The large rough hands pushed you. Distantly Jess heard Rory yelling.
"No Dean!"
It seemed that farm boy payed no heed as he closed right in and started aiming. He felt a moment of panic before the adrenaline took over, causing him to push back.
Soon you were both tumbling, over chairs, onto the sticky floor.
As he fought, Jess tried to ignore the feeling of that long, lean body pressing over his. Bony limbs and angles under his hands as he punched into the towering frame, causing them both to fall into the lawn.
The yelling was everywhere now. Jess could hear Rory crying, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Couldn't bring that attention attention away from the feeling of herenow.
Dean smelled like he thought he would, that musky scent of hay even though the shorter of the two knew that despite his taunts, he really didn't pick up hay barrels all day. And something else, something different and there.
It was overwhelming his senses and he knew that if he didn't do anything soon, he wouldn't be able to help himself.
Luck was on his side as the crowd scattered, the sirens in the distance coming closer. You were torn apart, but he knew Dean had felt it.
In that second before pulling away, Dean had closed in, pressed together from chest to calf and he had felt that heat that was constricted in his jeans.
Jess had seen the widening of the eyes, heard the quick intake of breath before they were both separated.
He ruthlessly crushed the disappointment that he felt at that action as he shook off his holders, looking with smoldering eyes at the hovering man one more time as he turned.
He ignored Rory's cries of his name, he needed to think.
Dean looked at the back in confusion. He knew what he had felt in that moment when he had been looking to get in one last good punch, seen the scowling face scrunch in panic before it smoothed out once more into his usual look of boredom and teenage angst and anger.
He felt soft hands on his shoulders and looked down at the blonde looking up with a worried gaze.
For some reason those hands didn't feel as good as the ones that had been on him seconds before.
Dean spared a glance at his old girlfriends tear stained face, a look a his new's now confused one. With a shake of his head he shook off Lindsey's embrace, staring at the shadow going into the mist like the freakin' lone ranger.
He didn't like that feeling coursing through his veins, the heat that was searing through his body.
It had started out like he had meant it to. Defending Rory, she was still precious to him. Had introduced him to love, was kind to him in a new town, ignoring the fact that everybody was nice of course.
But then it had turned into something else. Leaving him staring like an idiot, the cause of his trouble long gone, and a crying friend.
He turned away and headed down the short path to house. It was an uncomfortable walk.
He had a fucking hard on for the towns bad boy after fighting, a fight that had began because of his old girlfriend.
Dean shook his head, he would think on it later, as of now, he had to take care of something.
He frowned, looking out over the hick town that had gotten under his skin.
Luke was at the funeral and the diner was barren. Everybody in this apple pie population liked each other, it was a damn holiday when someone died.
Wasn't like in the city where someone died and the next day, you were sitting in their spot.
The old duffel was waiting up stairs and he was up and ready to leave. But there was something holding him back.
Not Rory. He loved her, but not enough to stay. Not Luke, he was attached, but he wasn't his reason of regret.
No, it was something else.
It was the same reason for leaving, why he was really leaving.
Hell, Rory was closing in, getting too close and even though he could stay in it for the love, the missing attraction, that thing that made him want to do something crazy, couldn't support it for as long as he wanted it to. And Dean was getting right and cozy.
Getting ready to get married, he had heard him, a couple days ago at the park. It was too much.
Jess could stand watching in the distance, seeing that long frame everyday around town was okay. But there was something about him making it that final that set in stone that he couldn't stand.
He had to get out.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the jingling of the bell above the door.
Guess someone wanted something extra for the speeches that would be going on.
Pulling up from where he had been leaning on the counter he felt shock go through him at seeing that tanned body walk through the door.
The sure-fire attitude was momentarily gone as he saw the uncertainty in that gaze. The 'Aw shucks ma'am.' set of the shoulders.
Jess walked around the counter, slowly, cautious before leaning against the counter.
Dean seemed to gain momentum as he got nearer, he straightened up, squared his shoulders. He walked in close, getting in his space. His presence there, demanding attention.
There was a brooding look on his face as Dean just looked at him, stared as Jess looked back.
Then he kissed you.
It was chaste, a quick pressing of the lips.
Jess could feel the slight moisture clinging to the chapped lips, the taste permeating through closed lips.
He tasted like oranges and something so completely Dean that he had to pull away before it consumed him.
Dean stared at him in confusion and that look, so innocent, defensive, had you turning him around, slamming him into the counter.
Jess latched onto him, the mouth under his opening and then he was lost.
In the feel, the taste, the sheer everything.
It was goodbye and both knew it.