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Cas came back on a Tuesday.
Dean remembered, because, like any Tuesday since that Tuesday freaky time-loop, Sam was more on edge than usual. Dean, as for him, was even surprised he managed to pick up on his brother's uneasiness.
These were bad times. Cas was- Cas was gone, and Dean was… He was a mess. A real big mess. No big, bad evil scheme to distract him from the gaping, bleeding, and throbbing hole in his chest this time. Just him, and his good old dad-inherited drinking habit.
And then, this fateful Tuesday, he appeared. Jack. His boy. Their boy.
With his fluffy hair and his bright smile.
Dean felt his hangover disappear into thin air just by looking at the kid.
Then his brain processed the other person standing by him.
White noise.
The hole in his chest throbbed painfully.
Once. Twice.
Dean was on his feet. Running, tripping.
Reaching out fiercely.
Grasping.
And tugging. Violently.
He let himself be moved, his brain supplied, and a wave of tenderness and deep, oh-so-deep love overwhelmed his brain again.
Here he was. Warm and solid against Dean. Against Dean’s chest. Dean’s gaping chest hole felt like a black hole, trying to absorb as much as possible, to fill the hollow shell Dean had been. To fill and replace this horrible void with all the warmth and comfort of home.
Of just finally holding Cas, alive, against him.
Dean sobbed. Uncontrollably. He was shaking so hard, his hands holding a death grip on the trench coat, hyperventilating in the crook of Cas’s neck. Overwhelmed by the bare idea that he was allowed to breathe in this otherworldly rain smell one more time. Through the deafening white noise of his brain, he perceived a small touch. Arms. Wrapping around him. Holding him tight. Tighter. Almost painfully. Dean had never felt safer in his entire life.
Sobs doubled, he sniffled ungracefully, his mouth stuttering Cas’s name over and over, as if wanting to anchor him to this world, this time for good. A low hum echoed his litany. Dean’s heart swelled. The low sounds were reverberating through his ribcage, bones and entire body. The same sound, again and again.
Dean.
Dean’s heart felt like it was about to burst.
Dean’s mouth closed shut, to listen to this sweet melody. This soothing call. This warm, honey-gravel voice calling his name. Again and again. Dean’s hands gripped tighter and held Cas even closer, taking him all in.
He was finally home.
* * *
Movie night it was. It couldn’t be otherwise. Just Cas and him. Sam protested, at first, but Dean glared. Once. The big moose shut up and invited Jack for a burger at a nice diner near the bunker.
They had spent the entire day together, the four of them, updating each other, sharing hugs, soft words, “missed you”s, and alot of happy tears. It turned out the kid gave up his Holy power pretty soon after getting Cas out. Some deal with Amara or something. Dean didn’t really pay attention. Partly because he hadn’t had a good night of sleep in ages, and partly because he was too busy staring at Cas. Relearning every inch of his face, engraving them into his memory, never to forget any of them again.
Cas was back. His best friend was back. And Dean would never let him go again.
Dean spent the entire day joined at the hip with Cas. Always touching him, holding his hand, or laying a hand on a shoulder, a hip, his face, his hair, his knee during a meal… Sam called it a PTSD response. Dean didn’t care about the name. He wouldn’t let go of Cas ever again. Same went for Cas, who was constantly reaching out for him as well.
They ordered food for lunch, after Dean’s unsuccessful attempt at cooking with Cas wrapped around him like an octopus. Sam banned them from the kitchen when they triggered the fire alarm for the third time in a row. Dean had rolled his eyes, but Cas ushered him to wait for the food delivery in the library. Cas added that it would be a good opportunity to look at books he wanted to read to Dean. Dean complied.
Sam proceeded to spend the entire afternoon with Jack, going on a stroll, from what Dean vaguely understood. As for Dean, he intended at first to chat with Cas, on one of the sofas in the library, but ended up falling asleep on Cas. The absolute angel he was was stroking his head in such a soothing way… Dean hadn’t slept that good in ages.
When he woke up, Cas greeted him with a smile so full of love, Dean choked in terror at the idea of this all being just a dream. Then Cas kissed his forehead and Dean’s heart stopped for a solid three seconds, then completely melted in his chest. It was okay. They were okay. Cas was safe. Dean nuzzled closer on Cas’s lap. They talked for a few more hours like that, before Sam and Jack came back, with food for dinner.
After dinner, Sam got Jack to bed, “God or not God anymore, you are still four, so bedtime!”, and then came back to the kitchen to bid them good night. Dean wasn’t sleepy anymore, after his long nap on his angel in the library, and Cas didn’t currently need to sleep apparently. So they logically decided to do a movie night.
