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“Will you just spin the goddamn bottle already?” Lucifer asks, a big and irritated frown increasing in the middle of his forehead.
Dean shoots him a glare. Is it his fault that Lucifer’s brother, Castiel Novak, is right there in front of him and they could kiss anytime now? Okay, Castiel is a guy – a gay guy –, but Dean can’t give a crap. At least not when he has the fucking bluest eyes ever looking straight at his hand.
The Novak teen is scared, it’s easy to see. His eyes are way to wildly opened and a slight tremble is taking over him. Perhaps he has never played the game or, even better, perhaps he’s never been kissed. The idea of having Castiel’s first kiss makes something in Dean’s stomach feel tighter with anticipation.
Without any further ado – and moved by that thought –, Dean spins the bottle and waits until it stops. Don’t get him wrong; he’s not gay and he doesn’t want to date Castiel, but he does have a man crush on him. Who told Castiel to have that freaking that freaking sex hair all the goddamn time? Should be a crime, that’s what it should be.
Maybe Dean should try to stop thinking about it, since Lucifer won’t stop staring at him. Does he know that Dean only came to this party so he could take advantage on Castiel? It’s not exactly something to be proud of, you know?
Three rounds and neither have Dean nor Castiel kissed anybody. Every time the bottle didn’t stop pointing at him, the blue-eyed let out a relieved sigh. Imagine his surprise when the freaking thing stops pointing at both Castiel and Dean in the fourth round.
Castiel looks up at Dean slowly, his jaw clenched and his eyes frightened. It’s amazing how Dean can read every single one of his thoughts and feelings only by holding his gaze.
Around them, the other teens start screaming and clapping. Dean Winchester, the manliest man in school, is about to kiss Castiel Novak, the creepy, nerdy gay guy. Well, fuck them. Dean’s a little busy staring at Castiel’s stubbornly dry lips to give a damn.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” everybody keeps shouting at them. Castiel looks so fucking scared that Dean will hit him – like at least half of the others would do –, that the Winchester hesitates.
Obviously, the hesitation doesn’t last and Dean crawls to the center of the circle. Castiel swallows before following him, the tremble of his body a little easier to notice. They stand up at the same time and approach slowly, Dean holding his waist and cupping his cheek as Castiel locks his fingers on Dean’s jacket.
None of them makes the first move, and they’re probably not even aware of the other people around them. “What now?” Castiel whispers after a few moments of them just breathing against each other.
“Now we kiss,” Dean whispers back and leans in to seal their lips.
If people are rooting, screaming, shouting, or anything like that, Dean doesn’t know. You see, he’s a little busy with something else. Not a big deal, he’s just kissing the guy he’s had a crush on for what? A year? More? Yeah, maybe that’s a good reason.
They start slowly, getting to know each other. Of course it should only be a press of lips, nothing else, but, well, things get hotter unexpectedly. Castiel’s fingers get tighter where they’re holding Dean, and the blue-eyed pulls him closer. Obviously Dean goes at will, and takes the chance to lick at Castiel’s bottom lip, invading his mouth with his tongue, in search of the boy’s taste.
It’s surprising to find out that Castiel is very demanding while kissing, sucking strongly at Dean’s tongue, as if his life depended on it. And it’s so fucking hot. Both of the boys hesitate on parting, but somewhere on the back of their minds, they remember they are in public – unfortunately. Dean would very much like to finish that somewhere else.
Eyes are staring at them, wildly opened and not wanting to believe what they have just seen. Well, eyes that aren’t Lucifer’s, since Castiel’s brother seems like he’s imagining several ways of killing the Winchester teen. Dean sits back where he was before and Castiel does the same. That’s when the Winchester teen realizes that he’s gay for him. Okay, maybe he knew that before, but that’s kinda when he decides to admit it.
The game carries on, but Dean only has eyes for the dark-haired boy in front of him, who’s constantly touching his lips with the tips of his fingers, as if still feeling Dean’s against them.
Fuck, Dean is so screwed.