AN: This is a slightly sanitized version of this particular chapter. If you wish to read the uncensored one, I have it posted on AO3. Head over to my profile and you'll find a link to my page.
Jo sits in front of the fireplace in Bobby's living room, twirling a glass of whiskey between her fingers. The flickering flames cast shadows all around her, faintly illuminating the darkened space in mesmerizing swirls, as she thinks about tomorrow's mission.
The others all went to bed a while ago. She was feeling restless, so she'd decided to have a few more drinks before retiring. But, even though that had been several hours ago, she still feels wide awake. She's sure everyone else is just as keyed up about the up-coming hunt. They're simply better at not showing it.
But there's something else on her mind, besides the very real possibility of death while trying to take out the Devil. Someone else.
Jo sighs as she replays her earlier interaction with Dean in her mind, and thinks of the slightly disappointed look on the other hunter's face. She'd flat out turned him down. She rubs a finger along the rim of her glass, pondering.
After almost three years of—in one way or another—dreaming about it, when it'd finally happened, she'd said no thanks. And she'd meant it in that moment. When it came to someone like Dean, she wanted it to be more than just a roll in the sheets. She'd be damned if she'd be just another notch on his bedpost. Not after all that time she'd spent pining after him. If it was ever going to happen, she'd wanted it to mean something.
Looking back into the flames, Jo sifts through all their other interactions. The look on Dean's face earlier was one she'd seen a few times throughout their history. She remembers the first time he'd tried to flirt with her, then thought better of it. That same uncertainty had been there tonight, when he'd approached her in the kitchen. Was he just angling for a night of fun before what he thought might be the end? Jo really can't tell.
Reaching for the cellphone she'd dropped on a stack of Bobby's books by her chair, Jo realizes that it's way past time she had some rest. It's just after midnight. She wonders if Dean's already asleep, or if he's just as twitchy as she is. She shakes her head, straightens, and downs the rest of her whiskey in one gulp.
To Hell with it. She won't be able to sleep no matter how much she drinks. Either the mission or the thought of screwing Dean senseless is going to keep her up all night and she'll be dead on her feet tomorrow. And that could lead to being literally dead if she can't keep her eyes open. Or to getting others killed along with herself. She needs an outlet. Something to distract her and also tire her out.
And Jo's just tipsy enough to not overthink what this might mean in the long run. It can be a one time thing or—if they survive—something more. She doesn't really care at the moment. She needs this tonight. And it's going to be on her terms. Dean will just be along for the ride.
Suppressing a snort, Jo gets up and heads for the kitchen. As she passes the couch, she peers at Cas, who's sprawled out on it with one leg hanging off. The angel's eyes are closed and Jo finds herself wondering if he'd fallen asleep. Sam had told her earlier that, apparently, angels don't need to sleep. Now she thinks that they just might, if they imbibe enough liquor. Jo shakes her head and smiles, then goes to put her empty glass in the sink.
Wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans, Jo makes her way up the stairs. She's supposed to share a room with her mother, but hopes her absence won't be noticed. She doesn't intend to stick around, after, so maybe her mom won't figure it out.
There's the sound of running water coming from the direction of the bathroom. Jo freezes at the top of the stairs, like a deer caught in the headlights. If it's her mom, her plan's ruined. Then she notices that the door to Dean's room is slightly ajar.
Just as she breathes a sigh of relief, the man in question exits the bathroom and Jo starts moving again. That's when Dean spots her and he stops by his door.
"Hey," he whispers, and a look of surprize crosses his face. "I thought you'd be asleep by now."
"Couldn't turn my brain off," Jo says. "Decided to try to down it in liquor."
"Did it work?" This time, Jo can't decipher his expression.
"Not really," she rubs her hands together briefly, then quickly stops. She doesn't want him to see that she's nervous. "Can I… can I talk to you for a minute?"
There goes trying to hide her inner turmoil. Get it together, Harvelle! she thinks to herself. You used to dream of this.
"Sure," Dean sounds confused, but he smiles at her as he pushes open the bedroom door and beckons her ahead of him.
Now or never, she thinks. She steps inside and to the right and, when Dean follows, Jo pushes the door closed. She moves towards him just as he turns at the sound and shoves him against the wall to the left, crowding into his personal space.
"Jo, what...?" he's startled and his eyes widen for a moment, hands coming to grasp her elbows.
Jo doesn't let him finish his sentence, just rises on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. Dean responds almost immediately, kissing back and pulling her closer to him. He gasps when she runs her tongue along the seam of his lips, and she nearly pounces on the chance to deepen the kiss. A frisson of pleasure runs through her at the touch of his tongue against hers and she sighs, content. Then growls when he pulls away.
"Are you sure?" Dean asks, and his voice is rough, pupils blown wide when he searches her face. She throws him a dirty look.
"Shut up!" she hisses and attacks his mouth again.
