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Talking to Sam again, after everything that happened, was sort of like riding a bike again after a long time away. The motions were all there, but there was still something preventing the two of them from getting along like they used to. They were out of practice a little bit, and having Sam run away from the hunt was hard. It was hard for Dean to admit it, but it was hard.
“You and Cas had a few weeks together on the road,” Sam said, flicking through the newspaper, eyes trained down. He was trying to be cordial again, to figure out their pattern. They had done so much fighting as of recently that it was hard for Dean to remember what their relationship was like before all of this, before Cas and Ruby.
“Yeah,” Dean said, sipping his beer. He rubbed the fingers on his left hand, trying to scrub off some of the oil from cleaning the guns out. He hated the way it stained his hands, and he knew that Cas was going to bitch about it later. Say something about how he’ll leave grease stains on their clothes.
“What did you two get up to?” Sam asked, looking up at Dean, trying to start the conversation.
“Met an archangel, went to Vegas, had to stop by Bobby’s. Nothing out of the ordinary,” Dean said, half shrugging. He took another sip of his beer, kicking his feet up on the spare chair next to him, the one meant for Cas. He knew Cas was off doing angel business, or whatever he got up to when he felt like Sam and Dean needed to talk. He could be good at reading the room sometimes, even if he forgot what personal space was like.
“Vegas? Why?” Sam asked, looking up and frowning. “You hate the heat,” Sam added, letting the newspaper drop to the table.
“We were looking into a lead,” Dean said. Which was only half true. They had both heard that the Colt might be in Las Vegas, but that wasn’t the primary reason for being there. Even if that was the excuse he gave to Bobby and Jo and Ellen in the end.
“Dean,” Sam said, his eyes narrowing on where Dean’s hand was grabbing his beer bottle. “When did you start wearing a ring?”
The ring in question was a gold band on his ring finger on his left hand. No one had bothered questioning it so far, but he figured that there would be questions eventually. The great Dean Winchester pinned down by some gorgeous lady who just had to have him all to herself. That was probably what others were thinking, even if Sam wasn’t thinking it. That’s the reputation that was likely to spread.
Even if the other ring was on Cas’ hand.
“In Vegas. Picked it up while I was there,” Dean said, looking at where it lay flush against his finger. He sort of liked the ring on his hand, the way it shined when he moved and stood out as he gripped his beer bottle.
Cas appeared next to him with the signature rush of air, which Dean now knew was the sound of his wings. He didn’t startle like Sam did, only glancing up at where Cas was standing a little too close to him, invading his personal space. He looked down at Dean, his blue eyes as piercing as they always were. “It seems I require money to buy items. I was planning on picking up dinner for you two, and I forgot about the monetary aspect of food,” Cas said. His hand was brushing against Dean’s arm, and if Sam had looked closer, he would have noticed the wedding band on Cas’ hand and the way that Cas pressed his fingers against Dean’s arm.
“Here,” Dean said, pulling out his wallet. He produced two twenties and pressed them into Cas’ palm. “Either bring back change or more beer. Pick up something for yourself,” Dean said, winking at Cas.
Cas rolled his eyes and disappeared off to get food.
“When did Cas start running errands like that for us?” Sam asked, rearing his head back.
Dean shrugged. “Don’t question it too hard, Sammy, otherwise he’ll stop being so nice to me,” Dean said, standing. He put his empty beer on top of the tv, reaching down to turn it on. When he straightened, he noticed Sam’s eyes on him. “What.”
“You’re acting totally different,” Sam said, leaning back in his chair. “Relaxed, getting along really well with Cas, wearing a ring on your ring finger—” Sam cut himself off.
Dean could tell that he finally put the dots together, figured out what he was missing the past few days of him being back on the road. “Yeah, dude, I’m married,” Dean said, holding his hand up for Sam to see. “Why the hell else would I get a wedding band while I was in Vegas?”
“So what woman did you trap to be with you, and why isn’t she here?” Sam asked, reaching over to grab Dean’s hand, bringing the ring in question closer to his face.
