Work Text:
Sam and Jess' wedding is held in California where they're both attending Stanford. Dean ribs at his brother all the way up until the week of for "going native" and having a wedding on the opposite side of the US from where all his friends and family actually live. But in the end he and Cas, along with John, Mary, and several other close friends and family, agree to make the trip out to California for the nuptials.
It's about a 28 hour drive from their apartment to Sam's, but when Dean comes home one day to find Castiel searching for cheap flights for the both of them, Dean adamantly closes the laptop mid-search and informs Castiel they're driving.
"Dean, we could get there in a matter of hours rather than days if we just flew," Castiel protests, "you'll have that much more time with your brother."
Dean shakes his head and begins pulling things out of the fridge to make himself a sandwich. "Not flying, Cas. You know how I feel about it. I want to make it to California alive."
"Your reckless driving would suggest otherwise," Castiel mutters in response. After that he falls silent and Dean thinks he's won the argument until he's settling in next to Castiel on the couch, sandwich on a plate in one hand, beer in the other, and glancing at the computer screen. Castiel has pulled the search back up and has a few more windows open with possible flight arrangements.
"Dammit, Cas," Dean growls around a particularly large bite of his sandwich, "I said no."
Castiel doesn't even bother to glance Dean's way as he dryly states, "Oh, I apologize, Dean. I forgot your word is law around here." He makes a couple of clicks on the computer and then turns to look at Dean. "This flight is the same as your parents'," he states gesturing towards the computer screen with a small smirk on his face, "you could sit next to your mother so she could hold your hand."
"Hey, asshole," Dean says after swallowing a swig of beer, "no means no. You buy me a ticket it's going to go to waste. I'm driving. That's it. You can drive with me or not. I don't care."
Blue locks on green and they stare each other down for a good few minutes before Castiel finally concedes. "Fine," He snaps as he reaches across the couch and yanks the partially eaten sandwich out of Dean's hand, taking a bite and glaring at Dean as he chews, "Consider this your solidarity offering for my compromise."
Dean throws his head back and laughs.
The week of Sam and Jess' wedding they pack up the Impala and set out for California in the late afternoon.
Castiel bitches at Dean about the music he plays and complains about how his butt is falling asleep, but Dean takes it all in stride, his baby eating up asphalt as they cruise along in the waning sun, the scenery blurring out their windows in a satisfaction that settles deep in Dean's soul. Not much makes him feel alive and content like being behind the wheel of the Impala with hundreds of miles in front of him to conquer.
When they stop for gas and to stretch their legs in Nowheresville, USA Dean looks over at Castiel and shakes his head at his boyfriend's squinty eyed scowl as he stretches his back and swats angrily at bugs that fly near his face.
"You gonna be like this the whole time?" Dean asks as he slots the nozzle into the Impala and starts the pump.
"Considering the fact that we could be there by now," Castiel grumbles, "yes."
Dean locks the handle of the nozzle into place and walks around the Impala. He pushes Castiel up against the side of the car and brushes his nose against Castiel's before closing his mouth over the other man's.
"You should try to relax," he says when they pull apart, "sleep, enjoy the view. Whatever."
"What view?" Castiel asks petulantly, "It's been nothing but fields for hours."
"C'mon, baby," Dean mutters against Castiel's lips, "don't be a grump monster."
Castiel sighs and slides his hands up Dean's chest before wrapping them around Dean's neck. Dean takes the contact as an open invitation and puts his hands up the back of Castiel's t-shirt, lightly scraping his nails along the other man's skin and kissing at the underside of Castiel's jaw.
"Dean," Castiel gasps when Dean starts to suck vigorously at a more sensitive spot near his throat, "we're-"
"In the middle of nowhere?" Dean murmurs into Castiel's ear, "What, you afraid of what those cows over there are going to think of you, Cas?"
