Dean Winchester: 26 years-old

Sam Winchester: 23 years-old

Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.

Puzzle Piece:

BACK IN THE GAME

"Come on, Dean!" Jaz complained for what Dean was pretty sure the 70th time. "I'm sick of digging up the graves of small grade ghost's; I wanna get me some vampires."

"For that last time, NO!" Dean ground out, ready to start throwing punches. "We're gonna keep digging until I say so."

Dean threw that match into the unburied coffin, running a dirty hand through his dirty-blond hair. He really was looking at the idea of punching Jaz, now that he was a guy. But he knew that wouldn't solve anything and he had been the same way when he was a teen. John hardly letting him go on any hunt's and making him go to school instead. But Dean wanted to get Jaz used to his knew body before they went any bigger; it had only been a at least a week since the full moon.

Jaz only spoke when the when the fire finally went out. "Fine, I'll play along, but you can't keep this up forever." he told Dean confidently. "Can we go now?" he said, grabbing the shovel and bag before turning his back on Dean. "I'm hungry and I could use a drink right about now."

Dean sighed as he fallowed; Jaz wasn't a girl any more, but the moods were still there.

Dean watched Jaz from his spot at the bar, feeling the urge to strangle every hot girl that gave him the bedroom eyes. They were in a bar because Jaz wanted to drink and Dean could use one too. He wanted to play some pool, and Jaz. Jaz was sitting at a corner table, reading a God damn book - in a bar. And it wasn't a book pertaining to a hunt, it was a fiction book. A book about warrior cat's or something, and to Dean, that didn't make any sense at all.

But Dean guessed that it better if his attention was on something other than the woman eyeballing him from across the room. Dean knew that Jasmine had been well aware of how hot she was, but he wasn't so sure about Jaz. Every time he glanced up from his book, Dean was sure he looked right at those eyeballing woman each and every time, but he'd just smile politely and go back to his book. The woman would walk away disappointed each and every time and each and every time Dean would smile at her lose. Dean took a swallow of beer and continued to watch Jaz from across the room.

Jaz was starting to get really, very frustrated. He was trying to read a book for God's sake, and every time he glanced up there was a woman. He smiled politely at them at first before going back to his book, but as time wore on it was just getting annoying. Couldn't the tell he wanted nothing to do with them? Jaz didn't want them, he wanted Dean. And he knew that that was one thing he was never going to get, because Dean was straight and over him.

A shadow fell over him and Jaz stifled a sigh as he looked up into the blue eyes of a woman who had been by here multiple times over. Jaz couldn't take this any more; it was like he was being suffocated. This time, he didn't smile politely.

"Hi," Jaz said in a monotone. She smiled at him; he was gonna wipe that right off. "I don't mean to be an ass-hole," he did. "but I have no interest in you, or any other woman in this place. I don't know if you can tell, but I am gay. I like guys and right now, you're just really annoying me."

Her face was frozen in what Jaz called the about-to-slap-you-in-your-face look; he had used it many times before. But he stared her straight in her eyes as her hand came up and made contact with his face. He his jerked a little to the side with the force behind her small hand before she stocked away. Despite the slight sting, Jaz couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. After all that he had been through, he had never once been slapped, ever.

Jaz collected his things, and with a smile still on his face, made his way over to where Dean sat at the bar.

"I think I don't like woman very much," Jaz told Dean as he sat down at the bar.

Dean raised his eye brows, but narrowed them as he saw the redness of Jaz's cheek. Without any thought Dean grabbed Jaz's chin, and turned his face to get a better look at his cheek.

"How the hell did this happen?" Dean demanded.

Jaz just shrugged his shoulders; loving Dean's touch. "I told some girl off,"

Dean couldn't help the grin that split across his face; wishing he could have been there. He was sick of all those chick's crowding his man. Wait, his man? Where the hell had that come form? Dean shook his head; he always loved it when Jaz told people off. Jaz kept the smile on his face as Dean still held his chin, looking him in the eye with an odd expression.

"We should probably head back to the motel," Dean finally said, letting Jaz's chin go. He stood up, swallowed the rest of his beer and slapped down a few bills.

Dean looked up from the TV as Jaz came out of the bathroom, damp and onlt with a single towel around his waist. Watched as Jaz bent down and picked through the duffle on the floor. He pulled out a shirt and stuck it to his nose, jerking it away seconds later.

"Hey, Dean?" Jaz called, hands still sorting through the clothes in the duffle.

