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Sam and Dean Winchester realized that they eventually had to leave their domestic cocoon and face the Hunter community. But the soulmates wouldn’t have to travel far to ensure that Heaven, Hell, and everyone in-between Knew.
They enlisted Rufus Turner and Bobby Singer, who had the honor of triggering what would become a gossip tsunami, expanding exponentially among Hunters, Adepts, and friendly entities, as well as "in-the-know" civilians and Talismen*.
[*Talismen: People who know about things that go bump in the night and offer, overtly and sometimes secretly, support for the Hunter community. Saved Dean and Sam more than once, particularly when they were kids. See the Talismen series.]
Sam figured, between the Hunter Grapevine and Angel Radio, that the interested inhabitants of the Seven Planes of Existence would learn the news within a few weeks. (Actually took less than 24 hours.)
"Did you hear? The Winchesters did the deed–what I suspected for years. And sealed it in Colorado with matching silver rings, inscribed in Enochian. Powerful stuff, man. Tied a knot and a bow around the soul bond.
"Yeah, you heard it from me first," said ten, then a hundred, then a thousand gossips.
As part of their staged coming out, the newlyweds decided to wait a few days before making the rounds of a half dozen Hunter-friendly bars huddled on crossroads off of Interstates 70 and 80. All within an easy drive of Lebanon. Just to test the waters, so to speak.
They rehearsed Dean’s polite responses to impolite questions. Sam explained to Dean, more than once, the consequences if he disemboweled anyone for asking “Which one of youse is the girl?”
To underline his warnings, Sam gave Dean a graphic novel version of Lysistrata and bookmarked the pertinent pages. [See End Notes] Dean got the message, but his work-around was classic Overprotective Big Brother.
He would smile in acknowledgement at whatever slimy remark passed as Hunter Humor, letting the nervous laughter from the bystanders wash over him without comment. And then, find the right time to slip away from Sam.
The raucous mob of roadhouse denizens would part as if commanded by Moses' Staff.
Crowding the miscreant from behind, Dean would whisper.
"You will never see me coming."
Very satisfying. Rather than a one-off beating, a lifetime of looking over their shoulder. Nice.
In truth, the mated Winchesters were greeted by a disconcertingly uniform response, as if the entire Hunter world secretly had rehearsed in concert: one-finger waves from casual acquaintances, congratulatory handshakes by friends from previous hunts, and hugs from good buddies, allowing for a private “I knew. It's all good.”
One brave soul, meaning very drunk, asked to kiss the bride and, without waiting for an answer, stood tiptoe to leave a sodden buss on a bewildered Sam’s cheek. Dean shoved the dude into a table of cheering co-eds from Kansas State who were celebrating Spring Break.
All in all, not so bad.