Title: Revelations
Author: Wincesteriffic Kaz
Info: Ficlet - John overhears something he was never meant to hear. Dean/Sam
Author's Note: I don't even know where this one came from. I've always steered clear of John knowing about the boys but this just came to me and demanded to be written. I feel a little dirty. LOL Enjoy!
Graphic depictions within.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did…they'd never get dressed. Heh heh heh
~Reviews are Love~
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"Boys." John Winchester watched his sons shoving each other in the front seat of the Impala and rolled his eyes as he walked over. "Dean, stop screwing with your brother."
Dean snorted a laugh and leaned back to look up at his dad from the driver's seat. "So, what's the deal? We stayin' here tonight?"
"Yeah." John handed a key through the window. "You boys are in room three. I'm in twelve down at the end, unless you two wanna try and squeeze into the same bed together."
"Hell no!" Sam said easily and looked his shorter, big brother up and down. "I mean, he's small enough, but I like my space."
"You little shit!"
"Boys!" John ran a hand over his face as Dean thumped his brother hard in the shoulder. "Behave tonight. No screwing around. It's already late and we've got a lot of miles to eat up tomorrow."
"Yes, sir." Came from both boys in unison.
John smirked. "Alright; go on. Night, boys." He grabbed his bags from the truck and began the long walk down the motel to his room at the far end while the boys vanished into their own. He opened the door, turned on the light and stared. "Oh, no way in hell." The window over the bed had been left open and the previous night's rain had half-flooded the dingy little room. It reeked of mildew and mold, and even the overhead light flickered like it was trying to hide the disrepair of the place, assuming, of course, there was no ghost or demon hanging around, which John seriously doubted. John stepped back out and stalked up the motel to the rental office.
"Hey!" John slammed the office door behind him and pinned the clerk with a glare. "Give me a different room. The one you put me in has a damn water bed thanks to the open window."
"Oh, shit! Sorry about that. Uh, yeah. Hang on."
John rolled his eyes while the teenager behind the desk fumbled through a box of keys. "Any time now. I'm beat."
"Right, yeah. Sorry. Here." The boy came out with a new key and traded it with John for the other. "You're in room four. Should be ok in there."
"Right." John shook his head and went back outside. At least he was in the room next to his boys now. That was comforting, and he'd be able to hear if they stayed up arguing with each other half the damn night as they were sometimes wont to do.
He pushed open the door and sighed. The new room wasn't a whole lot better than the last, but at least the bed was dry. The brown comforter looked threadbare and the walls were prison grey and did little to offer comfort. He tossed his bag on the chair next to the bed and pulled of his jacket. "Fuck, I'm tired."
"Fuck, Dean. More."
John stopped in mid-stride to the bathroom at the sound of Sam's voice and furrowed his brows as heard what could only be someone's hand striking bare flesh.
"Can't believe you grabbed my cock like that with Dad right there. Jesus, Sammy."
John's brain short-circuited as he heard what Dean was saying and the realization of what was happening in the next room over. It sent a flood of something warm through him and a stomach clenching fear, and yet…
It was wrong. John knew it was wrong. He knew he should march over to their room right that second and beat them both until sanity found them again. His sons were having sex… with each other. He didn't even have to put his ear to the wall to hear it. The walls were paper thin and it was like he was in the room with them, each word clear through the plaster. And not just sex… apparently very kinky sex, beyond the whole brothers thing.
"You want more, Sammy? Don't think I've punished you enough yet?"
"More, Dean. Harder. Come on."
"So fuckin' dirty, baby boy."
John startled at the sound of flesh hitting flesh again and rested his forehead against the dirty wall while Sam moaned and whimpered on the other side. "Jesus," he whispered and wasn't even aware as his own hand crept down to cover his lengthening cock.
"Dad could'a caught us. Makin' me fuck you in the bathroom like that. Jesus, Sammy."
John reared back from the wall in surprise and remembered; his boys had gone to the bathroom at the last rest stop and been gone for twenty minutes. When they'd returned, Sam had been red-faced and flushed and made an excuse about not feeling well.
"I'll be damned," John ground out and then put his ear back to the wall at a particularly loud shout from his youngest.
"Think I should tell him, Sammy? Tell dad how your greedy little hole likes my cock? Huh? How it looks so damn pretty all stretched out around me and how you beg for it?"
"Please, Dean. Please, please. Want it. Want you."
"Louder, baby. Dad's on the whole other end of this place. I wanna hear you."
