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Every Word a Piece of My Heart

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“The battle raged on, angels against demons with a few hunters in the midst of it all, outmatched and outgunned but fighting all the same. At the heart of it stood Dean and Sam Winchester, guarding each other’s back as they faced their biggest challenge yet, armed with both courage and determination and, in Dean’s case, the sword that was Humanity’s last hope.

It was no easy task and Dean soon found himself alone, Sam bleeding a few feet away. He called out to his brother, fearing for Sam’s life, and the Devil gloated, feeling victory was near. But a burst of righteous anger shot through Dean and despite his own injuries he took advantage of Lucifer’s inattention, running the sword through him.

A hush fell on the battlefield as Lucifer toppled over. Dean stood over him, defiantly holding on to his weapon and keeping him pinned to the ground even as he struggled to get free. The forces of Heaven gathered around them, singing their praise. Their true voices made the remaining demons flee and the humans cover their ears in fear and awe – all but the one still holding the sword keeping the Devil at bay.

Castiel knelt next to his fallen brother, drawing the sigils that would seal the Morning Star’s tarnished Grace back in Hell. His threats and lures had no effect on him – had his faith wavered, he would only have needed to look up and see Dean, fierce and determined despite the pain.

Then suddenly it was over. Lucifer was defeated.

Dean collapsed and Castiel caught him before he could hit the ground. Sam limped towards them, worried about his brother. He reached them just as bright lights erupted all around them and had to close his eyes, fearing he would go blind.

The Host was leaving.

When he opened his eyes again Castiel was the only angel left on the vast plains of Earth. He did not wish to go, that much was obvious as he reverently laid his hands on Dean’s body, healing the worst of his injuries – a forbidden act that he performed anyway with a heavy heart. Then he rose to his feet and turned to face Sam. He opened his mouth to speak but instead of words came thunder from above and with another flash of light Castiel was gone, his goodbyes left unsaid.”

Excerpt from ‘United We Stand – The Winchester Gospels’ by Carver Edlund


Jimmy Novak opens his eyes and sees peeling plaster on a beige ceiling.

Castiel is gone again. And he is hungry.

Well, at least he is in a bed this time and not on the floor of some half-collapsed warehouse, he thinks, pushing himself up on his elbows to take stock of his surroundings. The small motion makes the room swim in and out of focus and he collapses back on the bed with a pathetic groan.


He blinks and Sam Winchester’s face appears above him.

“Oh, hey, you’re awake!” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Jimmy answers before he can think twice about it and immediately feels like an idiot because no matter how bad he may be feeling right now Sam looks ten times worse, his too-pale face accentuating the shadows under his eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days – or showered, for that matter – and the make-shift bandages he’s used to patch himself up are bloody.

Jimmy has learned enough about the Winchester brothers during his time as Castiel’s vessel to know that Dean would never allow Sam to push himself that hard. Which can only mean…

He twists his head sideways, trying to see past Sam, and sure enough there is Dean, lying unconscious or asleep on the other bed.

“What happened? Where is Castiel?” he asks, pushing himself into a sitting position – and succeeding this time around.

Sam sits down heavily and rubs a weary hand over his face.

“What do you remember?” he asks and Jimmy shrugs.

“Not a lot. Castiel tends to shield me from the bad stuff – and there seems to have been a lot of that lately. There was supposed to be a battle, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah, there was. We fought Lucifer and Dean sent him back to Hell. It’s over. Castiel– the angels went back to Heaven.”

Jimmy stares at him flabbergasted. Castiel is gone? For good?

An inexplicable sense of loss almost overcomes him, catching him off guard. But then he thinks about his wife and daughter and happiness floods through him so swiftly it quashes any lingering doubts he might have.

He can finally go home.

Part of him wants to run outside and find the nearest bus station to go immediately but past experiences have made him wary. He knows they’re safe – Castiel will keep his word no matter where he is – but how long has it been since he last saw them? What’s been happening in the world outside? Will demons come after them again? There are so many questions he wants to ask but it’s obvious Sam isn’t up for it just now.

“What’s wrong with Dean?” he asks instead and Sam’s face crumples.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure Cas healed the worst of it before he –” He stops himself abruptly, shooting a guilty glance in Dean’s direction but Dean doesn’t stir. “Anyway since you’re up I’m hoping he’ll wake up soon too.”

He yawns and rubs his eyes again. The gesture reminds Jimmy strongly of Claire back when she was still little and he just has to offer his help.

“Look, why don’t you get some sleep?” He says, getting out of bed. The room spins a little but so far so good. “I’ll keep an eye on Dean.”

Sam looks pathetically grateful at the suggestion.

“You’re sure?” he still asks, worrying his lower lip, and Jimmy shoos him towards the bed he’s just vacated.

“Oh. There’s food over there,” Sam tells him with a vague hand motion that pretty much encompasses the entire room. He crashes face-first on the bed and is out like a light, snoring in the pillow. And that, Jimmy thinks with a small smile, settles an on-going argument between the brothers he’s unwittingly witnessed through Castiel’s eyes – not that anyone will ever ask him to play referee.

That good deed done, Jimmy roots through Sam’s provisions – he is hungry – and, armed with his booty, pulls up the room’s only chair to sit next to Dean’s bed.

He eats, and he waits.


He is daydreaming about the time he and Amelia took Claire to the beach for the holidays when Dean finally stirs. The poor guy is still pretty much out of it, mumbling incoherently under his breath and struggling to free himself from the sheets. Jimmy risks a glance towards Sam – nope, still passed out, he won’t be getting any help from him – and scoots forward, laying a cautious hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean,” he says, trying to remember what he did for Claire when she had nightmares. It seems so very long ago now.

“Cas?” Dean sighs, stilling under his hand, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell him it’s just Jimmy. He can’t bring himself to tell an outright lie either though and so he settles on squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

“Sam ‘kay?” Dean asks, and when Jimmy tells him he is he relaxes back into the mattress.

“Good. You?”

“I’m fine, Dean. Go back to sleep,” Jimmy whispers and isn’t really surprised when Dean does just that.


Dean wakes up properly the next day, beating Sam by half an hour. This time Jimmy doesn’t need to tell him he isn’t Castiel because Dean takes one look at him and knows. Jimmy should be relieved – pretending to be an angel isn’t his idea of a good time – but then Dean asks oh-so-casually where Cas went and Jimmy has to tell him he left. And the look on Dean’s face before it closes up and becomes unreadable is not something Jimmy ever wanted to put there.


