Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dean Winchester slid behind the wheel of his ʼ67 Chevy, and quickly started the car. He blew a warm breath into his cupped hands before gripping the steering wheel and backing out of his brother’s driveway. 

It was a brisk morning in Erzla Cove. A small coastal town in the upper peninsula of Rhode Island, Erzla was steeped in legend. It was said to be where the angels assembled when they first came to earth and lived among humans. Ancient writings dating back hundreds of years in Enochian, the language of the angels, were carved into the sea caves along the shoreline, adding to this myth. The name, Erzla, itself, meant Angel, and many of the town’s landmarks were named in the archaic script. Most prominently Glo Loholo lighthouse, which fittingly translated into All Things Shine . 

Dean didn’t know if he believed the legend, or in angels in general, but if it comforted people, if it made them act a little kinder, then Dean was all for it.

At six am, the streets were quiet as Dean drove, not too many people braving the sidewalks in the March wind. In the summer, Erzla Cove would be bustling with activity; all of the tourist shops on Main Street would be filled, and vacationers enjoying the beaches, and devout people of all faiths, would make the pilgrimage to explore the caves. Worshippers, or Hoaths as the locals liked to call them, filled up the RV parks, hotels, and inns in the town, until the bite of winter sent them all packing. 

Dean drove in silence, brain not caffeinated enough to deal with the local morning news on the radio or his usual classic rock. His small studio apartment above Winchester General, a small family store that Dean had worked for since he was tall enough to stand behind the register, wasn’t far, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling around back to park. 

Dean cursed the wind as he walked to the front to unlock the doors. The store didn’t open until eight am, still an hour earlier than most of the businesses on Main Street. Winchester General sat on a small lot sandwiched between The Sherwood Florist, and an antique shop/salvage yard called Junk & Disorderly. Junk & Disorderly was owned by Bobby Singer. Bobby was sort of Dean’s surrogate uncle; a cranky old bastard with a heart of gold, who’d been best friends with Dean’s father.

Across the street on the corner was his favorite coffee shop Lasa Moz- —Enochian for Rich Joy. Conveniently located next to The Whammy Bar, Dean had spent many a late night at the whimsical coffee shop, sobering up with coffee and a slice of pie after a late night of drinking.

Just a mile down the road was Winchester & Zanna, a law firm owned by Dean’s brother, Sam, and his law partner, Sully. Sam, who’d had a full ride to Stanford, had only been back living in Erzla Cove for five years. After marrying his college sweetheart, Jessica, his brother had made a nice little life for himself.  It hadn’t been long until Sam and Jess made Dean an uncle, when his niece, Millie, was born. Tragically, three years later, Sam and his daughter had returned to stay in the family home in Erzla with Dean, after Jessica died in a house fire. Faulty wiring had been the cause, and Dean knew that for a long time, his brother harbored guilt that he had survived and Jess hadn’t. 

Sam was in a much better place now, Dean mused as he locked the door behind himself, making a beeline for his office and the Keurig machine. It had taken two years for Sam to start dating again, and another year for him to get serious enough to think about getting married again. When Sam proposed to Ruby, Dean took that as his cue to move out of the family home. Despite tearful protests from his niece, and his brother, Dean had insisted.

“You, Ruby, Millie, you make this a home, Sam. It’s what I want.”

“But Dean, this is your home, too. I didn’t come here to just, to just take it over,” Sam pleaded, and Dean smiled softly.

“I know it’s my home, too. It always will be. It’s not like I’m giving back my key,” Dean said, earning himself a watery chuckle. “But you guys need room to grow, and Millie needs to get used to you three as a family unit without me as a buffer.”

“I still don’t like how it feels as though I’m kicking you out.”

“I'll be right above the store. I’ll have privacy again. I can eat cherry pie in my underwear and watch Doctor Sexy till two o’clock in the morning with no judgment,” Dean implored, playfully, and Sam snorted.

“Thanks for that nightmarish image.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean said and Sam sighed.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” he said, finally, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Sammy, I lived by myself long before you moved back home, remember? And I’m hardly alone, you can’t go anywhere in this town without running into someone you know. Pitfalls of living in your hometown all your life,” he said with a shrug.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“You worry too much, Sammy. I’ll be fine.”

It had been six months since Dean had moved out of the house he’d lived in his whole life, and while it had been a weird adjustment, it had also been good. It was nice having his own space, although there were times he missed the early morning snuggle sessions with his niece, and the familiar strums of the Bluey theme song blaring through the house, but that was okay. Maybe he was a bit lonely sometimes, as Sam had feared, but all in all, he had a good life, with good family and friends. 

Sam still worried, though, which was exasperating and endearing all at once. Sam had only been a baby when Mary Winchester died, Dean only four, the result leaving Dean in more of a caretaker role than a big brother. Their dad had done the best he could, with the help of his own father. A widow himself, it was probably one of the only things that Dean’s dad and Grandpa Henry commiserated on together. They tended to fight over everything else, from how to organize the store to which chip vendor to use. When Henry died when Dean was fourteen, it left just John, Dean, and Sam. Dean always knew that Sam was college-bound, and when John died when Dean was twenty-two, he refused Sam’s offer to delay college and help Dean with the store. Dean knew that Sam felt guilt for not staying and helping Dean with the family business after their father died. Like he was the Harry Bailey to Dean’s George, and he’d made Dean miss out on seeing the world or some shit.

Dean had never felt that way. 

Sure, he loved to road trip. Cruising the highway in Baby, his Impala was a great stress relief: Dean, the open road, and Zepp. But despite the joys of the road, he'd always known Erzla Cove was where he belonged. Dean liked planting his roots in one place he could always call home. And sure, while Dean would love to have someone to share it with, he was okay being on his own as well. For the most part. It wasn’t like Dean never dated. He’d had plenty of summer flings, typical of living in a coastal tourist town, he supposed.  In high school, Dean was too busy for more than a janitor closet hook-up, between school and work, and Sammy. During the summer, he let loose a little bit, allowing himself to have fun with visitors to Erzla, knowing it would never go anywhere, and it had been harmless and fun until he’d caught feelings for one of them— unrequited at that —and it wasn’t so fun anymore. Dean had been more cautious as he’d grown older, but still optimistic. No one had ever stuck around for the long haul, though, and Dean had made peace with the fact that romantic love might just be something out of reach for him.

Dean finished his coffee and, leaving the mug on his desk, left the office and went to unlock the receiving door at the back of the store. He had a delivery coming before the store opened, and by the time Dean propped the side door open, the delivery truck was backing into the bay. Dean chatted amiably with the driver as they moved the load from the back of the truck to the pallet he had waiting, tipping him generously before he left.

Dean went back to the front of the store and flipped the closed sign to open. Dean worked in the back of the store, unloading a pallet of bread and pasta to the shelves, one ear trained on the door, the other listening to George Ezra through his ear pod. Dean was usually a classic rock-only kind of guy, but some of that indie rock had snuck in, due to the influence of some of the high schoolers who worked after school.

Open your mind, old man, young Krissy Chambers had told him as she stocked milk in the cooler.

Dean danced around as he shelved, letting the music move him, as he placed boxes of penne and rigatoni in neat rows. Dean bopped his way down the aisles, blocking the shelves and removing out of code items.

A few customers came and went, taking advantage of the self-check-out scanner, but Dean worked quickly, and by the time he was needed behind the register, he had finished stocking and was ready for his second cup of coffee. Dean took out his ear pod and turned on the TV above the register, bypassing the news for some cooking show. The door jingled and Dean looked up from his stool and grinned when he saw Ash Lindberg, owner of The Sherwood Florist.

“How can you have the munchies already? You haven’t even opened yet?” Dean asked and Ash snorted out a laugh. The Sherwood Florist didn’t deal with your typical type of flowers, it was a recreational marijuana dispensary.

“Dude, I don’t smoke on the job, Ash said, glaring at Dean sullenly. They stared each other down for a few beats, before breaking into laughter. 

“Seriously, what’s up?”

“Well, first I need a couple of packs of these,” Ash said, throwing a bag of dill-flavored cashews on the counter. Dean made a face.

“Those look gross.”

“How dare you, they’re delicious.”

Dean snickered, accepting the ten-dollar bill, and quickly making change. “You said first. What’s the second?”

“The second is did you hear that someone bought the Keeper’s Quarters?” Ash asked, tearing open his package of nuts. Dean could smell the dill from across the counter and had to admit it smelled pretty good.

“No, shit, huh? Any word on who, or what they’re gonna do with it?”

“Naw, just saw Crowley out there hammering a big old sold sign in the front.”

The Keeper’s Quarters were originally just that. The quarters of the Glo Loholo lighthouse keeper. Nowadays, aside from the Boston Harbor, the beacons were automated, GPS making manned lighthouses obsolete. When Dean was a kid, the Baker family owned The Keeper's Quarters, and when Mildred Baker’s husband passed unexpectedly, she used the life insurance to put an addition on the property. She ran it as an inn up until retiring a few years back. Mildred moved out with some girlfriends to a retirement community in Arizona, having quite enough New England winters without anyone to keep her warm—her words, not Dean’s. With no family to leave the Quarters to, it had remained on the market for the last two years. Not that Dean was surprised, it was a pretty piece of property worth an even prettier penny.

Throughout the rest of the morning, Dean was told the news over and over again, and when his brother Sammy came by on his lunch break, Dean held up his hand.

“Nope. I already know. Someone bought the Keeper’s Quarters. So unless you know who it is…” Dean narrowed his eyes, noting the shit-eating grin on his brother’s dopey face. “You do?”

Sam shrugged in faux nonchalance. “Sully may or may not have been one of the lawyers at the closing, on Mildred’s behalf.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a bitch Sammy,” he said and Sam laughed.

“Is that any way to speak to the guy who brought you a large regular from Lasa Moz ?” Sam said, playfully waggling the take-out coffee cup in Dean’s face.

Dean snatched it out of Sam’s hand, his homemade coffee pushed aside like a redheaded stepchild. Sam stared at him, amused, as Dean took a healthy sip, and let out a gusty sigh of satisfaction.

“You two need a moment alone?”

“Yes, if you’re not gonna spill, move along,” Dean said, waving his hand in a shooing motion. 

Sam stared at him, flatly for a moment, then: “Okay, so get this: It’s Castiel Novak. Isn’t that great? You guys were like, best friends, weren’t you?“

For a moment, Dean lost his breath. Castiel Novak. That was a name he never thought he’d hear again.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, wow. You sure it’s him?” Dean asked, as casually as he could.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure. Castiel’s not a very common name. He and his family are moving in sometime next week.”

He and his family.  Castiel had a family. It’s not like it was a surprise. It had been over fifteen years since they’d seen each other, ten since Dean had dared to look Castiel up and see his wedding photos all over Facebook.

“Dean, you okay?” The concern in Sam’s voice broke through Dean’s thoughts. “I thought you’d be happy. I know you were really sad when he left, and I always wondered why you didn’t stay in touch.”

“Nah, man, it’s great news,” Dean said, pasting a smile on his face. “I’ll be happy to see him.” He just didn’t know if Cas would feel the same way about Dean.

Dean met Castiel when he was fifteen. He was a quiet kid, with a dry sense of humor once you got to know him. Castiel’s parents were divorced, and it wasn’t amicable by any means. Of the four Novak children, Cas was the only one who had a relationship with his father that went beyond phone calls. Not that Dean recalled Cas and his father being incredibly close; the opposite, in fact. Dean thought it was more of the chance to escape a crowded home and be alone with his thoughts. Castiel’s father was an author, whose books were steeped in angel lore, and Cas and his dad would spend the entire summer at the Keeper's Quarters. Cas said his dad told him he needed to live in his inspiration, his Dad’s obsession with work being a big part of why Naomi Novak left him. Castiel did not write like his father, although he was a voracious reader. Many a summer afternoon was spent sneaking up to the lighthouse tower, sharing snacks, and reading. That had been one of his favorite things about his friendship with Cas. Dean didn’t have to pretend to only be interested in girls and comic books—although he certainly enjoyed those—but with Cas, there were no rolled eyes because he wanted to eat Doritos and read The Lord of the Rings . With Cas, Dean could just be himself, and it was okay. He wasn’t a big brother, or a dutiful son, or the class clown, or a hot hookup. He was just Dean Winchester, a simple guy who liked good food, good conversation, stories about triumph over evil, and a pair of pretty eyes. 

“You gonna get in trouble for telling me who it is?”

Sam leveled him with what Dean could only refer to as a bitchface. “Get in trouble for small-town gossip? Are you new?”

The door jingled and Dean smiled when the sheriff walked in. Sheriff Jody Mills was still considered new to the area, only moving to the town a few years ago. Dean didn’t know much about her, other than that she was a widow, who had lost a child, and when the opportunity arose to leave her life behind, she took it, replacing Erzla’s retiring Sheriff. It had been a long time coming, as the former sheriff, Frank Devereaux, had become steeped in conspiracy theories, causing public spectacles. To the point where he thought Glo Loholo was a beacon for extraterrestrials, and made sure to let everyone know at open mike night at the bar.

