First Kiss
Title: What in the Hell Just Happened?
Author: primipassi
Rating: R (mainly for language)
Genre and/or pairing: Dean/Castiel, Fluffy, Humor, Awkward Moments Galore
Spoilers: Not really related to any plots in the show, but is not AU
Warnings: Language - a lot of it.
Word Count: 1178
Summary: Dean hated awkward moments almost as much as chick flick ones. There fore, he had a particularly strong dislike for 'moments' with Cas. They were the worst.
“Dean!” a loud shout came from behind the demon that had Dean pinned like a rag doll against the grimy shed wall. The demon’s huge, bulking head blocked Dean’s sight of who had called his name, but he knew who it was.
He’d know that voice anywhere - it was Cas. Dean relaxed visibly as a carved blade shot through the demons back, and its soulless black eyes grew wider. The guys mouth shot open, and an ashy cloud of black and purple evil poured out of the poor vessel, making its way back to where it rightly belonged - the depths of hell.
All that was left was the lifeless body of the man the demon had been possessing for most of a month.
Dean collapsed to the floor, sliding into a sitting position as he coughed, struggling to refill his lungs with precious air. His vision blurred, and the fuzzy trench-coated form of Castiel bent down in front of him. Dean took a heaving breath as his vision came into focus, and he flinched back into the wall when he realized Castiel’s face was right in front of his, cocked to the side in concern and contemplation. Dean glanced down at Castiel’s lips, which were parted slightly,
“Cas,” he began quietly, eyes shifting nervously to the side, “ Thanks for saving me, but…. Um, Personal space…” Castiel pursed his lips slightly, eyes shifting down, before standing up, trench coat brushing against Dean’s knee. Oh great, now he was only an inch away from the angel’s god damn crotch. Castiel seriously needed to learn that having any part of ones body in someone else’s area is a serious violation of the personal space rule.
Dean sighed, and turned his gaze up to Castiel, who was looking down at him. Dean’s throat go dry as he realized all at once how he must look right now - looking up at the blue eyed angel through long eyelashes, lips opened in surprise with merely inches between the angel’s crotch and his mouth.
Dean snapped his mouth shut, and cleared his throat, before looking past Castiel at something in the distance,
“Uhh…can you give me a hand?” Dean asked, voice cracking in a combination of newly filled lungs and confusion. He suddenly feel like he was back in high school when he’d first gotten laid - hot, nervous, and confused. Actually, he was mostly confused because he was hot and nervous, which was really disconcerting for more than one reason.
He blamed it on the lack of free time to pick up girls lately. He hadn’t had sex for months. He was probably just going through some kind of withdrawal,
“Yah, just withdrawal,” Dean said under his breath with a nervous chuckle, and a hand came into his line of sight,
“What about withdrawal?” Castiel’s rumbling voice questioned, and Dean gulped, hoping to whatever god or leprechauns or Easter bunnies, or fucking unicorns, if nothing else, that Castiel had not just been reading his mind. He glanced up to Castiel, whose wide, blue eyes were filled with genuine interest, and Dean let out a relieved breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
“Nothing,“ he mumbled, giving Castiel a weak smile. His gaze fell back down to Castiel’s hand, before he took it, and Castiel pulled him up as Dean muttered a low ‘thank you’ as he went.
Dean grunted, trying to get his footing, before his sight suddenly began to spin at high speeds, and he lurched forward, losing himself to the world for a moment, until he felt the thump of his body landing on something.
Dean later would try to convince himself that his brain had just been really foggy - he’d had no idea what he was doing when he did what he did next. Of course, it was just him trying to convince himself. Again.
He felt something warm brushing slightly against his lips, and he had to hold back the strange urge he had to move closer to the little bursts of warm air this thing gave off.
His eyes opened lazily, and his sight came slowly into focus.
He saw blue. A beautiful blue color. His lips twitched up slightly in a lazy, eye lidded grin. It made him yearn even more to move closer to that soothing warmth that was brushing against his lips, but as his vision returned to normal, he suddenly realized whose lips those were brushing against his own.
Castiel’s.
Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, and he shoved himself back with a sudden burst of energy he hadn‘t even possessed moment earlier. His mouth hung open in shock, and his green eyes flew to Castiel’s, who looked even more shell-shocked than he did. Dean struggled to find words, his mouth trying to form silent syllables to no avail. He was momentarily stuck in a stupor.
Dean finally stood, and at a loss, turned his back to the angel, his hand coming up to touch his lips as though they were a detached part of his body, and not actually his own flesh.
He just kissed Castiel.
An angel of the fucking Lord.
What the fuck.
Why the hell wasn’t he flipping his shit?
In fact, why the hell did he not hate it?
Holy…
Dean turned around, not exactly sure what he was going to say to Castiel, but Castiel had already made his escape on silent wings, and Dean’s hands dropped to his sides in annoyance,
“Shit, Cas, you’re not supposed to just high wing it outta town after something like that,” he sighed in annoyance, and pulled his hand down his face as he looked around the room.
Suddenly, the doors of the shed burst open, causing Dean to almost lose his balance for the third time that day.
He looked over to the door, thoroughly pissed at this point. Someone somehwere sure as hell had it out for him today, and it sucked a lot.
If the person who’d just slammed open the doors had been anyone but Sam, they would have suffered Dean’s unrestrained wrath - namely a firm punch in the gut.
Luckily, no one would have to suffer such a fate today as Dean made out Sam’s confused face just past a rusting bike. His brother’s eyebrows gathered in frustration after he saw the body of the man they’d been hunting for quite a while. Well, the demon that had been inside of him, anyhow.
Dean, suddenly remembering that he should probably say something, spoke up,
“Geez, Sam, remind me never to let you inside a china shop,” he mused, making his way out into the open, and Sam’s eyes shot up to him, relief flashing through them, before his lips pressed together sternly,
“Dean, what the Hell just happened?” he asked, still standing the same place.
Dean’s lips pulled back a little, gaze moving to the left and slowly drifting back to Sam - one of his signature faces - as he spoke,
“Ya know, I was just asking myself the same thing,”
Author: primipassi
Rating: R (mainly for language)
Genre and/or pairing: Dean/Castiel, Fluffy, Humor, Awkward Moments Galore
Spoilers: Not really related to any plots in the show, but is not AU
Warnings: Language - a lot of it.
Word Count: 1178
Summary: Dean hated awkward moments almost as much as chick flick ones. There fore, he had a particularly strong dislike for 'moments' with Cas. They were the worst.
“Dean!” a loud shout came from behind the demon that had Dean pinned like a rag doll against the grimy shed wall. The demon’s huge, bulking head blocked Dean’s sight of who had called his name, but he knew who it was.
He’d know that voice anywhere - it was Cas. Dean relaxed visibly as a carved blade shot through the demons back, and its soulless black eyes grew wider. The guys mouth shot open, and an ashy cloud of black and purple evil poured out of the poor vessel, making its way back to where it rightly belonged - the depths of hell.
All that was left was the lifeless body of the man the demon had been possessing for most of a month.
Dean collapsed to the floor, sliding into a sitting position as he coughed, struggling to refill his lungs with precious air. His vision blurred, and the fuzzy trench-coated form of Castiel bent down in front of him. Dean took a heaving breath as his vision came into focus, and he flinched back into the wall when he realized Castiel’s face was right in front of his, cocked to the side in concern and contemplation. Dean glanced down at Castiel’s lips, which were parted slightly,
“Cas,” he began quietly, eyes shifting nervously to the side, “ Thanks for saving me, but…. Um, Personal space…” Castiel pursed his lips slightly, eyes shifting down, before standing up, trench coat brushing against Dean’s knee. Oh great, now he was only an inch away from the angel’s god damn crotch. Castiel seriously needed to learn that having any part of ones body in someone else’s area is a serious violation of the personal space rule.
Dean sighed, and turned his gaze up to Castiel, who was looking down at him. Dean’s throat go dry as he realized all at once how he must look right now - looking up at the blue eyed angel through long eyelashes, lips opened in surprise with merely inches between the angel’s crotch and his mouth.
