**I am so sorry it took ages to update! My muse has really been on the ball with turning this into a novel and writing that kind of took over for awhile. Also, we've just gotten a car back! YES! Hope you guys are still out there and willing to R&R, it makes my week when you do! And aww, Himeco, I've missed you guys too!*

Author's Note:

AIFHFNDBSHSJASANSGDHDJ. EVERYTHING IS LCA AND NOTHING HURTS.

HIMECO1: I LOOOOOOOVE YOU! OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD. Those sketches are beautiful! I absolutely love them, and if you don't mind I would like to take the camera one and add that scene into this :D They are just so amazing and I can't BEGIN to say how much I adore them! And of course, thank you so much for your review last chapter!

Everyone, head to my profile to check out two new Lights, Camera, Action sketches!

Okay, okay. Now. Reply time!

Casismyfavorite: Thank you so much! It makes me happy to know he's portrayed well as an abuse victim, thanks so very much for your review :D

LV: Thanks for reviewing! I worried Dean's reaction didn't feel right, so thank you for telling me you like how it worked out!

Hikarilightz: As always, thanks a million for your awesome feedback! Sorry for all the abused!Cas angst, it's over now, promise XD

Alrighty, that covers it, I believe. I hope I didn't miss replying to anyone, anonymous or signed! If I did please let me know so I can apologize profusely and grovel for forgiveness. Anyways. The beginning of this is Dean's POV on the end of chapter twenty, and then we get into fluffy land. As you all know, I love you more than words can say for your limitless support and enthusiasm!

And of course, thanks so much to the lovely Micala, who edited this chapter :-)

"And all the roads we have to walk are winding

And all the lights that lead the way there are blinding

There are many things that I would like to say to you

But I don't know how

'Cause maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me

And after all, you're my wonder wall…"

~Wonderwall by Ryan Adams

Dean was a lot of things. A flirt, a slight man whore. A model and occasional con artist. Conceited, more often than not. But he wasn't a liar. Hence, he wasn't going to say it didn't feel like someone had driven a knife into his heart and twisted it when he discovered the truth about just how good of a friend Crowley was to Cass. When he looked up into the older man's dark, devilishly serpentine eyes and seen that he was serious, he'd fled the room. Pulling his hand free of Castiel's as the photographer stared up at him pleadingly had been damn near impossible, but he knew if he lingered that he would say or do something he would regret. Again. Taking a breather and having to turn down Cass was a lot better of an option than hurting the fragile stability he had finally formed with the photographer he had broken so badly once before.

When he heard Castiel approaching, seeing Cass in his peripheral vision, he received mixed emotions. Partly happy to see Cass as he always was, a little angry no matter how irrational it may be, and perhaps more than a bit dejected. None of these feelings subsided even as Castiel asked if Dean hated them. Calmly, Dean replied with a flat laugh that he didn't know how anyone could ever hate Cass. As the conversation continued, he stared deep into his lover's eyes and realized why things always seemed to end with them butting heads. It wasn't always due to them messing up beyond repair, but because they became so frustrated that no matter what the other did, it ended up being forgivable when they came to the inevitable conclusion that they were simply too reliant on each other to hold a grudge for the rest of their lives. Try as they might, and as angry or hurt as they may get, Dean knew they could never truly hate each other.

In the mindless lack of thought following Carnevale, Dean had let it slip from his mind what he had learned just before he revealed himself to Cass. But when he raised his hand to comb his fingers through his hair, one marginal gesture brought it all back. Castiel flinched. Such a tiny motion, insignificant in any other context. To Dean, though, it was anything but. He thought back to the way his heart sunk at hearing of the abuse Castiel had suffered in college, but even that couldn't compare for a split second to the way it felt to see the love of his life shy away as if Dean would strike him. Eyes closed in acceptance and head turned in submission. Dean's hand fell slowly back to his side as the implication of Castiel's position. A hot stinging in his eyes told him they were filling with tears, but he barely noticed.

"Oh God…" Dean murmured. He pulled his sweet, scared Castiel's trembling hands to his chest and shook his head in disbelief. He felt a tear caress his cheek. "Cass, no…oh no, sweetheart, not ever…"

He was patient as Castiel stared down at their clasped hands. Castiel's frightened eyes began to brighten, shallow breaths turning to even ones. He inhaled deeply and let it out. When his eyes met Dean's, they were…freer. Lacking a wall Dean hadn't realized was there until he thought back to the carefully guarded man he had met and fallen in love with. Under those layers of protection he saw the Castiel he'd known was there from the beginning. The beautiful, vibrant man that was entirely unafraid of the world. A hard shell had encased that person, and Dean was starting into Castiel's eyes in the seconds it took for it to crack. It dissolved into nothing right before his eyes. Cass spoke, and his voice was low but not timid. Dean was reminded of the night prior, when Castiel told him he wanted Dean inside of him unsheathed. His eyes presently held that same fearless assurance.