* * *
On the big flat-screen, Obi Wan was screaming after a petulant Anakin. Cas's small laugh reverberated through Dean’s body, and disturbed the butterflies already flying in his stomach. Dean wasn’t paying much attention to the movie; he’d watched it so many times already. And Cas’s face was so much more interesting. They hadn’t had the opportunity to watch Star Wars’s prequel trilogy together yet, and Dean was drinking in Cas’s every reaction.
For some reason, it seemed really important that Cas enjoyed the movie. And his time with Dean in general. They wasted so much time fighting, arguing, and hurting each other. Faith – or rather Jack – gave them a last God-sent (ha!) chance to “fix it”, as Rowena would put it. Dean wasn’t gonna waste it. He intended to spend every second of his time with Cas, doing his best to make up for years of bad treatment, neglect, and emotional abuse. Dean really wondered how the guy could even love him through that…
Dean’s lips curved into a soft smile, as he followed every detail of Cas’s face. Illuminated by the fluctuating light of the movie, the angel’s face seemed in turn serious, sharp, then soft. But always so calm and happy. And relaxed. So relaxed. He never saw the guy this carefree and laid-back. Dean wanted to caress this perfect face, touch this stubble-covered cheek, follow the tiny crow’s feet, get his hands through this always messy hair. Just take it all in, and never let it go. Store as much information about Cas as he could.
He realized he barely knew the guy. After twelve years of friendship, never did Dean ask his best friend about his favorite food or movie? Or heck, even his favorite color or animal, like in these weird online quizzes Claire kept sending him. Dean felt so ashamed all of sudden. It felt like an icy wave swallowing him up whole, and clenching around his freshly revived heart. There were so many things he wanted to know about Cas. So many things he wanted to try… Did the guy ever go to the zoo? To the aquarium? Hell, to the park, even? Dean knew there was a time Cas could fly instantly to any place he wanted, but this Cas probably didn’t even want to. He was so strict and soldier-like in the early days. Then he chose Dean over Heaven, and progressively lost everything for this stupid, insignificant, unworthy, tiny human.
Dean blinked the tears away. He needed to focus on the positive side. As it said in Sam’s stupid self-development videos Dean insisted he never watched. The past was in the past; Dean had to focus on what he could do now to make it right. To make it up to Cas.
The angel, still laser-focused on the movie, let out a loud laugh. Dean’s heart sang with joy. Cas laughed… Perhaps the movie was a good start. Wrapped up against Dean, Dean’s arm around his shoulders, watching a movie with a soft blanket on their laps, Cas looked good. He looked happy. Dean’s smile grew wider, and the fuzzy warm feeling in his chest too.
* * *
Movie nights became a habit. Every night since Cas’s and Jack’s return, Dean and Cas isolated themselves in the Dean Cave, while Sam was spending time with Jack. Teaching him how to code programs on the computer, or giving him book recommendations, or showing him new knitting patterns. They seemed to have a lot to geek about together, knowing the apocalypse was averted for good. It made Dean incredibly happy. Cas also seemed really happy to see them get along so well.
Sam and Jack were currently in a deep conversation about the dwarf lore from The Hobbit. Jack's eyes were shining as Sam showed him illustrations and complicated graphs and glyphs in the beat-up book of The Hobbit Dean stole for him from a local library, when they were kids. Dean made a mental note to buy them the entire Tolkien book series for next Christmas. Next to Dean, Cas was literally radiant, his face glowing with happiness and pride for his son. Dean squeezed Cas’s hand, feeling so happy he was surprised his heart wasn’t bursting. Cas’s face turned to him, and his eyes grew unbelievably softer, as they always did when he was watching Dean. It made Dean want to kiss him so bad.
They hadn’t kissed or anything. It would have been weird to kiss just like this, out of the blue, with Sam and Jack nearby. Dean thought so, at least. Well, Cas was his best friend. To be fair, Cas was his lot of things. His (way) better half, his anchor, his guardian angel, his soulmate in a way, his brother in arms, his… Yeah. His best friend. Dean couldn’t find a better suited term. Sure, the classical definition barely covered one percent of the depth of his “profound bound” with the angel, but it was the term he was comfortable with. Then again, you didn’t kiss your best friend just like this.
That’s why he responded to Cas’s soft smile with a soft smile of his own, and, his hand still in Cas’s, dragged him to the Dean Cave.
