Summary: His wings always seemed to be the problem, Castiel figured. But when he and his family move to Sioux Falls and he meets a Beast locked away in a castle, could his wings be the solution? Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabriel, Adam/Michael; fusion with Beauty and the Beast
A/N: Ugh… I fail at life. I am so sorry, everybody. I seriously meant to have this posted MONTHS AGO, but between real life kicking my ass and an epic case of writer's block that wasn't so epic… well, like I said, I'm sorry. Anyways, since I have now apologized profusely, I feel up to giving you more bad news. This isn't the last chapter. You see, I have the whole thing planned out in my head. Really, I know exactly what is going to happen in each scene. The problem is that this chapter just kept getting longer and longer and longer. And I wanted to post all of it together. I was being really stubborn about it too. Unfortunately though, while my writer's block has diminished somewhat, I am still not getting anything written because I don't have all that much spare time. Oh and the last 1500 words I wrote got eaten by my computer, so that was a bit of a setback. Anyways, I'll stop making excuses and get to the point. This is only the first half of the last chapter and as you can see, it is about twice as long as most of my chapters. I decided to post it, due to the fact that if I keep putting it off with the excuse that I want to post all of it together, it'll probably never get posted. *sigh* I hope that at least in some way makes up for not only the horribly long wait, but also for the fact that it isn't finished like I promised it would be.
To localicious: I'm sorry I asked for your opinion and then didn't wait for you to give it. You see, I'm going out of town tomorrow and won't be able to post. Somehow the thought of waiting those extra days after I'd pretty much made up my mind was just horrible. Thanks again for the great review by the way. :D
Chapter Eleven: 'Cause everytime we touch, I get this feeling
And everytime we kiss, I swear I can fly
Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last.
Need you by my side
-"Everytime We Touch (Yanou's Candlelight Mix)" CASCADA
Things in the castle had changed again after Dean and Castiel had their little meltdown. It wasn't what Sam would consider normal, but from what he'd heard of Castiel's behavior lately, he concluded that it was better than the alternative. As far as Sam could tell, both his brother and Castiel were pretty much back to their usual selves, but something was still off. While Sam didn't know Castiel well enough to determine whether or not he was acting strange, he could see slight abnormalities in Dean's behavior. His brother was calmer than he had been before the bond. He hadn't been doing as much defensive posturing and he wasn't as angry. At first, Sam had been worried that Dean was still suffering from the ill-effects of the bonding, but after watching his brother closely for a while, he had realized that it was really quite the opposite. Dean had actually matured by being bonded to Castiel.
It took Sam a few days more for him to come to terms with that insight and then when he finally had, yet another one had to come along and blindsided him. Dean was whipped. Sam laughed out loud at the thought. Sure, his brother was a great deal more mature thanks to the bond, but Sam had noticed this look that Castiel would give Dean whenever the angel seemed to think he was being inappropriate. Just one of those looks and Dean would shut his mouth and discontinue whatever activities had caused it. Oh, Sam was going to enjoy teasing Dean about this one—after the wedding though, when his mockery wouldn't have the power to pull Dean's commitment issues to the forefront.
It was actually really strange that Dean's relationship phobia hadn't come into play yet. Hell, Sam was still coming to terms with the fact that Dean—his brother, the infamous ladies' man, the guy who had once told Sam that he wasn't ever going to settle down with one girl, yeah, that Dean—was getting married. Sam hadn't thought all that much about either he or his brothers getting married prior to the curse. After it had happened, they had been confined to the castle and Sam had had other things on his mind. During the rare moments in which he had thought about it, he had always assumed that Adam would be the first of them to get married.
Sam chuckled when he thought back on that assumption and realized just why he had made it in the first place. He and Dean had pretty much acted as the equivalent of a chastity belt for Adam's virginity. His poor little brother had never stood a chance with the two of them looking out for him, and while he had almost felt bad about it at the time—he knew what it was like to be a hormonal teenager, after all—his guilt hadn't been strong enough to keep him from being a major cockblock whenever he had the chance. Because of this, Sam knew that anyone who wanted to get close enough to Adam for any kind of sex to occur would have to marry him.
Sam sighed. He knew that tactic wasn't going to work anymore. For all that Adam probably thought he was being discreet, Sam knew that his little brother had been sneaking down to Michael's room every night rather than staying in his own bedroom next to Sam and Gabriel. Sam knew that it was their fault and that Adam was probably just going to the other man's room to sleep, but he could also see that his brother and Michael were getting closer to each other and that thought both scared and angered him. Adam wasn't old enough to be a man. While he was sure that Adam and Michael hadn't actually had sex yet—apparently, overprotective older brothers just knew these things; Dean had only needed to take one look at Sam the morning after his first time before asking him how much a girl had to be paid before she was willing to go lesbian—but Sam was sure that it was coming. He found himself mourning the impending loss of his brother's innocence.
