Never Letting Go by tifaching for <user site="livejournal.com"

[springflingmod.livejournal.com]

Title: Never Letting Go
Pairing: John/Dean
Rating: NC/17
Warnings: Parent/Child incest, Show level of violence, Mention of underage sex.


John hates hot weather. Giving the matter some thought, he decides, too late, that hunting in the sticky sweat bath of a southern Louisiana July might have been a miscalculation. Summers in Kansas were worse temperature wise but the thick, humid air has him just about ready to ditch the hunt, toss the kids in the car and head for the North Pole.

Sighing, he reaches down to pull a beer from the cooler near his feet. There are only two left, floating in a few inches of water and that doesn’t improve his mood any. He glances up to check on Dean, who is courting heat stroke by washing the Impala. The air shimmers to form mirages as it rises from the blistering asphalt of the motel parking lot.

“Hey,” he calls out, as Dean sluices the last of the road mud off the gleaming black surface. “Finish up there. We’ve got to pick up your brother in a few minutes.” Dean gives a half hearted wave his father’s way and dumps one final bucket of water across the Impala’s trunk. He’s flushed with exertion, Metallica t-shirt sweat soaked across his shoulders and ragged cut offs hanging loosely from narrow hips. “And finish your water.”

Dean glances at the half empty bottle at his feet and grimaces as he picks it up. The water’s got to be warm but he tilts his head back and drinks, throat working as the tepid liquid flows down it.

“Whoo! Now that’s what I like.”

John whips his head around to stare down the concrete walkway at two men slouched against the wall outside the door to their room. One’s tall and one’s short and both wear leather vests open over bare chests. “You got something to say?” he asks.

“No offense meant, friend.” The tall man smiled, tongue poking through a gap between his front teeth. “Just always do like a boy that does as he’s told.”

“Specially one as good looking as yours,” the other man added, one bony hand slithering down to cup his crotch. “Hey, pretty, want to wrap those lips around something more tasty than that bottle?”

“Get inside.” John keeps Dean in his peripheral vision. The men inch closer but Dean doesn’t move, plastic water bottle crumpling in his hand.

“Go, I said.” Dean moves automatically at his father’s tone, eyes wide and dark as he passes behind him and into the room.

“You hit that yet?” Gap tooth grins as John takes a step toward him. “Bet he hasn’t, Lloyd. Man doesn’t know what he’s got there.”

“I don’t know, Troup. Them bandy little legs look like they’ve spent a good bit of time wrapped around something.” Lloyd shakes greasy hair out of his face.

“He’s fourteen,” John says, moving to block their way. “And he’s my son.”

“Never made much difference to my daddy,” Troup says. “And fourteen’s a geat age. I’m a big fan, actually. I’ve found that year to be a very fine vintage. Now you can be sensible and let us have him for the night and no one gets hurt.” He pulls back his vest to reveal a holster occupied by a serious looking gun. “Or, we can take him and everybody gets hurt.”

“Look,” John raises his hands slightly and casts a nervous glance around the parking lot. “I’ve got some money. Let me just give it to you and…and we’ll be out of here.”

“Sure,” Lloyd says, drawing the word out. “We like money.” He holds out his hand. “You can give it to me right now.”

“Not out here,” John says flicking his glance behind the two men. Troup gestures at John’s door. “And not in there either.” He looks down and lets his shoulders drop. “How about your room.”

Troup grins and step aside. “Sure thing, Daddy. Let’s head inside and talk some business.” He’s still grinning when the door thuds closed behind them.

*

John emerges five minutes later, wiping his face with a bath towel and carrying a duffle bag. He hangs the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and raps three long, two short knocks at his own unit. Dean opens the door immediately, hiding the pump action shotgun behind it as it swings open.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling the bloody towel off John’s shoulder.

“None of it’s mine.” John opens the duffle and Dean lets out a low whistle at the bundle of cash inside.

“Drugs?”

“Sure looks that way.”

“Are they…?”

“Oh, yeah. I left them in a very compromising position and wrote ‘we like to rape fourteen year old kids’ on the mirror.”

“How did you know…?”

John just grins.

“You told them I was fourteen? Jesus Christ, Dad!”

“Telling them the truth wouldn’t have gotten them so hot and bothered.”

“I’m eighteen,” Dean mutters with a scowl. Then his lips twist and he raises an eyebrow at this father. “They were hot and bothered?”

“Oh, yeah.” John’s expression mirrors his son’s. “They could only keep half of whatever mind they had on poor helpless dad.”

“How about you?” Dean looks up through his lashes.

“Oh, I’m hot.” John wipes sweat from his forehead and pushes Dean against the wall. The smile is gone from his face. “And bothered.”

“Dad?”

“I told you to go inside.” John grips Dean’s wrists in one hand and holds them over his head.

