“We have to do something about this.” Dean says, but the tone makes it sound more like he just said: “If you’re going to cut off my fingers, do it quickly and with something other than a bu...
It starts raining.
Dean leaves the store at half-past four, his face turned down against the wind and his shoulders hunched, making him look even more oaf-ish than he usually does. Jess snorts. When Dean gets to the car, he fumbles with his keys before looking up - he nearly slips on ice jumping backwards in surprise.
"What the-" He shoves the key forward, missing the lock twice and making Jess snicker from the passenger seat. When he finally gets his coordination in order, Dean yanks the door open, hard. "What the fuck are you doing in my car, Jess?"
His voice perfectly level, Jess replies, "Having a smoke. It's cold outside, don't you think?"
"I." Dean steps back. A hand goes up to his hair, the other clenched tightly at his side. "Right." He breathes out, drops both his arms. "This is just great. Get the fuck out, Jess."
"Make me." Jess lights another cigarette, and he sees Dean's eyes go from the lighter to the mess of cigarettes on his dashboard to the burn marks on the upholstery. He cusses again.
And then he gets into the car, slamming the door with so much force that the whole thing rattles, and starts the engine. Jess blinks. "I hate to kill your boner but even if you dumped my body in the woods you'd probably still get arrested."
"Like anyone would miss you enough to care."
The words sting. Jess takes another drag of his cigarette and tries to make his posture nonchalant as Dean puts the car into drive. He drives them halfway out of the town, past Luke's and a bunch of shops that Jess recognizes but hasn't cared enough to set foot in since the first week of boredom forced him into a scouting of the entire town. The people here are all obnoxious gossips who love to stick their noses in your business.
Dean hasn't said a word since pulling away from the curb, but a muscle in his cheek jumps. Jess watches with half-hearted interest, bored and a little apprehensive. Anyone in their right mind would have slugged him by now, not taken him on a little joyride around Star's Hollow.
When Dean slams on the breaks, Jess's hand smacks the dashboard and "Fuck!" he exclaims. Dean just smiles, the set look on his face pretty much ridiculous because he always acts like some kind of oversized puppy dog, except when Rory's out of sight and he's trying to threaten Jess like he's a mobster in some badly written soap opera. Jess hates soap operas.
"We have to do something about this." Dean says, but the tone makes it sound more like he just said: "If you're going to cut off my fingers, do it quickly and with something other than a butter knife." Or maybe more like: "Jess, I want to bash your head into my glove compartment."
Jess kind of shares the sentiment. He flicks the cigarette butt at Dean's window, imagining the irritation growing on his face even as he keeps his eyes trained on his own knee. "About what?"
"Don't play dumb, you jack ass." Dean unbuckles his seat belt - a model citizen, even in times of peril, Jess thinks with scorn - and presses his body into Jess's space. Jess tries not to flinch.
"About what?" he mocks. "Our unresolved, violent sexual tension?"
And Dean says, "Yes."
There's a moment of silence where Dean is looming in his space and the word is trying to compute in his head, which is pretty stupid because Jess knows a shitload of words and 'yes' is nowhere near the complex end of his vocabulary. So after a moment, he goes "What the-" and then Dean kisses him.
Or more like, ravages his mouth. Kissing is for people like Rory who deserve politeness and mouths touching with closed lips and gentle invitations for more contact. This is Dean's tongue prying into his mouth and his teeth scraping Dean's lip and trying to bite while Dean gets him off balance by pushing him against the window.
Dean shoves hands up against his ribs, squeezing like he wants to break him, and he gasps out, "God, you're so fragile," and Jess replies, "shut the fuck up," and really does bite down on his lip. Dean presses into him, fingers bruising into his skin, and then there's a pause. The air hums around them.
Dean shoves away from Jess. He re-buckles his seatbelt, puts his hands on the steering wheel, and stares forward. Jess coughs. "You forgot to turn the car on."
Dean throws a glare in Jess' direction and turns the key in the ignition. Halfway back to the grocer, driving past Luke's without acknowledging Jess's noise of protest, Dean finally unclenches his jaw.
Jess pulls his last cigarette out of the pack and comments, "You should have driven us all the way out of town, you idiot."