johndean drabble // implied sexual abuse, father x son incest
dean bites — a dog taught to be violent. but when john cradled his chin, thumb slipped into between his plump lips: all dean waa, was his father's lamb to be devoured. part of him was used to it. most of him craved for it; for the touches that made him return to his natural self.
a pliant, good boy, that was all dean ever wanted to be. a good son. john's whatever-john-wanted-him-to-be, — a wife, a whore, a weapon, rarely a son. never a son. and dean felt the safest when dad would tell him what he wanted, so dean allowed himself to think he was a good boy.
a good, good boy.
that was only allowed when they were alone; rough, calloused hands on cradling his face with a gentleness that was never compatible with the blood, the roughness of intimacy. dad would look at him like dean was the prettiest boy in the world, use him like some cheap, breakable toy he wanted to ruin.
dad has ruined him before dean knew how to be a real person.
