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Description
The radios a dull blare in the corner, cheap speakers distorting, and Deans where he left him three hours back. The kids right at home, under the hood of the 56 Chevy, and Bobby’s pretty sure he hasn’t come up for air yet, let alone the sandwich he’d delivered earlier. Nope, it’s sitting untouched right where Bobby left it.

The sheds popping and creaking in the heat, but as Bobby walks deeper into the workshop the concrete under his feet is radiating a determined chill.

“There better be something horribly wrong with the sandwich boy, because Jodie made that for you and you’re damn well gonna eat it” Bobby says and Dean jumps- head thumping against the hood. Bobby bites back a grin as Dean emerges, rubbing at his head and streaking oil down the side of his face.

The kids so determined to pay him back with the commission he’s got on the car he’s not eating. If that wasn’t a Winchesters’ declaration of love, Bobby didn’t know what was.

But he leaves the sandwich alone, and leans against the car as Dean closes the hood with a solid clunk.

Bobby has a mission.

“So how’s it going?” He asks, taking a draught of the beer Dean hands him as Dean opens his own bottle, the cooler filled with more tepid water than ice at his feet. The boy traces something into the condensation on the glass as he smiles-

“She’s a beaut- a little TLC and ill have her purr-“

“I didn’t mean the car” Bobby cuts in, leaning his hip against the hood, shifting his stance. Dean frowns.

“Then what?”

Bobby steels his nerves.

“I know you don’t have your daddy around to talk about this stuff with-” he starts and Deans face instantly drops, he all out pales like a civilian seeing their first ghost

“Bobby stop!”

“Look boy you’re practically married” he growls, and Dean spit takes, actually spit takes, beer misting in the air in front of him as he holds his bottle out of range, face red and eyes bulging. Bobby ploughs on-

“-I know for a fact that you’ve never been in this kinda relationship before and-”

“What?” Dean splutters, eyes wide. There’s an edge of fear there.

“I thought you said you were okay with that!?” He demands and Bobby scowls at him.

“Not gay you idjit- loving.” he snaps.

Dean screws up his face at the word and not for the first time Bobby wishes he could slap John Winchester over the head.

“Jesus Christ! Did Sam put you up to this?!” Dean says, trying for distraction, taking another slug from his beer.

Bobby’s having none of it.

“You’re going to listen to me. And one day your going to get it through your thick head that I’m here to listen if you ever decide to grow a pair and talk. This kinda commitment- Karen, Jodie too- Boy it changes you. Hell it’s already changed you”

“I have not changed!”

“Yeah you have. And it’s a good thing- and shut it- I’m talking” He glares at Dean, and Dean glowers back.

“It changes you, and that might freak you out, but I’m here to say that that’s normal. But if you want to talk- talk. It ain’t gonna kill ‘ya” Bobby growls, finishing off his beer in three determined pulls. Idjit Boy and his Idjit Angel. Of course he went and fell for a fallen Angel of all things.

He sneaks a glance at Dean from the corner of his eye, noting the line of pudge growing around his middle, and more specifically the lines absent from his face. That frantic Winchester drive was finally easing on the breaks and Bobby was damn well glad, because there was only one way out for His boys if they’d kept it up.

A Father really should have to bury his children twice. His ticker wouldn’t handle it.

“You’re practically growing breasts in front of me, just thought I’d let you know” Dean mutters, rolling the bottle between his hands.

“Fine. I’ve said my piece” Bobby snaps- holding his hands up in defeat, hoping at least some of that got through to the stubborn bastard. At least he could tell Jodie he’d tried, and she could tell Sam that he’d passed on the message, and Bobby could at least pretended he wore the pants in this relationship.

Bobby put the empty down on the countertop.

…

“Thank you.”

He said it so quiet Bobby almost missed it. But he’s sure that was the point. Bobby turns, nods his head, and leaves it at that.

