linda92595 (linda92595) wrote,

The Plague Pt 2 FRAO Dean/Sam, John/Bobby, a little bit Dean/John

The Plague Pt 2

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairings: Sam/Dean, and John/Bobby

Rating: FRAO

Warnings: AU, M-Preg (Sam, John). Hermaphrodite characters (Sam/John) Graphic Sex, het and slash, Wincest (Sam/Dean)

 My thanks to Sioux_Sioux for the lovely beta work on the story.


Summary:  In this world about 25% of all males are born hermaphrodites, although they function only as males. A demon creates a plague that kills most of the women of child bearing age, but one of the side effects is that the men who are born hermaphrodites catch the plague and become fully functional as females, without really changing their outward appearance.  In order to keep the population from dropping dangerously low the government decides that all the newly functional “breeders” must have a male partner and give birth to at least one child.


Motel Six….


Sam settled back against the headboard of one of the two queen-sized beds in the motel room. Nothing in that was remarkable; it was the same as hundreds of other times over the course of their lives. He yawned watching as Dean flicked through the channels on the TV. His brother passed over a History Channel show on the Salem witch trials and Sam held up a hand.


"Go back to that…”


Dean frowned.


"Dude, we know all we need to know about witches, they burn real good. End of story. I don't need a replay on it."


"I was just reading The Crucible, and this has the whole back story. You're not watching anything, gimme the remote."


"Jeeze, give it a rest, college boy," Dean snorted.


Sam launched himself off the bed and tackled his older brother. Dean grunted as the air was pushed out of his body by the weight of his younger brother slamming into his back. He slid over the smooth, worn surface of the comforter and banged up against the headboard with his head bent at a decidedly unpleasant angle.


"Get off!" he managed from under his brother's back. Spitting Dean dislodged Sam's

t-shirt from his mouth and dug his fingers into the younger man's ribs. Sam just lifted an eyebrow.


"Not ticklish, that would be Dad."


Sam managed to jerk the TV remote out of Dean's fist, and roll them over so that his legs were clamped around Dean's waist and his butt pushed against the side of his older brother's face.


"If you don't get off I'm gonna bite your ass. Try explaining that one to Dad."


Sam snorted.


"Oh yeah, it’s not like he'd think anything about it, except that you're more perverted than we previously thought."


Dean worked his fingers into the bulky muscle of Sam's thigh, pinching a big chunk between his thumb and forefinger. Sam cringed yelping. With a victorious grin Dean rolled them over and pinned Sam with one arm wrenched up behind his back. He leaned down to whisper into his brother's ear when a mellow, soft aroma hit him. It was far from unpleasant; sweet and light, almost like aftershave or cologne but Sam used neither.


Whatever the scent was it was definitely coming from Sam, and Dean felt a spike of heat twist into his belly and roll downward right to his dick. The scent seemed to promise sex, pleasure and fulfillment of the most basic masculine needs; Dean closed his eyes breathing in deeply. He pulled Sam close to him, his brother growled in confusion. Quickly Dean released Sam and scooted back against the headboard but the sweet scent reached him anyway leaving him shaking with arousal.  He gulped. Launching himself off the bed Dean stood in the center of the floor between the two beds shivering. Sam looked at him like he was crazy. But Dean didn't care.


"I'm going to go help Dad with the truck," Dean stammered.


Sam watched as his brother practically ran for the door.



"Goddammit," John hissed looking at the caved in section of the truck bed. "We're going to have to get this lined back up. The false bottom of the flatbed is visible. I think that one of the bolts has popped. Here, Dean, you lift the upper deck while I check the bolt on this end."


John shifted, still holding the upper part of the weapons box, waiting until Dean moved in behind him and grabbed the wall. Dean slid behind his father pushing up on the fake bottom of the flatbed so that John could shove the bolt back into place. John worked the flatbed back and forth, cussing and jerking the bottom of the weapons box so that the bolt holes lined up. His movements brought his body into contact with Dean and he grunted.


"Dad," Dean hissed shifting as John's hip impacted his groin.


John looked over his shoulder with a pissy expression on his face.  Dean rolled his eyes. Finally, John looked chastised.


"Sorry," he said.


Leaning in again John slid his hips back and braced his butt against Dean's side to gain more leverage. Dean's breath huffed out in a hot breeze against his father's neck. John chose to ignore his son's grumbled complaints.


