Disclaimer: Supernatural is obviously not mine.
Title: The Birds and the Bees
Word count: 1 575
Genre: Cracky comdey, with a little family sweetness.
Rating: Mild (VERY mild) PG for a couple bad words.
Pairings: This is hard… Uhh basically focused around Dean thinking of ‘other boys’.
Warnings: Uhh embarrassing father-son conversation.
Spoilers: None really, but if you haven’t seen the first ep, this kinda hints at mentions of it.
A/N: Okay! Well I just got this idea and had to write it out. Not wincest but does deal with boy loving, although there isn’t any exact pairings. Probably a little OOC.
Summary: Dean nods, finally starting to get what his father is saying. “So I’ll be able to make babies with other boys when I grow up?”
The birds and the Bees
Dean’s only 12 years old, which leaves Sam being a young age of 9. It’s only been a few years after his mother’s death and Dean can still see shadows of danger, lurking around ever dark and hidden corner. It’s dark outside and their hiding out in a cheap little motel just out of
“Dad?” Dean’s scared, he hasn’t seen his dad all night and honestly, the moment Sammy falls asleep and all is quiet, the screams of his fears horrify him. He heard a noise earlier that evening coming from his dad’s room so he figures that he could get his father to help him with his problem. This isn’t like his usual nightmares, no, he keeps those from John, not letting him know that he wakes up in a cold sweat each night after dreams of fire, screams and bright yellow eyes.
A muffled sound comes from his dad’s room and he enters it with a hesitant knock. Walking into the room, he takes in the sight of guns and knives, different symbols scribbled on post it notes and stuck to the wall in a hurried looking fashion. He’s always been fascinated with his father’s work. “Cool room Dad. What’s this symbol represent?”
John Winchester, looking tired and drained, yet still radiating masculinity looks up from his journal and blinks for a moment before smiling at his son and looking at the symbol that Dean points to. “That’s the sign of the Wendigo, Dean.”
“Cool.” Dean looks down at his hands which are clasped infront of himself and shuffles his feet, a blush tinting his features. “Um Dad?”
“Yes son?” John pushes his chair back and sits up a little straighter, his complete attention on his child. He takes in Dean’s uncomfortable manner and quirks a brow in amusement at the obvious act of trying to cover himself that Dean is putting on.
“I umm, I woke up and I-I was dreaming and there was uhh… There were other boys in it and we were-we were in the umm in the shower room and-and they- we were all naked and umm I woke up and I’ve got-got this…” Dean points down at the small little tent at his groin before tears start to pour from his eyes. He tries to stifle a sob, wanting to be a big man like his father but he can’t help it and more tears only seemed to fall from his eyes. “I can’t make it go away Dad, and it hurts. It really hurts dad.”
John’s eyebrows shoot up for a moment before a soft smile comes to his lips. “Come here Dean. I knew I’d have to have this conversation with you one day or another.” John sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face in both fatigue and amusement.
Dean slowly pads over to his dad, stopping to stand infront of him. He looks up with big, bright green eyes; misty with tears and insecurity. “Dad, why won’t it go away? It’s never-never been like this before.”
“It’s called an ‘erection’ son and it happens to boys your age around this time, although you seem a little bit early for it, not hat that’s a bad thing at all.” John starts, brown eyes boring into green, making sure that Dean’s taking in what he’s saying. Dean nods his expression the same as it always is whenever his father is speaking to him –intent and serious. Sighing, John goes on, “The dreams you have are called, ‘wet dreams’, son, and they occur when a boy your age begins to go into what adults call, ‘puberty.’ It’s a show of your attraction to either the opposite or your own sex.”
“Attraction to sex?” Dean quirks a brow at his father, giving him an, ‘are you stupid’ look.
John sighs. “It means that you like girls –or in your case boys, enough that it gives you an erection.”
“I don’t like this though dad, its all sticky feeling and its uncomfortable and it throbs and it’s a pain in the ass.” Dean says angrily, jutting his chin out in a gesture of defiance to what’s occurring in his body.
