Disclaimer:Supernatural is not mine. More's the pity. They belong to Kripke Enterprise and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this; I am simply playing in the fantastic sandbox that Kripke created with these two characters.

Synopsis: Samuel Campbell (Sam) is called home from Palo Alto, CA when his father is killed in an accident at the ranch. His sister Gwen remained in the family business, though it was always his father's intention that Sam should run the family business. Her husband Christian has taken over running the business, but the ranch is losing money and since Sam is the sole executor of the estate he is forced to return. Upon returning home, he finds his family's business is a wreck; an unknown corporation is trying to buy them out.

After interviewing several men to take the spot of one of the hands, Sam's foreman Bobby Singer eventually settles on Dean Winchester. This is after the man saves Sam's life in a bar one night. The cowboy brings his own baggage including a small son. He is also running from something in his past that he desperately wants to keep buried.

Warnings: This is an unrelated AU story with Male/Male pairings. If you don't like that sort of thing, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. There is also foul language interspersed throughout the story, so be on the look out for that. Dean and Sam are unrelated in this story, since I don't really write Wincest. But I do like the dynamic between these two characters. ALSO IF YOU READ MY OTHER WINCHESTER STORIES…YOU MAY NOT LIKE THIS ONE. PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS.

Chapter 8

Confessions in an Alcove

A twig pressing painfully into his ass had Sam shifting as he listened to the storm rage outside. Memories of the growing up in Texas and sleeping under stars assaulted him and he inhaled slowly. God I wish I'd had a brother...He loved Gwen. But if he'd had someone like Dean around? Oh man the trouble they could have stirred up. Although then that would make the way he was feeling incest...so NO...just NO...in this case he was glad Dean Winchester was no more related to him than he was to the horse staring at them both.

Sam kept silent vigil as he felt Dean slip off into a restless sleep. The palm of his right hand was splayed over Dean's sternum as he simply felt the limp man breathe. There was a slight hitch to it that was making him nervous. He could feel the solid muscles and the way they pulled over the man's sternum in a mass of warm quivering...he stopped that line of thinking...focusing on their situation.

The rain was still falling, but it was gradually lessening. Rather than the turbulent sideways rain and hail, it was becoming a steady downpour. Every time the lightning flashed he caught a glimpse of the pain etched on Dean's face. But it was the high-pitched wheezing that was starting to make him a little nervous.

Dean was resting against his body, so that his long legs provided additional warmth along the other man's body, at least that's what Sam was telling himself. Mostly he just wanted to touch the other man with every part of his own body that he could. It was a desperate attempt to remind himself that Dean wasn't dead.

The fingers of his left hand were gently carding through the slowly drying hair, while the guard horse was standing just above them. Doc didn't seem too concerned about the fact that a large portion of his body was still outside; his eyes were falling shut as the horse rested. So that means no immediate danger...thank God.

Sam smiled up at the animal. Doc had saved Dean's life and that meant he'd earned a place on this ranch as long as Sam owned it. A slight groan from the rescued storm victim got his attention instantly. Dean's hand snaked it's way out of the blanket and he winced when he touched the painful gash on his face.

"Dean?" Nothing. "Dean...come on man."

"Ugh...mmnn..." Another groan was the only answer as Dean started to shift inside the sleeping-bag-tarp-thing.

Sam looked down and found himself instantly pulled into the man's impossibly deep green eyes. They were fluttering in and out of sight as he blinked several times. Sam shifted backwards and worried as he felt the uncontrolled shivers from Dean's body travel along the lanky muscles. He blinked a few times and then Dean's tongue darted out and licked along his lower lip. Sam's eyes widened at the action. It was so sensual and yet he knew that it was probably only because the other man's lips were dry. It was not an invitation to see what Dean's lips tasted like.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was cracked with fatigue and the blown pupil of his right eye made Sam wince with sympathy. "What the hell happened?" He shifted again and Sam swallowed hard as Dean moved innocently against his own sensitive body. "Feel like I got hit by a Mack Truck."

That made Sam's dimples show. "Nope. A Texas storm actually." His face cleared and he reached up to drag his fingers along Dean's cheek. He couldn't help it.

Dean blinked in confusion.

Probably the concussion. Sam looked down at the man and let his hand fall away. "ZZ chucked you into the river...how much do you remember?" He understood the horses fear, but he was still pissed that it had put Dean in danger. He so easily could have lost Dean today. Dean shook his head in a 'Not much' kinda way. "I'm pretty sure you have a concussion."

"How do you know? You a doctor and a cowboy?" The question was innocent as Dean stared up at him, long eyelashes dropping down before rising ever so slowly.

