Novakfest Exchange Fic-"I'm not the man they think I am at home"---NC17---Dean/Jimmy
Title: I'm not the man they think I am at home...
Author: Electrolitestar
Recipient: sajiwostudios
Characters/Pairings: Jimmy/Dean, mentions of Castiel/Dean, Sam. Mentions of Claire and Amelia.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Well if you never saw "The Rapture" this would all be spoilers. As for warnings there's SMEX and some angsty Dean.
Word Count: 6503
Summary: When Jimmy Novak wakes back up in his own body and his own house 4 years after he gave himself BACK over to Castiel and heaven, he does the only thing he knows to do; Call Dean.
Written for spn_jimmynovak's Novakfest exchange for sajiwostudios who wanted hunter!Jimmy and a Jimmy/Dean "man" date and some funny awesome Sam. I gave you a little bit of all worlds babe! Hope you enjoy it!!!!
Those are your eyes. Blue orbs that many people have told you don’t resemble any one else’s eyes on the planet.
These are your clothes. Same tie you wear to work everyday.
This is your face. You’d know it anywhere.
But something isn’t right. How did you get here?
Back here.
Thank god Amelia is taking Claire to school. How would you have known that if you weren’t…?
Your reflection stares back at you and as conceited as this sounds; and you have never had one ounce of it in your body; you cannot take your eyes off yourself.
It can’t be.
Something has to be wrong.
This has to be a dream. Or…a joke right? Because…you’re dead. You’ve been dead.
You’ve been in heaven, surrounded by your mother that you lost when you were 25 right before Claire had been born. She made her tuna macaroni salad every day and you played scrabble with her. You saw the dark side of the moon at night after she had gone to bed, and never had one regret for what you gave up. What you did for God.
So how is it your back in your house? In your bedroom that you shared with Amelia for 11 years before…
Your heart starts to hammer away in your chest and you break into a cold sweat. Your desperate need for a cut hair sticks to the back of your neck and you feel sick to your stomach. You’re panicking. Because this isn’t right…
You need…
Yeah.
You scramble for the phone on the bedside table, never taking your eyes off your eyes in the full length mirror. There’s only one thing left to do. The only thing that feels right. It should feel right sitting in your house. Who knows how long you were gone this time.
But it doesn’t.
It rings twice and you feel nervous.
What the hell is happening to you?
“Yeah?”
You take a deep breath but no words come out.
“Helllloooo?”
You swallow hard, something other than fear rising in you throat.
“Okay, who the hell is this?”
“Dean?”
“Cas?”
“No. It’s me. It’s Jimmy.”
The line is silent.
“I’m Jimmy.”
6 months later:
Dean is looking at you, but you’re just staring down at the pistol in your hand. He uses them so naturally. He and Sam both. Like they’re writing a letter. Or making a sandwich. Just point and shoot. Don’t hesitate. Don’t look back.
Don’t look back.
That’s what you told yourself six months ago when Dean picked you up outside your house. Before Amelia got home. Before you could see Claire. You had been gone…god knows how long. 4 years is what Dean told you. 4 years this time. How could you just…come back and expect things to be the same? They weren’t the same. You weren’t the same.
You did the right thing. You tell yourself that everyday.
“You did the right thing.”
You look up into Dean’s green eyes. Dean tells you everyday too when he sees this look on your face. This out of place look where perhaps you should be someplace else. If anyone knows anything about leaving people behind it’s Dean. Especially when not being with them is better than being with them. For everyone involved.
You know Dean still thinks of Lisa. You don’t know much about her or about what she and Dean “had” but Sam has filled you in some. You find Dean outside sometimes; when Sam is long past fast asleep and you yourself cannot just like Dean because you’re both thinking about what was. And what could be.
You sit on the hood of the Impala, in the motel parking lot, drink 2 beers each, in silence. You watch the stars, never saying what is going on inside your mind. You both know. No need to say it out loud.
The two of you have become close. Well as close as two people can be in this type of situation. You watch him and Sam. How they are this well oiled and fine working machine. How in sync they are. But you presume that is from being brothers and all the years spent together. You ask Dean once if he and Castiel were close.
You can sense his tension beside you.
He never answered you. He just slid off the Impala and went back inside the room.
“Here...” Dean pulls up a chair in front of you and gently takes the gun from your hand.“You’re loading it wrong. Like this.”
You watch his delicate yet strong hands fasten the clip into place. You wonder if you’ll ever get used to this. Being a hunter. Loading guns. Shooting them.
You used to sell add space for AM radio. You used to have a wife and daughter. You guess you still do.
But then you got chosen. And became an angel’s vessel for a year. Then you died and your soul went to heaven for another four. Now? You’re back. And that in itself, is why Dean is so sad all the time and why Castiel is never brought up in conversation. Why Sam walks on eggshells around him and you since you have returned. And why Dean welcomed you with open arms, giving you a place to stay night after night, food in your stomach and companionship.
The only way you could be back, the only way Jimmy Novak could be back from heaven…alive, is if Castiel were dead.
~~
Dean makes you throw away the suit and tie. In fact he makes you burn it. Like your doing some type of ritual in the name of Castiel. The trench coat gets salvaged. You don’t ask what he did with it. But one day while packing the Impala, Dean’s bag falls open and right there on top is your…Castiel’s…the coat.
Dean finds you holding a piece of it out of the bag when he approaches the Impala. He immediately grabs it from you, stuffing it back down deep into the bag.
“I don’t go through your shit. Don’t go through mine.”
You just stare at him. The pain on his face. The way he’s trying so hard not to lose it at any second.
He doesn’t want you around. He just misses Castiel. Your heart breaks in this realization because Dean’s lost someone he really cared about. And you have grown to care about him a great deal.
You kiss Dean for the first time that day. You take a chance, expecting him to push you away roughly. Possibly even a punch in the face. You knew the possible consequences of this action.
You got none of those. He didn’t kiss back, but you did not end up with a black eye either. When you pull back, he just stares at you blankly, slams the trunk closed and walks back into the hotel.
~~
You talk to Dean. About your life, or what it used to be. He seems interested in who you are. What makes you tick.
But he doesn’t talk about himself. You spend hours on the hood of that Impala, spilling your guts about things you never told anyone else. Things that you did in your wayward youth before you became a man of God. Before you started to believe.
“Do you still believe?” Dean takes a short sip of his beer and raises an eye brow at you.
“I’m not sure how I cannot. I mean, after what I have seen. Where I have been. It’s impossible not to believe.”
“Trust me.” He stares off into the nothing in the parking lot. “It’s easy not to believe. Even with all the things you’ve seen.”
You begin to peel the label off your bottle of bud and take a long deep breath. It’s time. Maybe tonight will be the night. Maybe tonight will be the night Dean Winchester will tell you something about him. The only time he offered up anything about himself is when you told him about the night you lost your virginity. He laughed at your woe story of clumsiness and horror as you attempted to make love to a woman completely out of your league in the back of a 1987 Toyota Camry. He told you all first times are like that, even with the ‘mad skills’ he has. It’s the first time you had seen him laugh since he came and got you.
“I’m…sorry.”
He slowly turns his head and gives you a confused look. “For?”
You close your eyes. “That I’m here. And he’s not.”
You wait for the usual tension. You wait for him to slide off the hood like he always does and head back inside. But he doesn’t. You hear him pop open another bottle and your eyes fall gently on his hands.
“I just wish…I knew why. What happened. I hate…not knowing.”
“Are you only keeping me around…helping me because you think it’s possible I’ll remember?”
