The first time Dean kissed Ophelia it came as no surprise to find that she tasted of honey. They had been in a bar and Ophelia had been talking to an annoyingly tall, dark and handsome man as she sipped her drink, laughing at a joke the man had just made. Dean had rolled his eyes as he'd walked over to them and slipped an arm around Ophelia's waist, leaning in to ask her, "You got a minute?"
She had nodded, downing the rest of her drink and excusing herself from the man. As she had followed Dean to a quiet corner of the bar, she had raised an eyebrow in silent question and patiently waited.
Dean had attempted to think on his feet before feebly telling her, "That guy looks shifty."
She had stared at him suspiciously before looking back to the man at the bar. He had been joking with the bartender, an easy smile lighting up his features. When she had looked back at Dean, she had been taken aback by the look in his eyes and asked him outright, "Are you jealous?"
"What? No." He had shaken his head but the deer-in-the-headlights look had given him away instantly.
"You are." She had laughed but when hurt had flickered in his eyes, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and told him, "Tall, dark and smooth isn't really my type."
"Isn't it?" He had tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, he really had. It was a shame that he had failed miserably.
"No." She had chuckled again before offering him one of the rare smiles that she reserved only for him, Sam and Emmelina. "I prefer tall, dirty-blonde hunters."
His arms had automatically wrapped around her waist and a pout had graced his lips as he had complained, "I'm smooth."
"No, you really aren't." She had stood up on tiptoes after that and he had immediately forgiven her dismissal of him being 'smooth' when she had huskily whispered in his ear, "Y'all are hot as hell though."
That had been all the invitation he had needed to slip a hand into her hair and pull her into a kiss. He could taste the whiskey she had been drinking but what stood out most was the taste of honey. He spent so much time with her, watching her add the sweetener to yoghurt, tea, toast, pancakes, hell she even added it to salad dressing, so there was no other taste he could have expected. When he had finally pulled away, dizzy and wanting more, he had asked, "You like honey, right?"
"Yeah I love honey." She had stared at him in confusion, she knew that he knew the answer to that question without her having to confirm it. "Why?"
He had offered her a sexy smirk and mumbled, "I just had a great idea of how we could put some of it to good use."
They had left the bar that night hand-in-hand and Ophelia hadn't been chatted up by any 'tall, dark and smooths' in a bar since. Dean had also developed a liking for honey, something he previously hadn't bothered with.