Hi, this is my first fic. Please say how I can improve my writing. Thankyou! Hope you enjoy.

Castiel had been human for years now.

He'd accepted and suffered most types of pain that humans could feel- and he was happy about it. Physical pain made him feel real. As an angel, the only pain he suffered was complete agony, like Enochian spells from the mouths of demons, and the Leviathans destroying his body from the inside. But tiny pains- like paper cuts and scalding his finger when he stupidly checked the temperature of a cup of coffee- this is more real, he thought as he sucked on his burnt finger. Humans generally didn't suffer agony. They cried over little things, like falling out of trees (Castiel hadn't done that- Dean seemed paranoid that he would really hurt himself, and so had refused to allow him anywhere near the top of anything with height).

Emotional pain, though- that was harder to deal with. But he still thought emotions were better for him. He knew what happiness, and pride were: the feelings in his chest, like it was swelling when Jessica Lee Moore was brought down from heaven by some unknown being and he saw the look on Sam's face when he saw her properly for the first time in nine years. He'd felt like he was going to burst and left them alone and just sat outside and looked at the stars, and whispered small prayers and thanks to whoever had brought her down. He heard Sam crying and talking to her, and was so happy and pleased that Sam had Jessica again. He didn't even know the girl. But he heard about her, and she made Sam happy, and that was good enough for him.

There were feelings, however, that he did not quite understand. For example, the small constriction in his throat when he looked at Dean, or how when Dean spoke to him, the temperature always seemed to rise slightly and he would have to loosen his poorly done-up tie. It confused him, but he just assumed it was from their profound bond- Castiel pulling Dean from Hell. But it wasn't just a human feeling; Castiel had felt it even as an angel.

And one year after Jess's return, Castiel was sitting next to Dean, both in uncomfortable suits, with glasses of wine (he personally thought it was disgusting- he couldn't understand how Dean enjoyed it so much), at some sort of pre-marital ceremony (Dean insisted it was called a party) for Sam and Jessica's wedding.

As the few guests made a toast to a long and happy marriage between the two, Castiel tried to remember when his perception on marriage had changed. As an angel, he had privately considered it an unnecessary tradition. If one loved another, why did they have to be bound together? Wouldn't it be better for them to remain free, but promise themselves to one another, at least for some time? Then they would know it was a choice between them to stay with each other. And then when their relationship eventually crumbled, they would be free to find somebody else.

But he was sure he understood now. People want to feel like they belong to somebody else. And marriage secured that choice an unmarried couple would make; it was stronger than just knowing someone loved you, it made it feel like a ribbon was binding you and your love together, forever, knowing you were losing your freedom, but not caring because you wouldn't feel free unless they were with you.

At least that's what he thought. He had read it in a book somewhere.

Castiel swallowed his sip of wine, keeping a straight face as he tried to ignore the somehow sweetly bitter taste pass over his tongue. Dean drained his entire glass, and replaced it heavily on the table.

"What's wrong, Cas?" he asked, noticing the barely touched wine. "Don't you like wine?"

Castiel shook his head. "It's not my favourite beverage," he admitted quietly. It most certainly wasn't. He preferred drinks with milk in them. He found it fascinating that it was normal to drink a liquid that came from a living animal.

Dean frowned. "Didn't you down an entire liquor store a few years ago?"

Castiel shrugged. "It was useful… for blocking out unwanted emotions."

It was Dean's turn to shrug, and then he downed the glass. When he finished, he wiped the back of his hand on his mouth. Castiel watched the movement, slightly transfixed. "Let's wish the man some luck," Dean said, standing up.

Sam was looking dizzy and flushed, but in what Castiel assumed must be a good way. He was smiling a lot, and swaying very slightly. Dean wrapped his arm around his little brother's shoulder.

"Good luck, man. And dude, time to go to sleep. You don't want to be wasted at your own wedding," Dean ordered.

Sam just smiled at them both and allowed himself to be pulled away. As he was pulled to wherever his room was (Castiel could not remember the name of wherever they were), he started talking.

"I'm just so happy," he said, grinning. "I mean, do you have any idea how many times I imagined this, after-" his voice faltered slightly as he remembered Jessica's death. "I was always thinking that if I had stopped it, we could have had a normal life and gotten married years ago, and we could've had kids now." Sam beamed brighter. "And now it's happening." He laughed delightedly. "It's your turn next, you two." Castiel and Dean laughed at the joke, but he wasn't sure why he was laughing. He mostly felt disappointed. Dean didn't look like he enjoyed the joke all that much either. Sam frowned at them. "I thought that-" he said, squinting at them. He tilted his head. "Never mind."

After they dropped Sam off, Dean and Castiel walked back to the party. Which wasn't happening anymore, as the few guests must have noticed Sam being dragged off to bed and turned in themselves, waiting for tomorrow.

"Dean," said Castiel carefully. "Do you believe that you might ever get married, yourself?" He wasn't sure how Dean would react to the personal question. He was concerned he might be offended.

But instead, Dean laughed. "I hope so. I've had my eye on someone for years. Just gotta get the guts to ask them for a drink, first." Castiel felt a small pang in his chest. He wasn't sure what that was, either. And he wasn't all that good at advice, but anything that would make Dean happy would make him happy. He would gladly leave and not return if it pleased him.

"You should ask them," he said. Dean raised his eyebrows. "If I was asked by someone I didn't like in- that sort of way, I would still be flattered. I think they will say yes. You should ask."

