“Nice Day for a White Wedding”
The buzz surrounding rock god Dean Winchester’s nuptials was unprecedented. For weeks now gossip rags, internet chatrooms, and the TV hosts of celebrity news shows had been analyzing and speculating on the particulars of the big day. The hottest topic of conversation, and probably at least half of the reason the anticipation was so crazy was that no one seemed to have any idea who the rockstar was marrying.
In Dean Winchester’s almost decade-long career in the spotlight, he’d always been intensely private. Gracious and generous with his fans, he was the kind of celebrity who never let on if he minded being stopped on the street for a selfie, and who’d spend an hour signing autographs for free after a show. While he was occasionally scandalous, and frequently portrayed in snaps featured in magazines as a hard partier, as far as the public was concerned, he was one big mystery. He’d never issued any kind of public statement confirming or denying either his relationship status or the identity of any potential lover. To anyone’s knowledge he’d never hooked up with any fans or groupies, and for a man with an absolute legion of followers dying to throw their bras and panties at him on stage, this was a feat. He’d never been caught so much as holding hands in public with anyone, either.
His fan site message boards were filled with everything from pure conjecture to elaborate, CSI-like explanations dissecting his every public appearance, interview, and trip to the grocery store. Some fans felt sure that Dean was just a confirmed bachelor who got by on one-night stands and nondisclosure agreements, afraid to let anyone get too close, and others were beyond certain he’d been in a long-term relationship all along. Popular guesses as to the identity of Dean’s mystery lover included Lisa Braeden, Dean’s self-reported “first high school sweetheart,” a rumor fueled by Dean’s occasional appearance at her son Ben’s soccer games, but now Lisa was supposedly engaged to a doctor in her hometown. Still, fans speculated the doctor was being paid and that he was simply a distraction from the truth. There was also Charlie Bradbury, Dean’s high-profile Silicon-Valley-sweetheart best friend, but that rumor was quickly quashed when Charlie married her girlfriend Dorothy in a flashy Vegas elopement. Also making the suspect list was Joanna Harvelle, a childhood friend of Dean’s who stayed mostly off the radar and had never given an interview on the subject. The majority of fans seemed to agree that Jo was the most likely suspect, as she and Dean had frequently been photographed together over the years, and their families seemed particularly close. The sticking point with Jo was that she’d never moved out of her and Dean’s hometown of Lawrence, Kansas, and Dean currently owned a home in Los Angeles. Perhaps, folks suggested, they were just waiting for marriage to officially move in together.
So the press release announcing Dean’s engagement and the forthcoming wedding was surprising for several reasons. The mystery significant other, the lack of precedence for any similar disclosure, and the idea that the big secret would finally be revealed very soon. Dean’s camp made no attempt to conceal the location of the wedding or reception, and on the day in question, the street outside the church in which he was to be married was almost impassable with paparazzi, TV news crews, and equipment. In fact, the local police had to start ticketing folks to get them to move enough to create a thruway for local traffic and the wedding party. It was a madhouse. Security, both marked and plainclothes, was everywhere as well, ensuring that the exciting environment wouldn’t turn suddenly unsafe for the superstar and his bride.
As a black stretch-SUV limousine pulled up to the curb, the tension and excitement permeating the air became that much more charged. Cameras were raised and reporters counted down for their cameramen to go live. As Dean stepped out, lights flashed and the crowd roared with questions, aiming microphones in his direction as far as they could lean over the security barriers. Dean simply smiled his well-known, disarming grin and waved at them. The fans that had gathered screamed and cheered, “WE LOVE YOU, DEAN,” and “MARRY ME INSTEAD,” to which Dean winked, blew kisses and good-naturedly called that he loved them, too.
He was followed out of the limo by his younger brother as well as his band’s bassist, Sam Winchester, who also played the crowd like a pro until Dean put his arm around Sam’s shoulder and they walked together up the steps and into the church. The other band members followed from the giant car, as well as some friends of Dean’s including Charlie and Jo. As Jo stepped out in a bridesmaid’s gown that obviously matched the waistcoats of the groomsmen and was also very obviously not a wedding dress, the whispering and chatter amongst the crowd increased. TV personalities were heard updating their audiences that the identity of Dean’s secret fiance was still a mystery and that it was no longer suspected to be Jo. Some speculated that Lisa might be back in play after all. Off camera, producers could be heard yelling on cell phones for their underlings to dredge the depths of the internet and Dean’s social media for any other clues as to who the mystery girl could be; everyone wanted to break the story first.
