Chapter Text
The first time Castiel lets Meg and Dean drag him to a party, he’s fully expecting to hate it.
The music is loud, the air thick with the scent of cheap beer and something vaguely citrusy. Bodies move in and out of the small apartment, laughter rising over the low thump of bass-heavy music. Castiel sticks to Meg’s side at first, a drink in hand, scanning the room for an easy exit strategy.
Dean appears next to him, grinning. “How’s it feel being a party guy now, Cas?”
Castiel takes a slow sip of his beer, unimpressed. “Loud. Sticky.”
Meg laughs, clinking her cup against his. “Give it time.”
And, to his own surprise, he does give it time.
By his third party, he’s holding his own in a drinking contest, much to the delight of Meg and Dean.
Dean slaps a hand over his chest dramatically after Castiel downs a shot without flinching. “You lied to me,” he accuses. “I thought you were gonna be a lightweight!”
Meg cackles. “Oh, I love this.”
Castiel shrugs, setting the glass down with careful precision. “My tolerance is just high,” he says, voice even.
Dean groans, flopping forward against the counter like he’s in distress. “I am so attracted to you right now, and that is so unfair.”
Meg smirks. “He’s gonna pay for this tomorrow.”
And she’s right. The next morning, Castiel regrets everything.
His head is pounding, and his mouth feels like it’s made of sandpaper. But when he pries one eye open, he finds Dean already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with a glass of water and two ibuprofen in hand.
Dean smirks down at him. “Morning, sunshine.”
Castiel groans. “Kill me.”
Dean just snorts, pressing the pills into his hand. “Nope. But I will take care of you.”
And he does.
*
They do, eventually, talk about their past traumas.
Castiel is lying in bed, scrolling through his notifications, when Dean emerges from the shower, towel slung over one shoulder. He climbs into bed beside him and cuddles into his side.
“You’ve been quiet today,” Dean says. “You worried about your final papers?”
Castiel exhales through his nose. “Just thinking.” He weaves his fingers through Dean’s damp hair, ruffling it. Dean hums but doesn’t speak, just stays close.
“My brother, Jimmy, died last year,” Castiel says softly. “Car accident. The other driver ran a stop sign. And… It's been hard.”
Dean turns to look at him, expression unreadable. “Charlie told me,” he admits. “Last year, when you disappeared before finals. She didn’t mean to. It just slipped out.”
Castiel nods, unsurprised. “I never wanted it to define me, but it does.”
Dean shifts, sitting up so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You know what defined me?” he says quietly. “Being Sam’s everything. Not because I had to be, I wanted to. My dad couldn’t…”
He doesn’t usually talk about this. Castiel listens.
“My mom died in a house fire when I was four,” Dean continues. “Dad survived, but… he stopped living. So I did the lunches, the rides, the homework help. Long before I was Sam’s legal guardian, I was already his parent.”
Castiel leans his head against Dean’s shoulder. “I didn’t know.”
Dean shrugs. “Didn’t seem like it mattered.”
“It does.”
They sit there for a while, quiet but no longer silent.
Both of them are a little broken, fractures left by loss, pressure, and expectation. But somehow, when they press close, the pieces fit.
*
Castiel doesn’t apply to grad school.
The decision comes slowly, a quiet realization that settles in his chest over time. Maybe later, but not now. He needs a break.
“I think I’ve made my decision,” Castiel says one night, stretched out on the sofa. He exhales. “I’m taking the job at Seraph.”
Dean, sprawled beside him, pauses mid-scroll on his phone. “Yeah?”
Castiel nods. “Yeah.”
Dean sets his phone down. “You sure?”
Castiel exhales, considering. “I think so. Grad school will always be there. But this… it feels like the right next step.”
Dean nudges his shoulder. “Well, I think that’s awesome, sunshine.”
Castiel gives him a flat look, but Dean just grins. “What?” he teases. “I’m supportive.”
Seraph Publishing, the same company that publishes Chuck’s books, offered him a job as an editorial assistant. And while Chuck insists he had nothing to do with it, Castiel can’t shake the feeling that his father’s influence had something to do with the offer.
The office is in Chicago, just a short drive from Pontiac. Close enough that seeing his father isn’t impossible. And while things between them still aren’t fixed, they’re better. A few stilted phone calls turned into actual conversations.
Baby steps.
*
Dean applies for jobs all over the country at first, mechanical engineering firms in half a dozen states. “Gotta cast a wide net,” he says.
