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They stopped at a park on the way back to Dean’s apartment. Baby’s trunk was full of gifts, evidence of a successful Christmas shopping trip, and so it was with satisfaction that Dean leaned against the hood of the car and pulled out his burger from the takeout bag.
Cas was similarly content, and they enjoyed each other’s company in silence for a few minutes as they began their meal. At a nearby jungle gym, children threw snowballs at each other from the little flakes of ice they’d been able to scrape together. Dean tried not to watch them too closely - you could never be too careful - but Cas observed them with a furrowed brow.
Apropos of nothing, he said, “How do parents handle the Santa situation?”
Dean wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What do you mean?”
“When would one begin telling a child about Santa? And how does one deal with the inevitable fallout when they realize he isn’t real?”
Dean’s stomach turned a little bit. “You thinkin’ about kids all of a sudden?”
“Not sure,” Cas said, examining his burger and plucking out a piece of onion with his fingers.
Another silence descended. Dean frowned at his meal, his appetite lost.
Meanwhile, Cas plucked out another onion slice. “I don’t think I believed in Santa,” he said eventually. “But I knew about him. I wish I could remember who first told me the tale.”
“I learned about him when I was in middle school,” Dean admitted. “The first time I stayed at one school for more than a few months. Pretty sure by then I was too old to believe.”
Cas lifted his eyes to the playground again. “No doubt at least a few of these children believe in Santa.” He sucked some stray ketchup off his thumb, and Dean had to look away.
“Good for them,” he said. “They should enjoy being kids.”
“In a few years, maybe even this year, their parents are going to have to admit to their lies.”
“It’s harmless,” Dean replied, waving away Cas’s curious stare. “It’s good for ‘em. Teaches ‘em to question things, question motives. Gets ‘em ready for the adult world of backstabbing and lies.”
Cas smiled at him. It was wide and affectionate. “I thought you said they should enjoy being kids?”
Dean bit down on a reflexive smile. “It’s one little thing, alright? Santa’s like - 1% of the kid experience. They’ve got the other 99% to think about - cooler, more important shit.”
“Like what?”
“Like the shit they do on the daily, y’know? If they can con their parents into letting them have candy for breakfast. Or sneaking down at midnight to have some ice cream. Or building a pillow fort. Or stickers. Or farts.”
“Farts?”
“Kids like farts.”
“No one likes farts.”
“You don’t know kids then.”
Cas conceded with a tilt of his head. “You’re right. Maybe they do enjoy farts.”
They finished their burgers and sipped at their sodas. It was when Dean was returning from the trash can that he saw the wistful look on Cas’s face as he listened to the yells and laughter of the kids. He smacked Cas on the arm. “You good?”
Up close, Dean could see the downturn of Cas’s lips. “Just thinking about the future,” Cas said eventually. When he turned to Dean, he was smiling woodenly.
Dean’s gut turned sour again, and he knew himself better than to blame it on the burger. “So you are thinkin’ about kids.”
Cas looked down at his shoes. “I think I might be.”
Dean ran a hand over his chin, then cleared his throat. “Good for you, man. I think you’d be a good dad.”
Cas looked at him. “And you too. You’d be an amazing father.”
The expression on Cas’s face - sincere, soft, affectionate - made Dean’s throat tight. He laughed too loudly. “Hey, listen, when you do have kids, you can tag me in any time, alright?”
The wistfulness had vanished from Cas’s face. He was smiling. “Agreed. I’ll let you handle the Santa situation.”
----
Cas started fostering Jack a year later, and it was apparent very early on to Dean that fatherhood was Cas’s calling. Yes, he was always tired, and yes, he didn’t have nearly as much time for Dean as he did before, but Jack was thriving and Cas was happy - and because of that, Dean was happy, even if it meant losing Cas’s attention to fatherhood.
Dean’s disappointment was lessened by the fact that Jack quickly became just as attached to Dean as he was to his foster dad, so if Dean spent a few days a week at Cas’s place to “help out with the baby,” no one questioned his motives.
“You ever going to tell him?” Sam asked one day as he and Dean watched Cas carry Jack around Sam’s garden. Jack was a grabby kid, and Cas was constantly having to stop him from putting flowers in his mouth.
Dean didn’t bother asking what Sam was talking about. “He doesn’t need that on his plate right now.”
Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, unconvinced. “So when? When he gives Jack up? You and I both know that’s never happening.”
