Disclaimer: Supernatural and it's characters don't belong to me.

Warnings:Swearing, angst, violence, Slash but not wincest.

Author's Note: I'm back with the whole writing thing! My block seems to have passed for now, so expect more regular updates.


Chapter Four: Swinging From the Tallest Heights

The next week passed in a blur for Dean, and he was still left scratching his head whenever Sam was involved. He hadn't counted on him staying around for any length of time, so he hadn't come up with a way to deal with the younger man. So instead of keeping him company and getting stuck in awkward silences, he avoided him all together. As much as was possible considering he drove Sam to and from the town every day.

Sam, for his part seemed to be keeping to himself and staying out of his way. But that didn't mean that Dean couldn't watch him. It seemed that Sam was perfectly fine with living in his own isolated world. He didn't strike Dean as the type who socialized a lot, or even got along with people. It was like part of him was always somewhere else, no matter what he was doing. Like he was divided between the present and the past.

Dean rubbed his forehead and rested his head against his hand. The road before him was dark, and his headlights picked out the reflectors along the edges of the road, lighting them up and guiding him back towards home. It had been a long and frustrating day, and all he wanted to do was have a drink at the pub and go home and sleep all weekend.

Although things hadn't been exactly relaxing at his house lately. Not with Sam around, those pretty eyes and those perfect lips following him around. And those large, gentle hands that seemed incapable of hurting anything, those legs that seemed to go for miles...

Dean shifted in his seat, adjusting his jeans as his body reacted to his pornographic thoughts.

"Dammit," he swore to himself, angrier than he could remember being.

He couldn't remember feeling so torn in years. Since his father had left him, actually. He had felt desire and need before, but this was way past what he was used to. He couldn't remember ever wanting to touch so badly before. Sam would be his undoing if he let it get any worse, and he didn't need that.

Besides, he wasn't a hundred percent sure if the kid swung his way, despite catching Sam watching him with an endearing flush in his cheeks.

Dean swerved into the parking lot of the local pub and killed the engine. For a moment he just sat still, willing his body under control and telling himself that he needed to get a grip before he did something he knew he would regret.

Dean slammed the truck door shut behind him and put his keys in his pocket as he entered the noisy pub. Once he was inside, he paused for a moment, drinking in the familiar scene. The smell of alcohol and hot food reminded him how hungry he was, the throbbing music a welcome distraction. He knew most of the people in this pub, and while he wasn't really one for socializing, for once he didn't mind the crowded space.

If only to take his mind off gray eyes and a body like that of a Greek god.

Dean headed towards the bar, relieved that he saw Jack there, along with a few of their other friends.

"Get me a beer will you, Ben?" he asked the bartender.

"Rough day, huh?" Jack asked in greeting as he clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'll say," Dean agreed wearily running a hand over his face and nodding his thanks to the bar keep. He drank deeply from his glass like a dying man.

"Rogers giving you trouble again?" Jack asked, leaning next to him on the bar.

"I'm lucky I got out of there without murdering the man. He wanted to pay less than half our normal price for that ammunition."

"No shit? That man's worse than pond scum. I'm still wondering why we agreed to do business with him."

"Because he's the best in the area. Having our names next to his will do wonders to bring in new customers." Dean grunted into his half empty glass. "Still, doesn't mean we have to like the man."

"Too right," Jack agreed. "Well, you're here now, and that's all that matters. "

"Thank god too."

"I know something that might distract you," Jack was grinning openly at him now and Dean frowned at him.

"I'm not in the mood for your childish pranks," Dean growled at him, though he wasn't really bothered. He needed all the distraction he could get. "It's been a long day."

"Amen to that man. But somehow I don't think you'll mind this one."

"What are you babbling about man?"