But the second Castiel officially accepts his position in Chicago, Dean’s focus narrows .
“Hey, uh.” Dean scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the kitchen counter. “So, I’ve been thinking… I’m gonna start applying more in Chicago.”
Castiel stills. “Dean—”
Dean holds up a hand, cutting him off before he can spiral. “Before you start overthinking this—yeah, I know you. I’m doing it because I want to.” His voice is firm, certain. “If I can be close to you, I’m going to be. I love you, even if you’re a dumbass.”
Castiel swallows, something warm spreading in his chest. “You’re sure?”
Dean gives him a look. “Cas. You are not a life decision I regret.”
So Castiel doesn’t argue.
Dean ends up getting a job offer from a Chicago-based firm that designs renewable energy systems. When he gets the call, he bursts into Castiel’s apartment, triumphant.
“Chicago, baby!” he announces, lifting Castiel off the floor in a hug.
Castiel laughs, holding onto him. “You did it.”
Dean grins against his neck. “We did.”
*
Chuck meets Dean for the first time at graduation.
The event is long and tedious, and the speeches drag, but Castiel finds himself stealing glances at the other graduates, particularly someone seating in the back with the W’s.
When the ceremony ends, Castiel beelines it for Dean and drags him along to meet his father.
Chuck claps a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, giving him a rare, genuine smile. “I’m proud of you, son.”
Something in Castiel loosens.
Dean stands beside him, shifting his weight, looking like he’s waiting for the right moment to introduce himself.
So Castiel does it for him. “Dad, this is Dean.”
Chuck sizes him up for a beat, expression unreadable. Then he nods, smirking. “So you’re the one.”
Dean flicks a glance at Castiel, then back to Chuck. “Should I be worried?”
Chuck’s smirk widens. “Not at all.”
And just like that, Castiel watches his father and his boyfriend fall into easy conversation.
Later, when they’re alone, Castiel exhales. “That went… better than expected.”
Dean wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him close. “Told you I’m charming.”
Castiel huffs. “That is not what happened.”
Dean just grins.
*
That night, as they sit on the hood of Dean’s car, looking out at the city skyline, Castiel finds himself feeling… settled.
It’s not a feeling he’s used to.
“Glad you called him?” Dean asks, voice low.
Castiel watches the way the lights flicker on the river below them. “Yeah,” he admits. “You were right.”
Dean hums. “I love hearing that.”
Castiel nudges him. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
Dean laughs, tilting his head to look at him. “I mean it, though,” he says, softer this time. “I just… I wish I’d made peace with my dad before he died. And I didn’t want you to have that regret.”
Castiel swallows. “Thank you,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can say.
Dean squeezes his hand. “Always.”
*
Sam is in the middle of his own finals and graduation, but they’ve already made plans for a road trip to California before their new jobs start.
Meg is heading off to graduate school in New York City, having landed a teaching assistant position. When Castiel hugs her goodbye, she claps him on the back. “Try not to be miserable without me.”
Charlie, on the other hand, already left for a mysterious job that she refuses to give details about.
“She was so recruited by the CIA,” Dean insists.
Castiel shakes his head, but deep down, he doesn’t disagree.
And just like that, everything changes.
Meg is off to NYC. Charlie vanishes off the grid. Sam finishes his undergrad and starts getting ready for law school. And Castiel and Dean? They’re preparing for an entirely new chapter of their lives.
*
The car is packed tight, every inch of space filled with boxes, suitcases, and the accumulated pieces of two separate lives merging into one. Their respective apartments are now just memories, their next home waiting for them in Chicago.
Dean had reposted all of his old fics earlier that day. Castiel had felt a pang of sadness that all the original comments and kudos were lost, but Dean had been completely nonchalant about it.
“Fandom’s always growing,” Dean had said, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping out an imaginary beat against the gear shift. “Maybe reposting means new people will see them. Maybe someone who missed them the first time gets to fall in love with them now. Maybe they’ll mean something different now.”
That, Castiel had to admit, was a very Dean way of looking at it.
And besides, there are new stories coming.
Earlier that day, Dean had posted the first chapter of "The Bookstore", their collaborative short story turned into something much bigger. Castiel hadn’t had the chance to check it yet, but from the sheer number of emails and Discord messages he’d received, it was getting quite the reception.
By the time they pull into a hotel for the night, Castiel is more than ready to be done.
Dean had driven the first stretch of the trip. Castiel had taken over somewhere past St. Louis. Now, his back aches, his brain is foggy, and all he wants is a hot shower and a bed that doesn’t require a car engine running beneath him.
