Morning came all too soon, again, for Jess.
He could have watched Dean sleep for another week at least, and yes he’d come to terms with the creepiness of it by now and didn’t mind it at all. How could Dean operate on just five hours of sleep every night? Why wasn’t he bit more like Jess – lazy and reluctant to leave the comfort of a warm bed until the sun was way up high in the sky? Why was he so hell-bent on being this… fiercely sincere, uptight and responsible, perfect frigging gentleman who always had to do the right thing by everyone, even if it killed himself in the process?
Jess sighed, and turned to lay on his back, still watching, entranced, as the first light of dawn washed the shadows away from Dean’s face. Did he have a right to feel this sense of admiration and pride for Dean? Pride is what you feel for something you own, something that, at least in part, belongs to you, or something you had a hand in creating. So no, of course not.
But he felt it anyway.
The two blankets had obviously become too hot for Dean sometime during the night. So there he was, stretched out face down on the bed, having kicked both off to the floor, one leg stretched to the foot of the bed, the other bent at the knee and pulled up closer into his stomach. His face was turned towards Jess, his mouth slightly open like a little child deep in sleep. One arm was bent at the elbow, hand pinned under his stomach, and the other hand was next to his cheek on the pillow, long, elegant fingers folded softly into a partial fist. His longish hair sparkled in the soft ambient light making Jess ache deep inside. And those eyelashes, long and thick and draped oh so casually over his cheeks… they were going to be the death of him someday. Jess was two hundred percent sure of that.
When Dean stirred, Jess’ first instinct was to go dead limp and pretend to sleep. But Dean didn’t exactly wake up. Instead he shifted and slid in the bed in a way that… dear sweet Lord… the sweats two sizes too large slipped off his waist, exposing more skin than Jess should have the right to witness.
“Fuck,” he hissed, closing his eyes but unable to keep them closed for more than a second.
Come on. Obviously Jess was no saint. Hell, far from it. From his spot on the floor, all Jess had to do (and did) was crane up a bit so he could see the exposed contours of Dean’s ass. He could clearly make out the two delicately rising mounds and the tempting dip in between. And of course, that pale white skin… all that… inhumanly irresistable skin…
Jess stood up in a hurry, quite aware by now of his breathlessness and the uncomfortable stiffness in his boxers but ignoring them pointedly to walk over to the bed. He picked up one of the blankets from the floor, sorting it out briefly from the other one and cursing silently under his breath, holding it in both hands before turning back towards the bed.
And that’s when he froze.
Dean’s eyes were open, and they were fixed on his.
“I… I was just…”
But there was simply no way to explain the rush of all his blood to his face now, was there?
Jess turned his face away for a bit and gulped, then quietly, timidly approached the bed. When Dean didn’t scream, or flinch, or give any indication whatsoever that he minded (or even attempt to cover his half exposed gorgeous ass), Jess draped the blanket over the other boy, covering his body from his giant feet all the way up to his chest. Quickly he straightened up and only then did he dare look up into Dean’s eyes.
They seemed… calm, not about to get up and sock the living daylights out of him at all. Maybe he wasn’t quite awake yet.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
Okay, now Jess really knew Dean wasn’t awake yet. Maybe he was sleeptalking too?
Dean turned slowly so he was lying on his back, folded both his hands over his chest, his fingers entwining themselves with the blanket Jess had just provided. And that somehow made Jess inexplicably giddy. Jess bit his lip and shrugged quickly, digging his hands in his track pants’ pockets, not sure what to do with them anymore.
“Can’t believe I sleepwalked in the rain, again.”
Jess just blinked, mouth slightly agape, not sure he really saw what he thought he saw.
Dean had smiled at him… ever so mildly, if not sheepishly.
Was Dean really actually making conversation with him? He swallowed again, trying to figure out what Dean’s angle was today.
“I didn’t change your… um, you know. If that’s what you were worried about.”
Dean blushed, a soft red coloring his cheeks that Jess found quite endearing really. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed but didn’t try to get up. Instead he looked down at his hands, breaking eye contact which made Jess realize how terribly lost the other boy looked just then.
