Title: Paint it Black 9/9
Pairing: John/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1900
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: This has not been beta'd. If I made any really bad mistakes (or just did something that annoys you) let me know.

Epilogue

Six Months Later…

"Okay, buddy," Dean said, kneeling in front of his son, his hands on the boy's shoulders, "you got everything?" They were in the parking lot of Sam's apartment building. Even after all these years, it was still surreal for John to watch Dean with his own kid.

"Yes, Dad. How many times are ya gonna ask me that?"

"You're the one left your Mr. Beans in the back of the Impala last time and couldn't go to sleep."

Avery sighed. "Grampa, can you help me out here?"

John chuckled. "Don't look at me, kid. Bobby made us come all the way back to bring it to you so he could get some shut eye. So you got everything?"

The boy sighed and his shoulders sagged. "Yes," he said dramatically. "I have everything."

Dean ducked his head to catch the boy's eyes. "And you're gonna do everything Uncle Sam says, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. It would be nice for you to spend more time with your uncle, so be good so he won't, you know, refuse to let you come back." They'd already talked about what would happen to Avery if anything happened to them. Before Sam was back in their life, the choice had been for him to go to Pastor Jim. Now it was Sam. Sam was family and that mattered more than anything else. Everyone decided it would be best if Sam got to know Avery better, since there was a chance he might end up raising the kid.

"Uncle Sam likes me. He's the one asked me to come over when you guys go on a hunt."

"I know. But Sam has yet to get the full effect of a whole 'weekend with Avery'. Alone. With no back up."

Avery gave his father a smile that was a mirror image of the older man's. "I'm adorable, Dad. Anyone would be lucky to have me for a whole weekend."

John chuckled. That apple didn't fall far from the tree. Both Dean and Avery knew exactly how they looked and were shameless in their exploitation of it. They went up to the new apartment Sam shared with his girlfriend. Avery knocked on the door, his small hand barely making much noise. John was about to knock again, to make sure they were heard, when Sam opened the door. He looked excited, like he had been waiting by the door for them.

"Hey."

"Hi, Uncle Sam," Avery said as he walked right in without an invitation like he owned the place. "Hey, Jess," they heard him say from deeper inside.

Sam watched him walk past, looking amused. "You guys gonna stay a minute or you need to hit the road?"

"We gotta hit the road," John said, "but we'll stay a while when we come back to pick him up."

Jess appeared in the doorway, all smile as usual. "Hey guys."

"Hi Jess," John said. "Thanks for this."

"You know how much I love the kid," she said.

"You still with this looser?" Dean asked with a little smirk. Jess just rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Just make sure he doesn't wait 'til Sunday to do all his homework, and that you check it. His interpretation of directions has been really… creative lately."

Sam snorted. "Yeah. Okay. We wanted to take him to an amusement park. That okay?"

"Yeah. That's cool. Just make sure he doesn't overdo it on the sweets. There's some oranges and orange marmalade in his bag."

"It's orange? What happened to grape?"

"Same thing happened to peach, man. Kid's goin' through fruit like crazy."

"Okay. We'll be fine. I'll see you guys soon. Be careful."

"Always careful, Sammy. And thanks for this."

"Any time. You know that, right? That you can count on me? I mean… I don't wanna do what you do, but I'm not ever just gonna drop outta your lives again."

"Yeah, son," John said, patting Sam's jaw, "we know. We'll see you in a couple days. See you in a few, Jess."

"Course we know that, Sammy," Dean said as they turned away. "Call us if you have questions or need somethin'

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

It was a routine now, Dean thought as he unlocked their hotel room door. They were finished with a long, hard hunt and John would go take a shower and jack off while he was in there. Offer Dean this tantric form of torture when his was done with his own. It was basically a very long, involved hand job that was billed as a way to increase trust and had been recommended on some website as a way for the partners of men who'd been sexually abused to 'help the healing process.' John had said that if he wanted to cum from it, it was best if he came close and backed down at least six times during the massage. It was just a suggestion, but Dean took it as a challenge and insisted on John bringing him to the brink seven times and easing him back down before getting him off. And the orgasms had been mind-blowing. But getting there… getting there seemed to take freaking years. How John stood it, he still couldn't figure out. Not even the hand job in the shower beforehand should have been enough.

