Destiel One Shots

Sybsaritic

The leaves whipped around the windows, gusty winds could be heard from inside the log cabin, but the curtains pulled blocked out the darkness and swaying trees from the strength of the wind.

Castiel sat in front of a blazing fire with his legs crossed in black sweatpants and a gray v-neck.

"Dean," he huffed out, looking down, as he realised Dean was no different from last year with his joke presents.

He'd opened up this one, quite a big box so Cas really had no idea what he was expecting. But once that was unwrapped it revealed yet another box underneath. So that's the game he was going to play.

Cas looked up through his lashes from where he was on the floor. Dean sauntered over, a sort of cocky swag in his walk, and that playful smirk on curled, seductive lips. He crouched down opposite Cas, the box between them, and crossed his legs.

The fire was on one side of them both, providing a warm glow on their skin, proving a warmth in the isolated cabin winter temperature.

Dean's green eyes flickered slightly glazed as the fire caught them. His freckles were showing up beautifully across his face. Cas' breath hitched at the sight he'd never tire of.

"Dean, if there's nothing at the end, just tell me now because I can't be bothered."

"There is something at the end," Dean eagerly said, nodding, lacing his fingers together.

Rolling his eyes, Cas continued the ministrations on the packages. More boxes, more brands, more red herrings of wrapping paper while Dean watched anxiously on.

Halfway through Dean began tapping, becoming restless, which made Cas question what was at the end.

The boxes eventually got down to tissue box size, then iPhone packaging, then-

There was a small blue velvet box there, new-ish looking and standing out against the brilliant white.

"...Dean?" asked Cas, voice low and uneasy. He picked it up with shaking hands and his heart rate had skyrocketed. Did Dean...was Dean going...how did he...was this a proposal?

Dean's bare foot was gently hitting the floor repeatedly, his hands over his mouth, biting at his knuckles. He refused to make eye contact.

Cas held it up to the fire light, delicate hands opening up the box which sharply held itself open for Cas.

Inside was a thick, silver ring, shining, glinting in the orange and red glow from their fireplace. Cas picked it up between his thumb and forefinger, looking at it up close and rolling the ring around.

Inside was the engraving of their names in calligraphy, the ring itself was quite flat, well rounded and simply beautiful.

"Dean, you didn't..." Cas breathed, trying to catch Dean's gaze with his hands in his lap now.

Dean shyly looked up, a blush on his cheeks. "Uh, yeah, well..."

He shuffled forward, putting his hand on Cas' with the ring in it. He uncurled his fingers and picked up the ring with one hand, and held Cas' left hand with the other.

"Castiel, will you, uh," their gazes locked, "will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes Dean, yes I'll marry you," Cas almost sobbed but it was without hesitation, using his spare hand to wipe a stray tear away on Dean's face. "Put the ring on my damn finger, Winchester, we're going to get married."

Dean slowly slipped the ring on and held Cas' hand after, kissing where the ring perfectly settled.

"I fucking love you," Dean whispered. Then he leant forward and pressed a delicate kiss on his nose.

As he pulled away he saw the blush on Cas' face and the bright blue eyes, darkened only by dilation. Dean stroked back Cas' flop of a hair out of his eyes, his hand slipping down to cup his face.

"...So beautiful. Dean, I lo-"

Dean woke up.

He looked around himself; yep, still the same cold bed, one side empty, the whole room dark and dismal. He was in a cold sweat felt his heart racing.

Oh god. What had he dreamt about?

"Fuck, fuck, no, oh fuck," his mind flashed back to the way Cas looked up to him in the firelight. He was so beautiful and hopeful, and his face when Dean pulled the ring out-

He had to stop with these fanciful situations where they were not only completely unrealistic but also one sided on Dean's part.

Dean rubbed his face. He needed water. Or alcohol. Anything to get those images, those words, out of his head.

Actually, no.

He had something he needed to tell Cas.