***WARNING*** The following chapter contains explicit consensual underage sex! Read at your own risk!
The next few days proved exceedingly busy, filled with recitals, football games and parent-teacher meetings, but Steve and Tony managed to keep an eye out for any behavioural changes in Dean. They were not disappointed.
Not only did Dean stop fidgeting, he smiled more, snarked less and was overall just a more pleasant fourteen year old.
"Are you kidding me?" Tony asked as the two were cleaning up from breakfast one day. "That's literally all it took was some exercise? Why the fuck is that all it took?"
Steve chuckled and hugged him from behind. "It's not like he's one hundred percent better, he still has trauma in his past that one sparring session doesn't even attempt to fix. Don't forget we're still waiting on that specialist Phil sent for to come in to talk to him."
After the last fateful therapy session, Phil Coulson reached out to the couple and told them he knew of someone that could replace her. He guaranteed that whoever they were would be able to stand Dean's… eccentric therapy habits.
"Yeah, but Steve." Tony turned to face the man. "He's so much happier."
Steve's face broke out into a smile. "So much happier. And his history teacher said he even stopped 'making a ruckus' the last few days!"
The two stood in thought, thinking about how far their boy has come.
"Oh, I forgot to mention, Bruce and Clint's therapists mentioned that they might benefit from a joint session. Something about shared experiences." Tony informed his husband.
"Sounds like a plan. Do they know?" Steve asked.
"Apparently they're supposed to introduce the idea this week and see how it goes."
"Any news on Thor, Nat or Loki?"
Tony shook his head. "Same old same old. Although no news is good news for Thor and Nat. And at least Loki isn't getting any worse. Last I heard he was walking again, so we're one step closer to bringing him home."
Steve nodded. "That will be a magnificent day. To have the family together at last."
"I'm fine, I don't need therapy."
"No you're not, and yes you do."
"I'm fine."
"No one goes through what you did and are just 'fine' afterwards."
"Yeah? Well I am. Deal with it baby cakes."
"Cut the bullshit Dean."
"Bullshit? Aren't you supposed to be child therapist? How would the parents react if they knew you were so crass? Or are you just being naughty for me?"
"First off, you're fourteen. That's gross. And you don't need me to hold your hand. You've seen shit and you need to talk about it."
"I don't need to do shit lady! I don't know who you are, but-"
"You've been at war ever since you were four years old." That shut Dean up. He looked at his therapist with wide eyes.
"My dad left a year and a half ago. What are you talking about."
"Your mom died when you were four in a house fire right?" She inquired. Demeanor completely different from before. Dean relaxed. Of course that's what she was talking about.
"Yeah. And what of it? I hardly even remember her, how the hell could that relate to anything-"
"Because after that your dad introduced you to the supernatural."
Dean snapped his eyes up to the lady. A Dr. Mills. Tony said she was recommended for him and Sam by-
"Phil. Phil told you. That is so-I can't believe he would-so irresponsible! Does he even realize-"
"Phil didn't tell me anything. I actually knew your dad, John."
Dean stopped his ranting. "What?"
"He saved me a few years back, my husband and child got turned into zombies. Not fun." She looked Dean straight in the eye as she told him.
"So Phil-"
"Knows that I know. And knows that you can't go to a regular therapist, so here I am."
"You a hunter?"
"Locally. If anything threatens my town I threaten them sort of thing. But I don't actively seek out trouble."
"So you know that hunters don't 'talk' about their 'shit'. Hell, the only therapy I saw my dad do was called whiskey. Tequila if it was a bad night. We don't do good feelings and fuzzy warm hugs."
"You ever drink?" She asked him, her voice void of any judgments, as if she couldn't care less about the answer.
"Yeah. Stole some beers and whiskey from my dad once in a while. One time I chugged a vodka bottle at a party, fun night. The girl I was with was certainly impressed." He winked at Dr Mills.
"You mean you had sex with this girl?" She asked in the same tone.
Dean licked his lips and leaned back in his seat. "A gentleman never kisses and tells."
"So you're a virgin."
"Woah!" Dean sat back up quickly. "The fuck I am! Here did you get that from?"
"How old were you when you had sex for the first time?"