Sam's thoughts were suddenly drawn back to Dean's wedding when he saw two huge stone statues of his brother and Castiel being wheeled slowly and carefully into the castle. He couldn't help but blink in shock and almost went over to the window to get a better look before he realized that he would probably be seeing the statues up close and personal later. Sam shook his head. Dean had made the mistake of saying that he didn't give a fuck how he and his angel got married as long as neither one of them was forced to parade up the aisle in a dress. Somehow, that had lead to Anna declaring herself in charge of the wedding planning and the rest, as they say, was history. Dean had actually complained about it, saying that it was weird for someone he had slept with to be planning his wedding. Sam had told him that he should either suck it up or plan the damn thing himself. Needless to say, Dean had shut up and stopped complaining to Sam.
Sam was rudely jerked out of his musings a moment later. He huffed in surprise as he suddenly found himself with a lapful of Gabriel. Sam looked at his boyfriend for what turned into a very long minute and was unable to resist the temptation to lean forward and give him a kiss. A throat cleared and Sam looked up to see Dean and Adam glaring at them from across the dining table.
Before Castiel, Dean would have been the one to speak first, but as things stood, Adam was the newly appointed hot head in the family. "I get the fact that you two are sex addicts but do you think you could put a hold on doing shit like that while I'm trying to eat?"
Sam saw the look on Gabriel's face and knew that he wasn't going to like whatever came out of his lover's mouth. He cringed when Gabriel started speaking. "All right, we'll knock it off," Gabriel sighed in resignation. Sam did a double take. Wait, what?
He watched Gabriel with a wary eye for the rest of the meal, but the man was being unusually well-behaved. Everyone was able to eat in peace for a change and while it was nice, Sam couldn't help but be apprehensive. As it turned out, his suspicions were well-founded.
The moment Adam put down his fork, Gabriel sidled back onto Sam's lap, completely ignoring the fact that his boyfriend was still eating. "Hey, baby," Gabriel said lasciviously, adding in a dramatic waggle of his eyebrows for good measure. "It's been so long since I've seen you all covered in my wax. What d'you say we go find a candlestick and I'll light you up from the inside?"
Everybody gaped at them and Sam couldn't keep a flush from rising to his cheeks. I knew this was coming, he groaned internally. He spent a few seconds trying to imagine ways in which he could have prevented this, but then he remembered that he wasn't actually the target this time.
Sam looked over at his little brother. Adam was staring at them like everyone else, his mouth opening and closing in shock and his face turning a shade probably redder than Sam's own. Sam could almost see Adam's brain attempting to process what he had just heard and failing. He finally seemed to get his wits back, but he didn't speak. Instead, Adam stood, grabbed Michael's hand, and stormed out of the room.
Adam was pissed. As if it wasn't bad enough that his brothers were such assholes, Sam had to go and get a boyfriend that was way worse than even Sam and Dean combined. Sure, sometimes his brothers were bastards, but Gabriel took everything to a whole new level. As Adam fumed, it occurred to him that Gabriel hadn't been this bad before he got together with Sam and he found himself wondering whether their relationship had allowed him to reveal his true nature or if Sam just had a way of turning people into jerks. This thought made Adam pause. The idea had merit. After all, look at what a lifetime with Sam had done to Adam and Dean.
A sharp tug on his hand reminded Adam that he was still latched on to Michael and had been dragging the man out of the castle with him. He flushed with embarrassment and dropped Michael's hand as though it had burned him. Adam could feel Michael watching him but he didn't turn to look. He wasn't sure why he had brought Michael with him in the first place and though the other man was surely waiting for an explanation, how was Adam supposed to face him when he had none to give? At the time, it had felt natural—Oh, I'm leaving. Obviously Michael is coming with me.—but now he just felt awkward. He and Michael's relationship had been progressing, but the man was moving so slow, Adam thought he would probably be old and grey before he made a move. It was as though Michael thought he was going to scare Adam away if he touched him in any way that couldn't be construed as perfectly innocent. Like Adam didn't wake up every morning with Michael's erection pressed against his ass.
As if Adam would object to anything Michael wanted to do to him. He suppressed a snort. Yeah, right. He would probably beg for it if that was what Michael wanted from him.
The feeling of a hand slipping into his own brought Adam back out of his thoughts. "Where are we going, Adam?" Michael asked.
Adam's palms started sweating—as they always did when he was nervous—and he had to resist the urge to pull his hand from Michael's to wipe it on his pants. He could feel the heat coloring his cheeks again and rather than turning to look at Michael, he started walking. "Stables," he grunted. Michael didn't answer, but quickened his steps a bit to match Adam's stride. Adam squeezed Michael's hand in a gesture of gratitude and, though he would deny it if asked, his heart fluttered when the other man's hand tightened around his in return.
