A/N This is a bit experimental and I'm not sure where it's going. Warnings for some old-fashioned and unreconstructed attitudes as I'm trying to evoke the time in which this fic is set and not my own views. Trigger warnings for serious consent issues throughout this fic.

John Winchester tugged hard on the wrench and sighed. He'd been under Mrs Jacobs' ancient Oldsmobile for more than an hour and every nut he'd tried to undo had been rusted into immobility. Had the old woman had her car serviced since her husband died five years ago? He gave the nut another experimental pull, but it was like it was welded on. He was never going to get the work done on time.

"John," Artie Hollins said, his boots appearing beside the car. "Are you still working on this heap of junk?"

"Yeah," John said. "The damn thing's so rusted up I can't get any of the nuts loosened."

"Wendy kinda went to pieces when Carter died. I guess car maintenance wasn't high on her list of priorities. Look, don't spend all night on it. If you aren't getting anywhere in the next half-hour, go home to your lovely wife and we'll take another look at it tomorrow."

"OK," John said. He was lucky to have such a great boss. "Thanks, Artie."

"No problem, kid," Artie said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

John returned his attention to his work. He moved the wrench and suddenly the bolt sheared off, and he swore as thick, black oil began to drip onto the floor. He reached out for the metal container he used for collecting old oil but it was just out of reach. He began to scoot down towards it and it suddenly slid across the floor and into his hand. He grabbed it gratefully and positioned it under the leak.

"Thanks, Artie. I thought you'd left."

He turned his head to see a pair of expensive-looking Italian leather loafers and frowned. Artie didn't wear shoes like that. In fact, John hadn't seen anyone in Lawrence wearing something so fancy. Puzzled, he rolled out from under the car and peered upwards into the eyes of a young man with startling blue eyes.

"Uh, can I help you?" he asked. "We're closed."

"My name is Michael," the man said. His hair fell in blond curls around his head, far longer than was fashionable. He looked to be nineteen or so and everything about him screamed money. John wagered that his clothes and shoes were probably handmade and likely cost more than his car. He offered a well-manicured hand to John. Aware of how he was covered in oil and grime, he clambered to his feet, dropped his tools on the workbench and wiped his hands on a rag before grasping Michael's hand and shaking it.

"Nice to meet you," he said politely. "But if you're having car trouble, you're gonna have to come back tomorrow."

"I don't have a vehicle," Michael said, looking around the garage curiously.

"Uh," John said. Why was this man here? What did he want? And then he noticed the dog-tags Michael held in his right hand. "Were you in the military?"

Michael looked down at the tags with a slight smile. "No, these were someone else's." He tucked them into his pocket and gazed at John, seeming to drink in every detail he could see. It was more than a little unnerving. "I came to talk to you, John."

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" John said in confusion.

"We have met," Michael said. "But it was a few years ago and I look quite different now."

Since the man looked barely out of high school, it was entirely plausible that he'd been a junior when John graduated. "OK. What can I do for you?"

"Some things have a season," Michael said. It sounded to John like a line from a poem, but why would this kid be quoting poetry at him? He didn't want to be rude, but he'd had a frustrating day and he really wanted to go home. "Some men have a destiny."

"Just men?" John said, amused. "My wife might have something to say about that." Michael looked irritated, the first real emotion he'd shown and John felt a strange heady sensation for a moment. He'd obviously been under that car too long.

"You have a destiny," Michael continued. "Tonight is the first part of it. A child must be conceived tonight, a very important child."

John's skin prickled. This guy was a kook. "Look, buddy, I don't know anything about destiny or fate or anything like that. It's late, I'm tired and I have to lock up now. Maybe you could come back tomorrow?"

"No," Michael said, his eyes intent on John's. They really were very blue, he thought vaguely. They seemed almost to glow in the dim light of the garage. "It has to be tonight."

"That's really not my problem," John said, his civility beginning to slip. Michael grasped his right arm and jerked him forward. John was no weenie, but the blond was deceptively strong given how slight his frame was. "Hey, what's the big idea?"