Sam raised his eyes heavenward and shook his head. "Nope. But I read a lot and because you're having a bit of trouble stringing two coherent sentences together."

Dean chuckled and then moaned when pain echoed between his ears. "I have trouble with that on a normal day. Not a good way to judge me, Sammy." He snuggled deeper into the warmth of the blankets and then grimaced at the pain in his side. "I'm so damn tired."

" .no. You need to stay awake, Dean." Sam took a chance and brushed his fingers through Dean's hair again. It is so soft.

"Mmmm-kay." Dean answered as his eyelids drooped.

"Dean, I'm serious. You gotta stay awake man." The worry was layered into Sam's request and it broke through Dean's lame protests.

"So keep me awake." He said. Dean sighed and shifted so that he could see Sam's face in the low light of the alcove. The water from the rain was running past the opening in rivulets and the wind was finally starting to die down. "That first night…in the bar? Why'd that guy try to bash your pretty head in?"

All Sam heard was that Dean thought he was pretty…he had to force himself to pick up the rest of the question. His heart fluttered like a teenager at the small chance that there may be something here between him and Dean.

"Uh…the guy's name is Jasper Harrison. We went to the same High school." Sam gulped and pressed his lips together as he figured out how to spin this story and still keep it mostly truthful. He didn't want to lie to Dean. Not ever…and that was all he was doing right now…lying.

Dean smiled slightly. A pained shadow fell over his face as the gash on his cheek pulled at the newly formed scab. "I figured there was some history there."

"Yeah…not a very pleasant one. Jasper and I…we...uh... hung out a lot in high school."

"And by 'hung out', you mean…you dated?" Dean tried to clarify. A bolt of jealously caught the injured man off guard as his 'not at all helpful' brain started throwing images of Sam and Jasper in compromising positions at him.

Sam's surprised intake of air before he was protesting only served to strengthen Dean's guess. "What? No!" He scrubbed his long fingers through his hair as he stalled for time. How the hell did he do that? I was supposed to be learning about him?!

"We…uh…got drunk and things got a little…physical." He noticed Dean's surprise and rushed forward, desperate to alleviate the other man's concerns. "Not like that. Just kissed and then nothing…we never really talked about what happened. He and some of his jock friends jumped me and then we all graduated. I left. He stayed. End of story." Sam shrugged.

Dean had struggled up into a sitting position. He was still sitting between Sam's legs, but now he was staring at the other man in horror. "That wasn't the first time he jumped you?" Anger worked its way onto his face and Sam watched in fascination as it darkened into something that could become downright scary.

"It was a long time ago. He just never really dealt with it." Sam was trying to diffuse the situation, because if the look in Dean's eyes was anything to judge by? Jasper Harrison was one dead son of a bitch. "So…I've told you something about me. Your turn."

There was an immediate shift in Dean. He pushed his legs out and leaned back down into the comfort of Sam's lap. His amazing eyes staring up at the other man. "What do you mean?"

Sam raised his eyebrows at that. "What do you mean, 'what do I mean'…I wanna know something about you, Dean Winchester."

"Not much to tell."

"Somehow I really doubt that." Sam reached up and ran his fingers along the soft muzzle of the horse. Dean's eyes followed the action and he sighed, reaching up to scrub a hand down his face. How much can I say...

"Grew up in a big city. Got into a lot of trouble when I was a kid...kinda took me a long time to grow out of it." He blinked as he was transported back into those unpleasant memories.

"Then?" Sam prodded.

"Then Emery happened." That was all he was going to tell Sam. It wasn't that Dean didn't trust Sam. It was that the more Sam knew? The more danger he would be in. And there was no way that Dean was putting this man in any more danger than he already had.

Sam heard the definitive end to that line of questioning. He bit at his lower lip as he debated on asking the 'big question'. The one that was burning a hole in his fucking jeans. "Are you…"

Dean looked up at him and a slow smile worked its way into his face when he saw what Sam wanted to know plastered all over the big kids face. "Am I gay?" He might have a head wound, but he'd seen that question on so many peoples faces over the years that he'd have to be dead to miss it.

Sam gulped and nodded. "I know its not something guys usually ask each other…but…uh…well…" He stopped talking as embarrassment gagged him.

Dean chuckled and then clenched his teeth at the pain it caused. "No Sam. I'm not gay." Sam's heart fell and he sank back against the wall. "Wait…Sam. The answer is complicated. I'm not gay. But I don't quantify attraction to a sex either. I'm either attracted to someone or I'm not. Doesn't matter if that person is male or female." The sudden clarity in Dean's head was gone once he'd gotten the words out. He sagged against Sam's thighs and his head throbbed in pain.