Dean inhales sharply, wrapping his arms around her. He splays his hands across her back and pulls her closer again. Jo kisses across his jaw, sucks on his neck, and she feels him tense. Her hands find purchase along his sides, while his own dip to the small of her back and then her hips. He squeezes lightly. She arches into him, then, and he groans, raspy and frantic sounding.
The thin sweatpants Dean is wearing leave little to the imagination as to how hard he already is. Jo grins, reaches a hand to run through the short hairs at the nape of his neck and gently bites his earlobe.
The way Dean's fingers flex on her hips, the way he involuntarily moves against her, the sounds escaping him, it all makes it seem like he's coming apart at the seams. And he probably is, she thinks. Oh, this is going to be fun.
The moment Jo bites at his ear, Dean is infinitely grateful that there's a wall behind him. He tries not to whimper—and fails—then locks his knees so he doesn't slide down to the floor. Jo chuckles and rakes her nails down his ribs, runs her teeth along his jaw and kisses him, open-mouthed.
Dean bites back a moan when she goes for his throat again, her hands this time pulling his t-shirt up over his chest, making him shiver.
"Clothes off!" Jo breathes against his sternum.
Dean nods, shirt halfway over his head, as Jo continues running her lips down his body. She stops at the waistband of his pants, then straightens and pulls her own top off.
"You're way too overdressed for this," Dean says, grinning.
He drags his fingertips from her hips, along her sides and across her back, and deftly undoes the clasp of her bra. As Jo shakes the garment off her arms, Dean circles his touch back, to the front of her jeans. In a few quick motions, he unbuttons them and pushes them to just above her knees.
But then Jo growls again. She smacks his hands away, the look in her eyes making him gulp audibly. He's in trouble. Just as he thinks she's going to punch him—or kick him—she puts her hand on his stomach, making his muscles contract at her heated touch, then slowly drags it down. And grips him through his sweatpants. Strokes lightly.
The sound he lets loose is kind of embarrassing, somewhere between a moan and a whine. Again, Dean is glad to have the wall behind him. He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose to regain some measure of control. Once he has that, he grabs Jo's hand and gently moves it up a few inches.
Jo looks up, her features twisting into a grin, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She crooks her fingers and slowly scratches across his navel. Dean's breath catches. He wonders if she's trying to kill him. And knows he's going to let her if she is.
"Maybe..." his voice comes out sounding hoarse, so he clears his throat. "Maybe we should take this to the bed."
"Mhm, yeah…"
Jo takes a step back and toes her shoes off, then pulls her panties and jeans down the rest of the way, until they're off too. Dean's mouth goes dry as she stands in front of him in all her naked glory. There's an anti-possession tattoo below and to the left of her navel. Dean swallows. His fingers are itching to touch her. But he's figured out that she seems to like manhandling him, so he doesn't do that just yet. He'll let her take the lead.
"Now you're the one who's overdressed," Jo quips.
"Gonna do something about that?" It's his turn to smirk at the hungry look she gives him.
Jo grabs the waistband of his pants, not yet removing them. She uses her grip to turn him so that his back is to the bed, then pulls upward and down, letting the sweats fall. Biting her lower lip, she sweeps her gaze up and down his naked form. She hums and Dean gets the distinct impression that she'd like nothing more than to eat him alive. He's not complaining.
"That's better," Jo says, in a sultry voice.
They trade hungry kisses and grope for a while, breathing harshly. Jo'shands wander everywhere she can reach, and Dean strives to do the same, wanting to hear her make some of the sounds he's making. Dean smirks against Jo's lips when he's moderately successful. Then, without warning, she hooks her foot behind one of his legs and sends them both tumbling down onto the bed.
It takes them a bit of maneuvering to get into the right position. Lucky the bed's big enough for that. Still, Jo ends up elbowing him in the gut and they both laugh at that. When Dean digs his fingers into her ribs, Jo yelps and tries to squirm out of his hold. Ticklish, huh. He lets go and files that away for future reference.
Having found a comfortable position, with Jo lying on top of him, knees either side of his hips, they kiss lazily for a while. Dean runs his hands up her thighs and back, then down again. Jo pries his hands off her hips and holds them in her smaller ones, on the pillow, just above his head. Dean groans. That turns him on even more and he has to take a deep breath, to calm down some. He closes his eyes.
"Damn it," he huffs, trying very hard not to arch his back. "The condoms are in my... ah... duffel."
"Don't really need them," Jo says.
Dean's eyes snap open at that. She stops to look at him, then lets go of one of his hands and straightens a bit so she can drag her nails down his stomach.
"I got an IUD put in, 'bout a year ago." She smirks and grinds against him. "So, unless you really wanna wrap it up, I'm good."
"You sure?" Dean grunts when Jo rolls her hips again. "Okay…"
She lets go of his other hand so she can get into position, then sinks down on him, slow as molasses. They both hold still for a few minutes, adjusting to the new sensation. Then Jo starts moving and he loses his train of thought. Dean tries to be as quiet as possible and, by the bitten-back sounds she makes, so does Jo.
"Oh, God!" Jo whispers on the tail-end of a gasp, her movements becoming more and more erratic.
