I owed a gift to @bold-sartorial-statement for months, but this literally took months to write, I don’t really know why. I spent hours daydreaming about it and not writing a word, but here it is, finally. Therese, I hope you enjoy it, especially a certain bit - you’ll know when you read it!
As always, a huge thank you to Rie ( @procasdeanating ) who beta-ed and helped when I was stuck.
Destiel - first kiss - newly human Castiel - dissociating Castiel
Cas remembers. Well, he kind of remembers something, a different way of experiencing reality that lies just beyond his reach, now that he is completely human. He knows his sensations were different; he knows, intellectually, how he could feel Dean as a whole multitude of data he didn’t have to gather to just know. What precise temperature Dean’s body had. When his bladder was full enough to make him need to relieve himself. How tense the muscles in his back were. How his blood pressure varied through the day. Once, Dean has woken up with a crick in his neck; he came out of his room rubbing a hand to his nape and shoulder, and Cas knew the exact muscle fiber that was strained in his trapezius.
When he was still an angel, Cas could sense all these things in Dean, but feeling them himself was an abstract concept. He could tune them out, of course, let them drown into the white noise of all the other information that he was getting at once from other people and his environment. But he always reacted more strongly to Dean than to anything or anyone else.
He remembers clearly the first time he physically reacted to one of these pieces of data. He was sitting in a nondescript motel room with Sam, Dean showering in the bathroom next door. Cas hadn’t been paying attention to what he was perceiving, but suddenly he felt the hormonal levels shift drastically inside Dean’s body. Dopamine skyrocketed first, followed by endorphins and oxytocin.
The Hits vs Comments almost matching struck me as funny for some reason. They’re a zero off from matching. it’s always funny when numbers line up or almost line up right when you look at them, like clock’s being exactly on the hour. Like, how often does that happen? (X)