Castiel's only response is to let out a sigh as Dean's hands slide down his back and move to cup his ass, kneading at it through his denim. He presses his forehead against Dean's collarbone and goes pliant beneath Dean's touch. They stand like that, just this side of inappropriate, but with no one around to offend , until the gas pump clicks signaling the Impala's tank is full.
Dean gives Castiel's butt one last squeeze, drops a kiss in the other man's hair and then moves to pull the nozzle out of the car.
"I'm going to use the restroom," Castiel says behind him.
Dean nods, "Right behind you," he says with a wave of his fingers over his head.
Before going in to the gas station Dean digs through their bags until he finds Cas' sketchbook and bag of charcoal sticks tucked away in one of his suit cases and drops them onto Castiel's seat on his way in. When they're both back out at the car, Castiel looks down at his sketchbook and then at Dean over the top of the Impala.
"Thank you," he says, his eyes light and grateful.
Dean nods, "Thought it would help," he answers easily and then the two of them climb back into the car and set out on the road once more.
Once they hit California there is much to be done. There's a lunch the first afternoon (which Dean spends most of with Jess' four-year-old niece, Ellie, on his lap while she prattles on about being a princess and how much Dean looks like her favorite Disney princess, Rapunzel), a practice dinner, Sam's bachelor party, and excessive amounts of running around that Dean did not anticipate when he agreed to be Sam's best man. By the time the night before the wedding rolls around Dean and Castiel fall into bed in an exhausted huff, barley having the energy to strip off their clothes before doing so.
"So much for a vacation," Dean mutters around the sleep already creeping into his senses. His eyelids are heavy and sliding shut and he's too tired to keep them open, but his body doesn't relax until Castiel rolls over next to him and drapes an arm around Dean's middle.
"I want to see the beach," Castiel states around a yawn. His scruff is soft as it rubs along Dean's skin with the opening and closing of his mouth and Dean shivers underneath the touch.
"I'll take you to the beach, baby," Dean promises sluggishly.
Castiel hums in response and the last thing Dean hears is a quiet, "Good night, Dean," muttered against the back of his neck. After that he's slipping into a welcomed darkness and not waking up until morning.
The morning of Sam's wedding it takes them longer than technically necessary to get out of the hotel room. It's all Dean's fault and he'll willingly admit it to anyone, but as soon as he sees Castiel dressed in his tailored, black suit and slim, blue tie, all Dean wants to do is spend a good couple of hours getting him back out of it.
He chances a few minutes before they walk out the door to crowd Castiel up against the wall and slide his hands beneath his boyfriend's suit jacket, running them along the soft fabric of Castiel's white dress shirt. "You look good," he mutters in Castiel's ear as his hands travel down to squeeze at the swell of the other man's ass, "really, fucking good."
"Hands where I can see them, Winchester," Castiel growls even though his breath had hitched mere seconds before, but Dean backs off anyway, hands rising in the air until their held to either side of his ears.
"Yeah, yeah," he says.
Castiel gives him a satisfied nod and then Dean is leading the way out of the hotel room and attempting to get his libido in check as they make their way down the hall. As they load themselves onto an elevator Dean begins to turn his thoughts to Sam's big day. His arousal over Castiel's Sunday best is just beginning to fade when the doors slide shut and Castiel grabs onto Dean's tie and pulls Dean against himself, crashing their lips together and licking his way into Dean's mouth.
Castiel's hands are all over Dean, on his chest, his hips, his ass, and then the elevator dings and Castiel pulls away just as the doors slide open. Without giving Dean a backward glance the other man strolls off the elevator leaving Dean, tie crooked and clothes a little rumpled, to gape after him.
"What the hell was that?" Dean asks when he's caught up to Cas, "Not that I'm complaining, but dude. What was all that bullshit about 'hands where I can see them?'"
Castiel simply shrugs a shoulder, "You look really, fucking good too." He says and all Dean can do is shake his head.
The wedding is a somewhat small event, but extremely classy all the same. It's held in the same chapel Jess's parents said their own vows in and the whole places is done up in elegant bouquets of peach and cream roses and satiny draperies.