He huffs out a small laugh. “I know you won’t remember. We’ve been through this before.”
“Then…why?”
He groans, because we both know him sharing his feelings is not the Dean Winchester way. But maybe it’s the air tonight. Or the way the stars are aligned. Who knows? But he isn’t running. He’s trying.
“Because you’re better than not having him at all.”
~~
At least you knew the truth. You know now that all your assumptions were correct. It’s the same for almost an entire year. You help in hunts when you can, everyday slowly learning the guns, the techniques. Dean and Sam’s style. They helped you. Picked you up when you got hurt. Stitched you up. Sometimes it was Sam. Most of the time, Dean.
Everyday you learned new things about Dean. The bands he liked, none of which you had ever listened to. Foods he enjoyed. You both had a thing for bacon cheeseburgers. The kind of woman he preferred. That department you stayed away from. No matter what you were still married. No matter what, you were still not going to break a commandment.
But the truth is you had already committed a sin. You were having impure thoughts.
Dean tried to get you to ‘hook’ up as he put it with either some truck stop waitress or the bartender in the bar you stopped at for a quick drink. You never did though. And he never pushed.
You fall asleep while watching some horrible reality show with Dean almost one year to the day since you returned to earth. You’re dreaming; you’re in a field filled with so many different types of flowers that you don’t know where one bed ends and one begins. But it’s beautiful. You remember being in a field like this when you were younger. Your parents were driving you to see your grandmother in Oregon. It was a long road trip. But your mother made your father pull over when she saw this field. In the middle of nowhere. Just…there. Like as if placed there by god himself. You ran through the flowers, your mother laughing and taking your picture.
This is the same field you’re in now. The sun is so bright you can barely see, and you can smell all the different aroma’s from the flowers. The wind picks up and blows over your skin.
And then it begins.
The whispers.
The whispers you heard for months before you finally agreed.
It’s the same voice too.
You listen because no matter what, you always listen.
When you awake in a panic, Dean is standing over you, eyes extremely green in the desk lamp light.
“Dude, you okay? You were blabbering away. Who the fuck were you talking to in that noggin of yours?” He pops some popcorn in his mouth and heads back to the bed. You look around the motel; Sam sitting at the table as usual, looking at you with a concerned face.
“You okay, Jimmy?”
You nod and stand, body aching and you’re not sure why. You walk over to the bed, ever so carefully, and Dean looks up at you, mid chew.
“Did you have a nightmare or something? You’re seriously freaking me out right now.”
“He wants me to tell you something.” You tell Dean slowly.
He blinks and puts the bowl of popcorn down on the bedside table. He knows exactly who you mean.
“He…came to me in my dream.”
“He tends to do that.”
You nod, swallowing hard.
“Well?” He looks nervous. Anxious. But he isn’t going to like what you tell him. He isn’t going to like…what you have to say. Because honestly you don’t understand it. It makes no sense. But maybe it does. Maybe it does because how come you remembered Dean Winchester’s phone number the day you woke up alive again when you had never called him in your life? How did you know that Dean sleeps on his stomach? Always.
You’re shaking and Dean reaches out to touch your wrist. It stills you and sends a jolt of electricity through your body. Yeah. All this makes perfect sense now.
“He said…he’s with you. He said he did this for you.”
“Did what? I…is he dead?”
You nod. “Yeah. He’s dead. But I’m alive.”
“Yeah, I got that much.” He’s trying to keep it together but even though he already knew that Castiel was most likely dead, it did not make it any easier for him.
“I’m alive for you.”
He looks up at you and there’s that jolt again.
“He sent me to you. Because he couldn’t be here with you.”
“I don’t…”
“He was killed. But he had arrangements.” You’re having trouble getting this out. It’s…too much.
“If anything happened to him, you were to be resurrected.” Sam offers.
You nod, never taking your eyes off Dean. He turns pale white.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
“You keep saying that. You didn’t kill him.” Dean pushes himself off the bed and begins to pace. “Well I mean its only right, no? He’s…gone so you get to return back into your body? I mean it’s only fair.”
“That isn’t why. I was content in heaven. I accepted my fate. This has nothing to do with me, Dean. It’s you. He didn’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not alone! I have Sam. I mean…”
“He knew.” You whisper.
“Knew what?” Dean challenges.
You don’t answer. You look at Sam who has a pained look on his face, because he knows too.
“KNEW WHAT?” He screams.
“That you loved him.”
Dean shakes his head, pacing more. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He loved you too.”
Dean stops, hands fisted into balls at his side. “Shut up.”
“He did. He thought maybe if you couldn’t have him…”
“What a load of shit.” Dean grabs his jacket off the chair and the motel room quakes as he slams the door.
~~
You learned all you know about hunting from Dean. Sam is a great hunter too, but Dean…his intensity…you’re captivated by it. You hold your gun like him. Break doors down…well attempt to, like him.
And when you all get word of a vampire nest right outside Kansas City, the car ride there is awkward to say the least. None of you have spoken about what took place 2 weeks ago. It’s all business. You and Dean don’t sit on the Impala anymore. Well, you still do. 2am like clock work. But he never joins you anymore.
You’re all fingers to your lips as you approach the shack. You can hear music playing inside; like a bunch of drunken teenagers hiding from their parents. Sam gives you the go ahead and before Dean has a chance to step in front of you, you take all you’ve learned and kick in the door with the new steel toe boots Dean insisted you needed to buy.
Good thing. They work pretty damn well.
Dean’s eyes widen and he’s frozen where he stands by your new hunter like moves. Sam pushes him to bring him back into reality. Dean shakes his head, raises his gun with two hands and you mirror this move.
He’s impressed and even though you are about to go into possible impending doom and danger you find yourself smiling.
You impressed him.
And then there’s nothing but blackness.
~~
“I think he’s waking up.”
“Stupid son of a bitch. Jimmy! JIMMY! Can you hear me?”
Your eyes flutter open, artificial light burning and causing more pain to your already sore and swollen head.
“What…?” You attempt to sit up but two sets of hands push you back down onto the bed.
“Whoooooooooa. No you don’t. Lie down. You took a really bad blow to the head.”
Sam’s voice, as usual, it’s soothing and reassuring.
“What the hell were you thinking kicking in that door like that, Rambo? Jesus Christ.”
Dean’s voice, rough and almost panic stricken, cuts through your head like a stream train.
“Stop talking.” You mumble, rubbing your temples.
You hear Sam chuckle and Dean tells him to shut up as usual.
You must have fallen back asleep because when you awake the light is out and the hotel room is quiet. You carefully sit up, scanning the room to find Sam all tucked in as usual, sound asleep. Dean is no where to be found.
But you know where he is.
It takes you a while to get out of bed and make it outside. Your head is pounding, your body is weak, but the night air actually makes you feel a bit better. His back is to you as he sits on the hood of the Impala; the stars lighting the way to him.
You stand beside him, silent, waiting for him to say something.
It takes a while but he finally faintly whispers into the air.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
“What?”
He looks at you and you realize for the first time in the entire year you’ve been doing this with him, he isn’t drinking.
It’s just you and him. No alcohol to break the fall.
“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad…you’re here. I miss him. Fuck, I miss him so much. But…I’m glad it’s you.”
“I’m not him.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Cause I want to be there for you, Dean. The idea of not being with you now…scares me. But…Castiel is not me. And I’m not him. And I’m afraid…”
“Shut up. Just shut up okay?” He sighs heavily. “I know that, okay? I do. Yeah the freaky looks thing bugs me out, but I know you’re not him. Him doesn’t even really exist. I mean what type of personalities do angels really have? He was obnoxious and rude. He had no people skills. It was embarrassing.”