“Then never,” Dean snapped, even though just the thought of holding it all in for one more day made Dean’s chest feel tight.
Sam ran a hand over his mouth like he was trying to stop himself from saying anything else, but Sam was nothing if not nosy. “We both know never’s not an option. It’s gotta be now, Dean. Or if not now, then soon. You’re already playing house with Cas. Plus there’s a kid involved now - a kid who absolutely adores you - so I hate to say it, but if things have to go south, it has to happen before Jack’s any older.”
Dean stared at Sam. “That’s fucked up, Sammy.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t know this already,” Sam said, though his tone was gentle. “I’m just saying out loud what you don’t want to admit.”
Cas was approaching with Jack, so Dean didn’t respond.
“I apologize,” Cas said to Sam. “Jack might have destroyed a few blooms.” He opened his palm and offered the crushed red blooms up for inspection. It could have been Dean’s bloody heart for how much he was hurting.
It was obvious that Sam was still watching Dean out of the corner of his eye, but he spared a smile and a tummy tickle for Jack. “No harm done, little guy.”
----
Dean knew Sam was right, knew that for Jack’s sake, his two de facto parents needed to be on the same page about what they were to each other - but there was never a good time to bring it up. Was Dean supposed to just spill his heart out onto the dining room table with Jack’s sliced fruit? He contemplated asking Sam for advice, but 1) Dean did not want nor would he accept any pity from his little brother and 2) Sam was busy getting ready for his wedding.
So Dean, Cas, and Jack went on with their lives - separate but hopelessly intertwined, and all Dean could do was lie awake at night hoping that when the time came, he’d be able to make sense of the mess of tangled knots they’d created.
----
Jack made the cutest ring bearer. Cas was a groomsman, but he’d asked to escort Jack up the aisle, and Sam and Eileen had loved the idea. Dean had loved the idea too, mostly because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to stomach the sight of Cas walking down the aisle in his smartly-tailored suit, arm-in-arm with Eileen’s cousin Sara. In the moment, however, Dean loved the idea simply because Cas was incandescent, smiling widely down at Jack, holding Jack’s hand as the toddler took his too-big, unsteady steps down the garden path.
At the end of the walk, when Cas had deposited Jack safely with Gabriel in the front row, he took his place by Dean’s side.
Dean couldn’t help but smile at him, helpless with affection. “I’m happy for you, Cas,” he said, just as the guests stood up to welcome the bride.
Cas ducked his head bashfully, but he put a hand on Dean’s back in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”
----
Cas cornered him at the reception, where Dean was lurking at the edges of the dance floor. “Can we talk?” he said, leaning in to be heard over the music.
Dean had two servings of whiskey in him. “Always, Cas.”
Cas looked him oddly, but he said nothing. He led Dean away from the reception tent (where Gabriel and Garth were taking turns to dance with Jack in their arms) and stopped when they were far enough away to hear each other without yelling.
Cas was pink-cheeked from champagne, his hair was a mess, and Dean was so in love with him it hurt. “What do you need?” he asked, because concentrating on what Cas needed kept Dean from focusing on what Dean wanted.
“I thought I should tell you before it gets any farther in the proceedings - I’ve started the formal process of adopting Jack.”
Dean’s heart was full to bursting. He swallowed down a sudden urge to cry. “That’s great news, man,” he said, pulling Cas into a rough hug. “Congratulations!”
Cas’s arms wrapped tight around Dean, his chin hooked over Dean’s shoulder. There was a telltale sniff at his ear, so Dean just held on tighter to his best friend.
When Cas drew away a minute later, his nose was red. He kept his hands at Dean’s elbows. “I’ve asked so much of you already - “
“Stop right there,” Dean said, shaking his head, “because that’s not true. Whatever I did, I did because I wanted to. Because I’d do anything for that kid.”
Cas looked at Dean so tenderly it made Dean’s throat tight. “And I’m so grateful for that, Dean. You’ve been the best support I could have asked for.” Cas looked down, his eyebrows furrowing. The hands at Dean’s elbows tightened. “But I have to ask of you one more thing.”
There was no universe out there where Dean would have refused Cas anything. “Spit it out, Cas.”
“If something were to happen to me,” Cas said, eyes brimming, “would you take him in?”
Dean took hold of Cas’s elbows too, a reassurance that Cas was still there in front of him, still alive, still breathing. “Cas, you’re going to be kicking for a long time. Jack will have grandbabies before you check out.”
