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“It’s your birthday, Cassie! Smile!”
Castiel smiles obligingly, albeit it feels forced. He looks around at the few friends at party and the smile comes a little easier.
Sam and Jess are staring at him with those matching puppy-dog eyes. Dean once said the phrase “couples eventually start to look like each other” was ridiculous. Looking at Sam and Jess, with her pretty blonde curls and his earnest stare, Castiel has to disagree. They both manage to perfect that whole ‘We love you and feel sorry for you but we’re trying not to show it’ look perfectly.
Castiel looks up from where he’s playing with his fingers, “Thank you, really,” he says, trying to make himself sound as earnest as possible, “I’m flattered.”
“Yeah you’d better be!” his brother Balthazar replies, “Tammy actually had to clean up in here for this!”
Tammy, Balthazar’s girlfriend of 3 years, laughs, “We had to clean up for this,” she turns her gaze to Castiel and gives him a soft smile, “It’s not like we mind.”
That makes a small smile curl Castiel’s lips as everyone else laughs. Balthazar and Tammy’s condo is the only home big enough to host a birthday party, even with so few people. Castiel’s tiny student apartment is only big enough for a single bedroom, a small kitchen, an even smaller living room, and a bathroom. Two people at the most could cohabitate comfortably.
But for the past year, it was only Castiel.
It wasn’t bad, really. Well, this is what Castiel kept trying to convince himself. Him and Dean still have skype. And phones are a thing, so they talk almost every day anyway. And they’re lucky their shared plan has unlimited text messaging. Dean likes to make bad puns about his job or complain about the “dumbass entitled piss-babies” of California. Castiel likes to send various pictures of nice leaves and bugs he happens to find, all subtle reminders that beautiful things still exist for Dean if he would just come back home.
Dean doesn’t seem to care either way about the bugs and the leaves, but when he manages to convince Castiel to send a quick selfie, their later phone conversations always start with “I miss you.”
They say long distance relationships will kill you, but if that was true, then Castiel would call it a very slow death. More like an illness.
Sometimes there were bad days, like that time Dean’s car was hit by a semi. Castiel was at work at the time and couldn’t even check his phone. Later, Castiel wanted to punch his past self in the face for thinking steamed mochas were more important than Dean bleeding out in the hospital.
Dean had been fine; a head wound and a broken left leg that, thankfully, didn’t impede on his driving. Not that it mattered.
The Impala was totaled, crushed completely on the driver’s side. Castiel thanked whatever God there was that the Impala was too big and stubborn to let its driver get too banged up.
The weeks after the accident were brutal. Dean was holed up in his room, unable to really work, at first, and only able to go to classes. And Castiel had felt so helpless. The first time they skyped after the accident, Castiel had cried. His vision blurred the heavy-duty bandage taped to Dean’s forehead and the many cuts and stitches that stood starkly against his skin, and Castiel had to wipe the tears away quickly so he wouldn’t lose one moment of seeing Dean alive and well.
So an illness. That’s how Castiel looks at it.
He had supported Dean wholeheartedly when he said he wanted to spend year at UCLA for some sort of special mechanical engineering program. Sure, as a history major, the intricacies of engineering are a mystery to Castiel. But Dean loves physical science, ever since they were in middle school together. They already went to the same college together. Castiel could handle Dean spending a year on the other side of the country.
But today is Castiel’s birthday, so he allows himself to feel a little bitter about Dean’s absence.
They’ve been together together for three years, so Castiel thinks it’s perfectly normal to miss Dean like a phantom limb.
Dean’s been gone for exactly eight months. Castiel is fine.
But it’s his birthday. Dean should be here, smashing his cake slice into Castiel’s face and claiming he wanted pie anyway. Dean would chastise Castiel for “getting in the way of his mouth” before grossing everyone out by licking it off his cheek and then shrugging and blushing and smiling with his freckles standing out and
Well.
Castiel just really misses him.
Balthazar’s surprise chokehold brings him back to the present, “Lighten up, Cas, it’s your birthday!”
“Thank you, Balthazar. I hadn’t noticed.” He only ever had small gatherings for his birthday, he’s just never felt so alone for it.
“Hey!” Balthazar lets him go and flops on the couch next to him, “I know you’re busy pining, but can you please try to enjoy this? It’s not every day you turn twenty five you know.”
“I’m enjoying this.”
Balthazar looks skeptical. “Really.” He drawls. He looks over at Charlie and arches his brow. She nods enthusiastically. “Then why don’t we bring out the cake.”