“And you loved him.”
He doesn’t confirm or deny.
“The point is I want you to know that you aren’t just here because of him. You’re here because I want you here. So does Sam. We’re a team now.”
You smile. “Thank you.”
You don’t speak for the rest of the night. You just count the stars and when you’re too tired to keep your eyes open anymore, he helps you back to bed and makes you take about 10 aspirin. He falls asleep beside you.
~~
Sam is eyeing you across the table. Then he looks at Dean who is scanning a car magazine, and shoving fries into his mouth. You chew your burger slowly, staring at Sam, staring at you.
“What?” You finally ask.
Dean never looks up. He’s used to Sam by now.
“I just find you two amusing.”
You glance at Dean, who takes a large bite of his burger, and concentrating, perhaps a little too hard, on his magazine.
“Amusing?”
Sam nods, poking his salad with a fork.
“I’m not following.”
Sam sighs, setting his fork down gently onto his takeout container. “It’s like the two of you keep walking around the huge elephant in the room.”
Dean groans and rolls his eyes as he turns the page of his magazine.
“You two just need to get it over with already.”
“Get what over with?” You demand.
“If you say ‘get it on’ so help me Sam, you will be drinking that salad through a straw.”
You smile at Dean’s sudden sarcastic outburst.
“And that right there is why I find you two amusing. The smiles. The weird but somehow comforting awkwardness. It’s…just that. Weird.” Sam shuts his container and pushes it across the table. “Don’t not do anything on account of me. I honestly don’t care what you two do. I’d rather have it out in the open than this hiding crap.”
“What hiding? What are we hiding?” You honestly really have no idea what Sam is talking about.
“You don’t think I know Dean sleeps in your bed every night?”
Oh. Yeah. That.
Dean flips the magazine shut. “Is there a point to your little interrogation?”
“Yeah. Take the poor man out on a date already before I throw up. You two make me sick.” Sam pushes his chair back, grabbing his jacket and slams the door.
Dean just rolls his eyes and reaches for the news paper.
~~
You fall asleep somewhere between 4 and 6 pm. You’re dreaming about a church, in the middle of field of dead grass. There are headstones surrounding it. Iron gates, rusted and broken. You feel like you have been here before even though none of it looks familiar to you.
The earth is opening up around you, but it’s like your watching it from above. Like you are out of your body. None of this makes any sense. You have an overwhelming feeling of regret and sadness. You want to reach out to the earth below you; to save it. To capture it up and never let it go.
You’re about to grab a handful of dirt in your hand, just something to hold onto, when you are jolted away. You feel strong hands on your shoulders and you awake, frightened and confused.
Dean is standing over you, coat on, eyes greener than you have ever seen them. He looks half amused, half annoyed. It’s a new look for him.
“Dean…what’s the matter?” You whisper, looking around trying to figure out what time of night…or day it is.
“Get up. We’re going on a date.”
~~
You’re tense. And nervous. And you keep dropping shit. You’re napkin seems to be getting the brunt of it.
“Stop it.” Dean sips his Pepsi through his straw and takes a huge bite of his burger. He shuffles himself on the Impala, trying ever so hard to hide his own nervousness.
“I’m really not sure what we are doing here.” You answer. He can eat anytime, anyplace. You can’t even consider the notion of eating right now; it makes you sick. The moonlight is shimmering off his perfect skin and you want to reach out and touch it. It reminds you of your first date with Amelia. The way her hair glistened in the moonlight as you walked her down along the lake. You held her hand, like a good Christian boy, never once trying to take advantage of her. It stayed that way for months upon months before you even kissed her.
She was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on, that was before Claire was born almost 2 years later. But now, in the moonlight over the parking lot of the Sonic in Idaho, all those beautiful things you once thought were in fact the most beautiful, cannot hold a candle to Dean’s perfect skin.
Claire is your daughter. You love her and think she will always be the most perfect thing in this Universe. But your love for her is different. Different than the love you still feel deep inside your heart for your wife.
And very very different than the love that has grown for the man sitting next to you, stuffing his face with tator tots and bacon cheeseburger, over the last year.
“That makes two of us.” He mumbles.
“Is this about what Sam said? Because listen, we don’t need to do this. I’m not even sure what I feel or why. It’s all very confusing. I mean, I’m married still for all intents and purposes. And sometimes you can just feel close to someone because they help you out or because you’re in tight quarters with them every day, all day. Sometimes what you think you may possibly feel isn’t exactly really what you feel and it’s all just a huge confusion of thoughts and feelings that could potentially turn into a huge mess if…”
His lips are on yours, hot and wet and tasting of bacon. Your eyes are open, but his are closed. He separates his lips over yours, catching his breath and parts your mouth with the tip of his tongue. It’s actually cold probably from his soda and you shudder and you blame it on that and not the fact that the person you had been dreaming things you should never be dreaming these types of things about is kissing you on the hood of a car in a Sonic parking lot.
You have been on much more romantic dates, but yet it’s the best one of your life.
~~
You close the Impala’s doors in unison and he smirks at you as he comes over to the passenger side.
“So...” You start.
He shrugs and leans against the metal, looking up at the clear sky. Not a star in sight.
“So Sam can quit bitching now.”
Your heart sinks. You knew it. You knew it was about Sam.
“Yeah. I guess he can.” You push yourself off the Impala and take a few steps toward the room. Dean grips your arm by your elbow, pulling you back to him. His hands find the sides of your face and there are his lips again, engulfing yours as if he wants to swallow you whole. You give in this time, clutching the back of his jacket, breathing hard through your nose and making tiny whimpering sounds as you experience the types of kisses you never had before you became an angel’s vessel. The type of kisses you never would have experienced unless you had become an angels vessel.
And for the first time since Castiel took over your body nearly 6 years ago, you’re grateful. You thank the heavens above this happened. For the first time you don’t miss your family nearly as much. You don’t have all those regrets eating at your soul every chance they get to surface. Right now you are getting your wish. The wish to have Dean Winchester close enough to you to be able to feel how soft his skin is. His hands are rough from years of hunting and living, but they feel amazing scraping across your cheeks as he kisses you over and over, tongues tangled and limbs intertwined. Everything about this moment is everything you wanted.
You’re not sure how he did it, but the back door to the Impala is open and he’s pushing you down into it. You plop down onto the leather and look up at him as he is untangling his arms from his jacket. He throws it into the front passenger seat and pushes you across the cold seat to the other side. He slams the door shut and is kissing you again before you have a chance to ask him exactly what he thinks he is doing.
Between kisses and gropes and unbuckling of belts, you find a way to speak.
“Why are we doing this here? There’s a perfectly good bed inside the hotel.”
He chuckles, snapping his belt out of his belt loops with a loud ‘crack’. “Because I’m a screamer."
~~
You never once thought about being intimate with a man. Not once ever. The thought never crossed your mind. You were always attracted to women. You loved your wife.
But perhaps having Castiel inside you all that time, and his intense feelings for Dean somehow…seeped into you as Jimmy Novak. And the only way you are rationalizing this; Dean above you, undoing your jeans, zipping down your fly every so gently, his cold hands hitting parts of you not touched by another soul in years upon years; is that if Castiel, an angel of the lord, can be in love with Dean Winchester, than it was okay for you, Jimmy, a human man, to be as well.
