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The first kiss: Breaking a curse
“There had to be something that made you turn into this.”
“I don’t know!” Dean roared at his brother—quite literally.
Powerful as it was, Castiel’s grace didn’t break the curse that had turned Dean into a chimera, and a complicated one at that: he had the head of a buffalo, the mane of a lion, the tusks of a boar, the brows of a gorilla, the body of a bear, and the legs and tail of a wolf. Only his eyes retained their familiar shape and hue, a vibrant green.
Dean made a very nice chimera.
But with the apocalypse at hand, they didn’t have time for him to be in such a state.
“What did you do?”
“I said I don’t know!”
“Recount it from the beginning, from when you first met her.”
Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes before cursing and blinking out the fur. “The chick came on to me. We went to her place to do what grownups do, but I saw witchy stuff so I prayed to Cas for you guys to come help. You did, we ganked her, and I came out like this!”
“Did you touch anything?”
“I already told you I didn’t!”
Sam sighed and combed his hand through his hair. “Well, sit your ass down and help us research.”
Dean tried, but he couldn’t fit into the motel chairs, and when he attempted to perch on the bed, it creaked precariously. Neither were made for bears.
He settled on the floor in a huff, which turned into a whine as he started flipping through a book.
“What’s the problem now?”
“Gee, I dunno, Sam, maybe it’s that I’m a fucking monster?”
“Besides that.”
“Besides that,” Dean mocked. He turned to Castiel. “Can you believe him?”
Unsure what answer Dean was seeking and unwilling to set him off more (he was grouchier than usual), Castiel replied, “Is your form making research difficult?”
“My claws keep shredding the pages,” he grumbled.
Castiel nodded. “Claws aren’t designed for reading, I’m afraid. It’s one reason why I take a human vessel here. That and the fact that my true form would be too terrifying.”
Dean brows formed a vee in the middle of his forehead. “Thought you were all light and intent and stuff.”
“I am, but I appear as a chimera in physical form unless I take a vessel. The nature of my form is different, however. I’m mostly an amalgam of wings, eyes, claws, and flames.”
Dean slowly licked his lips as he nodded, and even Sam seemed impressed, staring at him with his mouth agape.
Castiel felt the phantom flapping of his wings. He was proud of the reaction he got, particularly from Dean, and his wings reacted in kind in the ether.
He nodded back at Dean as he took the book and repaired it with a pulse of grace. “We can look together.”
Eventually, Dean’s grumpiness and his new form proved too exhausting, and he fell asleep on the floor curled into a ball.
When Sam noticed, he closed his computer and stretched his neck. “It’s always something,” he muttered.
Castiel had to agree. The Winchesters had a penchant for finding trouble.
Then again, heaven and hell had brought some of it to them.
Sam folded his arms and lay his head on them, his eyes coming to rest on Dean. Castiel’s eyes were drawn to Dean, too—they always were—and they stayed there until Sam chuckled.
“He looks like Beast.”
Castiel frowned. “He is a beast.”
“No, I mean Beast. From Beauty and the Beast. It’s a movie.” He paused. “Wait a minute. That witch had a lot of Disney stuff in her house. I wonder…” He opened up his computer.
Uncertain what Sam’s new idea was, Castiel stretched his hand out to Dean’s leg and stroked his fur. It was a beautiful light brown, similar to his hair.
“Cas.”
“Hmm?”
“Kiss Dean.”
Castiel frowned at Sam. “Why?”
“I think it’ll break the curse. With everything we know about this lady, my theory is that she somehow cursed Dean to be the beast in the movie, probably as a last shot before we killed her.”
“And why would I need to kiss him?”
Sam became fidgety, jiggling his leg and tapping his pen. “I—I just think it’ll work. Belle doesn’t kiss Beast in the movie, at least not when she saves him, but she says something to him about their, uh, their profound bond, and…uh, I just think, since you said you guys have a profound bond but aren’t, you know, able to talk at this point in time…yeah, a kiss might work. Please?”
It seemed like a silly way to break a curse, but not unheard of, and though Castiel was certain Sam wasn’t telling him all the salient points, he trusted him. “All right.”