At the mention of cake, the room quieted and Castiel felt the eyes of everyone turn to him.
“Of course.” He wondered if there would be pie but refrained from asking.
“Yes!” Charlie jumps up from the love seat on Castiel’s right where she was cuddled with her girlfriend, Gilda. “Okay! Cake, Sam! The cake!”
Sam perks up from his seat in the corner of the room, “Now?”
“Cake, Sam!”
Castiel is confused. Cake was good, of course, but he doesn’t really understand why it would warrant such enthusiasm.
His confusion increases when, instead of heading towards the refrigerator, Sam goes out the front door.
“How about we sing in the kitchen?” Jess says before Castiel can open his mouth, “I’ll get the candles!”
“But,” Castiel interrupts. He doesn’t want Sam to miss the cake. He likes the corner pieces. “Shouldn’t we wait for-”
“I got a lighter,” Victor pulls a lighter out of his back pocket. Jo jumps up from the floor where she was sprawled in front of the couch and grabbs the lighter out of his hand.
“You stole this from me!”
“What’s mine is yours, dear.”
Castiel smiled when Jo playfully pushed away his face when he attempted to come in for a kiss. Jo and Victor had been together even longer than Dean and himself. Somehow, one of Dean’s best friends and his foster sister managed to go behind Dean’s back and become an item. They were good together.
But where did Sam go, and why is Castiel the only one who seemed to care?
“But Sam-”
“Cas.” Charlie puts her hand on his shoulder and bites her lip before pleading, “Just go to the kitchen?”
Perplexed, Castiel shuffles into the kitchen along with everyone else with one last look at the door.
It’s a tight fit, but soon Castiel is staring down at a white, black, and yellow cake with small frosted bees decorating the corners.
Happy Bee-Day Cas!
“Oh,” Castiel felt the smile stretching across his face at the simple cake. He looks up at those gathered around him. “Thank you, I’m touched.” He turns back to the bees and remembers the beautiful picture of a bee on a tulip he’d sent to Dean yesterday. He couldn’t wait to call him later. They would probably facetime with everyone during the party. Maybe later tonight Dean will sing to him. “You know I appreciate you all being here, and-”
“Geez Cassie,” Balthazar interrupts, “it’s just a cake. You can thank us later. Now be quiet so we can sing.”
Castiel rolls his eyes and bore the exuberant, slightly off-key singing of his friends. He distantly hears the door open and sees Sam sidle in next to Ellen.
When it’s over, Sam whispers something in Ellen’s ear and Castiel sees her whole face light up before she runs out.
“Make a wish, Cas,” Jo said with a quick glance at Ellen. She is smiling very wide.
Castiel closed his eyes and fiddles with his phone in his pocket. Everyone is quiet while he makes his stupid wish.
He opens his eyes and blew out the candles. It doesn’t matter that his wish won’t come true. “There. Now who wants the first piece?”
No one answers. Frowning, Castiel turns.
“Does no one-”
Oh.
Dean.
Dean is here. In Balthazar’s kitchen, freckles and earnest green eyes with the little crinkles at the corners from smiling too hard.
Castiel swallowed, he’s floating. He thinks he might be smiling, if only he could feel his face.
“Hey Cas,” Dean says. Castiel inhales slightly at Dean’s voice, unaffected by static and thousands of miles.
When he opens his eyes, Dean is still there, and Castiel doesn’t think before he’s wrapping him in his arms.
Castiel isn’t really sure how it happened, but one minute he’s standing solitary in front of the forgotten cake and the next he’s wrapped around Dean, head buried in his shoulder so with every breath he takes all he can smell is Dean.
Castiel might be shaking a little bit, and strange, choking noises are bubbling from his throat. He thinks he might be trying to form words. But he feels Dean’s strong hands stroking down his back, can hear Dean murmuring, low and deep, into his ear.
There’s no way to tell how long they stand there. How long he stands and breathes in the scent of old leather and sandalwood, his own fingers clutching tightly to the ever present leather jacket.
Dean hadn’t changed at all.
When they finally pull back, Cas absently notes that his vision is a little blurry.
“Hey, Cas,” he repeats.
Castiel is shocked and a little disappointed by how bright his eyes are, how vibrant. He thinks of the skype calls where he thought this is enough, at least I can see him, and feels robbed.
Castiel manages to respond this time.
“Hello, Dean.”
Words he’s repeated countless times. He feels his own grin overwhelm him and he may be shaking, his happiness leaking all over the place. Surely there could be no better feeling than to have Dean by his side.