You crane your neck and kiss him and he seems a bit surprised because this is the first time you have initiated a kiss with him tonight. But, what’s to lose now?
He runs his fingers down your bare chest and you shudder. You’re not cold. In fact it’s incredibly hot in the Impala; Dean’s body weight causing you to sweat in places you didn’t know you could. You touch the side of his face and Dean stills for a moment. He looks into your eyes; his playfulness and flirty side subsiding.
“Dean.” You whisper.
He swallows hard and for a moment you think you may have gone too far. You may have been too personal. You know Dean Winchester is all about sex. But the second you get too emotional, he’s out the door. So far the night has been in his hands; everything according to his plan.
But now you’re touching his cheek, looking into his eyes. Trying to connect with him in ways you aren’t sure he is still able to.
“I’m glad it’s you.” He whispers.
You bite your bottom lip to keep from getting over emotional. You pull his face down to yours and kiss him.
~~
The back of a car isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to have sex, but you know, somehow, it means more to Dean than you will ever know. This car is his baby, his everything, other than Sam, and to allow himself to intimate with someone in the back seat of it, you know you’ve hit the big time.
It was awkward the way you both got all your clothes off. You laughed and bumped heads and even groaned in annoyance a few times.
But it’s amazing. You never thought you’d feel this way. You never thought after all pain and sorrow. All the things you had to give up; all the things that make no sense, past and present, all disappear the second his nose bumps yours. The fleeting moment where his fingers intertwine with yours as his most intimate parts of his body interact with yours. You want to cry; for so many reasons.
You want to cry in sadness as you always thought the person you’d be this close to would be Amelia for the rest of your life.
You want to scream because you still have way back in the darkest corners of your mind still think that the only reason he is above you; kissing you, touching you in ways you weren’t even sure two people COULD touch; is because you look and sound just like someone he lost.
And you want to hold onto him for dear life. Afraid that this moment will pass too soon and you won’t enjoy it the way you should. That your mind is racing a thousand miles an hour and you’re not just taking it for what it is. Not soaking in every millisecond of his skin on yours. The way he lets out tiny sighs when your warm fingers sprawl across his back. The way the moonlight reflects in his too green eyes and he nudges your nose with his to make you lift your mouth to his again and again.
You would think that if what’s happened to you; being an angel’s vessel, dying, going to heaven, staring into the eyes of your maker, and losing your family not once but twice; you’d be able to seize every moment as they come. But you can’t. All those experiences just make you more vulnerable. More prone to run screaming from anything could possibly make you happy. Cause what’s the point? It can all be taken from you in a moment. And you cannot stand losing again. Not something this close to you. Not something that could possibly save you in ways you didn’t even know you needing saving with.
When he’s finally inside you, the pain and pleasure all roll into one wave of emotion that you can feel from every pore on your body. You tremble and claw and make noises you weren’t even sure humans made, but the things you and Dean are doing right now you aren’t even sure humans should, could or can do. But you’re doing them. He’s in in in and you’re pulling pulling pulling, unable to let go. His hand is inside yours; rubbing his thumb over yours, kissing your mouth, neck and any patch of skin he can get to in the weird and uncomfortable position he has you in.
When you both fall over the edge, you find yourself biting down on his shoulder to keep from moaning too loud. Dean on the other hand was not lying when he said he’s a screamer. He groans, and growls and makes so many animalistic noises it makes you blush. You’re making him feel this way. You’re the cause of these ungodly noises and it makes you shake at the thought that you could be the reason behind anything anymore.
He presses his lips to your ear, breathing heavily as he rocks inside you and you’re whimpering and clawing at his skin. He takes a deep breath.
“Jimmy…”
You squeeze your eyes shut because you’re about to lose any control you have managed to keep. You shake your head because if he continues to speak you will cry and men don’t cry, right? Not when they are having sex with other men. You aren’t even sure if Dean cries. Probably not, right? He’s like the toughest person you know.
“Jimmy…” he starts again and he moves his head; his unshaven cheek scraping against yours until he is looking into your eyes.
He opens his mouth and you wait for the rug to be swept out from underneath you.
Or for your life to really begin.
Suddenly a rush of cold air hits your bare legs and crevices of your ass and you make a squeaking noise you are definitely not proud of.
Dean growls and mumbles obscenities underneath his breath as he looks over his shoulder to an open mouthed and wide eyed Sam Winchester.
“OH MY GOD. I’M BLIND.” Sam screams.
“Close the fucking door, dude. Jesus Christ.” Dean yells. You cover your face with your hands and try to disappear. It isn’t working though. You’re not Castiel after all.
“Dude. You cannot be comfortable in there. Take your naked and gay asses into the room. I’m going for a drive.” Sam pauses and makes a ‘gagging’ motion. “Scratch that. Walk. I’m going for a walk. I’m not sure I can ever sit in this car again.”
The Impala door slams shut and it’s you and Dean again. He pries your hands away from your face and when you open your eyes he’s smiling.
“We’ve been caught.”
“I think I’m going to throw up.” You confess.
“Oh stop. You're being over dramatic.”
You realize he’s still inside you and hard and god he feels so amazing.
“Are we really going into the room?” You whisper.
An evil smile creeps against his lips. “Nah. You haven’t had sex with me unless you’ve had sex in my baby.”
~~
6 months later:
You shove the clip into place and glide your gun into your back pocket with ease. Dean’s eyes twinkle as he smirks at you, reaching out and patting the spot where your gun will now reside for the next little while. It’s his way and you’ve grown accustomed to it.
Sam tosses you a canteen of holy water and you catch it without blinking, slinging it over your shoulder. This will be an easy hunt. Just a few demons; nothing you all can’t handle.
You’re a hunter now. Full on. Dean has spent numerous hours teaching you things and giving you knowledge from John Winchesters journal. He taught you the right way to shoot a gun and the wrong way to stab Ruby’s knife through a demon. He quizzed you on things that live in closets as opposed to what could be living underneath beds. He rewarded you with insanely good sex when you got all the questions right and you had to be his willing slave when you were incorrect which, he must know, wasn’t really punishment.
Sam had become like a brother to you over these last six months; being a shoulder to lean on and someone to laugh with about life. It was no secret Sam was the more sensitive one, so even though you were happy with Dean and the life you now lead, Sam was the one who understood when you saw a Father and Mother out with their daughter why you needed a few minutes alone to gather yourself together. Sam was the one who drove you to Pontiac to sit in on Claire’s high school graduation, all the way in the back so no one would see you. Dean never asked where you were or why you needed to go. He understood and supported you, but could never muster up enough courage to talk to you about it. Sam told you he blames himself for you not being able to be a normal father and husband to Amelia and Claire; thinking he is the reason you had to become Castiel’s vessel to begin with. That night he climbed into bed with Dean; running your hand down his bare chest. He looked at you; green eyes blazing in the light from the motel bedside table and you kissed him, trying to tell him in that kiss everything you couldn’t say out loud. That you were here because you wanted to be. That Castiel had nothing to do with it anymore. That you belonged to him.
And that you loved him.
You had had sex with Dean many times leading up to that night. But that night, as corny and yes gay as it sounds, Dean made love to you. He told you in his touches and whispers what you know he had the hardest time saying.
You awake from your daydream to Dean snapping his fingers in front of your face. “You with me Major Tom?”
You smile, shaking your head and bump his shoulder. “Shut up.”
“You two done flirting? We have work to do.” Sam smirks, slamming the trunk closed.