Shortly after Dean and his crew had disappeared inside, a second, identical stretch SUV pulled up and sat for a moment before it began unloading. Clearly dressed as members of the wedding party but no one familiar to the paparazzi or fans, several men exited and waved politely to the crowd. This group also held a couple of women, also wearing bridesmaid’s gowns. They were photographed as much as Dean’s other friends were, but not as much as Dean and Sam. The crowd held it’s breath in anticipation as they waited for the bride to exit the limo last, but no bride ever came. The chauffeur shut the door, indicating that everyone was out. Confusion spread like wildfire, but perhaps there would be a third limo? It wouldn’t be unusual for a celebrity of Dean’s stature to have a lot of members in his wedding party, of course.
The group from the second limo was still making their way inside, the first members held up on the stairs for some reason by what appeared to be a wedding coordinator, when it happened.
“Oh my gosh,” one of the seasoned paparazzi murmured, as she flipped through her digital photos. She nudged the man standing next to her. “Look at the girls.” Everyone in the pap’s immediate vicinity who heard the conversation immediately directed their attention to the women.
“They’re just bridesmaids… right?” Someone replied.
“Yea… they’re bridesmaids,” the original pap agreed, “No name, unheard of bridesmaids. But look at them. They look like him,” she added, pointing to the man who had led the group out of the limo. The crowd started buzzing again, and the pap had to raise her voice to be heard. “They’re siblings!! They’re his bridesmaids, he’s the groom,” she finished excitedly, raising her zoom-lens camera to snap some shots of the group loitering on the stairs.
The sudden ruckus from the crowd must have clued the wedding party in that something was happening, and the paparazzo who solved the mystery was able to get a beautiful reaction shot of a tall and muscular, dark-haired, blue-eyed man as he looked over his shoulder and cracked a huge, gummy smile at the crowd, lifting his (silver-ringed) left hand slightly in acknowledgment before he disappeared inside the church. The crowd went wild.
The ceremony provided enough time for cursory research to be done on the mystery groom. A scan of Dean Winchester’s social media revealed the man to be someone named “Castiel Novak”, and further research declared him to be a graduate of the same college Dean had dropped out of when his band struck their first record deal. Castiel and Dean had known each other for over ten years. Ten years of dating in secret, of hiding their relationship. In fact, a closer look at Dean’s activity over the years revealed Castiel to often be where Dean was, whether it was on tour, on vacation, and yes, even at the grocery store. Castiel, it turns out, was just a simple gardener. He ran a small business out of a nondescript office in Los Angeles, catering to a variety of clientele. In fact, he’d had spreads glorifying his work on celebrity properties make it into magazines such as Better Homes & Gardens, but he’d never acknowledged them or even given an interview. It seemed that he was truly just a quiet man, not interested at all in fame or attention. Apparently, he’d provided all the floral arrangements, corsages and boutineers for his own wedding as well, a seemingly obvious clue that reporters were now kicking themselves for not picking up on.
Fans and paparazzi alike had passed him off over the years as Dean’s security, his manager, his childhood friend, his bro. A small faction of Dean’s fanbase actually seemed dedicated to proving that Castiel was Dean’s stalker, as crazy as that might sound. A careful review of Dean’s history actually had Castiel written all over it, but no one had guessed that the quiet man in the background had stolen the wild rockstar’s heart. No one had even seemed to realize Dean wasn’t as straight as his macho-image was designed to make him appear. The pure novelty of the story overrode the reporters’ irritation at their own failure to discover Dean’s secret, as they cobbled together headlines and segments to air as soon as the wedding let out.
