The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun

Chapter 19: Trouble in Paradise

Life moves slowly, and with rose colored filters for the next few days. Dean takes off Mary's wedding ring and slides it onto Cas's ring finger after getting it resized. He asks Cas if they should get married soon, and Cas shrugs and wisely says, "I already entered a Union Lock with you. Our souls are already double dipping in the metaphorical salsa. Plus, I think Sam and Eileen would be put out if we eloped without them, and I have a feeling that's what you would prefer."

Dean grimaces and writes on a napkin to placate his nerves.

We're married?

Check yes or no.

Cas circles 'yes,' and they split the note down the middle, so Dean's side says:

We're m

Check (y

And Cas's side says,

arried?

es) or no.

Satisfied, Dean tucks Cas's half of the note in the inner breast pocket of the trench coat and puts his in his wallet behind his wad of cash.

Dean stares and stares at his new, awesome scars in the mirror one night. He tilts his torso to lay his eyes on his handprint. Its orientation is new and different, but not unwelcome. It's kind of mind-boggling, after all. Cas branded him the first time in hell, and the second time in some strange corner of the world—which Cas had later revealed to be the area of Nevada that's more commonly known as Area 51. Still, Dean's more than happy to be carting around Cas's large handprint on his shoulder. At least now, it's brighter and redder than it's been in years.

On the side of his neck and shoulder, Dean's got Cas's teeth imprint cut sharply into his skin with a white-ish pink raised crescent. Dean's more than happy to wear it in the permanent sort of way.

At first, Cas had been concerned. He'd laid hints more than once that, Dean, there is no backing out of this, and Dean had rolled his eyes, kissed him, and said, "I know, and I am perfectly happy with that."

In fact, life is so good, and so slow, Sam and Eileen make plans to go to a farmers' market. Eyes wide with excitement, Cas tells Dean, eager for them to go. Dean concedes, (not that he put up a fight at all) but he does insist on driving, his whole body blushing as Cas's hand finds its way to his thigh, tracing unseeable patterns in the denim of Dean's jeans.

Sam talks about some Renaissance book he's reading, and Cas weighs in with personal anecdotes to explain confusing events and tell things how they really were. Eileen tunes them out easily by just staring out the window, and Dean jitters in his seat as Cas's hand trails higher up his leg.

Rowena's kicking it at the bunker currently, busy translating more of The Book of The Cursed while also doing her nails at the same time. "You can't expect me to perform powerful magic with chipped nail polish, can you?" Later, Dean could hear Jack and Rowena gibbering incessantly in the library about nail polish, and at dinner, Jack's nails were a peculiar shade of black that seemed to reflect purple when the light hit it just so. If only John Winchester could see him now, mostly married to an angel, his kind of son with painted nails, and living in a bunker with three humans, a witch, an angel, and God.

On the other hand, it was a good thing John Winchester was... unable to see Dean like this.

New Year's Day, Dean's nursing a delightful hangover, hoarding an extremely large plate of bacon, and avoiding the term "scrambled eggs" at all cost. He doesn't think he could stomach something that rubbery this early in the morning. Still, his hangover is eons better than what it was when he woke up in bed with Cas. The two of them had played strip poker after being already enthusiastically drunk in Dean's room. Dean's poker face going to shit as Cas's cheeks flushed a bright pink every time he looked at Dean manspreading in his chair, still wearing his jeans, but down a shirt. Good thing they were playing for clothes, or Dean would've lost a lotta cash last night.