disclaimer: I don't own SPN or any of its characters.
SPN4x20. There is an open phone line between a vacated vessel and his angel, and too bad for Jimmy, he isn't exempt.
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Phone Sex, but Unconventional
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Jimmy dunked his head under the spray, rinsing the soap foams, as he ran his fingers through the locks of curly brunette hair.
This was another mundane luxury he didn't know he would miss so dearly, though he was never dirty in any ordinary sense during possession, his taut muscles hadn't been this relaxed in literally ages. And Jimmy closed his eyes to face the gentle massages of manmade rain, pelting against his cheeks; the warmth of the pour ran rivers down his body, where he had been stabbed and shot but later remade whole, easily washing away the ten months of accumulating fatigue and pain and for the moment taking all the misery down the drain.
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(... ... ah-hhh... ...)
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Jimmy jerked, turning around, water dripping and stinging his eyes when he opened them too quickly. For a second he was sure he heard the ghostly echo of a silent whine, but only the cracked and slightly dirty tiles of cheap motel appliance greeted his suspicious glare. There was nothing.
But now that Jimmy had an unwanted library full of supernatural knowledge stuffed against his will into his brain, he could no longer dismiss disembodied calls as simple paranoia, and, frowning with worry after a short pause, Jimmy carefully turned off the tap and pulled back the shower curtains to inspect the corners of the tiny bathroom.
There was still nothing.
And Jimmy stepped out of the shower, with some uncertainty, reaching for the towels on the rack.
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(... ... ... ah-h-hhh... ... ...)
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Jimmy gasped, the towel falling from his loose fingertips and landed in a soft pile at his feet. The illusive sounds, slightly more substantial this time it almost felt tangible, sent tingles down his body.
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This story is incomplete on this site. Due to its MA rating, the COMPLETE STORY is posted at AO3 under the same title.