Maybe they were working, all those hand jobs from hell. Because he'd been half hard all day. It wasn't the first time that had happened. Even on his worst day, he found John unbearably sexy. But today was different. He'd fooled himself before into thinking he was ready for more than just those damn 'massages' and a little making out, and those times had ended in disaster. Once he'd actually thrown up. It wasn't even that he didn't want sex anymore. It was just… so intense with John, that it scared him now. That loss of control that had once been such a turn on, such a rush, was terrifying. He felt almost as helpless against how much he wanted John as he did against the drugs and Sugar and that damn chain smoking bastard with the two black eyes and swollen nose that had come after the dealer.

But today, he wasn't afraid. Well, he was… but not as much as he had been. It was like he woke up and it was dwarfed by the need to feel John against him and in him, to smell him and taste his skin. It made him itch and tingle. So when John came through the door behind him and closed it, he pushed the older, larger man against it. Buried his face in the crook of his neck.

"Why the fuck do you always have to smell so damn good?" he murmured against his father's neck.

John huffed out what Dean assumed was supposed to be a laugh. "You asked me that before."

"And you shoved me in a cold shower. Gonna do that again?"

"Not unless you want me to."

Dean tentatively licked at John's neck, smirked when the older man trembled. "Only if you've fallen desperately in love with your right hand and don't want anything to come between you." He started working on his father's belt, desperation making his hands clumsy. Why the fuck did they wear so damn much clothing?

"Fuck, Dean, baby boy… you're drivin' me… please…"

"Need you in me, Daddy. Need your thick, hard cock to fill me up. Been fuckin' drivin' me crazy all damn day." Dean huffed out a triumphant breath at getting John's belt and fly undone and manhandled his father into the nearest chair. "The way you bite your lip when you're tryin' to do somethin' just right," he said as he pulled off his jeans. Lube… they needed lube. Where the fuck… he grabbed his bag and upended it, dumped everything out. Found the bottle his father used for the massages. There was only a little left, but it was enough. He straddled his father's lap and began opening himself up.

"Shit, look at you," John drawled, look up at him under heavy lids. "So fuckin' sexy…"

Dean bit back a whimper and kissed his father. All teeth and tongue, all the passion that he'd been afraid to give into for so long. Too long. But John wasn't touching him. He realized that with a sudden flutter in his stomach. He pulled away, breathless. "Touch me?" he said, his uncertainty turning it into a question. What if John didn't want to touch him anymore?

Hands where on him almost before he finished asking. One cupping his ass, the other sliding up his torso, under his shirts. John was looking up at him with warm eyes the color of dark honey and filled with tenderness and a kind of nervous uncertainty that made Dean love him more, made him feel like he might burst with it. "Like this?"1

Dean could only nod. He worked frantically at stretching himself enough for John's initial entry to not really hurt. There was always some pain, but if he was careful it wouldn't feel anything like it had with Sugar. Finally he pulled his fingers free and slicked up John's cock. He began slowly lowering himself on it, but once he felt the head actually breach his opening, the idea of slow and careful went right out the window. He slammed himself down on his father's dick, head thrown back and roaring out his pleasure as he did. When he looked at John again, the man looked completely blissed out. Eyes open to slits, lips parted.

He gave himself a few seconds to adjust and then began rocking his hips, slowly increasing the speed and strength of the thrusts. His dick was bouncing against John's shirt, leaving smears of precum. But he needed his hands for balance and leverage… he couldn't spare one to touch himself. Just the dick up his ass would be enough to get him to the finish line, but damn he was aching to be touched.

He felt the backs of John's fingers on his hard, throbbing cock and almost came from that, his rhythm faltering. "This okay, baby?" his father asked, his voice deep and rumbling.

He nodded. "Please…"

"Yeah," his father said as his fingers closed around him. "I got you, baby boy. Daddy's got you."

It was a filthy to say, probably a filthy thing to get off on hearing, but John knew him well enough to apply a little pressure to the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm.

"You know," he said almost conversationally, his own voice deeper, "it turns me on to think about the fact that the cock that's in me right now, that I love to suck and fuck, is the one that made me."

"Oh, shit, Dean, baby…" John groaned and he felt liquid heat as his father orgasmed inside him.

John held him close for a second while Dean licked and bite at his neck, leaving a few strategically placed hickeys. Then he began jacking Dean off in earnest.

"Com' on baby, cum for Daddy." It wasn't long before he was coming helplessly in John's hand.

Dean wasn't stupid enough to think that this would solve all his problems, that all the effects of what Sugar had done to him were completely gone now. But it was a damn good start.