Title: Paint it Black 6/9
Pairing: John/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3425
Disclaimer: If only John and Dean were mine... *sigh*
Warning: Drug abuse, Sexual abuse, Violence

Summary: Dean's been keeping secrets. His family's not sure how to deal with that.

A/N: Yay! It's finally being beta'ed! Thanks to wickedlilwitch, who finally recuperated from Unrelated. If there are mistakes, blame her. J/k. Any mistakes are my fault as always.

Chapter Six

Three Days Ago…

Sam felt completely out of his element. The woman had recognized Dean on the street and after a second of squinting at her, he seemed to recognize her too. She'd wanted money, but Dean offered to feed her at a nearby diner. Her hair was a dull pale brown, uneven and shot through with white. She was hollow cheeked and emaciated. About a third of her teeth were missing. She looked about 60. And she was obviously a junkie. Sam wondered if this was someone his brother had known when he was using, if she was someone he used to get high with.

He sat next to his brother, across from the woman, hunched over and listening to their conversation. He wanted to understand this side of his brother that he'd never known existed. There was so much he didn't know about Dean.

"I really appreciate this, Dean," the woman said after she finished shoveling the food in like she hadn't eaten in years. Dean ordered her a huge dinner and a slice of pie.

"No problem, Becca. When's the last time you ate?"

She gave a vague shrug and tried to smooth down her brittle hair with twitchy, claw like hands. Her fingernails were raged and filthy. "It's hard tryin' to scrap together enough to stay fed, you know?"

Dean nodded like he did.

"You, uh, you got a little to spare? I just need to get myself right."

"Not givin' you money for drugs, Becca."

She frowned at him. "You one of those self-righteous bastards now, Dean? Tryin' to save me from myself?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not gonna help you kill yourself. I'll give you food. I'll order you some take out that you can eat later. Even buy you some canned food for tomorrow and the next day. But I ain't gonna give you money."

"I'm already startin' withdrawals."

"Yeah, I been there. I know how bad it hurts. There are places you can go that'll help you get off."

"Tried that. Didn't stick."

"Don't you have somethin'… someone to live for? Someone worth fightin' for?"

She looked down at the table. "Everyone I love is better off without me."

"You sure about that? Cause I think you're dead wrong."

She huffed out a laugh. "I gotta… I gotta go."

"Wait!" He put a hand over hers before she could slide out of the booth. "Can I give you my number?"

"What for?"

"If you change your mind, about the people you love, call me."

"Dean…"

"No. Promise me you'll keep it. Just in case. And you'll call me when you're ready to get clean."

She blinked at him for a second and then nodded. He wrote his number down on a napkin and she put it in her pocket before hurrying away.

"How do you know her?" Sam asked once she'd scurried away.

"She used to be my girlfriend."

"Dude… you got a mommy kink I don't know about?"

"God, no. She's only a year younger than me"

"She's… she's in her twenties?"

"Yeah." Dean rubbed his face. "Every time I see somebody that strung out… That coulda been me, man. If I'd lived this long. Fuck, Sam. That coulda been me."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

Two days later, Dean was sitting on Sam's couch, his knee jiggled as he waited for John to show up and flipped through channels too fast to possibly know what was on any of them. His brother and father had talked the day before and decided that John would come to pick him up. Dean seemed to be suffering some serious anxiety. The closer they got to their father's ETA the worse it was.

"Dean… you don't have to go back," Sam said quietly.

"Really? What the hell 'm I gonna do instead?" Dean asked sarcastically, still flipping channels and jiggling. Sam desperately wanted to put his hand on his brother's knee and just make it stop. "Spend the next four years on your couch?"

"You could get a job and we could get a bigger place, with another bedroom."

"No Sam. This is your life. Not mine."

"Dean-"

"Sam. 'M goin' back. It's where I belong."

Sam huffed out a breath. It was long past time for Dean to get out of their father's shadow and be his own person. Stand on his own two feet. It wasn't right that John didn't encourage him to do that, that he was perfectly happy to have Dean throw away his life all in the name of his vendetta. "But, Dean-"

"I have a son."

