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Dean watched his fiancé from the doorway to their bedroom. His lips were twitching with a barely controlled smile as he leaned against the frame, eyes raking over the ex-angel curled underneath the covers, squinting down at a stack of old photographs. He loved watching Cas read for two reasons: 1. A few months after Cas became human for good, they realised he was slightly long-sighted, and glasses made him look super hot, and 2. He had this adorable tendency to crinkle his nose and purse his lips whenever he was trying to focus on something, which for some reason really turned Dean on.
"Man, you're gorgeous."
Cas jerked his head so quickly that his glasses fell down the slope of his nose and landed on his mouth. He shoved the photographs under the blanket and put his glasses on the bedside table, giving Dean a quivering smile.
"How long have you been stood there?"
"Not long," he rapped his knuckles against the wall, then closed the door behind him. "Just appreciating my smoking hot husband-to-be."
Cas' shoulders sagged. "I can assure you, my body temperature is at a comfortable 98.8 degrees Fahrenheit; slightly above average, but that's probably because of all the blankets."
Dean hummed. "You know, when you start talking all angel-like, it's usually 'cause you've got something on your mind."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Seriously, Cas? You're a crappy liar, you know that?"
"Why do both you and Sam believe that? May I remind you of all the times I've deceived you in the past?"
"Please, don't," he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to squeeze Cas' knee. "C'mon, man. We're getting married in less than a month, and you can't even tell me what's going on inside that head of yours?"
"I'm afraid I'm being paranoid."
"Well, try me."
After a beat of silence, Cas reached under the blanket and pulled out the photographs, placing one face-up in front of Dean. It was an old photo, taken over ten years ago now, of him, Ben and Lisa, sharing a huge bowl of nachos at the bowling alley. He was smiling in the picture, but there was an emptiness in his eyes as well. As much as he'd loved and appreciated his time with the Braedens, the life he'd shared with them had never felt quite right. At the end of the day, he was a hunter to the core, and playing house had never been in the cards for him.
"Oh, yeah," he plucked the photo off the bed and smiled. "I remember that day. Ben had just kicked our asses before this was taken. Smug kid."
Cas stared down at his hands. "Why do you still keep it?"
"The photo? I dunno… I guess I kinda miss them now and again. It's nice to just remember living a normal life sometimes."
"I see."
As soon as the words left Cas' mouth, he knew he'd screwed up. There was a crease between his eyebrows as he leaned over to switch off the lamp, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
"Well, goodnight, Dean."
"Not so fast," he caught his fiancé's hand and held it. "Please tell me you're not jealous."
"What on earth gave you that impression?"
"Okay, so that's a yes."
"I'm fine," Cas yanked his hand free and pulled back the covers, dangling his legs over the bed. "I need a glass of water."
"I'll go get it."
"I'm fully capable of getting it myself."
"Well, I'll come with you then."
"Dean -"
"I'm not in love with Lisa," he said, trying to keep his words even. "Maybe there was a time that we… Well, I mean, we lived together for more than a year, Cas. She was there for me when no one else was."
Cas looked away. "You know I was busy in heaven."
"Yeah, and I don't resent you for that. We're talking about a life that happened years ago."
"But you still carry her picture around with you."
"I keep it in a box," he lifted an eyebrow. "I don't cuddle up to it at night, do I? It's just a memory I don't wanna let go of just yet."
Cas tried to harden his expression, and failed. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't mean to sound so possessive, I just… You and Lisa were such a good match. When you turned to her after the apocalypse, I honestly believed you'd be with her forever. I didn't quite understand my feelings for you back then, so I was indifferent to the matter, but now the very thought of me stealing you away from your, your soulmate… It makes me wonder if your life wouldn't be far more enjoyable spent with her instead."
"Soulmates don't exist," Dean rolled his eyes. "I fell in love with a guy without a soul."
"Yes, but angels and humans aren't supposed to fall in love."
"Star-crossed lovers, ay?"
"You're missing the point, Dean. What if Lisa were your pre-destined partner for life? Your parents were matched by heaven itself, so what's to say you don't have a soulmate as well?"
"Heaven's plan for me was to hand my body over to Michael and fight Lucifer in some stupid fricking battle that was prophesied centuries ago. Do you really think the guys upstairs thought I was gonna make it this long? Why the hell would they make a soulmate for some poor sap who was supposed to die when he was thirty?"
Cas shook his head. "Soulmates aren't necessarily meant to live happily ever after. Mary was always meant to be with your father, but she was always meant to die when their lives were only just beginning as well."
"And look at her now; she's alive and well, and she's coming to our wedding, Cas."
"But that was never supposed to happen."
"So? It did anyway."
"There has to be some kind of order to the world."
"And if there were, we'd all be dead."
