Five Times Jo Almost Kissed Dean (and the one time she did)

Supernatural

Dean/Jo

PG

Summary: The title says it all.

Jo tilted with Dean.

“Whoa.” She stumbled with Dean’s arm slung around her shoulders. His body followed his legs as he entered the motel room, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

Another night of too much partying. She didn’t blame him though. They deserved a night out after two weeks straight of hunting.

Jo steadied Dean, hoping he’d make it to the bed before collapsing. She grabbed the leather jacket that was draped on his shoulders and set it on a chair. He mumbled something about his car keys.

“Sam has them,” she said. “He went to get some coffee to sober you up.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not drunk.” His words slurred into one long syllable.

“Sure, Dean.” She helped him sit down on the bed. He swayed back and forth. She placed a hand on his chest to keep him from moving. “Just don’t puke on me, okay?”

She knelt down and started to take off his boots.

Above her, Dean let out a heavy sigh.

“You know, we’ve got about ten, fifteen minutes before Sam comes back,” he said.

Jo looked up at him. His lips were curled into a smirk.

“You’re disgusting,” she said, her own lips curling.

“I’m just saying what you’re thinking.”

She yanked off his boots and stepped away from him. Without her support, Dean fell flat on his back. The mattress squeaked under his weight.

He held up a hand. “Come here.”

“You’re drunk,” she said.

“Not that drunk.” He waved his hand. “I know what I’m doing.”

Like a fool, she went to him. He put his hand behind her knee, bringing her closer. She sat down next to him.

A minute ago, Dean’s eyes were glassy, red shot; now they were wide, alert. Maybe he was telling the truth. He knew what he was doing.

“Don’t you want to kiss me, Jo?” He ran his hand up her leg, letting it rest at her waist. “Because I really, really want to kiss you.”

And she did. She really, really wanted to kiss him.

She touched his face, stroking his scruffy cheek with her fingers. He closed his eyes in response.

A moment passed before Dean’s light snores filled the room.

Jo kept her hand on his face. “Night, Dean.”

**

The demon’s screeches pierced Jo’s ears. She covered them with her hands and huddled against the wall.

Dean sheltered her from the relentless wind that pounded on them.

The demon advanced towards them. The wind intensified.

This was it. This was the end.

“Jo.”

She looked up as the wind carried her name.

“Jo.”

It was Dean saying her name.

He stared at her, and despite the blood and the bruises, he still managed to smile at her. Anything to make her feel better, forget. She zoomed in on his lips. Just once. Just one kiss.

Jo met Dean’s gaze again. Something in his eyes told her he was thinking the same thing.

A last kiss.

It’d be a perfect way to go.

Jo moved her head closer to Dean, ignoring the demon and its wind. As her eyelids fluttered shut, her hair stopped blowing and the screeching subsided.

She opened her eyes, her face inches away from Dean’s.

Both of them turned and saw Sam standing where the demon had been seconds earlier. He lowered his rifle and stepped over the corpse.

“Did I interrupt something?” Sam asked.

“Shut up,” Jo and Dean said.

**

Dean cornered Jo in the back room of the Roadhouse. She inhaled and kept the breath tucked in her chest.

“We can’t,” she said.

But, his fingers played with her hair, drew circles on the small of her back, and made a trail up her bare arms.

“How long, Jo?” His voice broke. “How long are we going to keep doing this?”

She lowered her head. “That’s not fair.”

“None of this is. Someone’s going to get hurt either way.”

She lifted her head, met his gaze dead-on. “And I don’t want it to be him.”

Dean didn’t move for a moment. He kept his body pressed to hers, and Jo could feel his heart--her heart--pounding. It was always the wrong place, the wrong time for the two of them.

His fingers returned to her skin, and he whispered, “Jo.”

She licked her lips, arching her back, directing her mouth to his when the door swung open and Sam walked in.

Startled, Jo pushed herself away from Dean.

“Sam,” she said.

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t say anything as he stormed out of the room.

Jo stood there in the middle, between Dean and Sam, unable to move. Unable to choose.

“Let me go talk to him,” Dean said.

“What will you say?” she asked.

“What do you want me to say?”

She had no answer to give him.