That was something Sam wasn't expecting. It completely threw him off kilter. He had a nephew that he knew nothing about? "What? Why didn't you tell me?"

Dean shrugged. "There's a lot I haven't told you. But, you're right. That's kinda big. I just… I couldn't talk about him before. When I came here, my entire frame of reference was fucked up."

"Frame of reference?" Sam repeated. That didn't sound like something he'd expect to hear his brother say.

"Yeah, Sam. Frame of reference. Need me to tell you what it means?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "For me to tell you about him, I'd have to tell you about more than I wanted to talk about, okay? Drugs fuck with your ability to deal with shit. Gettin' sober again was all I could handle at the time."

"That include Dad?"

"Yeah… but not for the reasons you think. Dad was… Dad was great. I never would've made it without him. I just… I was afraid of him bein' disappointed with me and I couldn't deal with that, you know? But it's time now."

"How'd you end up with a kid?" Sam asked. He didn't want to talk about his brother's over attachment to their father. And he was intrigued by the idea of Dean as a father.

"I knocked up a girl, Sammy," Dean said teasingly. "She was an addict too. He was born addicted and her mother got custody. The Mom was dying and she couldn't find the girl, but she found my number in her daughter's things. My name was on the birth certificate, so all I had to do was show up and… pick him up. Seems like it should be harder than that to become a parent. It took more effort for me to get my damn driver's license then to become responsible for another person." Dean snorted softly. "She named him Avery, dude. Avery."

"Where is he?"

"With Dad."

"Dad?" Sam knew that their father had raised them alone, but it was still hard for him to imagine the man taking care of a child.

"Yeah. Where else would he be? I been gone too long. Seein' Becca reminded me of some things."

"Like what?"

"Becca's the girl I knocked up. Avery already doesn't have a Mom… he needs me. Dad needs me too. And I need them."

"She… she doesn't know you have Avery, does she?"

Dean shook his head. "Doesn't even know I know about him."

"Maybe you should have told her."

"Yeah, cause all the kid needs in his life is a junkie. Kid's got enough strikes against him as it is.

"You can bring your son here."

"I'm not leavin' Dad, Sam."

"It's not your job to take care of him."

"No. But that doesn't mean I don't want to. Or that I want to get away from him. I don't. I'm just…"

"Just what?"

"Afraid he'll look at me different now."

"Dean… what happened to you?"

Dean stared down at his hands, his bottom lip trembling. He bit it for a second and breathed though his nose. "Don't make me say it, Sam," he finally said, his voice a ragged whisper. ""M not gonna lie to you anymore, okay? Just… please."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

Five Years Ago…

It was dark when he heard Dean enter. He felt like he was in some sort of surreal daydream. Why couldn't Dean want something he didn't want to give him so badly? Then he could at least feel like he was being a good father… sacrificial and selfless. But instead… instead he felt like he was taking advantage of his boy. Again. Like his wanting Dean had somehow made Dean want him. He was about to say that maybe this was a bad idea when Dean tossed the keys on the table next to the door and turned to face him. The look on the boy's face froze the words in his mouth. Excited was the wrong word to use… but John could see how badly the boy wanted this. Just as badly as he did.

Dean crossed the room and stood close enough to him that John could feel the heat from his body. John didn't move. He needed Dean to make the first move… but his resolve wouldn't last long. Not with Dean standing this close and looking at him like that. Just when he thought he wouldn't be able to take it anymore, Dean slid his hands up his chest and cupped his face. The boy licked his lips and pulled John into a kiss.

Suddenly John couldn't remember why this was such a bad idea. The fact that he was kissing his son seemed almost insignificant next to the fact that he was kissing someone he loved. Dean opened up to him when he brushed his lower lip with his tongue and he swept it inside, tasting his boy.

John had only had sex with another man exactly once. A lifetime ago, in a forest in Nam. They were the only survivors in their section of the tree cover and they were… not celebrating exactly. Affirming was more like it. They were affirming that they were alive, that they could still feel something other than fear. It was sloppy and rough and not something he thought he'd ever be doing again. He didn't want it to be like that with Dean.

He pulled away and searched Dean's face for any hint of discomfort. "Come on, baby. Let's go to my room. I even changed the sheets for you."

