It’s not that Castiel regrets saying ‘yes’. He loves his girls very much, and they’re good kids, so they deserve to have a little fun, right? What bothers Castiel above everything else is that he has gotten exactly zero sleep in the last few days and now has to drag his and their luggage down the hall at what has to be the Most (or, at least one of the most) Expensive Hotel on Earth.
While Dean parks the car, Castiel brings up the rear of the caravan trekking through the hall, and the girls both have a power struggle as to who will get to swipe the room key.
“Let me do it!”
“You don’t do it right!”
“I do to!”
“Girls, please,” Castiel finally sets down their bags by the door. “This isn’t going to work with the two of you fighting the whole time.”
“But papa--” Castiel cuts Emma off with a simple raise of his hand.
“We are on vacation, do you understand?” he replies very calmly. “That means that we don’t have to deal with all of the crap we normally have to deal with. We get to take a break from it. Dad’s been working hard, I’ve been working hard; you’ll be in high school in the fall, and you’ll be in middle school. This is a celebration. It’s a reward for the four of us, and it won’t work if the two of you are bickering the whole time.”
While Emma’s eyes roll off to the side, Claire looks down at her feet, dejected.
“Ho, somebody die?”
Rather than answer her dad, Claire goes right to hugging Dean tight around the middle.
“Jesus, Cas,” Dean’s hand lands atop Claire’s head. “You look like you just told ‘em they got two weeks to live.”
“They’re arguing,” is all Cas can say, because that’s all his brain is able to process. He needs sleep and he needs it now. Hell, he needed it the moment he started trying to tie up all the loose ends at work, the ones he had to tie up before he could take this vacation.
“Okay, let’s get pops in the room,” Dean takes the key from Emma and swipes it in the door. The girls waste no time in charging into the room, but Cas takes a second and breathes deeply.
Hands land on his shoulders and he opens his eyes.
Dean is every bit as offensively handsome as he’s ever been. Fatherhood is a wonderful look on him--it’s etched smile lines into his face and softened his edges both inside and out. It’s turned Castiel’s crass goofball of a best friend into his warm, affectionate, dorky partner, whose kisses still make Castiel’s insides go gooey.
Dean rests their foreheads together and they breathe together, just for a few seconds before Claire shouts, “Whoa, bunkbeds!”
Well, that moment was nice while it lasted.
“I get the bottom!” Emma declares, diving onto the mattress just as Dean and Cas come into the room. It’s every bit as decadent as the pictures were on the website. For what they’re paying, Dean has said that there’d better be bedsheets made out of 14k gold thread.
“Hot damn!” Dean claps his hands as he and Cas set down their bags. “This is gonna be good, kids.”
Castiel goes right for the king size bed and flops down face first.
Castiel falls asleep to Claire and Emma chanting, “Disneyland! Disneyland! Disneyland!”
First to fall asleep means that he’s the first to wake.
It’s the first regular, non-holiday Monday morning that Castiel hasn’t had to worry about getting to work since… he can’t even remember. It’s the first time that his girls have ever gotten a non-extended-family vacation during their summer vacation, the first time that it’s been just the four of them goofing off and having fun together.
Claire wakes as Castiel slips out of bed. Up on the top bunk, she seems a little disoriented, like the doesn’t know where she is.
Then it hits her.
“Shut up,” Emma mutters from the bottom bunk, at which Castiel gives her a swift swat on the behind.
“We’re taking a vacation from everything, including your attitude, missy,” he says, but then Dean pipes up with, “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
Castiel walks over to him and gives him a swat too.
Quietly, Castiel and Claire get dressed. The park doesn’t open for another hour, but Castiel and Claire don’t let that stop them from taking a stroll through Downtown Disney. It’s a veritable orgy of opulence, designed to make guests gaze in wonderment in such a way that they don’t realize how much money they’re spending. There are already innumerable guests flooding the security check and entrance to the park. Claire, in her green shorts and pink Cheshire Cat shirt, sticks as close to Castiel as she can. Luckily, the curly “Curious” written on her shirt does not dictate her behavior.
“Let’s get something to eat,” says Castiel. “This place looks good. Those loaves of bread are bigger than you.”
Claire sticks out her tongue, but still holds Castiel’s hand as they weave through the sunscreen-drenched tourists and big wheeled tandem baby strollers.
La Brea Bakery smells like bread. The actual cafe isn’t yet open, but the express window is. The woman behind the counter who takes their order is incredibly patient as Claire flip-flops between the croissant sandwich and the French toast, though the same cannot be said for the people in line behind them.
“I guess we don’t have to have consideration for others here,” says one mother as Castiel and Claire walk away with their food.
