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Title: You Were Always My Favorite
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Bobby, implied Dean/OMCs
Warnings: Underage!Dean, dubcon
Summary: John gets in a mess, Dean helps him out.
Written for the Blindfold prompt: Dean shows Bobby how grateful he is...


It's more Dad's idea than Dean's, but with a little persuasion Dean decides he doesn't really mind. Maybe he even likes the idea a little. After all, Uncle Bobby's pretty cool. He lets Dean work on cars with him, keeps Sam busy and out of trouble, and he's helped Dad more times than Dean can count.  Of course, Dad's also pissed him off more times than Dean can count--which is how they ended up in this particular situation.

Dean takes a deep breath and knocks on Uncle Bobby's bedroom door, inexplicably nervous this time around.  He <i>is</i> grateful to Uncle Bobby, and like Dad said, it's not like he hasn't done this before. At least Dean's pretty sure Uncle Bobby won't hurt him, unlike some of Dad's other 'friends', and he knows Uncle Bobby showered tonight because he heard him. Still, he's fidgeting with the condom and lube in his pocket when the door opens.

It's not hard to get in the room. <i>I'm worried about Sammy,</i> is all it takes, even though Uncle Bobby's clearly uncomfortable. He can't seem to meet Dean's eyes for more than a second or two, more interested in the thin line of skin where Dean's tshirt rides up, and the swell of Dean's ass in the worn, too tight jeans he wearing. Dean knows what to look for, and it's pretty clear Uncle Bobby wants what Dean's offering.

Still, he makes Dean work for it. It takes nearly 20 minutes of posing and biting his lip, and shy glances from under long eyelashes before Dean feels reasonably certain that his <i>Sometimes I want things, Uncle Bobby, I can't help it,</i> will get him what he wants. Uncle Bobby kisses him back tentatively at first, then with more enthusiasm, fingers restless in Dean's short hair, thumbs stroking across his cheekbones as he grows bolder.

After that it's pretty predictable and Dean can finally relax into autopilot. Uncle Bobby sort of groans his name as Dean slides off the bed to kneel between his legs, and Dean gets a gratifying gasp as he rubs his cheek against the outline of Uncle Bobby's cock where it's turning his sleep pants wet and sticky. A shaky hand falls heavy on the back of his head, pushing him forward, and Dean goes willingly.  The head of Uncle Bobby's cock is right there, red and leaking, and Dean sucks it in, rolling it between his lips and tongue as he looks up through his eyelashes to gauge his handiwork.

Uncle Bobby is staring down at him with a familiar look of lust and faint horror. Lust is definitely winning, though, so Dean <i>mmmmm's</i> softly and pulls Uncle Bobby's sleep pants and boxers out of the way out and swallows him down in one quick move.  Uncle Bobby cries out sharply, hand clenching tight on the back of Dean's head, and this time Dean's moan isn't entirely faked--he actually does kinda like this part. Gets off a little on being able to reduce a grown man to quivering jelly with a nothing but his hands and lips.

It's pretty clear Uncle Bobby isn't going to last long. He's gasping and moaning, hips thrusting erratically against Dean's face, and Dean's hardly having to do any work at all. Just lets that heavy hand hold him still and covers his teeth, rubs his tongue along the underside when he can and swallows the bitter, salty precome that keeps pooling in the back of his mouth. At this rate, he'll be back in his own bed before Sammy even knows he's gone.

Dean remembers, almost too late, that he's supposed to be enjoying this too.  He fumbles get his jeans open and slides a hand inside--too hard to get them down at this angle. He mostly ready when Uncle Bobby lets loose, moaning Dean's name and shoving in hard as he comes in a bitter gush deep in Dean's throat. He holds Dean there for a trembling moment and Dean sucks him through the aftershocks before straightening up with a needy, pleading sound. He makes sure Uncle Bobby can see that he's hard as he kisses him and grinds against his thigh a little desperately-- it's been a couple of days since he came, might as well take what he can get.

Uncle Bobby seems a little dazed but he gets the idea pretty quickly, helps Dean get his jeans down and his cock out, jerks him with rough, uneven strokes that border on painful. Dean takes over subtly, arching against him and guiding his hand into a sweet steady rhythm that's gonna get him off in about two minutes, no use drawing it out. He's surprised when Uncle Bobby kisses him again and then bites down on his shoulder--quick thrill of pleasure/pain that makes him buck and shout against Uncle Bobby's skinny chest as he comes like a shot.

They lie there tangled together for a few minutes, hearts and breath gradually slowing. This is Dean's least favorite part--the stammered apologies and disgusted looks, the self-recrimination that somehow still always manages to blame Dean more than anyone else. He rolls off the bed before Uncle Bobby can push him away and tucks himself back into his jeans--never even needed the lube and condoms, though he supposes he might tomorrow night--and kisses Uncle Bobby gently.

"Better get back to my room," he whispers. "See you tomorrow night?" He hears Uncle Bobby stammer something garbled as he slips out the door but he doesn't stop or turn around. He's pretty sure it's nothing he wants to hear.

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