Chapter Text
Bobby was like a dad to the Winchester boys, probably even more of a dad to them than their father ever was. He raised them as his own and knew those kids inside and out. They told him things they’d never let another human soul hear, and when they didn’t talk, Bobby still listened. Sometimes they’d come to him and not say a word, and Bobby sat with them until their voices came back. With a certain look pointed his way, he knew what they needed (whether it be what they wanted or not) and would drop hell and earth to give it to them. Sam and Dean felt like sons to him, so of course he knew them best. And Bobby knew something was going on with Dean.
He’d sometimes catch Dean with some teenage boys and looking at them the way he did girls, acting just a bit different around some kids than others. It wasn’t a new thing, Dean looking both ways when it came to kids his age. It’s not like he didn’t see him standing closer to the certain guys on the football team, or knocking shoulders with the one boy on the debate team, but he kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t any of his business so he stayed out of it.
Except for one day, when Bobby is playing with Sam in the park, and he sees Dean next to the park benches in the trees, sitting next to the blondie kid Aiden he heard about from their school for the next two weeks. Dean didn’t make many friends while on the road, so Bobby was happy he found someone to get along with, despite his suspicions of something more. Now, he could just see their faces were mushed up against each other’s, Dean grabbing a hold of his chin as their lips smacked. It all clicked in his head and suddenly it all made sense.
Usually Bobby doesn’t mind any of that stuff, and there was no need to yack about it with Dean. He didn’t want to know about his mooey gooey love life.But Bobby noticed Dean’s brooding, reckless, self hating attitude lately, and he always acts like that after he walks away from the boys on the courtyard. Bobby knows a thing or two about hating your own guts and everything around you, and he knows going down that road for too long will just lead to insanity.
He couldn’t let Dean do that to himself anymore.
“What is it, Bobby?” Sam asks as his baseball mitt droops in his hand, looking back to whatever Bobby was staring at.
“Nothing, boy. Just dozin’ off like an old fart.” Bobby turned Sammy’s attention to him before he could get Dean in his view, making him laugh and forget that he even asked a question. On days like this, he’s pretty easy going, almost a kid like he’s s’posed to be. It made Bobby smile whenever those kids could catch a break. No matter how many times John would chew him out and lash out at him for it, it was worth it every time. So, training be damned, they played in the park until sunset.
As Bobby loaded Sammy into the backseat, he called Dean over from the bench where he was now sitting and laughing with Aiden to mosey on over to the truck, noting that when Dean was walking back, a blush rose on his face for the smallest second as he looked at the boy on the hidden bench.
“Who was that kid over there?” Bobby glanced at Dean as he pulled onto the road. Without looking at him, Bobby could see his skin crawl on his body at the question. “Just a guy I know from school.” He says, his voice harsh and snapping.
He leaves it alone until he drops them off back at the hotel, where a note haphazardly taped to the fridge read “Be out for a couple more days. Lock the doors, watch your brother -John”
Sammy fell asleep pretty quick after they got to the motel, being tuckered out from “combat training” (which meant taking the boys out for lunch and milkshakes and playing in the park). It was just Dean and Bobby in the main room watching cable with a gallon of off-brand cola and chips.
Bobby noted that he should bring the kids some groceries tomorrow.
“So, who was that kid at the park bench?” Bobby didn’t take his eyes off the screen as Dean stiffened next to him.
“I said it was no one.” His tone was as sharp as a razor, but Bobby could tell he was nervous. He’s gonna find out, he knows already. God, I fucked it up. I fucked it up.
“You sure about that, boy?” Turning to him, Bobby raised his eyebrows.
“What the hell do you want from me? I don’t even know the guy.” He took a sip from the liter of soda, wishing it was some whiskey to calm himself the hell down. Bobby is gonna find out, he knows it, and he can’t get him off his trail.
“Well, that’s a bullshit story.” Dean was about to snap back, but Bobby froze him. “I saw you snookin’ with that kid in the park.”
And right then, Dean thought he exploded. He gets defensive and denies it, starts yelling at him that he’s just making stuff up, or that he didn’t know what he saw. But he’s backed himself into a corner like a wounded animal. There was nothing he could do.
“I’m not gay!” His voice carried disgust and offense, and it made a crack in his heart to say that he hated himself.
“I ain’t saying you are.” Bobby gruffed, not having nearly the amount of heat that Dean had. Eventually, Bobby sighs, somewhat defeated.
“Just tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours, kid.” His eyes try to convey empathy, something he doesn’t do very often. He’s just as emotionally stuck up as Dean is in that way, but Dean, for once, understands.
And Dean finally cracks, letting his shoulders come down and feeling his hands shake the smallest bit. Completely flustered and embarrassed, Dean can’t help but feel scared.