The rest of the day is awkward. Dean is busy trying to pretend everything is fine despite the fact that he won’t look at Jimmy and Sam – looking much better now that he’s gotten ten hours of sleep – keeps shooting worried glances at his brother when he thinks he isn’t looking, threatening to withhold pie if Dean doesn’t stay in bed when he inevitably gets caught.

Jimmy isn’t sure he’ll ever understand them.

He tries to make himself scarce, thinking it’ll be easier for Dean, but the man yells at him when he tries to leave the room – more words than he’s spoken to him all day.

In the end Sam goes with him and Jimmy is thankful for the opportunity to catch up with the ‘real’ world. Most of his memories of his time with Castiel involve demons and angels and Sam and Dean and are not really conducive to reacclimatize himself to living a human life. Luckily Sam is more than willing to answer his questions.

They’ve been at war with Lucifer and his army for two years, he tells him, and it’s been hard on all of them. In the first few months they were alone, Castiel the only angel fighting on their side, and it often felt like they were only one step away from destruction. But eventually more angels – often from the lower ranks of the Garrison – started defying Zachariah’s orders to come to Humanity’s defence and slowly the tide turned.

As the rest of the world, Sam says with a shrug, they didn’t notice a thing, wilfully blind to what was happening all around them. The media puzzled over the steep rise in crime and unexplained disappearances and reported the many ‘natural’ disasters. Some religious leaders did threaten their flock with the Apocalypse but no one really took them seriously.

Life went on.

Eventually Sam falls silent and they make their way back to the motel. Jimmy is so lost in thought – two years, it’s been two years since he last saw Amelia and Claire – that he doesn’t notice Sam has stopped moving in the middle of the parking lot until he bumps into him.

“Sorry,” he says, startled back to the present.

Sam fidgets.

“Do you know…” Sam trails off, looking a bit uncomfortable. He clears his throat and tries again. “I mean, you know Dean doesn’t have anything against you, right?”

Oh. That’s what this is about.

“Yeah, I know. I just happen to look exactly like Castiel. And I’m guessing he didn’t say anything about going back to Heaven once Lucifer was gone?”

Sam looks relieved and then vaguely horrified. “Wait, you mean you were there when –”

“What? No!” Jimmy feels his face grow hot and mentally groans. The occasional flashes he got from Dean and Castiel’s sex life always made him feel awkward – for all the wrong reasons – and he’s tried not to think too much about it. “I wasn’t! They just– they asked me before…”

“And you said yes?” Sam asks, sounding both fascinated and weirded out.

“It’s not like I expected to see my wife again in her lifetime,” he says defensively. “Castiel warned me I’d be his vessel for hundreds of years. What was I going to say – ‘no’? It would have made all three of us miserable. They loved each other.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees quietly. “They did.”

What more is there to say?


The next morning Dean is back on his feet and insisting he is “fine, damn it!” when Sam suggests they wait a couple of days before moving on.

“Dude, I’m not the one who’s bleeding all over the place,” Dean snorts. “Anyway, we’ve got to bring him –” he jerks his chin in Jimmy’s direction and still manages not to meet his eyes, “– home before we hunt the rest of those sons of bitches down.”

So they pile up in the Impala and Jimmy –

Jimmy is going home.


The drive to Pontiac is mostly silent, Jimmy’s excitement rising steadily as the miles keeping him from his family grow fewer. By the time they reach his street his heart is pounding so hard in his chest it’s almost painful and he wants to run out of the car and up to the house before they’ve even come to a full stop but Dean’s hand on his arm stops him.

“We’re coming with you,” he says before jerking his hand away as if burned. He gets out of the car with a lot less grace than usual and Jimmy mentally kicks himself. What was he thinking? He can’t just rush in, there could be demons in there!

But the house – his house – is dark and uninviting. The front yard needs trimming and the ‘for sale’ sign takes up half of it. There are no cars parked out front and Jimmy knows long before they’ve reached the front door that the house is empty.

He rings the bell anyway but there is no answer. Disappointment hits him hard – of course they’re not there, they probably moved, or maybe the angels relocated them elsewhere? – and he tries to put on a brave face while Sam picks the lock.

“Wait here,” Dean orders as he and his brother draw their guns and go in.

Jimmy nods distractedly, not caring much about going inside now. It’s for the best, he tries to tell himself. Look at what happened last time. He’ll call Amelia and let her know he’s back. Find out where they are. It won’t be as much of a shock as him showing up out of the blue on their doorstep after two years. Yes, really, it is for the best.

It doesn’t help with the lump in his throat though.


Sam and Dean stick around long enough to draw faintly familiar symbols all over the house. They have demons to hunt down – the last of Lucifer’s army is causing havoc, they tell him, but they’ll check up on him when they can. He shouldn’t have any trouble though – he’s of no use to demons now that the Host is gone for good. And they will soon be too busy to pay any attention to him.

Jimmy doesn’t expect to see them again – Dean probably won’t want to be reminded of what he lost – and he is surprised by the pang of regret he feels as he watches them drive away.

But he’s got other things to worry about.

He calls Amelia’s cell phone with sweaty palms and shaky fingers, praying she still has the same number. The ring is loud in his ear and then someone picks up and it’s her.

“Amelia? It’s me – it’s Jimmy,” he says and his voice is almost steady.



“Jimmy?” she finally says, her voice small and disbelieving. “Oh my God, is it really you? I thought…” She trails off, sounding unsure, and Jimmy hurries to reassure her.

“It’s over, Amelia. I’m at the house – I’m back for good this time.”

“That’s… God, Jimmy! I never –”

“How’s Claire? Where are you?” Jimmy asks when she doesn’t finish her sentence for the second time, worry starting to gnaw at his stomach.

“She’s… she’s fine. She’s really good. She’s grown up so much! And we’re still in Pontiac – we just, we moved.”

More silence and Jimmy’s smile starts to fade.

“Can I see you?” he asks with more hesitancy than he would like to think about.

“Yes! Yes, we should meet,” Amelia answers immediately and Jimmy is pathetically relieved. “Do you remember that coffee shop on Mill St.? We could meet there in… half an hour?”

Jimmy agrees and hangs up. And realizes he’s got no car and needs to get going right away or he’ll be late.

He isn’t, in the end. In fact he is early, either because he is in better shape than he used to or because he runs half of the way there – or a bit of both, really. He stares at the door, feeling both hopeful and apprehensive, and by the time Amelia walks through the door apprehension is winning.

She hasn’t changed at all, he thinks as he stands to greet her. She’s beautiful. They sit down and order and silence stretches between them.

This is not how Jimmy imagined their reunion going.

