Castiel sat at the wooden table in the meeting room of the bunker, reading one of the many tomes that normally lined the walls. He slowly turned a page, the words not seeping in anyway. He was thinking, as he did all too often, about Dean. About how his fiancé had woken him up that morning, slowly kissing the soft skin of his inner thigh, unshaven stubble scratching along the sensitive stretch of skin. How Castiel had opened his eyes, already trembling, and immediately wound his fingers into his lover's light brown hair. And Dean had laughed, a low sound that only exacerbated the situation, leaving Castiel like putty in his hands.

He blinked as he realised he was at the end of the book already. Nothing had gone in. He looked up gingerly, to where Dean was sitting nearby, looking at something on his computer, studying it intently. To look at the hunter, you would never have known that he had any deep feelings bubbling under the surface, or that he could even have been thinking at that moment in time. His eyes were glazed, his gaze trained on the screen in front of him, his brow furrowed in concentration but otherwise, he gave no hint to his mood.

Castiel knew that, if Sam and Becky were to walk in at that moment, they would assume that he and Dean were working, researching a case. Obviously, Castiel would have been elected to read up on forgotten lore, while Dean grappled with more recent, technological methods of research.

It was a half-truth.

Dean was watching a movie, one that Castiel had recommended to him. Dean rarely appreciated Castiel's choice in movies, but Castiel was adamant he watch at least one wedding movie. Just one. Just so he knew all the elements needed to put a wedding together, since Sam and Becky had been so private about theirs. Dean had grudgingly accepted that he had to watch one, and Castiel had produced a list, which Dean had eyed warily. But he had made the decision, and refused to tell Castiel which one he was going to watch.

'You'll do that thing you do,' Dean had growled.

'What thing?'

'The same thing you did when we watched that other chick flick you tricked me into. Where you ruin the whole plot and all the good dialogue five seconds before it's on screen. You'd be the asshole waiting until Bruce Willis had gone to talk to his wife in the Sixth Sense to tell me he was a ghost all along, and how fucking obvious that was when he got shot at the start of the movie.'

'I haven't seen that movie,' Castiel said uncertainly. Dean had shrugged, and lifted the lid of his laptop.

'Spoiler alert: Bruce was a ghost.'

It was a trade-off, of sorts, because Dean had Castiel researching flowers, and their botanical properties, both good and bad. Castiel hated human research, he wanted to just know, to absorb the truth the way he used to be able to. So that next time he made a seemingly innocent statement like 'Periwinkle flowers are pretty, don't you think, Dean?' he wouldn't get an eye-roll at the suggestion, he'd get questions.

Dean hadn't noticed that Castiel had already gotten to the end of the book, or that he was sitting there, watching him intently. Watching his fiancé. That word still seemed so magical. Castiel slid off his seat slowly, his gaze fixed firmly on his future husband. His first instinct was to walk behind the hunter, to graze his fingertips across those firm shoulders, to slide his hands gently down those muscular biceps, his head nuzzling against the man he loved, wrapping him in an embrace as he continued to watch his movie.

But then he had a better idea, one that Dean might appreciate more when he was already watching a wedding-related movie. Castiel slid under the table, and crawled as quietly as possible over to the mud-caked boots and sagging denim that Dean insisted on wearing. Castiel managed to avoid making contact until his head was level with his lover's crotch. He reached for Dean's belt buckle, and the hunter started, looking down below the table.

'Cas?'

Castiel winked, hoping it looked alluring and not awkward, before he proceeded to undo the belt fastening. He maintained Dean's eye contact as he moved forward slowly, kissing low down on his abdomen. Dean's eyes fluttered, and Castiel refocused on his mission. He caught the zipper between his teeth, biting hard, and moved down, hoping that his efforts looked as sensual as he was aiming for as his nose caressed the bulge concealed by soft cotton. He heard Dean hiss between his teeth, and took that as a sign to continue. He pulled the zipper apart, as his fiancé rocked his hips slightly, either in anticipation or an attempt to be helpful. It gave Castiel the opportunity to wriggle his jeans slightly lower, to reach in past the denim and begin searching along the plain cotton boxers until he found the gap at the front, where he proceeded to pull Dean out, massaging the soft, velvety skin as he did so.

