Roughly the Same Time

The Impala


"I don't like it," Dean said. His hands gripped the wheel tight, contemplating the neck he wanted to wring.

"Sam is twenty-six, correct?" Dean glanced over to the passenger seat. Cas was giving him the typical I'm Cas and I can read your soul like an open book look.

"Yeah. So?"

"He is, by all definitions, an adult. Capable of making his own decisions. Yes, it perhaps seems somewhat suspicious from Sam's end, but I trust Gabriel to not be too morally lax." Cas did have super-soldier spidey senses, so Dean would at least mostly trust his judgement there. He let it calm him down a little. "He comes over sometimes while you're at the shop. We talk. It seems they've been, what is it, hanging around? For some time, from what I've understood. Gabriel was always careful not to say too much, as I'm sure he assumed I would tell you anything too strange. However, my particular skill set may have led to some revelations. They've been seeing each other several times a week for several months. I would say they've become friends."

"That's…that don't really sit right with me."

Cas sighed. "I know. But you know Gabriel well enough to trust him to look after Sam. He keeps him clean and informs you of any troubles he might encounter. He's a good man, by your own definition."

"Yeah, but Sam doesn't know that. For all he knows, Gabriel's a half-pint drug dealer with a weird sense of humor. A drug dealer. And Sam's sleeping with him anyway? Sam's not even gay!" Sure, he joked about it all the time, but Sam joked about him and Cas every chance he got, so it was only fair.

"Dean, I believe you have a fascination for labeling people, especially concerning sexual orientation. It isn't very productive." He said something under his breath that sounded like "Orhonest.". Dean glanced at him; he was right. Dean hated it when people said he was gay or whatever with Cas (really, gay was the best of it - he'd heard the term soulmates thrown around too many times for him to be able to not gag at the word, in any context). Other people didn't understand what he and Cas had. The whole codependency thing started with Sam, then Sam couldn't understand him as well as he used to, but Cas was there, standing in the growing wreckage of Dean's life. Cas could always be depended on. He was safe. He was strong enough not to break. Dean didn't deserve him at all, but he had him. And Cas needed him to survive in the real world, at least for the time being. There was nothing romantic or sexual about it. It might have been easier if it were.

(Dean sometimes considered it, in the wee hours of the morning. What it would be like if he and Cas did have the ease of a romantic relationship. If he could have all of his needs satisfied by one single person. He wouldn't have to half-heartedly check out a bar for a chick or wink at every pretty girl he saw. He could just forget about it all and come home to someone he could sleep with if he wanted to, someone he could kiss just because he felt like it, and curl up against for no real reason at all.

Too bad neither he or Cas had any interest in each other.)

"Maybe you're right," he said, his mind hanging out in other places.

Thing was, the more he thought about it, the more he knew that he needed to make sure that Cas wouldn't leave him. Sure, they couldn't perfectly fulfill each other's needs, but they could get damn close.

After he dropped Cas off at work, Dean went and bought the ring.


A Week Later

Dean and Cas' Place


The ring had been burning a hole in his jacket pocket all week, and Dean still hadn't figured out how to do it. He knew that, sham marriage or not, it was important to do these things right. Getting down on one knee and all of that. That was how you did it.

Too bad he couldn't find the right moment.

Sure, there were plenty of times when they were alone, but he couldn't just drop to a knee while they were watching TV, or at dinner or something. That was awkward. Way too awkward.

It was pretty much horrible. Proposing a permanent platonic union was tough shit.

The front door opened.

"Hey, Cas." Dean, on the couch, rolled his head to the side to look at the doorway.

"Sorry, Dean-o. Your lover boy's still at the office, as far as I know." Dean sighed. Gabriel, like Cas, never used keys and had a habit of popping up on a whim. "What's got you all…mopey?"

Dean sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. "Fucking hell. Grab me a beer so I can at least pretend I still have my balls."

Garbiel laughed, heading to the kitchen. "Trouble in paradise?" He came back with a couple of beers, handed one to Dean, and flopped on the couch.

"I'll tell you, but you've gotta promise not to laugh." Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, okay, I guess you can't make that promise. But in my defense, it was Sam's idea in the first place. So blame him."

"Now you've piqued my interest. Keep talking."

"I'm, well, I'm going to pop the question. To Cas."

"Yeah, well, what else?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I want to marry him for the benefits-"

"Don't we all?-"

"Shut up. I mean for taxes and insurance and hospitals and all of that. It's not like I'm ever going to want to marry someone for real, and Cas is too socially retarded to want to anyway. I thought it was shit when Sam told me, but the more I think about it, it makes sense."

Gabriel looked at him like he was a complete idiot.

"Yeah, I know, Sam probably meant it as some sort of girly matchmaking strategy, but I think it might not be completely stupid. Surprisingly. I just haven't gotten around to asking him yet. I got a damn ring and everything."