“How are you?” he offers tentatively and she starts crying.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a little frantic as likely calamities run through his mind – Claire is not fine, she didn’t want to tell him over the phone, she’s been kidnapped by demons or she’s been hit by a car or –

“I’ve met someone,” she says and can’t meet his eyes.


They’ve been together for almost a year now, she tells him, her eyes begging for understanding. They moved in together a couple of months ago. Claire likes him.

They’re happy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t think you would ever come back.”

Jimmy nods mechanically, feeling numb. He hadn’t thought of that eventuality. And he wants to be angry or sad but instead he just feels… nothing.

“Can I –” His voice breaks and he is the first surprised. “Can I at least see Claire?”

“Of course,” she hurries to say. “Just… let me talk to her first?”

Jimmy acquiesces weakly.

What choice does he have?


Jimmy is moping. It’s not like him but considering he’s just come back from three years of fighting demons – okay, technically it wasn’t him doing the fighting but still – to find his wife in love with someone else he thinks he is allowed.

He can’t even bring himself to blame her, not really. He didn’t think he would come back so he really shouldn’t have expected her to wait for him, should he? He wanted her to be happy and she is.

It’s just harder to handle when he is around to see it.

But slowly he starts coping. He doesn’t get much choice, actually. Sam and Dean show up on their way from South Dakota to Missouri – don’t ask – and Jimmy doesn’t know who is more surprised, him or the Winchesters. He honestly hadn’t expected to see them again, and they obviously didn’t expect to find him hanging around the house in sweats and a week’s worth of stubble – Castiel never did learn to take it easy, he thinks snidely and immediately wants to slap himself. He isn’t taking it easy, he is being pathetic.

In the end the whole mess turns out to have one positive outcome: it finally drives home the fact that Jimmy is not Castiel in Dean’s thick head. Makes him a lot easier to be around. Especially since Dean suddenly makes it his mission to cheer him up, which means dragging him to a bar and getting him drunk. He throws girls at him all evening with a half-pained expression on his face, looking all too relieved when Jimmy turns them down. Sleeping with a stranger isn’t going to make him feel better.

Jimmy appreciates the sentiment though – until he wakes up the next day with a pounding headache and an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He blearily shuffles into his kitchen half an hour later and endures Dean’s too loud comments with a grunt here and there until Sam takes pity on him and focuses Dean’s attention on their upcoming hunt.

When he watches them drive away for the second time, he actually feels better than he has in days. There are people who care about what happens to him out there, there is Claire, and he needs to get his life back on tracks.

He starts looking for a job and eventually finds one at a local newspaper, selling ad space. It’s not the most exciting job in the world but he likes it. And he’s done exciting – most of the times it’s overrated. Then Amelia calls to tell him Claire wants to see him and Jimmy takes it as a sign from above that he’s made the right decision. He gives a silent word of thanks and frets about how their meeting will go. He shouldn’t have worried though: Claire is overjoyed to have him back. She understands what happened to him better than Amelia ever could, a left-over empathy from her brief role as Castiel’s vessel while all Amelia’s ever known is a demon’s possession. Jimmy listens to her talk about school and friends and – to his horror – boys and can’t believe how much she’s grown in two years.

He is so proud of her he thinks his heart might burst and he knows that no matter what happens with Amelia, he and Claire are going to be just fine.


They sell the house three months after Jimmy’s return. Amelia offered to let him keep it but Jimmy declined: he wants a fresh start. He moves into a smaller, three-bedroom house on the other side of town, close enough to Claire that she can come over whenever she wants but still far enough that he won’t run into Amelia at the grocery store.

They sign the divorce papers a month later. Instead of feeling sad Jimmy is relieved.

He goes to Church on Sundays but it’s not as satisfying as it used to be. He’s seen angels and demons and the end of the world and ordinary people – extraordinary people – struggling in the midst of it to make a difference.

After a while he stops going. His priest asks him why when they run into each other and Jimmy doesn’t have the heart to tell him he can’t bear to hear him theorize about things he’s actually lived through.

He still has faith. Still prays. For Amelia and Claire. For Dean and Sam and all the hunters out there who are keeping them safe. He knows Castiel is listening.

And one day Castiel answers.

There is nothing special about that day. The weather is cold, winter fast approaching, and it smells like snow – Jimmy loves that time of year. He is walking home from work, carrying a one-sided conversation with Castiel in his head – a habit he acquired when he was his vessel in order to keep sane and still hasn’t grown out of – when,

Jimmy,” says the wind, and Jimmy almost walks into a tree.


Jimmy is pacing when he hears the Impala pull up in front of his house. In the four hours it took them to show up – they were finishing up a job in Des Moines when he called – Jimmy still hasn’t figured out how to break the news.

Right then. Better get to it.

Jimmy braces himself and opens the door before they can ring the bell. And belatedly remembers he never told Sam and Dean his new address. Oh well! Clearly they found the place just fine.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks. “You said it was urgent.”

“Yeah…” He ushers them into the living, trying to push back the inevitable. And really he could have done this over the phone, except he feared Dean would drive the car off the road.

Here goes nothing.

“I heard from Castiel.”

He is trying not to look at Dean when he says it but he can’t miss the way he goes very still out of the corner of his eye, his face a twirl of emotions before it shuts down.

“Is he alright? What happened to him?” Sam asks when it becomes clear Dean isn’t going to and Jimmy realizes he’s wringing his hands and forces himself to stop. Here comes the part he really isn’t looking forward to.

“He sounded okay. He said to tell you that the demon you’re looking for is in Pike View, Kentucky.”

Silence, then:

“That’s it?” Dean, finally, exploding out of his chair and Jimmy can’t quite meet his eyes. “Oh, that’s just… priceless.”

He storms out of the room and out of the house, the door slamming behind him. Jimmy winces and glances at Sam who seems to be inwardly debating whether to go after his brother or not. Then the yelling starts, curses and half-finished sentences shouted at the sky, and Jimmy really hopes his neighbours don’t call the cops.

Dean,” Castiel says, sounding so sad it makes Jimmy’s chest hurt and his vision blur.

“I’ll just –” he trails off, motioning after Dean and then upwards. Sam seems to understand and stays put. Not that Jimmy notices much.

Turns out Castiel has more to say after all.

Dean is still yelling when Jimmy steps outside. He hovers for an instant – shit, it’s cold, he should have taken a coat – and takes a tentative step forward.

“Could you… please stop shouting?” he says, because he really can’t concentrate on both Dean and Castiel at the same time.

Surprisingly Dean does stop, rounding on him and glaring instead.

