I Wish I Couldn't Feel a Damn Thing.

For whatever reason, I've always been so fixated on Dean. Sure, I've had my fair share of relationships and flings and one night stands, but there has always been something at the back of my mind. I've always felt like something was missing, like a part of me wasn't there and nothing would feel okay until I found that something.
That something was, and still is, Dean Winchester.

I glance over at him. His brow is furrowed and his lips slightly puckered, awaiting an answer to such a seemingly unimportant question.
"Uh, why do you ask?" I question.
"I kind of overheard you yelling at Sammy, talking about how you thought he told me that you like me. And quite frankly, I've always wondered why you get so nervous around me," he says, smirking. He stares into my gaze and I feel like I've been punched in the throat.
So what do I tell him?
I'm going to go with the least painful option, and that is to lie my ass off.
"Well, I don't like you, so sorry for killing your ego. Sam seems to think otherwise and that is why I was clearing things up with him downstairs earlier," I say stiffly.
I mimic Dean's smirk and twirl a strand of hair around my finger, awaiting a response.
He chuckles.
"Well son of a bitch, that was almost convincing," he replied. "But I can see right through that little attitude of yours. So, what, you have a crush on me?"
I don't answer.
He slides closer to me, his thigh only a few inches from mine. I look in the opposite direction, trying to get my heartbeat to slow down to a normal pace again. I hear Dean chuckle again, this time more quietly. I glance back at him, my heartbeat quickening once more. Shit.
His eyes lock with mine again and I can't bring myself to look away. His eyes are beautiful. They're intensely green, almost too green. If I could, I'd stare into them forever.
I feel his hand slide onto my thigh and my breath catches in my throat for what seems to be the thousandth time today. He leans in closer to me, gently pressing his mouth against my ear as his other hand finds its way to the small of my back.
His breath comes slow and warm against my skin before he speaks, his voice soft and alluring. "You really don't like me?" he taunts, my throat tightening as his lips brush against my ear.
"U-uh," I stutter out, trying to form a coherent sentence. I can't manage to speak and Dean quickly pulls away and smirks before leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine. The kiss is gentle at first, then his hand moves from my back to the side of my face and his tongue slips into my mouth. I kiss back, my mouth moving with his so effortlessly. He slowly pulls away and his eyes search for mine. My pulse hammers through my veins and it takes everything I have to resist the urge to connect my mouth with his again.
Dean Winchester just kissed me. And not just a kiss, it was a real kiss. What?
Suddenly Dean stands up and I snap out of it. He laughs, walking out the door. He pauses and says, "Yeah, you don't like me. That was real convincing, sweetheart," and the door shuts behind him.
What the fuck just happened?