The only time Dean leaves Sam's side before the ceremony is when little Ellie finds him in the foyer and tells him she can't find her mom. He walks her into the chapel, smiling to himself when her tiny four-year-old hand comes to wrap possessively around a couple of his fingers, and scans the guests until he spots Ellie's mother. Once Ellis is tucked safely between her mother and brother, Dean makes his way back to Sam.
They wait together quietly, their shoulders brushing companionably every now and then and Dean watches with a smile as Sam checks over his suit to make sure he looks his best. When Sam is told it's time for him to take his place he glances at Dean with a look that makes Dean afraid the guy is going to puke up everything he's ever eaten. It's the one and only time Dean's seen Sam look nervous all day and suddenly there's so much pride swelling in his chest over his baby brother and the life he's leading Dean's afraid he'll burst. He clasps a shaky hand on Sam's shoulder and gives it a squeeze and Sam nods at him in understanding and then makes his way down the aisle.
Dean watches him go, unable to wipe the wide grin off his face.
When Dean is finally standing at the front of the chapel his eyes find Castiel's and he sends his boyfriend a wink. Cas smiles back small and warm, his blue eyes accented by the vibrant blue of his tie and the warm golden sunlight pouring in from the windows and Dean's heart skips a beat. This day may not be about him, but he still feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have Castiel in his life.
When the wedding march begins everyone's attention is drawn to the back of the chapel where Jess is standing with her father. She looks stunning in the simple cream gown she's wearing and as she starts down the aisle the radiance of her smile is matched only by Sam's.
Dean's eyes blur over with tears as he watches Sam watch Jess walk down the aisle, but he scrubs a hand over them quickly in a blatant refusal to let them fall. When he chances another glance at Castiel, the other man is holding up a tissue with a smirk on his face and if Dean weren't standing in front of a bunch of people with his brother's bride walking down the aisle, Dean would have flipped him the bird. Instead he shoots Cas a look and turns his attention back to the bride and groom.
The ceremony is tastefully simple and after vows have been exchanged and Sam and Jess have officially been declared Mr. and Mrs. Winchester Dean joins his parents and Cas in the first wooden pew and watches with them as Sam and Jess leave the chapel together. It's touching and all sorts of sentimental and when Dean feels Castiel's hand slip into his own he gives it a squeeze, feeling a little sentimental himself.
The reception is held shortly after the wedding and so Dean doesn't get the time he'd like to repay Castiel for the elevator incident. Instead they head for the reception hall to make sure everything is in place for when the happy couple arrives and before they know it, the reception is in full swing.
Since there's a staff at the reception hall that's available to take care of anything Sam and Jess could possibly need, Dean is able to spend most of the night in close proximity to Castiel.
Cas convinces Dean to have a couple of flutes of champagne with him (and when Castiel goes for another Dean tells his boyfriend, "I'm keeping an eye on you, babe."), they spend a few minutes stealing kisses in the completely cheesy, but totally awesome photo booth, and after a couple of dances with his mom Dean approaches the table he and Castiel have been hoarding all night and tugs his boyfriend to his feet.
"Come dance with me," Dean requests.
"Dean, you know I don't dance."
"C'mon, Cas, just one song."
Although his fingers are still clasped in Dean's own Castiel stands his ground, not moving from the table. Dean tugs again, making his eyes as wide and pleading as they'll go, and Castiel heaves a sigh and finally follows Dean out onto the dance floor.
As Jefferson Starship's Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now fills the room Dean wraps a hand around Castiel's waist and curls his free hand around one of Castiel's. It takes a few seconds for the other man to relax, but when he does Dean begins to sway them to the music, singing the words to the song softly in Cas' ear and pushing them ever closer together with a steadying hand at the small of Castiel's back.