Castiel crouched down in front of Dean. He petted him again, admiring the silky fur. He hadn’t known the insouciant vessel of Michael long, but he did feel connected to him in a profound way. He hoped it would be enough. Carefully, he leaned forward, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder at the last moment before kissing his forehead.
He withdrew as Dean’s chimera form melted away, leaving Dean the way he was most familiar with him on Earth. Dean slept on, unaffected by his transformation.
Oddly, Castiel felt transformed, too, though he couldn’t name why.
“I thought so,” Sam murmured.
“Thought what?” he asked, still gazing at Dean.
“That it would work.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s not tell him how it happened, though, okay? He might freak out at the whole ‘fairytale ending’ thing.”
Castiel turned toward him and nodded.
They let Dean believe it wore off on its own and continued hurtling toward the apocalypse.
The second kiss: Casting a spell
“I’ve got almost everything we need!” Sam shouted above the din of churning water and screaming.
Charon, the ferryman for the River Styx, was at the center of the chaos, compelling humans he deemed dishonest or otherwise lacking into the turbulent Missouri River. Driving his actions, as far as Castiel could tell, was the madness of being around sins and evil for millenia. It had broken him, and Team Free Will had to put him back together.
No weapons could touch him and Castiel’s powers were weaker than usual, still suffering the effects of his stolen grace even after his own grace was restored. The spell Sam had found was their only hope.
“I thought you had it all!” Dean yelled in reply, doing his best to keep people from flinging themselves into the water while Castiel did his best to keep Charon from noticing him do so.
“There’s one last thing! C’mere, I need you and Cas for it! Hurry!”
Dean shot Castiel a look. He could practically hear the What the fuck is he going on about in Dean’s gruff voice.
“Maybe he needs our blood. Come on, before anyone else gets hurt.”
That was enough for Dean to move, though he dragged the young woman he’d been trying to help up the embankment with him.
Helping anyone he can for as long as he can, Castiel thought with a rushed sort of fondness. He’d dwell on that and many other of the hunter’s qualities later. First, they had to save everyone else.
Dean stuffed the woman into the Impala, then hurried to where Castiel had stood himself across from Sam. “What’re we doing?” he asked his brother.
“Kissing.”
Dean’s face screwed up in disgust.
“Not us!” Sam shot back, sparing enough time for one of his “bitchfaces,” as Dean called them. “You and Cas.”
Castiel thought he might understand the rationale—the power of their profound bond, as once before—but Dean certainly didn’t. “Why?”
“It’s just part of it!”
“We’re not making some kind of deal with Styx, are we?”
“Like you’ve never made a deal to save lives,” Castiel muttered with an eye roll.
“Hey”—Dean poked him on the shoulder—“Shut up.”
Exasperated, Sam shouted, “It’s not a deal, it’s a spell. Can we get this done before more people drown?”
“Look, we’ve gotten into deep shit before, and I’m just trying to—”
With Charon growing wilder with power by the second, Castiel yanked Dean into a kiss.
The fire in the pit they’d dug flared as soon as their lips touched, a spiral seeking its target.
Castiel broke the perfunctory press of lips to race back to the river, rescuing as many as he could as fast as he could with what angelic strength he still possessed. Soon, Dean was by his side. Together, they pulled people from the agitating water to the light of Charon’s fury at his capture.
They never spoke of the kiss. There was nothing to say.
Castiel, however, filed it in his mind to revisit often—sometimes with longing, sometimes with regret, neither of which he understood.
The third kiss: Healing a wound
Sam sat in the infirmary, grimacing as Eileen cleaned and bandaged his wounds. In the next bed, Mary reclined against propped pillows, a cold pack on her face. A couple of beds down, Dean lay unconscious.
Castiel felt tremendous guilt, because he was the reason they were injured in the first place.
A group of men looking to revive the British Men of Letters thought it would be a boon to have an angel on their team, both as a partner and as bait. When he refused, they forced him anyway, capturing and subduing him before putting the word out that an angel would be sold off to the highest bidder.
Creatures of all sorts came to participate in the barbaric affair.
But the Winchesters came, too, and despite the odds, they limped out with Castiel in tow.
“I wish I could heal you,” he murmured to Dean, palpating a wound he couldn’t yet repair. The spell used to keep Castiel under their control still had another twelve hours, from his calculations.