Suddenly Dean gasped, his spine stiffening like ramrod. He noticed that same scent he’d smelt on Sammy this time coming off John in warm waves. He leaned in to give John more support as he wrestled with the truck bed but also to get another whiff. The scent was very much like the one he had noticed coming from Sammy in the room earlier but fuller, richer. The only difference Dean found was one was the lighter scent of rose buds compared to the richer aroma of the full grown blooms.  Closing his eyes Dean let his head drop until his chin was resting on John's shoulder. John grunted and tried to shrug him off.


"Dean," he hissed shaking his shoulders, but Dean merely inhaled that rich, warm scent.


Sammy had smelled fresh, new, just the faintest hint of aroma, leaving Dean with a tickling sensation in the pit of his stomach and a spike of arousal but the scent coming off of John was so much more provocative, hitting Dean in a more visceral way. If Sammy's scent had held an allusion of promised pleasure, John was ripe with it, ready to be split open and filled up.


And Dean’s dick was definitely taking notice; in fact it felt like he might actually poke the teeth apart on the zipper of his jeans from the inside. He shoved his face into the back of John's neck, and then flicked his tongue over the rough skin. John tried to turn but trapped between the truck and Dean's body he couldn't move.


"Dad," Dean hissed through clenched teeth. "Take the bed wall."


"What?" John snapped, "Just be still, I'm almost done."


"Goddammit, Dad," Dean almost shouted. "Take the fucking bed wall before I drop it on you."


John slipped his hands under Dean's and lifted. Dean quickly stepped away from his father, breath coming in short, harsh pants.  John fitted the two halves of the box together and whirled.


"What the hell is your problem? I almost had it," John shouted but he stilled, looking at Dean's washed-out face. "Are you okay?"


Raising a hand John pressed it against Dean's forehead unsure of what else to do.


"Are you getting sick, too?"


Furious with himself for being so weak Dean shoved his father's hand away from his face.


"No, I'm fine," he stammered, which really wasn't true Dean supposed. After all he had just gotten a raging hard-on from being pressed close against his own father.  "Look, Dad. I don't want you going anywhere alone. Something weird is going on with this plague thing, something that scares the crap out of me…"


John leaned back against the truck.


"Scares the crap out of you?  Dean, Sammy and I just almost died of some fucking demon induced plague and at the age of fifty-two I just had my first period, how do you think I feel?”


"No, its something else…Dad just don't go anywhere without me or Sammy okay? I mean when you were working on the truck, when I was standing behind you. Shit…"


"Just spit it out, Dean."


"When I was standing behind you just now, there's a scent or something that you're giving off."


The look on John's face might have made Dean laugh if he wasn't so freaked out about what had just happened. John glowered at his older son.


"Just what has this got to do with me not going out alone?"


Dean thrust both hands up in the air jerking his shoulders back.


"Look all I'm saying is that I don’t think you, or Sammy, should go out alone. I noticed the same scent on him too, in the hotel room. But damn, Dad, Sammy may have got me turned over and idling, but you got me going from zero to sixty, full throttle. God Dad, I got so hard a cat couldn’t scratch it."


"That's it…" John snapped.


Jumping forward he caught Dean unaware and got him in a head-lock. With his chin braced against his father's hip the scent hit Dean even stronger and he felt his mouth began to water. John crab-walked them both across the parking lot and kicked open the door to the room.


Sam dropped the remote, came up off the bed with a startled cry and scurried to his father's side, waving down at his brother.


"Dad, what the hell?"


"Your brother's insane," John said in a snotty tone of voice, "I'm just going to take care of it."


He hustled Dean through the room and into the bathroom. Shoving Dean into the shower John released his choke hold and turned on the cold water. Waving a finger in Dean's face he stepped back.


 "I told you no…not me. God, it’s bad enough that I asked you to do that with Sam, but not me ever. Do you understand?"


Sam shoved his way into the bathroom, taking in his Dad's pinched angry expression and Dean huddled under the rush of frigid water, shivering. He reached for the spigot to turn off the shower but John intercepted him.


"No, Sam…he… you don't understand. He… your brother… oh shit."


Wide-eyed Sam winced as Dean shivered under the stream of icy cold water. Sam gaped; usually it was him who rendered their father incoherent with rage.  The most Dean ever managed to get him was pissy. But whatever Dean had done had pushed John from pissy to psycho bitch in less than half an hour. Sam was impressed.




It was shortly after the incidents with Sam and his Dad at the hotel that Dean began to notice that other men were attracted to his father and brother as well. Dean felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach especially since both Sam and his Dad seemed totally oblivious to the attention they were receiving.