"Yeah?" Dean said slowly, still watching Jaz.

Was it starting to get hot in her or what? Dean blew out a slow, calming breath, not able to take his eyes off of Jaz. Jaz was still damp from the shower he just took, all naked except for the one towel around his waist. Bent over the duffle with his ass in the air - the ass that Dean couldn't seem to take his eyes off of. Who knew an ass like that could ever exist.

"Do you have any clean clothes?" Jaz's could bring Dean back out of the gutter.

"Uh, no." Dean said. "All the clothes in my duffle are dirty," he pulled the t-shirt he was wearing to his nose and gave a sniff. "And the one's I'm wearing are almost done for."

"Crap," Jaz cursed. "You're gonna have to do laundry before we leave town."

"Why do I have to?" Dean complained, turning off the TV and chucking the remote on the bed.

"Because," Jaz said, standing up and turning to him

"I am completely out of clothes; I don't even have any underwear."

Dean was silent as he stared at Jaz's bare chest; was it weird that he found it slightly arousing that Jaz didn't have any underwear? Dean shook himself, what the hell was wrong with him? He had never felt this way about a guy before or a girl for that matter. So why was he feeling like this around Jaz? Because it Jaz, stupid; his mind supplied. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, as he focused his gaze back on Jaz's face.

Jaz was giving him a curious look, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"Anyway," Jaz said, adjusting the towel around his waist. Tying the two edges in a knot so it would stay around his waist until he thought otherwise. "I am going to bed," he told Dean, climbing under the sheets.

This seemed to be happening alot lately, Dean thought; not able to tears his gaze away. Again. It's not like it was his fault, it was Jaz's own fault. Yep, it was him and not Dean. It was Jaz's own fault that he had thrown off his blanket during the night. It was Jaz's own fault that he had no clean clothes. It was Jaz's own fault that he hadn't had any underwear and it was Jaz's own fault that he was only in a towel. It was Jaz's own fault that he laid on his stomach and ever so slightly on his side. Jaz's own fault that his arms were under his pillow and his leg bent and pulled towards his chest. And it was all Jaz's fault that Dean got a big eye full of, well, of everything.

And God definitely a very generous man. A very, very generous man.

Dean watched as each piece of clothing tumble round and round; it was hypnotizing. But instead of seeing a mixed tumble of muted color's; all he could see was the image of Jaz on that bed in nothing but a bunched up towel. Round and round; it was oddly soothing though.

The blast of AC/DC from his pocket tore him from the vortex, if only to pull his cell from his pocket and flip it open, not even looking to see who it was; though he assumed that it was Jaz.

"Yeah?" Dean answered.

"Dean?"

"Sam?" Dean said in utter surprise.

"Yeah, it's me." was all he said in return, his voice oddly hard.

"Long time no speak," was all that came out of Dean's own mouth.

"Right. . . " Sam said slowly. "Look, I want back in."

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"I want back into the Hunting game, Dean" Sam clarified unnecessarily.

"What? Joe Collage too boring for you?" Dean smirked.

"No. Just come pick me up, would you?"

Dean was silent for a moment. "No." he said in return.

"What do you mean "no"?" Sam demanded.

"I mean exactly what it mean's, Sam." Dean told his younger brother. "You're not hunting again, ever; I won't allow it."

"Then I'll hunt on my own," Sam threatened.

"Why would you want to come back, Sam? You got out, just like you wanted. And aren't you an Almost Lawyer or something and have a very hot serious girlfriend?" Dean countered.

This time Sam's end was silent.

"Sam? You still there?" Dean sat forward in his chair, worried.

"How do you know all of that?" Sam finally asked.

"What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't check up on you once in a while?"

"And you didn't bother to come talk to me?" Sam demanded.

"You didn't bother to call me once in a while?" Dean returned.

Sam sighed. "Can you just come and get me?"

"Tell me why first." Dean said.

"No, I'll tell you when you get here."

That once sentence was packed so full of emotion, Dean was silent for a second. "Fine; we're done with the hunt here anyway, we'll be there as soon as we can." Dean told him.

"You're still with Jasmine?" Sam asked.

"Yes, we're hunting partners, Sam." was all Dean said. God, how was he supposed to say that Jaz was a guy now to Sam when Dad didn't even know yet. Well, he could just figure it out when they got there.

"Just get here, 'kay?" Sam said before he hung up without so much as a goodbye.

Dean stuck his tongue out at the phone before putting it back in his pocket. Jeez, you thought you knew a guy . . .