“Hey, Sheriff, what can I do for you this morning?”

“Hey Dean, Counselor,” Jody said, grabbing a sleeve of powdered donuts, and slapping them on the counter. “Get the smirk off your face, Dean,” she said and Dean schooled his face from grinning at the obvious cliche in front of him. “I didn’t have time for breakfast.”

Dean held up his hands. “Hey, no judgment here. I got a Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwich waiting to be nuked. It’s Mr. Egg white omelet over here you gotta worry about.”

Ah, there it was again, classic bitchface. “Shut up, Dean,” Sam said. “You hear about someone buying the Keeper’s Quarters, Sheriff?”

Jody nodded, “I did. It’s actually another reason I came by.”

Dean watched as Jody fished in her pocket and pulled out a dollar and change for the donuts. “Even though the keeper’s house was part of the historical society when Mildred ran the inn, she kept the keys to the lighthouse. It made sense since she was on the board, and the lighthouse was connected to her property.”

Dean was well aware. Mildred used to have him, Cas, and Benny polish the railings and wash the windows. Twenty dollars each and a batch of freshly baked hand pies as payment.

“Anyway, when she moved, the keys to the Quarters went to Sully,” Jody said, acknowledging Sam’s partner, “since he was the go-between for Mildred and Mr. Novak, but I know with your family being on the board, and Mildred’s affection for you, that she trusted the lighthouse key with you.”

Dean nodded. It was true, Dean had a key, not that he went up there very often anymore. Dean just made sure he was around to supervise the occasional cleaning crew and the tours that happened during heritage week. Occasionally when he was babysitting Millie, he would bring her up for a picnic on the gallery and watch the pilot whales come through.

“So, Sully called and said the new owner expressed interest in maintaining the lighthouse, and I informed him to let his client know that that was something that would have to be decided at a town meeting, considering that everyone seems pretty happy with how things are now.”

Dean nodded, thoughtfully. “Thanks for the heads up. If Cas wants to come and talk to me about it when he gets settled, he can,” Dean said, ignoring the swooping feeling in his stomach. 

Jody raised a brow. “Cas, huh?”

Sam saved him by answering, “Castiel is an old friend of ours. Well, more Dean’s, but I tagged along with them whenever I could. I’m sure they’ll work something out.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I’m out of town next week and I didn’t want to come back to any drama.”

“Enjoy your vacation, and stay safe, Sheriff.”

Jody’s smile was just a bit sad, and she shook her head. “It’s not a vacation, but I will stay safe,” she said, saluting them with her donuts, before leaving the store.

Dean slapped his hands on the counter. “Alright, unless you have any more news for me, you should get back to work, because Ruby will be pissed if you’re late for date night again.”

“No kidding. You’re still good to pick up Millie from school for me next Friday?”

Dean nodded, “Absolutely.”

“And maybe she could sleep over?” Sam asked, eyes pleading like a puppy dog. “It’s our anniversary, and I wanted to stay in Providence for the night since we have tickets to the Comedy Connection.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem. Me and her will do something fun.”

Sam gave a wry smile. “She always has fun with Uncle Dean. Half the time I think she’d rather live with you.”

“That’s just because I consider apple pie a breakfast food and you don’t.”

Sam barked a laugh. “Jerk.”

“Bitch. Go to work.”

Dean worked the rest of the day in quiet contemplation; Castiel was not far from his mind as he cleaned, restocked, and helped his customers. He passed the reins over to Krissy, who thankfully seemed to sense Dean’s mood, and didn’t press, or ask where Dean was headed when he walked out of the doors to the parking lot instead of taking the back stairs to his apartment.

The Keeper’s Quarters were a short five-minute drive from Winchester General. It sat across from a small, sandy parking lot, meant for tourists of the lighthouse. Dean didn’t have his keys with him, but that didn’t stop him from parking his car and taking the trail next to the fenced-in Quarters. 

Glo Loholo stood at 130 feet, not the tallest lighthouse, but far from short either, as Dean’s thighs could attest from many a staircase climb. There were windows on each of the three levels of the winding stairs, and the view from the top overlooked the many coves hidden beneath the bluff.

The sunset was early this time of year, but the white brick of the lighthouse glowed against the heather-colored sky, and Dean stood for a while, awash in memories, good and torturous. The scent of fried fish and spices hit his nose and the growling of his stomach jarred Dean out of his musings. Deciding he wasn’t quite ready to face the quiet of his apartment, Dean headed down to Aboapri , to visit his buddy Benny. Aboapri , Enochian for Serve, was Benny’s baby, a Creole-inspired restaurant, serving upscale versions of his family’s favorite recipes from New Orleans.  Good food and good conversation weren’t everything, but for tonight, Dean considered it enough.

Chapter Text

His plan for drinks and conversation had turned into Dean eating dinner at the bar of the restaurant with Benny, and matching his friend shot for shot as they complained about their love lives. Or in Dean’s case, his lack thereof. Benny, on the other hand, had found himself in a situation that Dean did not envy in the slightest, such as falling for a married dentist named Garth.

Dean hadn’t even known Benny liked men, and he’d known the dude since middle school. 

“ Should I be offended you never asked me out?” Dean asked, stabbing a plump shrimp and laughing at the way Benny’s face had twisted in mild disgust.

“Picture asking Sam out, and that’s how I woulda felt, brother,” Benny said, flatly and Dean grimaced.

“Point taken.”

 “ʼSides, Benny continued, “I don’t like men. I just like this man.”

This man being Garth Fitzgerald, owner of The Molar Express, Pediatric Dentistry, and a recent transplant to Erzla Cove.

“Dude, how the fuck did you even meet him? He’s a kid’s dentist, and you’re thirty-four.”

“He has his lunch break here. Came in one day for a po’boy, and now he’s here every week, chatting my ear off,” Benny said, but there was no annoyance in his voice.

“Is he like, flirting with you?” Dean asked and Benny gave a soft huff of laughter. “I don’t think so. He’s just… nice.”

“And married,” Dean reminded him.

Benny dropped his head to the counter with a thud. “And married,” he mumbled into the tabletop. 

Dean signaled the bartender. “One more round over here, Andy.”

“Am I evil for hoping he gets divorced?” Benny asked, miserably.

Dean shook his head no, enjoying the slight buzz he had going already.  “Evil would be hoping he becomes a widow.”

Andy cleared his throat, and placed two more glasses of whiskey in front of them,  side-eyeing Benny all the while.

“Don’t you judge me, I know you're juggling three different check-out girls from the Gas-N-Sip,” Benny groused.

Dean snickered, “Whoo Boy, that ain’t gonna end well,” he said as he watched Andy walk away, obviously rattled.

“You have any idea when Cas is coming back to town?” Benny asked. Dean picked at one of his leftover fries. “Nah, just sometime next week.”

 “It’ll be good to see him after all these years.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, softly. The funny thing was that Benny and Cas had a rocky relationship at first. Their personalities were very different, Cas being so blunt and literal, and Benny full of sass and euphemisms.  Sometimes, they vied for Dean’s attention. Benny would want to go to the movies, and Cas would want to explore the Erzla caves. Benny would want to watch baseball while Cas wanted to visit the apiary, and it had been Dean that had to stand between them while they bickered.

“I’m only here for the summers, and you get to spend time with Dean all year. Don’t you think it’s fair if I choose the activity?” Castiel peered at Benny, dark brows furrowed in confusion.

“You want to hike down to a bunch of caves I’ve been to a bunch of times, to look at boring old carvings?” Benny swiveled his head towards Dean, “And this is the crazy aunt I want to take on the road?”

“I’m not your aunt,” Castiel cut in before Dean could respond, to Benny’s bewilderment.  Dean sighed, hanging his head in frustration, before stepping in to referee.

“Alright, that’s enough. Here’s how it’s gonna be. Movies first, 'cause it’s cheaper during the day,” Dean said and no one could argue with that. “And Cas and I will go to the caves after. I gotta babysit Sammy anyway, and he likes that historical shit.”

The memory made him smile. 

“You remember that time he made Chastity run crying from the arcade?” Benny said, and Dean laughed out loud. Chastity Virshilas, head cheerleader, how could he forget? She had been good at the tumbles and cheers, but as a human, she was a total bitch. Benny, who moved to Erzla from New Orleans with his MawMaw freshman year, had often been teased by Chastity and her friends for his thrift-shop clothes and Procuts hair. One night, Dean, Cas, and Benny had taken Sammy to the arcade to blow some of their allowance, and Chastity had been there, smirking at Benny in his jeans and a tee shirt that had seen better days. 

 “Is this where you bring your dates, Benny? Cause quarter games and penny candy are all you can afford?”

“God, she was such a bitch,” Dean said, signaling Andy for more shots. 

Benny laughed. “I’ll never forget, Cas walked right up to her, looked her in the eyes, and said, ‘I understand you’re bitter that your dad Gene left. It’s not your fault he hates his job at the post office. But that is not an excuse to mock my friend.’” He said the words in a lower register, mimicking Castiel’s gravelly voice and Dean chuckled.

 “Yeah, Cas and his no filter to the rescue.”

“ I’d have felt bad for her if she hadn’t been torturing me all year.”

Dean remembered that being the turning point in Cas and Benny’s relationship. They were much more considerate of each other and Dean after that point. 

“Yeah, Cas got to hear all the town gossip, living at the Quarters. I still can’t believe he’s coming back.”

“He got a family?” Benny asked and Dean sipped at his fresh whiskey before answering. 

“I imagine so, it’s been years.”

When Benny just stared at him pointedly, Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m a special case, my expectations are too high,” he said with a laugh. He was only partly joking. It wasn't that his expectations were too high, per se,  it was the fact that he refused to settle. He'd seen true love with his parents when they were alive and with his grandparents and if he couldn’t have that for himself, then he’d rather be alone.

“It would be nice to find out why he dropped off the face of the earth like that. “ Benny said. “I mean, I get he had family stuff going on with his dad and all, but I kinda wanna kick his ass, honestly.” The words were said with no heat and Dean swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat by downing the last of his whiskey.

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Dean muttered, and Benny looked at him knowingly. Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Benny knew that Dean might have had something to do with Castiel’s radio silence. Dean was thankful his friend hadn’t pushed it. Dean had never told Benny about his feelings for Cas, but Benny wasn’t stupid, or blind. He’d seen how Cas leaving had affected him.

“Well, brother,” Benny said, standing up and reaching over the bar himself for the whiskey bottle. He poured another shot and raised his glass. “Here’s to second chances.”

Dean didn’t know about that, but he toasted back anyway. He could always hope that things with Castiel wouldn’t be awkward, that they could co-exist peacefully, despite how his old best friend felt about him. 

Dean’s palms pushed into his eyes as he sat straight up in bed, the alarm blaring next to him. Rubbing away sleep, he blindly reached out and slammed the button, cutting Hendrix off mid-wail. Dean’s stomach rolled for an instant, nausea and a headache vying for attention and coming in at a solid tie.

Dean collapsed back on his bed, muttering into his pillow, “Mistakes were made.”

After closing down the bar with Benny, Andy was nice enough to drive him home. Dean vaguely remembered thanking Andy by calling him a real good guy for a man whore . He made a mental note to give Andy a fifty-dollar credit on his store account.

Dean forced himself out of bed and into the shower. He could feel the hum of coolers under his feet and the faint sound of The King coming out of the heater vents that told him Marcy had opened the store, as she usually did for Dean on his Friday mornings off. 

After a shower, he felt relatively human, and Dean made himself a pot of coffee, to fill his travel mug with. If he was going to walk in the March wind to get to his car, then he was damn well going to do it with a hot cup of coffee in his hand. 

Dean put on his boots and jacket, walking out the door with the travel mug in his grasp. He popped his head in the store to say hi and to make sure Marcy was set for the day.

“You got everything you need?” Dean asked, not so subtlety looking past Marcy to the large tupperware container resting on the counter, next to the cash register.

Marcy shook her head, rolling her eyes playfully. “You mean did I bring you peach cobbler?” 

“Maybe?” Dean grinned widely as Marcy made a show of sticking the container in the ice cream cooler, where she usually stuck Dean’s treats. 

To be fair, Marcy made the best peach cobbler on the cove and he was not above begging.

Assured that she was happily behind the counter with a sudoku book and Elvis crooning in the background, Dean was soon on his way into town.

It was overcast and chilly when Dean stepped outside. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and began the brisk walk. It was just after ten and he would have to get back to the store by one to relieve Marcy, but it was plenty of time for the twenty-minute walk to the restaurant. 

He passed the Keeper's Quarters along the way and tried to imagine what it would feel like to see Cas and his family out in the yard, cars in the driveway, and decided that regardless of the past, he would really like to see his old friend again. Benny had asked if Cas had a family. Dean didn’t know if Castiel had kids, but once, about ten years ago, curiosity and Jack Daniels had gotten the better of him. Dean had snuck onto Sam’s computer and used his Facebook account to search Castiel up. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but still, the wedding photos were a bittersweet discovery. Twenty-five-year-old Castiel was a little broader than eighteen-year-old Castiel, but his smile was the same. Wide and bright as he gazed at his bride. Dean smiled wistfully and continued on his way, hands in his pockets as he walked the few blocks back to the restaurant. Dean still had his keys with him, as he had willingly left his Baby behind for the safer route of Andy driving him home.

