Dean and Cas out on a date, and Dean strutting around like a peacock because he’s got the world’s biggest hottie on his arm. No one’s even looking, but he’s so sure they are because why wouldn’t they.
“Can you believe this guy’s with me?” he’ll say to someone on the street. But that person is in the middle of a cell phone conversation and just nods placating so he’ll go away.
“We’ll need a table for two, because yes, this is my date. I’m this guy’s date, isn’t that something?” he’ll say to the hostess at the diner. She rolls her eyes and points to the sign that reads, Please Seat Yourself.
The waitress comes over and she’s more patient because she basically has to be. Though she finds it endearing when Dean goes on and on about how great his boyfriend is and gushes about how they met. “He saved me from literal hell.”
And Cas just sits unsure what all the fuss is about. Of course Dean is his date. They’ve been dating for ten years, and they’ve been coming to this restaurant together every Monday morning for the past six of them. Their waitress’s name is Susan and her three grandchildren are all in college now.
Still, Cas can’t and won’t stop the small smile that grows when Dean claps Cas on the shoulder or takes his hand, when Dean looks at Cas like he’s the most important person in the room. When he tells Susan, “I would die for this man. Dying’s easy though. I think I’d live for him too.”
Then he retrieves a ring from his pocket, and ten years together becomes a lifetime.
It’s simple. Or at least it should be. Walk down the aisle. Say the I Do’s.
A fifteen minute ceremony. A marriage. No honeymoon yet. They’ll be home by midnight, curled up on the couch together in their pajamas to watch those final two episodes on Netflix they’ve putting off.
Fifteen minutes. A ring. A kiss. The rest of their lives.
“I don’t deserve you,” Connor whispered into Oliver’s jaw the night before. “I don’t deserve this,” into Oliver’s cheek this morning.
Always, Oliver replies, “You do. You do.”
At the end of the aisle, Connor stands beside Oliver, his hand clasped to Oliver’s. A lifeline. An anchor.
“You don’t understand, Ollie,” Connor had argued when Oliver proposed. Months ago. Down on one knee. Smile and eyes bright, shining - open. Happy. “I don’t get to have this.”
Always, “You do.”
The ring on Connor’s finger adds years to his life.
Love. Life. Happiness. He wishes, hopes. Wants. More than anything, wants.
Connor holds Oliver’s eyes. Oliver holds Connor’s heart.
The officiant reads through the standard lines, the vows.
Softly, Oliver says, “You deserve this. You get to have this.”
Connor can’t quite believe it, but with Oliver, he’s desperate to.
“I do,” Connor says, first steps toward the rest of his life.
Oliver smiles, brilliant and beautiful and blinding. “You do.”
So, I finally finished my ‘Love Wins’ fic. You’re all probably thinking: “no way how is this so late?” To which I reply: “Better late than never!”
(DeanCas #LoveWins!AU)
The Friday is a rare one: Dean doesn’t have to go into the garage, and Cas’s summer classes have not only ended, but he has conceded spending the day in bed without working on his research. For the first time in a long time, the apartment is strewn with theology books at 10am, and nobody is awake to read them.
Then the house phone rings. Again. And again. And again.
“Turn it off,” Cas groans, burying his head into Dean’s chest. Worming one of his hands free, he grabs the pillow he’s not using and smushes over his ear. Dean gets whacked in the face and starts.
“You turn it off,” he grouses. “S’your turn anyway.”
There’s grumbling from underneath the pillow and with a pinch to his side, Dean is forced to growl and rumble about pushy boyfriends while groping blindly for the device. It hasn’t let up, and the minute Dean has it in hand he answers before immediately ending the call, leaving it off the hook and tossing it in the direction of the hamper. “Thank fuck,” he breathes, resettling.
Cas hums in agreement and lets go of his pillow. It slides onto the mattress when Dean pushes it away to tangle his fingers in dark hair.
“You wanna kiss me as a reward for all that reachin’ around?” Dean mumbles, eyes closed and lips quirked up. Castiel snuffles against the other’s chest and presses his lips to the skin beneath his cheek. “My saviour,” he rumbles flatly.
That’s when Dean’s cell rings.
Both men groan simultaneously, Cas rolling out of bed to stumble towards the dresser and turn it off. He’s exhausted, and flops on his boyfriend instead of crawling over him and getting into bed. “Hold me and kiss me as compensation.”
Dean snorts, but manages to wrestle Castiel from over the covers until he tucked into his chest, lips pressing to the other’s forehead. “You’re so full of shit,” he teases. “Compensation for what?”
“I had to get out of bed, Dean.”
“So? My arm is sore from reaching over.”
Castiel rolls his eyes. “My ass is sore from having to walk over there.”
“Mmm,” Dean hums lecherously. His hands move down to splay over the boxer-covered skin in question. “Well, we can’t have that.”
They’ve been making out for approximately one minute when Cas’s cell begins to ring.
“Ignore it,” Dean breathes against pink, swollen lips.
A nip. “I fully intend to.”
But then it rings again.