"Dean…will you tell me again?"

"Tell you what, Cass?" He chanced pulling Castiel a little closer and felt some tension unknot from his shoulders when Cass offered no resistance.

"Tell me you love me?"

Dean smiled, thumbs stroking the tops of Castiel's hands. He leaned forward and kissed his photographer's forehead. His lips continued to move, from Castiel's temple to the sleek angle of his cheekbone, to the velvety skin beside his nose. He lingered, inhaling the familiarity of Castiel's breath. Tenderly, he kissed Castiel's lips. He was loathe to break the kiss and instead opted for speaking into it.

"Castiel Novak, I love you more than I can ever say. More than life, more than anything else in the whole world. I love you so much, gorgeous. And I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

It was complete honesty. He couldn't stand the thought of being separated from Castiel, could hardly bear the thought of hurting him the way he had over Bela. Through the good times and the bad, for better or for worse, he wanted to spend the rest of his days by Castiel's side. Even had the romantic notion, one that was quite unlike him, of them going grey together. He knew that they could live to be a hundred and he wouldn't love Cass any less than he did right at that very moment. His heart and - melodrama long forgotten - soul sung as Castiel stepped forward and deepened their kiss with all of his heart shining through it. Dean framed his face with his hands, fingers brushing away strands of unruly hair. He felt Castiel smile, felt fingers circling and holding his wrists.

When it could no longer be avoided, they parted for breath. Dean took Castiel's left hand and lifted it, kissing the faint lines intersecting across his palm. He folded his fingers around Castiel's more fragile ones and tugged his photographer forward, mirroring the smile Cass wore. Castiel followed without hesitation, leaning against Dean's side as they walked. He was smiling like he had not one care in the world, and for the rest of the day, Dean planned to assure that he didn't. Bored and waiting for Carnevale, he had went through the brochures laying on the desk at his hotel. There were countless places he wanted to take Cass, and he wouldn't be satisfied until they went to every single one of them. Life had been a bitch to them for more time than he could recall, so it could suck it up and be put the fuck on hold for awhile.

The first surprise of the day was Dean catching a water taxi, refusing to tell a very curious Castiel where they were going. Cass smiled and sat next to his model, grin broadening further when Dean extended his arm. He tucked himself under it and snuggled happily into Dean's side. Not wanting to go back to their room to deal with Crowley and knowing going back to Castiel's place would be more or less futile because his clothes wouldn't fit Dean, the model had shrugged and simply suggested they buy some new ones. Wasn't like they could spend all day in their long sleeved dress shirts in the humid air of Venice. Adamantly refusing to let Cass pay for a dime of it, he took them shopping, picking up odds and ends of clothing in different shops until they both had a complete outfit.

Cass had blushed the same color as his new scarf when Dean told him how "fucking sexy" he looked in his new attire. His eyes had darkened lustfully as they traveled from Castiel's legs, hugged by dark denim, up to his torso, swathed in a V-necked black T-shirt that molded to his abdomen, to the smooth lines of his neck and shoulders, accentuated by a black leather jacket and a long scarf the color of fresh blood. All of these elements combined complimented every one of Castiel's most attractive features. Dean's more casual approach of washed out jeans and a white tank top was no less flattering. Castiel had looked him up and down and gave a wistful sigh, telling Dean that if they weren't in public, he may very well ask Dean to have intercourse with him right then and there. Dean, used to his boyfriend's old-fashioned terminology, had laughed and gave Cass a playful, teasing kiss. A taunt for the present, a promise for more later.

The jacket had been a splurge. Castiel didn't need it, and it now lay folded across his lap. The air was warm and dry, but he had seen it and taken to it instantly. He had also thought it a frivolous purchase and moved on. When he exited the store, Dean followed closely behind, and because Dean was Dean, he had bought Castiel's jacket for him. It was little things like that one simple gesture that made Cass melt from the inside out.