“Whoosh,” Dean said, moving his hand over his own head. At the sight of Sam’s perplexed face, he laughed, turning away so he could wash his hands in the bathroom sink. “For being the smart one, you’re really stupid,” Dean added, looking at Sam in the bathroom mirror. He shook his head, slightly amused at this particular turn of events.
“Who else would you have married?” Sam asked, as if the answer wasn’t totally and completely obvious.
“Sam, I’m not mean enough to trap some girl into marriage who doesn’t know about the hunter life, and I’ve spent all my time on the road with Cas. So who does that leave for me to marry?” Dean asked, drying his hands off as he turned to look at Sam, widening his eyes as if making it more obvious.
“How the hell did you manage to convince Jo to marry you?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair as if he had solved the problem.
Dean sighed, shaking his head. He walked over to his bed, sitting hard on the edge. He heard the telltale sound of the wind as Cas appeared next to him, a fast food bag in one hand and a convenience store bag in the other. He handed the convenience store bag to Dean, walking the fast food over to Sam.
“I got a veggie burger. I know you’re trying to be healthy,” Cas said, pulling out a burger and fries for Sam. He carried the bag back over to the bed, sitting down next to Dean. “Save some of the fries for me,” Cas said, handing the bag over.
“No guarantees,” Dean said quietly, passing the convenience store bag over to Cas. He opened his food as he watched Cas pull out another six pack of beer and a few other small items. There were two candy bars, a bag of Cheetos, and a small toy horse. “A horse, Cas?” Dean asked, bumping his shoulder against Cas’.
“I find them to be majestic. You seem to like them too, because of cowboys,” Cas said, holding the horse up for Dean to see.
“Yeah, but I don’t like them because of cowboys,” Dean said around a bite of food. “I knew you liked Magnificent Seven more than me,” Dean said, pinching Cas’ thigh with his free hand. He grabbed his bag of fries and held it up for Cas, watching him as he carefully took a fry to eat.
“Oh,” Sam said from the table. Dean looked up to see his expression, suddenly knowing instead of confused. “You two got married.”
Dean froze where he was sitting, not particularly realizing exactly what he was doing. He had gotten more comfortable with Cas since they had gotten married, but he forgot that the level of comfortability he had was not something Sam was going to be used to. He and Cas always shared personal space before, it was now personal space plus some. He forgot about that.
“Can you give Sammy and I a few minutes,” Dean said quietly, bumping his shoulder into Cas’. He was trying to be kind about it, knowing that Cas just bought them food and probably wanted to sit on the bed and cuddle while they watched some shitty movie. That had sort of become their nighttime routine, when not hunting down something or other. They were trying to make the most of their time, considering the impending apocalypse.
“I’ll… go see what’s going on elsewhere,” Cas said. With a sound of wings he was gone, leaving the two of them alone.
“How the hell did you two get married?” Sam asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “I was not away from you two for that long, and I feel like I would have seen something beforehand,” Sam mused, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Well, Sam, when a man loves a— well a man,” Dean started, being purposefully funny about the whole situation. He did it more because of Sam’s incredulous response; Dean would so marry a man if he wanted to, and Sam acting otherwise was sort of insulting.
“No, Dean, I’m asking why!” Sam said, reaching as if to throw something at his brother.
“Alright! After you left, we were tracking down Raphael to get some information about God. We thought— Cas thought— that it might be our last night on Earth, if things didn’t go well. We weren’t really sure what to do in the presence of an archangel, and I certainly didn’t know what to do. I suggested a strip club, and Cas let me know he wasn’t of that sort of,” Dean paused, trying to think of the right words to explain it, “persuasion. He wasn’t going to lose his virginity to a girl, if you know what I mean.”
Sam shook his head, looking down. He ran a hand through his hair, as if attempting to process this particular bit of information. “But that doesn’t explain the marriage,” Sam said, interrupting the story.
