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“Yeah,” Sloane said, voice hoarse.

Dean stroked the porous substance, frowning. “Wood?”

Sloane took a deep breath. “Driftwood. From outside the Fort.”

Dean looked up, eyes wide. “What?”

Sloane gave him a half-smile. “I’ve been talking to the guy who makes this sort of thing. Apparently, he’s big on making his pieces out of stuff someone can find. I had to find someone in Arizona who found a hunk of copper and sent some of it to the creator. I sent him the driftwood after searching the beach for good pieces. And he actually had some opal he’d found on his own, though I don’t know how he did that.”

Dean stared at him and then down at the ring. His fingers slid over it, which was, of course, sized perfectly for him. In a flash, he understood exactly what Sloane had done.

“The past,” Dean murmured, stroking the copper.

“The present.” This time, he touched the driftwood, pale and beautiful.

“And the future,” he said, touching the beautiful white-blue meant to represent love.

All tied in one place, at one time, and presented as a gift.

“Oh, Sloane,” Dean whispered, throat squeezing ferociously. “It’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

And oh, how he sounded like a little boy then, and it made Dean’s heart ache. Here was a gift worth something he couldn’t even begin to calculate. The effort, thought, and intent behind it blew his mind, and Dean could only nod vigorously, sniffling as he shoved the ring onto his right ring finger.

“I love it,” Dean croaked.

Then, he was flinging himself forward and wrapping his arms around Sloane’s neck, squeezing him tight. His eyes stung with tears that threatened, and he didn’t care that he’d given a half-sob as he held onto Sloane. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him, and he loved everything about it.

“God, thank you,” Dean whispered, giving another squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Sloane said back.

Dean looked over his shoulder at the clock and saw it was a few minutes past midnight. He gave a watery chuckle, pulling back to kiss Sloane gently.

Sloane snorted. “I thought he wasn’t going to get it done on time. I sent him the wood a few weeks ago, and he swore up and down that was all he needed to finish it. Had to keep following up, probably drove the fucker nuts. Then it was in the mail, but I had to send it to a PO box in town because it was quicker than having it sent here.”

Dean hesitated. “Wait...that’swhy you’ve been on your phone so much lately?”

Sloane winced. “I haven’t exactly been subtle, I know.”

Dean stared at him and then let loose with a sharp bark of laughter. “Oh, Jesus. Oh, God. I’m an idiot, a goddamn moron.”

Sloane stared up at him, bewildered. “What?”

Dean sighed, slumping to sit in front of Sloane. “Forgive me?”

Sloane cocked his head, eyes widening a few seconds later. “Did you think I had a mistress?”

Dean groaned. “No! I knew no matter what, you would never cheat on me. But I saw you on the phone all the time, being all secretive. And some part of my brain, it just remembered?—”

“Remembered that before all this, I was only into women,” Sloane growled.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted, hanging his head. “And I got worried. I never got far enough to think you weredoinganything. But every time I saw your phone out, my heart sank. I knew I was being stupid and look at this.” He held up the ring, amazed at how perfect and beautiful it was. “This just proves how stupid I’ve been. I’m so sorry, Sloane. I should have never been worried.”

Sloane’s frown softened, and he reached out, taking Dean’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “Not even I could blame you for being worried, Dean. I’m sure there’s plenty of people who know about...how we were before, and that I was straight, and now I’m...less straight.”

“That’s,” Dean began, voice pained, “not a reason for anyone to doubt you. Most of all, me.”