.

Christ knows Dean wasn't the only one involved and at least the cop had seemed to realize that but it didn't change the fact that Dean had fucked this up in monumental proportions.

The boy was still blushing in the living room when Sam came down. John sent him right on back up the steps faster than a jackrabbit. At least one of his spawn had the sense to get the Hell out of Dodge.

Dean was looking about as miserable as a boy could be. John was quite sure that cruddy latex on his dick was uncomfortable over the jeans but just to draw out the punishment a little more, John thought about making him keep both the jeans and the condom on while he whupped him. It might not hurt his ass as much but the dick chafing would be almost worth the lack of stripes.

John took a deep breath. No, he was a mean sonofabitch but he wasn't a heartless sonofabitch.

Dean was all yes, sir and no sir and dropping trou almost faster than John could get his belt off.

Served him right.

So he walloped him good. Sent him up to his room with unlimited grounding in the future. Dean seemed okay with the sentence, if more than a little snotty over the application of same.

Not that John expected anything different.

Damn teenagers.

That night he hit the hay early, or maybe late, considering it was 0130 before everything was said and done. Right behind Dean in fact.

He threw himself on the lumpy mattress, punched the pillow a time or two and tried to get back to sleep.

Through the wall he could hear the muffled laughter of the boys. Sam's high pitched and still child like, Dean's lower.

The boys were growing up and it didn't take a mind reader to know that there would be plenty more girls in their futures and plenty more dads.

John hoped there damn well be no more sheriff's daughters.

End.