Gabriel just started laughing, hard enough that he had to set his beer down. Dean watched him for a moment, then finished off his beer, glaring tiredly. After a minute, Gabriel wiped his eyes.

"You are the most ridiculous person I've ever met."

"Shut your cakehole. I didn't want your opinion."

"Yeah, but you asked for it anyway." Gabriel looked at him seriously. "Just take him out to dinner tonight, and when you come back, just ask him." He snorted. "I can't believe I'm giving you relationship advice. I feel like fucking Cosmo."

"Ha ha. You're hilarious. Really." He went to get another beer. When he came back into the room, he said, "Hey, why are you here anyway?"

"Peace offering. I realized you were still paying me to look after Sam. I've got a grand for the past couple months. Didn't seem right keeping it since, well, you know." He pulled a bundle of bills out of his pocket, tossed them at Dean. "I'll look after him, though. I mean, obviously. Not that it's hard not to, considering that he's built like the Chrysler Building."

"Are you trying to buy Sam off of me? He may be a woman, but he's not a mail-order bride."

"Oh, he's definitely not a woman, let me tell you." Dean throws up a little, but Gabriel's grinning wide, well-aware of the impact of what he said. "And I'm not paying for him. It's kind of weird for you to pay me to do something I've been doing because I…because I just did it anyway. I'm not a total jerk."

"Yeah," Dean said levelly. "You're alright."

The front door opened, and Dean looked over. Cas.

"Hey, Cas. What's up?"

"The ceiling, as always. Hello, Gabriel. I did not expect to see you here. I'm glad you've made your peace."

"Actually, I was about to leave," Gabriel said, getting up. "I got what I came here for." He winked at Dean before he left and made a crude gesture behind Cas' back. Of course.

"How do you feel about going out for dinner?" Cas, who'd shrugged off his trench coat, reached for it again.

"Now?"

"Yeah, I mean, sure. Whatever. Might as well." Dean didn't want it all to happen so fast, but it was, and he'd fucking run with it like a pro.


Dinner turned out to be cheeseburgers at the diner they found the week they moved (really, finding a good diner had been Dean's first order of business, but that was one of those things that didn't need saying). It was where they usually went. Just after they sat down, Dean idly wondered if Gabriel meant something a little fancier, but he shrugged it away; it wasn't a date or anything.

Meg came over to refill their waters, and Dean glared at her. She had a habit of winking at Cas and blatantly flirting with him. Sure, Cas had no idea what was going on, but Dean knew she was a total bitch. He got that feeling from her. He never tipped more than ten percent when she was their waitress, on principle.

Cas was finishing up his burger, chewing thoughtfully. They traded work-talk out of habit, but the conversation was largely kept to a minimum. Dean was too distracted to make an effort. Because, well, fuck, he was going to propose. To really go through with it. It was kind of incredibly scary. Dean didn't do commitment. Not at all. It wasn't his thing, not by a long shot, but hell, he'd already asked Cas to move in with him. He'd already pretty much given a one-finger salute to his commitment phobia on Cas' behalf. Might as well go for it.

Dean pushed open the door to their apartment with a sigh. He was going to do it. Before he went to bed, he was going to fucking ask a man to marry him. Jesus. It sounded so weird in his head.

"I'm gonna grab a beer," he said. He needed a lot more than just a beer, but they were out of real liquor for the time being (he had a sinking feeling that Cas poured some of his whiskey down the sink when he wasn't looking). He stopped halfway to the kitchen, though, and took off his jacket, pulled the little box from the right pocket. Cas was hanging up his own coat. He tugged his suit jacket down a little, loosened his tie so it went crooked.

Fuck, Dean thought. Now or never.

"Hey, uh, Cas?" Cas looked at him curiously. He had to sound pretty pathetic, but whatever. "We've known each other for a really long time, haven't we?" He edged a little closer, slowly. "I mean, it's been a really long time. I don't usually know people for long. I mean, Sammy, sure, but not other people. And, you know, it's been pretty great. Well, that's a lie - it was kind of shitty at first, but now, I guess I kind of like the thing we got going on."

"I am quite comfortable with our arrangement as well." Cas looked pretty calm, but earnest. His eyes were kind of bright.

"Yeah. And, I guess what I'm trying to say is…." Dean lowered himself to one knee and popped out that damn ring, tried to put on a classic Dean Winchester smile. "Will you marry me? So we can put each other down as spouses on taxes and the census and stuff? And if you ever get sick, I wanna be able to be there, you know? So will you be my No-Homo-Husband?"

There was a split second where it was silent and Cas looked pleasantly surprised, and then there was laughter, loud and strange, from the couch. Dean's head jerked to the side and he was met with two red faces hanging over the side of the couch, laughing hysterically. Fucking Gabriel and Sam.