When they arrived at the stables, Adam let go of Michael's hand momentarily so that he could throw open the doors and then he dragged Michael over to one of the stalls. Though he still wasn't in the best of moods, Adam couldn't help the grin that spread across his face when the large black horse stuck her head out to greet them. "Michael, this is Impala." He lifted one hand to rub the horse's nose gently as he introduced them. "Impala, this is Michael." Adam looked over at Michael who listened with rapt attention as he explained, "I always come visit her whenever I'm upset. Even when I was a teacup and I couldn't groom her anymore…" Adam's grin softened into a smile full of affection as he turned back to Impala. "Even then, she was always there to listen." He fought the urge to throw in some kind of sarcastic comment, anything to cover up the loneliness that Adam was sure Michael could hear behind his words.
Michael and Adam stood quietly for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Then, Michael reached one hand forward to lay it on the horse's nose. Impala whickered and shied away from him, causing Adam to let out a snort of amusement. He grinned at Michael. "Impala's really picky about who touches her. She's gotta know that you know how to take care of her before you get that honor." He patted her neck affectionately and then looked at Michael speculatively. "I'll let you in on a little secret though," Adam continued with a small smile. "She's got a weakness for Winchester boys. If you do a really good job at sucking up, I might be willing to put in a good word," he teased.
The smile Michael gave him in return blindsided him. In the time that they had spent together since the battle, Adam had never seen Michael's lips do anything more than twitch in amusement. But now, he was smiling—lips pulled back, teeth gleaming, eyes crinkling—and Adam couldn't help thinking that Michael was beautiful. Adam was used to making rash decisions and this time was no different. All he wanted at that moment was to touch the man in front of him. Acting quickly so that he wouldn't have a chance to talk himself out of it, he pulled Michael in front of him and wrapped one arm securely around his waist. Extending his other arm, Adam reached out to cup the back of Michael's hand in his palm, threading his slim fingers through the other man's larger ones and bringing their joined hands up to rest on Impala's flank. "She really likes it when you scratch her here," Adam whispered as Michael's eyes caught his and held them.
Adam leaned forward in another burst of impulsive action and touched Michael's lips with his own, allowing himself a moment of internal triumph and glee when Michael's mouth started moving almost immediately against his. Adam's eyes closed instinctively as he lost himself in the feeling of being kissed by Michael. The kiss remained almost innocent for a while, just their lips moving together slowly, but then Michael's free hand moved up to Adam's face, his fingers slowly caressing. Adam gasped at the sensation, his mouth opening a bit wider under Michael's, and suddenly there was a passion in their kissing that the teenager had never felt before.
Michael took control of the kiss and for once Adam was happy to drop his mask of independence and follow someone else's lead. Michael slipped his fingers free of Adam's—their hands had long since fallen away from where they had been resting on Impala—and lifted his head, effectively ending the kiss. Adam whined in protest. The teenager had barely enough time to acknowledge the embarrassment he was feeling—Fuck, that noise came from me?—before Michael was spinning him around and slamming his back into the wall next to Impala's stall. Then their lips crashed together again and what few cognizant thoughts Adam had left were buried beneath a rush of sensations that overwhelmed his mind. Adam moaned, the parting of his lips allowing Michael to explore his mouth. He felt the tip of Michael's tongue trace across the roof of his mouth before pressing into his soft palette. Adam moved his own tongue forward to slide it over Michael's, tentatively, as though he were for some reason asking for permission. He felt a rush of ridiculous relief less than a second later when Michael not only allowed it, but pressed back into Adam passionately, with his hips as well as his mouth this time. Adam felt Michael's hardness press against his own and his back arched in an unconscious attempt to get closer.
Michael broke off the kiss abruptly, leaving both of them panting, and slumped forward, resting his cheek against Adam's shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. Adam's head fell back against the wall with a thump and he allowed himself to just rest there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of Michael's warmth against his own. Then Michael spoke for the first time since they had left the castle. "If you ever need someone to listen who can actually talk back…"
Adam's mind still wasn't functioning at full capacity, so he wasn't sure what Michael meant at first. Soon enough though his memories of what had happened before the kiss filtered back into his head and he understood what Michael was saying. You don't have to be lonely anymore. You have me now.
Just the thought of what Michael was implying caused warmth to spread over Adam's body. His lips twitched up into a soft smile and he leaned his head forward to kiss Michael on the cheek. Then, Adam nuzzled his nose into Michael's hair, his mouth hovering over the other man's ear so that Michael was sure to hear him when he whispered, "Thank you."
Dean Winchester was amazing in bed. In Anna's opinion, he was the best she ever had. Many years ago—before the curse, before the angel, and most importantly, before Joshua—Anna would have jumped at the chance to repeat her four day (two hour and twenty-one minute) fling with Dean. Sure, that might have made her easy, but hell, Dean Winchester was just that good. If someone had told her all those years ago that she would one day be planning his wedding… Well, let's just say that angels aren't the only ones who know a thing or two about the business of smiting.