He heard another hiss, and felt one of Dean's hands rub against his head, near his ear. He nuzzled against it as he started caressing around Dean's penis, his fingertips rubbing, his palm cupping briefly before he pulled his fingers tight, their path undefined until he hit one particularly thick vein, which he traced from base to head and back again. Dean tightened his grip on Castiel's head and pushed his own hand in the way, gripping himself tightly in a way that Castiel could see would be too difficult to prise off. Dean's knuckles were maybe an inch from his eyes before the hunter began kneading himself. Castiel wasn't going to be beaten, even if he now had to rush. He kissed the head of Dean's penis, and licked the tip slowly, his tongue barely grazing the swollen skin.

'Fuck.' Dean breathed, and applied pressure to Castiel's head. 'Baby, just blow me.'

He forced Castiel's head closer, his penis pushing past Castiel's lips as Dean shifted in his seat once more. Castiel began bobbing his head up and down, his tongue dancing across Dean's flesh as he found a rhythm that matched Dean's ferocious hips. He could hear the thud of the table top above him, and wondered if Dean's hand was hurting from where it was shielding his head from the wood.

The chair tipped back dangerously, and Castiel grabbed onto the front legs as Dean came down his throat, making him choke, while Dean let go and braced himself against the table, panting. When he got his breath back, he bent down and kissed Castiel's hair.

'I love surprise blow jobs.' He muttered, just as they heard a scuffling outside the front door, echoing through the room. They paused for a moment, before Dean began stuffing himself back inside his jeans, and Castiel crawled out from under the table. He pointed wordlessly to his face and Dean smirked.

'Not this time, you got it all.'

The door opened, and they heard footsteps on the iron-clad balcony, before Sam stuck his head over the bannister.

'We're back from our honeymoon!' Becky sang out behind him, before he could utter a word. They started walking down the steps together, as Dean quickly ran a hand over Castiel's hair, smoothing it down. He bent forward and straightened Castiel's tie.

'Your mouth is all puffy and red, like you stuck it in a bottle or something.'

'Or sucked my fiancé's dick.' Castiel murmured back.

'I love it when you talk normal,' Dean wound his hands around Castiel's hips, and Sam cleared his throat.

'Come on, guys! It's been sixteen months, how are you still horny like teenagers?'

'Your brother is unbelievably attractive.' Castiel turned to talk to his future brother-in-law, while stepping in closer to Dean. Sam rolled his eyes as Becky stepped forward, clutching a binder to her chest.

'So, do you guys want to see our honeymoon pictures, or should we talk about your wedding?'

Dean let go of Castiel, stepping towards the kitchen.

'Wine, Becky?'

'No thank you, I'm driving. Sam will have a beer.'

Dean looked at Castiel for a moment, and then rolled his eyes rather than bothering to ask. When he left the room, Becky immediately began over-analysing her brother-in-law.

'There's not trouble in paradise already, is there? He's still happy with you, isn't he Cas?'

'We're fine, Becky. He always does that when it comes to alcohol. He wishes I would just be simple and drink beer.'

'They're more than fine, honey. I'd put money on the fact they were doing something just before we came in.'

Sam sat back in Castiel's seat, looking tanned and well rested, and completely content. He cocked an eyebrow at Castiel, as though challenging the ex-angel, who gladly pointed to Dean's laptop.

'We were watching wedding movies,' he exclaimed triumphantly. Sam's raised eyebrow seemed to take on a skeptical tone. 'What?'

'My brother. Watching chick flicks. Willingly. What was the pay off? Or do I not want to know.'

Castiel blushed, and he knew whatever he said or did, Sam already had his number.

'You know Castiel, if Dean does that whole "baby, have whatever you want!" nonsense and you need help making a decision over the dusty rose or watermelon, I'm your girl.' Becky cut through the atmosphere with her usual bubbliness. 'I have so much wedding stuff left over from the decisions I had to make, and well, Charlie's not that much better than Dean at the girly stuff.'

Castiel hesitated, and gestured to the books in front of Sam.

'That's not a problem with us.'

Becky looked down at the binder that was still in her arms, her expression crushed.

