Summary: Dean asks why Cas stayed with him in the Endverse. Fluff ensues.
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“Why did you stay?” Dean can’t help but ask, vulnerable in Cas’s arms as Cas strokes his hair. Cas’s nose is buried in Dean’s neck on the couch, their bodies pressed tightly together without regard to the rule to ‘make room for Chuck’ as Sam so elegantly put it upon walking in on them hours ago.
“I assume you have a specific moment in mind?” Cas mumbles, kissing Dean’s forehead, before nuzzling even closer to Dean, cocooning him in the safety of warmth and friendship. But he wanted more. Maybe Cas did, too?
“When I was sent to the future, you were still there. You knew that it was me, well, past me, and you seemed so...close with future me. But you weren’t happy. Not really, I don’t think. Dude, you were high as a kite and screwing anyone within five feet of you with your dojo crap and yet when you looked at future me it seemed…” Dean stopped, unable to finish. This was stupid. “Forget it, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, I think this is important for you to know if you brought it up, Dean,” Cas whispers, seeming to think for a second while he starts to run his free hand up and down Dean’s arm, causing him to shiver and relax even further into a puddle of goo in Cas’s arms. Sam will never know, he just thinks that him and Cas were cold. Logic. Simple as that. Two bros chilling naked on a couch under a blanket. Casually kissing and touching and loving each other. As friends, of course.
Dean waits for Cas to speak for so long that he almost falls asleep, feeling so safe for the first time in years, probably since before his mom had died, and he has his best friend to thank for this newfound calm in his life.
Finally, Cas speaks again.
“I believe that future me would have had to try harder to forget.”
Castiel raises his eyebrow in slow motion and Dean chuckles. "Okay, okay. I got it."
He puts the paint roller against the wall in what used to be Charlie's room and rolls the first stripe of green over it between the meticulously taped lines that Castiel made to set the borders of the blocks and lines of colour that will emphasise the features of the room.
"It looks pretty dark," Dean says. "Are you really sure about the hunter green?"
Castiel rolls his eyes. "I didn't spend hours comparing different shades of green while you strolled through the junk yard for Baby's latest spare part to second-guess my choice now that it's on the wall. It will look perfect with the grey bed and Claire's pictures."
Dean smirks and resumes painting the column his boyfriend had told him to put on the wall. "Oh, yeah, that was the hard part," he teases and he can sense Castiel's soft smile behind him as he steps closer and presses a kiss to the nape of his neck.
"You have no idea how many greens exist in your eyes alone, love," Castiel says softly and it's unbelievable how Dean's partner can make him blush even after all these years.
"Sap!" he says to distract from his flustered state.
"You love it," Castiel speaks against his hair and puts his arms around Dean's middle.
"If I make a mistake it's all your fault," Dean chuckles and it vibrates into Castiel's chest, layers itself warmly around his heart.
"Okay," he says and pinches Dean's butt, chuckling about him jolting forward, nearly rolling the brush over the outline of the tape. "I make lunch. Sandwiches okay?"
Dean hums and leans back to place a kiss on Castiel's temple. "Thank you, angel."
Castiel walks out of the room and leaves Dean to his work and his own thoughts. One day more and he'll be a parent. Kind of. It's weird after all these years. He used to be a father to Sammy. But this time, he's an adult with a good job, a steady income, a nice flat, and a lovely man at his side. It's already so much more than he ever imagined to deserve.
And now, Claire. Petulant, smart, tough, infuriating, sweet Claire, who Castiel found dumpster diving behind the Gas-N-Sip. She had been prickly first until he offered her fresh food from the store and allowed her to roll out her sleeping bag in the staff room. As the manager, he had a bit of latitude after all.
It took some time, but she learnt to trust him not to take advantage of her vulnerability. Castiel's own experience with living on the street surely helped. Him being gay, too. It's why she had ended up homeless after all. Her holier-than-thou parents prefered pretending that their lesbian, underaged daughter didn't exist at all over accepting her for who she is.
Dean's painting green stripes on the wall to make a perfectly fine room even better for their camouflage loving, artistic foster daughter. And isn't that the strangest thing?
He takes a brush to paint the narrower lines by hand when Castiel calls him to grab a bite. He cleans his hands on a rag and nods, satisfied with his work.
Dean places a kiss on Castiel's cheek and bumps his shoulder against his when he sits down next to him at the breakfast bar. He bites into his BLT as Castiel enjoys his usual PB&J. They eat in silence, sharing soft smiles now and then. It's probably the calm before the storm, but it's their little piece of heaven.
They both have been through a lot, but they are blessed with having each other, with secure 9 to 5 jobs that pay the bills and leave room for more, for being both sober and loved just the way they are.
Just five years ago, Dean wouldn't have thought this to be possible. The year with Lisa had been the longest he could ever hold on to a relationship, Castiel managed even less. Two seemingly lost causes.
Dean runs the back of his hand over his mouth and takes a gulp of his water before he grabs Castiel's right hand, their matching black rings clinking together as he laces their fingers together. Castiel smiles at him quietly and it reminds him of the one after he came out to him and Castiel in return.
The lines around his partner's eyes are a little deeper now. From all the laughing, Dean is sure. Looking at them flushes the butterflies in his stomach. Dean never thought that he might have this. Not after Lis and Ben. But here he is.
Later, when they peel off the tape after the paint has dried, Dean grabs Castiel and presses him against the wall, kissing him breathless. They chuckle into each other's lips, enjoy their closeness and the feel of their hands in each other's hair.
And then, Castiel pulls him into their bedroom and undresses himself slowly. Dean knows that he does so just for him because Dean enjoys Castiel's body in other ways than Castiel enjoys Dean's. It leaves him breathless in a completely different way that Castiel trusts him to respect his boundaries while he pushes his own.
Castiel is so beautiful in the moonlight flooding through the window, tree shadows from the park framing his body as if he were a wood nymph. He looks ethereal. Dean is overwhelmed by the love pouring through his body, tightening his heart and somehow making it grow two sizes at the same time.
"Marry me," he blurts out.
Castiel turns around reposefully, an amused eyebrow raised as high as it can possibly reach. "We don't have to be married just because we're going to be parents," he states in his usual matter-of-fact way.
"I know. But I really want to."
The corners of Castiel's lips twitch into a fond smile. "Okay," he says, a slight tremble in his voice.
"Okay," Dean repeats and pulls his fiancé into his arms. They kiss for a long moment before they undress and cuddle up under the covers.
"I love you, angel," Dean whispers into Castiel's chest.
"I know," Castiel says and Dean can hear the pride in his laugh when he receives a chuckle in return.
Yes, with this man, he can grow old together.
This oneshot is a timestamp for the series "Chasing cars". You can read it on ao3.