"Really?" Sam questioned.

"Truly. Always been that way…long as I can remember." Dean said with a yawn.

The thunder rolled off in the distance and Dean's gaze jerked in the direction of the sound. His forehead furrowed in worry and he pulled the sleeping bag tighter around himself and Sam's legs.

"Can I ask you one more thing, Dean?" Sam wondered.

"Depends, I might not answer it…fair warning." Dean answered quickly. He wasn't sure how much more of this twenty question game he really wanted to play. Sam already knew more about him than he would prefer.

"Why don't you like the thunder?"

Dean gaped at him in surprise. He actually didn't mind the thunder or the lightning. It was the unexpected claps of thunder that bothered him. "That's a conversation for another time, Sam." His eyelids were starting to get heavy and he was having a hard time focusing on Sam's face. "Sammy…I need to get a little sleep."

Sam wanted to argue. Wanted to argue with every fiber of his being, but Dean's body took the debate out of his hands. The smaller man's eyelids fluttered and he passed out cold as his eyes rolled back. "Dean?" Sam called as he gently rubbed the soft skin of Dean's neck. "Dean!" He repeated louder…still nothing. His fingers dropped down and he exhaled in relief at the steady throbbing pulse. He looked over at the horse, which simply breathed in and out in a rhythmical pattern of boredom.

"Or maybe it's just me that's starting to hate it…" Sam said to no one.

XXXX

A pinch in his side and a full bladder sent Dean racing back to consciousness. The sound of rushing water wasn't helping him at all. His head was resting against something that was simultaneously hard and soft. And it was moving

He forced his eyes open and twisted his head so he could see. At first the only thing he saw was flannel…a lot of flannel. And then the blurriness in his vision faded and he realized that he was looking at a shirt. Sam's shirt. The light was filtering and he had this sneaking suspicion that there had been something there blocking it before…like a horse.

Pain was tripping up and down his spine as he carefully unraveled himself from the burrito blanket and Sam. The taller man was breathing in and out softly, his face relaxed. And while there were definitely some holes in his memory from last night, he remembered that Sam had saved his life.

Dean pushed out of the small alcove and blinked several times while his eyes adjusted to the light. He almost wished they hadn't. The river was raging and it was the color of mud. It was pushing so much silt, debris, and even…animal carcasses…yuck! He grabbed at his side when it throbbed in a reminder that he'd hit a rock the night before. Dean looked down and was grateful not to see any blood. He gently reached down and picked up the edges of his shirt and groaned when he saw the dark bruising.

He hoped that he hadn't damaged anything internally, because the ride back was gonna suck bad enough as it was. Dean's gaze flickered back to the tarp-covered overhand…no Sam. Good. He found a spot that was just behind the large tree that had tried to kill them the night before and relieved himself. He smiled to himself when he saw Doc munching on some dried grass just up from where he was.

At least one of the horses didn't abandon us. He thought. Dean pulled the zipper up and leaned against the tree when an unexpected wave of dizziness caught him off guard.

"Hey…you okay?" Sam's voice rang through the area and Dean spun around to see the man running his fingers through his hair as he yawned.

"You should be asleep."

"We need to get outta here…I can sleep in my own bed." He stretched and then took a closer look at Dean. He looked like crap. The bruising on his face was starting to darken and the gash on his cheek really needed stitches. "That needs to be sewn up." He said as he pointed at Dean's face.

"Chicks dig scars."

Sam raised his eyebrows at the quip and shook his head.

"Besides, there's a problem with your escape plan." His green gaze tracked over to the horse.

"One horse." Sam said.

"Bingo." Dean ignored the massive headache as he watched the wheels in Sam's head start turning. "What?" He saw the minute a plan formed, but the other man was having difficulty putting it into words, based on the sour look on Sam's face. "What man? Come on. Spit it out."

Sam shrugged. "Doc rides double…"

"Come again?" He could not have heard that right.

"The horse…he rides double." Sam repeated sheepishly. It was actually a good plan. But all he could think about was having Dean sitting behind him…for hours. That might actually be the worst idea he'd ever had…or the best…he wasn't sure which.

TBC…

Author's Note: Here's caption from next the next chapter, "The man in black passed the large stone rock pillars to the Texas ranch. This was where Dean Winchester had been seen last. That kid in town, the one with the black eye…he'd been very helpful. One look at the picture of Dean and he'd spilled his guts. Which meant that the child should be here too."

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