Chapter Text
- NOW, Christmas Night -
Dean’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel in what seemed to Cas as impatience or nerves. Cas glanced out the window. They hadn't said much since Lucy finally fell asleep. Her gentle snores now a soundtrack for the drive.
The familiar stretch of road leading back to the bunker passed by. Then, Dean veered off route, taking an unexpected turn.
Cas furrowed his brow, “Dean, where are we going?”
Dean shrugged without meeting his eyes, “Just a little detour.”
Cas’s confusion deepened when the road turned into what was clearly a long driveway, packed with icicled trees. His mouth opened to question further when the headlights illuminated a house. The house.
Cas’s breath caught as he stared, his memory folding in on itself.
"Is this...?" Cas couldn't seem to catch up.
He'd walked this house a thousand times in dreams. Now, the structure stood there awake. A light beckoned from the porch.
Dean pulled the Impala to a stop. When Cas dragged his eyes back to Dean, he held a nervous smirk and a small key ring. Cas's mouth hovered open. Dumbly, he looked between Dean's impossible green eyes and this simple set of keys.
“Well?" Dean whispered, he tossed the keys to Cas who caught them instinctually. He stared down at the cold metal that just fell unceremoniously into his palm. Dean cleared his throat, looking back to Lucy briefly before finding Cas again, "You gonna go in, or do I gotta carry you in too?”
Cas unbuckled his seatbelt mechanically, his legs carrying him forward. The house in front of him was real, solid, yet very unreal too. He barely registered Dean unbuckling Lucy and setting her on his hip as they walked toward the door together.
Inside, the space was everything he remembered, even down to the wood trimming. It was mostly unfurnished aside from a dining table set and a rocking chair. And, there was a small Christmas tree by the fireplace.
"I figured we should fill in the furniture and stuff together," Dean said, setting Lucy gently on the rocking chair, "Just put enough in to be 'move in ready'."
Cas shook his head slowly, "How did you...?"
Dean walked a few steps his way, "Wasn't all me. Eileen and Jody were a lot of help getting the details and contracting sorted. And uh, Sam ran down to the bunker yesterday to get enough of our stuff for tonight."
His rambling trailed off, but it was still too much to keep up with, "This must've taken-"
"About two years," Dean filled in, “Been building it since we brought her home. Since you said you liked it, really."
Lucy stirred beside them from her awkward seating in the rocking chair. Her eyes fluttered open, then scrunched up.
“Where?” she murmured, her voice scratchy with sleep.
Cas knelt beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “We’re home. Our new home.”
She blinked, her confusion melting into sleepy acceptance. She grabbed Cas's hands to get out of the chair, then stumbled over to Dean's legs and held on.
She was taking it all in, and so was Cas. Then he noticed that the sparsely lit Christmas tree held one ornament, Lucy's first. The sight of it nearly had him in tears.
Dean mumbled, “It's been killing me not to tell you, man. But Christmas was so close, and-” he tilted his head, almost apprehensively, with a question, “You can forgive me for acting like a bit of a dick, right?”
Cas's shoulders dropped and he moved to him without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around Dean with Lucy wedged between them, squirming.
Dean’s hand pressed to Cas’s back as he spoke into his hair, “I want to give you everything. Whatever it is. Just tell me, Cas, and I’m listening. It’s you and me.”
Cas’s throat tightened, and for a long moment, he couldn’t speak. Instead, he leaned his forehead against Dean’s, his eyes shut.
“Dean,” Cas whispered, his voice breaking, “I love you.”
A loud crash interrupted the moment, yanking their attention. By the tree, Lucy stood frozen, her eyes wide, tears already pooling as she stared down at the shards of the broken ornament at her feet.
“Uh-oh,” she whispered, then promptly started crying.
"Oh," Cas looked down at her, but the longer he looked, he couldn’t help it; he laughed. It built slow but evolved into a full-body thing.
Lucy sniffled, confused, but soon a giggle escaped her lips, just because he was laughing. Dean blinked, then laughed too, a gruff, easy sound. This was home. Messy and tangible.
“It’s okay, Lucy-love,” Cas said, crouching by her, “Things break. It's what they do. Why don't we find your new room?” He glanced up at Dean, raising a brow.
Dean nodded, his grin softening.
Cas gave her a reassuring hug, “Let Daddy start tucking you into your new bed,” he said, “I’ll be right there.”
Lucy sniffed again but ran back to Dean. Her sleepy head fell on his shoulder as he carried her down the hall.
Cas remained for a moment, standing by the tree. The pine filled the air. There was a twinge of exhausted delirium filling the room, filling the house. Golden glitter clung to his fingers as Cas picked up three large pieces of the broken ornament.
- THEN, Christmas Eve Night -
Cas carefully placed the 'baby's first Christmas' ornament on the tree, a glittery pile of crap left to go. Dean leaned against a table, arms crossed, watching him.
Lucy lay next to him, strapped into her carrier on the table. Her eyes were heavy with sleep as she watched Cas in some kind of baby trance. Dean smirked. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but she was captivated. Cas looked like this was the most important task he’d ever undertaken.
“Lucy,” Cas said gravely, turning to the baby and holding up the two bunches of tinsel, “What do you think? Red or silver?”
Dean’s lips twitched at the absurdity. This whole scene was ridiculous. Cas was ridiculous. Beautifully ridiculous.