Aboapri’s lot was empty save Dean’s car. He unlocked the Impala and slid behind the wheel, blowing air into his chilly hands before starting the engine and blasting the heat. Dean still had a few hours before he had to relieve Marcy and take over the store. He decided to go over to Lasa Moz and get himself a piece of pie for lunch, and despite the cobbler waiting for him later, he refused to judge himself for it. Pie was the ultimate comfort food. It was Christmas, it was Sunday dinner, and it was sex in a pie crust.

So, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was pretty damn close.

Dean went inside and stood behind the counter surveying his choices and unashamedly ordered a cherry pie and a pecan pie, promising he would save the cherry pie for when his niece slept over the following weekend but knowing that he would be back here ordering a new one in a few days. 

He drove back to his apartment and put the pies upstairs in his refrigerator then made his way downstairs to relieve Marcy. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Dean waited on customers, blocked shelves, and cleaned when an exuberant five-year-old knocked over a sugar cookie display. That five-year-old being his niece, Millie.

“Sorry, Uncle Dean!,” his niece said, looking up at him with big brown eyes, framed by wild golden curls.

“No worries, short stack. Can you get me the broom and dustpan behind the counter?” Dean asked, and Millie jumped eagerly, bits of colored sugar clinging to her fuzzy yellow sweater. 

“Yup,” she said brightly, running to the counter and leaving a trail of sugar cookie crumbs behind her.

“If you sold those in a tied-off bag instead of those flimsy plastic containers, they wouldn’t explode like that when little tornados run through the room,” Ruby smirked down at him, dark eyes alight with amusement. His brother’s girlfriend was still dressed in scrubs, which meant she was either just getting out of work or just going in, and she was here to ask him to keep an eye on Millie.

“Hey, I just sell them, I don’t package them,” Dean said. “What’s up? Pick up an extra shift?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for the last minute, but Eve has the flu, and Bela’s still on vacation, I should have called first but—”

“Hey, no worries, I’m happy to have her.”

“Awesome. Cause I already texted Sam that she was here. Hey!” Ruby crouched down, tugging on one of Millie’s curls. “I gotta go, munchkin.”

Millie wrapped her arms around Ruby’s legs, squeezing dramatically tight. “Bye, Ruby, I love you.”

Dean saw the soft smile that crept on Ruby’s face, and she ruffled Millie’s hair. “Love you too, kid. Behave for Uncle Dean.”

“I will!” Millie smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. 

“When did you lose your tooth?” Dean asked as he finished sweeping up the broken cookies. 

“Last night,” Millie said. “I got a dollar. I asked Daddy how come Bryson down the street gotted five dollars when he lost his tooth and I only got one.”

“Oh yeah? And what did he say?” Dean asked, bringing Millie into his office so she could sit at his desk and color.

“Daddy says that the tooth fairy doesn’t set the prices, that he does, a’cuz he told her to give me one dollar like he usta get, cause it’ll help teach me sponserbility and to ‘ppreciate what I have.” Millie said solemnly and Dean bit his cheek, holding back a wide smile. Dean cleared his throat and nodded.

“Your dad’s a pretty smart guy.”

Millie shrugged. “I guess,” she said. “I still wouldn't mind $5.”

Dean laughed out loud. “Alright, short stack,. You can either stay in here and color or you can come sit behind the counter with me and I'll put something on the TV above the register, but you have to light somewhere because it's busy in here in the afternoon.”

Millie chose coloring and Dean set her up with the 24-pack of crayons he kept in the desk drawer for just such an occasion and a short pile of printer paper that he knew she would go through within twenty minutes.

 The afternoon passed fairly quickly with Millie running in and out of the office to show him her drawings. 

“Uncle Dean? How come we live in a town of the Angels?”

“Well, This was where me and your dad grew up and where your grandpa John grew up and you're grandpa Henry before him. And Grandma Mary always liked it here because she liked to think that it meant that angels were watching over us.”

“You should pray to the angels for a wife,” Millie said smartly and Dean heard a few snickers in the candy aisle. 

“But what if I want a husband?” Dean challenged and Millie pondered for a second.

“That would be okay,” she decided, “and I would be the flower girl.”

“Well, obviously,” Dean said, leaning down to smack a loud kiss on her cheek.

He pictured it, later on, while lying in bed. An angel standing in his kitchen, gifting him a spouse with a big red bow on their head. He tried to envision his favorite model, Carmen Porter. But somehow the vision in his head kept shifting from the curvy voluptuous woman to a broad-shouldered man with bright blue eyes and messy dark hair. After a while, Dean stopped fighting it and let the wishful thinking carry him on to sleep.

Chapter Text

Castiel looked out the window as his dad’s old Continental rolled to a stop. The sign above the old-fashioned-looking store said Winchester General. Castiel expected his dad to get out of the car, but instead, he turned in his seat to look at Castiel directly. His eyes, a lighter shade of blue than his own, smiled back at him.

“Before we get to the inn, I just wanted to take a minute and say thanks for coming to stay with me. Ever since your mom and I divorced, your siblings don’t seem to want anything to do with me.”

Castiel couldn’t deny it. Of all the Novak children, it was only Castiel who’d accepted the invitation to spend the summer in Erzla Cove. As an avid reader, Castiel couldn’t help but want to see the place that was the inspiration for his father's works, works that had never really reached a broad audience and had so often taken priority over his wife and children. Chuck Novak—aka Carver Edlund—was the author of the Supernatural series, a series about angels, demons, and bonded brothers that had captivated him from the time he was old enough to read them. Castiel knew the town they were staying in was steeped in angel lore, and he was eager to try out his Enochian skills, the angel language that was woven throughout his father’s stories.  

All of the Novak children were named for angels. There was Lucifer, who in Castiel’s opinion, lived a little much to his namesake’s legacy. He was currently flunking out of college. Then there was Gabriel. He was a senior, two years above Castiel, and his twin, Emmanuel. Gabriel was fun, but his trickster attitude had him riding the line in school, and Castiel was frankly surprised he hadn’t been expelled after the last prank where he filled the swimming pool with gelatin. Castiel was positive that there had been some greasing of the palms on his mother’s behalf to make that disappear from his record. Castiel’s twin, Emmanuel James was very much the opposite of Castiel. Where Castiel was quiet and reserved, E.J. was open and free-spirited. E.J. made friends easily, dragging Castiel along with him to parties, and making him join the band. Castiel wound up dropping out, but E.J. was now the lead Clarinetist. Castiel had hoped that his twin would want to come to Erzla Cove with him and his father, but instead he was attending Summer Discovery, a camp for pre-med teens. Where Castiel had aspirations of being an editor, E.J. knew at a young age that healing was his calling. He would miss his brother immensely, but Castiel was supportive of his twin, even if it meant a summer alone with his estranged father.

“Anyway,” Chuck continued, pulling Castiel back from his wandering thoughts, “I really think you’ll like it here, Castiel. There are caves to explore, a beach, oh, and the best part? We’re right next to a lighthouse. The views are amazing and I already have Mildred’s permission to let you up there to read. I know you like your solitude.”

Castiel was pleasantly surprised at his dad’s thoughtfulness. 

“I’m happy to be here, Dad,” Castiel said and found himself realizing it was true. Not just to escape from his older siblings, or his bitter mother, but to have a place that was just his, even if it was only for a little while.

“Alright, let’s go. I’m sure you wanna grab some snacks,” Chuck said as he opened the door. 

Castiel got out of the car and followed his father to the door. “This place has been around for years, the owner’s name is John, and he’s third generation.”

The bell jingled when they walked into the store. The inside was wood-toned like the outside and it smelled not unpleasantly of cedar. There were barrels on the endcaps filled with saltwater taffy, and a cooler lined the walls with novelty sodas as well as mainstream Coke and Pepsi. Castiel’s dad wandered off towards the back of the store where a sign hung proclaiming fishing applications.

Castiel walked towards the front of the store, grabbing some honey sticks along the way. He paused at the magazine rack and noticed a boy who looked about nine sitting against the back wall, book on his knees, floppy brown hair falling across his eyes. Castiel wondered how he could even read through that curtain of hair.

There was a tall, broad-shouldered man behind the register, with short dark hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. Castiel looked behind him, noting that his father had moved on to the potato chip aisle. A side door banged open, loudly, startling Castiel, and he watched as a boy who looked to be his age strode up to the register. The boy slapped his hands on the register, drawing the attention of the man behind it, and said in a loud voice, “I’ll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols.”

The man, who Castiel realized by his name tag was John, merely arched a brow and cuffed the boy on the back of the head.

“Knock it off, Dean, finish blocking the pasta aisle.”

The boy, Dean, chuckled good-naturedly, and turned around, stopping short when he saw Castiel.

“Hey,” Dean said, smiling brightly, and Castiel noticed he had green eyes and freckles, and a friendly face. “Oh, hey, Mr. Novak! Welcome back.”

Castiel looked over his shoulder and saw his dad behind him.

“Nice to see you, Dean, John. How’d the winter treat you?”

“It was windy and bitter as hell, but we survived. Happy to see you back, Mildred told me you’d be arriving soon. This your boy?” John asked, nodded at Castiel with a smile.

“One of them,” Chuck said. “This is Castiel.”

Castiel lifted a hand in greeting. “Hello.”

“Heya, Cas,” Dean said, flashing that bright smile again. “Nice to meetcha,” he said, holding out a hand, and Castiel shook it, bemusedly. “I’m Dean, that nerd over there—”

“Jerk!” came a young voice from behind a book.

“—that’s my little brother, Sammy. You wanna come to a bonfire tonight?”

beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep

Castiel jolted up in bed, the blaring of his seven o'clock phone alarm piercing through the dream of his childhood. He hit dismiss, aggravated that he had forgotten to deactivate it when he and Jack got in that night. They had taken an 8 pm flight out of SJC and it was nearly 2 am when the shuttle from TF Green dropped him and his droopy-eyed son off in front of their new home.

Jack had been too sleepy for a tour and Cas was frankly too exhausted to give him one, and just directed the eleven-year-old off to his room. Their bed sets had been shipped from California earlier in the week. Boxes had been delivered and placed in the foyer, taped and labeled, but they remained that way for now. Castiel and Jack had spent the night in pajamas, sleeping bags, and pillows he had dug out from the box labeled ‘first night at home’.

Castiel rifled through the box again, pulling out the clothes he had packed for the next morning. Dressed in socks, sweats, and a sweater, Castiel looked around his room. He had taken the master with an ensuite on the first floor. There was a window seat that looked out on the water and the lighthouse, and Castiel was eager to cozy up on it with his editor’s stylus.

For now, he headed to the other end of the hall and peeked in on Jack. As suspected, his son was sprawled across the bed, one leg in the sleeping bag, the other out, sawing logs into his pillow. 

Leaving Jack to sleep, Castiel began the arduous process of unpacking. He started with the kitchen, happy that the cheerful lemon yellow from his childhood remained; some fresh white trim had been recently added.

Castiel put mugs into the cabinet, and pans away as quietly as he could, trying not to wake Jack. He wasn’t too worried, Castiel was fairly certain that Jack could sleep through cannon fire.

The sun was bright, cascading through the kitchen windows, and it made Castiel smile to see the ocean glittering before him.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around, Castiel had the kitchen and living room unpacked. Not that there was much to be done in there. The only furniture he’d shipped from his old apartment were his and Jack’s beds, the entertainment center, and the large beige sectional. Emmanuel liked to tease he bought it to match his trench coat and old jacket he’d found in a thrift shop when he was eight. It was oversized then, but fit him just perfectly now, thank you very much.

He would have to go shopping for a new coffee table and end tables, but for now all of his and Jack’s favorite nature documentaries were back in their homes under the entertainment center, along with the flatscreen that sat on top. Castiel hooked it up, happy when it turned on without a problem, having called to have the service switched on before he left. 

Castiel, who had successfully unpacked the coffee maker in the morning, decided it was time for another cup, and he sat on the cushy stools at the built-in island. He could remember sitting on these very stools, though they had been reupholstered over the years, with Dean and Sam, and their friend Benny. Mildred would give them lemonade and snacks before shooing them off to the lighthouse with Old English oil and rags for dusting and polishing. 

It wasn’t until after ten that Jack came wandering in, blond hair up in tufts and sleep in his eyes. Castiel chuckled as Jack shuffled into the living room, throwing himself on the familiar comfort of the couch.

“You want some cereal, Jack?” Castiel asked, earning himself a grunt of affirmation, too busy playing with the TV to answer properly. Castiel filled a deep plastic bowl with Krunch Cookie Krunch, a knockoff version of Uncle Gabriel’s favorite cereal, and brought it over to him.

