Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/8701120. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Supernatural Relationship: Dean_Winchester/Other(s) Character: Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester, Bobby_Singer Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Drabble Collections: Sinful_Desire Stats: Published: 2007-11-01 Words: 1016 ****** Learned Behaviour ****** by MajorBrat [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist] Summary Written for a drabble challenge Notes Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at Sinful-Desire.org. To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on Sinful_Desire_collection_profile. It wasn’t something that was supposed to happen. It just kind of did that one time. Not that Dean couldn’t deny the fact that he had wanted it, because he damn sure had.   Sam had left them, taken off for Stanford. John had tore off in his truck, telling Dean he’d contact him in a few days. Dean was pretty damn sure that meant he was going on a bender over the fact that Sam had disobeyed his biggest and most important rule… you don’t leave your family behind.   Completely alone and unable to deal with the pain, Dean ran to Bobby’s house. It was the one place where he’d never really felt out of his depth when they’d had to stay with friends of his father’s.   Bobby had taken him in without a word, having already talked to John the night before. Seems Johnny had had a feeling that Dean would show up out there. When it came to Dean’s behaviour, he was hardly ever wrong.   Dean hadn’t moved from the swing on the back porch, just sat staring off into the gleaming metal of the junkyard for hours until he felt as if his eyes would suddenly burst from all the glaring sunlight. He couldn’t bring himself to move, to even care really. By way of explanation at showing up at Bobby’s door, he’d simply stated “Sam’s gone to college. Dad took off.”   Bobby had merely nodded his head and opened the door wider so Dean could get inside.   Now, as he sat trying to force himself not to think about the double betrayal his family had done to him, he felt Bobby watching him from door. He turned his head and gave a small smile when the man handed him a brown bottle covered in cold droplets of water. They sat drinking in silence, watching as the sun slipped down from its place in the sky.   The darkness was always the place for hidden secrets and dark confessions. So as the shadows of night began to hide the shapes and colours of the daytime world, Dean leaned his head over and onto Bobby’s shoulder where the man sat comfortably next to him on the swing.   “I’m always the one left behind,” he whispered, his voice breaking a little bit as he said it.   Bobby’s hand came up running fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Dean’s neck like he use to do when Dean had nightmares as a child. “I don’t know what ta tell ya, Dean-o. I think it’s good that Sammy went. He’s a smart kid.”   Dean pulled away. “How am I gonna take care of him?”   “He’s gotta learn to rely on himself at some point. Your daddy and him, they said some hurtful things to each other. Give ‘em both time to cool down. You Winchesters are a force to be reckoned with. I think with a little time apart, ya’ll find a way back together. You need to learn that you can’t shoulder the burden of all of it, Dean-o. No one person can.” Bobby reached up and tugged the brim of his hat down.   Dean turned to look at the older man, catching just a bit of Bobby’s face in the cold moonlight. “You haven’t called me that since I was sixteen.”   Bobby snorted. “You told me to stop. So I did.”   “You stopped touching me, too. Wouldn’t go near me if I was bleeding or hurt, had Sam patch me up or Dad if he was able. Why?” Bobby started to stand up but Dean reached out and grabbed at his jacket. “You were the first one to leave. You may have still been here but you really weren’t, not when you were around me.”   Bobby spun around to look at Dean. “Damn it, Dean, you know why!”   “Can’t help that you caught me with him. I saw it all plain as day, Bobby. The look of disgust on your face but I wanted it from him. I asked him for it.”   “He was your father, Dean.”   “And he was your fuck buddy when it suited him. That’s not what stopped you, though. You wanted me. I saw it in your face, Bobby. You stood there watching as he fucked me and you liked it.” Dean grinned evilly, standing up and keeping his grip on Bobby’s jacket. He pressed himself closer, chuckled under his breath. “And from what I’m feeling you still want it.”   Dean dropped to his knees, hands scrabbling at Bobby’s button and fly but he met with no physical resistance just Bobby’s whispered “Dean, don’t.”   He took him deep, swirled his tongue around the head when he pulled back. He used every trick he knew until Bobby’s hands came up to cradle his head, hips thrusting his cock deeper and harder into Dean’s mouth. Dean hummed, shoved a hand down the front of his own jeans as he started jacking himself in time with Bobby’s thrusts. He pulled back for a minute, licking a stripe up the underside of Bobby’s dick. “Pretend your him, Bobby. Or pretend I’m him if that’s what you need.” He closed his mouth back over the head and started bobbing with a ferocity.   “Fuck, Dean!” Bobby’s voice broke on the name, the images of what Dean had said flittering through his brain and forcing the orgasm out of him. He felt as if he shattered apart then, falling back against the railing of the porch, hearing Dean’s own groans of orgasm as he suckled at the softening cock in his mouth.   Bobby didn’t remember being cleaned up and tucked back in. All he could remember was the smell of Dean’s spent release and his own in the air. Watched as Dean, reached over and picked up the two empty bottles and turned to go back in the house.   “Thanks, Bobby,” was all he said. And didn’t that just fuck with your head.   He was a friend of the Winchesters, but he’d never claimed that he actually knew them. Because deep down he realized he never would. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!