Dean didn’t answer.
Eileen attached the last clip to the gauze, then kissed the length of Sam’s arm, ending at his knuckles. “There you go, all better,” she declared.
He smiled at her warmly.
Castiel frowned at them, confused. “Did she…heal you?” he asked Sam, as Eileen wasn’t looking at him and he didn’t want to leave Dean’s side. Her tone had sounded light, but Castiel couldn’t be certain if she’d been joking or not. She must have been, he reasoned, because humans couldn’t heal like that, but still, he wanted to be sure. If there was a way to mend Dean immediately, he wanted it done.
Sam shot Eileen a mischievous smile as he told her what Castiel asked. He didn’t understand why it was mischievous, but he recognized it from the many times Dean had pointed the same smile at him right before teasing him about one thing or another. Perhaps it was a Winchester trait. Those smiles felt different coming from Dean, though, and the sparkle in Dean’s eyes…well, that was different, too, somehow.
“She didn’t actually heal me,” Sam answered.
Turning to face him, Eileen added, “People give kisses to injured areas because it’s emotionally healing, since people are traumatized by injuries. It’s often something parents do for their kids, but I think it’s good for adults, too. Don’t you think so, Sam?”
“I do,” he replied with a wink.
“I see,” Castiel replied thoughtfully. Dean could certainly use some emotional healing. Despite all the times he’d healed him physically, he was never able to stitch up his emotional wounds in quite the same way. “Would you be able to do that for Dean? I think he would…benefit.”
Her eyes softened. “It’s more effective coming from someone who’s closer to him.”
Castiel nodded, then turned to Mary. “Mary, you’re his mother. Would you do it?”
She took off her ice pack and glanced at Sam and Eileen, then answered with a small, wry smirk, “I think that’s your job now, Cas.”
“She’s right,” Sam grinned.
“Oh.” He twisted his trenchcoat in his hands. “Is this related to our bond?”
“Absolutely,” Sam answered. Eileen and Mary nodded.
He hummed, but didn’t make a move.
Later, though, when he and Dean were the only ones in the infirmary and Dean still hadn’t stirred, Castiel decided to try the humans’ method.
He considered how he should approach the problem. Eileen had kissed Sam atop his bandages, so it seemed it wasn’t necessary to make skin-to-skin contact with the injuries to soothe the emotional wounds. But he figured that having the bandages, plus clothing, plus bedcovers may be too many layers (Winchesters did love their layers), and Cas usually touched Dean to heal him, anyway.
Making a decision, he carefully removed the blankets from Dean’s feet and kissed the bruising around his bare ankles. He shifted to Dean’s knees and kissed each of them through his sweatpants, as he didn’t want to disturb him by attempting to remove them. He moved to his stomach, gently pushing aside his clothes to kiss the bruises from multiple punches and the laceration from a demon blade. On his chest and neck, he scattered kisses like rose petals at a wedding. He skated his lips down each arm and gave special attention to his hands, which were littered with cuts. Each knuckle received a palliative peck; each crease a curing caress.
Dean’s face was the last to cover.
Castiel breathed deeply. The gentle kisses all over Dean’s body was doing something to him, something that made him warm and uncomfortable, something he wished with a sudden ferventness that he could explore more with him.
Maybe the kissing was a bad idea.
But he wanted to make him feel better, wanted to give him everything he could, wanted…wanted.
He brushed his lips over the cut on his left brow, the bruise on his temple, the scrape on his cheek.
Dean’s lip was split.
Castiel pulled back, considering whether he’d given enough kisses to maximize the healing effects, when Dean’s eyes fluttered open.
He frowned, lapped at the stickiness of leftover blood inside his lip, and looked at Castiel. “What’re you doin’?” he mumbled.
Had he felt the kisses? Castiel couldn’t be sure, but he felt vaguely guilty, only then considering that perhaps Dean would disapprove of kisses, even if they were for healing purposes. He sat up straight and folded his hands in his lap. “Trying to fix you the only way I could.”
“By kissing me?”
So he had felt them. Castiel cleared his throat as he braced to defend himself. “I was told by your family that it was healing to the psyche to kiss humans’ wounds. I can’t heal you for a few hours yet, but I…I could do this, so I did.”