Michael pulled him closer still, pressing their bodies together and then, to John's total shock, slanted his mouth over John's and kissed him. John went rigid for a second before shoving hard at the stranger's shoulders. He might as well have tried to push over a mountain for all the good it did him. He tried to turn his head away, but Michael's other arm slid up and cupped his head with an iron grip and his tongue pressed insistently at the seam of John's mouth.

John had met homosexuals before of course, especially in the Marines where the close quarters made it hard for anyone to keep secrets about their preferences. John was a live and let live kinda guy and had gently but firmly rebuffed any advances, and nobody had ever tried force the issue. So he was astonished and appalled to realize that despite the fact he'd never felt any inclination towards another man before, and this total stranger had taken it upon himself to assault John against his will, he found his body was beginning to react.

This is madness! I'm a happily married man! But in his surprise he'd relaxed slightly and his mouth fell open. Michael took full advantage, sweeping his tongue inside John's mouth and drawing a throaty groan from him. Arousal, hot and swift and needy, seemed flare almost from nowhere and before long he had stopped fighting altogether and was instead submitting to the onslaught.

His clothing seemed to practically melt from his body, and within moments Michael had stripped them both naked. Michael's body was like that of one of those Greek statues, perfectly proportioned and muscular. But unlike those statues, Michael was fully erect and John felt his panic beginning to return.

"Wait," he said breathlessly. "We can't-"

"We can. Indeed, we must," Michael said sternly. He pushed John backwards until his legs hit the fender of the Oldsmobile and then he was kissing John again and his brain checked out once more. He was only faintly aware of Michael's hands sliding over his buttocks as the blond easily lifted him upwards onto the hood of the car, spreading his legs wide and licking a wicked line from his navel to his neck. He shivered in response. Michael feathered kisses down his chest and back to his stomach, and he bucked as the blond's mouth moved south until he'd taken John into his mouth.

There was little that could shock a military man, but being sucked off by a man within minutes of meeting him definitely qualified. Oral sex was taboo, and had even been illegal until fairly recently, but John knew that many married couples indulged behind closed doors. Between two men however it remained a felony but for some reason that didn't seem important anymore. The only thing that occupied John's mind was the way Michael was relentlessly driving his body towards release. When Michael stopped and lifted his head to meet John's eyes, he let out an involuntary moan.

"Please," he begged, not even really sure what he was asking for.

"I will take care of you, don't worry," Michael assured him. "But we have to do this my way."

John whimpered. It wasn't a sound he thought he could even make. But as Michael parted his legs wider and began to probe at the entrance to his body with one cool finger, John arched off the hood with a yelp. Michael placed a hand over his mouth.

"Shh," he admonished. "Do you want someone to call the police?"

John's eyes widened in terror. If he were caught like this, his life would be destroyed. He nodded his understanding and Michael removed his hand. Between his legs, that single finger was slowly driving John insane. He'd never felt anything like this gasping, desperate need, his insides coiling tightly as Michael worked to open his body up.

"Oh God," he hissed.

Michael had added another finger and John felt his eyes cross. He couldn't hold on much longer and he whimpered again, trying to communicate his desire. Michael met his eyes and smiled.

"Soon," he promised, still working John's body into a higher state of arousal. And then suddenly, his fingers were gone and Michael was crawling up and over his body, his eyes fierce and possessive. John felt something pressing at his entrance, his body burning as it resisted the intrusion. He grimaced, pain and arousal warring for attention and Michael kissed him again, a soft, open-mouthed kiss that made him unconsciously relax. He gasped at the unfamiliar feeling of fullness as Michael surged into him, pleasure flowing over him in a wave.

