Title: The Art of Kissing
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam, OFC
Pairing: Dean/OFC
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None

Summary: Kisses that didn't lead to sex were a rarity in Dean's experience and it took him a while to figure them out and make them a natural part of his life.

Few things in life could surprise Dean and the fact that a very simple kiss could be one of them was almost unthinkable. It wasn't a long kiss, it wasn't deep or passionate and it probably wasn't even meaningful to her but it certainly gave him pause.

They were sitting in a diner just off the interstate, their destination a small town in Oklahoma that was still at least two hundred miles away. That meant that they still had a good few hours journey ahead of them and Dean said he simply couldn't go another yard without eating something. He firmly believed in three square meals a day, even if those meals did consist invariably of junk food, and so he had insisted that they pull over at the first available opportunity.

Sam had eaten only a sandwich much to Dean's disgust when there was a variety of burgers and the like on offer, and was now sitting opposite him, nose buried in his laptop. He'd easily hacked into a local wireless connection and was checking out the latest on the spree of murders that they were heading out to investigate. The local authorities seemed to believe that the bizarre nature of the murders suggested that they were some kind of weird ritual cult deaths but Sam had seen the autopsy reports and knew that no human could have done that to those people.

Dean was just starting to finish up the last of his fries when Izzy slid back into the seat next to him, returning from the bathroom.

"Anything new?" she asked, addressing Sam.

He glanced up momentarily to check that it was him she was talking to before his eyes returned to the screen, scanning pages with a frown as he spoke.

"No. No new attacks at least. The coroner's report on the latest victim is done though and it seems like the same thing; signs of a vicious attack and drained almost completely of blood."

"And we're sure this is not a vampire," Dean said around a mouthful of fries.

Sam grimaced slightly at Dean's table manners and then shook his head, "Vampires don't eat flesh and these people were partially devoured so no, I don't think so."

Dean was about to ask if Sam had any idea which of the many types of flesh eating and blood drinking creatures out there could be the culprit when he was distracted by Izzy careless reaching across and hijacking one of his fries.

"Hey!" he complained, instantly indignant, giving her a stern look, "Would you cut that out? Why do chicks have to do that, huh? They could order fries of their own but they don't and then go and eat yours instead. I mean seriously what is that all about?"

She had clearly touched upon a bit of a pet hate but she just shrugged unrepentantly.

"The vagaries of the female psyche, huh? What you gonna do?"

"Besides," Sam added as he stood, closing his laptop and picking it off of the table, "That's sexist, Dean. It's not only chicks that do it."

He grinned broadly, swiping a small handful of fries from Dean's plate as he walked past, heading for the door.

"I hate you both," Dean muttered sullenly, hurriedly finishing the rest of them off before any more were taken, "Next time I'm eating in the car."

Izzy ran a soothing hand up his thigh, doing a fine job at distracting him from his sulk.

"I know we're very mean," she agreed placating him with her voice and fingers, "Tell you what, I'll buy you dinner when we get to the motel okay and you can pig out to your heart's content. I won't touch a single greasy mouthful."

"Cheeseburger?" he asked, playing on his sulk now like a kid being appeased with a promise of a treat if he did his chores.

She smiled, seeing his game.

"With all the trimmings," she promised.

"My girl's so smart," he approved with a grin.

She laughed a little.

"You go pay," she said, "I'll meet you at the car."

And she leant across and kissed him, the momentary press of lips on lips, short, sweet and for her totally natural. It wasn't for him though. He knew for certain that she had never actually had kissed him like that before – it was simple and easy, a public display of affection between her and her boyfriend. And he supposed he was just that although there'd never been an official announcement of it as such. They'd got it together and they were still together a month or so later hence she seemed to be his girlfriend. It was all pretty simple really.

Except it wasn't.

He thought about it a lot as he went up to the counter to pay, distractedly handing over the money and assuming he'd been given the right change as he certainly didn't bother to count it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had one of those kisses. Not real ones that weren't brought on by a demon induced hallucination at least.