As Dean squinted at him, Castiel’s grace tumbled around, agitated. He wondered if he should apologize, though he didn’t feel sorry. How could he feel sorry for doing everything in his power to help?
He was about to say it just to keep the peace when Dean huffed and smiled that little half-smile he did sometimes, the one that suggested he was pleased. “Thanks, Cas.”
That warm, jumpy feeling was back. “You’re welcome.”
The fourth kiss: Luring a creature
“This is ridiculous.”
Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. He agreed with Dean’s whispered complaint about the suit (despite how incredibly handsome he looked in it, it was terribly inconvenient for a beach wedding), but Dean had been complaining about everything related to the case and his role in it. He didn’t even want to play the part of groom at first, arguing with Sam about it:
“Can’t we get two other hunters to do it?”
“And put them in danger?”
“They’re equipped to handle it.”
“Fine, if you want to have that on your conscience…”
Dean sighed. “I don’t.”
“Then it’s gotta be two of us, and I’m not fake-marrying my brother.”
“Agreed eight million percent.”
“Right. But look, if it bothers you that much to marry Cas, I’ll do it—”
“No way in hell. I’ll marry Cas.”
“Good plan,” Sam had said with a smile and a thump on Dean’s back.
It was dirty to use Dean’s sense of responsibility and sacrifice to get him to agree, but it was effective. Though Castiel knew their profound bond would make their ruse more believable and thus draw out their target, he almost wished he were “marrying” Sam instead. The younger Winchester would bellyache a whole lot less.
Castiel tugged at Dean’s tie to straighten it as he replied, “Ridiculous as it is, we have to play our parts to lure out the siren.”
“I know, I know.”
“It’s not like we’re marrying for real, Dean.”
Dean’s jaw ticked. He rolled his shoulders as he stepped away and wandered toward the window in the storage room of the restaurant they’d broken into. “Yeah, I know.”
“And it’s almost over. All the planning, the shopping for rings and cakes, the putting on a show. All we have to do is get through the ceremony and reception alive.”
He tapped his fingers on the window frame. “Yeah.” Exhaling, Dean turned and stuck out his hand. “Let’s get hitched, I guess.”
The two of them stepped outside, where their friends stood on the beach waiting. Conveniently, they were all hunters, so this siren who craved the high of one newlywed killing the other didn’t have a chance in hell of escaping.
Human wedding ceremonies had certainly evolved over the years, from basic agreements made by others for the sake of some kind of advantage to the flowery, romantic declarations and promises to stay together not for the purpose of continuing a bloodline, but simply because of love. It was a nice improvement, Castiel thought.
If only it were true in their case.
Well, it was half-true. His half. He’d figured that out recently.
Still, they pledged their promises and exchanged their rings.
After a few more words, Jody Mills, their fake officiant, finally closed her book and said, “It’s my great honor to present to you Misters Dean and Castiel Winchester. Gentlemen, you may share a kiss to begin your new lives together.”
Dean was trembling, his eyes shiny and wild. It saddened Castiel that he was this upset over a ruse. But perhaps it had nothing to do with him, Castiel considered. Perhaps it was something Dean longed for—a partner, a family, someone who cared about him for him and chose to be with him. An apple pie life, he called it sometimes.
Castiel cupped his cheeks and kissed the corner of his mouth before drawing him into a hug and whispering, “You deserve to have this someday, Dean.”
When they pulled apart, tears hovered on Dean’s lash lines.
Castiel smiled at him, about to reiterate what he’d said, when he saw something behind Dean’s shoulder.
“It’s here,” he murmured.
They clasped hands and walked down the rock-edged aisle of sand, signaling to Sam and the others.
The reception was bloody.
But at the end, the hunters were alive and there was cake to eat.
The fifth kiss: Saving a life
There was no time left. No time to try a relationship. No time to have a real wedding and a house with windows. No time to live.
But there was just enough time for Castiel to tell Dean how special he was. That he was a good man. That everything he did was for love and that Castiel loved him dearly, completely, beyond the profound bond created in Hell between celestial rescuer and terrestrial rescued.
