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Why Don't We Do It in a Shed?

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October 2013

"Okay, you have a total of twenty pounds. At thirty-nine cents per pound, that comes to…" Castiel punches the numbers into the calculator in front of him. "Seven dollars and eighty cents."

The man pays him with a ten, then puts the change into the jar near the register. Castiel thanks him sincerely for the donation.

This is the fourth year Castiel has worked a weekend at this pumpkin patch to raise money for the cat rescue from which he adopted his two cats, Lucifer and Meg. The rescue gets 10% of all pumpkin (and other decorative gourd) sales, plus whatever people put in the jar Castiel has set out. He always enjoys it—a nice fall activity, standing out in weather that's cool but not yet cold, watching families scour the patch for their perfect pumpkin, seeing the kids get all excited about the strangely-shaped ones their parents have no interest in.

Speaking of…

"Ben, you realize that will be really hard to carve. We'll probably have to paint it or something instead."

"I don't care, it's awesome!"

The little boy with brown hair and brown eyes just like his mom has chosen a pumpkin with a strange dent in one side, a protrusion on the other, and streaks where the orange is paler than the rest. Cas grins as he watches the exchange.

"Hey, I know," they little boy exclaims, "we can paint it and this bump can be his nose!"

His mother sighs. "Okay, fine. But I'm also getting this nice smooth one for carving. You know you'll be disappointed if we don't have one to put a light in for a real jack-o-lantern when Halloween gets here."

"Sweet!"

The boy runs over to Castiel's table, his mother following behind slowly. She's rolling her eyes, but she's smiling. They put their pumpkins on the scale.

"You've got eighteen pounds here, at thirty-nine cents per pound… seven dollars and two cents."

The woman pays with a twenty and tosses the coins from her change into the jar and she and Ben head off, each carrying a pumpkin.

There's nobody trying to check out at the moment, so Castiel looks around as he drinks the free bottle of apple cider that the pumpkin patch owners gave him. His eyes immediately land on a very, very attractive man.

This guy looks like a model—full lips, wide green eyes, perfect cheekbones. He's wearing a flannel shirt over his t-shirt, but the t-shirt is just tight enough to show that he definitely works out. And when he turns around, he shows off a perfect ass.

Unfortunately, the guy is there with his wife and kid—a petite red-haired lady in a hoodie designed to look like a Star Trek uniform (well hey, at least this family has taste) and a little girl about three years old with her father's light brown hair. As Cas watches them, the man scoops the little girl up and lets her ride on his shoulders as they walk out into the pumpkins.

Well, the guy may be straight and married with a kid, but there's no harm in looking, right?

So in between the next few customers, Castiel watches the little family make its way through the patch. The woman is pulling one of the patch's wagons behind her, and they quickly fill it with a wide variety—two large carving pumpkins, several small pumpkins and gourds of various colors, and three pie pumpkins. The man seems to be a very indulgent father, as he basically tosses any small pumpkin that his daughter grabs into the wagon. The entire scene is pretty adorable, and Cas can't help but wish he could find a guy who looks like that and is that good with kids. And who likes dick. Must like dick. That's generally the tricky part.

The family makes its way back toward the front of the patch to check out. They're getting fairly close when the mother and daughter wander off a bit to look at a scarecrow display that's caught the girl's eye. The man seems to be considering getting one more carving pumpkin, and Castiel lets himself enjoy the show as the man bends over to inspect several pumpkins one after the other.

He suddenly grabs one, standing back up and turning around to put it in the wagon, and Castiel is mortified that the man catches him checking out his ass. Shit. This is Kansas, that kind of thing can get you a punch in the face, just for looking at the wrong person in the wrong way. Cas really should have known to be more careful, but to be honest he gets a little bored when nobody's checking out and his mind wanders.

Castiel's eyes widen in fear, but the guy doesn't look angry. In fact, he gives Cas a flirtatious smile and lets his own eyes wander down Castiel's body.