Needless to say, it was sort of… surreal that she was now in charge of planning Dean's wedding. Even stranger was the fact that she had pretty much forced Dean and Castiel to accept her help. She hadn't really thought about it until later that day, but she now realized that this was a form of resolution for her. Though she hadn't been pining after Dean like a lovesick teenager, Anna had considered Dean her best for over a hundred and fifty years and really, that did something to a girl's psyche when it came to letting go and moving on.
Planning Dean's wedding was a necessity if she wanted to find a love of her own someday and that was all there was to it.
Wedding planning was more difficult than she had ever expected it to be. Anna couldn't just randomly select everything and hope it all fit together properly at the end. If she did that, she was sure that the whole affair would crash and burn just as horribly as if Dean planned the thing himself. No, this wedding was going to be perfect. Anna would make sure of that.
So, she had set about making a list of what exactly she would need to get to make it happen. The task was even more daunting when it was written down. There would have to be food and drinks and some sort of musical entertainment for the reception, as well as the cake and the decorations, not to mention invitations—she would have to compile a guest list, which meant she would have to talk to each member of the extended Winchester family—and finding a priest of some sort to officiate, plus the flowers and the clothes and the damned two week deadline…
Okay, okay, stop, she told herself. Yeah, there was a lot of stuff to do, but she was up to the task. It wasn't like Dean and Castiel were likely to notice little mistakes here and there unless she messed up in a big way. Let's just start with something small. She looked back down at her list. Flowers… that's a good place to start. And with a reminder to herself that she wasn't going down there just to stare at Joshua, Anna headed off to the gardens with rejuvenated good humor.
Some time later, Anna peered over at Joshua surreptitiously as he showed her around the garden—as though she hadn't seen it a few thousand times over the years—and they discussed which type of flowers should be used at the wedding. He was currently stooped over, holding up the bud of a red rose for her to sniff as he explained its meaning to her. "Red roses have long been associated with passion and love," he told her softly. Anna held her breath as their eyes met and he continued. "It is a classic symbol that has been used countless times over the years."
There was a momentary pause before Anna realized that he was waiting for her to speak. She let out the breath she had been holding as quietly as possible before saying, "Somehow I don't think that classic is really what best describes Dean and Castiel." Anna searched her mind for words that could describe just what the man and the half angel seemed to mean to each other. "They are… more. They fit together in ways that I've never seen two people…" Anna's voice took on a hint of wistfulness as she continued. "They look into each other's eyes and—I know it sounds clichéd—but it really is as though they're one."
Joshua looked at her speculatively for a moment before turning away and gesturing for her to follow. He lead her over to a rather colorful row of tulip plants and, as he crouched down in front of them, he pulled her down as well so that Anna was kneeling beside him. "These are variegated tulips. In general, tulips are used to represent a perfect love, a love that overshadows all obstacles that lay before it. This one in particular has a secondary meaning." Joshua reached out and cupped a delicate red-streaked yellow bud with one hand. "It means beautiful eyes," he said softly, his lips twitching up into a small smile.
Anna's breath caught once more. She was at once both startled and yet unsurprised by Joshua's level of insight. "Thank you, Joshua," she breathed. "They are perfect." And if they stared at each other for a bit longer that was strictly necessary before she went back to her strict, wedding-planning schedule, well, she wasn't going to complain about it.
Dean groaned and rolled over, slamming his pillow down over his face as the early morning sun started coming through the window closest to the bed. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to bury himself back into the rumpled sheets of his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Sleep had been hard to come by the night before and… Dean's eyes flew open and he went from a state of semi-consciousness to total awareness as he remembered the reason he had lain awake for hours last night.
Today was his wedding day. In practically no time at all, Dean would be standing up in front of a rather limited—yet still daunting—number of guests and promising to love one person for the rest of his life. What the fuck had he been thinking? He was Dean Winchester. He wasn't cut out for even the smallest of commitments let alone 'til death do us part'. He couldn't go out there in front of all those people and pretend that he was.
Dean's breathing quickened and his pulse raced. It wasn't a panic attack—Dean Winchester didn't do panic attacks—but it was getting dangerously close to one. What the fuck was he going to do? There was no way he could get married today, and yet the thought of the look this revelation would put on Cas's face…
Cas. Dean's thoughts came to a halt. His chest loosened and his heartbeats slowed to a normal rate as he remembered just who would be standing up next to him at the altar. He was marrying Cas. This wasn't one of his random hookups or even one of the short-term girlfriends he had had back when he thought love was an uneven combination of lust and affection. No, this was Cas and, now that he knew what love really was, he realized that his angel wasn't anything like the girls he had been with before. Those relationships—he wasn't even sure if he could call them that—had been based on sex.
