Chapter 2

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Three years later, Cas came back to his room to find that old copy of Much Ado About Nothing on his desk. He smiled, a little sadly, remembering the start of his relationship with Dean.

Everything was changing soon. College was almost over, and whilst Cas knew what he wanted, he wasn't sure if Dean was ready to settle down. Maybe he'd want to spend some time apart, take a break or even end things completely, start afresh.

Cas picked up the book, wanting to read through the handwritten conversations they'd had during class, and look at the stupid little notes Dean had left at the end of some of the scenes. He ran his fingers down the cracked spine, and flicked quickly through the pages. He frowned, opening up the last page.

There was something small and round taped to the back cover. Cas stared at it, and then started peeling at the sellotape with shaking fingers. He read the note:

"I want my life with you to share,
Cas, would you my silverware?"

The ring, slim and silver and perfect, sat twinkling in Cas' palm.

"Silverware, 'cause I want you to wear my silver, get it?" came Dean's voice from the doorway.

Cas turned to him, his heart a rapture.

"Yes," he said.

"Good. Wait, yes you get the joke, or yes -"

"Yes, I'll marry you, you dork," Cas said, striding across the room and pulling Dean into a fierce kiss. "You're ridiculous. You're amazing."

"You're alright, I guess," Dean replied. "I'll give you plate out of ten."

Cas went still.

"That is the worst one you've ever done," he said finally.

"Yeah, I'm not proud."

"I mean it, Dean, that was truly terrible."

"I'm sorry." Dean kissed Cas' neck, moving along his jawline.

"I might call off the wedding. It was that bad."

"Sorry, you can't. No takesie-backsies."

"Fine." Cas paused. "As long as that was the glasst one."

Dean shook his head sadly.

"That was worse than mine," he said.

"That's not possible, Dean."

"No, really. Now I'm the one reconsidering."

Cas leaned up to kiss him, long and slow, enjoying the graze of Dean's stubble on his chin.

"I love you," he whispered. "And your jokes are worse than mine. And I love you."

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