Castiel gasps, and knows his face is turning pink. Okay, so the guy is maybe not totally straight and maybe also thinks there's no harm in looking. Okay. He hurriedly busies himself doing… something. Something important involving the calculator and the donation jar. And fixing the sign. He wishes desperately that somebody would come up to buy their damn pumpkins.

Unfortunately, hot guy is the first person to answer Cas's prayers, pulling his wagonload over while his wife and kid are still distracted.

"So how does this work?" the guy asks, flashing a friendly grin but with intent in his eyes that both excites and confuses Castiel.

"It's fairly straightforward," Cas explains. "We weigh your pumpkins using that scale right there, everything is thirty-nine cents per pound, you pay me, cash only."

"Awesome," the guy says, and his smile widens into something bright that lights up his entire face. Castiel tries not to stare, but he can't help but give his own small smile back.

It's clear that they won't fit all of the pumpkins onto the scale at once, so they split it into two groups. Castiel helps the man load the pumpkins onto the scale and keep track of which ones have been weighed and which ones haven't, writing down the totals for each group. The air between them is charged as they work together, the mutual attraction obvious. Cas sort of wishes the guy's wife would come over and break the spell.

As they each heft one last pumpkin back into the cart and stand up, the man holds out his hand.

"I'm Dean, by the way."

Castiel shakes his hand. "Castiel, nice to meet you. Let's find out how much this haul is going to cost you."

It's definitely not his imagination that Dean's hand lingers longer than it needs to, pulling away slowly so that fingertips brush over Cas's palm. He swallows and tries not to shiver, looking down at the paper he's written the weights on. He adds them together and punches the total into his calculator.

"Impressive. You, Dean, are now the proud owner of seventy-three pounds of pumpkins, which will cost twenty-eight dollars and forty-seven cents."

"Now that is a shitload of pumpkins," Dean says with a smile as he hands over two twenties and two pennies. "Don't get me wrong, I love pumpkin pie, but I never thought I'd be buying seventy-three pounds of the things."

Castiel laughs and hands back his change. Then raises his eyebrows as Dean puts the entire eleven dollars and fifty-five cents into the donation jar.

Then Dean is leaning into his personal space, hands braced on the table, and Castiel can hardly breathe.

"So Castiel, when do you get to leave your post?"

"E-excuse me?" Castiel is honestly confused.

"If I give you my number," Dean continues in what is undeniably a seductive tone of voice, one that's going straight to Cas's dick despite his upstairs brain's protestations, "maybe you could text me or call me when you get off, we could get some dinner or something?"

Castiel's entire body stiffens as the blood drains from his face. He cannot believe that the same man who not ten minutes ago was acting like a Father of the Year candidate now has the gall to hit on him. He glares at Dean with undisguised disgust.

Dean's eyes widen and he backs off quickly.

"Shit, sorry man, I just thought—I thought I saw you looking at me, and I—fuck."

"You are seriously trying to pick me up with your wife and daughter not fifty feet away?" Castiel growls, quietly enough that no passersby can hear. "I have no interest in being anyone's dirty little secret, thanks."

"Whoa, I—no no no!" Relief floods Dean's face, and a shaky smile returns. "You thought—dude, that's not. That's my niece, man. And my buddy Charlie, hell, she's gayer than me. There's nothing—not—no. No way." He's sort of flailing his hands around in a desperate attempt to communicate that apparently there is nothing going on between him and the red-haired woman who is now picking up his niece.

Castiel sighs in relief, the tension flowing out of his body immediately.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed—"

"No, no, man, I get it. I totally should have known what that looked like. It's a frigging pumpkin patch, I'm here with a woman and a kid, what else were you gonna think?"

They stand there awkwardly for a moment while they each process what just happened. Then Castiel's brain finally catches up, processing the fact that this incredibly hot guy is actually single and interested in him.

He tilts his head, giving Dean a playful grin.

"So have I scared you away, or are you still interested?" he practically purrs.