For all his arrogance, Dean was the kindest, most thoughtful man Castiel had ever known in his life. He wouldn't say that was the only side of his model that he loved, admittedly. It was not only his caring nature, his randomly sweet gestures. Also, it was his sense of humor, the direct approach that was the perfect balance to Castiel's shyness, his confidence that made Cass feel more sure of himself as a result. It was that man, the one that was all of those things and more, both tough and sweet, that Castiel had fallen in love with. The impossible enigma of a person that had found his way into Cass' heart from day one. One of the most wonderful things about Dean was that one second he could make Castiel laugh with his crude jokes that, at some point, Cass had become fond of, and then the next could be an unshakable rock of determined conviction when Castiel needed comfort or reassurance.

"What are you thinking about so hard over there? Doggy style? Handcuffs? A laxative, maybe? As intense as you look I'm gonna guess you're either horny or constipated."

…And sometimes, Castiel just wanted to slap him.

Cass was wriggling with anticipation when the taxi finally slowed to a halt. He practically leapt off, Dean giving a quiet chuckle and following close behind. Castiel skidded to a surprised halt when he felt sand under his shoes. Then, looking up at down the length of the beach, his eyes widened almost comically. He knelt and sifted the white sand between his fingers. Dean could only grin, though he "humph"ed when Castiel threw himself into Dean's arms with every bit of exuberance in his body and twice his strength. Dean spun him around, both of them laughing for no reason at all other than the sheer joy of being happy. Happy with life, happy with each other.

He could only assume Castiel had researched Venice before he came here, because he seemed to recognize Lido right away. An eleven kilometer sandbar, Lido was as rustic as mainland Venice but had a sense of being away from reality. It was breathtakingly beautiful and nothing short of authentic Old World. Dean had guessed Castiel would love it here, and he was obviously correct.

Too dizzy to remain upright, Dean lowered Cass onto the beach and leaned over him. As Castiel smiled up at him, eyes sparkling, he was taken back to another moment that felt like it was so long ago, another time when his heart was fluttering around in his chest at the sight of his photographer.

"Why are you staring at me?" asked Cass, breathless from laughter.

Dean kissed him softly. "I was thinking about the first time I ever saw you smile this way. The first time I ever saw you truly happy." In a quieter tone, he added, "I think that was when I started falling in love with you."

Castiel didn't know what to say to that. He blushed, like he had done under Dean's stare the first time this episode had happened. Just as he did the first time, Dean wound his fingers in Castiel's mussed hair and stroked it slowly. Cass closed his eyes and probably could have fallen asleep right there on the beach. Dean had other plans, such as exploring Lido, so he pulled his photographer back to his feet and gave him one more quick kiss before leading him up the beach. Castiel's fingers linked with Dean's, feeling as pleasantly tiny and fragile as they ever had. It reminded Dean of the emotional fragility he had seen in Castiel until recently.

But when Dean looked over at him, he saw nothing but strength. And he couldn't be more proud.

Nor could he be more in love.

They spent the day in Lido, and Castiel was loathe to leave by the time Dean practically hauled him back to the beach. They had two towels, which they laid out on to wait for the water taxi. Cass grinned, extending his hand and wiggling his fingers. Dean laced his fingers with those reaching towards him and smiled back at his ecstatic photographer. Today had been a page from a fairytale, torn from its book and thrown into the winds of realism. He almost had to wonder if it was a dream, if life was honestly capable of such perfection. Then, turning his head to look at Castiel, porcelain skin bathed in the fading Venetian sunlight, he realized that he was in love with the living proof that life was capable of that perfection. He had never seen a being more flawless and stunning than his Cass.

"Dean…this day has been amazing. Thank you."

"You're welcome, gorgeous."

They again fell into a companionable silence. Dean tried not to let his palm sweat against Castiel's. The closer it got to time, the more nervous he was getting. There was only two possible outcomes, but one of them horrified him. Seeing Castiel's smile, seeing his skin painted in hues of soft reds and oranges, he knew that he would never be okay without this man in his life. He had come to feel a dependency on Castiel that both scared and thrilled him in the knowledge that it was a reciprocated need. Which is why he prayed to the deities he didn't really believe in that the following day didn't go as wrong as it had the potential to.

"Cass?"

Eyes of sapphire opened and looked over to meet his. "Yes?"

"Would you spend the rest of your life with me?"

"In a heartbeat."

Dean leaned over and kissed his photographer soundly. That was all he needed to know.