“I am inside.”

“I had to tell you twice.”

Dean’s eyes drop and he sags a little in his father’s hold. “I wanted to help.”

John relents, bringing his free hand up to trace Dean’s plump lips. Dean’s lips open slightly as he tilts his head up and John drops down for a kiss. “Oh, sweetheart, you did help.” He goes in for another kiss but Dean wriggles out of his grasp.

“Dad, didn’t you say we have to go pick up Sammy?”

John shoots a quick glance at the clock. “Library doesn’t close for another hour. If we drag him out of that nice cool air conditioned building early we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Then why did you say we did?”

“Because I figured those assholes got their fill.”

“Of what?”

“Of looking.” John holds Dean’s gaze.

“At what’s yours?” Dean’s voice goes up a hair at the end, making it a question.

“At what’s mine.” John’s tone leaves no doubt. “Come on, let’s get out of these clothes and into a shower. I think we broke the world record for sweating today.”

Dean groans. “As long as it’s a cold shower.”

“Kind of defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?” John’s hand slides down to palm Dean’s erection.

“Uh, yeah. How about luke warm?” Dean peels out of his t-shirt and drops his cut offs to the floor. John takes a bit longer to lose his boots and Jeans. He does not do shorts.

*

The shower’s not refreshing at all, but Dean all slippery wet and pliant more than makes up for the fact. When they’re both soaped and rinsed John presses Dean’s hips against the shower tiles and gets slowly to his knees in front of him.

“Dad,” Dean whispers. “You don’t have to.”

John ignores him, slowly lapping at Dean’s cock, up the shaft, over the head and back down again. Dean’s panting roughly and banging his head softly against the wall when his father takes as much of his length in as he can. John’s careful but they’re both so new at this. Since Dean turned eighteen John’s gotten him off with his hand and his cock but never with his mouth. Fortunately he doesn’t need to be the world’s best cocksucker to get his boy off. Dean’s hips buck up and John fights not to spit out the come that flows into his mouth. He manages to swallow most of it but some dribbles out and Dean grins as John clambers back to his feet.

“Not bad for a first time,” John says. “I bet a dozen girls have given you better, though.”

Dean pulls John’s head forward and licks his face clean. “It was fantastic,” he says, eyes speaking the truth more loudly than his words ever manage.

John grips Dean’s arm, keeping him upright as he tries to drop to his knees. “Like this,” he murmurs, folding Dean’s hand in his own and then wrapping both around his cock. He kisses Dean as the water falls gently around them, groaning as the slip and tug of their hands hits all the right spots. He lasts longer than Dean, unwilling to let the feeling go but sooner than he’d like he’s spilling over their joined grasp. Dean works him through his release, far more practiced with his hand from years of experimentation than either of them are with their mouths. Doesn’t really matter either way, John thinks. Neither one of them is planning on ending this any time soon so they’ll get plenty of time to perfect their technique.

“It was okay?” Dean says, looking up hesitantly.

“Better than okay.” John lets the truth out in his voice. He was never good at lying to Dean any way. Dean’s smile is like the sun coming out.

*

“Do you think I’ll ever…” Dean pauses in the middle of tossing Sam’s clothes into a duffle. John already called Bobby to send someone else to finish the hunt in this steambath. They were getting the hell out of Dodge before the maids got curious about the Do Not Disturb sign.

“What?”

“I don’t know. Look my age.”

John starts to laugh but swallows it when he sees that Dean is serious. “Of course. It’s going to take some weathering for that face to look older but it’ll happen.”

“Does it bother you that I look so young? Because,” Dean pauses and swallows. “You could have had me when I was fourteen, you know.”

John does. He’d kicked Dean’s butt out of his bed a hundred times in the last three years. Kid got an idea in his head and was nothing if not persistent. Still, he thinks to himself, he might be the world’s worst father but at least he’s not a child molester. “Had to wait until that ass was legal, kiddo.”

Dean just raises an eyebrow.

“Ish,” John amends. “Legal-ish.”

“And when I do finally look older you won’t…” Dean cuts himself off and looks at the floor.

“Son, you’ll always be you. You’ll always look like you. That’s all I need.” Dean doesn’t look convinced. “Those assholes out there asked me if I knew what I had in you. Well I do, Dean. Trust me, I do.

“Something that’s yours?”

“Yes. But so much more than that too.”

Dean nods and heads for the door. “Let’s get going. If we’re late Sammy’s going to wonder what we’ve been up to.”

John grunts as he finishes stowing the weapons. Another problem to deal with. Sam would definitely not approve. Not that John blames him. It’s wrong what he’s doing with Dean. Wrong to the millionth degree. But John let it start and he’s not going to end it now. Because it would break his son. And because he does know what he has in Dean. Something that’s his. And he’s never letting that go.