Work Text:
“So I’ve been thinking,” Sam said as he slid Castiel’s breakfast plate under the phone his roommate was already hooked on. Castiel didn’t look up. “Marry me.”
Castiel dropped his phone right into his eggs, splashing hot sauce on his sweater. “I cannot have heard that right. What did you say?”
“I said ‘marry me.’” Sam didn’t bother hiding the glee at Castiel’s confusion. He couldn’t blame Cas for it; this was rather out of nowhere, although not really. “Before you reject me flat-out, let’s hear the objections, because I promise I’ve thought this through and I can probably guess most of them, so… since I asked anyway, I bet I have counters.”
Castiel shook his head. “Sam, you know I’m sex-repulsed aroace.”
“Yep. And I asked you to marry me, not fall in love with me or have sex with me. I know those things are usually linked to each other, but they don’t have to be, and we’re both grown-ass adults who can set our own rules about what our marriage looks like.” Sam tossed Castiel the hot sauce so that he could replace the splashed bits. “I know you are who you are and I would never ask you to change something like that for me, so it’s not like you’d be leading me on.”
“But you aren’t. Why would you trap yourself into this?”
Sam snorted. “Divorce is a thing, you know. I’m not trapped. Sure, it’d be annoying to go through, but if I ever meet someone who I want a more traditional marriage with, I can do that. I don’t expect to, not after all the bullshit Louis put me through.” Louis, or Lucifer as Castiel and Dean had taken to call him, was Sam’s ex-boyfriend. He was also in jail for attempted murder, animal abuse, stalking, false imprisonment, kidnapping, domestic violence, and several other charges related to the living Hell he’d made of Sam’s life for three years. “Meanwhile, you and I are right here, able to get along, I can let you see the scars and the wreckage I’ve managed to duct tape and safety pin together enough to function, look after you when your own demons are tormenting you, and the tax incentives and hospital visitation and all would be really friggin’ nice to have, don’t you think?”
“Sam…” Castiel stared hard at him. “This isn’t some sort of bullshit research for something you’re writing, is it? You haven’t written one too many fake dating plots leading to true love in the end that you’ve decided to see if it works in real life?”
“If I starting taking dating advice from my novels, I’m pretty sure Dean would have me committed before I could actually go through with anything,” Sam scoffed. “Besides, I told you. I know you are who you are. I would hate it if you changed that for me, even if I did have unrequited feelings for you. You’re my best friend. I’m happy and comfortable with you. My life would suck without you. I’m not in romantic love with you.”
“Then… why?” Castiel asked. “I refuse to believe it’s about tax breaks.”
“Well, the hospital visitation is a big thing,” Sam admitted. “Remember how pissed we both were when Lisa had to be hospitalized for COVID, and Dean wasn’t allowed to visit because they weren’t married? Even without a pandemic happening, hospitals get strict about people who aren’t family visiting, and I don’t want you being caught in a situation where Michael can get to you but Dean and I can’t. I’ve been thinking about this for months, Cas.”
Castiel let that digest. “So what brings it up now? My father’s death and me officially cutting ties with my brothers?”
Oh, if only. “I wish it were that easy, Cas, but no. Michael took the liberty of forwarding a copy of your father’s will for me to look over. He said it was so I could make sure that I didn’t want to try to fight anything in there, which I may have graduated law school but wills weren’t my thing and I never took the bar exam, and there’s no way I could beat something put together by the lawyers your dad would have had. I think he was just rubbing in that I’m a writer, not a lawyer, and won't see any of the money… you probably know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you.”
“The condition on the trust,” Castiel said. “Forty years old, which I am, advanced university degree, which my Ph.D. counts for, and married. Which I will never be, so I will never get control over my trust. It’s not like I need it. Father approved the money I took out to get my degrees, so I don’t have any student debt, and the job I have more than pays for the life I live with enough to set aside for retirement or emergencies.”
“True… but if you’re married, you get control of that money, and none of your brothers can do a damn thing about it. No borrowing it for their own lifestyles in the hopes that you won’t care because you don’t expect to have the money to use yourself. And if you can marry someone who knows what they’re getting into, who’s doing it on purpose for his own reasons, and who won’t ask you for anything that you don’t freely volunteer… we don’t have to combine finances, I don’t expect to get any of that trust, I don’t need it, we can still go on only sharing a bed when it’s really cold or we watched a scary movie or one of us is struggling with our scars or demons…”
Finally, Castiel started to smile. “What better fuck you could I give my asshole brothers? You have a point. You and Dean and any children the two of you had are my plans for who gets my stuff when I die, so why not formalize that with a marriage? It’s easier to explain than adult adoption, and saves us the paperwork of doing various individual rights and responsibilities to each other. Let’s do it.”