The first kiss came after a long, exhausting hunt. There was a lot of pain, blood, and tears. Castiel saw Dean blame himself for not stopping the dying fast enough, and protested with a chaste kiss on the lips. The Winchester was silent for a beat, and then he wrapped the angel in his arms.
Quickly, the angel took to giving his hunter a peck on the cheek, a brush of lips on the temple, on the crown of his head. His knuckles, his nose, his chin, his browbones. Whenever he could, he expressed his love for his Winchester in feather light kisses, heavy, warm kisses. It never mattered when, or where. With who, at whatever, Castiel never took mind of it. It was always when Dean needed it most, when Castiel needed to, when he wanted to. Kissing Dean was a drug, and Castiel was hooked. Naturally, at first, the hunter was weirded out by the constant stream of affection coming from the angel. He was not used to being loved, taken care of, adored the way Castiel showed him. Everything was new to the Winchester with his angel. For once, Dean wasn't in control. And for once, maybe that was okay.
Eventually, Dean picked up Castiel's not-so-bad habit. Kisses were exchanged. They held hands, hooked elbows, slung arms over shoulders. Cuddled, snuggled, slept, loved. Whatever they started out with had evolved into something different. For once, Dean did not do anything less innocent than lay beside his angel and sleep, for many months. The first time they made love, it was seven months into their relationship. It was slow, warm, perfect. They finished feeling like they were floating on a bed of sunshine, and if either of them had to describe how the felt afterwards, they would've responded with radiant, or full of something purer than just simple love.
There were happy kisses, angry kisses, upset kisses, excited, longing, goodnight, goodmorning, everything kisses. When they made good on Dean's joking suggestion to move to Vermont and open up and charming B&B, there was a time when frequent, seemingly meaningless kisses were exchanged more often than usual. As it happened, the store they began to purchase decorations from was owned and operated by Sarah Blake, one of Sam's exes. She was estatic to meet him again, and not at all surprised to learn that his brother was practically married to an angel. It came as no shock when Sam and Sarah got back together, and soon learned that Castiel had proposed to Dean, and Dean had, of course, said yes. If you asked them how it happened, they would always say Castiel just handed Dean the ring one day, and Dean had instantly understood. There were many happy kisses.
Most of their B&B's income came from hunters who chose to stay at the Winchester's Roadhouse. Castiel was a Winchester now, of course. Castiel told stories of the dawn of mankind, and the happier times of being an angel of the Lord, to curious travelers, and Dean manned the bar, occasionally derailing the conversation with a suggestion of another story. Dean's personal favorite was when Castiel spoke of his learning to fly. The angel had a way with words. He was poetic in his prose, enrapturing his audiences and capturing the attention of those not actively listening. He was enchanting. Dean's own stories were frequently about hunting, but they were still entrancing. Everyone seemed to favor the story of the apocalypse. Once, some actual FBI agents decided to crash at the Roadhouse. Castiel was going through one of his endless stories, when one of the two agents told Dean that it was impressive how realistic the story was. He smirked, and instructed the agent to ask the angel how he knew what it was like to fly through space and time.
"How should you know what it's like?" the agent questioned.
"Miss, though I do not look it, I am very, very old. And thought I do not look it, I am an angel of the Lord." Castiel smiled. The agent raised an eyebrow, not believing him. Her partner seemed less skeptical.
"Sir, do you have proof?" he asked. Castiel met Dean's gaze, and the angel's eyes crinkled.
"Yes, yes." the angel replied, and the shadows of his wings took form. Castiel began to glow with his power display, and awe took the face of everyone in the room. Dean still could never get used to his angel completely. It was impressive, and downright awesome. From that moment on, the FBI agents listened, enraptured.
Everything was good. Sam and Sarah married and had children, three, John Samuel, Mary Jessica, and Shauna Catherine. Castiel and Dean remained happy, spoiling the youngest Winchesters rotten. They eventually adopted twins, and named them Riley John and Rose Mary. They were adored by everyone who stayed in the Roadhouse, and always had babysitters on hand. The Winchesters finally got their happy ending, and God knows, they earned it.