Dean and Cas drove for four hours south until Cas declared it too much work for Dean, and demanded they find a hotel for the night.
"I've been in worse shape, you know. Guts ripped out, all that fun stuff. I can handle driving a few hours," Dean said, but Cas silenced him with a look.
"There's still four more hours to go, and you're far too tired to do it today," Cas said, and he even had Dean sit in the car while he went in to pay for their room in a cheap motel.
Dean didn't want to admit it, but as soon as his body fell onto the bed, he realized exactly how tired he was. The next thing he knew, the sun was shining through the window, and he was feeling remarkably better, his arm thrown around Cas' middle.
"Did I sleep all night?" Dean asked Cas, then glanced down at his own body. "And where are my shoes and pants?"
"They looked uncomfortable, so I removed them," Cas said with a yawn before stretching and sitting up. "Are you able to drive?"
"Yes, Cas. Don't worry so much."
"It's what people in love do, Dean."
Dean's pulse increased. He'd never get used to that, and he never wanted to. It should always feel this good.
Cas packed up quickly, and he and Dean were back on the road within minutes, only stopping for greasy breakfast burritos for breakfast and some pizza for lunch. By three, they had rolled into Anaheim, California, and Cas pointed Dean downtown to a hotel.
"Dude…we can't afford this place," Dean said, whistling through his teeth at the impressive building.
"It's just for two nights. I asked Bobby what he thought about coming to this city, and he advised we not stay in a cheap motel, unless we wished to be murdered by humans instead of monsters. He claimed this to be our engagement gift."
"That's damn nice of him. What are we doing here, anyway?" Dean asked.
"The main surprise is tomorrow, but we have plans tonight as well. Let's go see our room," Cas said, and he and Dean parked in the reserved parking for guests, and lugged their duffel bags into the lobby.
Dean's first thought was that he should let Cas book hotels from then on. An unused stone fireplace sat in one corner of the massive room, the gray bricks of its mantle forming a shelf where dozens of books rested, waiting to be read. Comfy, plush chairs decorated the seating area, and a dining hall sat off to one side through double glass doors. He and Cas walked to the front desk.
"Good afternoon," a young woman said in a friendly voice. "How may I help you?"
"Yes, we have a reservation under the names Dean and Cas Smith," Cas said, and Dean was relieved that he had given them a common, if predictable, last name.
"Ah, yes," the woman said with a grin. "Top floor, room 723. Enjoy your stay."
"Thank you," Cas said, and he took the key cards from her gently before loading onto the elevator with Dean.
"What was she smiling so big about?" Dean asked out loud.
"I believe as hostess, her job is to be friendly," Cas said, but Dean wasn't convinced.
The reason became apparent when they noticed the plaque outside their room that read Honeymoon Suite.
"Dammit, Bobby," Dean said under his breath, and he and Cas opened the door to go inside, where any embarrassment toward his father figure evaporated.
The space was huge, made up of four separate rooms. To their left, Dean and Cas could see a sitting area with similar plush couches to the ones in the lobby, and a large television. On their right was the kitchen area, complete with a working stove and full size refrigerator. Dean made a mental note to see if it was stocked.
They progressed further up a small hallway, and were met with a door on the right. Dean opened it and flipped on the light switch to reveal an enormous bathroom with a walk in shower and, on the far end, a lavish stone tub with room enough for four grown men, complete with built in water jets. Dean and Cas backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind them, and continued down to the end of the hall, which opened up into a large room.
"Holy shit," Dean said, and Cas couldn't help but want to agree.
The bedroom was open and peaceful, with a king size bed against one wall and a ceiling fan above it, hanging down from an arched ceiling. An oak dresser sat against the wall opposite of the bed, another television on top of it. Elegant white curtains hung over a window, blocking out much of the light and leaving the room bathed in an ethereal glow. There was a note on the bed, along with a bucket full of ice and a bottle of wine. Dean picked up the note and read it aloud.
"Congratulations on your engagement. If you need anything, please call the front desk. Thank you for choosing us for your special occasion."
"Are you tired?" Cas asked, when Dean ran his hand through his hair.
"No, just…this is perfect. I'm going to owe Bobby a bottle of whiskey for this."
"That sounds reasonable. Get your things ready to go, though. We have plans," Cas said, and he tugged off his shirt to put on a fresh one from his bag. "Wear something comfortable."