Dean's entire face transforms, and Castiel thinks for a moment he might get shoved down onto his table. And he would be totally okay with that.

"Oh, I'm still interested, all right." Dean's gaze travels down Cas's body slowly, and god but it's been a while since anyone at all has looked at him like this, let alone fully clothed and in public.

Dean lets his eyes slide smoothly from Cas to the table, where he grabs a pen and scrap of paper to write down his phone number.

"I'm actually only here for the morning," Castiel tells him as he writes. Cas checks his watch. "My replacement should be here in ten minutes or so."

Just then, Charlie suddenly appears next to Dean, the little girl on her hip.

"Mary wants to go on a hayride, can we go on a hayride Dean, pleeeease pretty please?" Now that Castiel knows Charlie isn't competition, she's actually pretty adorable.

"Right. Mary wants to. I bet." Dean smirks at them. "Mary, do you know what a hayride is?"

"We ride on hay," the little girl says matter-of-factly.

"Do you know what hay is?"

"No." Mary is very definitive in her answer, nodding her head to punctuate her assertion.

"Traitor!" Charlie gasps, and tickles Mary. Dean rolls his eyes affectionately, and Castiel tries not to melt at how adorable this guy can be when he's not being obscenely sexy.

"Whatever, go ride on the freaking hay. Just don't let her fall off the truck or anything, or Sammy'll never let me take her anywhere again."

"You don't want to—" Charlie cuts herself off, looking between Castiel and Dean, who are now both standing there somewhat awkwardly again. Cas doesn't really want to leer at Dean's body in front of the little girl no matter what her relationship to Dean, after all. Charlie glances down and sees the paper with Dean's phone number and a smile spreads over her face. "Well praise Kahless, you found some balls."

"Balls?" Mary asks, looking around for what one can only assume are the toy balls she thinks Dean has found.

"Uh, no! No balls!" Charlie squeaks, panicked, as Dean snorts at her. "I did not say that!" She looks back at Dean, wide-eyed. "Right. So we're going for a hayride. I think we'll be back in like half an hour or so. Bye!" She gives each of them a wave before literally running away with Mary.

Dean chuckles at her retreating form. "And my brother thinks I'm the one who's gonna teach her bad words."

When he looks back at Cas, they're smiling almost shyly at each other. The sudden appearance of a small child sort of drained all the sexual tension out of the situation, but the mutual attraction is still very much there.

"So, I guess I've got a half an hour to kill," Dean says, shrugging.

Castiel shrugs as well, feigning innocence. "Aside from the next five minutes or so, I've got no plans for the next half hour."

"Lemme truck these bad boys over to my car, and I'll meet you back here?"

Castiel leans on the table, smiling flirtatiously. 

"I look forward to it." 

Five minutes later another volunteer shows up to take Castiel's place, and he goes to sit on a nearby hay bale to wait for Dean. As he sits, he looks around the pumpkin patch and considers the options for filling twenty to thirty minutes with a guy he just met. Then a grin spreads slowly across his face.

He's startled when Dean plops down next to him on the hay bale.

"So, you gonna show me around the farm?" Dean asks, an easy smile on his face as he bumps his shoulder against Castiel's.

Cas nudges him back before standing up. "I had some ideas."

He starts off to their left and motions for Dean to follow him.

"So is that dinner invitation still good?" Cas asks as they walk.

"Unless you manage to make me hate you in the next half hour, hell yeah it's still good," Dean replies, sounding like there's no way Castiel could make Dean hate him in the next half hour.

Castiel grins at him, feeling more confident about his plan.

"Good. So we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other later."

Dean raises an eyebrow.

"Do I want to know what we're gonna do now if you're saving that for later?"

Castiel just shrugs, still smiling to himself. He glances over at Dean and their eyes lock, the heat from earlier suddenly flaring back to life between them. He watches as Dean's face transforms from skeptical-and-slightly-amused to intrigued-and-more-than-slightly-aroused.

