It was the day of Castiel's wedding, and Dean would have preferred staying home, doing some sketches and working his frustrations out on his metalwork. He was in the middle of a series of interactive sculptures and they had provided a welcome escape from thinking about Castiel. But he had promised the other Novak's, and they had brought him back to their mansion. There was a marquee erected in the grounds, and it was clear that Castiel and Meg were going to get married in his back yard. It was typical of Castiel, to not want the grandeur that so many would opt for with his kind of wealth.

Michael walked with him through the house, heading for Castiel's quarters, where he was getting ready.

"Do you know what you're going to say to him?" Michael asked politely.

"No idea."

"Castiel can be stubborn when he wants to be. It's best not to go at him head on."

Dean nodded, wondering if that had been Michael's approach with Castiel so far, and how it had gone wrong. Michael came to a stop and gestured at the door in front of them, then walked away with a small smile. Dean didn't bother knocking, but pushed forward into the room, and bit back a gasp.

The Novak's mansion was huge, easily the size of a mall. But despite the size, it was sparsely decorated, until you got into Castiel's quarters. His rooms were crowded with artwork. Paintings and urns filled the walls and floor space, and in pride of place was Dean's curlicue Mary. It was like standing in a gallery. Looking around, Dean could see so many pieces he had loved, so many works from other artists who were still growing into their potential. How did his brothers not see what Castiel was investing his money in?

He pushed forward, past all the stands and glass cabinets, and over to another door, which he opened slowly to reveal Castiel in front of a mirror, his collar sticking up awaiting a tie. He was looking down as he concentrated on folding his cuffs. He didn't notice as Dean shut the door softly behind him.

"Congratulations," Dean said softly. Castiel jumped, and whirled around, eyes wide open as he realized that Dean was in his room.

"Um, thanks."

"So, the wedding's in a couple of minutes?"

"Half an hour."

Dean could think of a few ways he would like to spend that half an hour convincing Castiel that they were right together. But he knew Castiel would not appreciate any it. Instead, he stayed by the door, gripping onto the wooden panels to stop himself grabbing at the scruffy-haired sex god in front of him.

"Why are you here, Dean?" Castiel sounded tired.

"Look, I know you hate me, I know you don't want me. I know you think I'm some kind of asshole. But I want to clear the air between us."

Castiel gestured to the giant bed and Dean sat down, sinking in to the luxurious covers. God, having sex with Castiel on this bed would have been so much fun … Castiel settled on the bed as well, a couple of feet away.

"I don't know where you got the idea that I was just in it for your money." Dean started, trying to keep his tone neutral. He didn't want a fight. "But I just wanted to reassure you that your money wasn't the draw. I haven't touched the money in my account. I'm too scared to; it doesn't seem real. I don't know how you cope with so much cash."

Castiel's lips were a thin line.

"And it wasn't that you were a Novak either. Not … I only read stuff that Sam and Charlie leave them around the house. I only know your name from those. The only thing I got from their magazines about you was that hardly anyone knew about you. And you were letting me in. I got excited by how much trust you were giving me, Cas."

Castiel looked away, at the floor.

"I don't know how I blew it with you. I don't know what I did or said to make you think I would be that guy. Last thing I knew was that we were both excited about seeing each other without money being an issue. I had dates planned. So, I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Castiel looked back at him for a moment, before dropping his eyes like it hurt to look at his face. Dean tried not to get upset over it. He knew from Gabriel, Balthazar and Michael that there was more going on than even they knew.

"I mean it. Whatever I did to upset you, whatever I said that you took the wrong way, I'm sorry it hurt you. And I hope that's not the reason you proposed to Meg. I know you're close, and … you deserve better than just settling, Cas. You deserve to be with someone you love. So I hope that you proposed because of her. Not to spite me."

Castiel still didn't answer, or look at him. Dean tried not to get angry. There was a chance that Castiel was processing everything, trying to think of something to say. Dean pushed on.

"I hope you have a good marriage, Cas. That she makes you happy every day. And that whatever else, you don't think of me and hate me."

Dean didn't know what else to say. He wished he could convince Castiel to leave the wedding behind, to just spend the day with him and remember how good they were together, but he knew there was no way it would happen. He waited for a few moments, before standing up and heading to the door. Castiel finally spoke as Dean reached for the handle.

"I don't hate you."

Dean whipped back around, as Castiel frowned at his dresser.

"I don't hate you either," Dean reassured him.

"But I'm still getting married."

"I figured. You have a lot of history with Meg."

Castiel nodded. They stood quietly for a few minutes, feet apart from each other, and Dean could feel the energy crackling in the air between them. It wasn't fair. Castiel finally looked up at him, and Dean forgot himself, or he couldn't hold back any more. He took a few large strides, cupping the back of Castiel's neck and capturing Castiel's mouth with his own. Castiel responded straight away, kissing him back almost feverishly, sliding his hands around Dean's waist as their lips grazed each other. Castiel was the one to slip his tongue through Dean's lips, licking into his mouth. Dean's breath stuttered, but he wasted no time in joining in, pressing closer, working his tongue against Castiel's, embracing the fresh taste of Castiel's toothpaste and the familiarity of his touch.

He knew this was going to break him. That he would pull away from this kiss, or Castiel would, and the wedding would still go on, and he would be in love with someone he had no chance of being with. He knew Castiel probably wasn't sure of him still. But he couldn't stop it, couldn't get enough of the clean scent of Castiel's cologne or the rasp of their stubble scratching together. If this was going to be their last kiss, he was going to make it count, make it something to remember.

He lost track of time, lost track of sense, lost everything to the feel of Castiel pressed against him. It was worth the last few months of pining just for this kiss. It felt like Castiel had wanted it just as much, missed him the way he had missed the intense billionaire. But he knew it was almost time for Castiel to appear in the marquee in the yard, and he forced himself to pull away, to leave behind everything he wanted. Castiel looked slightly dazed.

"I should go," Dean breathed, and turned around, leaving the room before Castiel had a chance to rouse himself or yell at him. He barely looked at Castiel's mini-museum as he walked away, and only began to slow down when he saw Gabriel in the hallway, loitering nearby. He gave Dean a quizzical look, and Dean shrugged in response before heading back down to the front door. Gabriel fell into step beside him.

"Don't give up yet, Dean. He hasn't said I do."

"I know. But I'm not going to beg him, and he's stubborn."

Gabriel patted his back in sympathy.

"So he was totally unreasonable?"

"No," Dean swallowed down the memories, fresh in his mind. If he lingered on that kiss, on how it had felt as if it could go on forever, then he might not be able to carry on putting one foot in front of the other. "We cleared the air."

"What does that mean?"

Dean shrugged.

"It means he's still getting married to Meg."

He sped up, not wanting to hear Gabriel's opinion about it all. It was time to bury his feelings for Castiel and find some way to move on.