Dean snorted softly and pressed his forehead against John's shoulder. "Ooo… I feel so special," Dean murmured against his neck.

"You are. You know that, right?" John asked, feeling oddly solemn. He expected to feel more dirty and less earnest and… nervous about all this. He felt like he was about to make a serious commitment. It unnerved him, but he couldn't walk away from this now no matter how much he knew he should.

Dean looked up at him with honest, open eyes. He'd always loved the color of his son's eyes. They were heartbreakingly beautiful. "Yeah. I always knew that, Dad."

"Need you to show me what to do. Don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't…" Dean pulled away and looked him in the eye. "I, uh, need to get somethin' from my room and I'll be right in."

John entered his room and couldn't figure out what to do with himself while he waited for Dean. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. He closed the door behind himself, carrying a small tube and a handful of condoms. John raised his eyebrow at that.

"Kind of ambitious, don't you think?"

"People who don't have goals never accomplish anything," the boy said, repeating one of John's favorite sayings.

John snorted and shook his head as he reached for the boy and pulled him into his arms. Dean was always using his own words against him. "Smart ass."

Dean kissed him. "'S my first time too, Dad. Never bottomed before. Only ever wanted to bottom for you."

The words hit him low in his gut. Dean had known it was him, or at least been hallucinating about him, that night. There was no doubt about that now. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Dean's. "Maybe you should top, then."

"You'd do that? Bottom for me?"

He opened his eyes to see Dean looking at him in wonder. "Yeah. I just wanna be with you. Don't matter how."

Dean's smile was slightly shy. "Maybe later. Tonight… every time I think about being with you, you top. I want that tonight."

"Whatever you want," John said, kissing his son. "However you want it."

"I'm gonna remind you that you said that later."

He chuckled. He didn't doubt those words would be used against him too. "There's somethin' I need to tell you first. I been harpin' on you bein' honest with me… I need to be honest with you."

Dean frowned at him. "Yeah?"

"That night… when you finally fell asleep after detoxin'. You didn't have a wet dream."

Dean smirked. "I know. Figured it out when you kissed me in the kitchen. I knew your lips, the feel of your hands," his voice was a rumbling purr.

"You knew? I practically molested you while you were hallucinating."

"Wasn't hallucinating. Just thought it was a dream when I woke up and you acted like nothin' happened. I wanted it… I was just too damn sleep deprived to remember that I wasn't supposed to ask for it. If anything, I molested you. You're the one that kept sayin' no." Dean kissed him softly. "But your dick was sayin' yes." Dean licked at his bottom lip.

"But-"

Dean put his fingers over John's mouth. "You talk too much sometimes, Dad." He pulled away and dropped the condoms and lube on the night stand. Then he began unbuttoning his shirt, his hot eyes on John the entire time. John started undressing too, his eyes greedily taking in every inch of skin Dean exposed.

They studied each other for several seconds after they were both naked. Dean was perfect, the downy blond hair covering his body almost invisible. His cock was half hard, bobbing up from a thatch of slightly darker hair. The boy moved closer and their cocks bumped against each other, bringing moans from them both, and they began to map each other's bodies with their fingers. Dean kissed his jaw, and then licked at it, before pressing more open mouthed kisses to his neck. John let out a strangled groan and pulled Dean's head back to take his mouth in a bruising kiss. Dean made a muffled noise against his lips and melted against him. Their groins pressed together and John palmed the boy's ass to bring them closer. He felt moisture from their precum smearing against his stomach.

Dean tore his lips away with a wet sucking sound and went to his knees. John realized what he was going to do an instant before calloused fingers closed around his dick and his legs nearly gave out. He barely regained enough composure to remain standing when the boy swallowed his dick whole.

"Shit… Dean…"

Dean moaned around his dick. If it hadn't been for the boy's firm grip around the base, he would have cum then and there. As it was, he was barely coherent as his son gave him the best blowjob he'd ever had. It wasn't long before John knew he couldn't take much more. He'd cum in the boy's mouth later, but not this time. He pulled him off his cock. The boy made a discontented noise and looked up at him. Fuck, he looked so damn debauched. Spit and precum dripping off his chin, lips swollen and wet, pupils blown wide, hair mussed.