-smack!-
The idea that Sam was begging his older brother to spank him twisted some long-hidden kink in John's mind. "Make him feel it," John whispered over the crack of Dean's hand hitting Sam's ass again and again. He shuddered with the wrong of it and yet still unzipped his jeans and pulled his now hard cock out into the air. Sam was howling over the steady slap-slap of his brother's hand and begging in between breathlessly and John couldn't get enough of hearing his baby boy beg his big brother like that.
"Like it when I hit your hole, Sammy? Yeah, you do. Makin' it all red and sore for me."
"Oh, God," John breathed and started stripping his cock with his rough hand. He pushed harder against the wall, not wanting to miss anything.
"Spread 'em, Sammy. That's it, pull those cheeks apart for me. Yeah, like that. So fuckin' hot, baby boy. Jesus. Yeah. Yeah."
"Oh, God, Fuck, Dean!"
John began pumping into his own fist as Sam cried out and he knew Dean was fucking him now; knew his eldest son was working his cock up into Sam's tight ass if the sounds were anything to go by.
"So tight, Sammy! Christ, it's like I didn't even fuck you an hour ago. Nuh-uh, keep that ass in the air. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, baby."
John began to hear the sound of wood hitting wall and closed his eyes as he jacked his cock, picturing it in his head; Sam bent nearly in half over the bed as Dean pounded into his ass and drove the most desperate, mewling cries out of him. "Fuck, I'm goin' to hell."
"Dean! Harder, fuck! Harder!"
"Like this, baby?"
"Yeah, Dean. Pound him. Come on." John's breath was stuttering in his lungs as he listened to his sons. His hips pistoning as he stroked his cock, and as Sam shouted out his release, John's own found him and he came in hard spurts over the dirty wall. "Fuck. Fuck!" He groaned and tried to keep his voice down, but he needn't have worried; Sam was making enough noise for them both.
"Didn't even… have to touch… your cock… so pretty… when you come… come for me… FUCK!"
Dean's shout left John trembling against the wall as his sons voices began to fade along with their passion. He heard soft whispers, loving words as Dean took care of his brother and Sam's emotion-filled replies. He heard the bed springs squeaking and then nothing. John eased away from the wall and looked down at his hand. Come spattered his fingers and dripped in long lines on the wall as he backed away and scrubbed his clean hand over his face.
"Fuck is wrong with me?" he asked himself, still taking care to keep his voice down. He didn't want the boys to hear him and that was another thing. Why hadn't he stopped them? One yell would have been enough. They'd have heard him. He should be over there in that room right now putting the fear of John Winchester into them; splitting them up so it never happened again. And yet, there he was simply standing and staring at the wall like he could see them through it and making sure they didn't know he was there.
John went into the bathroom and wiped his hand off on one of the stringy towels. He put his cock away with a soft grunt for over-sensitive skin and walked back out into the room. He sat on the end of his bed and tried to decide why he wasn't stopping them. They sounded happy. That was the thought keeping him from the door. They sounded content with each other the way he and Mary had once been. Oh, not the spanking of course – and where the hell did THAT come from? Didn't Sam get beat up enough on the job? - but the way they cared for each other after? How could he take that away from them? The life they led was bound to be a short one no matter how well he trained them, and if they found some small measure of comfort in each other, well… at least they'd chosen someone they could trust absolutely; someone who wouldn't get dead through a lack of knowledge about the supernatural.
"Dammit." John heard Dean's voice again; the same caring tone and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Dean's number and then moved to the furthest side of the room away from the wall separating them. Dean's voice carried in a curse through the wall and John smirked as a moment later, his son answered. "Dean."
"Geez, Dad, do you know what time it is?"
"Yes, and that's why I'm calling. We're, uh… gonna get a late start tomorrow." John looked over at his bed and hated himself a little. "You boys… you can sleep in. I'll call you before I'm ready to leave."
"Ok. Sure we could use the extra rack time. Thanks, Dad. Night."
John listened to the rumble of Dean's voice and then Sam's and realized why he'd done it. He was hoping that they'd put the extra time in the morning to good use. "Oh, I'm goin' straight to hell." He went back to the bed and lay down, not even bothering to kick his boots off. He'd just gotten off listening to his sons have sex; he didn't deserve to be comfortable. "Night, boys," he whispered into the quiet room and closed his eyes, trying to picture his wife in his mind as his hand crept into his jeans yet again to thoughts of his boys.
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The End.