You follow the two brothers, fingers curled around Ruby’s knife and your heart around Dean, waiting for whatever lies ahead.
Author: Electrolitestar
Recipient: sajiwostudios
Characters/Pairings: Jimmy/Dean, mentions of Castiel/Dean, Sam. Mentions of Claire and Amelia.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Well if you never saw "The Rapture" this would all be spoilers. As for warnings there's SMEX and some angsty Dean.
Word Count: 6503
Summary: When Jimmy Novak wakes back up in his own body and his own house 4 years after he gave himself BACK over to Castiel and heaven, he does the only thing he knows to do; Call Dean.
Written for spn_jimmynovak's Novakfest exchange for sajiwostudios who wanted hunter!Jimmy and a Jimmy/Dean "man" date and some funny awesome Sam. I gave you a little bit of all worlds babe! Hope you enjoy it!!!!
Those are your eyes. Blue orbs that many people have told you don’t resemble any one else’s eyes on the planet.
These are your clothes. Same tie you wear to work everyday.
This is your face. You’d know it anywhere.
But something isn’t right. How did you get here?
Back here.
Thank god Amelia is taking Claire to school. How would you have known that if you weren’t…?
Your reflection stares back at you and as conceited as this sounds; and you have never had one ounce of it in your body; you cannot take your eyes off yourself.
It can’t be.
Something has to be wrong.
This has to be a dream. Or…a joke right? Because…you’re dead. You’ve been dead.
You’ve been in heaven, surrounded by your mother that you lost when you were 25 right before Claire had been born. She made her tuna macaroni salad every day and you played scrabble with her. You saw the dark side of the moon at night after she had gone to bed, and never had one regret for what you gave up. What you did for God.
So how is it your back in your house? In your bedroom that you shared with Amelia for 11 years before…
Your heart starts to hammer away in your chest and you break into a cold sweat. Your desperate need for a cut hair sticks to the back of your neck and you feel sick to your stomach. You’re panicking. Because this isn’t right…
You need…
Yeah.
You scramble for the phone on the bedside table, never taking your eyes off your eyes in the full length mirror. There’s only one thing left to do. The only thing that feels right. It should feel right sitting in your house. Who knows how long you were gone this time.
But it doesn’t.
It rings twice and you feel nervous.
What the hell is happening to you?
“Yeah?”
You take a deep breath but no words come out.
“Helllloooo?”
You swallow hard, something other than fear rising in you throat.
“Okay, who the hell is this?”
“Dean?”
“Cas?”
“No. It’s me. It’s Jimmy.”
The line is silent.
“I’m Jimmy.”
6 months later:
Dean is looking at you, but you’re just staring down at the pistol in your hand. He uses them so naturally. He and Sam both. Like they’re writing a letter. Or making a sandwich. Just point and shoot. Don’t hesitate. Don’t look back.
Don’t look back.
That’s what you told yourself six months ago when Dean picked you up outside your house. Before Amelia got home. Before you could see Claire. You had been gone…god knows how long. 4 years is what Dean told you. 4 years this time. How could you just…come back and expect things to be the same? They weren’t the same. You weren’t the same.
You did the right thing. You tell yourself that everyday.
“You did the right thing.”
You look up into Dean’s green eyes. Dean tells you everyday too when he sees this look on your face. This out of place look where perhaps you should be someplace else. If anyone knows anything about leaving people behind it’s Dean. Especially when not being with them is better than being with them. For everyone involved.
You know Dean still thinks of Lisa. You don’t know much about her or about what she and Dean “had” but Sam has filled you in some. You find Dean outside sometimes; when Sam is long past fast asleep and you yourself cannot just like Dean because you’re both thinking about what was. And what could be.
You sit on the hood of the Impala, in the motel parking lot, drink 2 beers each, in silence. You watch the stars, never saying what is going on inside your mind. You both know. No need to say it out loud.
The two of you have become close. Well as close as two people can be in this type of situation. You watch him and Sam. How they are this well oiled and fine working machine. How in sync they are. But you presume that is from being brothers and all the years spent together. You ask Dean once if he and Castiel were close.
You can sense his tension beside you.
He never answered you. He just slid off the Impala and went back inside the room.
“Here...” Dean pulls up a chair in front of you and gently takes the gun from your hand.“You’re loading it wrong. Like this.”
You watch his delicate yet strong hands fasten the clip into place. You wonder if you’ll ever get used to this. Being a hunter. Loading guns. Shooting them.
You used to sell add space for AM radio. You used to have a wife and daughter. You guess you still do.
But then you got chosen. And became an angel’s vessel for a year. Then you died and your soul went to heaven for another four. Now? You’re back. And that in itself, is why Dean is so sad all the time and why Castiel is never brought up in conversation. Why Sam walks on eggshells around him and you since you have returned. And why Dean welcomed you with open arms, giving you a place to stay night after night, food in your stomach and companionship.
The only way you could be back, the only way Jimmy Novak could be back from heaven…alive, is if Castiel were dead.
~~
Dean makes you throw away the suit and tie. In fact he makes you burn it. Like your doing some type of ritual in the name of Castiel. The trench coat gets salvaged. You don’t ask what he did with it. But one day while packing the Impala, Dean’s bag falls open and right there on top is your…Castiel’s…the coat.
Dean finds you holding a piece of it out of the bag when he approaches the Impala. He immediately grabs it from you, stuffing it back down deep into the bag.
“I don’t go through your shit. Don’t go through mine.”
You just stare at him. The pain on his face. The way he’s trying so hard not to lose it at any second.
He doesn’t want you around. He just misses Castiel. Your heart breaks in this realization because Dean’s lost someone he really cared about. And you have grown to care about him a great deal.
You kiss Dean for the first time that day. You take a chance, expecting him to push you away roughly. Possibly even a punch in the face. You knew the possible consequences of this action.
You got none of those. He didn’t kiss back, but you did not end up with a black eye either. When you pull back, he just stares at you blankly, slams the trunk closed and walks back into the hotel.
~~
You talk to Dean. About your life, or what it used to be. He seems interested in who you are. What makes you tick.
But he doesn’t talk about himself. You spend hours on the hood of that Impala, spilling your guts about things you never told anyone else. Things that you did in your wayward youth before you became a man of God. Before you started to believe.
“Do you still believe?” Dean takes a short sip of his beer and raises an eye brow at you.
“I’m not sure how I cannot. I mean, after what I have seen. Where I have been. It’s impossible not to believe.”
“Trust me.” He stares off into the nothing in the parking lot. “It’s easy not to believe. Even with all the things you’ve seen.”
You begin to peel the label off your bottle of bud and take a long deep breath. It’s time. Maybe tonight will be the night. Maybe tonight will be the night Dean Winchester will tell you something about him. The only time he offered up anything about himself is when you told him about the night you lost your virginity. He laughed at your woe story of clumsiness and horror as you attempted to make love to a woman completely out of your league in the back of a 1987 Toyota Camry. He told you all first times are like that, even with the ‘mad skills’ he has. It’s the first time you had seen him laugh since he came and got you.
“I’m…sorry.”
He slowly turns his head and gives you a confused look. “For?”
You close your eyes. “That I’m here. And he’s not.”
You wait for the usual tension. You wait for him to slide off the hood like he always does and head back inside. But he doesn’t. You hear him pop open another bottle and your eyes fall gently on his hands.
“I just wish…I knew why. What happened. I hate…not knowing.”
“Are you only keeping me around…helping me because you think it’s possible I’ll remember?”