John swore and pulled him to his feet so he could kiss him. He moaned at the taste of himself on Dean's mouth. He pushed Dean back, smirked down at the boy when he fell on the bed and then crawled in after him. He manhandled the boy into the position he wanted him in, spread out on the bed, and laid down next to him, wrapping his hand around the boy's hard cock.

It was odd, curling his fist around a cock that wasn't his. Odd but perfect. Everything about this, about Dean, was perfect. "Love the way your cock feels in my hand," he said as he gave it an experimental stroke.

Dean huffed out a breath. "Feels pretty good from my end too."

John watched Dean's face as he stroked him, learning from his reactions how he liked to be touched. He was entranced by how visceral the boy was. How he reacted without a shred of self-consciousness. He was beautiful like this.

"Dad… Dad, please. Need you inside."

"Okay, baby. Show me what to do."

Dean leaned over to retrieve the lube and handed it to John. "Use your fingers. One at a time."

John knelt between Dean's legs and flipped open the cap on the lube. He felt a slight sense of unreality. This couldn't actually be happening. He'd wake up tomorrow, hard and needing a cold shower, alone in his bed. But when he pressed a slick finger to Dean's hole, he couldn't imagine how it couldn't be real. His son moaned and pushed against the finger until it finally slid inside. Fuck, he was tight. John couldn't imagine how he was going to get his entire cock in there no matter how much lube he used. But it was that tightness, and the heat inside the boy's body, that made the idea of being inside him irresistible.

"More, Daddy," Dean gasped out once John's single finger was moving easily in and out of him. "'Nother finger. Got such nice big, strong hands. Always wanted your fingers in me like this."

Hearing the boy call him Daddy like that, while they were doing this, made him groan. That was a button he didn't even know was there. He pressed a second finger inside his son. He leaned forward and kissed the boy.

"Spread 'em… stretch me out." John did as Dean instructed. The boy hissed. "Fuuuck… yeah. Like that."

John had three fingers in his boy and was learning the virtues of the prostate gland when Dean picked up one of the condoms and ripped it open with his teeth.

"Now, Daddy… please. Gotta… gotta have you in me." The boy quickly rolled the condom on John's dick.

"Yeah," John breathed out, enjoying the feel of Dean's hands on him. When the boy was done, he shuffled forward and pressed the head of his cock against the boy's slick opening. It took all his self-control to go slowly, to use just enough force to give Dean time to adjust as he pressed inside. The boy was staring up at him, his mouth open in an 'o', not making a sound. He paused, afraid that he was hurting his boy. "You okay?"

Dean nodded frantically. "Don't… don't stop. Fuck, I'm good. Just keep… keep goin'." His voice sounded like ground glass.

John kept going until he was as deep as he could go. "Fuck… you feel so damn good, baby." He leaned forward and kissed his boy again. He felt Dean's legs wrap around his waist and before too long the boy was trying to fuck himself on his cock. He rocked his hips experimentally once, and then again. It wasn't long before he'd found a deep steady rhythm. Despite his efforts to go slowly, he was fucking into his son harder and faster until he was pounding into his boy. Dean was meeting each thrust, gripping John's shoulders tightly enough to leave bruises.

John was lost. Lost in Dean, in the way he felt, the way he smelled, the way he looked, the way he sounded. There was nothing in the whole world but this. His orgasm took him by surprise. It hit him like a freight train, curved his spine and locked his muscles. Once he could see and hear again, he was lying on top of Dean, who was panting like he'd run a five minute mile. He lifted himself up to make sure Dean had gotten off to and saw that he had. He barely had enough energy to turn over.

John pulled Dean into his arms and held him, kissed the boy's temple. This was the first time since Mary had died that he'd had sex with someone he loved this deeply and for some reason it didn't seem to matter nearly as much as it should have that it was his own son. Dean turned his face up and John kissed his lips. Dean opened up for it, let John explore with his tongue. The boy melted against him.

Dean kissed his jaw just beneath his ear. "You know, we're gonna be pretty damn gross in the mornin'."

John snorted softly. "Yeah. Still not gettin' up."