So I wrote this during science, hope you like it! Oh, and I don't own supernatural. If I did it would be a lot gayer, not that it isn't already pretty homoerotic.

If Dean were to sum up his morning in one word, 'gray' would diffidently come to mind. Or depressing or sober, either way he felt like he was sucked into a black and white movie about prohibition.

This abdominal morning was, of course, all credited, of course, to Sam, who the night before, made them pull into a motel in a dry county all due to a little rain. Although it was still pouring by the time they woke up. Sam got so cocky that Dean stormed out and booked his own room.

But his solitary confinement left him to thing, and thinking typically involves Cas. Cas did try to visit more often now that he and Dean were together, but he was a busy angel, and the distance was depressing. It was like a long distance relationship, but instead of different states, they were on separate metaphysical planes. Needless to say, it was a bit taxing.

The hunter was fed up. He pressed his palms together and prayed, "Cas, can you get your ass down here? I know you're busy but it's been a week. Time to come down, big boy." There was a flutter of wings, and that dingy little motel room got a lot brighter.

"Hello Dean" The angel greeted. "It's nice to see you"

"Damn straight" Dean responded, pulling his angel onto the bed and into a long awaited kiss.

A couple hours later that motel room didn't seem so colorless anymore. I guess it was the * ahem * decorating they did with those meddlesome clothes. Cas was cradled in the muscular arms of his hunter. If there were ever two people that were meant to be holding each other, Cas and Dean were those people.

"Hey Cas?" Dean began waking the angel from his euphoric haze.

"Yes?" Cas responded.

"Do you think after heaven is sorted, and the monsters are dead, and I get a real job, you could come down here? We could shack up on Bobby's land, get married, maybe get a few brats. You know, live the 'American Dream'"

Cas was silent, staring blankly at his beloved Winchester. Seconds began to pass, then minutes. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Castiel's risen hand.

After about fifteen minutes Dean go his answer.

"Why wait?"