Cas smiled softly. He indulged Dean. “Still, if I should go before you - “
Helpless, absolutely wrecked, Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sammy had just gotten married to the best woman on Earth a few hours prior. A few yards away, the people Dean loved were dancing to “The Cha-Cha Slide.” And now Cas was asking Dean to take on the biggest honor of his life in the same sentence that Cas was talking about his inevitable death. Dean’s eyes welled up.
Cas touched Dean’s face for a brief moment. “I’m sorry to do this to you.”
Dean swiped at his eyes stubbornly. “Cas, I meant it when I said I’d do anything for that kid. If he ever loses you, he’s going to have me. Don’t even think about apologizing for that.”
“Thank you,” Cas said. There were tears on his cheeks too. “That makes me feel less scared of the future.”
Dean sniffed. He straightened Cas’s tie. “But hey, no takebacks, alright? Even if you go and get yourself hitched, I’m not giving Jack up.”
Cas’s mouth lifted at the corner, but Dean knew it was just for show. “I don’t think marriage is in the cards for me, Dean,” Cas admitted.
It was the way Cas looked at him that made Dean remember what Sam had said a few months before. If Dean was ever going to say something, it had to be right at this moment.
“Listen, Cas,” Dean said, clearing his throat, “now that we know Jack’s gonna be sticking around, you should know something.”
The hands at Dean’s elbows tightened again. “Tell me,” Cas said, his eyes growing worried. He stepped closer, studying Dean’s face.
Dean was crying again, and he despised it. “I’m in love with you,” he said. He was terrified, anxious, and angry with himself at the same time. “So if that changes things - if you want me to fuck off and never talk to you or Jack again - now’s the time to tell me.”
Cas took a shaky breath. He cradled Dean’s face. “My love,” he murmured, eyes warm though they were still brimming with tears. “Love of my life.”
Dean almost laughed. Incredulous, he asked, “What? Who, me?”
Cas kissed him. It tasted like salt, and Dean was still crying, and honestly he had no idea what was happening, but Cas was patient with him, kissing his cheek when Dean did nothing but stare.
He drew back after the first few seconds, smiling despite Dean’s shock. “Yes, you,” he confirmed. His hands went to Dean’s tie. His voice was thick when he spoke again. “So no, in case it isn’t obvious, I do not want you to ‘fuck off.’”
This had not been what Dean was expecting. Tentatively, he touched Cas’s face, just a brush of fingers against Cas’s cheek, not bothering to hide his amazement when Cas smiled at him.
“Kind of slow on the uptake,” Cas said. His nose was still pink. “Maybe I should be in charge of Jack’s studies.”
It hit Dean all at once. Cas was his. Jack was his. Everything he’d ever wanted in this world was his. He kissed Cas properly this time.
----
They returned to the reception a few minutes later. Eileen, upon seeing Cas’s glossy eyes and pink nose, instinctively grabbed a butter knife to throw at Dean’s throat, but Sam tugged her arm down and pointed at Dean and Cas’s joined hands.
The pair mingled with the guests hand-in-hand for most of the night, only letting go to pick up Jack and swing him between them.
Later on, in the parking lot, with Jack asleep in his car seat and buckled safely in the back seat of the Impala, Cas turned to Dean, who had his arm around Cas’s waist.
Cas smiled at him. He said two words: “Marry me.”
Dean didn’t know how he had any tears left in him. “Jesus. Give a guy a break,” he said, his voice cracking.
“Earlier I said marriage wasn’t in the cards for me,” Cas explained, smiling widely, apparently pleased that he was making Dean cry so much. “I don’t want you to misunderstand - it’s in the cards if it’s you.”
Dean touched his forehead to Cas’s, so happy he could barely get any words out. “Cas, you know it’s a yes.”
----
Jack was five years old and came home from kindergarten with a coloring sheet of Santa. Cas looked at Dean, mouth thin. “I’m tagging you in,” he said, then left the room.
“Can we see Santa at the mall, dad?” Jack asked, tongue between his teeth as he scribbled with his crayon.
Dean put a hand on Jack’s back. “Sure, bud,” he said. “You can tell him what you want for Christmas.”
He pulled out his phone. You’re dealing with the tooth fairy, he texted Cas.
Fine. You talk to him about the Easter Bunny then.