He finally has to pull his gaze away to watch where they're going. He's long since learned how easy it is to trip over stray children in this place. They're nearing the front of the farm, where there are some animals for children to pet and a shop full of locally-made goods for adults to buy, and Cas veers off to one side. Thirty more seconds of walking, and they're far enough away that the sounds of children yelling about the goats and sheep have faded a bit.

Cas ducks between a few trees, and their destination becomes obvious: a shed containing equipment that Castiel is quite sure is only used to prepare the place for opening in the morning and to clean it up at night. He's never seen anyone anywhere near the shed during the day. He only knows about it because the first year he was here, he helped cart a table out of it when he arrived in the morning.

Dean chuckles as they approach it.

"I can't decide if this is classier than the bathroom at a bar, or way, way sketchier," he says, but does not show the slightest disinclination to follow Castiel straight to the shed.

"Well, we do already have a real date planned," Cas says as they go through the unlocked door, "which I believe makes this entire enterprise many times classier than anything that happens in most bar bathrooms."

Dean makes a "you have a point" face while Cas pulls the door firmly shut behind them. He looks around briefly and grabs a broom from one corner, jamming it through the handles of the shed doors.

He feels a warm body at his back as hands come to rest on his hips. Dean's lips brush the shell of Cas's ear, sending a chill down his back. His grip on the broom handle tightens slightly.

"Well, I guess makin' me hate you is out," Dean's voice rumbles against him. "In fact, so far, I like you a lot."

Cas could stand there for quite a while, letting Dean take him apart slowly with light touches and murmured words, but they don't have quite a while. They'll be lucky if they have twenty minutes left on the clock at this point.

So he turns around and lets Dean pull him in by the hips. His fingers curl tightly in Dean's flannel shirt as their mouths come together, lips sliding seamlessly open against each other. Dean kisses him like this could never be just a one-time tryst in a dusty shed, like he wants to figure Cas out and file that information away for their next time, and the time after that.

Dean starts to press him back, but he's still standing in front of the doors so this just makes them rattle against the broomstick. They pull apart just enough to laugh at the sound.

"Bet you thought you put that there to keep people from barging in," Dean says into Cas's mouth as they move toward a wall. "Turns out it was so I don't push you out the door on your ass."

"I'm sure it's capable of preventing a variety of embarrassing situations." Cas isn't sure why he's continuing the conversation while Dean's mouth is working its way down his neck. Less talking would probably be good right now.

So he shuts up and slides his hands up under Dean's shirt, and they both make little noises at the feel of skin on skin, like it's the best damn thing they've ever felt. He makes those noises again when he feels Dean's hands sliding up and across his back, sparks flying in their wake.

Dean's body presses against his, and Cas wishes like hell they could get their shirts all the way off without probably coating them in an inch of dust and grime. Maybe later, after dinner, he'll get the chance to feel Dean's bare chest against his own. For now, though, what he definitely feels is a sizable bulge straining against Dean's jeans—and he wants to feel more of that. He slides his left hand down between Dean's legs and grins when Dean whimpers. He rubs back and forth a little and Dean's head drops onto his shoulder.

"Fuck," Dean whispers, before shoving one hand down the back of Cas's pants to grab his ass. Dean lifts his head and they're kissing again, but it's cut short when his finger slides along the cleft and Cas's head falls back against the wall of the shed, knocking dirt loose around him. He slides his right hand down out of Dean's shirt and starts working on Dean's fly.

For all their earlier talk about bar bathrooms, Castiel has never actually done anything like this before—sex with a stranger in a semi-public place. He's not even that into one-night-stands; he's not really sure what inspired this. Beyond the fact that Dean is one of the most attractive men he's seen in a long time, of course. But now his hand is slipping into Dean's boxers, one of Dean's hands is doing something delicious with his nipple, and he's going to be left with one hell of a Pavlovian response to the smell of dirt and hay. Overall, Cas is pretty pleased with the decisions he's made today.

