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Cas was aware of the significance of the day. They'd exchanged murmured sweetnesses and a couple of dry, perfunctory pecks on the lips about it that morning, before Dean had muttered “errands and crap” and headed out. That had seemed the extent of the effort they would make to mark the occasion, and Cas was fine with that. After more than a decade as a human, he still took his social cues from his husband. If Dean didn't see a need to make a big deal out of the anniversary of his proposal, then no big deal would be made.
He didn't pay much attention when Dean returned shortly after noon and immediately disappeared again, saying something about his car. Dean spent endless hours working on Baby, swapping in replacement parts he'd bought online or detailing her to a dazzling shine. Cas had simply waved as he'd walked past, then carried on with his own project. He was close to perfecting a flap and gusset heel, something he hoped would give the socks he knitted for his family a better fit in the arch. The practice was pleasant and absorbing, and he gave little thought to the passage of the hours.
As evening neared, though, Cas began to want his dinner. A quick check of the garage produced no Dean, and no sign that anyone had been working in there recently. As he was pulling his phone out of his back pocket to send a “where r u <3” message, Dean came up behind him.
“Hey babe, you lookin' for me?” he asked in a voice gone breathy with exertion.
“Yes, I was wondering about food.” Cas peered at his husband. “You seem flushed. Were you just... running?”
The color on Dean's cheeks intensified. “Yeah, I, uh... Wanted to grab you before you made yourself a PB&J or something. Dinner's this way, c'mon.” He hooked a couple fingers into one of Cas's belt loops and tugged him towards the stairs that led out of the Bunker.
Cas was confused, to say the least. “Dinner is outside?” Dean was inordinately fond of his kitchen, and took great pleasure in serving meals to his family there.
“Yeah, got something special set up for you. Look.” They'd passed through the front door and around the corner of the building to the meadow that stretched behind their home. It was normally a wild, lovely place of knee-high grass and wildflowers, but today he could see that it had been tamed, and transformed.
“Oh, Dean,” Cas sighed, stunned by what his husband had done for him.
The grass had been cut, left shorter but still soft, and a room-sized space had been cleared. White fairy lights were strung on poles around the edges of the area, and more strings of lights crisscrossed above it. A rough-hewn picnic table stood in the center of the clearing, covered with a white tablecloth and loaded down with a bountiful harvest of dishes and bowls of food. To the side a wooden porch swing, heaped with throw pillows and colorful blankets and suspended from a sturdy steel frame, swayed in the breeze.
In the far corner of the lot he could see some sort of... stand? There was a folding table and two chairs, a couple of small objects on the table, and some sort of sign rigged above the whole thing that hung from the lights above. The sun was more than halfway below the horizon now, though, and the light was dimming to dusk. From where they stood the contents of the table, and the writing on the sign, were unclear.
“What...? What is all this?”
He looked to Dean for an explanation, and his husband bashfully provided.
“Well, it's our anniversary. The night I proposed. I wanted to take you back, you know, to the fair. But they're not holding it this year because of, ugh, everything, so I had to bring the fair to you!” He grinned and gestured at the table. “Food! I made corn dogs, lemonade, fried pickles, kettle corn, funnel cakes, steak sandwiches, I even made candy apples!” He turned to the swing and pointed. “Rides! It won't go as high as the pirate boat, but we're getting' a little old for that much excitement anyway. Aaaannnd...” Taking Cas's hand, Dean pulled him to the far corner. “Games!”
Cas could read the sign now: KISSING BOOTH. The objects on the table were a pair of small plush toys – a teddy bear, and a fat bumblebee.
“Best kisser wins a prize...” Dean purred into his ear.
“There are two prizes here, and two of us.”
“I happen to know we're both really good at kissing.”
“Fair enough.” Cas leaned in for a little practice. “You're right. We are exceptionally skilled at this game. Let's play it all night.”