* * *
They were (re)watching Tombstone when Dean first heard it. Well, he heard the term many times before, but it didn’t click. Except this time. He was cuddling – he finally came to term with this word – with Cas on the Dean’s Cave sofa, a soft, blue blanket around them, and the movie was playing. Cas’s arm was wrapped around Dean’s waist, his hand sneaked under Dean’s plaid shirt, tracing abstract patterns on his T-shirt. It tickled a bit, but Dean didn’t mind. Dean was resting his head on Cas’s chest, enjoying the feeling of the old well-worn AC/DC shirt he gave Cas, along with a few other items of Dean’s clothes Cas claimed for him. The angel did look awesome in regular jeans and a T-shirt. “Hot” could even apply. But Dean wasn’t ready to unpack that particular box in his mind yet.
Instead, he snuggled closer to Cas and, for once, was paying a bit of attention to the movie. Then he heard it.
“Partner.”
It clicked.
That’s what Cas was to him.
His partner.
Partner in crime, partner in life…
That was it!
Dean raised his head to look at Cas. The angel turned his face in his direction.
“Yes, Dean?”
Dean gulped. His face was getting hotter as he rolled the question on his tongue. His mouth was getting dryer. He cleared his throat, his eyes not quitting Cas’s.
“Cas… Will you-”
His voice cracked. Dean laughed nervously.
“God, I’m such a wimp.”
“No, you’re not. But please, continue.”
Dean laughed harder.
“Damn, Cas, you’re perfect…” The angel blushed. “Yeah, so, I was saying… Cas. Will you take me as your partner?”
Cas’s eyes widened, surprised.
“I- I am not sure how you mean it, Dean.”
Dean rubbed his neck. He could feel his blush spreading to his neck and ears.
“This is so embarrassing, man. I mean, like, do you see yourself with me. For… for life, I guess? Just, like we already are, but. Like, more official?”
And then…
Cas blushed. An honest to God blush.
The urge to kiss him crashed back, stronger than anything before. Dean bit his lips, nervous.
Cas’s eyes darted between Dean’s. He gulped and licked his lips.
“Y-Yes. Yes, Dean. I do.”
Dean was smiling so hard it hurt.
“Good… That would have been so embarrassing otherwise.”
He chuckled. His chuckle died in his throat as a hand came up, cupping his cheek. His eyes came back to Cas. The angel was looking at him with a soft but impatient hunger. His thumb stroked Dean’s cheekbone.
“Now, may I?”
Dean gulped, and his hand fidgeted a bit with Cas’s (formerly Dean’s) T-shirt. He licked his lips and chuckled nervously.
“Yeah. Yeah, Cas, you may.”
Cas brought their lips together. And it was good. It felt so right. Cas’s soft chapped lips brushing and pressing against his. His large hand pressing lovingly against his cheek as Cas’s whole body turned to meet Dean’s. Dean’s arms came up, circling Cas’s broad back and shoulders, and he whimpered and shivered when Cas softly nipped at his bottom lip. The soft hum Cas produced in response sent shivers through Dean’s entire body.
The kiss got deeper, and Dean was light-headed, barely acknowledging the fact that he ended up sprawled across the cushions on the sofa, on his back, with a whole angel weighing deliciously on him, kissing him senseless.
Dean’s hand wandered under Cas’s T-shirt and felt the angel shivering. Cas broke the kiss to dot his jaw with tiny kisses, then slid down to his neck. Dean let out a long moan when Cas bit him gently where his shoulder met his neck. His mind blissfully quiet, only filled with Cas, Cas’s hands, Cas’s mouth, Cas’s heavy body, Cas’s everything.
* * *
Two days later, Dean was pacing around the bunker’s map table. His phone in hand, and he was refreshing his conversation with Cas every two seconds. Sam and Jack weren’t even home to distract him. Sam was taking the kid to a “stargazing night” in a nearby observatory, or something like that. Jack looked so excited. Dean was considering restoring the bunker’s big telescope, just so the kid could watch the stars whenever he wanted.
It was the first time since Cas’s return – almost two months ago – that Cas and Dean were spending more than ten minutes far from each other. But Cas insisted. Apparently, he had to run some errands, alone. Dean agreed, but couldn’t help being dead worried about it. Cas had been gone for about half an hour, and Dean already tried all the calming methods he knew. Not that he was watching Sam’s stupid videos. His big moose of a brother just managed to screw with Dean’s phone algorithm, and the videos popped on auto-play after his music, that’s it! Dean had already completed eight levels on Candy Crush (logged in with Cas’s account), bested his best score on Doodle Jump, and sent at least ten funny videos to Claire, which she replied to with “Stop spamming me with your old man videos, old man,” punctuated with a ton of not really nice looking emojis. So he stopped, and spammed Sam with stupid moose memes instead. With no answers, sadly. The kid must be busy with Jack.
