Ship: Destiel
Summary: Castiel ponders how kissing works and ends up trying it out on Dean. One-shot.
Type: One-Shot
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters mentioned below. Destiel belongs to the fans.
A/N: Well I didn't think I did a very good job on this but eh. I might be adding a second part in Dean's point of view when I have time. Please review if you wish- I appreciate all feedback I can get.(:
xx, manhattan-dreams
"Dean, this isn't funny! The voice is saying I'm almost out of minutes!" Castiel stood in the darkness, on the sidewalk, listening to Dean ramble on about needing sleep, though he knew that it wouldn't come to him... violent dreams or something of the sort would.
"Okay," he said, once Dean was finished talking and they planned when they'd meet tomorrow. "I'll wait here." Castiel then hung up the phone and put it in the pocket of his tan trenchcoat, standing out in the chilled air, only his thoughts moving.
Even though he tried not to show it, he was confused about so many things. This world he was in... it was so different than Heaven, he couldn't imagine how his father could have created it. The pointless things, like the television. Or the loud things, like Dean's radio. Or the things he couldn't even categorize, like kissing.
For some reason, he'd been thinking a lot about kissing. About lips, saliva, tongues... how it even worked. He tried to tap into Jimmy's mind, but all that came was a feeling almost the same to how he felt when he looked at Dean, like thousands of butterflies fluttering from his heart to his knees, lasting only as long as the memory and fading away like the sunset to dusk.
He'd seen a couple kisses during his time on Earth, some on television, some in public places, but something told him not to look as closely as he wanted. He couldn't imagine Dean or Sam doing so, so Castiel was stuck not knowing how kissing worked, only with the information that it caused the butterfly feeling and that two lips met.
He also knew that it had something to do with love... not like the love he had for his father, but a different kind he also didn't understand. What did love feel like? Why was it such a big deal? He knew that he was an angel, and that he wasn't supposed to feel anything like that, but he had to wonder. He hoped that maybe he'd get to feel it, it sounded like a good thing, a fun thing even.
He switched his mind back to kissing and replayed every television scene he'd watched. Two pale, pink lips met. But no, he had to watch closer. One's top lip grabbed the other's bottom lip while the other's top lip grabbed one's bottom lip. He'd guessed that was the basics, though he had no idea how the tongue was involved and he was still confused as he replayed the images from the television shows in his mind.
He had a sudden urge to try to kiss someone then... anyone. He just had to try it, to see what the big deal was, to see why everyone did it so much. Without thinking, he found himself in Dean's hotel room, Dean asleep on top of the blankets even though it was colder inside the room than it was out.
Castiel stayed light on his feet and he walked toward Dean's bed, noticing that Dean's lips were parted open in the most perfect way. Not one thought of what he was doing or how wrong it was crossed his mind. He leaned down, bending his knees in the slightest way while gently caressing Dean's face with his hands. His fingers brushed Dean's thin facial hair and butterflies went up Castiel's spine. He had to kiss him.
It happened all too fast as he leaned his head down further, further, further, hearing his heart in his chest, the blood rushing to his brain, down the veins in his head, to his lips. After their first pulse, the butterflies going crazy as they started swarming in his abdomen, he softly touched his lips to Dean's, grabbing his bottom lip softly. He didn't expect anything to happen, though as more butterflies began to appear in his lower back, he felt Dean's lip latch onto his top lip. A hum of surprise entered out of his throat but he didn't pull away.
The butterflies were all the way down to his knees and up the rest of his body when he turned his head to the side and Dean turned his to the opposite. He moved his lips to Dean's top lip and Dean moved his lips to Castiel's bottom. Seconds later, they switched again, Castiel feeling the need to be more aggressive as he left the lightest bite on Dean's bottom lip. That was his mistake.
He didn't even have to open his eyes to feel Dean's stare on him. He disappeared as fast as he could, though he only took himself to the outside of the hotel room. Bending down to where one of the blinds in the hotel room were broken, he scanned Dean, who was turning on his side on the bed. Was he getting up?
Along with the remenance of the butterflies, fear pulsed through is veins. What had he done? How could he have been so stupid? Of all people to try out kissing on... he chose Dean? Why in the hell would he do that?
He'd lost focus for a second but quickly turned it back to Dean, who was still turned on his side on the bed. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. Dean would probably think it was all a dream, a very weird dream.
Feeling the urge to curl up somewhere warm, he spent the rest of the night in one of the empty hotel rooms, wrapped up in the blankets with the heat turned on. He wanted to cry but smile at the same time. He was still left worried and confused, just as he had been when he started thinking about kissing.
That was when he realized he was feeling. He was feeling worried, confused, guilty, whatever the butterflies were. He was feeling... how weird.
For another hour, he thought, dazed and confused of the happenings of the night. But he eventually just curled up into the blankets to where the completely covered his head and let his mind go blank, because that was what he felt like doing.