Work Text:
Proposal one shot
They've been officially dating for 1 year, 8 months, 11 days, and 10 hours, not that Dean's counting. He's sure at this point that Cas is it for him; no one else in the world will know him as well as his best friend does, and has since they first met 3 years ago.
Dean smiles to himself as he remembers the scrawny little thing in a trench coat, staring defiantly up at him. The way intense blue eyes turned to thin slits while he stood, frozen in place by the sheer intensity of the stare. Dean remembers the deep voice robbing him of speech with a simple, "thank you."
The memory of that VOICE renders him incapable of thinking straight, the only thing he can hear is Castiel's low gravel purring endearments and encouragement in his ear as they fucked in the backseat of his Impala mere hours ago. The way Cas' eyes had rolled back in ecstasy as they came together.... Dean shifts subtlety in his seat, trying to adjust himself.
That was, by no means, the first time they'd had sex, and it was most definitely not going to be the last. Not if Dean has anything to say about that. And he hoped he would have a LOT to do with anything involving Castiel.
If Dean got what he was hoping for, Castiel would be his, and no one else's forever. No more coming home to an empty apartment while Cas was out late with another man who wasn't Dean. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop . No more fear of the day Cas decided Dean wasn't good enough for him and left.
He makes a sound not unlike that of a dying cow as he imagines waking up one morning, abandoned and alone.
"Hello, Dean."
The frown immediately melts into a smile as Dean takes in his boyfriend's perpetually messy black hair and those striking blue eyes that had captivated him from the get go. He lets his eyes roam up and and down Castiel's body purposefully, appreciatively.
'Mine,' he preens when he notices Cas shiver from his heated gaze.
Dean stands, unable to just sit there when those perfect lips are less RIGHT fucking THERE. He practically throws himself at Castiel, nipping at his bottom lip before tracing the outline of his boyfriend's mouth with his tongue, seeking entry. With a soft gasp, Castiel parts his lips eagerly. Dean can't stop himself from grabbing the back of Cas' head and dragging their bodies flush together.
The need to just be WITH Castiel made Dean's head spin. It wasn't even just for the sex, though that was pretty damn good, too.
After his parents' death, Dean was a wreck. He had to be strong in front of Sammy, but once he was safely tucked under his covers, Dean let loose all the pain and anger and guilt that had been burning inside of him the past few months.
The next morning, Bobby gave him knowing, sad eyes. He handed Dean an envelope. When he opened it, the details of his parents' wills spilled out . That set off a whole 'nother round of tears. Bobby stood by, patiently waiting them out. Afterwards, he pat Dean on the back in a way his own, deceased father never would've. It was a gesture of comfort and reassurance. It was going to be okay, it said. It'll get better, you'll see.
A week later with Bobby's help, Dean got a job working in a car repair shop in the middle of town. The work was good... Easy. After rebuilding his father's Impala from the ground up, anything the little town of Sioux Falls had to throw at him was a piece of cake; or pie. Dean loved pie.
During his first week of work, Dean found himself face to face with the ugliest car he'd ever seen. A car that belonged to a seriously NOT ugly dude.
Despite being covered by a tan trench coat that drowned his frame, Dean could still see a lithe body underneath the coat. Not to mention that the dude looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, the way his hair stuck out all over the place. Dean inexplicably found himself wanting to run his hands through it, to see if it was as soft as it looked.
Dean couldn't help but feel a prick of annoyance when Meg Masters sauntered up to them. She was a regular at the shop, here for yet another repair on yet another car her father, Azazel had managed to destroy. She'd come into the store every day for the past week and a half at least, and longer, according to Garth, who'd been working here for a year. From what Dean could tell, Meg stood around bossing everyone around, rolling her eyes at every attempt a hopeful smile tossed her way. Dean was reminded of Ruby, one of Sam's exes back in high school. The bitch just used everyone around her to get what she wanted.
"Can I help you with anything?" Meg drawled lazily.
"No , thank you. I'm good," Trenchcoat replied. He squinted at her as she sashayed closer to him, getting into his personal space.
"In that case, can you help ME with something?" She persisted.
Dean knew where this was going but apparently this sexy little thing didn't know just how freaking sexy he was. Trying (and failing) to convince himself he was doing this for the customer, and definitely not for any selfish, jealous reasons, Dean stepped forward, putting himself between Meg and Trenchcoat.
"He said he's got it, Meg," he said smoothly.
"What was the problem with your car?" He asked loudly, forcing both of them to look at him. On the receiving end of that stare, Dean's mouth went dry.
Luckily he was saved from making a fool of himself when the other man huffed and walked away, though not before leering at Trenchcoat.