The odds of his plan working were fifty-fifty, at the very best. It could backfire spectacularly, in fact: Billie could get them first. The Shadow might not show up, or it might snatch them both. Yet he had to take his shot, because what did he have left? And what kind of life was it to always look over his shoulder? To be careful how much he let himself love Dean? He’d never be able to have what he wanted.
Dean, though. Dean could defeat Chuck. Dean could try a relationship, have a real wedding and a house with windows, a life. He could have it all, if Cas could save him.
It was what he deserved.
And so, after dispelling the beliefs about himself that Dean held, after sharing how he’d changed him, after telling him he loved him and experiencing that moment of happiness he knew would drag him to The Empty, Castiel shoved Dean to safety.
But just before that, he planted his bloody hand on the shoulder he’d claimed him with in Hell, dragged him in, and kissed what was left of his life into him.
“Goodbye, Dean,” he rasped, giving him that fateful push just as Billie and The Shadow both broke through.
Castiel smiled as he was torn from the man he loved forever.
One perfect first kiss: Sealing a bond
Castiel hadn’t argued with The Shadow like his previous visit to Chuck’s version of angel afterlife. He was content, knowing he’d given everything he had for his beloved human so his human could have everything. What more was there?
The entity tortured him for a while, but when Castiel remained impassive, it grew bored and left him to sleep.
He was doing just that when he was awakened by great peals of thunder. He stood, his corporeal form (the human likeness, not the chimera) reanimated and assessing. What was going on?
Inhuman shrieking pierced through the storm, along with a voice he recognized in its angelic state.
“Jack?” he cried out, desperately fumbling in the nothingness to get to his son, who didn’t belong there. Wasn’t supposed to ever end up there. He’d made a deal to make sure of it. “Jack!”
Around him, other figures rose from the inky muck—angels, demons, and those in between. He had no idea if any of them would be friend or foe, so he ignored them in favor of continuing his mad scramble to find Jack and bulldoze him back to Earth, then wake up The Shadow and curse it out for breaking its end of the bargain.
“Go!” he heard Jack scream, in his human voice that time.
Then, there was another human voice.
“Cas? Cas! Where are you?”
“Dean?” he murmured. No. He couldn’t be in The Empty. What was he doing?
Then he realized—it was a rescue mission.
For him.
“You idiots!” he shouted into the void. “Get out!”
Of course, that only drew Dean closer.
“Where are you? Keep talking, it’s dark as fuck in here!”
“That’s because it’s The Empty, where you’re not supposed to be!”
“Tough shit!”
Clearly, Dean’s give ’em hell attitude hadn’t changed in the time Castiel had been gone. He was the same stubborn risk-taker who ignored his own safety while squawking at others about theirs.
It irked him.
“I didn’t make a deal to save Jack’s life and then summon The Shadow to save yours just so you could both screw it up!”
Closer, Dean yelled, “Again, tough shit, because you shouldn’t’ve made a deal to begin with and you shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself for me!”
“Well, tough shit to you, too!”
“Great! We’ll argue more about it once I find your stupid ass.”
We’ll see about that. Castiel went silent.
“Cas! Say something!”
Castiel remained quiet.
“C’mon!”
It killed him, but still he kept his mouth shut…at least until Dean called his name again.
“Cas?”
It was the quiver in his voice, the childlike vulnerability and fear that Castiel knew he rarely allowed to emerge from his hard-boiled exterior. Damn it.
“Leave, Dean! I’m not telling you again!”
With renewed vigor, Dean shouted, “Well, I’m not leaving here without you, and I’ll pound that through your thick skull as many times as I have to!”
“I don’t want you and Jack to get trapped here! Just go!”
“If you don’t want us to get trapped here, then you’d better let me find you, because I’m staying put until I do. If that means I get sucked into this fuckin’ eternal darkness, well, it ain’t any worse than what’s been going on my head since you died. So come on, Castiel! Show yourself!”
Dean was so insufferable sometimes.
“Fine! Follow my voice and I’ll follow yours!” Castiel yelled into the gale. He’d have to push Dean out when they got to whatever portal got him in.
When Castiel finally spotted him, his grace almost choked him with delight and desire. He was still so beautiful. “Dean.”