Way to go, Mariano. How very tactful, as always.
Jess sighed and slowly made to sit down on the bed, besides Dean. Dean noticed but when he didn’t protest, Jess relaxed.
“Did you stay up all night again?”
Jess blinked, thinking fast. “I like to read.”
“When do you sleep?”
Jess smirked. “Vacation, remember? I sleep whenever I want to.”
Dean didn’t quite buy it, that much was obvious. But he seemed to decide not to pursue it, and instead glanced sideways at the book that lay discarded on Jess’ pillow.
“You and Rory still have that in common, I guess.”
He didn’t look at Jess when he said that. But the soft and clearly despondent tone of his voice made Jess smile, hell it made him – unbelievably giddy with happiness. Someone was jealous alright.
“Yeah well, that’s about the only thing we ever did. It wasn’t enough then, and it sure isn’t now.”
Dean looked into his eyes then, Jess letting him because he wanted Dean to know he was speaking the absolute truth. That he didn’t have any cause to be jealous of Rory. Or any other girl (or boy) for that matter.
Dean suddenly looked embarrassed and looked away quickly.
Jess changed the subject. “Hey, I remember seeing you around with a book hanging out of one hip pocket. So what’re you reading these days?”
“I-I don’t have time for that anymore.”
Of course. How does a guy with three jobs plus doing overtime on weekends find any time for himself at all?
The need to touch Dean hit him then in a short burst of reckless impulse and Jess deliberated for all of a second before deciding – the hell with it. He reached out, with a hesitant hand, towards Dean’s face making damn sure Dean knew it was coming. Placed two fingers on the side of Dean’s jaw, causing the other boy to flinch ever so slightly, but he didn’t protest. Instead he let Jess turn his face back up towards him until their eyes met again.
“What were you doing at the bookshop, then?”
“I, uh, was on my lunch b-break a-and –”
“And you decided to spend it in a book store because you don’t read?”
“Uh, no, Clara, she a-asked me to – “
“Clara asked you to follow me?”
Dean’s cheeks couldn’t have colored a brighter red if he used paint. He pulled away from Jess’ hand and frowned. “I was not following you.”
“Oh, you so were.”
“What are you, eight?”
“You better hope not, ‘cause that would make you a pedophile, you big stalking doofus.”
“Oh for God’s sake!”
Dean tried to sit up but by this time Jess was practically leaning over him so if he did try, he would only end up bringing his face closer to Jess’ and… he probably wasn’t ready for that yet. Instead he tried backing away, except he was already flat on his back with no more back left to go.
Jess couldn’t help but smile. This boy who had four inches and at least fifteen pounds on Jess… watching him pinned to the bed by nothing but Jess’ eyes, barely even squirming (which Jess took to be a very, very good sign), was turning him on more than it should legally be allowed to.
“How can you be so sure I wasn’t following her?”
Ah. Sucker punch.
Jess almost did pull away at that. But then he looked, really looked into Dean’s narrowed eyes. Making up his mind, he bent lower, so low his nose was a few centimeters away from Dean’s. His heart skipped a beat as he watched Dean’s eyes fall to his mouth, the Adam’s apple bobbing resolutely, before he looked up again, staring right into Jess’ eyes.
“If you were following Rory, then you wouldn’t let me do this, will you?”
And just as Dean started to open his mouth to ask “what”, Jess kissed him.
Dean didn’t push him away, nor did he flinch or shrink away or threaten to call the cops on him. Hell, he didn’t even breathe.
So Jess kissed him again. And this time he watched the ridiculously long eyelashes settle down on the ridiculously chiseled cheeks before Jess closed his own eyes as well.
He felt the chest beneath his swell, rising as if struggling to draw breath, reaching upwards to come in searing touch with his body, burning the dark-haired rebel from inside out. His senses soared, even though he still couldn’t believe it, when Dean kissed him back. Dean even lifted his chin up to get better leverage on Jess’ lips like Jess had on Dean’s. Every single nerve ending in his body tingled, and Jess finally let go of the strenuous control that’d been holding his body taut with unresolved tension all night. Hell, all fucking week!