Michael was murmuring something to him in a language John didn't recognize. He didn't care, as long as the blond kept thrusting in and out of his body. Any thoughts of the crime they were committing, the fact he was cheating on Mary and with a man no less, none of this could compete with the feeling of utter completion as Michael moved within him. He never wanted this to end. But Michael's pace was beginning to become uneven and with a start John realized that he was approaching climax. The idea of Michael spilling his seed inside him should have been repellent, instead John wanted it more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. His toes curled as his own release beckoned.

"Do you want me?" Michael said between clenched teeth. "Do you want me inside you?"

John writhed beneath him, thoroughly wanton and abandoned as he nodded.

"Say it," Michael demanded.

"I want you," John huffed desperately. "I want you inside me."

"Say yes, Michael, I accept."

Had his brain been even capable of rational thought, that might have struck John as an odd thing to say. But he was spinning out of control, his only desire being held tantalizingly out of reach and he was willing to do or say anything.

"Yes, Michael," he panted. "I accept!" His whole body tightened like a bow-string and he bit down into Michael's neck to stop himself from screaming out. Every nerve seemed to burn with pleasure until finally he was submerged and everything blacked out.

Mary Winchester hummed to herself as she checked the meatloaf and turned the oven down. If John didn't come home soon, it would start to dry out. She frowned and considered whether she should call the garage and ask how long he was going to be. But she didn't want to be a nagging wife and John wasn't like her neighbor Ted, who Mary was sure was a cheat and a liar. He'd made his appreciation of Mary's charms obvious from day one, patting her rear and one time 'accidentally' brushing past her breasts, in full view of his wife, Betty. The man was a pig.

But she trusted John. If he was late, she knew it was because he was finishing up some work. It was just strange for him not to call. She sighed, trying not to get mad. The overtime would come in handy, and they were hoping that it wouldn't be long before she was expecting their first child. She wanted that baby so badly, the next building blocks in the nice, normal family she was trying to construct. No more hunting or monsters or any craziness. She was done with the supernatural world. Dad hadn't really approved of her marrying someone who wasn't a hunter, even though he liked John and thought he would make a steady provider. She'd rolled her eyes at that. It wasn't the 1950's anymore, she'd told him. But her dad was dead, and so was her mom and she was tired of losing people she loved. So she'd walked away while she still could.

The front door opened with a bang and she jumped up in surprise. It was still early enough in the spring that the evenings were quite cold, but the icy gust that whistled through the house was more like a frigid January. John stood in the doorway, his body seeming to glow in porchlight. She shook her head at the curious optical illusion. This was John. Safe, dependable, not-at-all supernatural John, the man she loved to distraction.

He gave her a slow, warm smile and a little thrill went through her. She knew that look and liked what it promised. But first things first.

"Artie kept you late tonight," she said and then bit her lip because it sounded like a criticism.

"Old Mrs Jacobs brought her car in because it was making a strange sound," John said, peeling off his jacket and hanging it up. "Damn thing was rusted up like you would not believe."

"Did you get it fixed?" she asked as she moved over to the oven and pulled the meatloaf out.

"No," John said. His nostrils flared at the delicious smell of the food. "I'll have to take another look at it tomorrow."

"I'm sure you'll get it done," Mary said. Her John could fix anything, she was convinced. "Do you want a beer?"

"Do I?" John laughed. "Let me go get cleaned up first."

"Sure," she said. "But be quick, I'm serving up."

John grinned at her and dashed up the stairs taking them two at a time. He was in such a good mood tonight, despite his report of a frustrating day. Mary wasn't going to question it. She frowned when she heard the shower start running. Surely washing his hands and face would be enough for dinner?

She started arranging plates and utensils, removed the mashed potatoes and vegetables from the warming drawer and placed everything on the table. She poured John's beer into a tall glass and after a moment's consideration, opened one for herself as well.

John's footsteps sounded just as she finished laying the table. His face was pink from the heat of the shower and his hair was wet. He grabbed the beer from the table and drank thirstily. She watched the movement of his throat and quivered. Tonight was going to be all about the two of them, she could feel it.

