Staying in the Lines SPNColdestHits
Cover Art by whataboutthefish
Title: Staying in the Lines
Pairing(s): None/Genfic
Rating: G/General Audiences
Word Count: 657
Tags: non-sexual age play/infantilism, fluff
Summary: This is my take on what happened while Dean was in the men's room for an hour in the episode The Benders 1x15.
A/N: This was my entry for SPNColdestHits's September Challenge. We needed to fill in the gap of one hour when Dean was in the men's room during the episode The Benders 1x15. We also had to do it while keeping it G-rated, no archive warnings.
He doesn't get to indulge very often. Living in each other's pockets meant no privacy, and Dean didn't want Sam or his dad figuring it out.
"That's very good, Dean," the man said, running his fingers over Dean's head as Dean concentrated.
He wasn't picky. He just wanted to let himself feel free and unburdened once in a while.
"Careful," the man warned, and when Dean bit his lip, concentrating really hard, the man chuckled and patted Dean's head. "Very good."
Dean basked in the praise, trying even harder as he continued. He was a good boy. He was doing exactly what he should be doing. Nothing was out there waiting other than Sam. Nobody would find him and tell him he was sick and wrong.
"Ah-ah, make it bigger, li'l one," the man said.
Dean did as he was told, and smiled when he heard the man let out an approving noise. Dean was a very good boy.
"Have you always been this good or did somebody help ya?" the man asked.
It wasn't condescending. It wasn't judgmental. It was conversational and encouraging. Dean felt himself blush, and he couldn't bring himself to look up, look the man in the eye.
"All by myself," Dean said softly.
"You're a very special little boy, then, aren't ya," the man said instead of asked.
Dean shook his head. "Don't wanna be special."
"No?" the man asked, crouching down in front of him, trying to catch Dean's eye. "You wanna be just an average little boy who's very, very good?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah," he said as he colored in the rest of the doggie's tail in his coloring book.
"Okay, that's understandable," the man said, easily adjusting how he spoke to Dean in a way that spoke of the man's experience with this very situation. "You've earned all your credits," he said, using his index finger to nudge Dean's chin, pushing up so Dean looked him in the eye.
Dean froze, the care and concern radiating from the man nearly overwhelming.
"You're a good boy, Dean," the man said. "Don't ever let someone convince ya you're not. No matter what they say or do, don't let it get inside your head."
"How do you know?" Dean asked, pulling his chin away from the man's finger and trying to finish his doggie picture.
"Because I just know things like this," the man said, chuckling. "You might not believe me, but I've always had this ability. I see a boy and I just know he's good or bad. Why do a think it was so easy for me to find ya tonight?"
Dean stopped coloring and looked up at the man. "I saw you looking at me from across the bar."
The man nodded. "Ya were doodlin' on your napkin, but it looked like ya really wanted to be coloring in my coloring book instead."
Dean smiled. "I did. Thank you."
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
Dean never would've let most people get away with that sort of endearment, but he let the man say it. He wasn't really sure why, but one look in the man's way-too-deep brown eyes and Dean just knew he was safe with this man.
As Mr. Lafitte left the restroom nearly forty-five minutes later, Dean content and feeling better than he had in a long time, he tipped his hat at Dean and smiled.
"Hope I'll see ya 'round again soon, kiddo," he said.
Dean smiled back. "Thanks."
Mr. Lafitte held the coloring book against his chest as he walked out of the bathroom, and Dean felt a little thrill inside his tummy, knowing that Mr. Lafitte would keep the page that Dean had worked so hard on.
Mr. Lafitte had even asked for it, and the look on the man's face when Dean said yes released even more tension in Dean's shoulders. Yeah, he'd get a good night's sleep and tomorrow would be a good day.
End.