Since Pangi is in Brighton for a couple more days... they should go thrift shopping at some point and get some accessories. Ya know, its tradition or something. Maybe spot a silver scaled ring that's just his size in one of the shops. Someone could get him it as a gift, a silly congratulations for being basically British.
And its nothing too bulky or distracting, but he ends up playing with it. Twisting it on occasion when hes thinking and/or spaced out. He won't say anything about it either, even when its brought up in chat, preferring to not address it. Its his keepsake.
And when it does get to the point where he has to talk about it he'll be nonchalant about it saying he got it while in Brighton, but theres a ghost of a smile after his explanation. Perhaps a familiar name pops up in chat out of coincidence, teases him about his new fidget toy, and how they almost match.
In short, this is me asking the universe for Pangi to get a silver ring or maybe two. He has multiple fingers... It would certainly be a topic if he goes on any irl podcasts. It would definitely be a topic with his friends. Its great content. That would be his angle.
When Cas comes back, Dean is frozen. When Cas meets Dean’s eyes across the room, Dean stops breathing, sure that he has somehow slipped sideways into death or maybe a nightmare.
“Dean,” whispers Cas, voice rough and quiet.
“Are you real?” Dean whimpers.
“Dean,” says Cas, louder. He takes two steps towards Dean, now only an arm’s length away.
“Cas,” sighs Dean, “please be real.”
“I’m real,” Cas says, stepping next to Dean.
Dean’s hands are shaking as he reaches for Cas, his hands settling against his broad chest. “Cas.”
Cas’ hand comes up slowly and cups Dean’s cheek. “I’m here Dean.”
All at once the frozen shell shatters and tears pour down Dean’s cheeks as he clutches at Cas, his hands buried in the lapels of the trench coat, his face tucked into Cas’ neck.
“I’m here,” Cas repeats over and over, his own arms holding Dean tightly, his hands splayed across Dean’s back.
Dean shifts around until his arms are around Cas too. He sobs, unable to do more than just hang on. They ride this storm together, both gripping each other tightly, both crying their loss and pain and relief and love. Dean feels himself unmade and remade in this embrace. As their tears taper off, Dean takes a shaky breath reveling in the scent of wings and ozone that is Cas. “I missed you,” he whispered.
“I missed you too.”
They pull apart enough to look each other in the eye and both start smiling. “Before anything else can pull you away, I love you Cas.”
“I know.” Cas gives Dean an exaggerated wink.
Dean bursts out laughing, holding Cas close once again. Cas’ silent laughter puffs air down the collar of Dean’s shirt. Dean had been so lost and broken without Cas. But now he was here, in his arms, making dumb Star Wars references and just so alive.
“I love you too, Dean. In case that wasn’t clear.”
“No I got it buddy.” They loosen their embrace so they can look at each other again. Dean knows his own expression has to look at least as hungry as Cas’ does. He wants and there is nothing that will stop him from having if he has anything to say about it. “Cas, will you marry me?”
“Of course Dean.” Cas kisses Dean on the cheek.
“You sure? I’m kind of an asshole.” Dean presses small kisses into Cas cheek in a haphazard path towards his mouth.
“Mmmm. But you’re my asshole.” Cas meets Dean’s lips with his own, the two of them exchanging lazy kisses. “Do you mind if I’m not an angel anymore?”
“Angel, human, whatever. Just want you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” More languid kisses. “I have a ring for you though.”
“A wedding ring?”
“Engagement ring.”
“When did you get it?”
“After Dodge City.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“Didn’t know how. And everything kept getting worse and I didn’t know how to fix anything.” Dean stares at the floor. Every time he’d thought he should do it now, he hadn’t managed it and then kicked himself for missing his chance.
“I wish I had told you sooner too.”
“I knew Cas.”
“We both knew. But we both didn’t do anything about it.”
“Sometimes we’re really frigging stupid.”
Cas smiles at that. “I don’t mind.”
Dean grins back. “Let me get the ring. It’s in my dresser, just over there.”
“You have to stop holding me then.”
“Yeah I know. But I don’t wanna.”
“I promise I won’t disappear.”
Dean clutches at Cas again. He can’t let go, can’t trust this. Not yet. Cas holds Dean just as urgently. Their holds relax. Dean slides his hand from Cas’ shoulder down to his hand, interlacing their fingers. With a tug and a half smile, he pulls Cas over to the dresser. It’s a little difficult to find the little box in the drawer one-handed, but he feels better like this. Not letting go of Cas’ hand, Dean crouches down, one knee on the floor. He stares up into Cas’ smiling face. “Castiel, Angel of Thursday, My Sunshine, My Sweetheart. Will you marry me?”
“Yes I will marry you, Dean Winchester.”
Dean uses their joined hands to hold the box as he opens the lid with his free hand. The band is silver with one emerald chip and one sapphire chip inset into the band. Impatiently he pulls the ring from the box and slips the ring onto Cas’ finger. With more effort than he’d admit he stands up, creaking knees protesting.
Cas’ eyes were lit up and filled with happy tears. Taking Dean’s hands in each of his, he kisses Dean insistent and relentless. Dean is flying inside, the old him undone and unraveled and spun into something newer and freer in Cas’ arms. There are millions of questions to resolve as they carve out some new life for themselves, millions of decisions to make, compromises to find, arguments to defuse. But they will do it all together. Dean will get what he wants, and so will Cas.
