9091:

TITLE: A First Time for Everything
AUTHOR: 9091
PAIRING: Dean/Other (Het)
GENRE: Smut
RATING: Mature/Explicit
WARNINGS: Dean is underage (2 months shy of his 16th birthday)
SPOILERS: None
THANKS to: Paintchipped, beta reader extraordinaire, talking me off ledges and shit.  And 67chevyimpala doesn’t get away from this one unscathed, either; you have her seemingly innocent head-canon question to thank.
WORDS: 8730
SUMMARY: Dean Winchester walks into a bar a virgin.  After this, that never happens again.

***

November 1994

It was two months before his sixteenth birthday, and holy shit, he was beautiful.  

Too beautiful, and he knew it.  He’d heard “pretty boy” so often from his dad’s friends that it changed the way he moved his face, the way he held his mouth when he talked, how he walked.  He displayed his teeth more when he spoke, like he was ferocious.  It was adorable and completely ineffective.  Because the first thing anyone thought when they looked at Dean Winchester was: Damn, that boy’s pretty.  

Depending on their sexual orientation, people wanted to punch him in the mouth or fuck him until he passed out.  Sometimes both.  Dean knew when they were looking at him, and thinking about him that way.  He would square his shoulders, thrust his chin out and scowl to look tougher.

“You take after your mom,” John told him. “You’ll man up.”

“I don’t need to man up,” Dean grumbled from inside the bathroom, where he was shaving despite it being unnecessary.  At least his voice had changed the way it was supposed to, and Dean knew from flipping through porno mags that his other parts were okay.  Hell, maybe better than okay.  It was just… his face.

They were heading out to a hunter bar that night.  Dean had only been inside one a few times, but the last time he’d gone, months before, a drunken bear of a dude had sent over a drink like a smartass, winking at him.  ”Oh, shit, son, I thought you was a girl.”

So Dean had just stared at the guy as he drank the beer, never letting his eyes shift, not blinking at all.  He chugged the beer and slammed it down when he was done.  And then he fucked up the dude’s tires when they got outside.  Dad chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, but the damage was done.

He looked back at his face in the mirror.  Why did he have to take after Mom?  He immediately felt awful for thinking it.

Dad was standing in the open door of their motel room, getting impatient.  ”If you wanna man up, Dean, you might want to stop primping in the damn mirror.”

“I’m not primping!” Dean yelled back angrily, thankful that Sam was already in the car and hadn’t heard that.  He slammed the bathroom door and stalked out after his father.

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