//

Five hours or so, and Lighting is my happy place more at: [link]

Description
The radios a dull blare in the corner, cheap speakers distorting, and Deans where he left him three hours back. The kids right at home, under the hood of the 56 Chevy, and Bobby’s pretty sure he hasn’t come up for air yet, let alone the sandwich he’d delivered earlier. Nope, it’s sitting untouched right where Bobby left it.

The sheds popping and creaking in the heat, but as Bobby walks deeper into the workshop the concrete under his feet is radiating a determined chill.

“There better be something horribly wrong with the sandwich boy, because Jodie made that for you and you’re damn well gonna eat it” Bobby says and Dean jumps- head thumping against the hood. Bobby bites back a grin as Dean emerges, rubbing at his head and streaking oil down the side of his face.

The kids so determined to pay him back with the commission he’s got on the car he’s not eating. If that wasn’t a Winchesters’ declaration of love, Bobby didn’t know what was.

But he leaves the sandwich alone, and leans against the car as Dean closes the hood with a solid clunk.

Bobby has a mission.

“So how’s it going?” He asks, taking a draught of the beer Dean hands him as Dean opens his own bottle, the cooler filled with more tepid water than ice at his feet. The boy traces something into the condensation on the glass as he smiles-

“She’s a beaut- a little TLC and ill have her purr-“

“I didn’t mean the car” Bobby cuts in, leaning his hip against the hood, shifting his stance. Dean frowns.

“Then what?”

Bobby steels his nerves.

“I know you don’t have your daddy around to talk about this stuff with-” he starts and Deans face instantly drops, he all out pales like a civilian seeing their first ghost

“Bobby stop!”

“Look boy you’re practically married” he growls, and Dean spit takes, actually spit takes, beer misting in the air in front of him as he holds his bottle out of range, face red and eyes bulging. Bobby ploughs on-

“-I know for a fact that you’ve never been in this kinda relationship before and-”

“What?” Dean splutters, eyes wide. There’s an edge of fear there.

“I thought you said you were okay with that!?” He demands and Bobby scowls at him.

“Not gay you idjit- loving.” he snaps.

Dean screws up his face at the word and not for the first time Bobby wishes he could slap John Winchester over the head.

“Jesus Christ! Did Sam put you up to this?!” Dean says, trying for distraction, taking another slug from his beer.

Bobby’s having none of it.

“You’re going to listen to me. And one day your going to get it through your thick head that I’m here to listen if you ever decide to grow a pair and talk. This kinda commitment- Karen, Jodie too- Boy it changes you. Hell it’s already changed you”

“I have not changed!”

“Yeah you have. And it’s a good thing- and shut it- I’m talking” He glares at Dean, and Dean glowers back.

“It changes you, and that might freak you out, but I’m here to say that that’s normal. But if you want to talk- talk. It ain’t gonna kill ‘ya” Bobby growls, finishing off his beer in three determined pulls. Idjit Boy and his Idjit Angel. Of course he went and fell for a fallen Angel of all things.

He sneaks a glance at Dean from the corner of his eye, noting the line of pudge growing around his middle, and more specifically the lines absent from his face. That frantic Winchester drive was finally easing on the breaks and Bobby was damn well glad, because there was only one way out for His boys if they’d kept it up.

A Father really should have to bury his children twice. His ticker wouldn’t handle it.

“You’re practically growing breasts in front of me, just thought I’d let you know” Dean mutters, rolling the bottle between his hands.

“Fine. I’ve said my piece” Bobby snaps- holding his hands up in defeat, hoping at least some of that got through to the stubborn bastard. At least he could tell Jodie he’d tried, and she could tell Sam that he’d passed on the message, and Bobby could at least pretended he wore the pants in this relationship.

Bobby put the empty down on the countertop.

…

“Thank you.”

He said it so quiet Bobby almost missed it. But he’s sure that was the point. Bobby turns, nods his head, and leaves it at that.

//

Five hours or so, and Lighting is my happy place more at: [link]