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Art by the amazing and talented sketchydean
Dean felt sick to his stomach.
The bowtie felt too tight, the whole tuxedo felt too constricting. He wasn’t sure how he was still able to breathe. Yet, he knew that he’d only had the final fitting the day before, so there was nothing wrong with the suit. All of the symptoms were just in his head, apart from the clamminess of his hands. That was real.
It was nothing to do with any of his duties as best man. He had all of that under control. The ring was in his jacket pocket, the speech written and tucked away neatly for later. None of these things bothered Dean at all. No, his symptoms were specifically due to the other groomsman; Sam’s best friend, Gabriel’s brother and Dean’s ex: Castiel Novak.
Cas was the love of his life and Dean knew that with every fibre of his being. He could barely even remember why they’d broken up, just that they kept arguing all the time and then one day he came home to find Castiel packing his bags. Of course, Dean’s reaction was less than mature and after a long look at Castiel, he’d told him to leave the key on the counter, before heading out to the nearest bar to get wasted. Once the hangover had cleared, Dean had bitterly regretted not stopping Cas from leaving. He should have gotten on his knees, promised to change, promised to stop the fighting. But he was too stubborn to do it and each time he came home to his empty apartment, he was reminded that Cas hadn’t exactly fought for them either.
They hadn’t seen each other since. It had only been around four months, enough for the sight of Castiel to still be sore. Dean wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it and Sam had just announced that Cas would be there in a few minutes. Enough time for Dean to work himself up into a full scale panic.
What if Cas ignored him? Wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t talk to him? What if Dean tried to speak to him and Cas acted like he wasn’t there? Maybe he should be the one doing the ignoring? After all, Cas was the one who’d left him.
The door pushed open, and Dean’s breath was taken away the sight of familiar dark hair, uncertain blue eyes sweeping around the room, landing on him for just a moment. Of course, Cas looked away as he properly entered the room. Dean stared as if he’d never seen Castiel before, as if he’d forgotten how amazing he looked in a suit.
“Sam,” Cas greeted softly, walking up to hug him and beaming widely. “Gabriel has worked himself up into a full scale panic. Swears blind you’re going to leave him at the altar. We might want to, ah, get this show on the road before he gives himself an aneurysm.”
Dean looked on with a pang of jealousy, forcing himself to turn back to the mirror and yanking off the bow tie. It didn’t feel right. No matter how he tied it, he felt like he was choking.
“Hello, Dean.”
He froze, not having realised Sam and Cas had finished their conversation already, let alone suspecting that Castiel would come and talk to him.
“Hey, Cas,” he replied softly, catching his eye in the mirror as his fingers fumbled clumsily with his bow tie. “Gabe excited to get hitched, then?”
Castiel was quiet for a moment, just watching Dean, before nodding. “Yes, quite. He keeps telling anyone who’s listening he’s going to be Mr. Gabriel Moosequatch. Our aunt Naomi was horrified until I reminded her that Sam’s last name is actually Winchester.”
Dean laughed at that, feeling the tension ease from his shoulder as he turned to face Cas, still struggling to redo his bow tie. “I’m surprised Naomi even came. Doesn’t she hate your entire side of the family? Probably here to drink herself to death on free booze. At least, I hope so.”
“Dean!” Castiel chastised, but he couldn’t quite hide his smile as he reached out to take the bow tie from Dean, doing it up for him in seconds. Something painful hit Dean in the stomach as he realised it was perfect, not choking him anymore.
He didn’t know what else to say so silence fell between them, awkward and uncomfortable, neither of them able to look at each other anymore. “Yeah, well, like you said, let’s get this show on the road.” Dean muttered eventually, escaping quickly to go and get his brother.
The service was beautiful. Dean shed a tear, but he would deny all knowledge if anyone ever called him out on it. He was just proud to see his little brother finally get hitched to the man he loved, seeing the utter joy on his face. Not even standing next to Cas for the entire service was enough to ruin his happiness at Sam settling down at last. He just kept his eyes fixed on the happy couple, stepping forward with his ring when it was his turn, and watching as Castiel stepped forward with his.