As they move in a small circle around the dance floor Castiel seems distracted, more so than usual, and so in an attempt to ground the other man, Dean angles his head down until his forehead is resting on Castiel's and fixes their gazes together. Castiel 's face is blurry and Dean can only see one eye at a time, but it makes Cas smile and that's what's important.
"Hey," Dean says quietly.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean pushes at the small of Castiel's back until any space between their hips is gone. "I'm glad you're here," he says.
Castiel presses forward, fitting their lips together briefly before replying, "Me too."
When the song ends Dean begins to follow Castiel back to their table, shaking his head as he watches his boyfriend pull yet another glass of champagne off a passing waiter's tray, but he's stopped by a determined tug on his suit jacket. He turns to find little Ellie Moore staring up at him with wide, blue eyes that remind him of Cas'.
"Mr. Dean?" she asks, "Will you dance with me?"
Her hopeful expression tugs at his heart and he feels himself nod before he's even fully processed the request. "Absolutely," he tells her quickly and she beams up at him with a smile that makes him feel warm inside.
Ellie leads Dean out onto the dance floor and looks down at their feet before looking back up at Dean, a silent question in her eyes.
"It's okay, kid," Dean says, "they're not as fancy as they look. It won't hurt them to get dirty." He helps her climb up on his shoes and then Save the Last Dance for Me begins to play and Dean is swinging Ellie around the dance floor, her delighted giggles filling all the empty spaces in the room and making Dean feel like the most important person of the night.
About half way through the song Ellie gets tired of standing and so Dean picks her up and swings her around some more with one arm tucked securely underneath her bottom and one of her small hands nestled in Dean's own.
It's then Dean notices Castiel and Mary are dancing together now and he smiles to himself and shakes his head as he slows to a gentle rock with Ellie and watches his mom guide a somewhat stiff Castiel around the dance floor.
"Mr. Dean," Ellie says and Dean turns his attention back to her with eyebrows raised.
"Yeah, Ell."
"Is he your prince?" Ellie asks, her eyes trailing over to where Castiel and Mary are dancing. Dean follows her gaze and then looks back to her with a smile on his face.
"He sure is." Dean confirms and then asks, "Is that okay with you?"
Ellie looks contemplative for a moment or two before nodding her approval, "Yes," she says, "he looks like a prince."
Dean chuckles gently, "You're right, Ell, he does."
At the end of the night, when most of the guests have left and Sam and Jess are preparing to leave themselves, Dean finds himself being pushed into the abandoned photo booth by a very tipsy, very eager Castiel.
"You didn't keep an eye on me Winchesser," Castiel slurs as he pushes Dean on to the bench, "Now'm drunk." The photo booth is small to begin with and downright cramped with two fully grown men now inside, but Castiel climbs atop Dean's lap anyway and settles himself there as the camera snaps a picture of them.
"I thought you could be a good boy on your own," Dean states as Castiel wraps his arms around Dean's back and pulls them until they're flush up against one another.
Castiel shakes his head, "'Pparently not. I really like champagne."
"Yeah I gathered," Dean says. He slips his hands beneath Castiel's suit jacket and fits his hands to the other man's ribs. Castiel leans in and kisses Dean messy and open-mouthed and the camera snaps again.
Dean pulls away to scowl at the lens, but then Castiel is grabbing Dean's chin between his fingers, his other hand leaving Dean's neck to press against the wall behind them, and guiding Dean's mouth back to his own. When Castiel's tongue plunges into his mouth, Dean forgets about the camera.
Their kisses grow deeper, messier, and after a few minutes Castiel is tugging on Dean's lower lip with his teeth and grating out a low, "Dean."
"You wanna get out of here?" Dean asks when Castiel moves to suck kisses against his neck. He feels Castiel nod against him.
Dean pushes at the other man until Castiel gets the hint and climbs off of Dean's lap. When they exit the photo booth hand in hand and both looking a little more mussed than when they when they first went in a small crowd is gathering at the front doors to send Sam and Jess off. Dean tugs Castiel over to the doors and he finds John and Mary standing close to the front where a car is waiting to take Sam and Jess to their hotel for the night.