Not that the sex hadn't been fucking awesome—it had been, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't have been trying to build relationships around it—but still, the point was that what he had with Cas was most likely going to be ten times more explosive than any of the coitus (heh, coitus, Dean thought, that is such a Cas word) he had engaged in previously.
He paused for a moment as he realized that he had just thought the words Cas and coitus in the same sentence, then let out a frustrated groan. Damn, it had been way too fucking long since he had gotten laid and thinking about sex in any context reminded him of the fact that tonight would be the first time for he and Cas. Just the thought of the things he wanted to do with his angel was making Dean's dick start to harden. Fuck, what would happen when Cas touched him? At this rate, he would go off like some adolescent virgin who had just learned that his right hand wasn't going to fucking cut it anymore. God, that would be so fucking embarrassing. Not that he really thought Cas would care all that much. After all, unlike Dean, Cas was a virgin and probably wouldn't know the difference if the whole thing was over in less than five minutes. But hell, Dean didn't want Cas's first time to be a quick fuck. This was his Cas, his angel. Everything had to be perfect.
Dean took a calming breath as he tried to push coherent thoughts through his lust-addled brain. There was a simple enough solution to his problem. All he had to do was jerk off right before he and Cas left the reception. Dean was sure that by that point in the day, Cas would have already unknowingly made sure that he would need to. Really, Castiel had to be the most oblivious cocktease Dean had ever met. He had noticed it before they were bonded, but now that his awareness of Cas seemed to be multiplied tenfold, Dean realized that every single thing his angel did, from the open mouthed kisses—which Cas was getting way too good at—to the way he buttered his toast, was fucking sexy as hell.
His situation wasn't improved any by the fact that Cas had told Dean that they weren't allowed to do anything more than kiss until after they were married. Soon after they had settled the bond two weeks ago, Dean had made the mistake of pulling Cas into his lap while they were making out on one of the couches in the library. When the kisses had become more heated, he had instinctively moved his hips up against the ones straddling his own and for a moment, he felt his dick press against Cas's through their clothes as the angel thrust back against him. A second later, Castiel was gone and Dean was opening his eyes in confusion. Cas had been standing in front of him, panting, his fists clenching and unclenching as though he were trying to keep himself from touching Dean again, and his wings fluttering in agitation. Dean remembered gaping at the angel, his brain attempting to process and come up with something to say. Finally, his mouth opening and he spat out, "What the hell, Cas?"
Even weeks later, Cas's response still made him want to laugh almost as much as it made him want to cry. "Dean," Cas had said. "I have perused several sources in an attempt to familiarize myself with human bonding rituals. According to many of the books I consulted, tradition dictates that the 'bride' must wear white and that this is a reflection of her chastity before the wedding. I am well aware that our union is by no means standard, however I would like to observe human customs where I am able and as I have yet to participate in sexual intercourse, I believe that we should observe this one."
Dean had stared at him in slack-jawed astonishment. "But… Cas, a bride is female. We're both guys."
Cas had tilted his head. "I fail to see how this is of import. It is customary that one of the parties getting married wears white. Based on your age, I am relatively confident that you do not qualify…" The angel had paused for a moment to confirm his assumption and then continued when Dean nodded. "…and as I do not suffer from humanity's preconceived notions on masculinity and gender, I have no objection to being a bride."
Dean hadn't said anything. He had really wanted to laugh—after all, the thought process was just so Cas—but at the same time, there was a part of Dean that had the overwhelming urge to just ignore Cas's request and seduce the hell out of him. Almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he discarded it, ashamed with himself for thinking that way. Dean knew Cas would give into him eventually if he pressed—and he would enjoy it too—but he also knew that Castiel was probably using the 'white wedding' fantasy to cover up the fact that he wasn't ready to have sex yet. Dean had been inside of Cas's head and though he didn't know everything there was to know about his bondmate, he had gotten a feel for how Cas's mind worked.
The angel was fucking terrified of sex. This wasn't something that he could learn about through books. Not really. It had to be experienced personally and that would require Cas to make himself vulnerable on a level that he had never been before. Rushing Cas wouldn't help that in the long run. Dean would just have to wait until Cas came to him on his own terms.
Dean's musings had been cut short when he noticed Cas shifting nervously as though waiting for Dean to speak. He had raised his head and given his angel a small smile. "If that is what you want Cas…" he had agreed softly. Cas's eyes had been shining with relief and gratitude and, being Dean Winchester, he hadn't been able to resist using humor to change the subject. Cas's expression turned to one of wariness as he watched Dean's smile turn into a teasing grin. "Sam will be so happy when he finds out that he gets to dress you up like a pretty princess for your wedding day. Maybe he'll even let you borrow one of the tiaras from his collection." He had let his voice drop to a whisper and leaned forward as though imparting a great secret. "And if you're really lucky, he'll let you wear the matching shoes."
