Chapter Text
ONE YEAR LATER
Castiel Novak is sat at a desk on a Saturday morning. He’s not wearing his glasses today, because Jess told him he had to look impeccable for the photos, and his glasses look like some kind of Elvis Costello rip off, apparently. He is fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, straightening his tie and smoothing down his rampant hair to no avail.
If Jess is so hell bent on having her wedding photos absolutely perfect, her only choice is to not allow Castiel to be in them.
He looks up when the door swings open, and smiles automatically.
“Hello,” he greets.
“Hi there,” Dean says back, walking over to Cas and leaning down to kiss him. It starts off a small peck, becomes lingering and with a hint of tongue, and Castiel has to pull back, breathless and chuckling, so that they don’t end up having sex in the back room of a church.
Castiel’s all for adventurous sex, but he’s pretty sure that’s the kind of thing that gets you a one way ticket to sin city.
“How’s Sam doing?” Castiel asks.
Dean laughs. “Freaking the fuck out,” he answers. “Keeps going on and on about how she’s too good for him and she’s gonna realise it at the altar and run away with the ring bearer.”
Castiel frowns. “I sincerely doubt that Jess will do anything of the sort,” he says. “The ring bearer is her ninety year old grandfather.”
Dean barks out another laugh. “That is true,” he concedes, and then leans down again to kiss Castiel, not allowing Castiel to pull away this time for at least five minutes. “You look fucking hot, by the way. I’ve always loved you in a suit.”
“You too,” Castiel replies, biting at Dean’s jaw. “We don’t have time for sex somewhere less blasphemous, right?”
“No,” Dean replies sadly, tilting his head to allow Cas to pepper kisses to his neck. “Jess is gonna be here any minute. I have to get back to Sam soon, too. Make sure the little bitch doesn’t climb out of a window or something else dumb like that. I only came through to make sure you hadn’t gotten so frustrated with keeping your clothes straight you ripped ‘em off. Little upset that you haven’t, actually.”
Castiel grins, pressing one last kiss to Dean’s lips before standing up. “Later, honey,” he says with a wink. “But right now we have a couple to join together for the rest of eternity. You go find your brother and calm him down, no being a jerk like usual.” Dean opens his mouth to protest, and then shuts it when he realises he has no real argument. “I’m going to go take my seat. Good luck, best man.”
He moves past Dean then, receiving a smack to his ass and a low chuckle. He walks out into the church, takes a seat beside Jo and waits for everything to be in place. After a few minutes Sam and Dean walk out, Dean’s arm around Sam’s shoulders, him having to lean up to do so. Both Jo and Cas laugh slightly at that, and Dean obviously hears it because he turns around to scowl at them. Before he can do it for too long, though, the door opens and in walks Jess.
She looks absolutely beautiful, blond hair falling in curls around her face, smile lighting up the whole room. When Castiel glances back to Sam, he sees that all prior nervousness has melted off his face, replaced by pure, unadulterated joy. Castiel grins in response, because if there are two people who are meant to be for each other, it is definitely Sam and Jess.
Then, he catches Dean’s eye, smiles even wider, feels his chest flutter, and realises that maybe there’s four.
The wedding starts after that, the priest picking up the ceremony with passages of the bible and all that stuff that is inherent to weddings. Sam and Jess can barely tear their eyes away from one another, so wrapped up in themselves and their happiness. Occasionally, Castiel glances over to Dean and sees him rub at his eyes with the back of his hand, wiping away what Castiel presumes are tears.
And because Castiel is a good boyfriend, he decides not to mention it to him later.
Boyfriend, Castiel thinks again. He can actually call himself Dean’s boyfriend now. Can say it to anyone who asks, can say it anytime he wants, really, because everyone knows now and it’s not a dirty secret.
Sure, there’d been some backlash. There was bound to be. There were always going to be bigots out there, people who called them freaks of nature, abominations. But Dean hadn’t lost his job, hadn’t lost one of the most important things in the world to him. It’d been reasoned that Dean Winchester was the shit in soccer – mostly by Dean himself, but everyone agreed – and so any team willing to let him go just because of what he did in his personal life were the dumbest idiots going.