Within a few minutes the newlyweds are exiting the building, wide smiles on both their faces, and a happy lilt to their step. When they pass by the Winchesters and Castiel, Dean pulls his brother into a tight hug.
"I'm so proud of you, Sammy," he mutters against his brother's shoulder.
Sam squeezes him a little tighter, "Thanks for being here, Dean," he replies and then the two of them are stepping away from each other and Dean is pulling Jess in for a hug of her own.
When Sam and Jess have said their goodbye's to everyone they climb into their car. As Dean watches them drive away a small smile climbs to his face. It's going to be weird, having his brother a married man now, but seeing how happy he and Jess make one another Dean knows it will be a good weird.
As the tail lights of Sam and Jess' car move out of sight, Castiel is there next to Dean, his lips finding Dean's ear.
"I'd like to leave now, Dean," Castiel mutters, his voice pitching so low it sends a thread of arousal racing through Dean's system. Castiel moves Dean's hand to cup the growing bulge in Castiel's dress pants and that sets Dean into action.
"Yep," he says, "leaving now."
They say their goodbyes to John and Mary and then Dean is leading Castiel out to the Impala in a way that can only be described as eager.
On the way back to the hotel Castiel slides across the seat and sucks dark marks into Dean's neck and mutters incoherently about how much he wants Dean inside of him right now. Dean wonders, as he almost runs a red light, just how much champagne Castiel actually drank when Dean wasn't paying attention.
Luckily it's not too long of a drive back and once they arrive at the hotel Dean parks the Impala with as much grace as an elephant on stilts and guides Castiel into the nearest elevator. When they find themselves alone Dean pulls Castiel against him, Cas' back to his chest, and nuzzles at Castiel's neck while his hands rub along Castiel's sides underneath his suit jacket.
Castiel hums appreciatively as the elevator carries them to their floor.
When they're finally outside their bedroom door Castiel is tugging at Dean's clothes impatiently and pressing himself against Dean's back as Dean slots the key into the lock and shoves their door open. He has just enough time to haphazardly throw the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the handle before the door is slamming shut behind them and Castiel is pinning him against the wall and attacking him with his mouth.
"Dean," Castiel breathes against Dean's mouth as he grabs at Dean's tie and pushes at his jacket. His voice is low and gravely, needy in a way Castiel often gets when he's had too much alcohol.
"Yeah sweetheart," Dean pants back, "I've got you." He lets his suit coat slide off his shoulders and to the ground and helps Castiel do the same and then their lips find each other again as they push and pull one another to the bed.
Castiel topples onto it first, pulling Dean down on top of him and cupping either side of his face in his hands. Dean surges down to kiss him, grinding their cocks together and dragging from Castiel a delicious moan that Dean swallows as he closes his mouth over the other man's.
It takes them a good few minutes to get each other mostly undressed, Castiel drunk and fumbly and Dean's brain clouded over with an arousal so thick it's almost incapacitating, but soon enough Dean is scrambling through their bags for the lube he knows is somewhere in their belongings and Castiel is shimmying out of his underwear and sliding his tie out of his shirt collar.
Dean approaches the bed a few moments later, lube in hand and eyes scanning Castiel's half naked body as he lays himself out on the bed for Dean, tugging his shirt tails up until they rest high on his belly, giving Dean a perfect view of how hard Castiel is.
Castiel lets out a soft sound of pleasure as he closes his eyes and rubs his hands down along his stomach and onto his thighs, dancing around his cock that curves towards his stomach, a bead of pre-come clinging to the tip.
Dean makes quick work of unbuttoning his own dress shirt and tossing it aside and then he's settling himself between Castiel's legs and reaching for the buttons on Castiel's stark, white shirt.
"Okay, baby," Dean murmurs, his breathing growing ragged just from the sight of Castiel nearly touching himself, "let's get you naked."