“Don’t spill or it’s kitchen only,” Castiel said, smiling when Jack landed on an episode of Henry Danger . 

Castiel opened the boxes labeled bathroom, putting Jack’s beach towels, and half of the bath towels in the bathroom down the hall from his room, along with his kid toothpaste and electric Minecraft toothbrush. Castiel knew Jack would get a kick out of having his own bathroom, and he made a mental note to grab some extra soap and shampoo at the store later today. Or maybe tomorrow, depending on how he was feeling. His car wouldn’t be arriving until sometime in the morning the next day, and as eager as Castiel was to stop in at Winchester General, he was still pretty drained, and he didn’t know if he had the courage to see his old friend without all his wits about him. 

Castiel had waited a long time to see Dean Winchester again and he wanted to be at his best when he did. Not an exhausted, emotional wreck. The dream had shaken him. How had so much time passed? Dean had been the first friend he made, during his summers at Erzla Cove. He’d towed Castiel along with him that very first night, introducing him to Benny, another new transplant to the cove, with a wide smile and Louisiana accent. Dean had made sure he met all of his friends and included him in card games and campouts on the beach. Dean was like E.J. in that way, and Castiel had been so grateful. Chuck had, too, though Castiel suspected that was partly due to Dean being an avid fan of his obscure little series.

Castiel had spent three amazing summers in Erzla Cove, and he could hardly believe after several years he was finally back. He only wished it hadn’t taken him so long.

Castiel sat down on the sofa next to his son, careful of his coffee.  He nudged Jack with his knee. “Hey? How about after breakfast, we unpack our rooms and then we take a walk on the beach. Sound good?”

“Sure. Can we go up in the lighthouse?” Jack asked, face alight with excitement.

Castiel hedged, “Probably not today. I don’t have a key to Glo Loholo. Tomorrow we’ll go to the store and talk to Dean. See if he won’t let us borrow it.”

“Who is Dean?” Jack asked around a mouthful of cereal.

“Jack, chew with your mouth closed.”

Jack swallowed, then grinned. “Sorry.”

“Dean is a very old friend of mine who I haven’t seen in many years.”

“Then how do you know he’s still there?” Jack asked. 

“Because the woman who used to own this house, Miss Mildred? She told me when she sold it to me.”

“Cool,” Jack said, turning his focus back to the TV, attention back on his cereal, and on the adventures of Kid Danger and Captain Man.

They eventually got their rooms unpacked and made their way outside. Castiel walked down the path by the lighthouse that led down to the beach, Jack chattering along next to him. 

“Wow,” Jack said when he took in the view. When they had lived in California, it was in the city, and there hadn’t been many trips to the beach. Their apartment had an indoor and outdoor pool, and Jack did most of his swimming while Castiel worked, poolside. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Castiel said, setting off to the right. The top of their house could be seen from the beach, and it made Castiel smile. The wind whipped and Castiel was glad for his hoodie as it seemed to blow straight through his ears. He’d made Jack wear a hat and a jacket because no matter how bright the sun was shining, the March wind by the ocean could be brutal. 

They walked about half a mile down the beach, passing stragglers along the way. Jack waved at everyone because, like his uncle E.J., he had inherited the social gene that Castiel seemed born without. Jack ran on ahead, chatting with an older man with a metal detector and it wasn’t until Castiel caught up that he realized it was Donatello. Donatello Redfield, the librarian, who when Castiel was sixteen, caught him and Dean and Benny trying to smuggle Playboy magazines out in their backpacks. 

John had sentenced Dean to work on the Fourth of July weekend for that stunt, but Cas had been a good friend and hung out at the store, and they watched the fireworks from the parking lot with PB&J sandwiches and beer Dean snuck out of the cooler. 

“Look at you, all grown up,” Donatello said, shaking Castiel’s hand. “You’re back for good, I hear?”

“I am,” Castiel said. “How have you been? Are you still running the library?” Castiel asked and Donatello chuckled. 

“Oh, no. I retired about five years ago. Spend most of my days down here or on the boat.”

“Sounds like a good deal,” Castiel said with a laugh.

They parted ways with Castiel promising to let Donatello take him and Jack out fishing some time. It was a good feeling, to be welcomed back so quickly. 

They continued down the beach and Castiel called Jack over. “See over there? Those are the Erzla caves.” 

“Whoa! Who made those?” Jack asked, excitedly running towards the wave-cut caverns.

Castiel laughed. “No one made them. They’re formed by the erosive action of the waves as they crash against the Rocks. Over the years, they break through the rocks and create these cavities that get bigger and bigger over time until they form these sea caves.”

“Are these the caves with the angel carvings you were telling me about?” Without waiting for an answer, Jack ran off into the caves to look around. Castiel looked out on the water. The tide would be coming in soon, so they only had a few minutes if they wanted to get back in time without getting wet.

Castiel followed Jack around the cave, letting him discover the markings instead of telling him where they were, because where was the fun in that? 

“What does this say?” Jack asked, looking at one of the markings above the mouth of the cave.

“ Boaluahe Geh Lansh . It means, Love, thou art Power,” it was a more romantic notion that surprised Castiel, considering what he knew of angels from the bible. Unlike the cherubs portrayed in art, Angels were warriors of God. Castiel had a hard time picturing them waxing poetic about the power of love; still, the sentiment was quite lovely. 

Jack continued to discover more markings and Castiel put his Enochian to use, entertaining Jack by using a deep, guttural alien voice. 

When he told Jack it was time to go, he was met with whining until he said they could order pizza and watch whatever movies he wanted until bedtime.

Halfway through The Two Towers , Jack fell asleep, head loling against Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head and settled back to finish the movie.

It was the right thing, moving here, Castiel could feel it. And despite the unfinished business with Dean, which he had every hope to resolve, Castiel felt more at peace than he had in ages. He also felt closer to his dad. He’d been gone twelve years now and sometimes it still felt like yesterday. But being here in Erzla Cove made it feel like Chuck was with him in a way that taking care of him in California never did.

Saving Return of the King for another day, Castiel nudged Jack awake and sent him off to bed. Tomorrow he would unpack his home office, having chosen the upstairs bedroom his dad used to stay in when they came to the Quarters and then afterward, he would go to Winchester General and see Dean.

Chapter Text

“Thanks for hanging out with me today.”

The words were spoken quietly, so quiet that Castiel had to strain to hear them. It was a beautiful July day. Dean and Castiel sat at the top of the lighthouse, a thick comforter from the hope chest in his room at the Quarters, spread out of the floor of the gallery. They both sat in tee shirts and jeans, a bag of Doritos and books between them. 

Seagulls squawked, flying in the clear blue sky, and Dean’s gaze was focused on the water.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Dean. You know I always appreciate our talks, and our time together. Although I admit it’s concerning me, that you seem sad. Did something happen? It’s not like you to avoid a party, and Benny said Lisa’s party is supposed to turn into an  ‘all night beach rager.’” Castiel air quoted to Dean’s amusement.

“Yeah, well, watching a bunch of my friends get trashed and puke in the sand dunes isn’t as much fun as being out here with you.”

For as warm as that made Castiel, he was sure there was more to his friend's decision to ditch the social event of the summer to read with Cas at the lighthouse.

“‘Sides, my dad’s kinda being a douche.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked fingers paused on turning the page of his book.

“It’s he and my mom’s anniversary, and he uh, he started drinking early. Thankfully Sammy isn’t home.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. Sam, Castiel knew, was camping with his best friend Sully’s family this weekend.

“He didn’t used to be this bad, you know? I mean, he was always sad on the holidays and her birthday, but he always held it together, you know? It’s like, the older we get, the less he thinks he has to, and it’s like, Sam is still a kid, you know?”

Castiel did not point out that technically, Dean was still a kid too, knowing it wouldn’t be helpful.

“I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with that. Why didn’t you say that in any of your emails this year?”

Dean shrugged, a blush turning his golden freckles ginger. “I don’t know. You got your own stuff going on, I guess I didn’t want to bother you.”

It was true, a lot had gone on over the school year. Lucifer had dropped out of college, pulled money from his trust fund, and moved to New York. Gabriel had graduated, and much to their mother’s horror, began work for a porn studio called Casa Erotica.  E.J. was spending another summer at pre-med camp but had promised to spend Christmas break with Castiel and Chuck in Cas’ dad’s Santa Cruz apartment. That news had been met with their mother exclaiming that if they wanted to be with their father so much, then they should just move out. E.J. had ignored her threats, but Castiel had spent the last month of the school year studying for finals and packing his room. If Naomi had been shocked by Castiel’s choice to call her on her threat, she didn’t let it show on her face as he loaded up the back of Chuck’s truck with his things. His random emails from Dean were a bright spot during this time, and Castiel told him so.

“I would have been happy to listen, Dean, as you did with me. Don’t shut me out, next time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean muttered, clearly embarrassed, and covered it up with an obscene mouthful of Doritos.

“If you choke on those, I’m not giving you mouth-to-mouth,” Castiel said soberly, making Dean laugh, spraying orange crumbs on the blanket.

“You’re so gross,” Castiel said, amused and disgusted at the same time. “Wash that down,” he said, shoving a cold water bottle into Dean’s hands. He unscrewed the cap, chugging the water down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’re kind of the best, Cas,” Dean said, staring out at the water, a hint of pink tinging his cheeks. 

Castiel felt a wave of affection for his friend and tugged him into a tight hug. Dean smelled of sunblock and sweat and Castiel was surprised to find he rather liked it.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean muttered into his shoulder.

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel murmured back.

Beepbeeobeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep

Castiel woke up with a groan. The dream had left him unsettled and more anxious than ever to see Dean. The thing was, he hadn’t expected the last time he saw Dean to actually be the last time he saw Dean. Life just worked out that way and seemed to snowball over him to the point where he didn’t think he’d ever see a way out. Grief and responsibility could do that to you. 

Castiel had other reasons for coming back home aside from wanting to raise Jack in a place that meant warmth and comfort to him. It was more than being surrounded by all of the things that had helped create the bond he had with his father, too. Castiel was ashamed to say that when he had finally climbed out of his grief, he’d been too afraid to reach out to his friend, and by then, Castiel had traded one major responsibility for another, in the form of a four-year-old little boy.  Castiel was not unaware that it was more than just Dean to whom he owed an apology, and he made a mental note to take Jack to Benny’s restaurant to celebrate his first week of school. The truth was, that although Castiel had stayed away, he did try to keep tabs on his old friends. He’d been so proud to read the four-star reviews of Aboapri. He lurked on the General Store’s Instagram page, though it mostly just featured the weekly sales. But there was one picture of Dean, leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest; Short, brown hair in spiky tufts, and that infectious smile curving his lips, that made something not unlike yearning ache in his chest. 

Go back to Erzla , his father had said on his deathbed. The light will lead you home.

Dean embodied light.

Castiel knew Dean was single, Mildred had been sure to drop that bit of information the last time they spoke. Part of Castiel didn’t dare to hope to have a second chance with Dean, but the rest of him was trying to remember his promise to his father to be more optimistic and embrace life.

The sound of footsteps down the hall and the television coming to life was a reminder to Castiel that laying in bed daydreaming about seeing Dean again wasn’t going to help him with his cause.

Castiel got up and made his bed, so he wouldn’t be tempted to climb back in, and went to take a shower. Castiel was all nerves and excitement, and he decided to give in to good old-fashioned stress relief. His hand drifted down his chest, following his happy trail down to his cock, giving the organ a few tugs. Castiel tipped his head back, letting the hot water soak his hair and sluice down his body as he slowly lengthened in his hand. It was a little rough without lube and he paused in his ministration to squirt some conditioner in his palm. The next time he grabbed his cock he sighed, the slick glide so much better, and his body hummed in pleasure. Hand braced against the shallow wall, Castiel watched the plump head of his dick slide in and out of his fist, the wet sound of it adding to his arousal. Castiel quickened his pace, closing his eyes as he got close. There were green eyes in freckles in his mind’s eye when he came with a silent gasp, years of living with a child making Castiel the master of the silent orgasm.

Castiel panted through his release, then quickly finished showering before Jack came looking for him, Castiel felt loose and limbered as he finished dressing, and decided to make french toast, much to Jack’s delight.

“Are you excited to start school next week?” Castiel asked as they sat at the breakfast bar, and he frowned when Jack shrugged.

“I guess.”

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know,” Castiel said gently.

“What if they don’t like me?” Jack asked, eyes staring down into a pool of maple syrup. 

“Jack, you are a kind, funny, smart kid. I can’t imagine anyone not liking you.”

Jack smiled. “You have to say that. You’re my dad.”

Castiel chuckled. “Doesn’t make it any less true. And hey, you know what? The principal is an old friend of mine.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm,” he said over his coffee cup. He’d been surprised when the welcome packet had come in the mail. When he knew Meg Masters, she had been bound and determined to leave Erzla Cove and move to LA and become an actress. He would have to ask her what changed when he got the chance to see her again. 

“I want you to shower after you finish,” Castiel said, rising from the table to rinse his plate and stick it in the dishwasher.