Castiel had even gotten to write his article. Except, instead of an insight into Dean Winchester, it’d turned into an exposition of all that Dean Winchester entailed. After Dean came out, numerous other sports stars did. In fact, Dean opened some kind floodgates: suddenly, there were people everywhere, from every sport and every nationality, saying that they no longer wanted to live lies, that they wanted to be proud of themselves and their partners, just like Dean was proving himself to be.
Castiel wrote an entire feature on homosexuality and its presentation within all forms of modern day media, using his newly acquired – and newly hated – fame that came with being Dean Winchester’s infamous boyfriend to gain more intel. He used interviews with Dean, his teammates, and everyone else that reached out to them during the time.
Both Dean and Castiel’s professional lives had remained intact – flourishing, even, for Castiel – but the same couldn’t exactly be said for the families.
Castiel’s were fine, naturally. The day after the revelation, when Dean had deemed it suitable to allow them to leave the bedroom, get something to eat and breathe in some air that didn’t smell like sweat and sex, he’d returned all the phone calls from the people he’d been ignoring.
First, there was Balthazar, and amidst the thanking Cas managed a slip in an oh, and go fuck yourself for going behind my back, too.
Then, there was every member of his family, having worked Castiel out to be the mystery someone due to the circumstances in which he left at eighteen. Luke congratulated him on tempting the all American hero into a life of sin, Anna squealed mostly incoherently, Gabriel left it at a well done, little cousin, that one’s hot, and Michael just gave a sullen why didn’t you tell me?
They all accepted it fairly easily, each one saying they had their suspicions, anyway, and that was it, Novaks told and everyone happy.
It wasn’t so easy with the eldest Winchester, though. No one has seen or spoken to John since, even now. They’d sent him an invite to the wedding with no reply, and the only reason they know he’s still alive is because he’s still cashing the cheques Dean sends him monthly to make sure he’s not dying on a kerb somewhere.
Castiel knows that Dean hates this, not seeing his father, his father actively hating him for going against his wishes, but also knows that Dean would rather have this life than the one he’d had before. He’d said it once, quietly mumbled into Castiel’s skin, and the only thing Castiel could think to do in response was kiss him slowly and deeply, make it so that he was smiling again.
The past year definitely hasn’t been easy, but it’s definitely been worth it.
It’s been worth it for the way Dean wakes him up with tea and smile, the way they’ve moved Castiel into Dean’s home so that they can be together, always. Dean admitted that living alone in such a big house, Dean had never felt like he had a home. Castiel said the same thing about his apartment, and they’d agreed that with the both of them sharing a kitchen, a couch, a bed, everything is warmer and more colourful: they both have a home.
Castiel snaps back to attention when Sam and Jess exchange rings, both smiling widely with tears brimming their eyes. They say all the necessary words and then, like no time has passed at all, the priest is announcing them man and wife, telling Sam he may now kiss the bride.
Which Sam does. Very enthusiastically. In fact, it goes on for so long that people begin to catcall from the seats, Jo in particular, and they only pull away when Dean lays a hand on Sam’s shoulder and bodily removes him from Jess’ lips.
They pull away, smiling, blushing, so fucking happy as they stare at one another in wonder, and then the music begins again and they make their way out of the church, people congregating outside to throw confetti at them. Castiel is still stood with Jo, having becoming increasingly close to her over the past year, and just after Sam and Jess climb into the wedding car to take them to the reception, Cas feels an arm curl around his hips.
“They’re perfect for each other, aren’t they,” Dean states, chin on Castiel’s shoulder and mouth by his ear.
Castiel turns slightly to brush their lips together. “Yes, they are,” he replies, and he smiles, wide and happy as he thinks we are, too.
Everyone makes their way to the reception then, held at the Californian Hilton Hotel, because Dean insisted on paying for the entire wedding, honeymoon included. Dean and Cas take the Impala, holding hands over the gearstick as they make their way over there, all set to get drunk and tease Jess that there’s no getting out of this now.