"Look over there," Jack pointed across the bar over to a shadowed, out of the way corner. Dean had to squint without his glasses, but he could make out the long, lanky figure of Sam without much trouble. He was sitting in the shadows, a half empty pint of beer before him. Even in such a crowded room, he seemed so isolated and separate from the noise. Dean felt his heart skip a beat in his chest at the thought of him over there by himself. Not only that, but his body was interested without a doubt. The sight of those long legs stretched out in a comfortable sprawl, that chiseled chin resting in the palm of one hand, and those dark gray eyes watching the crowd calmly had his blood rising, making him more uncomfortable than he had any right to be.

"You should go over there," Jack said in his ear.

The scowl returned to Dean's face and he turned his back to Sam, needing some space to sort out his conflicted feelings.

" And why would I do a stupid thing like that?" he returned, trying not to sound defensive.

"Because you like him. And he has no friends around here yet. He looks like he could use one."

Dean shot him a glare and refused to justify his friends foolish notions with an answer.

"I've seen the way you look at him. I'm not blind Dean. You want him."

"What do you want me to say Jack? I'm not interested. Besides, it's not like he'll be sticking around for long anyways."

"All the more reason for you to try. If he's not sticking around then he's not looking to get involved. It doesn't have to be so complicated all the time. Sex is sex Dean."

"Man, I don't need to hear this from you. I've had more one night stands in the past year than you have had in your entire life," Dean snorted, stirred into make some sort of response.

Jack just grinned at him, leaning on one elbow and holding his beer in his other hand.

"So what's so different about this one then? Something else you're not telling me? Could it be..."

"No!" Dean snapped straightening. He turned and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Jack called after him, his grin very evident in his voice.

"Where the fuck do you think I'm going, asshole?" Dean shot back over his shoulder. He tried to ignore the laughter that followed him.

So. He was going to go over there and just talk to him. If it led to anything else then that was fine. There was no reason why he had to be acting like some sort of teenage girl with her first crush. All he had to do was talk to him, carry out a conversation. He could do that. Never mind the churning in his gut, nor the nervousness he could feel thrumming throughout him.

No one had made him feel quite the same in years. And that in itself was intriguing. Maybe he could figure out just what it was about Sam that he found so fascinating.

Dean navigated through the crowd with little trouble, saying hi to the people who greeted him but not slowing down in the slightest.

Once he reached the table he stood there for a moment, looking down at Sam, who looked up at him after a moment. His eyes widened fractionally and he sat up a little, pulling in on himself unconsciously.

Dean had to hide his smile as he sat himself down opposite him.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he told Sam before taking a swallow of his beer to hide his nervousness.

Sam shifted again, turning a little to face Dean but not looking up at him.

"Just needed to clear my mind, that's all. I can leave if you want me to." Sam said before finally looking up at him. Dean had to swallow as he met those clear gray eyes, so open and honest that he was having trouble just thinking straight. Just being so close to Sam clouded his mind in a way that made him uneasy.

He frowned slowly as what Sam had just said sunk into his brain.

"What? Why would I want you to leave?"

"Because it just seems...You know what? Never mind," Sam smiled at him, but it looked all wrong, and forced in a way that a smile never should. Especially not on someone like Sam. But Sam was standing up, and looking down at him, not moving. Dean looked up at him, and noted idly that Sam was taller than anyone he had ever met. He loomed with the best of them, and that sent a shudder of pure heat throughout him.

Dean was jolted unpleasantly back to reality when Sam's lips quirked a little sadly and he turned and disappeared into the press of bodies.

He must have sat there stunned for a few minutes, trying to figure out what had happened. Had he done something to upset Sam? Done something to offend him that he wasn't aware of? He knew that he couldn't leave things like they were, and that he didn't want to. Sam was a good person. He deserved some honesty from him at the very least, and if they were going to be living in close quarters with each other for the foreseeable future, then they were going to have to make some sort of effort at communication. As usual, Dean had failed spectacularly at that. Communicating wasn't something he had any skills at. Talking about things just seemed to create more problems than it solved.