"See you around, sexy," she called over her shoulder, swinging her hips suggestively.
"I doubt it," Trenchcoat replied so seriously that Dean couldn't help the laugh that threatened to choke him.
After she'd finally gone, Trenchcoat turned to him.
"Thank you," he said, addressing Dean. It took him a moment to realize he was being addressed; too busy trying to wrap his mind around the fact that that voice, paired with that face, and those god forsaken EYES were all part of one, single person. Dean thought he was going to die.
"I'm Castiel," the man continues, probably wondering if he really was in the right place after all.
"Dean, " Dean manages, "my name's Dean."
He's yanked back to the present at the sensation of long fingers gripping the back of his neck, just the way he liked it. Dean locks gazes with the selfsame eyes that had haunted his every moment all those years ago, Dean still can't believe Castiel is HIS. And he's Castiel's. That thought drags a deep moan out of him.
After a long moment, Dean finally pulls away from the warm, inviting lips in front of him, made all the more irresistible swollen and wet from kissing.
"Hey, Cas." He says softly. He grins, noticing that he's not the only one panting and breathless.
"Hello, Dean," Cas repeats patiently, amusement coloring his usually humorless tone.
Dean scrambles to his feet so he can pull Cas' chair out for him.
He mutters, "Just tryin' to be a good boyfriend." That startles a laugh out of Castiel.
"You're the best boyfriend in the world," he assures Dean with a quick peck on the lips.
The waitress comes over to take their orders. She's smiling like a madwoman, and Dean fervently hopes Cas won't get suspicious.
"Can I get you guys anything to drink?" She asks suggestively. Dean can feel his face melting under the sheer brightness of her smile.
"A pot of the best tea you'd recommend?" He inquires, looking to Cas for approval. His boyfriend nods in acquiescence, but not before giving Dean a strange look.
"You don't like tea," he informs Dean after the waitress has gone .
"Maybe I want to try something new," he tries pathetically. Cas narrows his eyes, so reminiscent of their first meeting that Dean has to smile.
"You clean up good," he begins, changing the subject. His boyfriend rolls his eyes, but Dean catches the blush that floods his cheeks.
"I don't understand why you had me dress so nicely; we both know this suit won't last the night with the way I know you'll treat it," Castiel points out primly.
The waitress, who's chosen this moment to return to their table with their drinks, chokes on nothing.
"Your drinks, gentlemen," she says, setting down the cups hurriedly before rushing away, coughing behind her hand. Dean watches her flee, privately smiling at her reaction.
Castiel's eyes widen as he takes in the fancy looking china in front if them.
'What is this?' His eyes ask. Dean shrugs in what he hopes is wide eyed innocence.
"Tea?" He says aloud, gesturing at the pot. When Cas nods, Dean busies himself pouring his boyfriend a cup.
He pointedly avoids eye contact as he clears his throat. Dean can FEEL Cas' stare, but refuses to look him in the eye.
"It's almost been two years since we started dating," Dean informs Cas.
"Shit, did I miss the 10 month anniversary of our second year?" Cas asks. Dean allows himself a peek from under his lashes, just to see Cas' eyebrows furrowed in concentration, genuinely concerned that he'd missed something important.
"No no," he ensures him quickly . " actually, I was hoping He's endeared beyond belief at his boyfriend's overwhelming capability to care. It's why Dean fell in love with him, well, one of the reasons.
"Falling in love with you, and receiving your love in return, was far beyond anything I might've allowed myself to imagine. Loving you has been both a joy and a chore, and I mean that in the best way possible. You gave me hope that I would turn out alright even when I didn't have the same optimism you did. You gave me so much, so I find it fair to offer you the only thing I think is equal to all you've done for me.
Cas' eyes are wide in expectation- hoping beyond a hope but afraid to let it show; and Dean's own heart is beating erratically in his chest. He gets down on one knee. Reaches inside his suit jacket for the tiny box that had been a heavy weight inside of him, literally and figuratively, just waiting. Waiting for Castiel to show. Waiting for Dean to gather his courage. Waiting for that insufferable waitress to leave so that they would have to wait no longer. Waiting in anticipation for the moment when both men would realize that everything that had happened in their lives came down to this one moment- this one small, significant question.
"Castiel James Novak," Dean said solemnly, easing the satin box open, "Your love is my desire; your wishes are my privilege. If I haven't scared you off or chased you away by now, either you've been playing me from the start, or you've accepted me and my heart; and I totally didn't mean for that to rhyme," Dean breaks off suddenly. Tears are pricking at the corner of one eye and Cas is looking down at him with such softness and openness that Dean knows he'd better get to the point before Cas could change his mind. "Cas, my best friend, my love, will you marry me?"