As he lay in his bed, Dean laughed out loud as he recalled the look of pure horror that had been on Cas's face when Dean finished speaking. It was just one of those things that he loved about Cas. His angel didn't have the most apparent sense of humor—no matter what anybody said, it did exist—but even when he wasn't trying, Cas was fucking hilarious. Between his reactions and the way that, whether he was book smart or not, Cas still didn't understand half of what was said to him, Dean knew that the rest of their lives would be full of laughter and love. And really, Dean thought. What more could a guy ask for?
When Dean finally dragged himself out of bed a while later, he was surprised to find that he had spent at least two hours lost in thought. Thank god his brothers would never find out about it. Dean would never hear the end of it if they did—Dean knows how to think? Hell, I didn't even know he had a brain. Dean snorted. At least he knew he could count on Cas to back him up on that one.
The moment he stepped out of his room, Dean was cornered by Sam and Anna. "Finally," Sam huffed. "I thought you were gonna sleep all day."
They pushed Dean back into his room and closed the door behind them. "What the fuck?" Dean spluttered. "Sam, god damn it, let me the fuck out! I'm hungry." Sam didn't answer, just shoved a pastry at him with one hand and a cup of steaming hot coffee with the other, before moving over to help Anna rifle through Dean's closet.
Dean gaped at them for a moment, barely able to process the fact that his brother's masculinity had slipped just that much closer to being nonexistent. Dean had to wonder whether the signs of Sam being gay had gotten more obvious over the years or if he had just been completely oblivious before being cursed.
A commotion drew his attention out of his thoughts and back to Sam and Anna's conversation. For fuck's sake! he thought in exasperation when he realized that they were arguing about which shirt color would best complement Dean's skin tone and eye color. In what universe did they think that Dean Winchester would ever wear a color called chartreuse?
The smell of coffee hit his nose, wafting up from the cup in his hand and reminding him of how hungry he really was. Dean looked down at his fucking delicious smelling breakfast, then back over at Sam and Anna. Did he want to eat or decide which color would 'make his eyes pop', as Sam so eloquently put it? Yeah, no brainer. He shrugged and decided that his stomach would always be more important, especially compared to this shit. They were going to dress him in whatever the fuck they wanted anyway. What was the point of getting involved when Dean was damn sure that in the end, his opinion wasn't worth jack shit?
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of clothes and flowers and shit that Dean didn't really give a fuck about. By the time he was making his way up to the make-shift altar with Sam and Adam—wearing that fucking chartreuse shirt, god damn it—Dean had come to the decision that he had better make this marriage to Cas count because he was never going to go through another god damned wedding again. Hell, if it hadn't been Cas he was marrying, Dean was sure that none of this shit would be worth it.
A throat cleared beside Dean and he looked over to find the source of the noise. A short man with a beard stood beside him, dressed in a set of neat-looking priest's robes that somehow failed to hide the sense of utter disorder that surrounded him. As Dean surveyed him, the man fidgeted in agitation before opening his mouth to speak. "I'm, um, Chuck?" the man stuttered. "I'll be, um, performing the ceremony." Chuck moved his shoulders restlessly and his hand twitched several times in the direction of his chest before he gave up on controlling the impulse to reach into the fold of cloth to pull out a metal flask. He took a healthy swig of the flask's contents before holding it out toward Dean. "Holy water?"
Dean grinned. Hell, yeah. This was his kind of priest. None of that 'holier than thou' bullshit. He extended his hand to take the container, but before his fingers could so much as make contact, it was snatched away by a much smaller, much quicker set of hands. "Charles Shurley!" a young woman shrieked. "What do you think you're doing?"
Chuck looked down. "This is my wife. Um, Becky?" he introduced.
"Dean," he grunted. Becky ignored him.
"Chuck," she said seriously. "We are at a wedding, one which you are presiding over. The only spirits you should be full of today should be the holy spirit."
Chuck tried to protest. "But, Becky, they are holy spirits! I blessed them this morning!"
She gave him a withering glare, then turned to focus her attention on Dean. Fortunately for him, Sam stepped forward and interrupted. "Hey, it's really nice to meet you guys, but the wedding is supposed to start in, like, five minutes and we really need to…" Becky's gasp cut him off, causing everyone to look over at her. She was staring at Sam as though he were the meaning of life itself and well, to be honest, Dean thought it was more than a little bit creepy. Becky reached out one hand and let out a moan that sounded vaguely like a dying bird. Sam looked over at Dean in alarm. "Why is she looking at me like that?" he asked warily, edging back behind his brothers.
"You should ignore her?" Chuck advised them, still somehow managing to sound unsure of himself as he grabbed his wife and dragged her back behind him. "She gets this way sometimes." He turned to Becky and, though it was apparent that Chuck was attempting to keep his voice down, Dean could still hear him hissing, "Becky, focus! It's not every day we get asked to perform a wedding." Becky's eyes flitted away from Sam and narrowed in on her husband, before going wide again. She reached out a hand and tentatively started petting Chuck's priestly garb, all the while making ridiculously creepy cooing noises at him. Chuck grabbed her hands gently, but firmly in his own. "Love, this is no time for the appearance of Becky, Fangirl of the Lord. She's only supposed to come out when we're alone, remember?"