Suddenly the crowded pub was too noisy, and there were too many people. What had been a sanctuary for a short time had become too suffocating for him to stand any longer. He needed to get out. He needed to find Sam, because knowing him, he'd probably have started to walk back to Bobby's. There was no way he could make it, not with that leg of his.

With a muttered curse, Dean downed the remains of his pint and got to his feet. As he was heading to the door, he fished around in his pocket for his keys.

"Hey Dean!" Jack caught his elbow, pulling him to a halt. "What's going on? Where's Sam?"

"I don't know. I'm going to find him," Dean replied tersely. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He pulled away and made a bolt for the door, pausing once he was outside to inhale the cold night air deep into his lungs to try and clear his head. Away from the press of bodies and the pounding music, he found he could think again and started to calm down. He wondered why he got so worked up sometimes, and over something as little as there being a crowd.

But he needed to find Sam, rather than standing around twiddling his thumbs. Shaking his head, he ran down the three steps and strode purposefully over to his truck. There was no going back now, he told himself. He was going to get this sorted with Sam. And if he found that Sam was interested, then they would see how it went. If he wasn't interested, then that was that and at least they would be clear with each other.

Despite having made up his mind though, his stomach was jumping in anticipation. If Sam was interested, then he would finally get to know exactly how sweet those lips of his were, and just how it would feel to touch all that golden skin.

But he was getting ahead of himself. Dean shook his head again as he gunned the engine and reversed out of the parking lot. The truck fishtailed a little as he roared out of the parking lot. For a moment he reveled in the throbbing of the engine beneath him, and the cold night in rushing in the window. He was fairly thrumming with anticipation enough so that he almost missed the shadow of a figure walking along to side of the road with his hands in his pockets. Dean slowed right down before pulling over and stopping in front of Sam.

He watched for a moment as Sam stopped and looked at him, not trying to move around the truck. So maybe he was willing to listen then.

"Get in." Dean told him, congratulating himself for not sounding pissed off or tense for a change. There was something about Sam that disarmed him, dismantled his defenses and stripped him of his ability to try and think of a counter attack. Dean was pretty sure it was unintentional, but still, it was a little unsettling.

Sam looked for a moment as if he would refuse, but after hesitating for only a moment, he walked around the back of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. Dean got them back on the road again and they drove in silence for a few minutes.

When they bi-passed the turn off for Bobby's place, Sam glanced at him quizzically.

"Where are we going?"

Dean shifted in his seat and carefully avoided looking over at him.

"Thought I'd take you to the river. Have you been there yet?"

Sam shook his head mutely.

"Well I figure it's one of the best places around and if you haven't seen it yet, then it's about time you did."

"Okay then." There was a pregnant pause. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"How did you mean it then?" Dean asked, trying not to tense up too much. It wouldn't do for him to go getting all defensive before they'd actually sorted anything out. The only thing that would achieve was scaring Sam away.

"I just...Sometimes it seems as if I'm getting in your way. I just wanted you to know that if me being around is a problem, I'm more than willing to find another place to stay while I'm here. You've already helped more than what's fair, and I wouldn't hold it against you if you want me gone."

Dean was quiet as he thought about what Sam was saying. In a way he had known that he would be the reason for such an issue. It wasn't a surprise really and Sam wasn't the first person to get scared away by his prickly nature, or his unwillingness to trust another. Now the only obstacle was coming up with the right words to say to set the situation to rights without making it worse. Then maybe they could get down to what was really bothering him.

"It's not you. I'm just...I'm not good with people. You staying is not the problem." Dean told him, struggling with the words.

It seemed that neither his brain nor his mouth were cooperating with him and he cursed silently at his inability to express what was going on inside him. It was one of his greatest failings, it seemed, and one that would probably stick with him until the end of his days.

"Then what is?" Sam asked, his deep voice softer and smoother than anything had the right to be.

Dean was silent as they pulled off the main road and onto a well worn dirt path. Sam didn't seem to be in any particular hurry for an answer. If anything, Sam seemed too patient, and too understanding and that only served to make Dean feel as if he was too inferior to even be considering what he was considering doing with him.