After dinner, they had snuggled up on the couch and talked about Artie's retirement plans. The old man had been hinting for months now that he was thinking of retiring and wanted John and his co-worker Mike to take over the business. But that meant coming up with enough money to buy him out and they had so little spare money each month, that it just seemed out of reach.

"I could go back to work," Mary said. She'd left her last job at the local elementary school after the principal had made it clear he felt married women were a liability. It wasn't legal for him to come right out and fire her, but he'd made her life so unpleasant it had been easier just to quit. "I mean, at least until I get pregnant."

"If you want," John said. "But what if you took a job and then had to leave straight away? It doesn't seem very fair."

"Tell you what," she said. "If it doesn't happen for us this month, then I'll start looking for a job."

"That sounds like a challenge," John laughed, nuzzling into her neck. She shrieked in delight as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin.

"Maybe it is," she said coyly. John's eyes darkened and he kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers and he groaned.

"Why don't we call it a night," he muttered against her temple. She nodded and he stood up, holding out his hand to her. They climbed the stairs to their bedroom, stealing kisses and gentle touches as they went and tumbled inside, giggling. Mary wiggled out of the jeans and t-shirt and John was flinging off his clothes left and right. He cupped her breast through the material of her bra and mouthed at it, leaving a wet patch that cooled and made her shiver. He unclasped the bra with a practiced hand and slid it over her arms before tossing it over her shoulder. She laughed again and then yelped when he slid two fingers under the edge of her panties and began slipping them over her hips.

"Somebody's eager tonight," she said happily.

"I can't help it," John said, his eyes glowing with love and desire. "I'm married to this insanely hot girl and she's all I can think about."

"Mmhmm," she said, arching one brow. "Well I married this handsome Marine, and he likes to drive me wild in bed."

John growled against her stomach and then lifted her off her feet, dropping her onto the mattress and covering her body with his own.

"Hey," she objected jokingly. "You're still wearing your socks!"

"My feet get cold," he said, kissing her again. "It's chilly out there tonight."

"I'll do my best to warm you up," she said, her eyes twinkling. He rolled them over so that she was straddling his hips and she grinned. "Ooh, I'm gonna be a cowgirl tonight!"

John laughed. "Do I look like a cow to you?"

"I don't know," she said, one finger on her chin in mock contemplation. "Maybe more like a horse?"

"What!" John exclaimed. "Come over here and say that!"

Mary lunged forward and captured his mouth, twitching and shivering as his hands shaped her body and gently coaxed her arousal higher and higher until she broke away and shifted her position so she was rocking against his erection and moaning as sparks of sensation passed through her.

"Oh, Mary," he gasped, his breathing becoming ragged. "Love you."

She lifted herself and adjusted her position, pressing him against her entrance and then slowly lowering herself onto him. John panted at the agonizingly slow slide of her body and the hot tight grip around his cock that was almost too much, too sensitive. And then Mary slammed the rest of her body down and he arched beneath her.

"Oh God," he cried out.

She started to move, slowly at first, her hands on his chest and her hanging down like a curtain. Her hips flexed and she rode him, a deliberate, steady pace that caused her arousal to build. She loved him so much, and this moment was perfection as they moved together in harmony, the soft sounds of pleasure filling the room. John suckled on her breasts as he thrust upwards into her body, and her head fell back as she felt her climax approach.

"John," she whispered like a prayer. "John!"

He bucked beneath her as her body squeezed at him, tumbling over the edge and she felt the heat as he spilled inside her. She collapsed on top of him, too tired and sated to move. He kissed her lazily a few times and she smiled as she drifted off to sleep.

Michael lay there, the warmth of this lovely young human woman surrounding him. He'd gently nudged her into sleep in the immediate aftermath of their lovemaking and now he carefully monitored her body as John's seed, infused with Michael's Grace, began its relentless search for an egg to fertilize. Mary had been at peak of her fertility cycle and Michael had high hopes that their coupling would be successful. Satisfied in more ways than one, he exited John's body and returned to Heaven.