When the church doors opened, and Dean and Castiel emerged hand-in-hand, the crowd went silent for a moment as Castiel seemed to shrink back slightly into the doorway. Though unable to get close enough to have any shot at hearing what was being said, those watching could see Dean lean in and place his hand on the small of his husband’s back, and whisper in his ear. Weeks later, in the first interview Dean had ever granted about his personal life (and with Castiel by his side), he would admit that in this moment he was offering Castiel - “Cas”, as Dean apparently called him - an out, reminding him that he didn’t have to do this, and suggesting they escape out the back door of the church after pantsing Sam to create a distraction. The image that would be splashed across magazine covers the day after their wedding would be Castiel’s reaction; head thrown back, eyes crinkled in laughter, his hand on his husband’s cheek while Dean looked on with what the kids today would certainly describe as “heart eyes.”
Castiel seemed at ease after that, moving into the late-afternoon sunlight with a smile on his face and his eyes locked on Dean’s. His husband’s hand had yet to leave his back in an obvious display of possession and protection. The newlyweds paused at the top of the stairs where Dean cupped Cas’ cheek with his free hand and kissed him unabashedly, surprising both Castiel and the crowd by dipping him low and making Castiel throw his head back and laugh again, as the wedding party created a path for them to walk through to the waiting limos.
The crowd screamed and threw things, mostly flowers and rice, but also the occasional undergarment, and reporters vied for the couple’s attention, hollering questions and some making provocative statements. The wedding party threw rice, and someone started blasting Dean’s music, a song off of the band’s very first album called, “Out of Perdition”, which for some reason made Dean and Castiel take notice and laugh, but for the most part, they only had eyes for each other. Ignoring the onlookers except for one last wave and a kiss from Castiel on Dean’s cheek that made his face relax in a way most of his longtime fans claimed they’d never seen it do, they slipped into the limo and away from the chaos.
Besides some distance shots of them entering and exiting the reception location, they wouldn’t be heard from again for weeks, and Castiel’s interview with Dean would be the only one he’d ever give. Apparently, that was the way they liked it.
Dean slides into the limo after Castiel, immediately locking the doors and pressing the button to put up the divider between them and the driver, not hesitating to then climb up and straddle Castiel’s lap. “You did so good baby,” he croons between kisses and nips to Castiel’s mouth and stubbly jaw. He starts working on the buttons of Castiel’s shirt and waistcoat while showering him with praise. “So good, you were so brave sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.”
“Dean,” Castiel protests, chuckling but pushing him away a little. “I didn’t do anything. I walked forty yards while holding your hand. It was hardly torture.”
Dean leans in and captures his lips softly, but firmly. “It was a big deal to me,” he insists. “I know you hate this stuff. I know you wish things were different sometimes. It’s ok. It doesn’t mean you don’t love me. But thank you.”
Castiel sighs and taps the side of Dean’s face with his open hand a little harder than gently, but still playful. “I’d do it a hundred times over if it meant not having to hide anymore,” he says softly and is rewarded with Dean’s biggest, most genuine smile.
“Me too, huggy bear,” he says, leaning in to trail kisses down Castiel’s neck as he huffs a laugh at the ridiculous nickname. “Now take these off,” Dean adds, tugging on Castiel’s dress pants, “If we hurry, maybe we can fuck twice on the way to the reception.”
“Ever the optimist,” Castiel replies, rolling his eyes, but his smile doesn’t fade. As the limo pulls away from the curb, he takes Dean’s chin in his hand and forces him to be still so that he can look into his eyes. “I love you,” he says seriously, and Dean’s pretty eyes seem to sparkle even brighter.
“Love you too, huggy bear,” he replies with a grin, and Castiel chucks his face away, but Dean comes right back and his mouth is on Castiel’s, hot and demanding as he grinds down into his lap. “I fucking love you so much,” he says into Castiel’s mouth, now that they aren’t looking at each other. It’s never been easy for Dean to be free with his emotions, but he can’t deny Castiel this, or really anything at all. “I’ve loved you forever.”
Dean pushes Castiel’s dress shirt off of his shoulder, exposing his collarbone and latches on immediately, sucking a big purple bruise into his skin. “I could bite you,” he suggests, “like animals do, right here,” he’s mouthing at the crook between Castiel’s neck and shoulder, “Mate you for real, mark you up… Now that I can, I want to show everyone you’re mine, in every single way.”
“Jesus Christ, Dean,” Castiel breathes. “If I’d known you’d be like this I would’ve let you marry me years ago.” His hands slide down Dean’s sides and swiftly unbutton his pants, pushing them down to mid-thigh and freeing his erection. Surprisingly, Dean’s gone commando, and Castiel groans. “While I don’t know that we’ll make round two before the reception, you can’t walk around like that and not expect me to drag you into a back room halfway through.”
