Status: Complete
Falling for the Teacher Is Never a Good Idea
Chapter 9
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," I said. Or grumbled, as I wouldn't exactly call my confusion a word.
"Are you going to need a dictionary or will we be communicating through caveman-esque grunts?"
"I'm a little confused as to what the hell is going on here to be perfectly honest? I'm your student, you're my teacher, and I'm in your room," I said in a very incoherent way.
"Yes. And do you have any other statements you'd like to make, captain obvious? Such as: 'the earth is round' or 'Ryan Gosling looks good without a shirt on' or maybe even 'jellyfish look fucking weird'?"
I didn't say anything to that, but I nodded because those were all true statements, especially that jellyfish thing.
"Um, Mr. Novak-"
"Call me Castiel."
"I'd prefer not to, because you're my teacher-"
"Student teacher," he corrected.
"Is everyone going to keep pointing that out? Yes, I get it. You're my student teacher not my actual teacher but it's still weird, and I'm trying to do the right thing here but you're not exactly making that easy!"
He squints his eyes at me, and asked, "And what exactly is the right thing?"
"Um, not having feelings for my teacher," I said, feeling unsure of my answer.
"And why is that the right thing? Give me a good answer."
"I uh… because it's… against school policy?"
"No it isn't, I read through the school manual and nowhere does it say anything about a student teacher and a student interacting outside of class," he said raising an eyebrow like he was a genius and I was an idiot.
"Well then…" I couldn't believe that I couldn't think of anything though. Like I actually couldn't come up with a good answer. There was age, but I was eighteen, so what really would the problem be there?
"That leaves only one question," he said shrugging, "do you like me, not as a teacher, but as a person?"
My stomach kind of lurched at that point. I couldn't lie, not when he already knew the truth. I found that I had backed myself up against the wall near the door and he was looking at me from about a foot away. He was a few inches shorter than me but I could still see right into his deep blue eyes.
I tried looking around the room, which was kind of messy, with clothes precariously strewn about on the floor. The only thing that was vacant of a mess was the… bed.
He repeated his question after a few minutes of silence, sounding a bit uncertain, "do you like me?"
"I don't know," I finally answered. It was the truth. I'd never really allowed myself to crush on a guy before, but there I was, and the emotions were all new, so I didn't know what they meant.
I continued, "Like I think so… but I don't have a clue what my feelings mean."
He backed up at this, and went over to the futon, which was kind of messy with scribbling's of drawings, and clothes. I just watched as he cleared it off, and then grabbed a blanket and extra pillow.
"I'm not going to pressure you," he said in response to my baffled look, "because I know what it's like being a teenager in the closet."
'Oh shit he's being sweet and considerate,' I thought to myself, which made me like him even more.
That feeling though, in my stomach, if that wasn't attraction than I didn't know what it was. It was like a mixture of warmth and fear and yearning.
"Uh Castiel? Can I call you Cas?"
He looked up and nodded, he was now standing near me, grabbing something from his suitcase.
"Cas, I think that… I do. I do like you, I mean. I'm just nervous."
"That's okay Dean," he said, trying not to show a smile on his face which made me repress a grin as well, because of how cute he was being.
"I know I may seem like I'm kind of indestructible or whatever, or that I'm kind of unfazed by all of this," Cas said, "but I'm not really. I'm just as anxious by this as you are."
"I doubt that," I mumbled and then turned to look at him, but he was only inches from my face.
I couldn't think.
"Can I just say," I said, and found my heart beating rapidly, "that I've never even kissed a guy before."
Cas didn't say much, he just said, "then I'll show you what you're missing."
At that, his lips were on mine, and I got a little dizzy. I guess it's a natural instinct to want to close your eyes when kissing but I honestly don't think I could've handled my stability with them open, so they clamped themselves shut, and I let my other senses take over.
For one thing he smelled like cinnamon, and oak, which was an odd, but pleasant combination. His breath was on my lips and tasted like he'd just brushed his teeth, which made me wonder what mine tasted like, because I hadn't gotten the chance to wash up after dinner. I just prayed the Altoid I had an hour ago did its work.
I became aware after a few seconds that I had put my hands on his neck, and that his were around my waist, but all I could really think about was the fact that I was kissing Mr. Novak, or should I say Cas.
He was a really good kisser as well. His lips were soft, and a little chapped but I didn't mind, because they were on mine and that was all that really mattered.
I don't remember who pulled away first but I do remember that cheeky smile he gave me, before he said, "good night."
I just stumbled over to the futon he'd set up for me, and I guess I fell asleep or something because that was that. I couldn't really have talked if I'd tried, as I was trying to compute the fact that I'd kissed him.
Why did he make my heart stutter when I thought about him? Why did I feel like I was flying (in a good way, not an airplane way) when he kissed me? What was his effect on me and why was it so effective?