Gabriel was practically wheezing with laughter, but through it, Dean could make out, "Oh my god- Didn't want to ruin the moment- but- so priceless- your faces-" and then all coherency dissolved. Dean got up, strode over to them angrily,

"What the hell are you two doing here?" he growled. He smacked them both upside the head for good measure, but they only laughed harder.

Sam, his face pinched up with tears running down his cheeks, choked out, "No-Homo-Husband!" and they both laughed that much harder.

"I'm going to kill you both. Slowly. No one will ever find the bodies. I swear-" Cas' hand on his arm made him stop, count to ten, calm down enough to go get a beer and regain a little bit of dignity. "Goddammit! I hate you both." When he came back to the living room, Sam and Gabriel had stopped laughing and were trying to catch their breath. Cas looked very uncomfortable.

Gabriel looked at Dean and smirked.

"Why are you even here?"

"You're kidding, right? I wouldn't miss it for the world, and it's not like I wouldn't bring Sam with me. You proposing to Cas? That's comedy gold."

"Fuck you. Get out. Both of you." Sam and Gabriel, laughing again, clutched at each other as they made it to the door. Dean fell into the couch, burying his face in his hands. It was the first time he really felt mortified in his life. Of course those assholes would be there for the most humiliating moment of his life. Of course.

A weight settled into the couch next to him, and a line of nearby warmth could be felt along his thigh and side.

In familiar gravel tones, "My answer is yes. If the option is still open."

Dean's hand slid down his face and he peeked at Cas with one eye. Just looked at him for a moment or two. He had just a hint of a smile around his lips and warmth in his eyes. Dean could stand seeing that face everyday for the rest of his life.

"Where do you wanna tie the knot?" he asked after a while.

Cas' face turned skeptical and confused. "I'm fairly certain it's possible to tie knots in most places." Of course. Classic Cas.

"It's an expression. I mean, where do you wanna get married? It's gonna be an out-of-state trip no matter what. There's nothing really in Iowa, and Massachusetts is kind of boring too. Really, everywhere's boring. Like Vermont? Who wants to go to Vermont? No one. It's cold and empty." He was babbling, but whatever. His life was fucking tough; he'd babble if he wanted to.

"On the television set, I saw something about New York legalizing same-sex marriage." Dean thought about it. There were things to do in New York. The city might be interesting.

"Yeah. Let's go with that." He thought for a second, then blanched. "How the fuck are we supposed to plan a wedding? I mean, I wasn't thinking about anything too big, but I don't even know where to start. Shit, women do this kind of thing. Women and really, really gay men." He cocked his head. "Maybe I'll talk to Sammy. I mean, do you care about the actual wedding bit? I was thinking more of a civil ceremony. But if you wanna go for the church and the dress with the train and the tiara, just know that I'll be taking pictures."

Cas gave him a blank, confused sort of look. "I have never seen a wedding before." Well, that sucked. They were both basically going in blind.

"Awesome. Well, we don't have to figure it out right now. No rush."

They sat, then, in silence for a time.

Dean thought about the thing he was most looking forward to: the bachelor party. He would be in charge of that, and it would be awesome. As much as he would like to do that in Las Vegas, that would be a detour on their way to New York, and since they'd be driving up (no way he was flying, fuck that) that would mean having the party, like, a week before the wedding itself. The whole point was to have the worst hangover in the history of the world when you were standing at the altar, as well as a few suspicious assorted reminders from the night before. At least that was what he got from the movies.


He woke up to hands smoothing his hair. The TV was on, low in the background, a movie he recognized as Star Trek, the new one, that Sam had a weird fascination with (he blearily recalled Sam's bitch-voice saying, "Don't you see? This is you and this is Cas!" and Dean responding with something like "Yeah, they're best friends" much to Sam's annoyance) and those hands were just idly stroking his hair. Like he was a lap dog or something. Kind of fitting, since his head was in a lap. Cas' lap, of course.

It was kind of gay, but then, they were technically kind of engaged now, so he figured he couldn't really make a big fuss about it for a while.

An explosion started to blossom on screen, and Cas' arm shot out, remote in hand, to turn down the volume more. It was his left, and Dean caught the glint of the ring on his finger. Silly.

Dean turned onto his back, startling Cas just a little bit, but he grabbed Cas' left hand before he could really do anything. He slid the ring off his finger, and Cas tensed.

"Come on, give me your other hand. You don't wear it on this one until we seal the deal." The correct hand was offered, and Dean put the ring on the right finger. "There. And I know it's kind of small, but I kind of figured only bitches cared about how big the rock was. You aren't a bitch."

"It's fine." Dean realized he was still holding on to Cas' hand and let go quickly. Bromance was one thing, but he wasn't really into hand holding or any of that nonsense.

"Well, I'm gonna go to bed. I'm beat," he said, and got up. "'Night."

When Dean pulled the covers up, he could have sworn he felt phantom fingers in his hair.