Dean just looked at him for a while, and Castiel felt his face grow warm.

"What?" he asked, feeling self conscious, as Dean continued to stare at him. He eventually looked away.

"You're the best friend anyone could ask for, Cas," he said.

Castiel frowned. He didn't understand how Dean still liked him, even after all the things he had done. "I highly doubt that. A good friend would listen more, and would be able to tell the difference between right and wrong, which I have always done poorly. I have also hurt you and Sam on numerous occasions and-"

"Just shut up, Cas," Dean interjected loudly. "I'm trying to compliment you."

Castiel blinked. "Thank you, then."

"Yeah, well see you tomorrow, bright and early. I still need to teach you how to tie your tie." He frowned in the direction of Castiel's throat. He looked down to see his own poorly tied tie. It had taken him so long to do, and he had been fairly proud of it. As an angel, Jimmy Novak's tie was rarely removed, and so he had never acquired the skill of actually tying it.

"Goodnight, Dean," Castiel said. Now that he had mentioned it, he was tired.

"Night, dude," Dean replied, and left with a strange look on his face, leaving him alone in the empty room.

Castiel lay awake for hours. This irritated him, as since he had fallen from Heaven, he had realised how much he enjoyed sleeping. It was an excellent way to escape from things he had done, even if they did occasionally make an appearance in his dreams. As he stared at the grain in the wood of the ceiling, he tried to work out why he couldn't sleep. He wanted to be awake for Sam and Jessica the next morning.

It took him a long time to eventually drift off, and for some obscure reason, the last thing he thought of before he fell asleep was Dean.

The next morning flew by very quickly. Dean came to Castiel's room early on, and showed him how to tie his tie properly. "If we're working a case, you have to look like a real Fed. Fed's know how to do up their ties," he explained. Castiel agreed, but for some reason he enjoyed the visit more than he would have thought. It was just Dean. His friend.

In no time at all, Jessica was floating up the aisle in a white dress, and then she was at the altar, they said their vows, and the twenty or so people in attendance cried.

Then that was over, and Dean and Castiel went over to congratulate the couple.

Both Jessica and Sam were teary, and were clinging to each other. Castiel suddenly found himself wishing that he knew what it was like to fall in love so that he could be married someday. He had married Daphne, when he thought of himself as Emmanuel, but that was more a gesture of thankfulness, rather than love, he realised.

Jessica brandished her bouquet of flowers, and several young female guests squealed. They're hoping to catch it, Castiel remembered. It was a human tradition, where the bride would throw her flowers, and the first to catch them would be married next. It was illusory, but it was a nice way of romanticising a bunch of flowers that wouldn't last till the next day. The young women waved at Jessica, hoping the flowers would be thrown near them. The bride smiled at them back.

So Castiel was surprised when Jessica turned away from the women and hurled the bouquet straight at him. It took him a second to realise what was happening, but he then reflexively caught it, several petals falling and catching on the fabric of his suit.

The young women looked slightly taken aback, but cheered even more loudly. Dean cackled with laughter at his bewildered expression.

"I don't understand why you would throw them to me," he said when he and Dean drew close to the couple. "Wouldn't it be more traditional to allow one of the women to catch it, therefore-"

"Well, too bad for them," she said. "I guess you're just getting married next, aren't you?"

"I don't think flowers can determine-"

"Shut up," the other three said altogether.

Sam and Jessica moved off to talk to some other guests, leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

"So," said Dean. "I guess you're getting married next."

Castiel decided to humour him. "It would seem so."

"Yeah- well- um…" Dean seemed to be steeling himself for something.

He looked at Dean expectantly. He waited for Dean to make a joke about whom he should marry.

"Do you want to get a drink with me?" he blurted out.

Castiel stared. His face felt hot and he was even more aware of the very feminine bouquet in his hands. He at first thought Dean was making fun of him. "As friends?" he asked, carefully. For some reason, he was hoping Dean didn't mean as friends.

But then he remembered them talking the night before. And Dean looked like he was considering vomiting from anxiety.

"Were you speaking about me, when we talking last night?" he asked.

Dean's face flushed darker, and it wasn't from alcohol. "Uh-huh."

Castiel recalled the rest of the conversation. "You were hoping to marry me?" he paused. "Me?"

Dean's face coloured even more. "Well... I need you know if you want to get that drink with me."

Castiel was surprised he wasn't feeling embarrassed. He just felt like his chest was swelling more and more, until it eventually wouldn't be able to hold his heart, which had started beating a lot faster. He recognised this emotion.

"You've been in love with me for years?" Dean had certainly stated that he had been in love with someone for years… and he had just asked Castiel to have a drink with him.

Dean shuffled his feet, confirming the question. Castiel found his face breaking open into a smile.

"I would marry you now if that wasn't improper," Castiel said. His emotions were making sense now. He could understand them.

Dean looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite describe. "Dammit, Cas," he said. "You haven't said if you'll have that drink with me."

"Oh," he replied. "Of course I will."

Dean smiled shyly, a characteristic Castiel was sure he had never seen on his face before. Dean proffered his arm and as Castiel took it awkwardly, trying to work around Jessica's bouquet, he couldn't help thinking that maybe he would be getting married, like the old tradition.

He hoped so, anyway.

Was that okay? Hope you enjoyed it. Please review if you have any tips of writing or if you just want to comment on my fic.