He huffs out a small laugh. “I know you won’t remember. We’ve been through this before.”
“Then…why?”
He groans, because we both know him sharing his feelings is not the Dean Winchester way. But maybe it’s the air tonight. Or the way the stars are aligned. Who knows? But he isn’t running. He’s trying.
“Because you’re better than not having him at all.”
~~
At least you knew the truth. You know now that all your assumptions were correct. It’s the same for almost an entire year. You help in hunts when you can, everyday slowly learning the guns, the techniques. Dean and Sam’s style. They helped you. Picked you up when you got hurt. Stitched you up. Sometimes it was Sam. Most of the time, Dean.
Everyday you learned new things about Dean. The bands he liked, none of which you had ever listened to. Foods he enjoyed. You both had a thing for bacon cheeseburgers. The kind of woman he preferred. That department you stayed away from. No matter what you were still married. No matter what, you were still not going to break a commandment.
But the truth is you had already committed a sin. You were having impure thoughts.
Dean tried to get you to ‘hook’ up as he put it with either some truck stop waitress or the bartender in the bar you stopped at for a quick drink. You never did though. And he never pushed.
You fall asleep while watching some horrible reality show with Dean almost one year to the day since you returned to earth. You’re dreaming; you’re in a field filled with so many different types of flowers that you don’t know where one bed ends and one begins. But it’s beautiful. You remember being in a field like this when you were younger. Your parents were driving you to see your grandmother in Oregon. It was a long road trip. But your mother made your father pull over when she saw this field. In the middle of nowhere. Just…there. Like as if placed there by god himself. You ran through the flowers, your mother laughing and taking your picture.
This is the same field you’re in now. The sun is so bright you can barely see, and you can smell all the different aroma’s from the flowers. The wind picks up and blows over your skin.
And then it begins.
The whispers.
The whispers you heard for months before you finally agreed.
It’s the same voice too.
You listen because no matter what, you always listen.
When you awake in a panic, Dean is standing over you, eyes extremely green in the desk lamp light.
“Dude, you okay? You were blabbering away. Who the fuck were you talking to in that noggin of yours?” He pops some popcorn in his mouth and heads back to the bed. You look around the motel; Sam sitting at the table as usual, looking at you with a concerned face.
“You okay, Jimmy?”
You nod and stand, body aching and you’re not sure why. You walk over to the bed, ever so carefully, and Dean looks up at you, mid chew.
“Did you have a nightmare or something? You’re seriously freaking me out right now.”
“He wants me to tell you something.” You tell Dean slowly.
He blinks and puts the bowl of popcorn down on the bedside table. He knows exactly who you mean.
“He…came to me in my dream.”
“He tends to do that.”
You nod, swallowing hard.
“Well?” He looks nervous. Anxious. But he isn’t going to like what you tell him. He isn’t going to like…what you have to say. Because honestly you don’t understand it. It makes no sense. But maybe it does. Maybe it does because how come you remembered Dean Winchester’s phone number the day you woke up alive again when you had never called him in your life? How did you know that Dean sleeps on his stomach? Always.
You’re shaking and Dean reaches out to touch your wrist. It stills you and sends a jolt of electricity through your body. Yeah. All this makes perfect sense now.
“He said…he’s with you. He said he did this for you.”
“Did what? I…is he dead?”
You nod. “Yeah. He’s dead. But I’m alive.”
“Yeah, I got that much.” He’s trying to keep it together but even though he already knew that Castiel was most likely dead, it did not make it any easier for him.
“I’m alive for you.”
He looks up at you and there’s that jolt again.
“He sent me to you. Because he couldn’t be here with you.”
“I don’t…”
“He was killed. But he had arrangements.” You’re having trouble getting this out. It’s…too much.
“If anything happened to him, you were to be resurrected.” Sam offers.
You nod, never taking your eyes off Dean. He turns pale white.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
“You keep saying that. You didn’t kill him.” Dean pushes himself off the bed and begins to pace. “Well I mean its only right, no? He’s…gone so you get to return back into your body? I mean it’s only fair.”
“That isn’t why. I was content in heaven. I accepted my fate. This has nothing to do with me, Dean. It’s you. He didn’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not alone! I have Sam. I mean…”
“He knew.” You whisper.
“Knew what?” Dean challenges.
You don’t answer. You look at Sam who has a pained look on his face, because he knows too.
“KNEW WHAT?” He screams.
“That you loved him.”
Dean shakes his head, pacing more. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He loved you too.”
Dean stops, hands fisted into balls at his side. “Shut up.”
“He did. He thought maybe if you couldn’t have him…”
“What a load of shit.” Dean grabs his jacket off the chair and the motel room quakes as he slams the door.
~~
You learned all you know about hunting from Dean. Sam is a great hunter too, but Dean…his intensity…you’re captivated by it. You hold your gun like him. Break doors down…well attempt to, like him.
And when you all get word of a vampire nest right outside Kansas City, the car ride there is awkward to say the least. None of you have spoken about what took place 2 weeks ago. It’s all business. You and Dean don’t sit on the Impala anymore. Well, you still do. 2am like clock work. But he never joins you anymore.
You’re all fingers to your lips as you approach the shack. You can hear music playing inside; like a bunch of drunken teenagers hiding from their parents. Sam gives you the go ahead and before Dean has a chance to step in front of you, you take all you’ve learned and kick in the door with the new steel toe boots Dean insisted you needed to buy.
Good thing. They work pretty damn well.
Dean’s eyes widen and he’s frozen where he stands by your new hunter like moves. Sam pushes him to bring him back into reality. Dean shakes his head, raises his gun with two hands and you mirror this move.
He’s impressed and even though you are about to go into possible impending doom and danger you find yourself smiling.
You impressed him.
And then there’s nothing but blackness.
~~
“I think he’s waking up.”
“Stupid son of a bitch. Jimmy! JIMMY! Can you hear me?”
Your eyes flutter open, artificial light burning and causing more pain to your already sore and swollen head.
“What…?” You attempt to sit up but two sets of hands push you back down onto the bed.
“Whoooooooooa. No you don’t. Lie down. You took a really bad blow to the head.”
Sam’s voice, as usual, it’s soothing and reassuring.
“What the hell were you thinking kicking in that door like that, Rambo? Jesus Christ.”
Dean’s voice, rough and almost panic stricken, cuts through your head like a stream train.
“Stop talking.” You mumble, rubbing your temples.
You hear Sam chuckle and Dean tells him to shut up as usual.
You must have fallen back asleep because when you awake the light is out and the hotel room is quiet. You carefully sit up, scanning the room to find Sam all tucked in as usual, sound asleep. Dean is no where to be found.
But you know where he is.
It takes you a while to get out of bed and make it outside. Your head is pounding, your body is weak, but the night air actually makes you feel a bit better. His back is to you as he sits on the hood of the Impala; the stars lighting the way to him.
You stand beside him, silent, waiting for him to say something.
It takes a while but he finally faintly whispers into the air.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
“What?”
He looks at you and you realize for the first time in the entire year you’ve been doing this with him, he isn’t drinking.
It’s just you and him. No alcohol to break the fall.
“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad…you’re here. I miss him. Fuck, I miss him so much. But…I’m glad it’s you.”
“I’m not him.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Cause I want to be there for you, Dean. The idea of not being with you now…scares me. But…Castiel is not me. And I’m not him. And I’m afraid…”
“Shut up. Just shut up okay?” He sighs heavily. “I know that, okay? I do. Yeah the freaky looks thing bugs me out, but I know you’re not him. Him doesn’t even really exist. I mean what type of personalities do angels really have? He was obnoxious and rude. He had no people skills. It was embarrassing.”