And suddenly, the moment settled into his chest, something terrifying and freeing. Cas was staying here, doing this, decorating a tree for a holiday that didn’t make sense in their world, for a baby who wouldn't remember any of it. And yet, Dean had to admit he was... happy? Sam, Eileen, and Jody were coming down for Christmas to meet Lucy. All just as confused and excited as Dean and Cas that they were raising a demigoddess now.
He felt excited.
But, he was nervous too because he hadn't told them about... the rest of it. The him and Cas of it.
Well, now that Dean was thinking about it, was there anything to tell? All he really did was touch Cas's hair while he sat there stunned. Had Dean misread everything ever?
He focused in on Cas in this weird domestic moment and he didn’t seem to want more than this. But, Dean wanted more. He’d always wanted more.
Since the day he ripped him out of Hell, Cas had been it for Dean, he just hadn't figured it all out yet. And as he stumbled through the fears, the abandonments, the sacrifices, the laughs, the togetherness, the longing, it settled in. Cas trickled into parts of Dean's he didn't know existed and then solidified himself there like gold reinforcing cracks in an old pot.
Once he took stock of himself, all those years ago, he had been sure he was just too human. Dean wanted stupid, human things. It was silly to think an angel could feel something so human. Sure, he knew Cas felt strongly, but it meant something different than it did to Dean. For all the lingering touches, the heat, the infuriation, there had always been the 'but he's not human, he doesn't want like that'.
Over the years that resolve thinned and waivered. Then it collapsed when black goo enveloped the love of his life. The whole epic made sense to Dean then, the star-crossed tragedy of it all.
But then Cas was back, and Dean was hyper aware of his determined contentment with how things were.
Dean’s thoughts were spiraling. Had he been wrong? Cas’s big, emotional confession, was it just a cosmic thank-you? Nothing romantic at all?
Dean swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on Cas facing the tree, deliberating on the tinsel. The guy was oblivious to Dean’s inner meltdown, completely at peace in this little moment. And maybe Dean should just be fine with this too, with what they already had. He didn't need more.
But he wanted. There was no sense holding it back just because he didn't know... He didn't know anything. There was no sense to any of it.
And before he even knew what he was saying, the words were out of his mouth: “Man, I love you.”
Cas froze, one hand mid-air with the tinsel. He turned, eyes wide with shock.
Dean let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, okay, here we go,” he muttered, “I should’ve said something sooner. I was, uh...”
Cas still hadn’t moved, just listening.
Dean exhaled shakily, “Of course I love you, uh, too. I… Want...” he grimaced, “... to do things with you.”
Cas’s brows furrowed slightly, not quite understanding. Why was just saying this shit the scariest thing he'd ever done?
“God, that sounded dumb,” he said, running a hand over his face, “I’ve wanted you for so long you’d think I’d be able to just say it.”
He glanced up at Cas again, who had stepped closer, well within arm’s reach. Dean’s hand hovered at his side, bouncing a little.
“You’ve always been good at saying what you mean. Like you did back then…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
Words weren't working. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing along Cas’s jawline. There was scruff there, more than usual since Lucy didn't allow much time for shaving. Cas didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back, just watched. When he didn’t give any sort of sign, Dean hesitated, starting to withdraw.
“Is, uh… do you want…” Dean let out a frustrated huff, “Fuck, Cas. I want to kiss you. Can I do that?”
Cas smiled suddenly, like he was charmed and amused by the question itself, "Yes, Dean. I-"
That was all Dean needed. Both hands came up to cup Cas’s face, and he kissed him. It was still and firm at first. Then Cas was kissing him back, fully, like the wrath of heaven still buzzed under his skin.
Dean had kissed a lot of people in his life, but this was the first time he'd kissed his best friend. The first time years of tension clattered into one messy press of lips. All his pining couldn't have prepared him for the realness of it.
Cas's hands found his neck. Dean dropped his down Cas's chest, to his sides and grabbed his hips. He held them there, tethered.
The patience Cas held before was nowhere to be seen. He had Dean leaning back on the table for support. Then Dean ran the tip of his tongue over Cas's bottom lip, eliciting a rumble straight from Cas's throat. That was the kind of sound Dean was going to get addicted to.
When Cas parted his lips, Dean dove in, eager to find those sounds again. He wanted to learn all the ways to make Cas melt.
Then Dean remembered his hands and they itched for more. He pushed Cas's borrowed shirt until he found skin. He felt the warmth under his fingers, trailing from his hip bones to his back.
Cas's lips left his just for a second to make this intoxicating gasp. He readjusted their angle and then it was Cas exploring his mouth. Dean moaned and pulled at Cas's skin, quickly getting lost. He would never get enough of this.
When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, both were breathing hard. Dean opened his eyes to see Cas's closed. Lucy was sleeping in his peripheral.
Then Cas opened those freaking blue eyes. They were unreal. And before Dean realized it, for the second time that night, words fell out before he could stop them: "Marry me."
It was crazy how Cas could still look shocked about anything after the last few days.
Dean considered backpedaling, but then, “I mean, why not, right? We’ve basically been a thing for years. Marriage doesn’t really mean anything since we’re both legally dead, probably, and hell, nothing really means anything but I just… I just want this, us. You and me. 'Til the end.”
He paused, “Plus rings would be cool.”
Cas let out a small, breathless laugh before starting another kiss, a promise.
When they broke apart again, Cas smiled through a puzzled haze. So human. Then, like Dean had questioned an obvious universal truth, Cas answered, “Of course I'd marry you."
And that was absurd, the whole thing of it, but goddamn was it good.