Which left sad little old Dean with his pacing. He fished out a pair of earphones from his pockets. A pair of brand new wireless earphones Sam bought him (after having shamelessly stolen his pair) and, earbuds tucked in his ears, launched his favorite playlist of Led Zeppelin songs. Which may or may not match a certain mixtape he gave Cas years ago, and no one could prove anything.
The fourth song was coming to an end when the bunker’s door opened. Dean jumped out of his seat (he grew tired of pacing) and ran up the stairs. He didn’t even wait for Cas to close the door before swallowing him up into a tight hug.
“Missed you…” he mumbled, muffled in Cas’s trenchcoat.
A hand stroked his hair lovingly, followed by a kiss on the top of his head.
“I missed you too, dear.”
Dean finally let him go and walk back a few steps.
“So, what was this top secret mission for?”
Cas smiled softly. Dean wanted to kiss him. So he did.
Just a soft casual kiss, because he could. And it made Cas so incredibly happy.
Cas caressed his cheek.
“Let’s get to the kitchen first. I bought some groceries too.”
* * *
It was the fastest unpacking of groceries Dean had ever done. Cas laughed when Dean tossed the empty grocery bag away.
“Here, done! So?”
Cas gave him a tender kiss. The one that meant “You’re adorable, and I love you.”
“Please, have a seat.”
Dean rolled his eyes and tapped his foot a bit – not like a rabbit, thank you very much – but proceeded to sit on one of the kitchen chairs.
Cas fumbled in his pocket. Then stopped, and looked at him.
“I forgot! You must close your eyes, too!”
Dean complied with an annoyed, and impatient grunt.
The noise of fumbling in a pocket started again. A silence. Cas's fingers brushed his, startling Dean. His long, cold fingers caressed his left hand. Dean could feel himself blushing so hard.
He shivered when a cold object – metal? – circled the tip of his finger. His fourth finger. On his left hand. Dean bit his lips, and held back his tears, guessing what was happening as he felt what must be a ring sliding up on his ring finger.
Cas – the smooth bastard – even punctuated it with a gentle kiss on his knuckles.
“Here,” the angel’s voice was hoarse with emotion, “you can open your eyes.”
A few tears rolled down Dean’s face as he opened his eyes to see his angel, kneeling before him, Dean’s left hand in his hands. A gleaming, gold band around Dean’s ring finger.
“I love you,” blurted Dean.
A tear rolled down Cas’s cheek.
“I know.”
Dean laughed through his tears.
“Don’t just propose then Han Solo me, you dick!”
Cas laughed softly.
“Ok, I love you too.”
Dean grabbed his face and leaned in to kiss him fondly.
* * *
Turned out that Cas, the smooth fucker he was, had even bought himself a matching ring. Each ring, Cas would confess later, was engraved on the inside. Dean’s with “Good things do happen”, and Cas’s with “I need you”. Dean slid Cas’s ring on his finger the same day, during their movie night. Which movie they had been watching, Dean didn’t remember. What he did remember was how creative Cas could be with his remaining grace. And how flexible Dean could get with a little help.
* * *
The next morning – or rather beginning of afternoon – Cas and Dean finally got out of Dean’s (and Cas’s now) room to have a late breakfast with Sam and Jack. Jack told them very animatedly about the stargazing night. Cas listened with great attention, and told him random fun facts about the creation of the universe. Apparently Cas created nebulae and supernovae. Dean was beyond honored to be on the receiving end of the love of this adorable multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent. Sam gave him a teasing smile, and Dean flipped him off. With his left hand.
Sam froze. Then literally lit up.
He grabbed Dean’s left hand with both of his, and almost jumped over the kitchen table.
“Congratulations!!!!”
Dean blushed. “Shut up, bitch!”
“Awww…”
The commotion drew Cas’s and Jack’s attention. Jack's eyes went from Dean’s ring to Cas’s, and he frowned, confused.
“I thought you two have been married for years?”
Sam laughed so hard he fell out of his chair (maybe Dean helped a little in this matter), as Cas explained the complexity of their relationship (in a simplified kid-friendly way) to Jack.
* * *
Cas and Dean were trading lazy kisses on the couch, as the movie – Bee Movie, maybe? Dean had let Cas pick this time – was playing in the background. Cas smiled at him between two kisses, and Dean smiled back. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life like this, between kissing Cas, and enjoying movie nights.
FIN