Castiel bats Dean's hand away almost immediately though, "I'll take care of that," he huffs, "you take careuv this," and he wiggles his hips demandingly.
"So bossy," Dean grumbles, but he stops working buttons out of their holes and reaches for the lube instead. As Castiel undoes his shirt Dean slicks up a few of his fingers and then he's mouthing between Castiel's legs and smirking when the other man sucks in a sharp gasp.
As he slides the flat of his tongue up the vein that runs along the underside of Cas' length he circles a finger around Castiel's entrance and waits for his boyfriend to relax before he slides it in and begins to work him open.
By the time Dean's working three fingers in and out of Castiel the other man has gotten as far as unbuttoning his shirt, but seems to have abandoned completing his task in exchange for groaning out obscenities in Dean's direction and running the heel of his hand along his own arousal.
Dean pulls his fingers out and stumbles out of his underwear, kicking them off in a rush to get back to Castiel, and slicks himself up. He grabs a couple of pillows and slides them underneath Castiel's hips and then he's settling himself in place between Castiel's legs and pushing inside of him.
When he slides home, brushing against Castiel's prostate, Cas' eyes fly open and he chokes out a brazen, "Oh, fuck."
Dean chuckles, "Wanted to make sure you were still with me," he jokes.
As he begins to thrust into Cas' heat Dean bends and kisses any bare stretch of skin he can find. Castiel's not completely naked, his dress shirt still on, but hanging open to reveal his stomach and chest and Dean gets a small thrill out of the fact that Castiel was so gone he couldn't even be bothered to take it the rest of the way off.
As Dean works them both to climax, Castiel's legs coming to wrap around Dean's waist as he thrusts into the other man in languid, deep thrusts, he can't help but marvel at how beautiful Castiel looks like this, pupils blown wide with want, lips parted around his labored breathing. It stirs an awe inside of Dean that has him bending to cover Castiel's mouth with his own and kissing him until neither of them can breathe.
When Dean begins to feel that familiar tingle at his spine and the warmth of a building orgasm low in his belly his thrusts become more shallow and erratic. His thighs are beginning to burn, his hips hitting Castiel's ass as he thrusts, and he slides his palms against Castiel's, curling his fingers around the other man's to ground himself.
"'M close, Dean," Castiel grates out as Dean leans in and bites at his lips.
"I know, sweetheart," Dean breathes, "me too."
It's after only a few more well calculated thrusts that Dean empties his release inside of Castiel. He drops his forehead to Castiel's chest as he breathes through the pleasure, squeezing Castiel's hands and reveling in the feel of Castiel clenching around him when he spills just seconds later.
They lay there breathing each other's air, hands still clasped, for a good several minutes before Dean moves to rub his nose along Castiel's jaw.
"You good?" he asks.
"Mmmmmmm," Castiel responds sluggishly.
"We should shower," Dean points out when he realizes Castiel's mess between them is growing tacky and cool.
"In a minute," Cas murmurs.
"Okay," Dean agrees, "In a minute."
The shower is warm and inviting when the two of them finally step underneath the spray, both wobbly legged, and still chasing that floating feeling one gets after a particularly good orgasm. Dean pushes Castiel into the water first, watching as the water trickles down his back in long, fluid streams, but after a second Castiel turns and pulls Dean into his arms, slotting his mouth over Dean's.
When they break apart Dean begins to kiss along Castiel's throat and jaw and when his nose is pressed against the other man's temple, Castiel mutters a quiet, "Dean."
"Yeah, babe," Dean replies as Castiel places his hands on either side of Dean's face and brings their gazes together.
"Let's get married," Castiel says. His eyes are bright despite the thick steam building around them and even in the slight glaze that's settled over them from one too many glasses of champagne, Dean still gets lost in their depths.
Castiel is smiling up at him all lazy and lopsided now and not knowing what else to do, and being completely caught off guard, Dean offers his boyfriend a small chuckle and bends to meld their lips together once more.
"Okay," he says.