Jess watched helplessly, as his body melted (both practically and metaphorically speaking) into the far-reaching arms that came up and around him, pulling him down into the magnificent form of his one-time arch nemesis. It was surreal, almost too good to be true – Jess was kissing Dean and Dean was kissing him back!
The lips were as soft and pliant as he’d imagined, the strands of hair gliding between his fingers just as silken. Dean’s body was still warm and heavy with sleep, and the strength of those arms around his chest gripping him tight, holding Jess close… God… Dean could have been sucking the very life out of Jess through that skillful mouth and Jess would have happily complied. All he could do was feel… his thinking faculties had almost completely shut down, what with the intense rush of blood to his head, and to his groin…
And Dean was still kissing him back!
When they parted, not because they wanted to but because the lack of oxygen forced them to, Jess sought Dean’s eyes, hoping, not sure exactly what for. Just, hoping. Dean’s face was still red, plush with blood and adrenaline and breathlessness in general. But there was also a playful little smile lurking behind the hesitant quirk of his swollen lips.
Jess couldn’t resist. “So, not so straight, are we?”
Dean’s eyes twinkled, shrugging with his eyebrows. “Bi-curious, more like.”
“Guess I can rest my case then.”
“You saw me coming out of the diner from your grocery store across the street, and you followed me, to the bookshop.”
Dean huffed, an insolent pout replacing the smile. “Why do you always have to have the last word?”
Jess grinned. “Why do you always have to fight me on everything?”
Dean stared at him wordlessly for a couple seconds. Then suddenly, Jess’ world was turned upside down and next thing he knew, he was the one flat on his back on the bed. Dean had flipped him over and changed places almost effortlessly. It was his smirking face now looming over Jess’, his hands still gripped tight around Jess’ wrists, holding them down against the pillow. Nothing but a flimsy blanket separated him from Dean and it simply wasn’t enough to hide the stiffness below his waistline. He knew Dean could feel it too, but still he made no move to get away from it. Instead, he pressed down and rubbed up against the shorter boy with vehemence, giving Jess something else… another source of long, hard stiffness, to feel instead.
Jess gasped, not so quietly.
“I’m not some girl, Mariano.” Dean whispered, voice gravelly and laden with emotions Jess couldn’t quite put a name to yet. All he could do was twist lightly in Dean’s strong (but not forced) grasp of him, testing him.
"I noticed," he whispered breathlessly.
Dean pressed his nose right under Jess’ lightly stubbled chin and breathed deeply, before coming up to gaze almost longingly into Jess’ brandy brown eyes. “I’m not going to make this easy for you. Sure you still want this baggage weighing down on your summer break?”
Jess smirked. “You should know by now, Forester. I like to see you riled up. You’re hot when you’re… difficult.”
He took advantage of Dean’s brief moment of surprise and assimilation, and pushed up with his entire body weight to flip them back into their original position. Dean went there without resistance; his head flopping to the pillow carelessly as he continued to search for God knew what in Jess’ eyes.
Jess swooped down and licked at those luscious lips once again until they parted, letting him into a heaven of sorts that he’d hoped but never really thought he’d actually have. Dean tasted of warmth, and spearmint and clove, toothpaste of some kind obviously, hint of candy. He was worried about his own bad breath, but Dean didn’t seem to mind so far, so Jess plowed on. He buried one hand in the mop of hair on top of Dean’s head, pulling it back not so gently as if to hold Dean in place. Soon enough, he was rewarded with Dean moaning right into his mouth as Dean-junior jerked excitedly against his thigh.
“Besides,” Jess managed to rasp in between sucking tongue, serving his need to have the last word after all. “Trust me. I’m easy enough for the both of us.”
Dean laughed into the kiss, high-pitched and careless like Jess had never heard him laugh before. It was the most beautiful sound he'd heard in years.