Dean was forced to concentrate on the winding and rough road that led them deep into the towering trees. The moon was bright enough for him to see by, even without his lights, so the going was fairly easy, even with all the holes and dips in the road. Soon enough, the path emerged from the trees into a small, grassy clearing.

"Come on."

Dean hopped out of the truck and started walking, without waiting for Sam to follow but knowing that he would. He topped a small rise that looked down on a long stretch beach that wound itself alongside the river for several miles, he knew. The river itself was wide and fairly deep in the middle, but it was a popular place because the water was so clean and clear. The current of the water was slow and lazy making it the perfect place to relax on hot summer days that seemed to stretch on forever.

It looked especially enchanting at night, with the moon shining on the surface and the sound of the quietly flowing water. A cool breeze rippled through the trees, and Dean felt the serenity of the place reach deep into his soul and calm the raging of his nerves. Sam joined him and they stood together for a moment in silence, just drinking in their surrounds and gathering their thoughts.

"It's not you," Dean said eventually.

He felt Sam looking at him inquisitively. "Then what?"

"Me." Dean gathered up his courage and looked Sam square in the face, meeting his gaze and holding it.

"I'm not the kind of person who hides behind pretty lies and half truths," he said evenly, as his gut clenched and danced painfully. He clenched his hands into fists to hide the way they shook. "And I'm not going to lie to you. I want you. Having you around makes it hard for me to hold myself back from...doing what I want to do to you. So if you're not into that kind of thing then perhaps it's best if you leave. Because I can't guarantee that I'll always be able to control myself around you. And that's the truth."

There was no response from Sam. Dean glanced at him from the corner of his eyes and saw him staring out over the river. He turned around and faced the truck, looking down and fiddling with the keys in his hand.

"You want me to drive you to a motel or something?"

"No. I'd like to stay here for a little while if you don't mind," Sam replied quietly.

"I can wait in the car if you like," Dean told him, trying not to let his disappointment and bitterness show. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been turned down, so it shouldn't have come as quite a big surprise. But with Sam it seemed to hit much closer to home, and made him feel angry and pissed off with himself.

"No. I'd like you to stay. If you want..." Sam said, almost shyly. Dean tried not to let his tone re-ignite the hope that he was trying to let go. So he nodded instead of saying anything, and watched as Sam shot his a quick smile before he walked down onto the beach and looked out over the river.

Dean sat down where he was, content to keep his distance and watch Sam as he tried to patch together his wounded pride. It wasn't something he was going to linger over for too long, he told himself. Better to move on and forget about it than dwell on it.

Though the look in Sam's eyes when he'd smiled at him hinted that all might not be lost. Perhaps he was playing hard to get or something? But on second thought, Sam wasn't the type to play games. He was just a little too jaded, and a little too separate from the normal world to be the type to play people. And watching him, Dean found he could forget about his own loneliness for awhile.

Sam was crouched at the rivers edge, trailing his fingers in the water for a few moments before he picked up a stone and studied it.

There was something innocent and child like about the way Sam was studying the river and picking over the pretty rocks. It fairly warmed Dean's heart, and made him want to protect the little part of Sam that was still able to be curious about the big wide world. Dean had lost that part of himself a long time ago, but it was refreshing to see it in someone like Sam, who was so much like him, yet so different in the same instant.

Pale moonlight was encasing the young man in front of him, dappled through the leaves of the trees about him, and Dean thought to himself that he had never seen such a beautiful sight in a long time.

Suddenly Sam was standing up and walking towards him, purpose in his very stride. Dean watched him warily, looking up as Sam stood over him and extended his hand.

"Come swimming with me."

TBC


A/N: In case any of you were wondering, the truck that Dean drives in this story is the same truck that John drives in Supernatural. Apologies for the shortness of this chapter, but it's just the way the story is writing itself. As always, my stories seem to take on a life of their own. I have no control over them!!!

Thanks for reading!