Chapter Text
“Come on, just one bite!” Jimmy laughs, holding out his fork. It’s got some kind of green stuff on it, covered in a vinaigrette or some shit.
Dean raises his eyebrows and leans away. “I don’t trust it. It’s green and calls itself salad, that right there is enough for me to not want to try it.”
“It’s not dangerous!”
“You wanna bet?” Dean scoffs. He shakes his head vehemently. No. He won’t cave on this. “How do you know it’s not poison?”
Jimmy rolls his eyes, and shoves the fork into his mouth. He chews pointedly, blue eyes boring into Dean from across the table, saying There, happy? Man up, Winchester. He swallows, licks his smirking lips, and takes a prim sip of lemonade before turning expectant puppy eyes on Dean. He stabs another forkful, offering it up.
“There, see? It’s not poison,” Jimmy assures. He wiggles the pasta salad stuff invitingly, like you would to a two-year-old. Dean is not two. “Please? Just one bite. For me?”
Dean manages a full five seconds before he rolls his eyes, groaning melodramatically. Those stupid fucking blue eyes and that sweet, innocent smile. “Ugh, fine, fine! One bite! But if I end up dead foaming at the mouth, we’ll know whose fault it is,” he warns, leaning across the table. Jimmy rolls his eyes but concedes, holding the fork still while Dean wraps his lips around it and moves back, taking the bite with him.
Dean chews, letting the sour taste of the vinaigrette coat his tongue, feeling the soggy squishiness of the pasta itself. It’s like they let it sit in water before serving it, and it’s cold, for fuck’s sake! He grimaces as he swallows it, immediately going for his Coke, and he glares at his snickering fiancé.
“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” he grumps petulantly, taking large gulps of Coke. “That was awful, people actually like that shit?””
The snickers become full-blown laughter, Jimmy doubling over in mirth. Dean tries to pout, tries to feel put out, but he can’t help the smile that takes over his face watching blue eyes sparkle and listening to that throaty laugh that he loves so much.
“Oh, I know, right?” Jimmy eventually settles, grinning brightly at him. “It tastes like baby food. I don’t know how people eat it.”
Dean’s brow furrows, and he’s confused. He has to agree about the baby food, though – he’d made the mistake of thinking that trying the stuff before he fed it to Henry would entice the little rascal into eating it. Apparently his seven-and-a-half-month-old nephew is smarter than him.
“So…” he starts, trying to work out his thoughts. “If you don’t like it, and I sure as hell don’t like it, then why did you get it?”
Jimmy bites his lip, his tell that this was a prank and Dean fell for it hook, line and sinker. “I’m an asshole?” he says, like it’s a question. “I was just messing with you. Your reaction was hilarious, by the way.”
At this point, their waiter comes over bringing a try with two more dishes on it: two burgers, stacked high with meat, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and onions, the mayo nearly dripping out the edges, and large portions of seasoned fries, skins still on them.
That looked more like their kind of food.
“Oh, you son of a bitch,” Dean laughs, leaning back so the waiter can set the food down. He turns a playful glare on Jimmy’s grinning face.
Jimmy giggles, nose scrunched adorably, eyes crinkled. “I couldn’t help it! You always have the best disgusted face. It’s like you’re personally offended about whatever it is.”
“That shit was a personal offense,” Dean argues, pulling his plate closer. The smell is mouthwatering, and he has to make a conscious effort not to start drooling. “I wouldn’t feed it to an herbivore that lives on it.”
Jimmy just shakes his head fondly, his foot nudging playfully against Dean’s leg. “Well, I apologize for offending your taste buds with the awful pasta salad. But this.” He picks up his burger, turning it like he’s inspecting it, before shining blue eyes meet Dean’s again. “You might like this.”
Dean smiles and leans across the table, stealing a soft, quick kiss. “I’m sure I will.”