“I… I can’t get rid of it.” Dean carried shame in his tone, making him all the more anxious. “I don’t want to be like this… My dad wouldn’t want me to be like this. And I- I can’t hide it. I try, I really do, but it’s stuck on me.” Bobby frowns at him, and Dean thinks he’s done for.
“God, Dad would kill me. He’s gonna kill me.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry Bobby.” It cut something in Bobby to hear how downright afraid and ashamed he was. And Dean was expecting him to condemn him for it.
Instead of Bobby getting pissed, or slumping in disappointment, he puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and says, “There ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for, you hear me? Nothing at all. It don’t make you any less of a person than the next bastard.” He bent down to look Dean in the eyes, even if he wouldn’t meet them. He made sure Dean heard every word.
“You can’t be goin’ on like this, it’s dangerous to be the kinda stupid ‘n’ reckless you’re being, it’ll kill you.”
Dean glanced up to him, willing the water in his eyes to dry out as he focused back on the moldy floor. Bobby might not have been the best with those moments, but he pushed through anyway.
“There’s nothin‘ wrong with ya, kid. It don’t mean shit who you get on with, and you don’t need to feel bad about it. I sure as hell don’t care. You’re my kid whichever way you swing.” Bobby shook his shoulder in reassurance, earning a hopeful glance from Dean that soon dimmed as another thought slammed against his chest.
“Are you gonna tell my dad?” Dean can’t even look up at him when he asks, and it makes Bobby frown. Sometimes Bobby wishes he could slap some sense into John for all the shit he’s done to these kids. He sighed and shook his head, watching the fear roll off Dean’s shoulders like a wave.
“Don’t you worry about John. He doesn’t need to know about your canoodlin’. Besides, I think he’ll come around sooner or later.” He gave a tight smile to the kid who he thought of as his own, Dean sighing out in relief. Bobby didn’t actually know if John would ever come to accept this part of Dean, but he didn’t give a rats’ ass what John thought at that moment. Bobby loved Dean enough for both of them.
“Just make sure to be safe, okay? It don’t matter what you do or want with them boys outside, as long as you keep the door shut and your voices down. I ain’t wanna know about that crap. That rule counts for the ladies, too.”
Before Bobby can say anything else, Dean wraps his arms around him and tugs him into a tight hug. After the initial shock of it passed, Bobby squeezed him back, feeling his coat bunch up in Dean’s fists.
Right then, when Dean was safe and protected in Bobby’s arms, everything poured out. All of Dean’s secret crushes, all the hate and self rage he buried, all the times locked in the bathroom, willing himself to be normal, all of the nights he spent outside with an empty pack of beer at his side and blood dripping from his knuckles, splattered on the wall. The times when John would cast him a warning look whenever he’d stare at a guy walking past just a little too long, everything.
Tears spilled down his cheeks, his chest heaving in anguish. He couldn’t keep it all in this time, he couldn’t keep it buried. So Bobby held on as long as Dean needed, squeezing him until all the tears came out.
“You’re a good kid, Dean. Don’t let anyone else tell you you ain’t.” Bobby cradled Dean’s head like a small child, letting him be a kid and lean on him. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Thank you.” Dean rasped on his shoulder, clinging to his back like a small child and savoring every last bit of comfort he could get.
“Course, idjit.”
Bobby held his head in the hug, letting the pain soak through the top layer of his coat and holding him there. There wasn’t any room for tension there, not like it usually was when they got personal. No, this was just too much to fit into one sitting, so the awkwardness was just pushed out by everything else. Embarrassment stood no chance in the face of such love.
Eventually, Bobby patted his back and Dean started to let go, wiping his face with the sleeve of his flannel before Bobby saw it, even though it wasn’t much use, because his eyes were already red and puffed up, the salty water sticking to his skin. Bobby didn’t comment on it, just patting him on the shoulder with a soft smile, silently telling Dean that it was okay, that he didn’t have to be scared.
“Alright, we’re gonna start growin’ lady parts if we keep on whinin’.” Bobby sighs, dusting himself off as if brushing a layer of feelings off him. Dean would’ve felt hurt if it was anyone other than Bobby. But Bobby didn’t need to say fancy words to get a point across, and he wasn’t really mad at Dean for that moment. That was just his way, and it was just what he needed.
“Alright, you wanna beer?” Bobby said, getting up and waltzing toward the fridge.
“Really?”
“Don’t get your hopes up, son. I said one beer.” He closed the fridge door with his foot, two beer bottle necks clanking between his fingers. “The rest of this is for me”
“Fine by me.” As Dean grabbed a beer from Bobby, he smiled, knowing that he could talk his way into getting a second. He felt good that night, like who he was was okay. Bobby said that it was okay, and he started to think that maybe, just maybe, it could be.