Maybe Charlie would have some insight.
"Are you going to need a dictionary or will we be communicating through caveman-esque grunts?"
"I'm a little confused as to what the hell is going on here to be perfectly honest? I'm your student, you're my teacher, and I'm in your room," I said in a very incoherent way.
"Yes. And do you have any other statements you'd like to make, captain obvious? Such as: 'the earth is round' or 'Ryan Gosling looks good without a shirt on' or maybe even 'jellyfish look fucking weird'?"
I didn't say anything to that, but I nodded because those were all true statements, especially that jellyfish thing.
"Um, Mr. Novak-"
"Call me Castiel."
"I'd prefer not to, because you're my teacher-"
"Student teacher," he corrected.
"Is everyone going to keep pointing that out? Yes, I get it. You're my student teacher not my actual teacher but it's still weird, and I'm trying to do the right thing here but you're not exactly making that easy!"
He squints his eyes at me, and asked, "And what exactly is the right thing?"
"Um, not having feelings for my teacher," I said, feeling unsure of my answer.
"And why is that the right thing? Give me a good answer."
"I uh… because it's… against school policy?"
"No it isn't, I read through the school manual and nowhere does it say anything about a student teacher and a student interacting outside of class," he said raising an eyebrow like he was a genius and I was an idiot.
"Well then…" I couldn't believe that I couldn't think of anything though. Like I actually couldn't come up with a good answer. There was age, but I was eighteen, so what really would the problem be there?
"That leaves only one question," he said shrugging, "do you like me, not as a teacher, but as a person?"
My stomach kind of lurched at that point. I couldn't lie, not when he already knew the truth. I found that I had backed myself up against the wall near the door and he was looking at me from about a foot away. He was a few inches shorter than me but I could still see right into his deep blue eyes.
I tried looking around the room, which was kind of messy, with clothes precariously strewn about on the floor. The only thing that was vacant of a mess was the… bed.
He repeated his question after a few minutes of silence, sounding a bit uncertain, "do you like me?"
"I don't know," I finally answered. It was the truth. I'd never really allowed myself to crush on a guy before, but there I was, and the emotions were all new, so I didn't know what they meant.
I continued, "Like I think so… but I don't have a clue what my feelings mean."
He backed up at this, and went over to the futon, which was kind of messy with scribbling's of drawings, and clothes. I just watched as he cleared it off, and then grabbed a blanket and extra pillow.
"I'm not going to pressure you," he said in response to my baffled look, "because I know what it's like being a teenager in the closet."
'Oh shit he's being sweet and considerate,' I thought to myself, which made me like him even more.
That feeling though, in my stomach, if that wasn't attraction than I didn't know what it was. It was like a mixture of warmth and fear and yearning.
"Uh Castiel? Can I call you Cas?"
He looked up and nodded, he was now standing near me, grabbing something from his suitcase.
"Cas, I think that… I do. I do like you, I mean. I'm just nervous."
"That's okay Dean," he said, trying not to show a smile on his face which made me repress a grin as well, because of how cute he was being.
"I know I may seem like I'm kind of indestructible or whatever, or that I'm kind of unfazed by all of this," Cas said, "but I'm not really. I'm just as anxious by this as you are."
"I doubt that," I mumbled and then turned to look at him, but he was only inches from my face.
I couldn't think.
"Can I just say," I said, and found my heart beating rapidly, "that I've never even kissed a guy before."
Cas didn't say much, he just said, "then I'll show you what you're missing."
At that, his lips were on mine, and I got a little dizzy. I guess it's a natural instinct to want to close your eyes when kissing but I honestly don't think I could've handled my stability with them open, so they clamped themselves shut, and I let my other senses take over.
For one thing he smelled like cinnamon, and oak, which was an odd, but pleasant combination. His breath was on my lips and tasted like he'd just brushed his teeth, which made me wonder what mine tasted like, because I hadn't gotten the chance to wash up after dinner. I just prayed the Altoid I had an hour ago did its work.
I became aware after a few seconds that I had put my hands on his neck, and that his were around my waist, but all I could really think about was the fact that I was kissing Mr. Novak, or should I say Cas.
He was a really good kisser as well. His lips were soft, and a little chapped but I didn't mind, because they were on mine and that was all that really mattered.
I don't remember who pulled away first but I do remember that cheeky smile he gave me, before he said, "good night."
I just stumbled over to the futon he'd set up for me, and I guess I fell asleep or something because that was that. I couldn't really have talked if I'd tried, as I was trying to compute the fact that I'd kissed him.
Why did he make my heart stutter when I thought about him? Why did I feel like I was flying (in a good way, not an airplane way) when he kissed me? What was his effect on me and why was it so effective?
Maybe Charlie would have some insight.