Castiel's grin grows wider. "Okay," he repeats.
After they've washed up and each of them have pulled on clean underwear Castiel drops himself onto the bed, face down, and on top of the covers. Dean goes about the room throwing their discarded clothes all into one pile and flicking lights off as he goes. When he finally climbs into bed Castiel is already out, snoring softly into the pillow he's buried his face in. Dean shakes his head with a smile and climbs onto the bed next to Castiel.
It takes some work to get them both under the covers, Castiel grumbling at him when Dean makes him move, but then Castiel is curling an arm around Dean and pulling him until Dean's head rests on Cas' shoulder. As sleep begins to ascend on Dean's brain he throws an arm over Castiel's chest and inhales the soft scent of soap and shampoo clinging to Castiel's skin. It's soothing and familiar and between one moment and the next, Dean is asleep.
When Dean awakes the next morning and Castiel's sort-of proposal creeps back into his brain he feels anything but okay about it. He wonders to himself, as he lays there listening to the other man's steady breathing, if Castiel meant what he said or if he was just drunk and riding the high of Sam and Jess' nuptials, or still lost in the euphoric haze of orgasm.
He wonders if Castiel will even remember.
As he dwells on the previous night something heavy settles inside of Dean, something that he's afraid he can't work through and so instead of nudging Castiel awake and asking if he wants to join him for another shower Dean climbs out of bed quietly and pads towards the bathroom alone.
Where he'd hoped his thoughts would unravel themselves under the hot spray of water now pounding against his back and shoulders, things become more complicated, more real than they were even just seconds ago and Dean cuts his shower short because that's where Castiel practically proposed to him with glazed over eyes and a drunken, lopsided grin on his face and not knowing what it all meant Dean finds he can't be in there any longer.
He wraps a towel around himself and retreats to the room, the air hitting him cold and sudden in the chest without the warmth of steam that had gathered in the bathroom. He approaches the sink and squirts a hearty helping of toothpaste on his toothbrush in an attempt to scrub out the foul taste in his mouth, both from the alcohol he'd consumed the night before, as well as the memory of Castiel dangling a future in front of Dean's face that he now isn't sure Castiel actually wants outside of intoxication and a blissfully satisfying post-orgasmic high.
As he leans to spit, warm arms close around his waist and he feels Castiel push his forehead between Dean's shoulder blades.
"Morning," Castiel mumbles.
Dean stiffens marginally and rests his hands on either side of the sink, staring down at the drain that's swallowing the toothpaste he just rinsed out of his mouth. He hadn't even heard Castiel getting out of bed.
"Morning, Cas," Dean finally says, moving to rinse his toothbrush and flicking off the water. All the questions that have been building in the last hour clamber to the tip of his tongue and almost spill out, but Dean isn't even sure how to properly express what it is he wants to know and so he turns and presses a kiss to Castiel's lips and then leaves to get dressed.
An hour or so later Castiel has pulled himself together enough to be able to stand without staring at the floor like if he takes one step he's going to vomit, and is showered and dressed for the day and so they decide it's finally time to use what little is left of their vacation and relax.
They find themselves on a quiet stretch of beach, donned in t-shirts and shorts, staring out at the gray waves as they crash against the shoreline, foamy remains clinging to the wet sand left in their wake.
They've been mostly quiet all morning, Dean too stuck inside his own thoughts, and Castiel seemingly picking up on Dean's bout of discomfort, and even sitting next to Castiel now with the swell and dip of waves before them Dean's still not sure what to say.
After several more beats of silence between them, Castiel sighs. "Are you upset with me?" he asks quietly, his gaze trained on the horizon in front of them.
A little bit of the irritation Dean's been feeling ebbs out with Castiel's question. It sounds so sincere and apologetic that Dean realizes Castiel does know what's going on, but probably isn't sure how to approach the situation either.
Dean sighs himself and fists his hair in his hands, resting his arms on his knees and staring down at the grains of sand beneath him. "I'm not upset," he answers honestly, "just-." He looks up and is met with Castiel's wide, inquisitive stare.