While Castiel rolls his eyes at the intrusion, Dean presses them together more firmly, hands wandering south until his thumbs brush against the sharp jut of Cas’s hips. “Leave us alone,” he breathes in a singsong voice, causing the other to smile.
The moment the ringtone ends, it starts up again. Castiel bites his lips. “Dean, what if it’s important—”
“It’s not,” Dean mouths into a stubbled jaw. “Prolly Sam geeking out over something weird. C’mon, kiss me again.”
Castiel obliges, pressing their lips together with purpose. The phone rings again and he wrenches away, distracted. “Dean, what if—”
But Dean is getting out of bed to turn off Castiel's phone. He's only just made it back to kissing his boyfriend when the new phone he’s been setting up for Bobby starts up.
"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me." He presses them together more firmly, stubbornly ignoring the noise.
"Dean..." Cas murmurs. "Maybe we should—ahhh!"
Dean smirks against his boyfriend's mouth, slightly shifting his hips to grind down again. He’s riling Cas up so bad he knows it’s only moments before his geeky theology nerd snaps, devouring him with lips and tongue.
But the goddamn phone never stops ringing.
It gets so bad that Cas goes almost catatonic, looking up at Dean from where he’s splayed out on the mattress with a bitten lip and blue eyes fixated on the telephone like ‘I really don’t want to offend you, honey, but I think someone might be dying on the other line’.
Yeah, right. Ten bucks says it’s Sam being a douche because the dickhead knows Cas is staying home today and he knows Dean was gunning for awesome, lazy sex. Nevertheless, Dean gets up and answers the stupid phone.
He then bolts to the TV room.
“…Supreme Court…”
“Dean?”
Dean waves Castiel in, perched on the edge of the couch and completely enraptured. His heart is pounding and his hands are sweating and Cas is beyond confused, padding into the room wrapped in their sheets and frowning in concern.
“…Gay marriage is now legal…”
Dean turns to his boyfriend the minute the words are out of the anchor’s mouth, watching surprise, disbelief, and a myriad of joyful, chaotic emotions flit across Cas’s face. He’s standing in the middle of the room, completely dumbstruck, and Dean doesn’t know what to do but he knows he wants to just, like, take some of the insane warm happy that’s filling up his chest and just rub him in it. He wants to hug Cas and kiss him and touch and marry him and—
Marry him.
Dean feels like he’s existing on two different plains of reality. In the first, he’s a fumbling, shaking mess. In the second, he’s cool and collected.
Though he is internally crumbling with nerves, Dean oddly finds himself totally able to put one foot in front of the other and kneel. “Cas—”
Cas drops to his knees and all but tackles him. “Yes,” he says desperately, peppering kisses to Dean’s face and lips. “One hundred, one thousand times yes. Yes for every star in the night sky. Dean Winchester—yes.”
Dean’s smile is so wide he’s sure it’ll break his face, and when Cas’s fingers—previously cupping his face—come away wet, he realizes he’s crying.
He said yes.
***
Fifteen minutes later, Dean hangs up the phone, left hand sliding over to rest on top of Castiel’s.
He’d been planning it for years, but it didn’t start to take a concrete shape until they actually started dating. They were going to go to dinner downtown, to the restaurant that had waterside seating; under the sparkling lights and shining stars, he would hold her hand tight in his own and rub his thumb over her knuckles and tell her exactly what she meant to him. It was perfect.
But then she got taken, and he nearly lost his mind trying to find her, trying to make sure she was okay. And when he found her, lip bloodied and cheek swollen, all of his pretty little plans ran out of the window.
“Marry me, Iris West,” he said, cradling her head to his chest, feeling like he would never, ever be able to let go. “I don’t care when or where, just marry me.”
“Barry,” she said. “There’s supposed to be a little more decorum to these things. You know, a ring, some-”
He picked her up and carried her to his apartment, pulling out the ring his mother wore, before whisking her away to the rooftop of Jitters. He pushed his cowl down and got on one knee in front of her.
“How about now?” he asked, and she broke down in tears as she repeated yes over and over again.
Dean and Cas holding hands in the Impala. And trading quick kisses at the red lights. And Dean laughing when Cas says something funny. And Cas looking so damned pleased with himself for making Dean laugh.
"We should do this more often," Dean says.
"We should do this all the time," Cas replies, a proposal.
"Hell, yes."
They're married two days later, no fuss. Maybe a little fuss.
Dean and Cas are in the Impala on their way to the grocery store. They stop at a red light and Dean looks over at Cas whose eyes are closed. He's smiling and Dean wonders if he's recalling some memory.
"What are you thinking about?" Dean can't resist asking.
"Us," Cas says.
Dean smiles. "Yeah?"
"Yes," Cas says.
And Dean can't really control himself anymore because he wants Cas to smile like that all the time - and Dean wants to smile too. So he says, "Marry me."
Cas keeps his eyes closed but his smile gets toothy wide.
"You have to answer, Cas," Dean prompts. "Don't leave me hanging here."
Cas opens his eyes then, blue sparkling with light and love. "Yes, Dean. Of course. Yes."
And Dean surges forward to kiss his angel. The light must change because the car behind them honks but Dean doesn't care. "Say it again, Cas."
