This one is also a prompt from @ltleflrt. If any of the rest of you have “marry me” ideas, send them along! I’ll write for SPN or Mass Effect or whatever.
PAIRING: Dean Winchester/Castiel SUMMARY: Dean’s family has a tradition of getting engaged at baseball games. The problem is that Castiel really hates baseball.
There’s a slightly embarrassing tradition in the
Winchester household that spans back a few generations, through all the
branches of the family. And it begins and ends with baseball. The Winchester
line is just this side of obsessed with the summer sport. Doesn’t matter where
they scatter to the four winds, what jobs they have, who their friends are, who
they choose to start families with. It doesn’t even matter whether the
Winchester or the spouse-to-be proposes; it always begins with the jumbo-tron
kiss cam. Every last one of them, down to So-And-So-Five-Times-Removed, has
been engaged at a baseball park. It’s even completely accidental sometimes. Sam
Winchester hadn’t mentioned the tradition, but his wife had pulled out the ring
and asked the age-old question during the seventh inning stretch. They
jumbo-tron only caught the last second of Sam snot crying and saying yes,
though. The cameras had originally been focused on the mascots running the
bases with any children aged 10 and under. Incidentally, Bobby swears that Cubs
won the World Series because of it. Didn’t matter. Dean had been able to turn
his weepy brother’s acceptance into a Vine, and that’s all that matters,
The bottom line is that Winchesters have tied
their lives together with almost every team from the Atlanta Braves to the San
Francisco Giants and all the stadiums in between. It’s pretty awesome.
And Dean Winchester, probably next in line,
thinks he’ll break the tradition. Mostly because his lover, life, lighter of
his loins, Castiel Novak, really fucking hates baseball. He
hates everything about it. He hates the food, he hates the ritualistic cheers,
he hates getting sweaty and sunburned and chapping his ass on the plastic
seats. He fell asleep when the Braves were in the playoffs.
Seriously, who does that?
At any rate, Dean feels sorry for Cas now that
Benny’s moved away and can’t use the other season ticket. It’s a true test of
love that Castiel will even visit the stadium, even if he does stay glued to
his cell phone, doing other things, the entire time. Though, Dean’s pretty sure
that Cas’s limit of devotion would have been reached if they hadn’t had such
good seats this year; shaded and under a fan, so it’s not so blazingly hot.
He also accepts the large, cold beer that Dean
buys out of pity for him while playing on his phone. The more games they go to,
though, the more Castiel pays attention. He won’t ever be a full convert into
the baseball religion, but he does sometimes watch when the Braves are up to
bat. It’s been a slow transition, but it’s happened. Besides, Dean swore that
he’d take someone else to the last two games of the regular season. Castiel
still looks relieved about that as they settle in for what’s shaping up to be a
great afternoon for Dean and a lot of Pokemon hunting for Castiel.
Castiel isn’t paying a single lick of attention
to the game today. Occasionally, he even yawns. He’s had a long week that he
still doesn’t want to talk about. Stressed beyond belief so much so that he’s
been extra snappy and even zoned out so far while brushing his teeth the night
before that he’d jumped a mile and nearly choked on his toothbrush when Dean
had called his name.
Dean props his feet up on the vacant seat in
front of him and drapes his arm over Castiel’s shoulders. “You okay? You
really could have stayed home.”
Castiel shrugs, blinking down at his phone.
“It’s a waste of a ticket. I don’t mind being here. It’s not like this
requires activity on our part.” He pushes his sunglasses up the bridge of
Dean smiles. “You sure? What’s up with you
“It’s nothing,” Castiel assures him,
actually looking up now. “I’m sorry about this week. I know I haven’t been
“Trouble at work?”
Castiel leans into Dean’s side even though it’s
a scorcher today and his shirt is already starting to stick to his back.
Dean kisses the top of his head and winks with a
smirk. “Trouble at home?”
Castiel glares at him with a deadpan frown that
in Dean’s lexicon of Castiel translates to sass. “Sometimes. I live with
Laughing loudly, Dean says, “I love it when
you swear. It’s adorable. Almost like you’re a human.”
“I’m the best you’ve ever had,
“And don’t I know it.”
The rest of their bickering is cut off when the
Braves make a spectacular outfield play and Dean jumps to his feet with a roar,
sloshing his beer. He doesn’t notice - never notices - Castiel staring up at
him fondly. Even the Baseball Grinch realizes that Dean Winchester is rarely as
happy anywhere as he is at Turner Field, spilling his beer and making up new
swear words to shout at the refs.
Play after play until the seventh inning
stretch. The crowds are a lot larger than anticipated, though Castiel should
have expected that since it’s the end of the season. He’s still nervous,
Dean comes back with a loaded paper plate of
nachos destined to be a heart attack, and fresh beers. He sits down and rests
the plate on his knees, placing the beers in the cup holders on the arm of the
chairs. Castiel moves his to the other side, away from Dean.
It’s not the best time, but it’s probably the only
time he’s going to get without waiting a whole other year to do it. He
can’t wait for another year. It’d too close to torture.
So, while Dean stuffs his face in ecstasy with
the greasy food, Castiel reaches into the bottom pocket of his cargo shorts and
pulls out a black velvet box. “Dean,” he says.
Dean turns his head. His mouth is covered in
chili and fake cheese, and he only bothers to wipe off his hands with a stack
of paper napkins.
Castiel takes it back. This is the perfect time.
He holds up the box. Opens it to show the contents. Castiel’s future
husband, is engraved on the top of a platinum bracelet. He says
“Holy shit,” Dean says. The nachos
almost slide off of his legs. “You asking me to marry you?
Here? In the place you hate most in the world?”
Castiel carefully takes off his sunglasses and
hooks them on his t-shirt collar. “I hate my cubicle more than baseball
stadiums. And this is the place that you love most in the world. So, yes. Here.
Now. Would you like to marry me, Dean?”
Dean takes the bracelet out of the box and slips
it over his wrist. “Sure I would.”
Castiel kisses him on the lips, and it tastes
like awful nacho cheese and chili. He hates the taste, but he loves the way
that Dean laughs into the embrace, holding him closer as cheering erupts around
them. Castiel glances up just in time to see them on the kiss cam. He grins,
waves, dives back into Dean and actually enjoys the rest of the game. Maybe
he’ll convert eventually for real. Maybe he’ll make a new tradition of being
married on home plate. Sky’s the limit in such a place of worship.