“Do I have to?”

“Do you want to smell like syrup all day?”

“Kind of,” Jack answered honestly and Castiel rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yes, well I don’t want you to. Shower, then get dressed, we have some things to do after I get my office set up.”

Castiel’s office was larger than he was used to. His office in his apartment was half the size of the room at the Quarters. When he was a kid, this was his father’s room. The bed was gone, and in its place was the desk that had been shipped from home. Castiel spent the rest of the morning hooking up his desktop and only cursing a handful of times when it gave him some trouble. He hung up a few framed posters of book covers from some of his authors, and some pictures of Jack and his siblings.

By the time he was finished, it was nearly eleven. A loud rumble down the road let him know that his car had arrived and Castiel tipped the driver generously.

With a jackhammer pounding in his chest Castiel called downstairs to his son. “Jack? It’s time to go to the store.”

Castiel drove the familiar route to Winchester General, while Jack chattered in the passenger seat and it was only a few minutes before he was pulling into the parking lot. There were only a few other cars which told him the store wasn't that busy, and for that, he was grateful. If Dean asked him to leave, Castiel could do without witnesses to watch him crumble.

Castiel tugged his trenchcoat a little more tightly around himself when the wind hit, glad that he had made Jack wear a jacket instead of just a sweatshirt. Only ever being in Erzla Cove in the summertime, he had certainly underestimated the winter months. Castiel was eager for the solstice because it meant the return of spring.

Steeling himself, Castiel pushed open the door of the store. The familiar scent of cedar and coffee nearly took his breath away as walked into the warmth of the store.

“Why don’t you go pick us out some snacks for later,” Castiel said, giving permission for Jack to wander the store. 

Castiel saw a display of honey sticks and nostalgia had him picking up a few. He walked towards the front and noted a handful of people in line. Dean hadn’t noticed him yet, but Castel had certainly noticed him. If Dean as a teenager had been handsome, Dean as an adult was stunning. His hair was a little longer than the website photo, Not as long as Sam’s. But long enough for someone to run their fingers through it or grip it—Castiel stopped his thoughts from drifting and waited his turn in line.

Heart in his throat, Castiel approached the register. Dean was still looking down at the drawer, and taking a chance, Castiel slammed his palms down on the counter.

“I’ll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols,” he said, repeating the first words he had ever heard Dean say out loud.

For a moment there was nothing but shocked silence, as Dean's verdant eyes widened, his mouth falling open in shock. Finally, shock gave way to happiness as Dean’s lips curved up in a soft smile. It almost took Castiel out at the knees.

“Heya, Cas.”

Chapter Text

“I’ll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols.”

Dean looked up from his drawer and lost his breath at the sound of that whiskey-over-gravel voice. 

There his old friend stood before him; no more a baby-faced teen, but a man, with plush pink lips, big, blue, heavy-lidded eyes, and scruff on his beautiful jawline. Somehow Castiel Novak had become more gorgeous with age, and that just wasn’t fair. For a moment, Dean was frozen, until it registered. Cas was here, and he wasn’t angry, he was teasing, and Dean’s shock melted into joy. Smiling warmly, Dean finally said the words he had been waiting to say again for years.

“Heya, Cas.”

“Dad, you don’t smoke cigarettes,” came a young voice from behind Castiel, and Cas turned, smiling.

“I was only joking, Jack. Dean, this is my son Jack."

Get it together, Winchester, Dean scolded himself, and the way Castiel angled a look at him, brow furrowed in concern, told him he probably appeared shaken. 

"Ah, hey, Jack, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Dean," Dean said with a nod at the quiet child, dirty blonde hair flopping over his forehead. His fair hair and complexion didn't hide the resemblance to Cas, though. A subtle glance showed no wedding ring and Dean couldn’t help but wonder about the boy’s mother.

“Hi,” Jack said, sounding a little shy.

“I heard you moved next to the lighthouse, is that right?” Dean asked, and Jack nodded up at him.

“Well that’s awesome because I have something for you,” Dean said, reaching under the tray in his drawer and pulling out an envelope. “I had this especially made for you,” Dean said with a side wink at Cas, and handing the envelope to Jack, watching him open it with a look of concentration on his face. When the key fell into his palm, he looked up at Dean expectantly. “What does it go to?”

“The lighthouse. I have one too, but this way if you and your dad want to go inside, you can. You just have to promise you won’t lose it, or give it to anyone besides your dad, okay?” 

Jack’s eyes widened as he grinned up at Dean before yanking on Cas’ arm.

 “Can we go climb it now, Dad?” Jack asked in excitement, and Castiel laughed, and Dean relished the sound of it.

“Not right now, I have to talk to Dean, but later, okay?”

“Hey, Jack, if you like comics, there’s some over in the back against the wall to the right.”

That was all Jack needed to know, as he shoved the key into his pocket and quickly ran to the back of the store.

“Thank you for engaging with him, he was being unnaturally shy,” Castiel said gratefully.

“‘Course. Man, it’s good to see you, Cas. I never thought I’d…” Dean shook his head. “Never mind.”

Castiel reached out his hand and gripped Dean’s shoulder, fingertips warm through the fabric of his shirt.  Dean held his breath, eyes locked in a gaze bluer than the ocean. 

“Not never mind. I know what you were going to say, and I should have reached out.”

“Cas…” started, but the jingle of the door had them both turning towards the sound, as customers came in.

“Dean, can we talk later? Please?” Castiel asked, a hint of urgency in his tone and Dean couldn’t help but wonder what was behind it.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure we can. Tomorrow night is the Solstice fire if you want to bring your family. Sammy will be there, he’s got a kid, younger than yours, but there will be others his age. Good chance for Jack to meet some of the kids he'll be at school with.”

Castiel’s face lit up at that. “That sounds wonderful. I’ve always wanted to be here for one of those celebrations.”

“Am I going to get to meet your wife tomorrow, too?”

“My wife?” Castiel cocked his head, like an inquisitive bird.  Dean had forgotten how much he missed that look.

“Yeah, I mean, you're married, right?”

“Not that I'm aware of,” Castiel said, bewilderment in his tone "Did someone tell you I was married?”

“No, it's just…well,  after you left, I tried to get in touch with you, but every time I called no one answered.  I figured you didn’t want to talk to me,” Castiel’s face was pained at Dean’s words, but he pressed on. “And when I worked up the nerve to look you up a few years later, I found you on Facebook. You had a bunch of wedding pictures posted. They were beautiful. And your kid seems pretty awesome. Looks like life turned out alright for you, man.”

Castiel just peered at him, eyes widening as Dean’s words seemed to sink in. “Dean, those weren’t my wedding photos, those were my brother E.J.’s. We’re twins. Did I never tell you that?”

Dean’s brows rose as his mouth dropped open in shock. “No. In all the times you talked about your family, not once did you ever mention that E.J. was your twin!. So, if that woman—” Dean paused for Castiel to fill in the name.

“Anael, my sister-in-law. Anna Jo.“

“So if Anna Jo isn’t your wife, then can I ask…” Dean trailed off and Castiel smiled, letting him off the hook.

“Who is Jack’s mom?” 

“Yeah.”

“You remember my older brother? The one who showed up for a week the last summer I was here? Luci?”

“Yeah, yeah, the sullen blond kid,” Dean said.

“Yeah, well that ‘Sullen blond kid’,” Castiel finger quoted, “is in jail for sex trafficking.”

“Son of a bitch! Are you kidding me? Of course you’re not, why would you joke about that?” Dean asked and answered and Cas huffed a laugh.“I wish I was. He had a group of followers—”

“Like a cult like that Smallville chick was in?”

“I don’t understand that reference, but yes, it was very much like a cult. When Luci got caught, none of us had ever even heard of Jack. There was this four-year-old kid, my nephew, with a mom who died in childbirth, and none of us even knew about him. Lucifer didn’t keep up with the family, we barely knew what state he was in from year to year,” Castiel paused in his tale, looking over his shoulder for Jack.

“He’s still over by the comics, go on,” Dean reassured him.

“It was obvious that I would take him. Gabriel owns and operates a porn studio—” Dean barked out a loud laugh at that, “and E.J. and Anna Jo were working for Doctors without Borders at the time. My job allows me to stay at home. It was the best decision I ever made. I've made a lot of bad ones, but he isn't one of them. Jack is the best thing in my life.”

A slow smile spread across Dean’s face at Castiel’s words. “Well, I’m sure he feels the same about you.”

“Dad, can I get this?” Jack came running back, holding a Gotham Academy comic.

“Oh, nice choice,” Dean said. “You can take it on the house if your Dad says it’s okay?” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Castiel said, pulling out his wallet.

“Think of it as partial payment for polishing the lighthouse,” Dean said with a wink.

“Yes!” Jack said, already opening the package.

Castiel chuckled. “We should get going, but we can talk more later, yes?” he asked, catching Dean in his intense stare. 

Dean’s breath caught for a moment at the promise in Cas’ eyes, and he could only wonder what it meant.

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely. Here, give me your phone.”

Castiel handed it over, wordlessly, and he added his number to Cas’ contacts, hoping he wouldn't notice Dean’s trembling fingers. “Down on the beach, tomorrow after sunset, you won’t be able to miss it. Dress warm,” Dean warned. “It ain’t like our summer fires.”

Castiel smiled softly. “I’ll make sure. See you then, Dean. Jack, say bye to Mr. Winchester,” Castiel said.

“Bye Mr. Winchester, thank you!”

Dean laughed. “It’s just Dean, and you’re welcome. See ya later, buddy.”

Castiel and Jack left, Cas with a small wave at the door, and Dean blew out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding.

Castiel was back, and he wasn’t angry with him. He didn’t know what it all meant, but he did know that seeing him again felt like a hundred-ton weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He had a chance to salvage his friendship. All Dean had to do was not let on that he’d been pining for Cas for years. He could totally do that. No problem. 

“I’m so screwed,” Dean muttered to himself. 

Later that night, after he closed up, and he sat on his couch, leftover cobbler in his lap, his notifications sounded.

From Cas: It was so good to see you today, Dean. I've missed you.

Dean’s heart tripped and stumbled in his chest as he reread the message.

Fingers only hesitating a moment, Dean texted back.

—Me too. Sweet dreams, Cas .

Chapter Text

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Dean rolled his eyes at his dad, Jack Daniel’s already slurring his words.

“Bonfire on the beach.”

“Who’s watching Sammy?” John asked as if it were Dean’s responsibility to know.

“He’s at Sully’s, remember?” Dean said, leaning against the doorjam. 

His dad looked up at him blearily from the recliner. 

“Oh, right, right. Don’t stay out too late, okay? I’m not feeling well, and you’re gonna need to open the store tomorrow.”

“You’d probably feel a lot better if you weren’t swillinʼ that,” Dean said, caustically, but his dad was too far gone to be offended.

“Yeah, probably. You’re a good kid, Dean,” John said. “I’m sorry.”

Dean sighed. “I know you are, Dad, just, think about getting some help, okay?”

It was the same conversation they’d been having for the past two years. The drinking had gotten progressively worse since Grandpa Henry died. John would sober up for a few weeks, then off the wagon he’d fall. Dean was tired of getting his hopes up and was almost at the point of indifference. He would be eighteen in January, and eventually, he would take over the store. If his dad kept drinking the way he did, Dean would be running Winchester General far sooner than Dean had ever planned.

Not that Dean wasn’t happy to take over the family business, but he’d been hoping to travel a little bit first. Maybe go out to visit Cas in California, finally meet that crazy family of his.

Dean went back into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of beers from the back of the fridge. His dad would never notice, too hooked on the hard shit to care if a few Thighslapper ales went missing.

Dean slipped down the back staircase and out into the sweltering heat. It had been a hot summer, and tonight was no different. His feet felt hot in his socks and sneakers, but Dean Winchester did not do sandals. It was a miracle he was even in shorts but when the temp hit 95, he didn’t have a choice.

Dean could hear the music before he even hit the beach. The smell of campfire and sunblock and grilled hotdogs hit him, and he found the familiar scents oddly comforting.

The Keeper’s Quarters were lit up with fairy lights, as was Glo Loholo and Dean wondered who’d pulled that lucky straw. Dean passed the Quarters to the lighthouse path and followed the sounds of revelry. 

Dean called out a hey to his brother, who’d come down to the beach with Sully and his parents. Further down the beach, Dean could see Crowley, the owner of Whiskey Business, and his son loading up the barge that would shoot off fireworks from the water later on in the night. 

There was an intense game of beach volleyball going on, and he almost got nailed with the ball on the way by.

“Learn to spike, Lee,” Dean yelled.

“Fuck off, Winchester,” Lee yelled back, only to be cuffed on the back of the head by Carlos Cervantes. Carlos had been a good friend of Dean’s mom and dad. He owned The Whammy Bar, a rock and roll-inspired tavern that had karaoke on Saturday nights. When he was little, there would always be a Christmas party at The Whammy Bar, and Dean could remember falling asleep in the booth, listening to his mom and dad sing off-key Sonny and Cher.