“And you loved him.”
He doesn’t confirm or deny.
“The point is I want you to know that you aren’t just here because of him. You’re here because I want you here. So does Sam. We’re a team now.”
You smile. “Thank you.”
You don’t speak for the rest of the night. You just count the stars and when you’re too tired to keep your eyes open anymore, he helps you back to bed and makes you take about 10 aspirin. He falls asleep beside you.
~~
Sam is eyeing you across the table. Then he looks at Dean who is scanning a car magazine, and shoving fries into his mouth. You chew your burger slowly, staring at Sam, staring at you.
“What?” You finally ask.
Dean never looks up. He’s used to Sam by now.
“I just find you two amusing.”
You glance at Dean, who takes a large bite of his burger, and concentrating, perhaps a little too hard, on his magazine.
“Amusing?”
Sam nods, poking his salad with a fork.
“I’m not following.”
Sam sighs, setting his fork down gently onto his takeout container. “It’s like the two of you keep walking around the huge elephant in the room.”
Dean groans and rolls his eyes as he turns the page of his magazine.
“You two just need to get it over with already.”
“Get what over with?” You demand.
“If you say ‘get it on’ so help me Sam, you will be drinking that salad through a straw.”
You smile at Dean’s sudden sarcastic outburst.
“And that right there is why I find you two amusing. The smiles. The weird but somehow comforting awkwardness. It’s…just that. Weird.” Sam shuts his container and pushes it across the table. “Don’t not do anything on account of me. I honestly don’t care what you two do. I’d rather have it out in the open than this hiding crap.”
“What hiding? What are we hiding?” You honestly really have no idea what Sam is talking about.
“You don’t think I know Dean sleeps in your bed every night?”
Oh. Yeah. That.
Dean flips the magazine shut. “Is there a point to your little interrogation?”
“Yeah. Take the poor man out on a date already before I throw up. You two make me sick.” Sam pushes his chair back, grabbing his jacket and slams the door.
Dean just rolls his eyes and reaches for the news paper.
~~
You fall asleep somewhere between 4 and 6 pm. You’re dreaming about a church, in the middle of field of dead grass. There are headstones surrounding it. Iron gates, rusted and broken. You feel like you have been here before even though none of it looks familiar to you.
The earth is opening up around you, but it’s like your watching it from above. Like you are out of your body. None of this makes any sense. You have an overwhelming feeling of regret and sadness. You want to reach out to the earth below you; to save it. To capture it up and never let it go.
You’re about to grab a handful of dirt in your hand, just something to hold onto, when you are jolted away. You feel strong hands on your shoulders and you awake, frightened and confused.
Dean is standing over you, coat on, eyes greener than you have ever seen them. He looks half amused, half annoyed. It’s a new look for him.
“Dean…what’s the matter?” You whisper, looking around trying to figure out what time of night…or day it is.
“Get up. We’re going on a date.”
~~
You’re tense. And nervous. And you keep dropping shit. You’re napkin seems to be getting the brunt of it.
“Stop it.” Dean sips his Pepsi through his straw and takes a huge bite of his burger. He shuffles himself on the Impala, trying ever so hard to hide his own nervousness.
“I’m really not sure what we are doing here.” You answer. He can eat anytime, anyplace. You can’t even consider the notion of eating right now; it makes you sick. The moonlight is shimmering off his perfect skin and you want to reach out and touch it. It reminds you of your first date with Amelia. The way her hair glistened in the moonlight as you walked her down along the lake. You held her hand, like a good Christian boy, never once trying to take advantage of her. It stayed that way for months upon months before you even kissed her.
She was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on, that was before Claire was born almost 2 years later. But now, in the moonlight over the parking lot of the Sonic in Idaho, all those beautiful things you once thought were in fact the most beautiful, cannot hold a candle to Dean’s perfect skin.
Claire is your daughter. You love her and think she will always be the most perfect thing in this Universe. But your love for her is different. Different than the love you still feel deep inside your heart for your wife.
And very very different than the love that has grown for the man sitting next to you, stuffing his face with tator tots and bacon cheeseburger, over the last year.
“That makes two of us.” He mumbles.
“Is this about what Sam said? Because listen, we don’t need to do this. I’m not even sure what I feel or why. It’s all very confusing. I mean, I’m married still for all intents and purposes. And sometimes you can just feel close to someone because they help you out or because you’re in tight quarters with them every day, all day. Sometimes what you think you may possibly feel isn’t exactly really what you feel and it’s all just a huge confusion of thoughts and feelings that could potentially turn into a huge mess if…”
His lips are on yours, hot and wet and tasting of bacon. Your eyes are open, but his are closed. He separates his lips over yours, catching his breath and parts your mouth with the tip of his tongue. It’s actually cold probably from his soda and you shudder and you blame it on that and not the fact that the person you had been dreaming things you should never be dreaming these types of things about is kissing you on the hood of a car in a Sonic parking lot.
You have been on much more romantic dates, but yet it’s the best one of your life.
~~
You close the Impala’s doors in unison and he smirks at you as he comes over to the passenger side.
“So...” You start.
He shrugs and leans against the metal, looking up at the clear sky. Not a star in sight.
“So Sam can quit bitching now.”
Your heart sinks. You knew it. You knew it was about Sam.
“Yeah. I guess he can.” You push yourself off the Impala and take a few steps toward the room. Dean grips your arm by your elbow, pulling you back to him. His hands find the sides of your face and there are his lips again, engulfing yours as if he wants to swallow you whole. You give in this time, clutching the back of his jacket, breathing hard through your nose and making tiny whimpering sounds as you experience the types of kisses you never had before you became an angel’s vessel. The type of kisses you never would have experienced unless you had become an angels vessel.
And for the first time since Castiel took over your body nearly 6 years ago, you’re grateful. You thank the heavens above this happened. For the first time you don’t miss your family nearly as much. You don’t have all those regrets eating at your soul every chance they get to surface. Right now you are getting your wish. The wish to have Dean Winchester close enough to you to be able to feel how soft his skin is. His hands are rough from years of hunting and living, but they feel amazing scraping across your cheeks as he kisses you over and over, tongues tangled and limbs intertwined. Everything about this moment is everything you wanted.
You’re not sure how he did it, but the back door to the Impala is open and he’s pushing you down into it. You plop down onto the leather and look up at him as he is untangling his arms from his jacket. He throws it into the front passenger seat and pushes you across the cold seat to the other side. He slams the door shut and is kissing you again before you have a chance to ask him exactly what he thinks he is doing.
Between kisses and gropes and unbuckling of belts, you find a way to speak.
“Why are we doing this here? There’s a perfectly good bed inside the hotel.”
He chuckles, snapping his belt out of his belt loops with a loud ‘crack’. “Because I’m a screamer."
~~
You never once thought about being intimate with a man. Not once ever. The thought never crossed your mind. You were always attracted to women. You loved your wife.
But perhaps having Castiel inside you all that time, and his intense feelings for Dean somehow…seeped into you as Jimmy Novak. And the only way you are rationalizing this; Dean above you, undoing your jeans, zipping down your fly every so gently, his cold hands hitting parts of you not touched by another soul in years upon years; is that if Castiel, an angel of the lord, can be in love with Dean Winchester, than it was okay for you, Jimmy, a human man, to be as well.
You crane your neck and kiss him and he seems a bit surprised because this is the first time you have initiated a kiss with him tonight. But, what’s to lose now?
