The day went quietly; they kept a low profile hanging out at the house. John helped Bobby work on a couple of cars in the garage and Sam and Dean worked on their Dad’s truck, getting the last of the body work done and touching up the paint. It was all so normal that it felt surreal to Sam.
He and Dean finally got bored enough to think about taking a trip into town so after lunch they borrowed the key’s to John’s truck, in exchange for gassing it up and headed out to greater metropolitan Durham. Dean laughed hysterically when they reached the downtown area and Sam saw the simple two lane intersection dotted with small shops and the City hall building.
They didn’t even bother stopping but hit the interstate to
Bobby watched the truck disappear down the road and threw the rag he was using to wipe his hands on over the hood of the car they were working on. He hated re-building a carburetor. John had a long streak of grease on his face across his nose and down one cheek. Bobby snickered and took a swipe at it with the rag. John just shrugged.
“It’s just gonna get dirty again anyway, might as well just not worry about it.”
Leaning over Bobby kissed him on the cheek then grasped John’s chin and kissed him on the lips.
“Hey, with the boys out of the way why don’t we make good use of our free time?”
John grinned at him.
“You know for a man your age you’re pretty perky.”
“Perky, ain’t nobody ever called me perky before Johnny-boy.”
“I’ve been spending too much time with Sam. So what’d you have in mind? The front porch?” John asked.
“Naw, old lady Henderson would probably call the cops. She was giving me the evil eye this morning already. I told you the neighbors heard you last night.”
Sliding his hand into the small of John’s back Bobby propelled him toward the Impala. John came to a sudden halt. He flicked a quick glance at the older man.
“Dean’s car? He’ll kill us if he ever finds out. Aw, what the hell. Did you know Dean was actually conceived in that old Impala?”
“Well, there you are. Let’s get another generation of Winchesters cookin’ in the thing.”
John pulled the rear passenger side door open, and glanced down at the worn leather seat. Bobby stood behind him giving John a few minutes alone with his thoughts. John smiled at Bobby and turned around.
“Singer…” John said.
“Yeah,” Bobby replied.
John whacked him on the arm and Bobby just grinned.
“No, I meant that a kid ought to have it’s Daddy’s name, unless you don’t want to.”
“It’s my kid, John, same as yours.”
Bobby pressed in close behind John rubbing his stubbled chin over the rough skin on the younger man’s neck. John winced. He turned around, backing up until his knees hit the edge of the seat. Before Bobby could say anything he found himself being pulled down into the car.
They were still laying in the backseat when they heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires. Bobby reared up looking over the seat as the truck swung around the bend in the driveway. He scrambled to get his shirt buttoned and yanked his jeans up. John had it worst, trying to hurriedly wrestle his jeans back on and find his t-shirt in the foot well of the backseat. He shoved Bobby over and jerked his pants over both feet at the same time, his knee contacting solidly with the seatback. Hissing out a curse he managed to get his jeans zipped and push the other man off him enough to slip the t-shirt on. He slumped down in the seat and got his boots on and tied. Bobby tumbled out of the door with his shirt hanging crookedly, John sliding out of the car behind him. Slamming the door they trotted across the yard and settled on the porch waiting for the boys. John grimaced at Bobby’s uneven shirt.
“So, did you get whatever it was you were looking for?” John asked.
Dean just shrugged.
“Yeah, Sam dragged me to the bookstore, as usual.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to read something once in a while,” John offered.
Dean flipped the mismatched buttons on the front of Bobby’s shirt and smiled.
“So you and Bobby were really pouring over the books while we were gone, eh Dad?”
Bobby chose to ignore him and smacked Dean’s hand away.
“Let’s get cleaned up and get out on the town tonight, maybe that new place on the freeway. I’ve been meaning to get over there and never had the chance.”
Bobby stood in the doorway of the bedroom watching as John finished dressing. He smiled as he took in the long, lean body dressed in tight jeans and a black t-shirt. John was sexy as hell and Bobby had always thought so, even before this plague business. Now, his body still thrumming with unspent energy, he couldn't wait to get out and show off what was his. When he looked up again John was standing facing him, a half-smile gracing his lips.
"What are you looking at?" he asked gruffly.
Bobby reached out and grabbed John by the hips pulling him forward until the younger man was pressed against his chest.
"You! Damn but you're one good looking guy, Johnny-boy."
Blushing, John shoved him away.
"Is that why you're staring at me?"
"Naw, I was staring 'cause I was seriously thinking about taking you to bed and banging you again."
"Goddamn, Bobby, I can't walk straight as it is," John said, smiling as Sam appeared in the hallway still pulling on a shirt.
"Guys, come on. I don't want to hear about old people sex. It's too gross."
"Who are you calling old?" Bobby and John chorused together.
Dean sauntered out of the bathroom rubbing a towel over his hair, shirt hanging open over a white t-shirt. Bobby flipped the corner of his shirt up and Dean smiled.
"It's not that you're old, per se, just over the hill."
Grinning Dean flicked a hand toward Sam.
"I mean this baby-making stuff, it's a young man's business, Bobby. I just don't want you and Dad to be too disappointed when me and Sam are waiting for the stork to arrive and you two are left empty-handed."
Bobby narrowed his eyes.
"Young man's business, huh? Well kid, you want to put your money where your mouth is? I'll bet you John is pregnant long before Sam is."
John and Sam looked at each other.
"Hey, don't we have anything to say about this?" John asked, annoyed.
Dean glared up at Sam and Bobby just shrugged.
"Hell Johnny, as many times as I've gone at you the past couple days and without a rubber in sight. You've probably already got a bun in the oven."
Sam and Dean both cringed.
"See now that's just way too much information," Dean said with a sigh.
Narrowing his eyes Dean sidled up beside the older man and clapped Bobby on the shoulder.
"About that bet, what about you putting up or shutting up, old man. Name the price, 'cause I say Sammy is knocked up way before Dad."