“That’s because I’m not finished with the story,” Dean said, pressing his lips together. “We survived Raphael, obviously, and Cas had mentioned seeing something about getting married on tv. You had left on your own, and I wasn’t sure what would happen to me if I was left in some hospital somewhere, so we made a beeline for Vegas to get married. I had Bobby forge some documents for Cas making him a real person, and we got hitched by Elvis. It was awesome,” Dean said, smiling at the memory.
They had both donned some of the FBI suits that Dean kept in the trunk, and even though he had tried to straighten his tie several times, Dean tugged on Cas’ tie until it was loose, like it always was. They had stood in a tiny chapel on the main drag while an Elvis impersonator married them, humming and hawing like the real Elvis would. They exchanged rings and kissed while Elvis’ “Can't Help Falling in Love” played, which felt far too fitting for the scenario for Dean. He had always known Cas was hot, and he had sort of grown used to their closeness and dedication, but taking the marriage step felt even more right.
“But you don’t like guys,” Sam said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Sammy, I hate explaining this to you, but I swing both ways. I’m sure you understand that,” Dean said, his fists clenching at his sides.
“But you never said anything—”
“When was I going to say something, Sam? After Dad had found me making out with Trevor behind our hotel room when I was 14? When he sent me on the hunt to burn the bones of some dead lesbian nuns? When Dad beat me for acting too feminine in front of some other hunters, even though all I did was wear a red shirt?” Dean said, standing in his anger. He tried to let out a breath of air, not let the rage build up in him. He knew better than to let himself get angry, like Dad got angry.
“But you’ve dated so many girls,” Sam said.
Dean was getting a little frustrated with Sam’s obliviousness. He took gender studies in college, which meant that he should know enough about sexuality to know it is fluid and that Dean could like more than one gender at a time. “Sammy, I’m bi. Bisexual. Is that enough information for you?” Dean said, turning away from him. He tensed his shoulders, eyes closing at the memory of the last time he said those words out loud. He had gotten punched in the face by Dad and forced to wash all of the Impala, even detailing the inside. He braced himself for a hit, for something, for anything that was not a positive reaction.
“Oh.”
Sam got up, pulling at Dean’s shoulder. Dean waited for a punch, but instead Sam pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms around Dean’s tense shoulders. “I’m sorry about Dad. He should have accepted you for who you are,” Sam said quietly, hugging Dean tight. After a few moments, he let go, as if knowing that was Dean’s limits with emotions and affection.
“Now that it’s settled, we don’t have to talk about it again,” Dean said, sitting back down to eat his food. He grabbed some of the fries, shoving them in his mouth in an attempt to prevent any further questioning.
“So now that I’m back, are you going to divorce Cas?” Sam asked, grabbing his own burger again.
The thought hadn’t crossed Dean’s mind. Sure, he had married Cas when he thought Sam was never coming back, done with hunting. And sure, he wanted to make sure there was someone who was there in case his body didn’t make it out of the next few weeks alive. But he was married. He was raised that marriage was something sacred, and that getting married was not something one backed out on when things got hard or they changed. It was a for life kinda deal, at least that’s how Dean viewed it. He couldn’t imagine getting divorced anyways. There was no reason to, except for to legally untie himself from Cas for some reason. He didn’t mind that part.
“Divorce me?” Cas asked, appearing next to the bed.
“Why would I?” Dean asked, reaching over and tugging at Cas’ sleeve, pulling him back to sit next to him. “Being married is kinda great, Sammy.”
Sam looked at the two of them, narrowing his eyes like he did when he was attempting to analyze something during a hunt. He was analyzing them, figuring out what exactly had drawn them together in the first place. Little did he know, Dean was gone the moment Cas had pulled him from hell. It was inevitable.
“Practically, you do not have to stay married to me with your brother in the picture,” Cas said quietly, stealing Dean’s fries. His face stayed perfectly neutral during that sentence, and despite his past protests about lacking proper human qualities, Dean knew a face that was masking emotions. He could see right through to the hurt that was underneath. Cas had been around for centuries and was well aware of the fact that divorce was the ultimate way to end a romantic entanglement. If that’s what you could call their relationship.