“Listen to you,” Dean replies as he tongues around Castiel’s nipple, “Talking like I need convincing. Say the word and I’ll fuck you on the cake table in front of everyone.”
“You know, oddly enough, I think that might be what some of my relatives are expecting from a ‘gay rockstar wedding’.” Castiel stops running his hands over Dean long enough to make air quotes, and Dean pulls off from the hickey he’s creating to laugh.
“Touche. Now fucking touch me, Mr. Winchester,” Dean’s voice lowers an octave as he reaches into Castiel’s pants to pull out his cock.
“My pleasure, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel smirks, and tugs Dean closer by his hips so their cocks slide together. Castiel watches Dean’s face as they do, his eyes fluttering half-closed, his lip pulling between his teeth, and an attractive flush spreading across his cheeks. “Beautiful,” Castiel murmurs, as he takes them in hand. “More beautiful than the day I met you.”
“Shut up,” Dean replies, effectively carrying out the request for him by slotting their mouths together and sucking on Castiel’s tongue. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small packet of lube, ripping it open and drizzling it over both of them.
“Mmm,” Castiel sighs, letting his head fall back, Dean chasing his lips as he goes. “So good.” Their hands slide together and Dean uses his leverage to fuck in and out of their fists. A decade of learning each other’s bodies has left both of them able to bring the other to the edge fairly quickly, and Dean isn’t trying to draw things out. “I’m close,” Castiel warns him huskily. “Wish I could come on your face.”
Dean moans, “Now I’m close- Jesus, Cas,” as Castiel whips the pocket square out from Dean’s breast pocket. Castiel secretly takes a moment to imagine Dean as he intends to have him later - bent in half and begging, and that does it. He grunts and tenses up, spilling into his cotton-covered hand, and with a few key turns of his wrist, he has Dean coming a few strokes later, whimpering and sighing into his neck. Thanks to Castiel’s foresight, they’ve managed to spare their tuxes, but they both look mussed beyond repair.
Dean slides to the side of Castiel, just barely off of his lap, legs still slung haphazardly over him and head still tucked into his neck. Castiel happily shifts so he’s sitting on his hip and turned into Dean, and pulls him close. “Are you nervous?”
Castiel doesn’t need context to follow Dean’s train of thought. He pauses for a moment but then answers confidently. “Not at all.”
“Really?” Dean asks, raising his head to eye Castiel skeptically. “People are going to hound you, Cas. You’re never going to be able to fade into the background again. I know that’s… not who you are.”
Castiel shrugs. “I love you,” he says simply. “That’s who I am.” Dean can’t argue with that, so he doesn’t try, just slides back into the safety of Castiel’s body, intent on enjoying the last of their few moments alone. As the limo pulls up to the reception location, they can see the lines of paparazzi lined up as close to the location as they can get. Dean reaches out and fixes Castiel’s tie, which has somehow turned backward.
“Are you ready for this?”
Castiel smiles and takes his hand. “Anything for you, Dean.”
Meanwhile, in a private chat room on officialdeanwinchester.com...
”Destiel Trash Group Chat”
DeansBae67: YOU GUYS!!! Did you SEE!! We were right all along!!! THEIR LOVE IS SO BEAUTIFUL
DestielisReal: BODY LANGUAGE NEVER LIES #Webeenknew #loveislove
CastielLovesDean08: I fucking knew... NO ONE gets accidentally photographed in the background that often. And friends don’t grocery shop together and then time their exits so no one realizes it!!
DestielisReal: LOL. #friendsandwhateverelse, right?! THEY’RE MARRIED. THEY WERE IN LOVE ALL ALONG. swoons
DeansBae67: tinhats FTW... who’s crazy now haters?!?! That tea is salty.
CastielLovesDean08: platonic friends don’t have sleepovers at each other’s houses and go jogging at 530 AM. Idk how no one else picked up on this. Oh well.
DeansBae67: I gotta make a tumblr post. #tagmeta #actualhusbands #destielconfirmed #itsalovestory #hteronormativity #rps for ts
ILOVENAPS: fell asleep again, what did i miss?