Cas huffed a laugh. "What are you saying? Nothing's meant to be, and we should all live our lives without any precognition of where we're going or what we're supposed to be doing?"
"Exactly."
Before Cas could protest any further, Dean dragged him back into bed and kissed him deeply, letting the guy melt against his chest as their lips moved together with the kind of familiarity that couldn't be invented by a couple of winged dicks in the sky. He didn't give a fuck who he was supposed to be with; he'd been practicing the fine art of free will for long enough to know that nothing good ever came from trying to plan and predict your future. Maybe he was always supposed to end up with Lisa, but Cas was the one he'd chosen to be with. And really, that was all that mattered.
"You kissed me," Cas said with a frown. "Are you trying to distract me from arguing with you on this?"
"Well, your argument kinda sucks, so yeah."
"How am I supposed to believe that your life could ever be happier with me than with a beautiful woman and her son that you clearly still dote on?"
Dean pushed back the messy hair on Cas' forehead, smiling at the way he instinctively leaned into his touch. "I'm always gonna love them," he said. "They were the only family I had when you and Sam were gone, and they took me in when no one else would. Ben was like a son to me, and Lisa was the woman I loved for a long time. Would I go back and change that if I could? No. But that doesn't mean I'm still in love with her, Cas. She helped me through a tough time, but I don't think we were ever supposed to stay together. Sometimes, what works on paper doesn't actually work in the real world. I mean, who'd a thought I'd ever fall in love with some dorky angel with terrible taste in cars and music, and a dangerous obsession with honeybees?"
Cas laughed, but his eyes were red.
"You're an idiot," Dean murmured against his lips, tilting his head to press a kiss against the hollow of his throat. "D'you really think I'd get dressed up in a fricking tux and propose to just anyone, huh? I'm in this for the long haul, Cas. I'm in love with you, and it scares me, but it's the surest thing in my life right now."
"It is?"
"Uh huh," he smiled, stroking one side of Cas' face. "If you want any proof, just take a look inside my pockets."
Cas crunched his eyebrows together, then wordlessly checked the pockets of his jacket. They were mostly empty, and Dean could sense that Cas was getting a little frustrated, but then his fingers closed around something in the inside pocket, the one Dean reserved for special items he couldn't bare to lose, and Cas' face instantly lit up. When he pulled his hand back out, he was holding two photographs. The first was slightly faded and crinkled with age; a photo of him and Sam drinking a couple of beers at Bobby's house after a hunt. The other was newer, still glossy and smooth. Cas touched it with his fingers and swallowed thickly, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
"It's us," he croaked.
Dean hooked his chin over Cas' shoulder, smiling down at the photo in his hands. Sam had taken it just after Dean had proposed; he was still down on one knee, and Cas was giving him one of his signature, crinkly smiles. Mom was in the background with a bottle of champagne, and the look in her eyes said 'it's about time'. He couldn't help but grin every time he saw it, which is probably why he carried it around with him.
"Lisa's my past," he mumbled against Cas' shoulder. "You're my life now."
"Careful, Dean. You're venturing on sappy."
"There's a right time for chick-flick moments… Trying to convince my fiancé how stupid he is for not realizing how much I'm in love with him is definitely one them."
Cas put the photos aside, then turned his head to capture Dean's lips. He could feel him smiling into the kiss, and it made the whole thing infinitely better. Sometimes, you had to spew a bunch of a lovey-dovey crap for the greater good. And Cas was definitely worth it.
"If you ever want me to give them their memories back, I'll do it," Cas said with earnest. "If you ever change your mind about us, just know you have that option."
Dean sighed. "If you don't shut up and kiss me in the next five seconds, we're gonna have a problem."
"I'm just saying -"
"You're talking a load of bullshit," he lowered his voice and pushed Cas against the bed. "There's only one person out there for me, and I'm looking at them," he lifted Cas' hand and kissed the silver band glinting on his finger. "I gave you this ring 'cause I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, okay? I'm probably not gonna hit fifty, but until the next big bad wipes me out, I plan on being the sappiest husband on the planet. Capiche?"
Cas looked up at him, eyes glimmering. "I capiche."
"Good. Now, let's have sex."
"How romantic."
"Hey, I said I'm gonna be the world's sappiest husband. I can be as raunchy and inappropriate as I like while we're still engaged."
Cas chuckled. "Remind me: how did I fall for such an insufferable assbutt?"
"It was probably my dashing good looks."
"Ah, of course."
They didn't do much talking after that, but Dean was still clutching onto Cas' hand, the cool metal of the ring a strange comfort against his burning skin, as his fiancé sunk into him, biting a promise against his neck. They both had troubled pasts - there was no way of ignoring that - but who cared? All Dean gave a crap about right now was his future with Cas, and honestly? It was shaping up to be a pretty awesome future indeed.