Dean gasps when Cas's hand slides over the head of his dick; his mouth is right next to Cas's ear at the time and the sound sends a bolt of lightning down his spine. Before the ghost of it has even faded, before a coherent thought can form, Cas has dropped to his knees.

"Oh!" The movement catches Dean off guard; he startles and falls forward a little before bracing a hand against the wall. By the time Dean's steady again, Cas is sliding his mouth halfway down his dick. "Fuck, Cas, shit."

Dean is clearly trying to keep his voice down, which is a shame. As Cas sucks hard on the head and Dean stifles a moan, Cas wonders what he'd sound like in a bed with no one around. He wonders how loudly he could make Dean shout his name.

Cas sets up a rhythm between his head on the top and his hand on the bottom of the shaft, and he feels a hand slide softly through his hair.

"Ah, fuck, I wish it weren't so dark in here." Dean's voice is harsh and raspy, barely above a whisper. "God, you're so fuckin' gorgeous, Cas, wish I could see you—fuck—fuck yeah—see you better. Wanna see those lips around my dick."

Now that Dean's mouth is no longer occupied with Cas's mouth or ears or neck, he is apparently very talkative, and Cas does not mind at all. In fact, as Dean continues to whisper a litany of praise and ideas about what else he'd like to do to Cas, Cas has to reach down with his free hand and undo his own fly just to relieve the pressure that's getting painful. When he's done with that, he puts the hand to work on Dean's balls.

"… Wish I had some supplies and a little more time, I'd let you fuck me right here. Shit, haven't done that in years, but I… oh… oh god…" Dean's voice breaks off into a moan as Cas sinks down, pushing Dean's cock right back to the back of his throat and swallowing around it. As much as he was enjoying Dean's dirty talk, it makes rendering him incapable of speech that much more satisfying.

Satisfying enough that Cas lets out a pleased hum, and the vibrations pull a sound out of Dean that Cas will charitably not call a whine. Dean's hand tightens on his hair.

"Close already… shit… ohhhh fuck yes…"

Cas feels Dean's cock thicken and pulls back just enough that he doesn't choke when the waves of warm liquid land on his tongue. He swallows it down, making sure to use the extra suction to his best advantage.

He pulls off slowly, feeling Dean shudder above him as he lets his tongue drag lightly over the head. Dean immediately pulls him up and into a fierce kiss. Dean reaches down and palms his now achingly-hard cock and he can't control the trembling moan he lets out against Dean's mouth.

"Fuck, you're wet," Dean whispers, and starts spreading the precome around with his thumb.

"What can I say? I—I really like—giving head," Cas gasps, "and—and dirty talk." Dean wanting to taste himself on Cas's mouth happened to be the cherry on the "hit Castiel's turn-ons" sundae, and he's pretty sure this is going to be over embarrassingly quickly. Well, it would be embarrassing if they weren't on a schedule. Dean grins and kisses his way to Cas's ear, sucking on the lobe a little before talking right into it.

"In that case, I guess I better keep my mouth free for now," Dean's voice rumbles as he starts to stroke Cas in earnest. Cas lets out a whine several octaves above his usual speaking voice. "Y'know, I take back what I said before. I wouldn't want you to fuck me here. I want you to be able to watch while I stretch myself out for you, get my hole all nice and wet. Then I wanna climb on top of you and sink down nice and slow, get you in deep before I start riding your dick."

Castiel is digging his fingers into Dean's biceps—Dean's damn nice biceps, and there's another turn-on checked off. His head has fallen back against the wall of the shed again, but now mingled in with the dust is the smell of Dean, of arousal and sweat. Dean's free hand is gripping the back of his neck, holding him in place so that Dean can continue to murmur filthy suggestions into his ear. As if Cas has any desire to move away.

Dean's hand speeds up a little, squeezes a little tighter, and Castiel has to stifle a cry when the orgasm that he'd thought was still a moment or two away surges through him without warning. His hips twitch involuntary as he feels himself spilling all over Dean's hand. Dean groans into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine that adds a new dimension to the last wave of pleasure as it courses through him.

