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Castiel took a breath, focussing as he allowed the rhythms and functions of Jimmy Novak's body to reawaken one by one. Doing so brought forth unexpected distress; the hunger of a body gone unfed was uncomfortable, a pang that Castiel had not been prepared for. But the clenching of Jimmy Novak's stomach was easily ignored once the nerves in his skin began to light up and Castiel could feel. He could feel the sweep of John Winchester's lips as they worked down Jimmy Novak's neck and he could feel the graze of John Winchester's teeth when he reached Jimmy Novak's shoulder and bit, painful but somehow not. Castiel grunted at the sensation and John Winchester laughed.

"You like that?" he asked.

Castiel tightened his grip in response, firm around John Winchester's biceps, holding the man closer. The pressure of John Winchester's body made Jimmy Novak's skin burn and Castiel wanted more. He wanted to feel everything.

This was never supposed to happen. A part of Castiel, now distant and ignorable behind the intense yesyesmore of Jimmy Novak's body, knew that meeting John Winchester had been an anomaly. He had known it the first time he had seen John Winchester, blistered and broken as a soul in Hell, and he had known it the first time the two had met on Earth after Castiel had restored him to life; John Winchester was wrong, shouldn't be where he was or who he was. John Winchester and Castiel should never have met.

This error, this hiccup in his Father's plan, tasted like a blessing when Castiel felt Jimmy Novak's skin flush from John Winchester's touch. Heat seemed to pool in the deep pit of Jimmy Novak's stomach as Castiel and John Winchester moved together, heat and desire and the slick of sweat between them, and Castiel embraced the sensations greedily. He wanted more, everything, because Castiel might have never met John Winchester. John, his John, his Righteous Man.