Primates
The lock on his front door has several fresh gouges from his misbehaving keys. Cas doesn't even remember the ride home. He just knows that when he left Dean's house—he was furious. Cas is furious . . . with Dean and with himself. Dean should be talking with him about this. Dean is the one who initiated things; he initiated them twice now and he was sober for the last one; and seemingly sane. He should have talked about it with him! Cas should have made him come out and talk about it.
What exactly it was . . . is, Cas has not an utter clue; but it's something, and he needs to figure it out.
His entryway is a blur and his kitchen is nothing but streaks of terracotta, orange. Cas isn't wasting a moment on his usual, evening routine. The mail is not getting sorted and the basil and fresh rosemary plants on his kitchen window sill will have to wait for water. Within a breath of being inside, Cas is already in his office, arms full of every biology, psychology, and relative biography book he owns. He throws in some Shakespeare and the bible for good measure. His computer flashes with work emails and concerned notes from his boss. He never calls out sick but these past few days were a necessary exception. He doesn't want to bother with explaining now, there are more important things than work.
He is going to find out what is happening to him and what is happening to Dean; because something is happening. That kiss . . . it was something to Cas. He felt it and if he didn't know any better, and sadly, he doesn't—he thinks Dean felt it too. Dean kissed him after all. As far as Cas can tell about the American, social norms, people don't just kiss people in completely lucid states; not unless there is a desire beneath the act. Cas felt that desire when he participated, of that, he is certain. He needs to be sure of the possibilities for Dean.
This isn't going to be like the pointless research he has done in the past. The variations of English and the subtleties of social conversation were a lost cause. There is no calculable way to come about such things. The human mouth is an unpredictable monster and Cas can't even trust his own. Attraction, however, now that is biological. We are all animals, after all and we all are drawn to something; whether it is through pheromones or psychological similarities—Cas can break it down to facts.
He begins with an anthropology text. Cas looks at certain primates and their mating dynamics. The chapter leads him to species that involve themselves in social intercourse, "sex for fun", so to speak. Cas is intrigued, Dean apparently lives by this chapter. He knows there is a possibility that Cas is just part of a physical need to Dean, it wouldn't be logical to ignore the research.
"The bonobos often use group sex as an award system upon finding food; gender plays no part in these experiences. Male bonobos will engage in penis/anal penetration with other males; and females will insert their tongues and other body parts—even foreign objects into the vaginal cavities of other females of the species."
Castiel nods to himself as he reads the science out loud. He thinks back to his anthropology class and how his professor stressed that homophobia was strictly a human perception. Cas has attempted to explain this fact to Dean and Sam in the past but the knowledge never seemed to sway their concern. Other males paying too much attention to them—specifically if physical contact ever occurred, made the Winchesters very uncomfortable, Dean especially. Dean frequently used being gay as an insult; Castiel had lectured him on how the negative connotation was more insulting than the accusation itself. Dean did not seem to care.
That seems to be changing now, though. Dean is sober, or was at the point of the kiss—Castiel could have, very well been a type of reward for Dean, something to round out his new-found clarity. Dean is not, however, a bonobo. The aftermath of the kiss, in any case, deterred Castiel from that theory; he would not be Dean's first choice when it came to rewarding good behavior. He probably wouldn't even be his last.
He slides the anthropology book aside and moves onto human biology. Pheromones were always a wonder to Castiel. He knows that certain scents can have direct effects on emotion and memory but the actual chemical makeup of a person, being able to exude a smell that only certain other persons were drawn to—fascinating! Perhaps he has Dean's desired pheromones. Perhaps that is why Dean came up to him in that bar so long ago. Beyond the stench of beer and college girls' overused perfume, Dean could sense Cas on a physical level. Cas certainly was drawn to Dean in some way; he just never thought it was more than admirable friendship until now.
Cas studies and studies. He moves from the science of the body to the science of the mind and how individuals find matches in other human beings. Common lifestyles and personal income are of heavy focus; as well as equilibrium between a pair's moral choices. Cas feels his heart sink slightly; from where he sits, there is nothing common between him and Dean. He has a steady income, where Dean takes odd jobs and is always changing his mind. Cas prefers order and cleanliness and by the state of Dean's house, before Cas gave it a deep sanitation—Dean does not lose sleep over living in filth. Their moral paths, well, Cas cannot really be sure. He wants to think that he and Dean would make the same choices when it came to the greater-good, but Dean's addiction to alcohol and his ability to lose himself in times of extreme intoxication makes him think that he may have some ugliness deep down. Even though, nothing that he has seen so far is ugly to Cas.
The green, ribbed shirt Dean was wearing pounces vividly on his mind. He had never allowed himself to think too long on Dean's physique, or facial features but he has thought about them. The hue of Dean's eyes when he wears that shirt is intoxicating and Cas knows that whenever Dean puts it on, he can't help but stare at his face for far too long. He attributed it to being an observant man. After all, he always enjoyed color and would often gaze at the beautiful things of the world. Dean just happened to be one of them.
He shakes his head. Trying to stay focused on the task at hand is difficult with such images fogging his brain. The compilation of Shakespearian sonnets and plays catches his eye. Oh, unrequited love, the backbone of the Englishman's fame. What if all of this is one sided? What if Cas has unearthed something he has buried long ago, while Dean just wanted to experiment with something new? He was just trying something in a moment of stress and confusion—a desperate grasp at control. Castiel could be the only one caring this much.
He thinks back to the Bonobos. Could he be content just being something frivolous? A one-time reward? He honestly doesn't believe he could be. There is a chance, after all, that Dean does feel the same way—or could feel the same, in time. Whatever that feeling might be . . . what if he does?
"What if?" Cas breathes the thought out to himself.
The idea is terrifying just as much as it is exciting. What would they do? Would they attempt a relationship? Would there be sex? Cas's only experiences with that sort of physicality were all very awkward and ultimately, disappointing. The females he chose or that chose him, never seemed to appreciate him after the act was completed. He often thought maybe, he was doing something wrong. He studied the variations of intercourse and could not come to a viable conclusion of the resulting disarray of emotion. He eventually resolved, that he had just not found the right match yet.
The bonobos didn't care about the right match, they were always pleased afterwards. Cas feels like he is the opposite of a bonobo—he is a male cat, with a barbs along the shaft of his penis, making intercourse with others, a spastic and chaotic act. Castiel doesn't want to be a cat. He doesn't really want to be a bonobo either. One, however, is better than the other. Maybe, maybe Dean will turn him into a bonobo . . . that is, if Dean is a bonobo too.