So Jimmy talks. He tells Dean everything Castiel wants to say to him but can’t and it’s pretty obvious Dean doesn’t want to listen at first but if Jimmy has to speak the words then he will bloody listen, no matter uncomfortable it makes him! It can’t be worse than how Jimmy’s feeling: serving as a conduit in an intimate conversation is incredibly awkward.

He talks because Dean deserves to know what Castiel is telling him. He deserves to know that Castiel didn’t want to leave – never would have, had he had a choice. No, he would have stayed, stayed ‘til Dean was old and grey, ‘til he was dead and buried and they were together still in the kingdom of the Lord. But he was yanked back to Heaven and forbidden to return, an example made out of him, and disobeying again meant falling and little chance to see Dean again.

Even when Castiel falls silent Jimmy still talks. He talks about how much Castiel thought of him. Adored him, really, no matter how sacrilegious it was. How he would have gone to the end of the Earth and back for him. How he felt more human whenever Dean was around. Happy. At peace. Annoyed and angry too, because Dean could be so infuriating sometimes. Dean’s soul shone brighter than anyone else’s and it was beautiful and Jimmy thinks he might have developed a bit of a crush on Dean, watching him through Castiel’s eyes. It was impossible not to (he keeps that part to himself though – Dean doesn’t need to know everything).

When Jimmy runs out of words he’s near frozen solid and Dean hasn’t moved. Despite the pained expression on his face he seems calmer and Jimmy feels very self-conscious all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says quietly and means it, no matter how hypocritical it may sound. Castiel left and Jimmy got his life back – or parts of it anyway. It had to be one or the other – Dean’s loss is Jimmy’s gain.

Dean doesn’t answer and Jimmy steps back into the house, warmth enveloping him as soon as he passes the threshold, making him shiver.

He looks back once and Dean’s head is tilted towards the heavens. His lips are moving, quiet words not meant for Jimmy.

And when the night sky erupts in shooting stars, Dean smiles.


Castiel continues talking to him – through him – after that day, giving advice to the Winchesters and admonishing Dean to be more careful every once in a while. He doesn’t pour out his heart again and it’s just as well – Dean just started looking him in the eye again.

They come around more often to get the messages and Jimmy is glad. They don’t need to – he could just as well call them – but he doesn’t complain. Truth be told, he’s missed them. He spent the better part of three years with them, after all. Got used to their presence – which is strange, considering he was never really there in the first place. But it sometimes feels like he knows them – he could write an essay on Dean’s eating habits and taste in music –, even if all they knew was Castiel.

Meanwhile Jimmy’s life goes on. Claire comes over every other week-end or more if she needs help with her homework or just wants to see him. Work is going well. Jimmy even tries dating a couple of times but it’s an unmitigated disaster. It doesn’t bother him too much, although he’d rather not look too closely as to why.


Almost a year after Castiel’s reappearance Jimmy comes home to find Dean leaning against his car in front of his house. He looks like shit. And Sam’s not with him.

“Hey,” Dean says, which Jimmy answers with:

“Where’s Sam?”

And yeah, that’s not exactly subtle but from what Jimmy’s heard, the last time Sam was gone Dean sold his soul and started the Apocalypse. He is allowed to be a little concerned.

“Sammy’s met a girl,” Dean says, shrugging like it’s no big deal, but under the thin veneer of faked casualness the man looks tired and a bit sad. And so very lonely Jimmy’s heart aches for him.

“I’ve got a spare bedroom,” he offers spontaneously.

Dean knows that already – he’s stayed at Jimmy’s place often enough. But what Jimmy is offering is something else and from the way Dean actually pauses to think about it, he knows that too.

Jimmy is not Sam. He isn’t Castiel either, but Dean is lonely. And so is Jimmy when Claire or the Winchesters aren’t visiting. Being a vessel got him accustomed to constant companionship, Castiel always right there whenever Jimmy surfaced to consciousness, and he misses that.

“Cool,” Dean says and grabs his duffle bag.

It is good,” Castiel concurs and Jimmy smiles.

He lets Dean settle in – which basically means drop his bag in his room – and then breaks out the alcohol. He owes him one and Dean obviously needs it. Castiel tuts disapprovingly in the background but for once Jimmy ignores him – he is the one dealing with this mess.

“You read my mind,” Dean mumbles as he slumps into a chair next to him and gratefully downs a shot.

Her name is Lisa, Dean tells him eventually. She lives a couple of hundred miles east and she’s a doctor. They met her a few months ago after a hunt gone wrong and really, he hadn’t needed a hospital but Sam – that giant pussy – insisted. She was on shift in the ER and only had eyes for Sam – which is a bit unfair, when you think about it. Dean was the one with the war wounds!

Hell, Sam didn’t even protest when she said they were going to keep Dean overnight for observation!

“Had to climb out of the window,” Dean snickers, leaning against Jimmy as he reaches for another drink, and Jimmy suddenly feels hot all over.

It’s got to be the alcohol, he decides, purposefully ignoring the fact that he’s been nursing the same beer all evening.

After a while Dean starts slurring his words and can’t seem to sit straight anymore and Jimmy decides he’s had enough. That leaves him with the task of putting Dean to bed, not the easiest thing in the world when Dean is rather intent on staying put – and grab another beer. In the end Jimmy has to manhandle him away from the bottles and up the stairs, thankful for the fact that Dean is too uncoordinated to put up much of a fight.

“Sammy went to Stanford, did you know that?” Dean rambles on as Jimmy pulls and pushes him towards his room and no, Jimmy did not know that. “That’s my brother, the smart one. Was only a matter of time before he left again. He said no but I knew.”

Dean looks at him expectantly as if waiting for him to agree and obviously his… ‘issues’ didn’t start with Castiel – Jimmy doesn’t know whether to be sad or relieved. So he just shoves him through the doorway instead – and really, next time Dean can sleep on the couch. Never killed him before. Dean stumbles and sits down heavily on the bed, staring blearily at him.

“Everyone always leaves,” he says matter-of-factly and for once Castiel has no words of wisdom for either of them.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” he offers tentatively and doesn’t expect Dean’s sudden change of mood or the goofy smile on his face.

“You’re a nice guy, Jimmy,” Dean tells him, reaching out to pat his shoulder – or at least that’s what Jimmy thinks he is trying to do, considering he misses completely and ends up patting air, almost falling off the bed in the process.

Jimmy catches him and pushes him back down on the bed.

“I like you,” Dean says candidly and Jimmy feels inordinarily pleased.

Then Dean starts snoring and Jimmy remembers he is drunk and tries not to be too disappointed.