He's panting, chest heaving, coming back to himself when he feels soft kisses being pressed below his ear and along his jaw. It's sweet and tender, a contrast to the rushed desperation of the sex. He lets himself just soak it up for a moment, then tips his head and captures Dean's mouth with his own. He keeps the kisses gentle as he slides his hands up to the sides of Dean's neck, fingertips just brushing into the hair at his nape.

The kisses slow, finally petering out as they nuzzle against each other, smiling softly. Castiel's heart is racing, and it's not leftover from the orgasm. He knows almost nothing about this man except that he has a niece and is up for sex in a shed with a stranger. But whatever they're doing right now, whatever this is that's passing between them—sure, a lot of it is afterglow. Not all of it, though. There's something unexpectedly intimate about it. Cas isn't really into one night stands, but it's not like he hasn't had his share, and it's never quite been like this after.

"Guess we better clean up," Dean says, his voice low. And it should shatter the moment, pop the little bubble of whatever it is around them, but it doesn't at all. They're both still staring and smiling and brushing their noses together.

Castiel reaches down and brings Dean's messy hand up. "Hm, mostly you," he says. "Sorry about that."

Dean chuckles. "Don't lie to me."

"Well, if I got any on your clothes I am sorry," Cas clarifies. Dean leans in, nuzzling and kissing below his ear again, and he gasps before continuing. "I'm sure you don't need your niece asking about strange stains on your shirt."

"Nah, I think my clothes are fine," Dean mumbles. Cas hums.

"Better keep them that way," he murmurs, before he starts licking Dean's hand clean. He runs his tongue over the palm first, then takes the pinkie into his mouth and sucks. As he moves on to the next finger, Dean groans.

"Fuck, man, stop being so damn hot. 'S not fair."

Cas can't help smiling smugly as he slides Dean's thumb out of his mouth, teasing it with his tongue as he does. He looks Dean in the eye as best as he can in the dim light.

"Well, what were you planning to do with all that?"

Dean looks at his now-mostly-clean hand stupidly. "Gotta admit, I wasn't thinking that far ahead. Ah, shit, what time is it, anyhow?"

Cas manages to fumble his phone out of his pocket. "It's been right about a half an hour."

They're tucking themselves back into their pants when Dean speaks again.

"So," he says lightly, "is this shed where you take all the hot guys you pick up at the pumpkin patch?"

"Yes, actually," Cas says as he zips up his pants.

"Huh," Dean says, and turns away, ostensibly to pull the broom out of the door handles. "That generally work out for you?" His voice is a little too casual to be casual.

"Well, so far," Cas says, smiling as they push the doors open and step into the light. "On all one of you, yes, it's worked quite well."

Dean snorts, and the smile he's aiming at his feet as they close the shed doors looks pleased. Now that they're out in the sun they can actually take a moment to assess how they look. Dean bursts out laughing as he looks Cas up and down.

"Oh man, your knees don't look suspicious at all," he snickers.

Cas laughs, too, doing his best to beat the dirt off his jeans. They make some attempt at fixing each other's hair, and then Castiel leads the way to the bathrooms so Dean can actually wash his hands.

He tries really hard not to smile too ridiculously when Dean threads their fingers together as they set off back toward the hayride area, but he's not very successful.

"When are you available for dinner later?" he asks as they stand there, waiting for the truck full of hay and people that's lumbering down a dirt road toward them.

Dean shrugs. "Mary's gotta get down for her nap, so I think we're just stopping at McDonald's so I can spoil her with a happy meal and then getting her back. I should be home by two at the latest. Don't really have plans after that. How about you?"

"My exciting plan for the afternoon and evening was to binge watch Orange is the New Black, which my sister finally talked me into watching."

"Charlie loves that show. Is it any good?"

