==000==

"No."

"Why not? Please, Dean. You'll like her. I know you will."

"I said, No, Sam." He was so angry that he had to pull the car over to the side of the road. All he could see in his mind was Sam, his Sam kissing some woman. Doing other stuff with her. He felt like there was a metal fist clamped around his intestines. He thought he was going to be sick.

There was silence on the other end of the cell but he could hear Sammy breathing, could tell he still had the phone close to his ear waiting for him to change his mind, to agree to do as he asked and come and meet this new friend of his.

Sam waited, holding his breath but then he had to let it go. His brother could be a stubborn bastard and had picked now to be one of those moments. He really needed him to come and see him. He needed to talk to him, the only person that he could trust, the only person who had a right to know what he was thinking, feeling. And, of course, it affected Dean. He just hoped somehow that he could get him to understand what he was going through. Could help him reason it out. It had been a stupid thought.

Sat here, already dressed and ready to go out on his first official 'date', nervous as hell and scared that he was making a huge mistake, he had thought that if he could get Dean to come, if he could talk it out with him one of two things would happen.

He would take one look at those blazing green eyes and not even bother to call Jess to say he was not coming, or two, Dean would understand and let him find out if what he was beginning to feel was real or just something that he thought should be.

But of course, stupidly, he had forgotten for that brief moment as he dialled about that damn jealously.

Over the last two years there had been no sign of it. There had been no need and he had almost forgotten.

Dean was never going to be the one to break the silence. It still amazed Sam to this day when he had opened his door and found him stood there. "Please…"

Dean closed his eyes, dropping his head. The sound of the pleading in that one word. He had never been able to resist that gentle voice. But the thought of… "Why would I want to come and met some woman that you're banging?" and meant every word but cursed his stupidity as soon as he spoke.

"What? I haven't slept with her! I've not even kissed her! For fucksakes, Dean, why do you always think I'm so willing to jump into bed with everyone I become friends with?" knowing now that he would never be able to talk to his brother about this. Dean would never understand, would not try to.

"Because you…" and Dean slammed his mouth shut. Sam had sworn to him that he had lied over Scott. He should believe him, he should but, but…the thought of him being with someone else. Of touching, kissing someone else…

Sam was incensed. He had long ago gotten past the days when he would forgive Dean anything. They were older now. He was not that same person, not the young boy that was so besotted and grateful to his brother for loving him. He was becoming his own person. He had thought that he was in an adult, if not quite equal, relationship. And for Dean to suddenly throw his past in his face, to make a reference to his former career? To his life as a rent boy? That was unforgivable. "You Bastard! As if you're as pure as the driven snow. Who was she this week? Who was the slut you rutted with in some motel room this time?"

"What?"

"Don't think I don't know, Dean. I know damn well you can't go for more than a couple of weeks without bedding some random woman when you can't get to your 'fuck boy' in time!"

And for the first time ever, Sam hung up on him.

=0=

A blast from the horn of a passing truck startled Dean back to his surroundings. He slowly opened his fist releasing the cell phone, grimacing as his fingers felt numb then painful as the blood rushed back into joints that had been bleached white by the strength of his grip. How could he have been so stupid?

He had not meant that. Had not meant to throw Sammy's past in his face like that. He had been thinking of the way he had looked at that boy, that Scott. The way Sammy had obviously wanted him then gone to that party even though Dean had made it clear that he did not want him to. But of course Sam was not a mind reader and had jumped to the conclusion that he was insinuating that he was still a whore.

He would never do that but then Sam had plenty of evidence that Dean did not always say what he truly felt. He had always found it hard to talk to Sam, to really talk to him and their entire relationship had been fraught with miss communication and misunderstandings. He had told himself so many times to think, to actually think before he opened his mouth but of course, the hardest advice to follow was always your own.

But he could tell, just from the way his lover had said that woman's name, had asked him to come and meet her that there was something there. He should go. He should switch on the engine and set his car quickly towards those earnest beautiful hazel eyes and without words show Sam just why he did not need anyone else. He should keep his mouth shut because that was what always, always got him into trouble.

Reaching across the seat and retrieving the cell phone, Dean opened and dialled Sam's number. He would apologise and tell him that he was on his way and would get there tomorrow afternoon at the latest. It rang and rang then just cut to voicemail. His face fixed, Dean closed his phone, 'keeping his mouth shut'.

Turning over the engine, he pulled out onto the highway barely checking the road and made a U-turn, the tyres protesting against the tarmac as he pressed hard on the accelerator wanting to get as far from California as he could.

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T.B.C...