He spent as much time as he could avoiding being in the same room as Castiel. During the meal, they were seated on opposite sides of Sam and Gabriel, so thankfully they didn’t need to interact much. Dean wasn’t sure what he would even say if they did talk. He just knew that Sam’s wedding wasn’t the place he wanted to have it out with Cas, so he would just keep his distance.
The reception was stifling. All of the adoring couples surrounding him made it difficult to bear. To top it all off, the champagne was too fizzy and the beer wasn’t strong enough to drown his sorrows, so he disappeared into the coatroom to find his hip flask. He’d come ready prepared, knowing exactly how well he’d handle being around Cas. The door opened behind him, and Dean didn’t need to turn around to know who had followed him.
“This isn’t the time or the place, Cas,” he straightened up, his hand on his flask, but he didn’t turn around.
“Maybe not,” Castiel agreed, stepping up behind Dean and tentatively laying a hand on his shoulder. “But I’m pretty sure if we don’t talk now, we won’t get another chance. We’re both stubborn as hell, Dean. If we leave here without clearing the air, neither of us will call each other to do it.”
Dean had to concede the point, unscrewing the flask and taking a large gulp, holding it out to Castiel after a moment, and pocketing it at the refusal. “I don’t see what else there is to say, Cas.” His voice sounded defeated, even to him. “I don’t know what you want.”
“Honestly? I just want to go home.”
The words were almost a whisper, and if there was any part of Dean’s heart that hadn’t broken when Castiel left him, it shattered at the knowledge that Cas was leaving him again.
“I’ll call you a cab, then,” he muttered, reaching for his phone.
Castiel’s hand stopped him, the other hand reaching up to cup Dean’s cheek. God, Dean hated himself for the way he leaned into it, but he couldn’t do anything else. He closed his eyes, a tear slipping down his cheek at Castiel’s closeness.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean I want to go home with you. I want to move back in, Dean. I want us to be together, like we’re supposed to be. I screwed up, I know I did. I know I broke your heart when you saw my suitcase.”
Dean wanted to deny it, but he knew that he wouldn’t fool either of them with his lies. Cas knew him better than anyone, knew him inside out and down to his very core. His lip trembled, and he opened his eyes again to stare at Castiel, his gaze hopeful and wary all at once.
“Why?” He whispered. He just needed to know what it was that had made their relationship so bad – bad enough that Cas had wanted out.
Castiel sniffled, wiping his eyes before he answered. “We were falling apart. Both of us working late and arguing. We hadn’t had sex in weeks. Then I kept asking myself if you even wanted me to stay. So I packed my suitcase. I let you catch me in the hopes it would do something. That it would scare us both into realising how bad things had gotten, or that you would try to stop me from leaving. But…”
He trailed off, but Dean knew what came next. He knew how he’d reacted, what he’d said, that he’d left to go and get drunk. Instead of trying to salvage their relationship, he’d chosen to deal with things that way.
“I’m sorry, Cas,” he murmured, ducking his head out of shame. “You deserve way better than me. I never wanted you to go.”
Castiel stepped closer, his face only a few inches from Dean’s as he guided his chin up. “Then let me come home.”
In a swift movement, Dean had his arms around Castiel, face buried in his neck. There were a million different things he wanted to say, all running through his head at once. Most of them were sappy and ridiculous, and Dean couldn’t bring himself to say them. “Yes,” he said instead. “Yes.”
He held onto Cas desperately, feeling hot breath fan out against his ear. Nothing else mattered except how right this felt, how warm and safe it was in Castiel’s embrace. Dean should never have let him go and he knew he would never make that mistake again.
Distantly, outside the coatroom, he heard the music change to a slow ballad, and then Castiel was pulling away, instead stretching out his hand in invitation.
“Can I have this dance?” Cas smiled.
Dean looked around them in amusement, gesturing to the numerous jackets surrounding them. “We’re in an oversized closet.”
“So?” Castiel’s grin only grew at Dean’s words.
It was impossible to argue with that, so with a gentle smile, Dean reached out to take Castiel in his arms, swaying slowly in time to the music. As a rule, he didn’t dance, but he would make an exception for Cas.
He’d do anything for Cas, because he had him back now, and he would never let him go again.