Upon hearing his name, Dean swiveled around and sprinted toward him, and Castiel, despite knowing what he had to do, ran toward Dean, too.
The storm around them intensified, every stride like slogging through knee-high mud, but they finally reached each other. Dean was as intense as ever, but haggard, his hair and beard longer than usual and his skin sallow.
“Cas,” Dean croaked, stretching his hands toward him—and capturing his wrist in a cuff. An enchanted cuff.
Bewildered, Castiel’s eyes fell to it. “What is this?”
He secured the other to himself. “Insurance. Come on.”
Having no choice but to follow, Castiel did, racing against the consequences of his broken deal.
Dodging bodies and balls of fire, they eventually arrived at a rift glowing in vibrant hues of orange, blue, and green where, without warning or hesitation, Dean grabbed Castiel and flung them both through the space between dimensions.
Castiel saw and felt nothing for a moment, overcome by light, sound, and air.
Then he exhaled, long and low. He was home. At least for the moment.
When he opened his lids, Dean was above him. His furrowed brow and searching eyes settled, though his attention never strayed. “Cas,” he whispered, stroking his hair off his forehead.
“Dean.” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Like I said in the tar pits, tough shit.”
“It was foolhardy—”
“Since when has that ever stopped me?”
That was true. However… “Of all the things you’ve done, this was by far the riskiest, with the least reward. I know your thing about not leaving anyone behind—”
“Ohana, Cas.”
Despite himself, Castiel smiled at the Lilo & Stitch reference. The cartoon was a favorite of Jack’s. Dean’s, too.
“And besides, I don’t know why you’re saying it had the least reward. Had the most to me.”
“I…I can’t stay. It’s going to come back.”
“It won’t, Castiel.”
Frowning, Castiel looked beyond Dean at Jack, who’d uttered the assurance. “What do you mean, it won’t?”
“I mean there’s no more deal. The terms were satisfied.”
“But I was supposed to stay.”
“Nope,” Jack replied casually, sounding just like his other father.
“I don’t understand. The deal said—”
“The Shadow said it wanted you to suffer, then forget about the deal until you gave yourself permission to be happy and let the sun shine on your face. At that time, it would drag you to nothing.”
“Right.”
“Right. That’s what it did. It didn’t say forever.”
Thinking back, Castiel realized that Jack was correct.
“It’s subject to the terms of the deal it makes, like anything or anyone else. Even demons can’t renege on a contract. So, since it never specified the length of time…”
“We had ourselves a loophole,” Dean chimed in. “Tall, Dark, and Ugly couldn’t take Jack because he’s God now, and because there was another deal in place for you, it couldn’t make another claim. It had to surrender you.”
More confused than ever, Castiel stared at Dean. He asked, “What deal? Did you”—terror clutched his entire being—“Did you make a deal with The Shadow in my place?”
“Oh no,” Jack assured him. “We knew you wouldn’t stand for that. No, the deal had already been made a couple of years before.”
“By whom? I didn’t make any other deal.”
“Yeah, you did.” Dean turned Castiel’s face toward him. “Love and cherish, sickness and health, to infinity and beyond?”
Castiel blinked, remembering yet still befuddled. “Those are the vows we made at the ‘wedding’ we had for that siren case. You added the ‘to infinity and beyond’ part because it was in a movie.”
Dean chuckled, looking at him so fondly that Castiel wondered if he was still in The Empty after all. It would often use that sort of imagery to torture him. “Yeah, I did. Good thing, though. It saved our asses.”
When Castiel shook his head, still trying to make sense of the conversation, Jack explained, “You made a deal with each other. You bound yourselves to each other for infinity. And beyond.”
“We didn’t really get married, though, if that’s what you’re saying. Jody did not possess the credentials to join us, and we signed no documents. I’m not even human.”
“Uniting souls—or, in this case, soul and grace—isn’t subject to the laws of the United States government, nor any other human-made laws,” Jack reminded him.
Castiel knew that, yet something still didn’t add up. “Okay, but it’s not only a matter of words. There has to be intent behind…” He trailed off, slowly returning his attention to Dean, whose glowing soul manifested in his expression. “Dean?”