That was one of the big differences between girlfriends and flings he'd come to realise. With flings kisses were always building up to something. You didn't just meet a girl in a bar, kiss her and leave it as that. Kisses in his experience almost invariably led to sex. Kissing was always foreplay. With a girlfriend however he could just kiss her and it didn't have to go anywhere. He could use a kiss to say hello, goodbye, good night or good morning and it didn't need to always lead to the bedroom. It was unknown territory to him and something he certainly hadn't gotten used to yet. He simply never did that to her, never just kissed her for no reason. He kissed her when he wanted her and when he needed her. He kissed her to tell her that pretty soon he was going to have her naked and writhing underneath him. He kissed her to tell her that she was beautiful, to tell her that he was there for her and to tell her that he loved her. Yet he never kissed her for the sake of it. Never just to say he was glad to be with her. He never kissed her like a guy should kiss his girlfriend, a simple gesture to say 'I like being with you'.

He guessed it was going to take him a while get used to the fact that a kiss could be just a kiss. Even longer to get used to having a long term girlfriend rather than a short term fling but he knew he wanted to do right by her. He wanted to do all the things he should be doing, not leave her feeling like their relationship was something quick and passionate yet destined to burn out. He had every intention of being in this for the long haul and he knew he needed to show her that much better than he currently did.

She'd only ever mentioned it in passing but he did know she'd had boyfriends before. She'd been to high school and college and she was a hot girl so he couldn't imagine that she had been without attention for too much of her teenage years. Besides, the first time he'd pulled her to him, kissed her and proceeded to strip her clothes away she had definitely known what she was doing. It seemed like she knew what she was doing now with this whole relationship thing too. He however was quite the novice in many ways and he was worried that he was going to screw things up, not really liking the fact that he had to take her lead. Sam always complained that he had serious control issues at times but it wasn't quite that in this case. It was more the idea that he wanted to find his own way, not have to follow someone else's.

He definitely didn't like the thought of her comparing him to old boyfriends. Not so much in bedroom terms – he had enough confidence to know that she had no problem with him there – but in the more day to day things that made a relationship a relationship. He didn't want her to get the wrong impression about how he felt about her simply because he didn't really know how to work a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. He didn't want her to be thinking things like that this wasn't what her old guy used to do or that he would have done something better in the circumstances. He didn't want to disappoint her expectations of what a boyfriend was supposed to be like. And he knew she must have them. She'd lived a fairly normal existence for the first twenty five years of her life and she was used to doing things that other people her age did. He knew she'd given up a lot in a way to travel with them, given up any pretence at normality not mention her safety to do what she saw as the right thing but it seemed that she refused to give up on having someone in her life. Being alone wasn't a compromise she was prepared to make. He kind of admired her for that.

In a way Dean despised himself for thinking in the same angsty, touch feely, chick flick way he often derived Sam for but he had come to realise that there was perhaps some truth to it under all the bullshit. He was falling in love with this girl and he didn't want to lose her through stupid mistakes.

Heading out of the diner door he crossed over to the parked car, seeing Sam and Izzy chatting about something. Noticing his arrival Sam got into the passenger side, preparing to leave and she was just about to open her own door and settle in behind the driver's seat when Dean caught up with her.

"Hey," he said, a little awkwardly, something she immediately picked up on.

"Everything okay?" she asked, obviously slightly at a loss as to what could have possibly happened whilst he'd been paying to cause his suddenly strange mood.

He didn't bother to answer, knowing as usual that his actions could definitely speak louder and truer than words. He placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled her to him, his lips softly meeting hers. Remembering to be tender he moved his mouth gently and slow, tugging slightly at her bottom lip when he pulled away a short moment later.

Soft, sweet, trying to tell her 'I'm glad you're here'.

When he opened his eyes she was looking at him a little curiously.

"What?" he asked, faintly uncomfortable. Had he done something wrong? Was it a bit much? Was it the wrong time? Damn did he hate feeling like the rookie.

To his relief her face broke into a smile

"Nothing," she reassured, kissing his cheek quickly, warm lips brushing his stubble before she opened the door and disappeared into the car.

The reassuring kiss on the cheek. Dean had to remember that one too.

As they continued down the interstate a rather pleased grin gradually plastered itself on his face, causing Sam to ask him what the hell he was smiling about and then consequently get frustrated when Dean just kept on grinning and refused to answer.

When he caught her reflection in the rear view mirror he could see Izzy was smiling too, turning to a slight blush when he saw him looking at her, knowing that he was thinking about the same thing she was. She adverted her gaze slightly, watching the world roll by out the window but unable to complete rid herself of the smile on her face.

Kissing was an art, Dean had known that all along. It seemed however that despite all his confidence he was still learning some of its subtleties. And it felt good.