'I mean, Dean's active in the wedding planning. Maybe too much.' Castiel sighed, and gestured for the binder. Becky handed it over, and they sat together, opposite Sam, flicking through the magazine clippings that Becky had gathered over the years. 'When he comes back with the drinks, ask him about having those colours.'

He carried on looking through the binder at the different wedding cakes and dresses that Becky had gathered together, and Dean came back in the room with two beers, a glass of water, and pale yellow drink that he set in front of Castiel.

'Gimlet,' he said before Castiel could ask. 'We're out of rum.'

Castiel nodded, and took a small sip as Dean distributed the rest of the drinks.

'So, Dean,' Becky grinned at her brother-in-law. 'How's the wedding planning going?'

'Slowly,' Dean shrugged, and sat back in his seat, clicking off the movie.

'I was just asking Castiel what colours you were having.'

Dean shut the laptop lid.

'Depends on what flowers we go for, I guess.'

Castiel could tell that Sam and Becky hadn't expected the response they got. The ex-angel pursed his lips to prevent himself from smiling, knowing what was going to come.

'What are your choices?' Becky took the binder from Castiel, flicking through to the flower section. 'I think lilies would be gorgeous, really simple. I mean, you don't want it too feminine, right?'

'I nixed lilies already. Association with death. Funeral flower. And I know, I know, everyone's going to be mourning the fact that I'm off the market, but still, no lilies.'

Becky looked around Castiel to Dean, and then flicked through the pages again.

'Mexican poppies are gorgeous, and unusual.'

'Is that one we looked up already?' Dean asked Castiel, who sighed.

'Yes. Witchcraft use.'

'Then hell no.'

Castiel looked back at Becky and shrugged.

'Over-involved.'

'Wait, are you researching your entire wedding?' Sam chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

'He used to be an angel. Our family is cursed, and we're hunters. What would you do Sammy? It's like we're baiting every demon and witch and ghoul out there. I'm not risking anyone, just because I said I'd marry Cas.'

'Dean's worried that someone will die at our wedding.' Castiel summed up. Sam pulled one of the books that Castiel had been pretending to read, and flicked through it absent-mindedly.

'So, are there any possible options?'

'St John's wort.' Dean spoke with his mouth pressed against his beer bottle, which he then tipped back and began gulping down the contents. Becky flipped through her binder once more, and Sam sat back in his chair with the book, and Castiel grinned at Dean, who winked back. Neither of them were going to point out to Becky that Sam would probably help more with their wedding than he did with his own.

Castiel looked over Becky's shoulder as she carried on with her binder, hoping for inspiration, and she leaned close to him in order to whisper in his ear.

'Cassie? You might want to check your face in the mirror. You got something on your cheek.'

Castiel closed his eyes in mortification. Dean had promised him that everything was fine. No wonder Sam had seemed so confident about what they'd been up to.

'I'll be right back,' he muttered, and tried to walk slowly out of the room while shielding his face. And then he stopped walking, blinking in confusion. The dim green-and-beige walls of the bunker hallways had given way to wood panelling and red velvet seats, and a familiar woman standing nearby, smiling warmly at him.

'Hello Castiel. Welcome back to Heaven.'

Castiel looked around, as though he would see the bunker behind him, but instead there was a blank panelled wall. He looked back at the brunette, who stepped forward and held out her hand.

'Come. You have an appointment.'

'An appointment? Hannah, they cut me off. Dean made them promise not to interfere with us.'

'Heaven is under new management. And the instructions were clear, bring Castiel in for an appointment.'

She took his wrist, and led him along the thick carpeted hallway, pushing open one of the thick doors and tugging him inside.

'He'll be here with you soon. Please, relax. It won't be long.'

With that, Hannah shut him inside the room, and Castiel knew without even trying that escape was futile. He wished that Dean were there with him, prepared to deal with whatever Heaven was about to throw their way, and protecting Castiel without a second thought.


Hey, hope this is an okay first chapter! I have a lot of plans for this story, if my head would stop spinning long enough for me to get them down :/

From the research I did about the plants ... did you know hyacinths are the emblem for homosexual love, and have been since ancient Greek times? *coughs*Siren episode*coughs*