In reply, Dean lifted his left hand, raising Cas’ right at the same time since they were still cuffed. He wore the ring from their fake wedding on his finger. “I meant every word I said, and ever since you died, I’ve been wearing this and looking for a way to bring you back to me.” He lowered his hand into Castiel’s hair. “I love you, Cas.”
Tears swam in Castiel’s eyes—happy ones, as once before, but with an outcome that was so much brighter than he ever believed he’d get to have. “I love you too, Dean,” he breathed.
Dean nodded, his eyes also glossy. “You said on the day we did the wedding that I ‘deserved to have this someday.’ Well, you deserve it, too, and guess what? Someday is today, sweetheart.”
And with that, Dean captured Castiel’s lips in a kiss.
It wasn’t a kiss to cure, nor one of necessity or to save the other’s life. Yet it cured him. It was needy. It saved Castiel’s life, giving breath to his very being.
At first, it was tender, lips and tongue gently exploring, but soon, a lusty heat crept into it. Movements became bolder, wetter, harder.
Other things became harder, too.
“Well, uh, welcome back, Cas. I’m gonna go bleach my eyes now.”
They parted for Castiel to express his thanks to Sam and to Eileen, who he didn’t even realize were there in all the excitement, but Dean beat him to it with, “Might wanna do something for your ears while you’re at it.”
Sam moaned, Jack smiled, and Eileen said “Be as loud as you want” with a smug grin.
More sincerely, Dean said, “Thanks, guys. See you in the morning.”
“Late morning,” Eileen declared, Sam agreeing with a yawn.
They got up from the floor to trade hugs all around. After everyone else had gone to their bedrooms, Castiel followed Dean to the library (as they were still cuffed, it wasn’t like he had much choice). There were symbols of light all around them: a hanukkiah, a kinara, a Yule log, a Bodhi tree, a Christmas tree. They settled on the floor in front of the Christmas tree.
Dean unlocked the cuffs, then rubbed Castiel’s wrist, which was wonderfully relaxing despite not needing such care, as any chafing was already healed. He was, somehow, back to full power.
“As you can see, Jack wanted to observe all the holidays,” Dean said, gesturing around the room, where Castiel also spied kadomatsu and shimenawa, paper lanterns, and star-shaped piñatas. “Didn’t matter to me. Not a holiday guy, and I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate shit. But I let him do his thing, and I figured if we got you out, it was gonna be the best holiday I’ve ever had, no matter which one it was, and it would be all nice an’ pretty for you. And if we didn’t get out of there, then Jack could’ve just magicked it all away so Sam didn’t have to see it anymore, or maybe they could’ve left it while they worked on how to get us out, you know, like keeping all the decorations up until your soldier comes home. Soldiers, in this case.”
Castiel didn’t like what Dean was implying. “Dean, I wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. To stay there.”
“I didn't want you to leave me, but you made your choice.”
“To save your life—”
“And I would’ve made my choice for my life to be with you. Those cuffs weren’t only enchanted to keep you with me, you know. They would’ve kept me with you, too. Jack powered ’em up with our bond. Wherever you were, I was staying right beside you. I told you in Superhell how it was gonna be.”
He did, and once Dean’s mind was made up, there was little to do to change it. “Everything looks beautiful,” Castiel said rather than arguing.
Dean smiled at him. “Glad you like it.” His smile faded a bit as he continued, “Um, so I was gonna give this to you for Christmas, but considering it’s already yours, it seemed like a shitty gift. Plus, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.” He dug something familiar out of his pocket.
As soon as Castiel saw it, he blurted, “Yes.”
With a chuckle, Dean remarked, “You’re not even gonna let me ask you?”
“It’s redundant. We’re already committed to each other. To infinity.” Castiel snatched the ring from Dean’s grasp and slid it on his finger.
“And beyond,” Dean finished.
They met in a kiss, reaffirming their deal.
“Damn, now I don’t have anything for you,” Dean muttered.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Castiel picked up the handcuffs and placed them in Dean’s lap. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”
Dean’s brows rose to his hairline. “This infinity thing’s gonna be fun.”
“I hope to make it beyond your wildest expectations.”
Grinning softly, Dean replied, “You already have, sweetheart.”