He runs his fingers down your bare chest and you shudder. You’re not cold. In fact it’s incredibly hot in the Impala; Dean’s body weight causing you to sweat in places you didn’t know you could. You touch the side of his face and Dean stills for a moment. He looks into your eyes; his playfulness and flirty side subsiding.
“Dean.” You whisper.
He swallows hard and for a moment you think you may have gone too far. You may have been too personal. You know Dean Winchester is all about sex. But the second you get too emotional, he’s out the door. So far the night has been in his hands; everything according to his plan.
But now you’re touching his cheek, looking into his eyes. Trying to connect with him in ways you aren’t sure he is still able to.
“I’m glad it’s you.” He whispers.
You bite your bottom lip to keep from getting over emotional. You pull his face down to yours and kiss him.
~~
The back of a car isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to have sex, but you know, somehow, it means more to Dean than you will ever know. This car is his baby, his everything, other than Sam, and to allow himself to intimate with someone in the back seat of it, you know you’ve hit the big time.
It was awkward the way you both got all your clothes off. You laughed and bumped heads and even groaned in annoyance a few times.
But it’s amazing. You never thought you’d feel this way. You never thought after all pain and sorrow. All the things you had to give up; all the things that make no sense, past and present, all disappear the second his nose bumps yours. The fleeting moment where his fingers intertwine with yours as his most intimate parts of his body interact with yours. You want to cry; for so many reasons.
You want to cry in sadness as you always thought the person you’d be this close to would be Amelia for the rest of your life.
You want to scream because you still have way back in the darkest corners of your mind still think that the only reason he is above you; kissing you, touching you in ways you weren’t even sure two people COULD touch; is because you look and sound just like someone he lost.
And you want to hold onto him for dear life. Afraid that this moment will pass too soon and you won’t enjoy it the way you should. That your mind is racing a thousand miles an hour and you’re not just taking it for what it is. Not soaking in every millisecond of his skin on yours. The way he lets out tiny sighs when your warm fingers sprawl across his back. The way the moonlight reflects in his too green eyes and he nudges your nose with his to make you lift your mouth to his again and again.
You would think that if what’s happened to you; being an angel’s vessel, dying, going to heaven, staring into the eyes of your maker, and losing your family not once but twice; you’d be able to seize every moment as they come. But you can’t. All those experiences just make you more vulnerable. More prone to run screaming from anything could possibly make you happy. Cause what’s the point? It can all be taken from you in a moment. And you cannot stand losing again. Not something this close to you. Not something that could possibly save you in ways you didn’t even know you needing saving with.
When he’s finally inside you, the pain and pleasure all roll into one wave of emotion that you can feel from every pore on your body. You tremble and claw and make noises you weren’t even sure humans made, but the things you and Dean are doing right now you aren’t even sure humans should, could or can do. But you’re doing them. He’s in in in and you’re pulling pulling pulling, unable to let go. His hand is inside yours; rubbing his thumb over yours, kissing your mouth, neck and any patch of skin he can get to in the weird and uncomfortable position he has you in.
When you both fall over the edge, you find yourself biting down on his shoulder to keep from moaning too loud. Dean on the other hand was not lying when he said he’s a screamer. He groans, and growls and makes so many animalistic noises it makes you blush. You’re making him feel this way. You’re the cause of these ungodly noises and it makes you shake at the thought that you could be the reason behind anything anymore.
He presses his lips to your ear, breathing heavily as he rocks inside you and you’re whimpering and clawing at his skin. He takes a deep breath.
“Jimmy…”
You squeeze your eyes shut because you’re about to lose any control you have managed to keep. You shake your head because if he continues to speak you will cry and men don’t cry, right? Not when they are having sex with other men. You aren’t even sure if Dean cries. Probably not, right? He’s like the toughest person you know.
“Jimmy…” he starts again and he moves his head; his unshaven cheek scraping against yours until he is looking into your eyes.
He opens his mouth and you wait for the rug to be swept out from underneath you.
Or for your life to really begin.
Suddenly a rush of cold air hits your bare legs and crevices of your ass and you make a squeaking noise you are definitely not proud of.
Dean growls and mumbles obscenities underneath his breath as he looks over his shoulder to an open mouthed and wide eyed Sam Winchester.
“OH MY GOD. I’M BLIND.” Sam screams.
“Close the fucking door, dude. Jesus Christ.” Dean yells. You cover your face with your hands and try to disappear. It isn’t working though. You’re not Castiel after all.
“Dude. You cannot be comfortable in there. Take your naked and gay asses into the room. I’m going for a drive.” Sam pauses and makes a ‘gagging’ motion. “Scratch that. Walk. I’m going for a walk. I’m not sure I can ever sit in this car again.”
The Impala door slams shut and it’s you and Dean again. He pries your hands away from your face and when you open your eyes he’s smiling.
“We’ve been caught.”
“I think I’m going to throw up.” You confess.
“Oh stop. You're being over dramatic.”
You realize he’s still inside you and hard and god he feels so amazing.
“Are we really going into the room?” You whisper.
An evil smile creeps against his lips. “Nah. You haven’t had sex with me unless you’ve had sex in my baby.”
~~
6 months later:
You shove the clip into place and glide your gun into your back pocket with ease. Dean’s eyes twinkle as he smirks at you, reaching out and patting the spot where your gun will now reside for the next little while. It’s his way and you’ve grown accustomed to it.
Sam tosses you a canteen of holy water and you catch it without blinking, slinging it over your shoulder. This will be an easy hunt. Just a few demons; nothing you all can’t handle.
You’re a hunter now. Full on. Dean has spent numerous hours teaching you things and giving you knowledge from John Winchesters journal. He taught you the right way to shoot a gun and the wrong way to stab Ruby’s knife through a demon. He quizzed you on things that live in closets as opposed to what could be living underneath beds. He rewarded you with insanely good sex when you got all the questions right and you had to be his willing slave when you were incorrect which, he must know, wasn’t really punishment.
Sam had become like a brother to you over these last six months; being a shoulder to lean on and someone to laugh with about life. It was no secret Sam was the more sensitive one, so even though you were happy with Dean and the life you now lead, Sam was the one who understood when you saw a Father and Mother out with their daughter why you needed a few minutes alone to gather yourself together. Sam was the one who drove you to Pontiac to sit in on Claire’s high school graduation, all the way in the back so no one would see you. Dean never asked where you were or why you needed to go. He understood and supported you, but could never muster up enough courage to talk to you about it. Sam told you he blames himself for you not being able to be a normal father and husband to Amelia and Claire; thinking he is the reason you had to become Castiel’s vessel to begin with. That night he climbed into bed with Dean; running your hand down his bare chest. He looked at you; green eyes blazing in the light from the motel bedside table and you kissed him, trying to tell him in that kiss everything you couldn’t say out loud. That you were here because you wanted to be. That Castiel had nothing to do with it anymore. That you belonged to him.
And that you loved him.
You had had sex with Dean many times leading up to that night. But that night, as corny and yes gay as it sounds, Dean made love to you. He told you in his touches and whispers what you know he had the hardest time saying.
You awake from your daydream to Dean snapping his fingers in front of your face. “You with me Major Tom?”
You smile, shaking your head and bump his shoulder. “Shut up.”
“You two done flirting? We have work to do.” Sam smirks, slamming the trunk closed.
You follow the two brothers, fingers curled around Ruby’s knife and your heart around Dean, waiting for whatever lies ahead.