Crowley was nowhere to be found when they got back to the hotel. All the better to Dean, though he could tell Cass was a little worried. That was still his friend, in spite of everything Crowley had done. It wasn't enough worry to preoccupy him, because he smiled happily when Dean said he had one more thing planned for them. The opposite of Castiel's carefree joy, Dean was nothing but frazzled nerves. As they dressed the following day, his trembling fingers refused to cooperate and button his jeans. Castiel stopped halfway through pulling his shirt on and walked over with a concerned frown.

"Dean, is everything okay?"

"It's awesome," Dean replied quickly.

"You're shaking…"

"No I'm not. I'm, just, uh…"

Cass saw that he was uncomfortable and didn't push it. He still looked puzzled but didn't press the matter as he pulled the small metal button through the hole on Dean's jeans. Dean sucked in an involuntary breath as the photographer's fingers applied accidental pressure. They had both come home too exhausted for sex last night, but now he was starting to "perk up," so to speak. He leant his hips forward into Castiel's hand and groaned at the contact. Cass looked up at him and must have seen in his eyes what he wanted, because he forcefully pressed his palm to Dean's crotch. He wore a small smile of satisfaction as his lover bucked into the touch. His fingers slid past the waistband of Dean's jeans and beneath his underwear to find the bare skin of his growing erection.

That little smirk did it for Dean. He was brought to full hardness by the talented fondling of his cock and the confidence he saw in Castiel's darkening eyes. Lust shot through him and left an aching, throbbing need that pulsated in Castiel's hand. His reservations fell to the back of his mind as he shoved Cass into the wall, kissing him senseless. Castiel responded aggressively, gripping Dean's hair and tightening his grip on the model's hardness. Dean grabbed Cass and pushed him up the wall until Castiel caught on and locked his legs around Dean's waist, one ankle crossing over the other. Dean took Castiel's wrists and pinned them above the photographer's head, heart racing in time with the blood rushing down his body.

He thrust his erection forward against Castiel's, who cried out and used his legs to hold Dean against him. Dean repeated the motion, harder this time, relishing the desperate noise it tore from Castiel's throat. Cass tried to free his wrists, but Dean held them in a vicelike grip. He settled for rocking forward, meeting each of Dean's thrusts, giving a hoarse shout of raw pleasure. Dean repositioned himself so that when their erections met through the confines of their pants, he was striking the softest, most sensitive part of Castiel's cock. He angled his hips just so and brought them up forcefully, applying so much pressure to that nerve laden area that Cass screamed out his name. He made sure he hit that same spot every time.

Castiel's feet had slid under the hem of Dean's shirt, so he could feel the photographer's toes curl tightly against him. The friction between them was becoming unbearable, and his body was tensing as he was drawn to the brink of climax. Sweat formed on Castiel's chest, laid bare by his open shirt. Dean traced the smooth angle of Castiel's clavicle with his tongue, increasing his rhythm until each thrust was met with a scream. They were both shuddering and jerking, bodies unsure how to handle such overpowering sensation. He drank in the sight of Cass, having never seen him this wanton and unraveled.

But under the mere motions of sex and need were currents of something else; it was in the way Castiel cried out Dean's name, lingering in the way Dean's thumbs rubbed soothing circles into Castiel's wrists without either realizing he was doing it. In the beginning, sex had faded into love, then their love began to fade back into sex, and now, even as detached as it appeared to be, sex had become lovemaking regardless of where, when, or how roughly it happened. No amount of brainless fucking in the world could override how much they loved each other, and it shone through in tiny, caring gestures they exchanged throughout.

They climaxed together, screaming the other's name at the height of gratification. Dean couldn't speak for Cass, but he came harder than he ever had in his life. Judging from the rapturous expression on Castiel's face, it was mutual. Dean's fingers went lax on his wrists, which slipped down but were soon brought forward as Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. His face leant down to rest in the crook of the younger man's neck, fitting with such perfection that it seemed like one was molded to fit the other. The soft pads of his fingers ventured into the thin hair smattered across the nape of Dean's neck.

Castiel sighed serenely, letting the weight of his body rest in Dean's arms, trusting without hesitation that Dean wouldn't allow him to fall. Dean smiled into his hair and carried him over to the bed, laying him down on the still rumpled blankets. He joined him on the bed and opened his arms, Cass wriggling into them and burrowing so close that it was a miracle he didn't disappear into Dean's side. He tucked his head under Dean's arm and snuggled as close as gravity and the laws of physics would allow. Castiel slid Dean's shirt up and started trailing butterfly kisses down the sunkissed skin of his lover's ribcage. Warmth poured into Dean's heart at the gentle affection. Any and all reservations he had harbored for his afternoon plans melted away in an instant.

"So, feel up to going somewhere today?" he asked.