“Watch your language Dean.” John orders, and Dean’s eyes lower, a mumbled, “Sorry,” barely able to be heard. John sighs again and shakes his head, wishing he were more prepared for this conversation. “Dean, erections aren’t a bad thing. At your age they’re annoying and can really piss you off-”
John chuckles and puts his hands up in a defensive manner. “Right, right, sorry.” John clears his throat and continues on. “As I was saying, they can be annoying but when you get older, and to be around my age-”
“You’re not old Dad.”
John nods. “Alright, now, as I was saying, when you get to be around my age, an erection is when men want because it allows you to,” John coughs, a light blush appearing beneath his scruff and beard, “Allows you to be able to join with a person you love. Your mother and me needed one so that we could make you and Sammy, and you’ll need one day to make your own babies when you grow up.”
“So girls get them too?” Dean asks, his green eyes lighting up with curiousity.
John’s own eyes widen for a moment before he lets out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “No, they can’t Dean, only boys can. You’re to young for the specifics but to join or make love with a person you feel real strongly about and love, you need a, umm erection.”
Dean nods, finally starting to get what his father is saying. “So I’ll be able to make babies with other boys when I grow up?”
John’s eyes nearly bug out of his head at that statement and he coughs, trying to rid himself of his reddening neck and ears. “Uhh no Dean, it doesn’t work that way in gay—um in the situation of one boy being with another boy. Only a man and a woman can make a baby together.”
A defeated look passes over Dean’s face and he looks up with sad eyes at his father. “I don’t think I can be with a girl, Dad, I don’t like them in that way… Does this mean I’ll never be able to have a baby?”
John gives his son a sad look of his own and shakes his head. “Dean, you can always have a baby. There are other ways of getting one. You can always adopt –umm that means to-”
“I know what adoption is dad, I’m not stupid.” Dean says, giving his dad a precocious look.
John chuckles at that. “No, you most definitely aren’t. Now, about that,” John waves a hand infront of Dean’s pants and can’t help but smile at the blush that tints his son’s face. “There are ways of getting rid of it without being with a woman –or a man.”
“Well, sometimes if I touch it-”
“No!” John clears his throat, softening his tone, “No, umm don’t touch it Dean, just uhh, take a cold –very cold shower or pinch yourself really hard.”
Dean tilts his head to the side. “So I don’t touch it?”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Don’t you ever touch it? You don’t have a girl or boy to be with, so what do you do when you get one?”
John blushes furiously and coughs. “Dean, that’s not something we need to talk about right now. The important thing is that you understand what we talked about here tonight. Now, go take a cold shower and be quiet so you don’t wake Sammy up.”
Dean smiles and a blond lock of hair falls over his eyes, making him look all the more innocent and sweet. “Okay dad, I’ll be quiet and I promise not to touch it.”
John lets out a breath he doesn’t even know he was holding when Dean turns away and goes to leave the room. “Kids,” He mutters, shaking his head with a wry chuckle.
John looks up to see Dean standing at the door, a soft smile on his pretty lips. “What is it son?”
“I love you.”
Tears come to John’s eyes as he replies gruffly, “I love you too, Dean. Now go take a shower.”
Dean nods and opens the door before turning around one last time. “Dad?”
John lets out a sigh and turns an exasperated look on his son. “Dean.”
“Sorry, it’s just that-I well… I’m allowed to let someone else touch it right? When I find someone to love as much as you love Mom? You let her touch it right?”
“Get to bed son.”
Dean turns on his heels, giggling at the embarrassed growl he received from his father.
“Fuck.” John’s head hits his desk and he groans. He rolls his head and lifts his head at the sight of blond hair and bright smiles. Smiling softly at the family picture, the frame made of cardboard and macaroni –compliments of a three year old Dean, he touches his wife’s face through the glass. “You sure left me with a handful Mary. Try to hit me with a bolt of lightning or something when Sammy has the same questions to ask.”