Dean snapped his mouth shut, and cleared his throat, before looking past Castiel at something in the distance,
“Uhh…can you give me a hand?” Dean asked, voice cracking in a combination of newly filled lungs and confusion. He suddenly feel like he was back in high school when he’d first gotten laid - hot, nervous, and confused. Actually, he was mostly confused because he was hot and nervous, which was really disconcerting for more than one reason.
He blamed it on the lack of free time to pick up girls lately. He hadn’t had sex for months. He was probably just going through some kind of withdrawal,
“Yah, just withdrawal,” Dean said under his breath with a nervous chuckle, and a hand came into his line of sight,
“What about withdrawal?” Castiel’s rumbling voice questioned, and Dean gulped, hoping to whatever god or leprechauns or Easter bunnies, or fucking unicorns, if nothing else, that Castiel had not just been reading his mind. He glanced up to Castiel, whose wide, blue eyes were filled with genuine interest, and Dean let out a relieved breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
“Nothing,“ he mumbled, giving Castiel a weak smile. His gaze fell back down to Castiel’s hand, before he took it, and Castiel pulled him up as Dean muttered a low ‘thank you’ as he went.
Dean grunted, trying to get his footing, before his sight suddenly began to spin at high speeds, and he lurched forward, losing himself to the world for a moment, until he felt the thump of his body landing on something.
Dean later would try to convince himself that his brain had just been really foggy - he’d had no idea what he was doing when he did what he did next. Of course, it was just him trying to convince himself. Again.
He felt something warm brushing slightly against his lips, and he had to hold back the strange urge he had to move closer to the little bursts of warm air this thing gave off.
His eyes opened lazily, and his sight came slowly into focus.
He saw blue. A beautiful blue color. His lips twitched up slightly in a lazy, eye lidded grin. It made him yearn even more to move closer to that soothing warmth that was brushing against his lips, but as his vision returned to normal, he suddenly realized whose lips those were brushing against his own.
Castiel’s.
Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, and he shoved himself back with a sudden burst of energy he hadn‘t even possessed moment earlier. His mouth hung open in shock, and his green eyes flew to Castiel’s, who looked even more shell-shocked than he did. Dean struggled to find words, his mouth trying to form silent syllables to no avail. He was momentarily stuck in a stupor.
Dean finally stood, and at a loss, turned his back to the angel, his hand coming up to touch his lips as though they were a detached part of his body, and not actually his own flesh.
He just kissed Castiel.
An angel of the fucking Lord.
What the fuck.
Why the hell wasn’t he flipping his shit?
In fact, why the hell did he not hate it?
Holy…
Dean turned around, not exactly sure what he was going to say to Castiel, but Castiel had already made his escape on silent wings, and Dean’s hands dropped to his sides in annoyance,
“Shit, Cas, you’re not supposed to just high wing it outta town after something like that,” he sighed in annoyance, and pulled his hand down his face as he looked around the room.
Suddenly, the doors of the shed burst open, causing Dean to almost lose his balance for the third time that day.
He looked over to the door, thoroughly pissed at this point. Someone somehwere sure as hell had it out for him today, and it sucked a lot.
If the person who’d just slammed open the doors had been anyone but Sam, they would have suffered Dean’s unrestrained wrath - namely a firm punch in the gut.
Luckily, no one would have to suffer such a fate today as Dean made out Sam’s confused face just past a rusting bike. His brother’s eyebrows gathered in frustration after he saw the body of the man they’d been hunting for quite a while. Well, the demon that had been inside of him, anyhow.
Dean, suddenly remembering that he should probably say something, spoke up,
“Geez, Sam, remind me never to let you inside a china shop,” he mused, making his way out into the open, and Sam’s eyes shot up to him, relief flashing through them, before his lips pressed together sternly,
“Dean, what the Hell just happened?” he asked, still standing the same place.
Dean’s lips pulled back a little, gaze moving to the left and slowly drifting back to Sam - one of his signature faces - as he spoke,
“Ya know, I was just asking myself the same thing,”