But something’s off.
Dean had been quiet all day. Distracted. Castiel had asked more than once if something was wrong, but Dean had just brushed him off, his usual snarky deflections noticeably absent.
Castiel notices it in the way Dean drums his fingers against the steering wheel, not to the beat of the radio, but in a scattered, restless rhythm.
Or, when Castiel is the one driving, the way he keeps glancing at his phone, unlocking it, staring at something, then locking it again without a word.
Or the way he doesn’t tease Castiel about his bad highway playlist.
Even now, as soon as they step into the hotel room, Dean grabs his duffel bag and disappears into the bathroom without a single joke about showering together. That’s how Castiel knows something is up.
Alone, Castiel flops onto the bed, pulling out his phone. He still hasn’t checked the fic comments, so he scrolls through his email notifications.
They’re overwhelmingly positive.
But some of them don’t make sense.
“Tell us what he says!”
“OMG DID YOU GET AN ANSWER???”
“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Castiel frowns. He considers checking the Kilas Discord, but instead, he goes directly to the fic itself.
The author’s note catches his attention immediately.
"I almost stopped writing, but someone reminded me why I started in the first place. I’m back, and this time, I have a coauthor. Hope you enjoy. This is the first of a number of new stories."
Warmth curls in Castiel’s chest.
He scrolls, scanning through the familiar text of their chapter, looking for the thing that had everyone freaking out.
Then… he sees it.
The end note.
Cas,
I thought the day you turned me in for having plagiarized my own story was one of the worst days of my life.
But it turned out to be one of the best.
Because that was the catalyst that changed everything.
These last several months have been some of the absolute best of my life. I can’t imagine you not being beside me.
Will you marry me and coauthor our life together?
Castiel’s stomach flips.
His pulse hammers in his ears.
For a second, he can’t even breathe, let alone move.
The bathroom door swings open, and Dean steps out, towel slung around his shoulders, his hair still damp, a nervous kind of energy buzzing around him.
Their eyes meet.
Dean freezes.
“…You see it?” Dean asks, voice rough, barely above a whisper.
Castiel blinks. Then again.
“…You proposed to me on AO3?”
Dean winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “In my defense … ” He trails off, then shrugs. “Yeah, I got nothing.”
Castiel lets out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, hands gripping the edge of his phone like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
His phone trembles slightly in his grip.
His brain stutters, struggling to catch up, to process the words in front of him.
Will you marry me and coauthor our life together?
It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous. It’s so incredibly Dean that Castiel wants to laugh and cry at the same time.
He swallows hard, his heart hammering against his ribs. Dean doesn’t just love him… Dean has loved him for years.
And suddenly, there’s nothing left to hesitate about.
Dean takes a small step forward, swallowing hard. “Look, I—I know it’s soon. I know. But, Cas… I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Castiel is blindsided by the sudden, overwhelming wave of emotion that crashes into him.
Dean, his Dean, grinning through a beer in his hand, curled up on the sofa with him, arguing about Kilas theories. Dean nudging his foot under the table, stealing his fries, kissing him senseless against a library bookshelf. Dean, who loves him, who has loved him for years, who chose him over and over again.
Castiel’s phone lands somewhere on the bed—he doesn’t care.
He’s already moving. Two strides, then his hands are in Dean’s hair, and he’s kissing him like gravity depends on it, like saying yes isn’t enough, like he needs Dean to feel it.
When they finally break apart, Dean’s breathless, wide-eyed, hopeful.
Castiel rests his forehead against Dean’s, smiling softly.
“I don’t have a ring yet,” Dean mutters. “Had this whole plan, but…”
“Yes,” Castiel interrupts.
Dean blinks. “Wait, what?”
“Yes,” Castiel repeats, laughing now, hands still cradling Dean’s face. “You absolute menace. Of course I’ll marry you.”
Dean’s body sags with relief, his breath hitching before laughter spills out of him. “Holy shit.”
Castiel tilts his head. “Wait, did you think I’d say no?”
Dean groans and pulls him in again, pressing a smile into Castiel’s lips. “No, sunshine,” he murmurs, grinning against him. “Just, you know, gotta be sure.”
Castiel just shakes his head, laughing as Dean kisses him again.
In the morning, they’ll keep driving to Chicago.
But for now, the world can wait.
They’ve got time, a story to write, and each other. And they’ll keep making it up as they go.