Dean isn’t around much at first, sharing his time between hunting and checking up on Sam. But after a couple of months hunts dwindle down as they get rid of the last of the demons that rose with Lucifer. Even ghosts and werewolves and other supernatural beings Jimmy had no idea were real are making themselves scarce these days, and Dean is home more and more often.

It’s not always easy – Dean isn’t used to staying in one place and the last person Jimmy shared his roof with was his wife so it takes some adjustment. But they settle in pretty well and it’s nice to have someone around. To stumble out of bed in the morning and find Dean half-asleep in the kitchen, mumbling to the coffeemaker to hurry the fuck up. Or to come home after work to find out whether Dean’s latest attempt at cooking has been successful or not. It’s more domestic than Jimmy ever expected Dean would be comfortable with and it never fails to send a warm glow through him.

Castiel is pleased.

There are downsides to having Dean around too. Like his propensity to walk around all wet from his shower with only a towel around his waist. One tiny towel that’s always slipping.

Castiel is very pleased.

Jimmy tells him to shut up.


The day Dean takes a job at the auto shop five blocks away because he hasn’t had anything to kill in two weeks and is bored out of his mind, Jimmy finally realizes Dean has no intention of going anywhere – except on hunts on week-ends. He is glad.

Incidentally it’s also the day he realizes he is in love with Dean and that… Well that makes him think he might be in trouble.

The dreams don’t help. Dreams of Dean that leave him sweaty and hard, and Jimmy hasn’t jerked off this often since puberty hit and he couldn’t decide whether to focus on the cheerleaders’ breasts or the jocks’ ass. He can’t even tell whether the dreams are memories from Castiel or his own fantasies but his dick doesn’t seem to care one way or another.

It’s a bit of a mess, to say the least, and it makes being around Dean – shirtless or otherwise – a little (a lot) awkward.

Castiel tells him he should talk to Dean and Jimmy ignores him – he is getting quite good at that.


Claire spends two weeks with them during her summer break. Jimmy takes time off work and Dean offers to go and visit Sam while she’s there. Jimmy is almost takes him up on that – more for his own sake than Claire’s – but it’s Dean’s home too and he doesn’t want him to think he has to move out so that Jimmy can spend time with his daughter. Dean is sensitive to stuff like that. And no matter how uncomfortable Jimmy’s predicament might be right now – and let’s face it, being in love with a man who’ll probably never see past the fact that you once were the vessel of the angel he loves sucks –, the mere thought of Dean living hurts a lot worse.

Besides, Claire likes Dean – in fact, Jimmy is half-convinced she had a bit of a crush on him at first (and thank God that’s over) – and she’s perfectly happy having him around.

At the end of her stay Jimmy is driving her home when she turns towards him and says:

“Is Dean your boyfriend?”

Jimmy blinks at her, completely bewildered, and belatedly remembers to look at the road.

Claire rushes on, blushing but determined: “It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind. My friend Kaylee has two moms and they’re the best.”

“I– uh– I mean –” Jimmy clears his throat, feeling his face grow hot. “No, he isn’t.”

“Oh.” Claire looks away, sounding oddly disappointed.

“Why did you think he was?” Jimmy asks, making sure to keep his voice as neutral as possible.

“It’s just the way you behave and stare at each other a lot and everything,” she says, shrugging. “And he’s been living with you for months now.”

“Well, he is just a friend,” Jimmy tells her with a note of finality in his voice.

They spend the next mile in silence and Jimmy is just starting to relax when:

“Would you like him to be your boyfriend?”

“Claire!” he snaps, more flustered that he would like to admit, and this time that’s the end of it.

A treacherous part of his mind can’t help but wonder if Dean really does stare at him – and why.


One Thursday Jimmy is making dinner and wondering whether Dean will be home from his hunt tonight when suddenly there is light everywhere and the familiar presence of Castiel slips into him.


The next thing he knows they’re standing among golden trees, the most terrifying creature he’s ever seen crouching in front of them. Jimmy doesn’t have time to panic before Castiel raises a hand and it bursts into flames, its scream ringing in Jimmy’s ears even as the scent of charred flesh reaches his nose.

Dean is sprawled on the ground a couple of feet away with a deep gash on his side and another on his forehead, and he is so still, so very still that for a second Jimmy thinks Castiel was too late.

But then Castiel is kneeling next to Dean, laying a hand on his chest, and a bright light fills the forest.

Dean comes to with a gasp, arching off the ground. His hand automatically casts around for his weapon and Castiel stills it with his own.

“– the hell?” Dean wheezes and then his eyes widen.

“You should be more careful, Dean,” Castiel says, stroking his cheek tenderly.

“Cas –”

And then they’re back in their living room, Jimmy kneeling on the floor with Dean’s head on his lap and Castiel is gone again.

He looks down at Dean and Dean stares up at him, and Jimmy realizes he is absently petting his hair. He stops, jerking his hand away, and feels his face grow hot.

This is all Castiel’s fault.

Dean blinks.

“Dude, why are you wearing an apron?”

Shit. Dinner.

Jimmy gets up precipitately and Dean’s head hits the floor with a thud.

“Ow!” he complains.

“Sorry,” Jimmy calls back, hurrying to the kitchen. Of course Castiel didn’t think to turn off the stove.

My apologies,” Castiel says. “There was no time to consider human appliances.

“It’s fine,” he answers. “We weren’t gone that long.” And better save Dean than dinner.

Castiel agrees wholeheartedly.

Dean trails into the kitchen after him, poking at his torn clothes, and it hits Jimmy that Dean almost died tonight. He feels light-headed for a second and then angry because what if Castiel had been too late? What if he hadn’t come at all? Dean would be dead, and maybe then he would be with Castiel but Jimmy would be alone.

Damn it, Dean needs to be more careful!

“I liked that leather jacket,” Dean is whining. “Can’t you fix it?” he asks the ceiling and Castiel answers with a very pointed “no”.

“No,” Jimmy relays to him succinctly. “And your car is parked outside,” he adds, foretelling Dean’s next question.


He steals a piece of tomato from the bowl and Jimmy glares at him.

“I thought Sam was supposed to come with you,” he says and Dean shrugs.

“He couldn’t make it. Last minute thing – Lisa’s parents were coming up from Florida to meet him.” Dean shudders at the thought of meeting one’s future in-laws, oblivious to Jimmy’s rising temper.

“You almost died, Dean!” Jimmy finally explodes and Dean actually has the guts to look surprised that Jimmy would care.

“Dude, I’m fine.”

“Yeah well maybe next time you won’t be!”

Dean laughs. “I’m always going to be ‘fine’.”

Jimmy’s glare intensifies and Dean hurries to continue. “Cas is always going to show up and save me. That’s his thing, remember? He promised.”