**

In between jobs, Jo and Dean took turns doing the crossword puzzles in the paper. They sat in the same seat in the diner with the newspaper sections spread out in front of them.

With their pens in their hands, they prepared themselves for the challenge.

“Four letters. Small racing vehicle,” Dean said.

Jo tapped her chin. “Try kart.”

Dean scribbled down the word. “It’s a fit.”

Jo smiled. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

“We sure do.” He looked over the puzzle. “Okay, how about this one? Five letters. Waking mechanism.”

“Easy,” Jo said. “Alarm.”

Once Dean wrote down the word, he let out a low whistle. “Damn, you’re good. You’re almost as smart as Sam.”

She bumped her shoulder into his. “Then, how come you don’t do these stupid puzzles with him?”

“He might be smarter, but he’s not as fun.”

Jo smiled again. This time, Dean smiled back.

Everything around Jo faded away. This might be it. The moment she’d been waiting for.

“You’re like the little sister I’ve always wanted,” Dean said with a shrug.

Jo blinked. “Sister?”

“Yeah.” He turned his attention back to the puzzle. “How about this, Miss Know-It-All? Nine letters. A refusal.”

She snatched the puzzle from Dean and crammed the letters into the small black and white boxes.

R-E-J-E-C-T-I-O-N.

**

Jo could feel Dean’s lingering gaze on her as she danced in the middle of the bar’s floor. He’d been watching her all night. Everything from the techno to the country to the rock to the rap.

Good.

Her tank top stuck to her sticky body. She wiped the sweat from the back of her neck and walked up to the bar. She picked up her cold beer bottle and finished off the drink.

Dean approached her. Finally.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he said.

She gave him a teasing smile. “Like what?”

He gestured to the dance floor. “That.”

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked, amused with the situation.

His gaze moved down her body. “A little.”

She punched him playfully on his arm.

He laughed and rubbed his arm. “What was that for?”

She wiggled her nose. “A little?” She turned from him. “Sometimes I think you’re just totally clueless, Dean.”

He grabbed her arm, spinning her back around to face him. “Okay, it was hot. Is that what you want to hear? You were great. You really knew how to shake your ass.”

“You were watching my ass?”

“For like a minute.”

She frowned.

“Okay, maybe two…or three…” Dean leaned towards her. “I can’t help it. It’s a nice ass.”

His forehead touched hers. Jo cupped his face and smiled just as Dean was about to kiss her.

“Hey, Sam.” She pulled away from Dean and searched for the other brother. “Sam.”

Sam appeared on the other side of the bar.

“I hope you saw all of that,” Jo said, grinning.

“Yeah, I did,” Sam mumbled.

Dean looked from Jo to Sam. “What’s going on?”

Jo held out her hand. Sam put a twenty dollar bill in her palm.

“Just a friendly wager,” Jo said. “Sam bet me twenty bucks I couldn’t get you to kiss me.”

“But, I didn’t kiss you,” Dean said.

“You wanted to. Close enough.” Jo flashed the bill in front of the brothers. “Come on. I’ll buy you two a drink.” She leaned over to Dean and said in his ear, “You up for a private dance later?”

He skimmed her bottom with his hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

Jo took that as a yes.

**

Jo’s cheeks burned. They were probably the color of the setting sun in the sky. She turned her head to look at the red horizon.

Next to her, Dean scooted closer as they sat on the hood of the Impala. He didn’t say anything.

He was quiet. Like the moment they were sharing right now.

She knew what was coming up. She anticipated it. She imagined it.

She wanted it.

Dean took her hand into his, interlacing their fingers. He pulled their conjoined hands to his lap.

She looked back at him. His eyes twinkled. They fucking twinkled.

He gave her a slow smile. The sun’s shadow glided over his face, but it did nothing to his bright smile.

Jo hunched over. Her knees touched Dean’s. She studied their hands. It was almost hard to tell whose hand belonged to whom. They were one.

“So.” How could Dean make one word sound so damn sexy?

She lifted her gaze to his face. No more shadows. Just Dean and his smile.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” he said.

Jo wanted to smile and laugh and cry--all at the same time.

She did none of those.

Instead, she leaned over, placed her lips on Dean’s, and kissed him.

She never got to see the sun go down.