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Dean Winchester shuddered as the plane skidded on its landing.
He cursed at himself for still being scared of flying. Two tours in Afghanistan? Being shot at constantly by a bunch of baddies? No big. Flying on an airplane? He’d rather go back to the field of battle.
It was pouring when the plane pulled into the terminal. The rain smashed down across the pavement and clattered on the windows like dull bullets.
Dean’s legs jiggled all the way out into the lobby of Kansas City National Airport, his army duffel resting heavily over his shoulders. It felt strange to be back here. Nostalgia filled his lungs. This is the first time in two years that he’s step foot on American soil. And boy did it feel good.
There was just one thing missing. He wasn’t here. Dean couldn’t see him anywhere in the terminal seating. Filled with people and no a single person had the same dark hair and the
purest blue eyes he’d ever laid eyes on. There was no steel blue tie with a dirty trench coat waiting for him anywhere he could see.
Fumbling for his phone he reassured himself that Cas knew to pick him up at the right airport and sure enough Cas responded in true Cas form with “Of course.” So Dean knew that he had to be here somewhere. It would be very out of character for Cas to say that and not do anything.
He waited a few minutes and looked around before his phone chimed again.
Go outside, assbutt.
Dean chuckled and a huge face splitting grin grew on his cheeks. This throat clogged up as if he’d swallowed a frog and his lips trembled as a feeling of overwhelming joy surged through his bones. Unbeknownst to him, tears spilled over. He was going to see Cas. He was going to see Cas.
I’m waiting.
A hysterical laugh bubbled out of Dean at that and then he was shoving his phone into his pockets before you could even say funkytown.
Dean’s pretty sure that he gets strange looks as he barrels his way out of the airport, but Dean’s also pretty sure that he doesn’t give a shit. His legs ache as he pumps them forward toward the exit sign closest to the terminal he was at. They ached from long rested use but Dean doesn’t think he ran this fast even on the battlefield.
There were no bullets sputtering around him, no blasts of sand in his face. Now it was just a constant rant of Cas Cas Cas Cas Cas Cas Cas Cas Cas Cas Cas streaming through his head.
He skidded to a halt when he came to the door.
Cas was outside in the pouring rain. He wasn’t wearing his trench coat. The only layer he had on was a white collared shirt with a dark blue tie and his black slacks. Oh my god. He hasn’t changed at all and before Dean knows it, he’d running out the door, no giving a damn about the storm.
Cas does the same and they meet halfway. Arms circling around each other, clinging to each other for dear life. Dean’s arms clenched around Cas’ waist and pulled them together as tight as they could possibly go. God, even in the rain he still smells exactly the way Dean remembers. Like mint and earth. He buries his face into the crook in his neck and breathed in the scent until he could only smell him. He felt Cas do the same. They stood there breathing each other in and it wasn’t until they finally pulled away that Dean realized they were both crying.
Cas’s hands came up to his face and he ran his fingers over Dean’s face as if he was trying to capture it to memory. “You’re really here.” He says with a wobbly smile.
“I’m really here.” Dean touches their foreheads together and Cas sucks in a deep breath before pulling away slightly.
“Dean,” It’s been way too long since I’ve heard this in person. “There’s something I have to ask you.”
Dean’s stomach dropped. Was he going to be Dear Johned in person? Was that a thing? Was Cas going to break up with him because of this? He said before that its okay. As long as Dean came home. And he is home! He’s right here! He’s-
Dean’s heart skidded to a sudden stop as Cas took a deep breath, met his eyes, and began to get down on one knee.
“Ca-” He started.
“Dean Winchester, I have known you since I was eleven years old.” Cas stuttered through a trembling smile, “And for most of my life you have saved me from everything. Including myself.” He took a stabilizing breath and seemed to regain himself. Dean’s brain fumbled at comprehending if this was actually happening. “When you enlisted in high school I was sacred that you would never come back. But you did. Over and over again. You have saved my life and now you have been saving countless others. That is one of the things I love most about you.
“Over the years you have been there for me in no way that others have been. And over the last six years you have been something to me that I hope someone else will never be. I love you so much, Dean Winchester, and I want to keep loving you until we’re old and bony and grumpy. I want to live and die beside you. I want you to be with me for the rest of my life.”
“Cas..” Dean choked.
Cas’s eyes spilled with tears and his voice cracked as he asked, “So with that, would you, Dean Winchester, do me the honor of being your husband?” With shaking hands he pulled out a single black velvet box and pried it open.
Inside was a single silver ring with a green band around the center.
He presented it as rain bucketed down on him. The fabric of his shirt clung to him, soaked through to the bone. His blue eyes bright against the shadows of the storm.
As the tears cascaded down over his cheeks Dean couldn’t trust himself to speak. Instead he nodded vigorously and yanked Cas to his feet, bringing him into a surging kiss.
When Cas broke away and fitted the ring over that finger on his left hand, Dean Winchester never felt more at home.