He Tastes Like You (But Sweeter)

He tastes like you (but sweeter)Title: He Tastes Like You (But Sweeter)
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Jimmy (Dean/Castiel)
Warning: “missing scene” for The Rapture
Word Count: 1100
Disclaimer: Kripke. Not me.
Rating: SFW.
Summary: Even if it wasn’t his Castiel, it was still Castiel’s vessel, and hadn’t Dean promised to help him?
Notes: Sometimes I play this little game: I choose a song from iTunes, and then I see if I can write a story inspired by it in sixty minutes. This is one of those fics. (Plus I love that title.)

They stopped for gas halfway through the night, and Sam went inside the little store for caffeine and sugar. None of them had said much as they drove away from Amelia and Clare, least of all Jimmy, who had been staring out the window at the passing dark and had hardly moved even when the Impala stopped.

Dean got out of the Impala and leaned against it. He watched the numbers tick on the pump. He was bone-tired from lack of sleep and worry; when he looked at Jimmy, hunched in the back seat, he knew Jimmy was feeling the same things and more.

It was hard enough, being without Castiel, not knowing what was going on with him, being afraid for him. It was harder still to see Jimmy hurting so badly. Even if it wasn’t his Castiel, it was still Castiel’s vessel, and hadn’t Dean promised to help him?

Dean thought, Screw this, and opened the door and slid into the back seat at Jimmy’s side. Jimmy glanced at him, his chin resting on his hands, and Dean said, “They’ll be okay. They’ll go home and—and—they’ll be okay.”

“Yes,” Jimmy said quietly.

“As for us,” Dean said, “I don’t really know what happens now. Castiel is the only angel I really talked to. Well. The only one that’s left.” He looked at Jimmy, who still had that thousand-yard stare. “Have you ever fired a gun?”

Jimmy looked at him at last, confused and wincing. “What?”

“Have you ever fired a gun? It’s part of the job.”

“No,” Jimmy said, sounding astonished at the question. “No, I’ve never fired a gun.”

“We’ll teach you.” He looked away from Jimmy. It was hard to look at him, to see his face, and not see Castiel in his eyes.

“Dean,” Jimmy said. “There’s something I need to ask you. Something I need to know, if we’re going to be traveling together, I have to know.”

“Okay,” Dean said and swallowed.

Jimmy was silent a while, his chin still on his hands. “Why do I remember kissing you?”

Dean inhaled and started to speak, but couldn’t just yet. He’d hoped those flashes Jimmy remembered didn’t include all those times when he had to grab Castiel by the collar and mash their mouths together, when he had buried himself in Castiel and Castiel had sheltered him.

“Because,” he said and cleared his throat, “because we did. We did. Kiss. And other things.”

Jimmy pressed his mouth to his hands a moment. “Sex?”


Jimmy made a dry sound. It was not a chuckle. “You are some piece of work, Dean Winchester.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean muttered and looked away again.

Jimmy was quiet too, and leaned back, letting his hands fall onto his lap. “My wife,” he said. “I love her.”

“Yeah,” Dean said and wiped his face with his palm.

“She’s the only woman I’ve ever been with, Dean. I waited until I was married and I was never once tempted to be unfaithful.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said again. “I didn’t think—and I don’t think it ever occurred to him—”

“No,” Jimmy muttered. “It wouldn’t.”

“Do you want me to keep apologizing? I’m sorry. I am. I’m sorry if you feel violated or whatever, but I didn’t sleep with him—you—to be a dick or to use you. I like him. He likes me. And sometimes we just—” He swallowed hard again. “Needed each other.”

Jimmy lowered his head and closed his eyes. “I get that,” he said in a low voice, and Dean looked at him, confused. “I get that you mean a lot to him,” Jimmy said, even lower, and one long-fingered hand twitched.

“I do?” Dean whispered and his eyes stung.

Jimmy looked at him, and then twisted in the seat and grabbed Dean’s jacket. He pulled Dean closer, as hard as Castiel ever had when they’d slain another demon or saved another seal, and kissed him clumsily.

It took a few tries to get their lips and noses fitted together, Dean’s fingers in his hair and Jimmy’s fists twisting and clutching at Dean’s jacket. He flinched a little at the first touch of Dean’s tongue, and then took a breath and kissed him deeper.

Dean pulled back first, still holding Jimmy’s face between his hands. “You don’t have to,” he whispered and kissed Jimmy again, just light and reassuring. “Just because he did, you don’t have to.”

“Stop talking and let me figure this out,” Jimmy muttered and kissed him again. He pushed Dean back against the door, still clutching his jacket, and flicked his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean held Jimmy by the waist and wrapped a leg around him. His body arched up a moment, recognizing pheromones and musculature no matter who might be in control.

Jimmy didn’t smell like Castiel: he smelled human, sweaty, soapy. He didn’t taste like Castiel, either, not the sweet taste of Castiel’s mouth, like fresh water. But his skin was just as warm and smooth, his lips just as full and welcoming, and he kissed Dean with decreasing determination and increasing hunger.

There was a slap on the roof of the Impala and Jimmy pushed himself up and away from Dean as Sam opened the driver’s side door. “Dude,” Sam said, “you forgot to watch the pump.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered, dazed, and opened the door to get back into the front seat. Jimmy didn’t say anything as he folded up his raincoat and held it in his lap.

“‘Sokay, I had enough to cover it.” He tossed back a bottle of Coke to Jimmy and another to Dean. “I got granola bars and sunflower seeds, too,” he told Jimmy.

“Thanks,” Jimmy said, his voice soft and subdued again.

Dean couldn’t speak as Sam pulled away from the pump. His heart was still pounding and his lips felt electric, alive. He wanted to get Jimmy alone and get him out of that suit and see if he was any different at sex than Castiel had been.

“You okay?” Sam said, glancing at him.

“Yeah,” Dean said, “I’m fine,” and he wondered if Jimmy wanted to be alone with him as badly. He watched Jimmy in the rear view mirror, not surprised when Jimmy wadded his coat under his head and closed his eyes. It had been a long day for everyone. They’d stop when it was safe.

And when it was safe, he’d ask Jimmy if he still needed to figure things out, and what Dean could do to help.

That was when his phone rang, ending all his plans.


2 thoughts on “He Tastes Like You (But Sweeter)”

    1. @crabbyjustice4eva, thank you! I don’t have any plans to continue it currently, but my philosophy is never say never.

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