In hindsight, Dean really should have thought it through a bit better.

Fuck, he hated airports. Not only was he heading towards a flying tin can of death, but airport security was really screwing him over right now.

"Sir, we're going to need you to empty your pockets."

This could not be happening.

This could not be happening.

"Dean?" Cas spoke from behind him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

Fuck.

"Can I just- I need to put something in my hand luggage. Can I do that? Please?" Dean begged the man in the blue uniform.

He didn't really expect it to work, so he wasn't really surprised when the guard shook his head. "Sir, we need you to empty your pockets, or we're going to have to escort you from the premises."

"Dean, what's going on?" Asked Cas, completely perplexed.

God fucking dammit. This was not how Dean had wanted to do things. He had it all planned out, too. A romantic week in Paris, a candlelit dinner, the Eiffel fucking Tower. It was freaking perfect, and Cas would have ate that shit up.

Dean ran his hands over his face in frustration.

Sighing, he turned to Cas, ignoring the disgruntled looks from the crowd around them, as well as the security guard tightening his grip on his radio.

He took Cas' hands into his own, fixing him with a soulful gaze.

"Just so you know - this isn't how I wanted to do this."

Without preamble, Dean took a step back, falling onto one knee, shooting the security guard a pointed glare, who was now slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

He dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out the box, earning a few gasps from the people around them. Cas, though, just stared at him in awe.

"I- I've had this for a long time, and I've been saving it for the right time." He huffed a laugh at the irony. "Apparently the right time is in the airport security line - who knew, huh?"

God he was so nervous. His hands were shaking, his voice strained.

"Castiel Novak," Dean said, fixing his most sincere expression on his face. "I love you so much. You're my best friend, my soul mate, and the love of my life, and there is nothing in this world I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you."

He fumbled with the box a little, until it opened with a soft click.

"Marry me?"

He could hear a few choked sobs from the crowd, one lady practically bawling into her husband's chest, but Dean was far too focused on Cas to pay any real attention to them.

Cas stood before him, eyes wide, tear streaks leaking from his eyes - expression of pure bliss.

"Yes," Cas choked. "Yes, Dean. Of course I will marry you."

He practically flew to his feet, struggling to get his quivering hands to do his bidding and place the damn ring on Cas' hand. Cas choked a soft laugh, patiently waiting, hand in Dean's as the crowd around them whooped and cheered.

Finally, the band slid on. It was a simple silver band, nothing fancy - white gold, slightly raised around the middle, but Cas looked at it as though it was the Holy Grail itself.

Leaning forward, Dean pulled his fiancée into him, pushing their lips together, hands running up to his face. Cas' hands sat on his hip, and even through the material of his clothes, Dean could feel the ring resting against his hip. Faces wet, vision blurry, they both parted, grinning like madmen.

He winked at Cas, before turning back to the guard.

"There, I emptied my pockets. Can I move on now?"

The guard let out a soft chuckle, wiping a tear from his eye. "Yes, sir. You and your fiancée can move on now."

In all honesty, despite the setback, it was actually kind of perfect.