“There’s kids around, moron,” Carlos said, then shot Dean a glare. “Stay out of trouble, Dean,” he warned, looking pointedly at the six-pack in his hand and Dean laughed. 

Dean found his friends further down the beach sitting around a bonfire. Someone, he suspected Meg, had brought a bottle of cheap whiskey and they were passing it around. 

There was a chorus of “Hey, Dean,” as he approached the group, smiling at Benny and offering him a beer. Castiel, to Dean’s annoyance, was sitting next to Meg Masters, her arm on his thigh as she leaned against him. 

“Finally decided to grace us with your presence, Deano?” Meg said, voice saccharine sweet and working on his already frayed nerves.

“Well, some of us have jobs, Meg. We don’t all get to lounge on the beach all day.”

The words came out harsher than Dean intended, and Castiel looked up at him.

“Dean, are you okay?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, taking care to soften his tone. It wasn’t Cas’ fault that his dad was an ass. Or that the idea of Meg and Cas together made his skin crawl.

“Sit down,” Ash ordered. “We’re playing truth or dare.”

Dean groaned. “What are we, thirteen and at our first boy-girl party?”

“Quit whining and sit down,” Benny laughed, so he did, rolling his eyes all the while. 

The game, though juvenile, did have its moments. Ash daring Benny to go up to a random group of beach goers, and do the Cotton Eye Joe dance was certainly one of them.

Lisa daring Meg to kiss Cas was not. In fact it turned Dean’s stomach so much, that he got up and left, carrying his last two beers with him by the neck. Dean didn’t turn around to see if anyone noticed he was gone, specifically Cas, and kept walking. Dean made his way back up the lighthouse path. The key was still in his wallet from the day before when Dean and Cas had gone up to the gallery to read. He pulled it out, unlocking the heavy door and closing it behind him. His footfalls echoed on the metal spiral stairs as he climbed to the observation deck, and stepped outside to the gallery. He was hot and sweaty from his climb to the top, but the wind was whipping as he leaned against the railing, quickly turning his sweat-slicked skin chilly with the breeze. Dean set one of his Thighslappers down, and opened the other one, taking a long drought. From this height, the fires on the beach looked like little candle flames. The fireworks would start soon, he could see lights on the barge and knew Crowley and his son were down there on the water.

“Dean?”

Dean whirled around at the sound of Cas’ voice. He'd been so caught up in his musings, Dean hadn’t even heard him climb the stairs.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said quietly, turning quickly back towards the water so as not to see the worried look on his friend's face.

“Are you okay? Did you get in another fight with your dad?”

“No more than usual,” Dean said with a shrug.

“Then why did you leave? One minute you were there, then you were gone,” his friend said, coming to stand next to Dean, shoulder to shoulder.

“I really didn’t think you’d notice,” he said quietly. “You looked pretty occupied.”

There was a moment of silence, and then, “Dean, are you jealous?” The words sounded incredulous and Dean let out a bitter laugh.

“What if I was, huh?” Dean asked, turning to look at Cas, who was staring back at him with wide, almost fearful eyes.

“Dean, if you liked Meg, why didn’t you tell me?”

This time Dean’s laugh was loud and long, and Castiel raised his brows, looking at him like he was cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

“I don’t like Meg, Cas. In fact, I can’t stand her.”

“Then I don’t get it, Dean. What are you jealous about?”

Maybe it was the alcohol or the confrontation with his dad, but Dean couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“You, Cas! I’m jealous about you!”

Castiel’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing, obviously not getting it.

“I…Dean, I don’t understa—”

Dean cut him off with his lips, stopping the flow of words by pressing a kiss to those chapped lips that had been torturing Dean since the day they met. Dean drew back, to find Castiel the epitome of gobsmacked, and something like nausea began to twist in Dean’s stomach. What had he done? Figuring he had nothing left to lose, Dean just came clean.

“I wasn’t jealous because Meg was kissing you. I was jealous ʼcause you were kissing her back.”

“You have feelings for me,” Castiel said, voice monotone, like he was still in shock.

“I’m in love with you,” Dean said with a hysterical laugh, and his heart broke when Castiel took a step back.

“Dean, I, I’m sorry, but I don’t—” Castiel never finished his sentence, because at that moment, the gallery door opened. It was Mildred, looking harried and winded.

“Castiel, oh honey, there you are.  You have to come with me, sweetheart.”

“What? Why, what’s wrong?”

“It’s your dad, honey. We think he had a heart attack,” Mildred said, already turning to leave. “The ambulance is on its way.”

“Oh my god. Okay. Okay, I’m coming.” Castiel hurried back inside and down the stairs, and Dean followed suit. 

“Cas, you want me to come with you?” Dean asked, but Castiel didn’t answer, sprinting down the staircase at breakneck speed. 

Dean ran after, Mildred not far behind. Dean could see Rufus Turner standing at the door of the Quarters, ready to let in the paramedics who had just arrived. 

Dean watched silently, stomach in knots as Chuck was carried out on a stretcher, Castiel following behind. Their eyes met for a one brief moment, and Cas’ were filled with terror. And then he was gone.

Dean yawned so hard his jaw cracked. His dreams were filled with hauntings from the past. Watching Castiel drive away in that ambulance had been one of the worst nights of his life. And he hadn’t known at the time that it would be the last time he saw him for several years.

Castiel had never come back to Erzla Cove, until now. 

Dean had tried to call, to email to say he was sorry, not just for Chuck’s heart attack, but for everything, but it was like Castiel had dropped off the face of the earth. The number he called had been no longer in service, the emails went unanswered. 

It had been in the news, later, how author Carver Edlund had suffered a debilitating heart attack. There weren’t many details, but Dean was sure that Castiel would be taking care of his father. Dean could only hope Cas’ siblings would put their feelings for Chuck aside, to help Castiel.

The next summer, Dean had foolishly hoped that Castiel would show up. Not even to say he returned Dean’s feelings, but just because he missed his friend so damn much. Instead, it had been years of silence.

Now he was back and Dean couldn’t help wondering what it was that Castiel wanted to talk to him about. Yesterday, the possibility had filled him with hope, but after his dreams, he wasn’t so sure. Reliving it in his sleep, made everything fresh, including the shock and fear on Castiel’s face.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Dean muttered to himself. Castiel had been obviously happy to see him, had texted, and said how he’d missed Dean, but he couldn’t help it. Dean thought perhaps it was just in his nature to assume the worst.

He was going to be antsy all day, and nothing was distracting him. He’d tried listening to music while he’d stocked shelves, and he tried watching Doctor Sexy while working on the books, but even his favorite TV show wasn’t helping. Dean knew he would be a nervous wreck until he and Cas could talk everything out, and Dean had never prayed for a day to go by faster.

Winchester General was busy all day.  People were in and out, buying beer, snacks, makings for s’mores, and propane for grilling on the beach. He lost count of how many sparklers and hand warmers were purchased.  

When six o’clock rolled around, Dean, who had wished for the day to fly by, almost wished he had one more hour. He locked up the store and went upstairs to his apartment to change out of his work clothes, leaving on his jeans but swapping out his polo for a long-sleeved thermal and his jacket. He thought about bringing beer, but Dean didn’t think his stomach could handle alcohol right now, certainly not with all the butterflies winging in his stomach.

Dean pulled an old blanket out of his closet and carried it out the door with him under his arm. Dean stalled a little more by running into Lasa Moz for a coffee to go, seeing as how he had decided to forgo drinking.

By the time Dean made it to the beach, it was already starting to fill up. He’d seen Cas’ continental, parked at the Quarters, so if he wasn’t at the beach, he was definitely at home.

Bonfires were dotted along the sand, and small groups of people gathered around them, feeling the cold deeply, on the first day of spring.

“Hi, Uncle Dean!”

Dean heard Millie before he saw her, laughing when he felt tiny arms wrap around his legs. “Hey, there, sweetness. Where’s your daddy at?” Dean said, scanning the beach, his brother’s tall form making it easy for the moose to stick out.

“He’s with Donna. She brought chicken wings, Uncle Dean, the good kind with the crunchy bits.”

“The crunchy bits, you say?” Dean said. “Well, we’ll have to get in on that.”

Dean let Millie lead him over to where Ruby was sitting in a beach chair, near the fire.

“I found Uncle Dean, Ruby!” Millie said, presenting Dean like an offering and Ruby laughed.

“Good job, although I think he would have found his way once he caught a whiff of Donna’s chicken, huh?” Ruby teased, as Dean had already snagged himself a piece.

“Hey, no judgy judgy,” Dean said over a mouthful of aforementioned crunchy bits. “Where’s Sam?”

“He left his jacket in the car, the man never thinks the cold is going to be as cold as it is.”

“Hi, Mr. Winchester!”

Dean whipped around at the sound of Jack’s voice. “It’s Dean, remember?” he said with a smile. 

“Uncle Dean, who’s that?” Millie asked in a loud whisper and he chuckled.

“This here is Jack, and his Dad Castiel,” Dean said, with a nod at the man in question. “Cas is an old friend of mine.”

“Hi, Cas,” Millie said brightly. “Can Jack come play? We’re looking for sea glass.”

By we, Millie meant herself and the clown doll Dean got her for her birthday, much to Sam’s dismay, which let’s be real, was the reason why he bought it. Sam’s hatred of clowns was a constant source of amusement for Dean, so when he had seen the pink, yellow, and red monstrosity, he’d had to get it. Neither Dean nor Sam had thought it would become Millie’s favorite baby doll.

“Sweetie, I don’t know if Jack will want to play with—” Dean started, but Jack was already holding out a hand to Millie and letting her lead him down the beach.

“Well, alrighty then,” Dean said and Castiel laughed.

“Jack enjoys children. He tells me he wants to be a science teacher some day,” Castiel said in way of greeting.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said with a grin, earlier nerves dissipating in the wake of Castiel’s smile. “This is Ruby, Sam’s fiance. Ruby, this is Castiel, he used to vacation here in the summer when we were kids,” Dean said, although he was sure Sam probably already filled her in. 

“Nice to meet you, Cas! Now that you’re back, you can help this guy remember what a social life is like.”

Dean made a face. “Shut up, I’m social.”

“Talking to customers all day doesn’t count, Dean,” Ruby said, rolling her eyes.

“What the hell is taking Sam so long?” Dean asked, just before spotting his brother, carrying a jacket and a cooler. 

“What the hell, Dean?” Castiel said, sounding almost offended, staring at Sam as he made his way to them.

Dean laughed. “I know, he’s a giant.”

“Did you give him steroids in his Spaghettios?” Castiel asked with a laugh.

“Not intentionally,” Dean teased back.

Dean noticed a sour expression on Sam’s face when he reached them.

“What’s with your face?” Dean asked.

 “I just heard the stupidest commercial for a Scott Disick air freshener,” Sam said with a grimace and Castiel choked on his bite of chicken.

“How are these people famous?” Dean asked.

“Beats me,” he said with a shrug before turning his eyes towards Cas. “Castiel! It’s so good to see you,” Sam exclaimed, pulling Castiel into a bear hug. “How are you? Man, it’s been ages!”

“It’s nice to see you, Sam. I almost didn’t recognize you. The last time I saw you, we were still calling you short pockets. Now you’re Hagrid.”

Dean snorted at that, hiding his amusement behind a sip of his coffee.

“You wanna beer, Dean? Cas?” Sam asked and they both shook their heads.

“Maybe later,” Dean said. The butterflies may have settled but Dean didn’t trust alcohol not to give them new life.

Dean nudged Castiel’s shoulder. “You wanna go walk around, do some catching up?”

“I’d really like that. Let me just tell Jack where I’m going. If you guys don’t mind keeping an eye on him,” Castiel asked and Sam laughed.

“You guys go on ahead, I don’t think they’ll miss you,” Ruby said, nodding her head towards the kids who had started playing tag with a couple of more children, sea glass collecting apparently forgotten for the day.

Castiel ran over to Jack and Dean couldn’t hear what he said, but he noticed Castiel point to Dean, and then Sam and Ruby, and thought he got the gist of it.

“Ready? “ Dean asked as Castiel trudged back over, beige trenchcoat billowing out behind them.

“Yeah, let's go.” 

Chapter Text

It was cold outside, but Castiel was warm in his sweater and trenchcoat. He was amazed to see so many people in tee shirts and shorts as he and Dean walked along the beach. He supposed maybe he was too used to California to find 51-degree weather warm.

“I still can’t believe how tall Sam got.” Castiel thought back to when they were younger, awash in the memory of sitting on top of a rumbling washing machine in the Erzla Cove laundromat while Cas and Sam and Dean shared a bag of vending machine Cheetos. He could almost smell the processed cheese and cheap laundry soap.

Beside him, Dean chuckled. “No kidding, right? Seems unnatural, a little brother being taller than his big brother.”

“May I ask about Millie’s mother?” Castiel asked hesitatingly. “ It’s just that I noticed she doesn’t call Ruby mom?” 