Dean shakes his head, "Doesn't matter," he finally says, "we can just forget about it, okay? Pretend it never happened."
Castiel makes an offended sound in the back of his throat and then he's pushing Dean down into the sand and climbing between Dean's legs. He drapes himself over Dean's body, crossing his arms over Dean's sternum and resting his chin on them and stares at Dean with impossibly blue eyes that dull the sky, and the ocean, and everything in-between.
"I asked you to marry me last night, Dean," Castiel starts, "and I'm not going to just forget about it. Is that really what you want? To pretend it never happened?" he asks.
As much as Dean doesn't want to talk about it, it's something that needs to be discussed, he knows that. Reluctantly he shakes his head and prepares himself to hear Castiel out.
"I apologize that I was drunk," Castiel continues, "I wasn't thinking clearly in the sense that you may not have taken me seriously in my state at the time. But, Dean, I meant what I said."
Dean's brain grinds to a halt and he focuses completely on Cas' face.
"But you were drunk," Dean sputters, not knowing what else to say.
Castiel sighs and shakes his head. He rolls himself up onto one arm and digs around in his pocket with the other, Dean letting out an, "Oof," when Castiel's elbow digs painfully into his ribs.
Castiel's hand comes back with a small black box that he flicks open faster than Dean can register what's happening and sets it on Dean's chest, settling himself back into his previous position.
Dean stares at the simple titanium band nestled in black velvet, his brain now working over time.
"Dean, I've had that ring for three months," Castiel mutters, the quiet rumble of his voice getting lost in the rhythmic pulse of the ocean and the cry of gulls around them. "I intended on giving it to you in a setting more like this than the one we unfortunately experienced last night, but I lost myself in the moment and-"
Dean stares past the ring at Castiel now drinking in every word the other man is saying.
Castiel's eyes are soft, genuine, more open and vulnerable than Dean can remember ever seeing them and he feels the tension he's been carrying around with him since this morning begin to fade, "I know it won't change much about the way we'll live our lives; we already live together, I assume neither of us will change our last names for business purposes, the marriage won't even legally be recognized in more than a handful of states, ours not even being one of them, but I want to do it anyway. I want to be your husband, Dean, I want to get married."
When Castiel finally stops talking Dean can't help the little grin that breaks out across his face. "You know you're pretty damn redundant when you're trying to be sentimental," he states lightly.
Castiel huffs at him with a roll of his eyes and then moves to close his mouth over Dean's.
This kiss is void of the hindering doubt that had clouded Dean's thoughts and feelings even just moments before and he kisses Castiel back with all of himself, conveying with his lips, and his tongue, and hands forgiveness and acceptance.
When they pull apart Castiel smiles at Dean, small and goofy.
"So we really doin' this thing, Cas?" Dean asks, threading his fingers through the hair at the base of Castiel's skull.
Castiel nods, "We're doing this thing."
Dean smiles, wide and carefree, "Alright," he says, "baby, let's get married!"
EPILOGUE (for this chapter).
Several weeks after Sam and Jess' wedding an envelope comes in the mail addressed to Dean and Castiel from Sam and Jess. Dean brings it in with him when he gets home from school and he and Castiel open it together.
Inside is the strip of photos that was taken in the photo booth at Sam and Jess' wedding after Castiel had had too much alcohol.
Dean laughs and shakes his head when Castiel's cheeks stain with color upon seeing himself astride Dean's lap, kissing him soundly in a couple and sucking at Dean's neck in the others.
Along with the photos is a single piece of paper that reads, GLAD YOU GUYS HAD FUN AT THE WEDDING. -SAM & JESS.
"Well," Dean says as he hangs the photos on the fridge, "now everyone knows what a horny drunk my fiancé is."
Castiel scowls at the comment more deeply than he scowled at the photos, but Dean just laughs and pulls him in for a kiss.