Dean looks around the kitchen and his blush deepens. They’re alone, and Castiel wonders why they aren’t making their way into the common room to celebrate with the others.
“When did you get back?”
Dean looks away from the door to stare at him with wide eyes, “Huh?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Oh,” He rubs the back of his neck, his blush deepening, “Uh, I just got in less than an hour ago, took a taxi.”
Castiel’s eyebrows came together, “You flew?”
“Yeah, uh,” Dean bit his lip “It was, oh, here we go,”
Castiel buried his face into the bare skin of Dean’s neck, “You flew all the way here,” His voice was slightly muffled, “You hate planes and you flew here for me,”
“Of course I did,” Dean’s fingers stroked through Castiel’s hair, solid and grounding, “It really sucked, though.”
“So you’re going back. For the Impala, you’re going back?” Castiel’s hold tightened without his permission, “You’re not done with this semester.”
“I got finals, yeah,”
“When are you going back?” Castiel finally loosens his grip and steps back so he can look at Dean fully.
“I’m here for up to a week.”
“Up to?”
Dean looks around again, rubbing his hands on his jeans before shoving them in his pockets. “You know, if you still want me here.”
“Why wouldn’t I-”
Castiel’s sentence cuts off and he feels his throat close up as time slows down. The next thing he knows, Dean is on his right knee, face upturned and bright red, and he’s holding a simple gold band in bloodless fingers.
He opens his mouth and promptly closes it, the ring held too high above his head. His blinks rapidly and tries to speak but no sound is coming out.
“Oh, Dean,” he knows he meant to say something else. Something that sounds a hell of a lot like ‘yes’, or ‘of course’, or ‘always’, but he can’t think of anything outside of, “Dean.”
After about a minute of just staring, Dean smiles, his eyes lighting up as his apparent anxiety dissipates. “Whaddya say, Cas? Marry me?”
The blood rushing through Castiel’s ears almost drown out Dean’s words, but he’ll be damned if he ruins this.
“Dean,”
Oh no, he’s ruining this.
He can’t speak, everything he wants to say is locked behind his throat. He loves Dean, of course he wants to marry Dean. He wants Dean for the rest of their lives.
If only he could say something other than “Dean.”
“Cas I know you love saying my name and everything but-”
“Yes.”
Dean seems to startle slightly at that. “Yes?”
“Yes,” Castiel is nodding now, dropping to his knees to grab the ring from Dean’s slack fingers, “Of course, Dean, yes,” The ring fits perfectly, and Castiel decides to ask about that later.
“Okay,” Dean responds before he grips the back of Castiel’s neck in a crushing kiss. “Okay.” he mutters against Castiel’s lips, his fingers moving to grip the collar of his shirt to pull him closer.
“Dean, we’re getting married.”
Dean laughs, a tight sound that catches in his throat. “We’re getting married, Cas.” He moves to press his forehead against Castiel’s and Castiel feels fingers smoothing down the back of his neck. Castiel interrupts the silence.
“Does everyone know?”
“No,”
“Wanna tell them?”
“Not really.”
Castiel smiles. He doesn’t think he’s ever smiled this much in his life, “We could always elope?”
“My mom would kill me,”
“Sam would stop talking to you,”
“Charlie would destroy our laptops,”
“Then we should probably tell them now,”
Castiel finds his fingers tangled up with Dean’s, the gold band on his finger catching in the light. Dean looks down as well and runs slightly trembling fingers over it, slow and reverent.
“Yeah?” Dean asks with a small voice, his eyes slightly hesitant. As if Castiel is going to change his mind any minute and call the whole thing off.
Castiel kisses him again to wipe the look away. “Yes, before they start wondering what we’re doing in here.”
“Oh I think I know what they think we’re doing in here.” He accompanies this with an over exaggerated wink and Castiel is seized by a slightly hysterical laugh.
“I love you, Dean.” Dean’s playful smirk drops to something softer, “We’re getting married and I love you.” He kisses him again for emphasis, “Now lets go before they come to throw water on us.”
“Yeah, Cas,” He stands and reaches down to help Castiel off the ground. He doesn’t let go of his hand. “Whatever you say.”
Castiel holds onto Dean’s hand tight while they withstand the shrieks and endless congratulations from their friends and family. He can’t stop himself from glancing at Dean from the corner of his eye and catches Dean doing the same.
Long distance relationships may be an illness, but Castiel thinks he’s found the cure.