 “Yeah, uh, Millie’s mom’s name was Jessica,” Dean said, arm brushing alongside Castiel’s as they walked. “ Millie is the spitting image of her,” Dean said, and his smile was sad. “Sam and Jess met in college. They got married before they even graduated. Three years later they had Millie.” Dean scratched the back of his neck, nodding his head toward the coffee cart Lasa Moz had set up by the jetty. 

Castiel gratefully took the take-out cup Dean insisted on paying for, warming his hands with it, before taking a sip.

Dean led them over to the edge of the jetty, sitting down on one of the large rocks that would be immersed in water when high tide came in. Castiel sat down next to him, feeling the chill of the rock right through his pants. It would take him a while to get used to New England temperatures again. 

Castiel gave Dean a sidelong glance; He was close enough to count his freckles, and Cas caught his breath when Dean’s head turned, and their eyes met, holding steady. Dean’s expression was questioning, and vulnerable and Castiel watched his throat bob as he swallowed. A child’s shriek pierced the air, and he let out a nervous laugh. Two children were running back and forth making designs in the air with sparklers, and when Dean spoke again, his gaze moved to their play.

“One night there was an electrical fire. Faulty wiring or some shit. Sam, he, he got Millie out, but Jess didn’t make it.”

“That must have been a terrible time for him. And that’s how he wound up here?”

“Yeah, after the funeral, he broke his lease and came home. Sully had been pestering him to move back and join his practice. I think they would have eventually wound up here anyway,” Dean said. “Jess wasn’t close to her family. They didn’t even fight Sam when he said he was taking Millie out of the state. He would have allowed visitation.”

Castiel frowned. “That’s their loss then,” he said firmly and Dean smiled, brighter now. 

“Damn straight.”

“I was sorry to hear about your dad,” Castiel said quietly. “Mildred,” he said when Dean shot him a questioning look. 

“I didn’t know the two of you kept in touch over the years,” Dean said, tapping his fingers against his now-empty cup.

Castiel’s shrug was awkward. “She and I used to talk. Late at night, you know? When Dad was writing, we’d have tea in the kitchen, and I daydreamed about buying the inn from her someday.”

Dean grinned at him. “Wow, Cas, you never mentioned that. How come?”

“At the time it was just a silly dream. And after my dad, well. I let it go for a long time.”

“Hey, Dean! Who you got there with you?”

Castiel recognized that voice, and he felt a pang in his chest, as his old friend sauntered up to them. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Benny said, Cajun accent softer than it used to be, and a lofty expression on his face. 

“Hello, Benny,” Castiel said, finding himself dragged into the umpteenth hug of the evening. Ironic when the one person he really wanted to hold was sitting right next to him and hadn’t yet; only teased by his body warmth when they sat side by side.

“ʼBout time you came back, cher. You’ve been missed.”

And wasn’t that a miracle? To be missed even after so many years? 

Benny joined them on the way back to Sam and Ruby, and they fell into conversation like no time had passed at all.

“Any word on the situation with the dentist?” Dean asked and Castiel paused.

“The situation with the dentist?” Castiel asked and Benny groaned, painfully, filling Castiel in on his sad unrequited crush.

“I changed my hours,” Benny said. “If I kept having to see him, and not say something, I woulda gone crazy so I rearranged my schedule. Is there anything more pathetic than a one-sided romance?” Benny grumbled and Castiel couldn’t help but notice that Dean’s cheeks had pinked at his words, like he was embarrassed.

That was when it finally hit him. For all of these years, Dean had thought his love confession was one-sided. 

Looking back, Castiel could see how it would appear so. Castiel was eager to get Dean alone somewhere where they could finally talk, and clear the air about the past.

“I think I might have to make an appointment for Jack to get his teeth cleaned,” Castiel said, thoughtfully, earning himself a nudge on the shoulder from both sides as Dean laughed and Benny said, “Don’t you dare, brother.”

When they got back to the bonfire, Castiel was thrilled to see that Jack had made some new friends. He was sharing a blanket with Millie, who seemed to have taken right to him, for the way she was cuddled up against his side. On his other side was Lisa Braeden’s son Ben, who had the same teacher that Jack had been assigned. Lisa, Castiel remembered, had had quite the crush on Dean when they were younger. Now, she was happily married, for the second time, to a cop named Victor. They exchanged numbers so that playdates could be arranged.

As Castiel sat huddled next to Dean on his blanket, ready for the fireworks show, he could hardly believe any of it was real. He and his son, happy, and surrounded by old and new friends. It was almost perfect.

“Dean?” Castiel said, nudging the man beside him.

Dean looked over and Castiel got caught in green eyes flecked with gold, and nearly forgot his words. 

“Yeah, Cas?”

“When this is all over, will you come home with me? So we can talk some more?” Castiel asked, voice steady even as his heart was hammering out of his chest.

Dean wet his bottom lip, a nervous gesture Cas remembered from childhood. 

“I’d like that, Cas.”

Chapter Text

“Castiel, you don’t have to do this.”

Castiel laughed, a bitter sound as he paced around his living room, phone to his ear.

“Oh, really, Emmanuel? Who else is going to do it? You’re out of the country. Gabriel’s certainly isn’t the best place for a child to grow up, and God knows Mom isn’t going to step up.”

His brother sighed, loudly through the phone. 

“It’s just after taking care of Dad, you were finally supposed to get your life back. You were going to travel a bit, go back to Erzla like Dad wanted you—”

“Stop. That’s obviously not going to happen now.” There would be no going back to Erzla Cove. No light leading him home. This was his home, now, for the foreseeable future, Castiel mused. “This boy is our nephew. I’m not going to let him get sucked into the system. I’m not taking him from the only home he’s ever known. His grandparents may be too elderly to take him, but they have been a constant part of his life. They already lost their daughter because of Lucifer, I’m not making them lose Jack, too.”

Castiel kept his voice down, not wanting to wake the four-year-old tucked in the former guestroom of his apartment.

“I can’t believe Luci had a kid living one town over and never told us.”

“That’s what you can’t believe? Our brother is in jail for sex trafficking, and his penchant for unprotected sex and avoiding the family is what you're shocked about?”

“Cas.”

“I’m sorry. I’m exhausted and I have a headache and all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for a week.” That wasn’t happening anytime soon, Castiel thought, swiping a hand over his face as he caught sight of the stuffed dog on the sofa. Blue, he’d been told in a quiet, snuffly voice.

“Castiel?” Castiel paused in his pacing at the sound of his sister in law’s voice now joining the call. “I know you’re overwhelmed right now. I wish we could be there, and as soon as our contract is up, E.J. and I will be home, and we will help in any way we can. I know this is so much, so soon after your father, but for what it’s worth, I have faith you can do this. You’re loving and responsible and kind. Jack is going to have a chance in this world and it’s all because of you.“

From anyone else the words would sound trite, but for those who knew Anael Josephine, they would know it’s high praise. Sister Jo, as she was called in her grifting days, had come from a home where drugs and alcohol were more important to her parents than feeding their child. She’d been thirteen, pretending to be a faith healer, on the run from her fourth foster home when she got busted. Luckily for her, the cop who took her in, Donna Hascum, saw through Anna Jo’s rough exterior and made it her mission to support her and help change her life, starting with adoption. It was because of Donna that Anna Jo decided to pursue her dream of being a doctor, sending her to the very camp where she met Emmanuel.

Castiel took in a deep breath and blew it out. “Thank you, Anna Jo. I appreciate it.”

“You don’t lose your temper with her,” Castiel heard his brother grumble and Castiel chuckled.

“I miss you, brother. I miss both of you. But Anna Jo is right. I can do this. I’m going to do this.” And if his life had to remain on pause for a little while longer, he was okay with that. 

 Castiel wasn’t sure why the memory was hitting him now.  Maybe it was watching Jack, his face lit by the colorful bursts in the sky, smile a mile wide and seeing how happy he was in that moment. Reassuring him that Castiel had done the right thing in coming here. That it was okay that he had unpaused his life. Jack’s grandfather had passed the year before and it wasn’t but a few months that his grandmother was gone, too and Castiel had known it was time.

It had been a dream he never gave up on, coming back here to Erzla Cove, and he’d made it. His son was happy, and Cas was sitting under the stars with his childhood best friend, basking in the glow of fireworks and Glo Loholo, with hope blooming in his chest at every sideways glance Dean stole at him.

The celebration began breaking up around ten, families parting ways because it was far past many children’s bedtimes. A few bonfires remained lit, mostly surrounded by teenagers, and a handful by elderly men with their trapper hats and cigars, smoke curling over their heads in swirls.

“How’d you enjoy your first solstice party, Jack?” 

Castiel looked over his shoulder; Jack walked behind him, with Dean, and Castiel was reminded of walking a similar path, years ago. Dean was showing the same focused attention to Jack that he’d shown Sam when they were kids. Dean, Castiel knew, would make a great father. 

Jack, for his part, had a sleepy grin on his face, cheeks pink from the cold.

“It was great. I already got invited to a sleepover!” Jack said excitedly, almost tripping twice as they walked the lighthouse path.

“Oh, yeah? That’s pretty exciting. You’re gonna fit right in here, buddy,” Dean said with a wink at Castiel, and fondness for his friend swamped him like a tidal wave.

Castiel heard the shriek before the footsteps as a girl came careening around the corner, being chased by a laughing boy of the same age.

“Hey. Krissy! Kevin! You catching the Bucklebury Ferry? Watch where you’re going, you almost just took out three people!”

Castiel was amused to see both teenagers looking contrite at Dean’s lecture, nodding magnanimously at them when they apologized.

“Sorry, Dean. Sorry…” Krissy trailed off and Jack waved.

“I’m Jack,” his son said and Castiel watched the girl’s expression melt into a smile, as he’d so often seen happen when people were around his son.

“Cas,” he offered with a smile of his own.

“Sorry guys, we were just horsing around,” the boy, Kevin, said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, “get out of here,” and Castiel chuckled when they walked away, briskly, knowing they would be running again as soon as they were out of sight.

“Bucklebury Ferry,” Castiel snickered as the path turned to pavement and his home came into view.

“From Lord of the Rings?” Jack asked before letting out a jaw-cracking yawn.

“It’s Dean’s favorite book, too. Come on now, hurry up on inside. It’s late, you can shower in the morning,” Castiel said as he unlocked the door, ushering his son and Dean inside. “Pajamas, teeth, bed.”

Castiel didn’t know if it was a years-born habit, but he smiled when Dean took off his shoes and put them in the built-in shoe cubby at the entrance, just like he had as a kid. Castiel and Jack followed suit, and he couldn’t help the ping in his heart at the sight of their shoes together, something so simple, yet so yearned.

Jack yawned again, giving Castiel a swift hug. “Night Dad,” he said, then to Dean’s obvious surprise, gave him the same treatment, mumbling a sleepy “Night Dean,” into his shirt. Dean ruffled Jack’s hair gently. “Night, kid,” he said, voice soft.

When Jack disappeared upstairs to his bedroom, Dean turned to him, with a smile he could only describe as proud.

“You’re doing a helluva good job with him, Cas, honestly. I hope you know that.”

Castiel was walking towards Dean before he was consciously aware of it, meeting him sock-covered toe to sock-covered toe. He saw surprise and nerves dancing in gold and mossy irises. Castiel, further stunned Dean by sliding his hands up his chest, his neck, to settle on either side of his stubbled face, cradling Dean’s jaw. They have to talk. Castiel knows they have to talk, but first, he wants—no, he needs , this.

Dean’s breath had gone thready, pulse jumping in his throat and Cas felt heady knowing he was the cause. Agonizingly slow, Castiel brought their mouths together.

Dean welcomed him in, smooth as decadent chocolate. A sensuous glide of tongue, and gentle suction that had Castiel’s heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. He wondered if Dean could feel it as they pressed together, his hands gripping Castiel’s waist, fingertips flexing against the fabric of Cas’ trenchcoat that he’d yet to take off.

The kiss felt like forever and an instant all at once, both of them panting when they broke for breath.

Castiel dropped his face to Dean’s clavicle, hands gripping at his shoulders now, and breathing in the vestiges of his spicy cologne.

Dean’s hands moved to tangle in Cas’ hair as if to hold him in place.

“I need to know what happened, Cas,” Dean's voice broke on his name and Castiel gripped him tighter. “I don’t want to chase you away again—”

At those words, Castiel pulled back, just far enough to stare into Dean’s face, fiercely.

“You think this is your fault? Dean, I promise you, you did not chase me away. Will you come sit with me?” Castiel asked, hanging onto Dean, as he walked backward, pulling Dean with him into the living room, and onto the sectional. Castiel sank into the cushion next to him, not yet letting go, not knowing if he could, now that he’d finally had Dean in his arms after so many years.

“Cas, I don’t need you to protect me, I kissed you without your consent, and it freaked you out, and then your dad—” Castiel stopped the flow of Dean’s words with a finger to his lips.