Dean looked away from them quickly and shared a horrified look with his brothers. Before he could comment on it however, Anna hurried up to him and said, "Castiel is on his way down. Everybody take your places."
Dean turned his back to the altar and jumped with surprise when he realized that the few chairs that had been put out for the members of the audience were already full. He swallowed nervously and straightened his spine reflexively. Why the fuck was everyone staring at him?
His discomfort vanished the minute Cas came into view. Dean's eyes widened and his mouth went dry and his palms began to sweat. It was all so clichéd and yet Dean didn't give a shit because Cas was there and he looked like a… well, an angel. Cas was dressed in white—which was expected—and blue—which was not—but, Dean hadn't anticipated just how fucking awesome his angel would look.
Dean didn't pay all that much attention to clothes. He supposed that after years of not wearing them, clothes just really weren't all that important to him. Besides, if there was one thing he had learned from being cursed, it was that the inside of a person was what really mattered. After all, sometimes the prettiest of faces hid a demon bitch just waiting for her unsuspecting victim to drop his guard.
Anyway, the point of the matter was that Dean hadn't really paid all that much attention to what Cas wore on a day to day basis. Really, whenever he did take note of Cas's clothing, Dean was usually calculating whether removing said clothing would be quicker than simply tearing it to shreds. And though he had noticed that Cas had a tendency to wear clothes in very bland colors—Dean didn't think he had ever seen Cas wear anything besides various shades of tan and black—he really hadn't thought all that much about how his angel would look wearing something else.
At the moment, Cas was wearing a pair of white dress pants, a brilliant blue long-sleeved formal shirt, and a fitted white vest. Though it was almost exactly the same as what Dean was wearing—the only difference being that his pants and vest were black and his shirt was chartreuse—Dean could say with utmost certainty that the odd combination of clothing didn't look nearly as good on him as they did on Cas.
Needless to say, white suited Cas. It had the singularly unique ability to highlight both the dark hue of his hair and wings as well as the pale coloring of his skin. And the blue… Dean had always had a thing for Cas's eyes and the blue shirt he was wearing made them stand out. Dean suppressed a shudder. How the fuck was he supposed to last until after the wedding with Cas looking like that?
Dean didn't notice that several moments had passed since Cas's arrival until Bobby was removing the angel's fingers from the crook of his elbow and placing them in Dean's hand. He didn't even have enough time to regret the fact that he had apparently missed Bobby walking Cas down the aisle—it would have been great material for teasing Bobby later—before Chuck was starting the ceremony.
Dean grasped Cas's hand tightly with his own and met the angel's gaze. Chuck's words washed over him but, though he tried to concentrate on them, somehow his whole world was caught up in Castiel's eyes and nothing outside of them seemed to make sense. Because of this, he was at a loss several minutes later when Sam kicked him hard in the back of the leg.
"Ouch," he yelled, turning around to glare at his brother. "God damn it, Sam, that hurt!" Then Dean noticed that everyone was staring at him. "Shit." He swung back around to look at Cas who was looking back with warm, amused eyes, as though he knew exactly what had distracted Dean and found it fucking hilarious.
"Dean?" Chuck asked hesitantly, right as Dean was leaning forward and examining Cas's lips with way more focus than he should be at this point in the wedding.
Dean jerked back and swallowed thickly, turning his head toward Chuck. "Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?" he said gruffly. "Aren't we supposed to be getting married?" Chuck floundered for a minute, but eventually did as Dean asked.
In an effort to keep his concentration, Dean tried to keep his eyes away from Castiel for the rest of the ceremony. Needless to say, Sam had to kick him again five minutes later.
Bobby groaned. He should've known that idjit Dean wouldn't be able to resist messing everything up somehow. The damned fool hadn't even had much he was supposed to do. The officiator performed the ceremony, read the vows, and all Dean had to do was repeat them. But no… he had to go and get lost in that non-existent thing he called a brain.
Bobby barely resisted the urge to get up and smack the boy when he heard Dean start swearing at his brother. In the middle of his son's wedding ceremony. Bobby gritted his teeth to prevent himself from causing an even bigger scene by adding in a few choice words of his own. He looked over at Castiel and, though he really shouldn't have been, Bobby was surprised to see that his boy was simply staring at Dean fondly as his partner fidgeted nervously and ran his mouth like the god damned idjit he was.
Okay, Bobby thought a bit regretfully. Maybe I'm bein' a bit hard on the boy. While there was no doubt in Bobby's mind that Castiel's soon-to-be-husband was an idjit, he also had to admit that Dean was growing on him. The problem was the fact that Dean was marrying Bobby's son and, well, Bobby still wasn't sure how to let Castiel go.