Wait, what?

He is right,” Castiel informs him. “Dean and his family are safe, just like yours – the Lord rewards those who serve Him well and my punishment does not negate my word. You are still my charges and so I can return to Earth when you need me – but only then.


“Still. You should be more careful,” Jimmy says feeling slightly mollified and Dean’s face is suddenly a picture of wounded innocence.

A moment of silence, then:

“What’s for dinner?”

Jimmy shakes his head and can’t quite bite back a smile.


“Claire?” Jimmy calls out as he closes the door behind him. The light is on in the living room and the Impala isn’t in its usual place, Dean not home from work yet.

“We’re in my room,” she answers and Jimmy makes his way up the stairs, praying she doesn’t have a boy up there. She’ll be turning 17 soon but there are parts of his daughter’s life he’d rather not think about. At all.

And he knows where Dean keeps his guns.

“Hey dad,” she says, smiling at him when he pokes his head in her room.

Good, no boy. One of her friends though, the two of them armed with pencils and paper.

“Hi Mr Novak,” the girl says, looking up from her work.

“Hello Emily,” he answers before looking back at Claire. “Everything okay?”

“We have a history test tomorrow and I left my book here last week-end,” she explains.

“Did you tell your mom where you were?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

“Good. Will you need me to drive you two home later?” he asks and Claire shakes her head.

“Nah, Em’s mom is coming to pick her up and she said she’d drive me home.”

“Okay, good luck then.”

He closes the door behind him and goes to his own room to change. He never used to mind wearing suits before but now he can’t wait to get out of it at the end of the day. Maybe it’s because he got stuck in the same clothes for three years.

He puts on jeans and a sweater and heads downstairs to make some coffee. He settles down on the couch with a book, enjoying the quiet and sipping his drink until the bell rings and he gets up to let Emily’s mother in.

“Cynthia, come in,” he says with a smile. “I’ll get the girls.”

He walks to the bottom of the stairs and yells that Emily’s mom is here – not the most civilized way of doing things but he’s learned what works with a teenager.

“Five more minutes!” is his answer and Jimmy rolls his eyes, turning back towards Cynthia.

“You’d better sit down,” he tells her because they both know what ‘five more minutes’ really means. “Want some coffee?”

“If it’s no bother,” she says and Jimmy assures her it’s not.

They make small talk waiting for their daughters. Cynthia and her daughter moved to Pontiac after her divorce a few years back, Claire and Emily becoming fast friends, and so Jimmy’s met Cynthia a few times already. She’s nice and their conversations are always pleasant, although lately Jimmy got the feeling she might be flirting with him a little. Oh, it’s nothing obvious – she’s keeping it very low-key – and it’s…

Well, it’s nice.

Most people tend to assume he and Dean are a couple and for Claire’s sake Jimmy’s glad no one’s taken up an issue with it. It doesn’t bother him – after all if he had any say in the matter it’d be true – but it also means no one’s bothered showing any interest in him for close to a year. Cynthia either hasn’t heard or doesn’t believe rumours and it’s a refreshing change.

Maybe they should have dinner?

After all nothing is ever going to happen with Dean – as immaterial as Castiel is he’ll always stand between them. Even if Dean showed the slightest interest in him how could Jimmy know he wasn’t trying to recreate what he had with Castiel? They look exactly the same!

No, really he can’t pine after Dean all his life. He should try to move on.

Of course that’s when the man in question steps through the door with a loud “Honey, I’m home!”

Jimmy mentally groans.

“Dean,” he says somewhat icily and Dean looks a bit taken aback by his tone. He rallies well enough though, taking in the sight with a raised eyebrow.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, sorry,” he says, sounding anything but. “Claire home?”

“Yeah, she’s studying for a test with Emily. Cynthia is going to drive them home.”


Dean disappears into the kitchen and Jimmy breathes a sigh of relief, offering an apologetic shrug at Cynthia who looks a bit puzzled.

“So,” he starts, trying to pick up where they left off. For some reason he can’t remember what they were just talking about and he feels jittery, like he got caught doing something wrong.

To make things worse Dean seems determined to make a nuisance of himself and Jimmy trails off when he sees him reappear in the doorway. He frowns. Dean isn’t one to actively seek out soccer moms – on the contrary he tends to avoid them like the plague – and so Jimmy is surprised when Dean flops down on the couch next to him with a beer and a too wide grin. He’s sitting closer than he usually does and Jimmy shifts uncomfortably, flushing when their thighs brush together.

Cynthia is looking a bit awkward and Jimmy clears his throat.

“You know Dean?” he asks, trying to make conversation and wondering when the atmosphere in the room got so tense.

She shakes her head and Dean offers her a hand to shake with a winning smile – and a muttered “Christo” he passes off as a cough. Jimmy isn’t fooled though and glares at him. It doesn’t faze Dean at all and when he ensconces himself in the couch, he casually drops an arm over its back, his fingers grazing Jimmy’s shoulder.

What the hell?

Cynthia looks like she’s cluing in on something and Jimmy would really like her to share with the class because he has no idea what Dean is playing at.

The girls come clambering down the stairs a second later, saving him from this madness, and he gets busy hugging Claire goodbye and waving them off. When he finally closes the door and turns around to face Dean, the man is disappearing up the stairs.

“What was that about?” he yells after him, and the only answer he gets is the slamming of a door.


He is jealous,” Castiel says and Jimmy shakes his head with a snort.

“Right,” he mutters bitterly.

You were afraid you would lose him when he got hurt. Why is it so inconceivable that he would fear losing you as well?

Jimmy flinches and tries not to feel guilty. It’s not the same, he wants to argue. He is in love with Dean and Dean is in love with Castiel – really, Jimmy can’t be blamed for trying to move on. It’s not his fault Dean’s got abandonment issues, is it? And it’s not like he was planning on marrying Cynthia on their first date and throwing Dean out of the house. It’s his home too now, Jimmy would never ask him to leave!

Dean cares about you more than you think,” Castiel says and Jimmy really wishes Castiel would stop reading his thoughts or whatever it is he’s doing because discussing his feelings for Dean with him is awkward.

“What are you saying?” he asks, rubbing his face with both hands. God, he is tired. Everything is a mess.

I cannot walk the plains of Earth and Dean will live a long life,” Castiel says and Jimmy feels both his love and sorrow. “He deserves to be happy – and so do you.”

Wait a second – is he actually saying…

Amusement and warmth dance around him as Castiel continues.

I know you, Jimmy Novak. You were my vessel for three years and you are a good man. You have my thanks – and my love, if you will have it. You are what Dean wants, no matter how hard you both try to convince yourself otherwise.”