Dean figured that Mother Nature was playing one hell of a bad practical joke on these poor people who had spent all of their lives, up to this point in time, thinking that they were men. Now they were going to have to deal with the fact that they were not men. Yes they looked like men but they were essentially different, and it was becoming more and more apparent all the time.


Dean knew that both Sam and Dad had virtually ignored those parts of their bodies that weren’t strictly male. Except for one doctor’s appointment a year, and John was insistent on that, they pretended that those organs didn’t even exist. Now with the physical changes that the plague was having on them and on all hermaphrodites it was impossible for them to ignore them any longer. Something that Dean had been trying to stress to John and Sam, both, since they had gotten out of the hospital.


As it turned out Dean didn’t have to argue his point any longer. The three of them walked into the small tavern across the street from the hotel after dinner that night. The hunt for the werewolf was a bust, and John had half-heartedly told them that the thing had either gotten wind they were hunting it or possibly been a female and had died of the plague. In either case he had decided that they weren’t going to find it, and had started looking for a new job in another area.


Neither of the two younger men was in the frame of mind to argue with their father. They had been in this God Forsaken crappy little town for over a month now, through two full moons and had not turned up so much as a hair of the damn thing. It was time to move on.


As soon as they claimed a table, both John and Dean looked over the possibility of hustling a little pool and found it slim to none.  They ordered a round of beers and just sat watching the few men milling around the room. The two women waiting tables were over fifty but they were still female and men being men, attracting more attention than was warranted. Dean could tell that the men sitting in sullen silence were not happy with the companionship on offer. John shoved his chair back, and headed down the side hall toward the restroom.


Dean watched as one of the men at another table turned, his eyes following John’s every move. Although he had gotten used to the scent that both John and Sam seemed to constantly emit he could see that it had a noticeable effect on the other men around them. The tallest, and consequentially the largest, of the four men at the table made a crude remark about John behind his back. The kind he probably would have reserved for a woman a few months earlier.  Dean flinched when he took a good look at his father’s back. Both he and Sam had become accustomed to seeing their father in multiple layers of clothes, and a heavy jacket, during the cold weather. Now, dressed in only a t-shirt and jeans, Dean was extremely aware of just how slender John really was.


Either his father chose to ignore the guy or didn’t hear him but John didn’t react. Dean on the other hand was fuming. The guy made no attempt to hide the fact that he was staring at John when their father walked back to the table. He had just about made it past the four other men when the big guy reached out and grabbed John by the arm, pulling John down into his lap. He shoved his face into the curve of John’s neck breathing deeply.


 “Hey baby, you look great and all, but do you know what'd really look good on you? Me.”


John's face twisted into a sneer then, as he actually considered what the guy had just said, a smile. He choked back a laugh before finally let it out. He was laughing so hard that he couldn't catch his breath when Dean shoved an empty chair out of the way, and kicked the table over onto its side.  Beer fountained up into the air, and glass shattered sending the other men scrambling to get out of the way.


"Get your goddamn hands off my father," he said fisting the guy's jacket and jerking him to him half around in the chair.


John swayed dangerously and hiccupped into silence, grabbing the guy just to steady himself. The three other men moved around their vacated chairs and turned on Dean, one of them grabbing the back of the younger man's jacket.


Sam waded into the fray with a .38 hoisted to chest level.


"I wouldn't do that, friend."


The man shrugged offered his friend a half-hearted grin and raised his hands, backing away.


"Tom, let him go. A piece of ass ain't worth getting shot over."


Now John was pissed, he came up out of Tom's lap shoulders back, and spitting fire.


"Who are you calling a piece of ass?"


"Shut up, Dad," Dean snarled grabbing John's arm.


He jerked his father around and pulled him along, with Sammy covering them. When they cleared the bar door Dean tugged John forward until he was right in the older man's face.


“I told you not to go anywhere alone.”


Sam pulled at Dean's arm, but his brother shook him off.  Dean was past listening.


"Dad, I have been telling you and Sam for days now, that you have to be aware of what's going on, that you can't ignore it any more. If you just keep going on like everything is the same you're going to end up getting raped."


John tried to shake Dean's hands off, but Dean wasn't budging.


"Let go. I can take care of myself Dean. I've fought off things a lot tougher than a few obnoxious assholes. He'd have a hard time forcing anything on me…"


"You think so?"