"Why? What are we doing?" Dean asked, but he followed suit and dressed in a t-shirt as well, even when Cas didn't answer.
Thirty minutes later, when he pulled into a sandy parking area, Dean began to have his suspicions about what Cas had planned. Dean followed Cas into a sand-washed wooden store, and Cas bought a small container of worms and some frozen squid, and paid a rental fee for two sturdy fishing poles. Cas thanked the cashier, then he and Dean walked through the other side of the store, where Dean saw a long and weathered pier jutting out into the ocean.
Cas took Dean by the hand, and they both walked out onto the pier, all the way to the end, and sat on an old bench that creaked under their combined weight. The ocean surrounded them on three sides, and the sun glinted off of it in the afternoon light.
The only other people on the pier were old fishermen, and one tiny boy, who seemed to have come with his grandfather. Dean managed to teach Cas how to cast, and they were sitting quietly on the bench, hands clasped and poles resting against the frame of the pier, when the little boy came up.
"Hi, I'm Nathan," he said, and settled himself on Dean's right side without further ado.
"Hey, Nathan," Dean grinned down at him, then cast a look over his shoulder to see Nathan's grandfather smiling at them. "You here to help me fish?"
"Yup," Nathan said, his feet swinging as he talked. "Your friend casts funny. Why are you holding his hand?"
"He's, uh-" Dean began.
"'Cause I only ever see my dad hold hands with my mom. Are you two daddies? Where's your baby?"
"We don't have a-"
"You're in love, right? My mommy and daddy are too. It's gross. They kiss and everything. Do you two kiss?"
"Sometimes, yeah-"
"Ew, you get cooties that way," Nathan said. "You got a fish."
Sure enough, Cas' fishing pole was bending over. Cas jumped up, unsure of what to do. Dean leapt up as well and pulled the pole back to set the hook before handing it to Cas to reel in. Cas fought with the contraption, but finally pulled in a hideous fish.
"A stingray! Cool!" Nathan said. "Grandpa, look!"
Nathan's grandfather came over, and eyed the catch.
"Good size, but useless," he said. "Has Nathan been bothering you? Boy's got a mouth on him."
"Not at all," Cas said. "What do I do with this?"
"Throw it back. Nathan, we need to get going. I told your Momma I'd have you back thirty minutes ago."
"Yes, sir," Nathan said, and he followed his grandfather down the pier. "Bye! Oh, wait a second grandpa!"
Nathan shot back up the pier and put one hand on Dean's arm and the other on Cas'. He did a motion with his hands while he chanted a familiar rhyme.
"Circle, circle, dot, dot. Now you've got your cootie shot. Circle, circle, square, square. Now you've got it everywhere! Now you're safe. Bye!"
He ran back toward his grandfather, and Cas squinted his eyes at his arm.
"I don't understand. Did I just get inoculated?"
Dean laughed.
"No, Cas baby. Cooties aren't real, or we'd be covered in them."
Dean and Cas returned to fishing, catching a few more stingrays, and relaxed for a few hours. Cas caught a crab at one point, and though Dean said he should cut it up and use it as bait, Cas instead dropped it as gently as he could back into the water.
"What'd you do that for?" Dean asked. "Crabs catch fish, you know."
"I don't intend to eat what I catch. It seemed cruel to kill something in order to catch a fish for my entertainment, not survival."
"You're never going to stop being an angel, are you?" Dean asked, nudging him with his elbow.
Cas frowned.
"I'm no longer an angel," he said, confused.
"You'll always be one to me," Dean said, and Cas smiled at him.
They passed some more time fishing in silence before the sun dipped low into the sky, and Dean looked at his watch to see it was nearing seven.
"Time to go," Cas said, and Dean stretched to stand.
"I'm starving," Dean said, as he and Cas gathered up the supplies to return to the rental shop.
"That is our next stop," Cas said.
Dean and Cas turned in their things and settled back into the car. Cas lay his head back against the seat, eyes closed, and Dean was momentarily reminded of the horrifying image of him sprawled out in his arms, dead. It caused a pain to shoot through his chest. He didn't want to think of Cas as dead. He'd experienced that enough. Quietly, he reached out and entwined their fingers together, and Cas opened his eyes.
"Is everything okay?" Cas asked worriedly.
"Yeah, Cas baby. Everything is perfect."