foolintherain | INBOX #305682

[ The first thing Castiel does, after wrapping the mala around his wrist and thumbing through the beads with practiced, rhythmic motion, is play the mixtape on the bedroom's stereo. He smiles to hear it isn't just Led Zeppelin IV in consecutive order, but actually Dean's favorite tracks. That knowledge is precious, and Castiel savors it with every transition to the next song.

No doubt Dean has many people to gift things to, and so Castiel waits where he knows Dean will inevitably return: in bed. He sits on the edge, dressed down in just a white dress shirt and black slacks, counting the beads wrapped around his wrist to the rhythm of Robert Plant's crooning. The little effigy of Dean also sits patiently on the bedside table, though the note's been removed. ]

[ far less gifts than Cas might think. He does have a few people to deliver to, though, and it’s good practice for his jelly legs.

He’ll be back a few hours later, wandering into the bedroom to find Cas, sans coat, listening to the tape.

It makes him smile, something blooming in his chest that’s beginning to feel very familiar. ]

Hey. Enjoying your moment of zen with Robert Plant?

[ heh. he laughs at himself. ]

Sounds like a cheesy radio sound byte.

Edited 2021-12-24 16:09 (UTC)

[ Castiel was, actually. So much that he doesn't listen for the door or anticipate Dean's arrival, and so it's that much more of a pleasant surprise when he hears Dean's voice over the trilling na na na's of Zep's The Ocean. Castiel smiles up at Dean, delighted and oddly proud to have this: to have Dean, to sit in their shared room and wait for Dean to come home, and know that he won't be disappointed. After almost a month without that feeling, it's that much easier to treasure.

Cas doesn't stand, but turns towards Dean, scooting back on the bed to sit cross-legged, while wrapping the mala back around his wrist. His head is tilted back, and he smiles up at Dean warmly, all but radiating love and appreciation. ]

I am. Thank you, Dean.

[ Castiel is thoroughly distracted, but thinking about Dean, and his gifts, eventually reminds him, and he looks over at the bedside table, where next to the plush, a small box wrapped in black and gold sits. He reaches over to grab it, and doesn't stand but holds it out for Dean, with intent more like luring an animal closer than offering. ]

Oh, I got you something, also. Merry Christmas.

[ The door is shut and locked behind him, because there's something about the way Cas is sitting on that bed without his trench and black jacket, looking smaller than usual that has Dean eyeing him appreciatively, gaze tracing over his form, memorizing the moment. ]

You did?

[ That distracts him from the thoughts in his head, the ones he's having about pushing Cas back and tearing his nice clothes off and ravaging him in their bed. He'd take his time with it once he got them naked, but his fingers were already flexing to pop buttons when the glittery lure is held out in front of him. ]

You didn't have to get me anything.

[ But he's coming in anyway, a magpie drawn to something shiny, sitting on the bed in front of him, drawing his legs up as he takes the box. ]

[ In the past, Cas was never a fan of locked doors, or doors in general, but when Dean is involved and looking at him with less than innocent intent, Castiel can see the appeal.

But no, he's not going to be distracted just yet. Gift-giving is surprisingly stressful, and Castiel feels strangely nervous as Dean sits with him and accepts the gift. ]

I wanted to. It might be silly, but...

[ But like Dean got him a plush of himself? So anything Castiel got him has to seem appropriately elegant in comparison, he reasons. Or maybe elegant is a bad thing, and he should've gotten Dean a stuffed hot dog instead, or something like it. Castiel holds his breath as he looks between Dean and the box in tense anticipation. ]

I hope you like it.

[ Inside the wrapping is a small jewelry box, and inside of that is a black leather bracelet that looks opal, but what must be obvious to anyone here in Trench is that it's not opal, but pale blood. Hanging from the center of the black cord is a small silver charm with Enochian etched onto it. And sitting in the middle of the bracelet, pushed into a slit cut in the box's padding, is a fairly large gold ring, engraved with a pentacle and various Enochian runes and sigils. ]

It isn’t silly.

[ He’s objecting before he even opens it, looking at Cas with a tired smile, running his thumb over the box before he glances down and pulls the paper off.

He isn’t sure what to expect, but even still, it’s a surprise. The bracelet is precisely something he’d wear, and he can tell that it isn’t just opals, it’s pale blood, and it can only be Cas’.

The ring is the biggest surprise, though - and he loves it, immediately slipping it on his left hand and admiring the way it looks. ]

I love this, Cas. Where’d you find it?