First comes the cocktail hour, where Castiel finds Balthazar to talk to. He’d been invited to the reception after becoming close to Sam, joining forces in their conspiring to get Cas and Dean together properly. After that, everyone is seated, and Sam and Jess come in, taking their place at the high table, where Dean, Cas, and Jess’ parents are already seated. Then there’s the dinner. Elaborate food in small portions, including more things with names Castiel can’t pronounce than he thinks he’s ever seen before in one place. At one point, Dean leans over to him and promises that they can run by White Castle on the way home to pick up some burgers, and Castiel’s response is to kiss him, hard.
Dinner is followed by speeches and Dean’s one as best man is so perfect that there’s not a single dry eye in the room. When he’s finished Sam hugs him, and then Jess does, and Castiel curls a hand around his thigh and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.
“That was lovely,” Castiel tells him.
“Yeah, well, I’m awesome,” he replies, but his narcissism is slightly ruined by the flush that colours his cheeks and the glassiness of his eyes.
Sam and Jess have their first dance as a married couple next, both gangly and uncoordinated as they move around the dance floor, murmuring and laughing to one another, looking happier in this moment than Castiel thinks he’s ever seen them before. They dance to Edward Sharpe, and Cas has never heard this song before, but something within it resonates within him.
About halfway through the song, other couples are invited to join the dance. Castiel is perfectly content to just sit and watch, because he is not a natural dancer and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself, but then Dean stands up, extends a hand and smiles down at Cas. Castiel doesn’t even consider saying no, so he stands up and takes Dean’s hand, allows himself to be taken onto the dance floor, have two arms wrapped around his waist and wrapping his own around Dean’s shoulders in return. He buries his face into Dean’s neck, noses at his jaw and presses absent kisses there, oblivious to everything but the song circling them and feeling safe and secure in Dean’s arms.
“Hey,” Dean mutters, loud enough to be heard over the song but quiet enough that it’s only the two of them listening. “Nice wedding, huh?”
Castiel nods. “Beautiful. They’re so happy.”
“They are.” A pause, and then murmured, low and quiet, “We are, too.”
“Of course, we are,” Cas replies, lifting his head, looking Dean in the eye and seeing a secret hidden in the corner of his irises.
He leans forward to kiss Dean softly, like a promise. They remain that way for a while, pressing soft kisses to one another’s lips, moving gently along with the music, swaying with the rest of the crowd but feeling entirely separate from it, too.
Then Dean says something into the indent of Castiel’s lips.
“Marry me.”
Castiel pulls back, eyes wide. “What?”
“Marry me,” Dean says again, smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I love you so much, Cas, and I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you now that I can. So – so how about marrying me?”
“I –” Castiel begins. He looks into Dean’s eyes, specks of gold amongst the green, close enough to see every freckle that dusts Dean’s face, the one he counted all those months ago when they had the time and came up with 73 flecks of beauty. Castiel doesn’t even have to think. “Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
Dean’s smile is blinding, and then they’re kissing, no longer moving to the music, too wrapped up in each other to care that they’re essentially just making out on the middle of the dance floor. After a minute, or maybe twenty, who even knows, the song’s changed by now but who knows what’s passed during the time Castiel spent exploring Dean’s mouth with his tongue, smiling so hard it felt like his jaw would break, they pull away from one another.
Sam and Jess dance by them, smiling at one another and acting basically the same as Dean and Cas – as though nothing else exists. They don’t tell anyone that night, allowing Sam and Jess to have their wedding, intent on calling them the next day, telling them on their honeymoon.
But that doesn’t mean they don’t share secret smiles, lingering kisses. Once, even, Dean leans over to him and whispers, “I’ve got a ring, by the way. Back home.” Castiel spends the rest of the night with his ring finger twitching, anxious to feel the weight of a gold band on it already.
It doesn’t matter that no one knows just yet; they’ll announce it in the morning. Anyway, they’ve got all the time in the world to be each other’s.