Cass looked up at him and smiled. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"Another one?" Castiel laughed. "Lead the way."

Redressed in fresh clothes and basking in the glow of love and afternoon sunlight, they set off for town, hand in hand. Dean told himself that the humid air was what caused his palms to sweat but he was aware of his own lie. He was going through with this no matter what, but that didn't mean it didn't scare him shitless. First, they wandered about going in no particular direction, just seeing the sights. They stopped for lunch and discussed their favorite places so far. Dean looked subtly down at his watch and saw as they finished that it was time. The afternoon, like a fine wine, was growing better with every passing moment. But it was time to draw the day to a close with what Dean hoped to be nothing less than a perfect ending.

His throat was dry as parchment by the time he had guided Cass to one of the glimmering, calm canals in the heart of the city. They didn't have long to wait for a gondola, so he was spared any further questions Castiel may have had about where they were going. He was glad for this, worried that if he tried to say anything, it would come out a rather undignified squeak.

He boarded the gondola first, then held out his hand to Cass, who took it with a smile. They sat close and Dean put his arm around the older man's shoulders. Sunlight brought out the coppery colored highlights woven in Castiel's hair, and Dean threaded his fingers appreciatively through the glossy strands. Cass leant his head into Dean with a sound almost like the purr of a cat. Dean chuckled. For a few minutes, they rode in easy silence, watching the buildings go by them with interest, Castiel raising his camera a couple of times to snap a photograph.

When Dean looked over at the viewing screen, he could make out even with the sun's glare that, unsurprisingly, they were stunning. Anyone could take a snapshot of a colorful building, but it was the way Cass could manipulate the angle, the passion evident in his work, those were what made the images special and unique unto themselves. Whether it be a cameo or a carefully planned portrait, Dean viewed each of Castiel's pictures as individual masterpieces. It was no wonder Cass had found his way up the latter so quickly; he had a natural talent that, once it had been honed with education and practice, could not be matched.

"Oh my God…" Castiel suddenly whispered, grabbing Dean's bicep. "That's…"

Dean smiled upon realizing they had reached the main attraction. "The Bridge of Sighs. Once leading to a prison, they would take the condemned across it and they would sigh as they took one last look at the beauty of Venice before they died. And they say that if you kiss beneath it at sunset, you will have everlasting love and bliss."

Unless the lighting was playing tricks on Dean's eyes, then there was the shine of tears in Castiel's eyes. "That's…beautiful, Dean. I didn't know you could be so romantic."

Oh, gorgeous, I'm just getting started. They were nearing the bridge at a leisurely pace. Dean turned to face Castiel, and took the photographer's hands in his own. They became lost in each other's eyes for a long moment. Finally, drawing from every reserve of courage stored within him, Dean took the plunge into what could be happiness beyond comparison or, and his heart sunk at the prospect, the ultimate shattering of him, right down to the soul. This was no exaggeration when paired with the vulnerability he felt.

"Cass…I knew from the very first time we were together that you were different. That you weren't just another man, another notch in the headboard. There was something about you that got under my skin. And the longer we were together, the harder I fell for you. I live for your smile, and my heart skips a beat every time I hear you laugh. You turned me into the man I never thought I could be, and even when I hurt you, crushed you, still you gave me another chance. Somewhere along the way, during all of the confusion and the pain and the sex that I tried to tell myself didn't mean anything…I fell in love for the first time in my life.

"Every night, when I was a child, my mother read me a verse from the Bible. I never really got into it, I've never been much one for church. But knowing you has taken me back to the last one she read me before she died, the last words I ever heard her say. And I think maybe, she knew that one day I would remember it. If anyone could know the kind of person I would fall in love with, it was Mom. Which is why, when I thought back to that night, I thought of you."

Dean's voice was starting to break. Inhaling shakily, he proceeded to say, "'Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.' I guess what I'm trying to say is…" He withdrew the box from his pocket, opened it to reveal the ring sparkling in its depths. "Castiel Novak, will you marry me?"

The tears trailing down Castiel's cheeks were ones of joy, of a love shared between them. "Dean…oh, Dean, of course I'll marry you!"

Dean smiled, a smile that was echoed on Castiel's face, and he slid the ring onto the correct finger on Cass' left hand. It was his mother's engagement ring, resized to fit Castiel. He rested his forehead against Castiel's, their gazes still locked.

Sunset painted the sky a blur of oranges, yellows, and vibrant reds.

And, as the gondola passed beneath the bridge above, they kissed.