[ It's kind of Dean to pass judgement before he's even seen the gift. It could be anything in there. It could even be a boat. And that would definitely be silly, no matter how much he wanted one of those.

But no, it's jewelry, and Cas had been human long enough to understand and appreciate the association of giving someone you care about something like this. But Dean had done the same for him, and the ring just felt.... appropriate. Castiel feels a wash of relief as Dean immediately puts it on. ]

I had it made.

[ There are a lot of very skilled artisans around, and the picture Castiel had provided was embarrassingly crude in comparison to the final piece. It's a very nice looking ring, Castiel thought, and on Dean's finger, it looks even better. He unfolds his legs and scoots closer to Dean on the bed, looking at Dean's hand as he wraps his own beneath it, links their fingers and tilts the ring up towards the light. ]

The star of david on the right, here, asks for protection from benevolent forces. The triangular seal, here on the other side, asks for the opposite: protection from evil spirits. And the pentacle on top asks for protection from whatever god is willing to listen.

[ He’s already shoving the bracelet on his wrist, admiring it even as Cas brings their hands up to show off the ring. It’s beautiful - the designs intricate, perfect, beautiful. ]

Cas, I love it. This is amazing.

[ Dean doesn’t know where Cas commissioned it from and he doesn’t care - it’s perfect, and he can’t… help himself… ]

Hey. Does this mean we’re gay married now?

[ It's an intimate moment Castiel enjoys as he and Dean sit on their shared bed together with hands twined, a gold ring on Dean's finger, and bracelets warmed by their wrists that are made of beads that mirror the blood in their veins. Dean is radiant. Honest appreciation and love beams from his soul, and Castiel feels filled with Dean's warmth.

And then he goes and says something completely ridiculous, and Castiel feels instead an uncomfortable flush of cold. He stammers. ]

I'm‐ I'm not aware of the differences between being married and being "gay married."

[ Why are you like this, Dean. But really, Castiel can only blame himself. He gave Dean a ring of all jewelry pieces, after all, fully aware of possible implication. And even despite (or because of) Dean's teasing, Cas still loves him wholly. He raises his chin, proud, defiant, and quietly terrified as he answers. ]

If anything, we should be "gay engaged."

[ Dean is a master at ruining things - moments, movies, whatever. Blurting out spoilers and being obnoxious in a moment that's vulnerable...Cas shouldn't be surprised.

But he'd also kind of meant it, was maybe testing the waters to see what Cas would say.

Not that he's going to drag him by the wings down to the courthouse, but...sue him. He was curious, and hot damn, he's got his answer. ]

Mmm...I'm okay with that. [ It means he'll have to find Cas a ring - a good one, not some garbage made out of his ugly blood. ]

[ If there's anyone who knows Dean— scars, smiles — it's Castiel. Even in the face of potential rejection, he loves him. Cas has made peace with that years ago. But hearing that his proposal, however hypothetical, is accepted somehow makes him love Dean even more, in ways Castiel hadn't realized was possible. ]

Are you?

[ He warms, overwhelmed, and his expression softens. His hand unoccupied hand raises and he touches Dean's cheek gently, as if he's an illusion to be shattered. How could any one person be so wonderful? How could any one multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent be so lucky to be perceived, and acknowledged, and loved by a person like that? "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." His thumb smooths over Dean's lips, and Castiel leans in towards him, like gravity. His eyes drop to those full lips and his voice goes quiet with want that is much, much deeper than carnal. ]

Because if you're willing to offer me something so profound as a lifetime promised to one another... I'll take it, ravenously.

[ Dean tips his head and watches Cas, his wrist cool from where the paleblood bracelet rests. The bed is made only by virtue of Dean changing the sheets earlier that day, and he shifts where he's seated on the comforter, the metal of the ring warm against his finger, hand lifting to cover the one on his cheek.

Their lives have been wrought with trauma, with hardship and tears, heartbreak and loss. Dean can't remember a time from back home when he'd been truly happy, when worry hadn't creased his forehead and wore on his soul. The story was never ending, exhaustive and sad.

He wouldn't say Trench is 'happy'...not with the things they've been through, the pain of being yanked suddenly back into the 'right' timeline, of losing Sam to the waters, of the oen roaring in the basement. Deerington, strangely, for all of its faults had provided Dean with some of the happiest moments of his life.