“Hey, if you didn’t want to be stuck with me, you shoulda said so,” Dean said, leaning back a little bit and resting his arm on the bed, behind Cas. He was aware of Sam in the room, watching their every move. If they were alone, he might have kissed Cas because he could. Now, he settled for bumping their knees together.
“If you felt a need to marry someone else—” Cas said looking down at his hands.
“Who? My own brother? Bobby, who’s like a father? Jo or Ellen, a sister and mother to me? I think I’m good with you,” Dean said. Instead of kissing him or wrapping him up in his arms, he merely passed the fries over to Cas, pressing them into his hands. “I’m done with these, have the rest,” Dean said, picking up his burger. That was as good as proposing again, in terms of Dean’s romantic gestures. He was not the kind of person to willingly share food, and he certainly never gave up his fries to cheer someone up.
“You two are gross,” Sam muttered, throwing his wrapper across the room into the garbage can.
“I would say cute and adorable,” Dean said, throwing his wrapper at Sam. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have your own angel.”
Sam made a face at the two of them. “Gross. I’m going out for a walk, don’t wait up,” Sam said, gathering the last of his burger with him as he walked out of the motel room, the door slamming slightly as it shut.
There was silence as Dean finished his burger, knocking his knee gently against Cas’ in a steady rhythm. He liked the way that Cas brought his knee back to him every time, his shoulders slumped slightly as he finished the fries.
“He seems to have emotions about seeing the two of us together,” Cas noted, glancing up at the door. He looked as if he was concentrating on the door, trying to grasp any of Sam’s thoughts as if he laid a trail of them behind him.
“He thought I’d be a forever bachelor,” Dean said around his food, sliding the rest of Cas’ purchases to the ground. He adjusted so that his arm was more fully around Cas, hand resting against Cas’ back as he leaned into him. “I guess us getting married was a surprise to more people than I thought.”
“I don’t want to hold you back, Dean. I feel like I do that already considering the prophecy and the apocalypse,” Cas said, staring straight ahead.
“You don’t,” Dean said, leaning in and kissing the side of Cas’ neck, arm slipping around to pull him closer. “Better together and all that,” Dean murmured, ducking to kiss underneath his jaw.
It was so weird, to add that level of intimacy to their relationship, but once he started he couldn’t stop. He was like this in most of his other relationships; once he was fully involved with someone it was hard to let that piece of it go. Crossing that line with Cas was hard for Dean at first, and not because of the whole gender thing. It was because of the apocalypse and the fact that Cas was an angel who didn’t technically abide by the romantic and legal notions of marriage.
Dean still wasn’t sure Cas really knew what he was getting into when it came to a real romantic relationship. Which was why touching him, instigating things, wasn’t super high on Dean’s list. He didn’t want to force something that wasn’t there.
“Dean,” Cas said, sort of breathy. He gave him a look, one that was equal parts angry and lustful. He pushed at Dean’s shoulders, forcing him to lie flat on the bed. “Can we have sex again?” Cas asked, swinging his leg over to straddle Dean’s hips.
“You like that part, huh?” Dean asked playfully, hands coming up to rest on Cas’ hips.
“I’ve found that human desires can be quite pleasurable,” Cas said, leaning over Dean, bracing one arm on the bed. He kissed him hard, pressing their chests together clumsily. He was still getting used to this part of having a vessel, and his uncoordinated moves always had Dean pressing for more.
The door of the motel opened loudly, Sam hitting the door open. “I forgot my phone— guys! Gross!” Sam called out. He knocked something over on the table in his efforts to grab his phone and quickly backed out of the room, letting the door swing shut hard.
Dean laughed underneath Cas, hands sliding down to his ass. “He’s going to think we screw all day like animals,” Dean murmured, looking up into Cas’ eyes.
“But we do,” Cas said, frowning.
“Yeah, but we don’t need him knowing that,” Dean said, sliding his hands into Cas’ stupid dress pants.
“Fine,” Cas said, half shrugging. Apparently done with the conversation, he went back to kissing Dean, grinding his hips down and searching for friction.
Dean thought that whoever said married sex was boring was lying.