Dean pushed John back against the wall, closing the space between them. John twisted his hand around Dean's forearm working the flesh in painful circles but Dean just grunted. He forced a knee between his father's legs and slid a hand up clutching at one of John's breasts through his t-shirt. John flinched as the small, firm mound was pinched under his son's fingers. He tried to jerk away but Dean was hard against him, unyielding and John swallowed, suddenly not so certain of himself.  Dean caught the flash of fear on his father's face before John managed to shut it down, and stepped back.


 "Dad, if I can do it, some stranger will have no trouble and no hesitation."


Sam brushed past his brother and slid beside John wrapping an arm over his shoulder.


"Dean that was bullshit. Stop being such a dick."


"Look Sammy, I'm just trying to teach you and Dad a lesson. Things are different now, you're both vulnerable, and you can't pretend that it can't happen, because it can."


"It always could, Dean. Even before all this there were men who just instantly knew. I've had a few guys get a little too friendly but I've been able to put them in their place. And even the one time a guy tried to force the issue, a couple of other guys pulled him off." John's chest heaved in a sigh. "I don't know, Sammy, maybe your brother is right. This plague thing has changed us. You and me, and other men, males like us. We need to be aware of how it's going to affect us."


Dean leaned back against the wall, frowning.


"Finally, Dad I'm sorry about…that, but you just weren't getting it. Until this thing settles down, until more of those younger girls who survived get old enough to be potential partners men are going to look for guys like you and Sam, and some of them won't care if you want it or not. As much as I hate to admit it women have been dealing with crap like that for years, now you guys are stuck with it."


They made the trip back to the motel room in silence. Dinner was consumed in the room, as they watched the news.  When they’d finished Dean and Sam cleared the pizza box and beer cans off the beds. A reporter was talking about the Increased Population Act which had a passed in Congress and stood a good chance of passing in the senate too. The scene cut to a demonstration outside the capital buildings, men and some old women who were protesting about what they called the reinstitution of slavery in America. They watched in grim silence.


While Sam finished showering John settled on the bed beside his older son.


“Dean this thing is all going to hell a lot quicker than I thought. I know that I’ve raised you to protect Sam and watch over him, and frankly I’ve always thought the two of you were a little too close.”


Dean winced.


“Dad, you don’t think. I mean we haven’t… you know.”


John shrugged and continued,


“Not yet, but you’ve thought about it some of those long, cold lonely nights. It’s my fault for keeping us so separate from anyone else. Now that can work to our advantage.”


Flushing Dean shrugged.


“Sometimes I’ve wondered, but hey almost all guys wonder what it’d be like with a guy like Sam or you. And I hate to say it Dad but when Sammy was gone. Hell, I even thought about it with you.” 


John looked appalled. Dean just shrugged again.


“We’re Winchesters Dad, like Sam says we’re not exactly the Brady Bunch.”


“Well, I’ve done some research and if you and Sammy do this, at least, the kid more than likely will be okay. We don’t have any major congenital defects in our family, unless you count a distinct lack of common sense.”


“What about you?”


“I don’t know; maybe pick up a guy in a bar?”


“God, Dad. No, there are all kinds of guys. Hey, maybe Pastor Jim?”


“He’s a preacher; pre-marital sex and an illegitimate kid are not really big in his favor.”


Dean frowned. “Caleb…”


“Hell no, I’m not that desperate. I’d rather go with a strange guy in a bar. Even by our standards Caleb is weird,” John snorted.


“What about the Roadhouse, is there anyone?”


“Ellen may have more balls than a lot of guys I know but last I heard she didn’t have a dick.”


“Dad, that’s not helping,” Dean snickered, “I know…”


“Don’t even say it!”


“Dad, desperate measures here. Just think about it.  I mean what happened between you and him anyway.”


“He got drunk and felt me up and I decked him.”


“He tried to shoot you because you hit him?” 


John shrugged, “Oh no; I had that coming.”


Dean nudged his father in the shoulder and John blushed. He looked away, and Dean whistled.


“I’ll be damned; you’re in love with him.”


“Dean,” John growled, “I haven’t felt anything for anybody since your mother.”


“Its okay, Dad.” Dean looked at his father. “Did you ever think that Bobby felt you up because he felt something for you, too?”


“What he felt was drunk and horny.”


“Hey, you can work with that.”


“Go to bed, Dean.”


“I’m just saying….”


“Go To Bed, Dean.”



Tags: fiction slash

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