Jimmy sits down heavily on the staircase and Castiel retreats respectfully to let him gather his thoughts.

This is… unexpected, to say the least.

And he really needs to talk to Dean.

Dean, of course, doesn’t make it easy for him. He knows Jimmy wants to talk to him – the incessant knocking on his door might have given him a clue – and therefore is dead set on avoiding him.

If there is one thing Jimmy has learned about Dean Winchester since he’s moved in, it’s that he doesn’t like to talk about his feelings. Jimmy isn’t a huge fan either – he is a guy – but he was married for 15 years and has a teenage daughter: he got used to it.

Dean doesn’t emerge from his room that evening and he is gone by the time Jimmy gets up the next morning. He feels a pang of panic, thinking Dean’s taken off for good, but no, all his stuff is still in his room.

He is distracted all day and comes home from work to find a message on the answering machine telling him that Dean’s gone to see Sam for the week-end.

Jimmy grits his teeth and tells Castiel Dean is impossible.

Castiel doesn’t necessarily disagree.


He is sitting on the couch when he hears the rumbling of the Impala pulling up in the driveway on Sunday evening. Dean cuts the engine and Jimmy strains to hear the car door opening and closing. There is nothing though and Jimmy imagines Dean sitting in his car and staring at the house, debating whether to come in.

The light is on in the living room and Dean will know he is waiting.

Now it’s up to him.

Seconds stretch into minutes and when Jimmy finally hears the tell-tale sound of a car door slamming shut he exhales quietly and wipes sweaty palms on his jeans.

He listens to Dean come in, shrug off his coat and take off his shoes just a few feet away. He stands when Dean comes into view – they are going to talk about this – and Dean stops, raising his hands in the air defensively to pre-empt Jimmy from saying anything.

“Look, I get it, okay? That was out of line. You can date whoever you want, that’s cool. I’ll stay out of your way.”

Having said that Dean turns on his heel and takes the stairs three at a time, clearly thinking the conversation is closed.

“Dean, wait a second!” Jimmy calls after him, taking off after him when Dean doesn’t slow down.

He catches up with him in the hallway, grabbing his arm to stop him –

“Dean! Will you just –”

And finds himself flung into the nearest wall when Dean’s reflexes kick in, the air knocked out of him and stars dancing in front of his eyes.

“Shit, sorry,” Dean mumbles and tries to step away except Jimmy – well, Jimmy kisses him.

It’s not much, just the barest press of lips on lips, until Dean comes alive and presses him back against the wall, deepening the kiss with lips and tongue and teeth. It’s hot and wet and messy, edged with desperation and a hint of frustration and Jimmy wonders if Dean’s been with anyone since Castiel. The thought makes him moan and Dean wrenches away, looking like he’s just been punched.

Jimmy instinctively reaches out for him to prevent his flight and his hand closes over Castiel’s mark on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s sharp intake of breath loud in the stillness.

“Dean,” he and Castiel say at the same time and Dean freezes, causing Jimmy to let him go abruptly.

“Cas?” Dean asks tentatively, suspicious and hopeful, and– oh. Oh.

“You heard that?” Jimmy wonders out loud.

He did,” Castiel confirms, sounding just as awed, and Jimmy doesn’t really think about it twice – he grabs Dean’s shoulder again, shoving his clothes away to touch warm skin, Dean oddly pliant under his hands. Jimmy purposefully does not think about the fact that he might be ruining his chances with Dean – or that Dean was kissing him back just a minute ago – because otherwise he might let go again and he doesn’t want to be that kind of person.

Thank you,” Castiel tells him, “everything will be well now.”

Then he turns his attention to Dean and Jimmy feels all kinds of awkward standing in front of Dean, touching him, while Castiel talks to him. He tries not to listen – really, he does, but it’s hard when Castiel’s words resonate through his head – until he gathers that Castiel is trying to convince Dean that caring for Jimmy isn’t a betrayal, that he can and does and should and that it doesn’t mean he loves Castiel any less.

He only hears Castiel’s side of the conversation but judging from Dean’s occasional bout of harsh laughter and headshakes, the man is being stubborn. And feeling guilty, seeing as he won’t look at Jimmy either, staring at the floor instead.

But slowly Dean starts to wound down, Castiel’s voice gentle and loving and “you both have my blessing”, and finally Dean’s head comes up, his lips seeking out Jimmy’s blindly and Castiel sings with joy.

The kiss is slow and tender, almost lazy in its exploration, and Jimmy is vaguely aware in the back of his mind that his hand is still splayed on Castiel’s handprint but he doesn’t care, not when Dean’s fingers are in his hair, tilting his head back and deepening the kiss and –

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jimmy says, tearing his mouth away from Dean’s and letting his hand drop away. His breath is coming in short pants and it’s hard to concentrate but he’s got to ask this. “Who are you kissing?”

Dean groans. “Dude. You want to talk too?”

Jimmy stares at him pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest, and Dean sighs with a martyred look.

“Fine, here is the thing. You don’t act like Cas, you don’t sound like Cas – Hell, most of the time you don’t even look like him. So yeah, I’m kissing you.”

Which isn’t the most romantic way of looking at things but coming from Dean, it’s a big deal and Jimmy knows it.

This time his hand bypasses Dean’s shoulder entirely, coming to rest on the back of his neck instead. He plays with the short hairs for couple of seconds before tugging Dean forward, bringing their mouths back together.

Dean comes willingly and it isn’t long before the kiss turns into something more, their hands wandering and grasping and stroking. It makes Jimmy hard and he can feel Dean’s answering hardness digging into his hip. A rather vivid flashback of that cock inside him leaves him gasping and shaking, so turned on he can barely think and –




Dean seems to agree with his conclusion and they slowly make their way towards the bedroom, reluctant to break the kiss. They lose their shirts at some point and Jimmy almost trips on his own two feet a couple of times. He feels Dean smile against his mouth at his display of clumsiness and thinks Castiel probably never was anything but self-possessed.

He is surprisingly okay with that.

They stumble onto the bed and Dean crawls on top of him, the feel of their bare chests pressed together making Jimmy dizzy with want. He’s been waiting for this for a long time and from the feverish way Dean is kissing he probably wasn’t the only one.

They kiss and touch and moan, Dean lingering on spots that make him whimper and on others that do not. He looks smug at the formers and surprised at the latters, and inordinarily pleased about both. Castiel and Jimmy, it seems, aren’t a perfect match in bed either and so Dean sets out to rediscover what makes Jimmy’s body tick when he is the one in command with glee.