Dean had wondered if that can happen here, if he would ever be afforded any kind of happiness. The answer, as of yet, seems to be no - but in this locked space with Castiel, with the door shut and the outside world left at bay if only for a moment, he thinks maybe...

Maybe.

Lips part under Cas' thumb and his eyes fix on stormy blue, his hand falling to rest against Cas' chest, a gentle press. ]

For as long as I'm alive, Cas, I'm yours.

[ There is nothing "easier" about being here in Trench. Different, certainly, but as far as pain goes, this world is frustratingly familiar, not to mention terrifyingly impermanent.

And then there's this: there's memories of Dean's embrace, or heartfelt promises, and misery in parting. Even more exceptionally, there's the glorious present, or Dean's hands warmly pressed under his, of Dean's flushed lips and clear eyes, and the honesty in his affirmation that Castiel can feel as if the words were woven into the fabric of his grace itself. Irrationally, his heart races under Dean's hand, and Cas leans forward, against Dean's hand, to close the last bit of space between him and kiss his mouth with naked adoration, gently, again and again between whispered words, meant only for them. ]

I love you. Dean... Let me be yours, too. Be with me, always. Marry me.

[ There's probably some ceremony he's missing. He should be down on one knee, probably, rather than kneeling forward on their bed. But for all Cas had imagined spending his life with Dean, even sharing his bed, he'd never let himself dream that he'd ever have a relationship with Dean that might culminate in this. It's equal parts deeply satisfying and terrifying, and he isn't entirely sure that he isn't dead himself and this is some pthumerian's version of heaven. Even as he kisses Dean's mouth, nuzzles his nose, and meets his eyes, he waits for the hammer to fall. ]

[ However Dean expected this afternoon to go, this certainly wasn't anywhere on his radar. When he'd found Cas sitting on their bed in nothing but that white shirt and his slacks, he'd sort of imagined maybe pressing him back against the bed, flicking those buttons open one by one, working his way down Cas' chest with his tongue until he hit the waistband of his pants, maybe teasing him through the material, palm him a little to get him nice and worked up.

Ending up with a ring on his hand and a whispered promise on his lips -- not what he expected. Maybe that's okay, though -- nothing in their life is expected, and with everything that is constantly going wrong around him, maybe he's allowed to have this one, precious thing that's right. He sure wants to, anyway.

Maybe it's time he threw caution to the wind - let himself love endlessly, with his whole heart, because he is full of it, brimming with adoration, but constantly shoving it back down because that wasn't who he was supposed to be, that isn't who he's expected to be. Thing is, though - back in Deerington, under those twinkling lights with Taylor Swift and Maurice Williams and Norah Jones, he'd kissed Cas under the stars and fireworks, and no one expected anything out of him, no one asked him to be anything other than himself.

His fingers twist in Cas' shirt as he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, lips brushing against the angels, his grip tight. ]

Yeah. Hell yeah.

[ Unplanned spontaneity seems to be the way they roll, and it hasn't always worked for them. Sometimes, snap decision have gone very, very badly. Castiel was standing in front of Dean's funeral pyre just recently. Hardly a week ago, "Dean," as Castiel knows him, didn't exist in this world. But then he was reborn, incredibly, back into this world, and how could Castiel take that as anything but a sign from a very powerful higher being that this is where he was meant to be?

It's still difficult for Castiel to see himself as anything but a sunspot blemishing the radiance of Dean's existence, but there isn't anywhere in any universe he'd rather be that where Dean is, as close as possible beside him, and— ]

Yes?

[ And that was a yes. An aggressive but emphatic yes, and Castiel feels a rush of giddiness so strong that his mouth stretches wide in a grin, interrupting their sweet, soft kisses. Cas feels high. The lingering, very sensible fear he felt melts completely away, replaced by absolute bliss, hallelujah, and he can't keep the delighted bubble of laughter from his throat. ]

[ God, if Cas only knew how beautiful he really was to Dean. Even now as they sit here on the bed, lips brushing in the sweetest of kisses, all Dean can think about is how perfect he is, how good, kind, wonderful. He's Dean's sunlight, a star that he can't help but orbit. ]

Damn right that's a yes.

[ Eloquence isn't his forte, and if Cas expected anything other than emphatic explicatives, well - he's clearly misjudged the situation.

Dean smiles against his lips, pushes forward against him, shoving Cas back down against the bed, a hand on his hip, fingers tugging at his shirt. ]

Can we consummate early? Repeatedly, preferably.

INBOX #305682

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One Eternity Later

🎶 i will wait 🎶

:,)

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