Dean groans as they both reach the finish line in quick succession.
For quite some time after, they do nothing but breathe. When Jo shifts off him, Dean's worried for a moment that she'll just get up and leave. She does get out of bed, but doesn't reach for her own clothes.
"Be right back," Jo whispers and kisses his forehead.
As if she'd read his mind. Dean blinks at her retreating back as she pads out into the hallway, dressed only in his t-shirt. Bathroom, that's where she's gone, he thinks, as he hears her flush the toilet. He gets up, too, and pulls his sweats on just as Jo tiptoes back into his room.
When he returns, he finds Jo still in his t-shirt and lying on her side on the bed, half under the covers. Her eyes are closed and she looks content, and Dean tries not to panic at where this all might lead. He doesn't know why she changed her mind, not that he's complaining. He likes her, a lot. That's why he approached her tonight. That's also why he'd kept his distance, at first. To protect her from the danger of being in his orbit. But Jo's tougher than he gave her credit for, she is a good hunter and maybe, just maybe…
"I can hear you overthinking from all the way over here," Jo says, almost makes him jump out of his skin. "Come get some rest. We've got a big day tomorrow."
Dean can't help but smile at her last comment, at the reminder. He shuts the door and climbs into bed behind her, and Jo promptly turns to cling to him. Dean kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles against his chest, and then gently runs her fingers along the spot she'd earlier bitten. Dean's muscles contract, but he forces his mind to take Jo's advice. Don't overthink it. Not right now.
Jo seems to fall asleep within minutes, while it takes Dean some time to calm his frantic heartbeat. As sleep gradually claims him, the last thing on his mind is that he's so, so, so screwed. So screwed.
When Jo wakes up, she does so to the feeling of Dean kissing his way from between her shoulder blades, along her left shoulder, then back and to her neck. She squints in the dim light—Dean must have turned off the lamp after she fell asleep—and reaches for her phone. They still have some time until everyone wakes up.
She smiles when Dean hums against the hinge of her jaw. He runs his hand up her stomach to cup one of her breasts and fondle it through her pilfered t-shirt.
"I'm not getting this one back, am I?" Dean asks, his voice a rough whisper. Oh, she will definitely be keeping the shirt.
"It's not like you don't have others," she says.
Whatever retort Dean had planned is silenced by the squeak of her mom's bedroom door opening. They both still until the footsteps fade and the shower starts.
Then, before Jo has time to say anything else, Dean's hand slips between her legs and she has to bite her lip to keep from making too much noise.
"You wanna make a run for it while Ellen's in the shower?" His breath on the side of her neck sends jolts all the way to her toes.
"Nope," she says when she can properly get air into her lungs. Wow. "She'll be able to tell where I've been from the moment I step foot out of this room. I'll go when she's downstairs."
Jo can feel Dean's smile against her skin. So she decides it's time for some payback. Turning slightly in his arms, Jo manages to divest him of his sweats and gives him a taste of his own medicine.
With any of her other partners and hook-ups, she's never been able to come more than once per round. Everything else made her oversensitive. She doesn't know why it's different with Dean. And she doesn't have the time to sort that out.
As they struggle to get their breathing under control, Jo starts to worry that Dean's ruined her for anyone else. Again, that's not something she has the time to sort through this instant, so she shoves it to the back of her mind.
The sound of her mother exiting the bathroom and stomping down the stairs pulls Jo from her thoughts. She and Dean extricate themselves from each-other's embrace. Once she's dressed, Jo kisses him one last time—a few short pecks that make her want to jump back into bed with him—and heads for her room. Then to the shower.
As she washes up, she tries not to think about the looming mission to kill Lucifer. And fails. And then settles on really hoping that they all make it out of it alive. Because she really wants to screw Dean's brains out again.
To Jo's surprize, her mom doesn't ask her where she's been all night. No one talks much beyond what's strictly necessary. Dean makes a few lame jokes and everyone laughs halfheartedly. But Jo can see that, despite his outward bravado, he's also terrified of what's ahead. And she's very tempted to hitch a ride with him instead of her mom, almost asks Sam to switch places.
What changes her mind is the look of fear she sees on Sam's face when his brother isn't looking. If this is the end, Jo wants the two to have some more time together. Same with her and her mom.
Just after seven o'clock, when everything's ready and they're heading towards their respective vehicles, Dean pulls her aside in the hallway. When Jo gives him a confused look, he just shakes his head and draws her into a hard kiss. It's chaste, only lips and harsh breath, but feels desperate for some reason. There's a wild look in his eyes when he moves away. Something Jo can't decipher. And, in that moment, it sort of scares her.
"What was that for?" she asks him, voice soft so Bobby won't hear her.
"For good luck," Dean answers just as softly, and kisses her again, on the forehead this time. "Don't die out there."
And with that, he's off to his car. Jo can do nothing but follow, her mind reeling. Wondering what the Hell she'd gotten herself into with that man. And hoping she wouldn't regret it.