Dean glances at his watch for the fifth time as he leans back against the Impala's hood. Cas is running late and he doesn't like it. There are too many things that could have gone wrong for Dean not to have his stomach in knots. Somehow he's so much more worried now that it's nearly over than he's been all those years.
Ever since the day Cas went away.
Ten years.
Back then, it seemed like forever.
Forever without the man he loved and took another forever to realize that.
When the two words came out of Naomi's mouth, Dean was sure he misheard. At first. Then he fought. Then he kicked and screamed and bargained. He offered himself to go with Cas, help him fight his heavenly battles, in words, at least, if not in blade.
But he had no one on his side.
Not Cas who wanted to keep him safe on earth. Not Sam who just wanted to keep him.
"Hell might be closed but our job's not done," he said.
It took Dean too long to let go of that grudge.
But the ten years have passed. On the very same backroad that Cas said goodbye, Dean's going to hold him again.
If he comes. If he's allowed to.
If he's alive.
"Come on, Cas," he mutters impatiently. He's not beyond praying to hurry his ass down. He only hasn't started yet because he doesn't want to crowd him.
There's a rustle of wings behind. And for a split second Dean's not sure he hasn't dreamed it, like he has so many times before.
But then he turns and Cas is there, standing in the dying light of the day, unchanged. He's still got the same old trenchcoat and the same old face. Maybe his hair is a little bit wilder and his posture a little stiffer. But that was to be expected; ten years of politics and war among those celestial stuck-ups would do that to anyone.
"Cas," Dean lets out relieved. He wastes no time closing the distance. "They better pay you for over-hours."
He wraps his arms tightly around Cas, nuzzles his nose into his collar. He can't hold back a brief laugh as he's soaking in his presence. Cas's embrace feels a little awkward, with his hands loosely laid on the small of Dean's back, like he forgot what to do with them. But Dean doesn't mind. He can hold on for both of them and never let go.
But he has to let go eventually.
"I missed you so much, Dean."
Despite the time that's passed, Dean can still see the same love in his eyes that was there when they kissed for the first time.
Cas examines every inch of Dean's face, every new laugh line and every gray hair adorning Dean's temples. He lifts his hand, traces the deep crow's feet with the lightest caress. Dean can't help leaning into the touch.
"You've changed."
Dean shrugs. It's been ten years. "Time flies when you're having fun."
"Well then," Cas mutters, leaning in. He lays down a kiss on Dean's lips, too brief and too chaste and leaving Dean wanting more, so much more. "Let's see how fast we can make it fly, together."