"I have no idea, I haven't actually started watching it yet." They glance at each other. "Would you like to come over and find out? If the first episode sucks, we can find something else."

Dean squeezes his hand, smiling. "Sounds like a plan."

April 2015

"Fuck, babe, you sure—"

"For the last time, Dean, I am not going to risk getting lube all over that suit. You can wait until we get to the hotel."

"You're no fu—" Dean's complaint is cut off by a gasp as Castiel resumes stroking them together in his hand. He's so far refused to fuck Dean in any position or let either of them get on their knees in this grimy shed, not with the amount they paid for these tailored three-piece suits. Which, by the way, look fucking fantastic on both of them, so he's very glad he managed to talk Dean out of just renting tuxes from some shop in a strip mall.

For the next couple of minutes, the only sounds are the muffled grunts and broken-off moans they're making into each other's mouths. Then there's a bang on the door to the shed, making them both jump a mile and blurt obscenities.

"I know you two are in there, I watched you sneak away," Charlie yells through the door. "I neither need nor want to know what it is you're doing in there, but it's time to cut the pie so get your asses out here."

Dean groans. "Five minutes, Charlie."

Cas goes back to what he was doing, making Dean suck in a breath.

"Okay," Charlie's voice carries into the shed, "but people are starting to notice you're gone!"

"Well they can go have their own damn wedding, then." Cas can just see Dean squeezing his eyes shut in the dim light. He's keeping his voice remarkably steady given how hard and fast he's getting his dick stroked at the moment. "We'll be back in five minutes. Maybe seven if we feel like making everyone sweat a little."

"I'll try to keep your parents distracted," she finally says, and they can hear her tromping away from the shed.

Within just a couple more minutes, they're both spilling their loads into the handkerchief Dean had made fun of Cas for putting in his pocket this morning.

"I told you that would come in handy," he pants, leaning his forehead on his husband's (husband's!) shoulder.

They get themselves straightened up and exit the shed, Castiel tossing the handkerchief into a nearby trash can. The farm looks so different in the spring—it feels weird to look around and see trees covered in green leaves.

Suddenly, Dean wraps his arms around Cas's waist, pulling him close. Cas can't help the grin that spreads across his face, and Dean has on one to match.

"We're gonna take our kids here every year, and we are never, ever, ever gonna show them that shed," Dean says, his nose against Cas's.

Castiel laughs and pulls his husband (husband!) in for a kiss.

"I love you so much," he murmurs against Dean's mouth.

"I love you, too," Dean replies, but then his eyes widen. "Oh! Dude, I almost forgot!"

He pulls back to dig in his pants pocket as Castiel looks at him questioningly. Dean pulls out a small piece of paper and hands it to Cas.

Cas unfolds it to see some numbers written down. He frowns at them, but draws in a breath when he realizes that it's the bit of paper he used to write down the weights and prices of the pumpkins Dean bought on the day they met. Dean reaches out and turns it over.

"I wrote that that night, after I got home."

Dean had come over to Cas's place right after dropping Mary off at Sam's, and they'd watched four episodes of OITNB back-to-back before ordering a pizza for dinner. They never turned the show back on, instead cuddling and talking on Cas's couch far into the night. It was nearly one when Dean finally went home. He'd come back the very next day to watch more episodes (and for Cas to finally fuck him).

The note on the back of the pumpkin receipt reads:

Two days ago, I told Sam I had no interest in settling down with someone, marriage, kids, etc. I think maybe the guy who sold me these is gonna make me eat my words. Don't fuck it up, Dean. 10-12-13 10-13-13 (oops, it's after midnight)

"You never told me about this," Cas murmurs. He can feel tears pricking at his eyes. It wouldn't be the first time he's cried today.

Dean shrugs, biting his lip. "Duh. I never married you before."

Cas laughs and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, careful not to get the paper wet. Just then, Charlie bursts through the trees again. She doesn't say a word, just stomps over and grabs them both by the elbow and starts pulling.