Dean sputtered. "You don't play around here lady. But fine. Twelve. Sweet sixteen year old named Martha." Dean seemed to settle in again as he recalled the intimate details of the encounter. "She was smoking! Legs for days and a pussy so tight it took more than one try to get it in." Dean winked again.
"You were twelve. With a sixteen year old. And are you proud of that?"
"Proud?" Dean scoffed. "Lady, that's my crowning achievement! Until I lay a playboy that is."
Dr Mills sighed. "I recall reading that you have a foster brother named Clint that's twelve. Is that right?" She asked.
"Yeeeaaahh. What of him."
"Do you think he's old enough to be having sex Dean?"
The question threw Dean. "Um. I-I don't- I mean-"
"Simple question Dean."
"Well he's different! He's just a kid! I'm not!" Dean argued.
"Yes. You've had to grow up a lot Dean. More than any child should have to. But it doesn't matter how mature you feel, you were Clint's age. With someone four years older."
Dean opened his mouth to argue again, but nothing came out. He struggled to find words for a moment before standing up and walking out of the room. Steve was seated in the waiting area reading a book as Dean stormed out.
"We're leaving." The teen growled.
Steve looked up at the teen, and upon seeing his expression, merely nodded and closed his book.
Fuck this was the life. What did that idiot woman know anyways? He could have sex if he wanted to!
Dean was currently in school. More specifically in the room above the gym stage that was known for being 'the couples spot'. Honestly the school should've locked the door as soon as they put a couch in it, what did they think was gonna happen?
"Ugh, please, please!"
Oh, right. Back to the matter at hand, or, dick.
"Shh, I gotcha sweetheart, I got ya." Dean bent down and kissed Becky Walters, a cheerleader a grade older than him. He knew she was loose and that's why he went for her. Returning his attention to the girl, he rubbed her back through her shirt and slowly moved it down to the cleft of her ass, kissing her thoroughly all the while.
Becky clutched at his shirt, pulling her closer to him. With one hand at her ass, Dean used the other to start fondling her breast, paying special attention to where her nipple would be under her bra.
Becky moaned into his mouth and started moving her ass against Dean's hand. The teen started to kiss and lick down the girls throat, biting lightly underneath her ear and at her collarbone, causing her to mewl in pleasure.
"Please Dean." She panted, arching into him.
Dean smirked at her. "Told you I'd have you begging."
"Better get to it then." The girl snarked right back.
Abandoning her ass for the moment, Dean worked on lifting the girls incredibly tight shirt. The moment her flesh was in view Dean started kissing and biting her stomach, even going far enough to tongue the inside of her belly button as he gazed at her through his eyelashes.
This caused Becky to grip Deans hair. Hard.
As he worked himself upwards, he reached behind her to undo her bra, which, no surprise, he got in one snap. Becky fumbled for a minute actually removing her shirt completely and removing her bra before Dean attacked her breasts with his mouth and hands.
He sucked and pinched and twisted and drank in her moans and gasps until he felt her rolling her pelvis against him. He stopped with a gentle bite on her left nipple and looked at her while he unbuttoned her jeans.
He kept eye contact as he pulled them down her legs and over her feet.
When Becky's jeans were thrown across the room, Dean returned to lick the inside of her mouth, rubbing one finger down her wet thong. Damn. A fucking thong!
He pushed the skimpy fabric to the side and ran his finger down her folds with one hand and pinched her nipples with the other.
"You got a condom?" She panted into his mouth.
"Someone thinks they're getting some." Dean teased, his finger now rubbing right over Becky's hole.
"I better be getting some or I'll hold you down and sit on you face instead." Becky teased back, making Dean moan and his hips jump.
"Yeah I got a condom."
"Good. But you are wearing way too many clothes." Becky started pushing up Deans shirt until he threw it across the room to join her jeans. He then stepped off the couch and pulled down his jeans to let them pool on the floor before letting him boxers fall to the ground.
Dean's erection stood tall, ready for the job he had ahead, twitching in anticipation. He rolled on the condom and climbed back on top of Becky, setting his fingers back to rubbing at her entrance, slowly pushing a finger inside and-
"I told you they were in here!"
Voices came from behind them. The two sprung to cover themselves with strewn clothing.
Shit.