Until Lucifer, Bobby had never really feared that he would lose Castiel. The boy never left the house, so it wasn't as if he was going to just go out one day and never come back and, though he didn't say much, when he did speak, Castiel had always been one to say exactly what he was thinking—usually in the bluntest way, with the worst possible timing—so Bobby had never worried that his son would get unhappy and run away. After he had found out about the danger Lucifer was to Castiel, Bobby had suddenly needed to face the thought of losing his boy. Castiel had left home. He had been trapped in a castle and gone into battle. Hell, Castiel had even been killed—or so he thought. But even so, those weren't the same type of loss and, if he were being honest with himself, Bobby would say that even after he had found out just how Castiel was supposed to be able to break Dean's curse, he had never really even entertained the thought that Castiel would actually fall in love with Dean.
So, really, maybe he was the idjit. The signs had all been there, Bobby just hadn't wanted to see them. And even after he had seen them… Well, by this point, Bobby had had a while to get used to the thought of Castiel and Dean, and it said something about his mind's penchant for denial that he hadn't expended any effort to actually do so.
Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, Bobby knew that he wasn't really losing Castiel, and yet, at the same time, he couldn't keep his more emotional side from feeling like he was. And somehow, these feelings had decided to express themselves by making Bobby act like an over-protective bastard engaged in the never-ending struggle to protect his daughter's virginity for the rest of his life. And then even when he died, Bobby thought he might actually come back and attempt to do it for the rest of his afterlife as well.
Bobby snorted at that thought, almost unable to believe that this was what he was reduced to. It was pathetic.
He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard Dean speaking. Bobby's frustration with Dean came back almost immediately. What the heck was that idjit saying now? In fact, why was he even speaking at all?
A moment later when he realized that Dean was saying his vows, Bobby felt a hint of regret for thinking so harshly about his almost-son-in-law. Not that he would ever be willing to admit it, but still the feeling was there. As he deliberately turned his thoughts from his own inner turmoil back to his son's wedding, Bobby couldn't help but wonder why no one had told him that Castiel and Dean were writing their own vows.
"Castiel," Dean said, his voice somehow managing to broadcast clearly to everyone present even as his tone went soft and intimate. He paused for a moment, frowning slightly, then corrected himself, "Cas. Things have been pretty fucked up ever since we met. Well, no, truthfully, things were fucked up on my end way before you came along. But, yeah, even though we didn't meet under the most… ideal of circumstances, we still managed to pull through. We saved ourselves and each other and our family, and to me, that's one of the most important things—that we're all still here and together." Dean took a deep breath before he continued. "But today isn't about that. It doesn't matter what our families think—although if they don't approve of us, I might have to knock some heads together." Bobby was surprised when Castiel let out a low chuckle upon hearing Dean's threat. Bobby had never thought that Dean and Castiel would go well together—after all, no one would ever be good enough for his son—but maybe they were better suited than he had originally thought. "What does matter is that I love you and you love me and I want to make you mine in every way I can. I might not have wanted to admit it at the time, but I was hooked on you the moment I saw your eyes." Dean reached out a hand and put it on Castiel's cheek. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper when he spoke again. "When I found out that you had a sense of humor, well, I knew I wasn't going to make it out of this the same as I went into it. You've left your mark on me Cas, and no, I don't just mean my shoulder. You left a mark on my soul and my heart and my mind, and I hope…" Dean's voice broke and tears filled his eyes. "I pray to the heavens you must have fallen from that I've left a mark on you too."
Then, it was Castiel's turn to say his vows, but Bobby didn't need to hear them. The emotions were clear on the boy's face and really, after hearing what Dean had to say, Bobby knew that he couldn't live in denial any more. His son just may have found the one person who would love him more than Bobby could and if that was the case, then he had no other options.
Bobby listened as Castiel professed his love for Dean and silently gave them his blessing.
A/N: Okay, well, that was the first part of chapter eleven. Did I tell you guys that the informal title for this chapter was 'The Second Coming of Castiel'? I know it didn't happen in this part, but Dean and Cas's sex scene was actually the first thing I wrote when I started this chapter.
The second half of this chapter—which includes the aforementioned sex scene—will most likely be just as long as this part. I just need to write it. That's where you guys come in. I'm going to need a shit-ton of awesome reviews to motivate myself. The more reviews you give, the sooner you get the smut. What do you say, guys? Are you up for it? ;D
A/N 2: For anybody who doesn't want to read the sex scene, you could reasonably stop reading here and not miss too much. The next part is basically just the reception and the sex scene. Although I wouldn't consider the fic complete without it, my beta told me that I had to let you guys know that you could skip over all of my hard work if you really want to. Yes, I'm trying to guilt you guys into reading it. Is it working?