“You’re right,” Castiel said and Dean’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I did freak out. I had only just started realizing my feelings for you, and your kiss… it did scare me. But not because it was unwanted but because it was . Mere seconds of your lips touching mine, and Meg’s kiss was a vague memory. But still, it was confusing and terrifying because you were my best friend. I didn’t want to lose that.”

“Yet somehow I lost you anyway,” Dean whispered between them.

“I know,” Castiel whispered back. “Life changed for me that night. My dad, he was never the same. He needed round-the-clock care, and there was only so much insurance would cover,” Castiel said sadly, and Dean snorted.

“The healthcare system sucks,” Dean said lamely and Castiel had to agree. 

“That first week I lived at the hospital, and of course, my mother was no help. My siblings, they eventually tried, Emmanuel especially, but we all had so much going on. I had to schedule my classes on the days when we had a nurse, and on the days we didn’t, I was at my father’s beck and call. For almost nine years. “

“Cas, why the hell didn’t you call? Email me back?”

“You had enough going on. Things were getting worse with your dad, you were already practically running the business. I don’t know, I was grieving, and I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

Dean startled Castiel by standing up, abruptly to begin pacing.

“That’s stupid.”

“It didn’t feel stupid to me,” he answered, as honestly as he could. He had not been in a good headspace when his father had his stroke, and the responsibility that had come with it had left him sad, and bitter. “I couldn’t leave him, I had to stay and take care of him, and there was no way you could leave to be with me, even if I had asked.”

“I wish to God you had, Cas. Even if only over the phone, we coulda been there for each other, you know?”

A lump formed in Castiel’s throat and he couldn’t form words, he only nodded. 

“So why now? After all these years, what brings you back into my life now?” Dean asked, done with pacing and falling back down onto the couch, almost in defeat.

So Castiel explained. He explained how his father had been urging him to come back here to search for Dean, that he had given enough of his life, and that he needed to live his own. How he had planned to return to Erzla Cove and Dean.

“But then…”

“Jack happened,” Dean said softly.

“Jack happened,” Castiel confirmed. “There was the trial, and the legalities, getting the adoption settled. Then there were his grandparents. I couldn’t take him from them. Not after everything they lost. They passed away, this past year,” Castiel said, “and I decided it was now or never. Tell me it shouldn’t have been never, Dean. Tell me I still have a chance, after all these years, even if I don’t deserve one.”

Castiel’s breath caught as Dean’s hand cradled the back of his head, bringing them brow to brow. “I fucking missed you, Cas,” Dean said, almost viciously, before seeking Cas’ mouth with his own, bestowing forgiveness in mingling breaths and drugging kisses.

As the lighthouse beacon glowed through the windows, bathing them in shadows as they made up for lost time, Castiel thought about his father’s words. The light would lead him home. But it was Dean. Dean, and his sunny smile, and his thoughtfulness and soul and pure loving heart. Dean was his light. Dean was his home. 

“Elasa ol monons,” Castiel murmured, against kiss-plumped lips and Dean groaned.

“I forgot you speak Enochian,” Dean said, with a dopey grin and Castiel laughed, delighted at Dean’s full body shudder against him. “It’s hot. What does it mean?” Dean asked as Castiel moved from the couch to Dean’s lap, straddling his bowed legs, and rutting softly in his lap. He gave Dean credit for biting back the moan that wanted to escape.

“It means you’re my heart. Elasa ol monons, Dean,” Castiel said, reverently, rocking a bit more desperately, and feeling like a teenager all over again.

“Elasa ol monons, Cas,” Dean answered back, breathless, fingers digging into Cas’ hip bones hard enough to leave marks, as he moved against Cas’ downward thrusts.

“Come upstairs with me,” Castiel asked, and he barely recognized the husky pleading in his own voice. Maybe because no one had made him need so much, as Dean did.

Underneath him, Dean stilled, and his eyes were wide and searching, studying Cas’ for an answer to something. Castiel could see a thousand questions in the seafoam depths, and he waited for Dean to settle on one.

“Are you sure?” The words were carefully spoken, and Castiel could tell Dean was holding his breath. 

Castiel splayed his hands on his rigid stomach muscles, willing Dean to relax. He dipped down and pressed a soft kiss to the bow of Dean’s lips. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said, dragging his mouth against Dean’s as he spoke, then moved along to his jaw. Dean tipped his head back on a shaky sigh and Castiel smiled against the cord of Dean’s neck and began to suckle, gently.

“Wha-what about Jack?” Dean asked, even though his body was already sinking further back into the cushions, going pliant under Cas’ ministrations.  It was amazing. This was what real power felt like, and it thrummed through Castiel’s veins. The man he adored, had pined after for too many years to think about, was vibrating in his skin, underneath him and it was all because of Castiel. 

“Jack isn’t going to mind if you’re here in the morning. And honestly, if this is going where I hope it’s going, I want him to get used to seeing you here,” Castiel said, using his thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between Dean’s brow, the one that always formed when he was worrying too much.

Castiel took Dean’s silence as acquiescence, an assumption proved true when he slid off of Dean’s lap and held out his hand. Dean grasped it with no hesitation and allowed himself to be pulled up from the couch. Wordlessly, they walked hand and hand through the home- so familiar to both of them- Castiel stopping to peek in on Jack. As suspected, his son was knocked out cold and Dean chuckled over his shoulder at the way Jack was starfished across the bed.  They quietly walked the length of the hall to the other end where Castiel’s bedroom was. He pushed open the door, and gestured Dean inside, closing the door behind him with an audible click.

Without a word, Castiel began to undress, not putting on a show, intentionally, though Dean’s eyes were rapt on him, as though Cas removing his sweater was a holy act he was blessed to bear witness to.

It didn’t take long for Dean to get with the program, letting his own clothes slip to the floor and join Castiel’s on the pile. Soon they were skin to skin, Castiel pushing Dean backwards on the bed, so he could slither up his body. When the damp head of his thick cock brushed Dean’s, Castiel let out a moan deep and guttural. Dean’s beautifully bowed legs parted in welcome and Castiel sat back on his knees, gazing at the feast spread before him. Freckle dusted skin, dusky nipples and the prettiest pink cock Cas had ever seen. Dean’s balls sat heavy, and his body jerked when Cas brushed feather-light touches to the sensitive skin. When Castiel trailed his fingers down his crack, Dean shivered and Castiel paused.

“May I?” he asked, voice rough like gravel and Dean answered by hooking his legs over his arms and spreading himself, the flush on his face the only sign of his nerves.

Castiel leaned over Dean, his stomach brushing that perfect cock and making Dean hiss in want. Castiel nipped at Dean’s bottom lip, then ran a gentle tongue over it, a move that made Dean whimper.

“You’re stunning, Dean,” Castiel said reverently, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Shaddup and touch me,” he said, deflecting, and wiggled his ass playfully. Castiel obliged him, traveling back down Dean’s body until he reached Dean’s entrance. Hands gripping Dean’s thighs, Cas wasted no time with kitten licks; he sealed his mouth over Dean’s furl and made his tongue rigid, sloppily thrusting into the tight rim.

“Holy fuck!” Dean yelled, then frantically grasped for a pillow, pulling it over his face to muffle his sounds. Tremors wracked Dean’s thighs as Castiel continued to tongue Dean’s opening, moaning against the muscle, and using his thumbs to tug and stretch.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, voice wrecked from his feasting, and Dean peeked out at him from under the pillow, chest heaving. “Can I make love to you?” as he spoke, his fingers continued to dip and tug, and he only let out a breath when Dean’s flushed face broke out into a smile that rivaled the sun.

“Yes, please, Cas,” and there was no denying the want in Dean’s voice. Scrambling back up onto his knees, Castiel strained over Dean to fumble in his nightstand, searching and— aha - successfully finding the bottle of lube, making quick work of coating his finger and his dick, and made sure to squirt some directly into Dean’s hole. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, Castiel knew they should be thinking about protection, but want was the prevalent force at work, and the safety discussion was future cas and Dean’s problem.

“Cold,” Dean murmured, then arched as Castiel began to finger him, more vigorously. When he rubbed against Dean’s prostate, Dean panted, hand coming up to grip Castiel’s arm. 

“Cas, please. Please, I feel like I’m on fire,” Dean pleaded, and Castiel growled at the desperate, needy mess Dean was underneath him.

Bracing himself with one arm, he used his hand to guide his slicked cock to Dean’s opening, pushing in past the rim in one fluid glide. 

The guttural groans and squelch of the lube were obscene and only made him harder and as they rocked together, Castiel had to wonder if this was how galaxies were born? Because how could anything so euphoric and explosive as this could produce anything else? They moved together instinctually as if they had been doing it forever, and Castiel never wanted it to end. Sweat-dampened skin pressed together as they climbed, higher and higher, reaching for that peak and riding an edge so sharp and long he nearly blacked out from the power of it, until suddenly—it snapped like a bowstring pulled too tight.

“Fuck. Unh–fu—” Cas released, deep, loud and long, a quivering, thrumming mess. Dean was no better, quaking beneath him, eyes rolled back in his head, mouth open as he gasped, trembling fingers tangling in Cas’ hair and gripping too tight as he spilled between them, but Castiel was too blissed out to notice. Soon, the sweaty, sticky business of sex would make itself known, but for right now, there was the bone-deep relaxation that only came with being spectacularly sated. 

As they bathed under the moonlight streaming in through the bay window, Castiel relished in peace like he’d never known before. He smiled against Dean’s skin when he felt the kiss on his brow.

“I love you. I’m so glad you came home, Cas,” Dean whispered, and Castiel gazed sleepily out the window at the warm glow of Glo Loholo. 

“I love you, too, Dean,” Castiel said, tightening his arm around Dean, and allowing his eyes to slip closed, knowing when he opened them, Dean would be there. 

Chapter Text

Epilogue

“Pass the Doritos,” Castiel asked, not looking up from his book, just holding out his hand expectantly. Dean admired the way the moonlight glinted on the gold band of his wedding ring. It matched his own simple band, plain save the inscription on the inside, ol monons.

It hadn’t taken Dean and Castiel long to become engaged, neither one of them interested in wasting more time.  In September, six months after returning to Erzla Cove, Dean and Castiel were married in a double ceremony with Sam and Ruby, at the Quarters. In front of friends and family, they exchanged vows, and Dean was rewarded with the love of his life and a new son. Sometimes Dean had to pinch himself because he couldn’t quite believe it was real.

Summer had returned to Erzla Cove and Dean and Castiel were alone for the weekend. With Jack on a camping trip with Lisa, Vic, and Ben, Castiel had suggested they do a little camping of their own. So now they sat on an air mattress with some thick comforters, and a battery-powered lantern that was almost unnecessary with the flashing light of Glo Loholo. A small radio and a cooler full of snacks and Thighslapper Ale sat off to the side.

It was a warm July night, but windy as it always tended to be by the sea and Dean was happy to use it as an excuse to cuddle under the blanket next to his husband. Long gone were the days of roughing it with just a sleeping bag and a pillow.  Just the idea of Dean and Castiel sleeping on the hard gallery floor made Dean’s bones ache.

No, Dean thought as he watched Cas crunch into a chip as he found the page telling him where they’d left off, this was much better. 

Castiel turned to look at him, eyes sea-storm blue and soft.  Putting the chip bag beside him, Cas patted his lap, and Dean didn’t have to be told twice, laying down, with his head cradled on Castiel’s thighs. His husband’s voice soon joined the quiet sound of the radio and the gentle swell and break of the waves on the beach. Dean closed his eyes and Cas’ fingers combed through Dean’s hair as he read. It was the last book in Chuck’s series, finally released posthumously, when Castiel had finally felt strong enough to edit and release it.

“You don’t think you deserve to be saved,”  Misha said, and Jensen could only stare back, at a loss for words. Who was this creature? Certainly not the angel he claimed to be. Whoever heard of an angel named Misha?”  Castiel read, and Dean chuckled. He had missed this series and he was only a little bit jealous that Cas knew how it ended before he did. Angst with a happy ending, Dean was promised and he was holding Cas to it. Still, he had to ask.

“Do these guys get together or what? Cause I am a getting a vibe here,” Dean said, peering up at the underside of Cas’ arresting jaw.

“I guess you’ll just have to be patient and see,” Castiel said, smirking down at him, as he continued to feather his fingers through Dean’s hair.

Dean grumbled and Castiel laughed, bending down to press his lips to Dean’s brow and he savored the attention.

“Good things, do happen, Dean,” Castiel murmured, with a mysterious smile, and Dean reached his hand up, coming to cradle the back of Cas’ neck. Castiel stared down at him, fondly and Dean smiled, as he dragged Cas’ head down, stopping just short of his lips, close enough to share breath.

Thinking of all that had happened in the past year, he couldn’t deny that Cas was right. 

“That has been my experience,” Dean admitted, giving a final tug until Castiel’s mouth settled over his, warm, and slick, and heady. 

Good things do happen, Dean mused later, as he laid loose limbed, and satiated in his husband’s arms. Under the inky, star-studded sky, Dean drifted off to sleep, to the sound of Cas’ soft snores. 

The very best things.