Jimmy’s own hands trail over Dean’s body, hesitant at first then with growing confidence when Dean shudders and arches into his touch. He counts the scars and the freckles on Dean’s body and figures he must be doing just fine when Dean forgets what he is doing to grind down against him instead, the hard length of his cock thrusting against Jimmy’s.

Fuck, they really need to get out of those pants.

He fumbles with the button on Dean’s jeans, growing frustrated when it proves contrary, but luckily Dean is more than eager to help, batting Jimmy’s hands away to do the job himself. It allows Jimmy to concentrate on his own pants instead and when he looks back at Dean, the man is naked and damn, the brief glimpses he got from Castiel really didn’t do him justice.

He doesn’t get time to stare though because Dean’s hand closes around his cock and Jimmy’s eyes flutter shut for a second or ten, opening again when Dean starts kissing his way down his chest.

Oh God…

He is good at this,” Castiel says, sounding almost smug and Jimmy swears loudly.

“Castiel…” he says warningly because he is trying really hard not to come right now and he is not helping!

“He still here?” Dean asks, biting Jimmy’s hipbone lightly. It makes him see stars and twist up against Dean, his fingers tangling with Dean’s hair to keep him there and get more, and right, he hadn’t known he liked that.

He tries to catch his breath and huffs a laugh that transforms into a moan when Dean licks his way up his cock. “He’s always here.”

“You mind?”

“No,” Jimmy answers truthfully and Dean’s grin is blinding.

“Kinky,” he says and takes Jimmy’s cock in his mouth.

The sound Jimmy makes is not a wail and he finds himself thrusting helplessly into Dean’s mouth until Dean’s hands circle his hips and hold him down, stroking his sides lightly. And Jimmy tries to slow down, he really does, but everything feels too good and too hot and when Dean starts sucking on the head of his cock he comes embarrassingly fast, straining against Dean’s hands.

He is still trying to catch his breath when Dean pulls back, letting him out of his mouth with a wet sound. His lips are bruised and his cock is hard, and Jimmy wants more.

You want him to take you,” Castiel whispers, “you want him inside of you. I know.

“Yes,” Jimmy groans and spreads his legs wide, exposing himself. He blushes under Dean’s eyes and Castiel’s “yes, like that…” and knows he’ll feel embarrassed later for how wantonly he is behaving, but right now he doesn’t care.

“Damn, look at you,” Dean says, his voice rough and gravely. His fingers trace Jimmy’s entrance, making him tremble – oh God, Dean is going to fuck him. Dean is going to fuck him.

“Please,” he begs, although he doesn’t know for what, and Dean nods.

“Lube?” he asks and Jimmy gestures towards the bedside table. He bought it the day before in a bout of daring and optimism and his blush burns hotter when Dean raises a teasing eyebrow and fishes out the unopened bottle along with a condom.

He watches with a bizarre fascination as Dean pours some over his fingers. He doesn’t know what to expect, not really – Castiel may have done this before but he hasn’t, although it wasn’t for lack of wanting – and starts when Dean pushes the first finger in, an intent look on his face.

It feels… strange. It’s not painful, his muscles loosened by his orgasm, but it doesn’t particularly feel good either. Dean pulls back and adds another and Jimmy’s breath hitches – that’s a bit uncomfortable –, except then Dean touches something inside him and his eyes go wide.

“Dean…” Jimmy says and Dean does it again and again, making him cry out from the sheer pleasure of it. His spent cock twitches with interest and Dean fucks him with his fingers, loosening him from the inside. They’re both breathing hard by now and Dean leans down to kiss him, open-mouthed and dirty and good.

It seems to last forever and it ends too soon. Dean pulls back and rolls the condom onto his cock, adding more lube with hands that shake a little. Then he is pressing in and Jimmy instinctively clamps down, fighting the intrusion.

“Ssshhh, relax,” Dean and Castiel both say, and Jimmy wants to ask how the fuck he is supposed to do that – he’s got a cock up his ass! – except what comes out is a whine.

It burns.

Dean holds still and eventually his body remembers that it’s done this before, even if Jimmy hasn’t. It remembers how to loosen around Dean and let him in and Dean takes advantage of that, pressing deeper.

He moves in small increments, pulling away and pushing back in a little farther, giving Jimmy plenty of time to get used to it. The burning lessens until all he feels is full, groaning when Dean bottoms out and he’s got all of him inside him.

“Jimmy…” Dean grunts and starts thrusting, slow, careful motions of his hips that hit that spot inside him and leave Jimmy breathless.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” he pants, pushing back against Dean and trying to take more, anything.

“Christ, look at you,” Dean moans and seals their lips together, fucking his mouth as slowly as he is fucking his ass.

It makes Jimmy hard again and he clings to him, fingers digging into Dean’s back and ass and arms, anywhere he can reach, trying to urge him on. Then his hand brush against Dean’s shoulder, the one with Castiel’s mark on it, and Dean makes a sound not unlike a whimper. Jimmy grins and closes his hand over it.

Castiel chuckles and Dean swears.

“Fuck,” he says and his next thrust is harder, breaking out of the nice and easy rhythm he’s established.

“Yes,” Jimmy groans and his hold involuntarily tightens, causing Dean’s self-control to break.

He pounds into Jimmy without restrain, a string of expletives entwined with “Jimmy” and “Cas” falling from his lips. He is flushed with arousal and his pupils are blown, his lips swollen – God, he is beautiful. Jimmy wraps his free hand around his cock and jerks himself off just as frantically as Dean is fucking him, gasping loudly every time Dean hits his prostate.

His second orgasm takes him almost by surprise and he cries out, feeling himself tighten around Dean who comes a few seconds later, sucking on Jimmy’s come-stained fingers while his body goes rigid and his hips jerk against Jimmy’s ass.

They remain locked together for a minute or two, their heartbeats slowing down and their breathing growing more even, and then Dean pulled out slowly, leaving Jimmy feeling empty and a bit sore. He gets rid of the condom and flops down on the bed next to him, rolling over to nuzzle Jimmy’s throat. He is sweaty and warm against Jimmy’s side and –

He is happy,” Castiel says and Jimmy nods with a smile. He knows.

“You two talking about me again?” Dean asks sleepily, sounding very pleased with himself, and Jimmy traces the handprint with a finger, letting him feel Castiel’s contentment.

Dean mumbles something unintelligible, smiling drowsily against Jimmy’s skin and throwing an arm over his chest. Jimmy closes his eyes, feeling just as happy and letting Dean’s comforting weight and steady breathing lull him into slumber.

They sleep, a smile lingering on their faces, and Castiel watches over them.