“Not for people like you, no,” Castiel replies, and they keep walking until they can find an unoccupied bench.
“What should we do first?” Cas asks as he texts their location to Dean. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been here.”
Claire purses her lips and eyes her French toast with a level of suspicion normally reserved for a murder mystery and decides, “Space Mountain.”
“Oh yeah?” Cas smiles, remembering the last time they’d tried to drag her on the roller coaster. Like Dean, Claire had little to no affinity for being anywhere off the ground back then. However, the older she gets, the more fearless she becomes, while with Dean’s age has only come more reluctance.
“What do you want to go on?” Claire asks.
“I think you, Emma, and dad might have to leave me at Soarin’ over California for a few hours,” Cas replies.
It’s the closest Castiel has ever come to flying, and it’s literally nothing but a giant screen and a system of moving seats.
After about fifteen minutes, Emma and Dean join them, each of them looking about as groggy and grumpy as they had been up in the room. Dean pecks Cas on the cheek and instructs that Emma stay there while he gets a coffee for himself and a croissant sandwich for her.
“What ride do you wanna go on first, Emma?” asks Claire. Thankfully, Dean must have had a talk with her about copping her thirteen-year-old attitude, because she calmly replies, “Haunted Mansion,” and points at her shirt. It’s light purple, with the words from the narration in Haunted Mansion written on silk screen ribbons, curling around the iconic Haunted Mansion mirror logo.
When he returns, Claire asks the same of Dean.
“Star Tours, no contest,” Dean replies, “Me and popsicle both, it looks like.”
And sure enough, today Dean and Cas have both chosen to wear Star Wars t-shirts. Dean’s reads “Best Dad in the Galaxy” in red on a black shirt, though why there’s a white silhouette of Darth Vader beside the sentiment puzzles Castiel beyond comprehension. Meanwhile, Cas’ own shirt looks like something out of the 70s, with Han, Chewbacca, and Luke in the center and the words “I’m a Rebel” in white below them.
“Papa, you have to pick a Disneyland ride,” Claire shoves Cas on the shoulder. “California Adventure is tomorrow.”
“Yeah, papa, a Disneyland ride,” Dean teases, for which Castiel pokes him in the side. “Hey! Hot beverage here.”
“Then I choose Indiana Jones,” Cas says. “Sort of appropriate, given that Harrison Ford is on my shirt.”
“What about you, baby girl?” Dean asks Claire, only to mumble “Traitor,” under his breath when her eyes light up about Space Mountain.
“All right, so it sounds like we got a plan of action for the first part of the day,” says Dean. “Start at Haunted Mansion and work across the park to Space Mountain?”
“You suckers gotta join the cool kids in Tomorrowland,” Claire taunts.
Emma flips her off.
“Hey, now,” Dean pats Claire’s head. “Embrace differences. Not everyone can be as cool as us.”
Emma groans and rests her head on Castiel’s shoulder.
They make it through the security check and through the entrance, making an immediate beeline for Haunted Mansion. It’s early enough that not many people have gotten in line for it yet, thankfully. They weave through the queue, stopping only a few parties short of the door. The gaunt, pale cast member that stands in front of the door holds up a hand and bids they all wait.
Emma folds her arms and leans on the rail behind her.
“What’s up?” Dean asks.
“I should’ve worn my Ghostbusters shirt,” she pouts at the opportunity lost, though smiles when she realizes that she’s sent Dean into the throes of laughter.
“I love you, baby girl,” Dean wraps his arms around her and kisses her on the temple. She’s tall, and probably more or less an inch away from being done growing, but Dean can still easily put his chin atop her head, and though she huffs a sigh, the smile on her face is priceless.
As soon as they’re let inside, Emma and Claire huddle together, while Dean uses the fact that they’re in a large, crowded, very dark room to press himself into Cas’ back.
“Hey, sexy rebel,” Dean grins against Cas’ neck.
“Sir, I don’t know who you’re looking for but please abstain from molesting me in front of this large group of children and strangers.”
“Whaddya say we turn the girls loose after lunch and go break in that fuckin’ cargo barge they call a mattress,” Dean mumbles. “Maybe head down to the spa after?”
“There’s a joke about facials in there that I’m too uncomfortable to make with our children standing two feet away from us,” Cas looks over his shoulder. For some reason, this makes Dean kiss him right on the lips. Castiel pretends not to notice the people around them averting their eyes and turning their children the other way, and doesn’t pay attention to the answer the mother gives to her son who just asked, “Boys can kiss other boys?”
Luckily, Emma and Claire are too buzzed from their excitement to notice.
Castiel insists that Dean sit with Claire and he sit with Emma, because he’s ninety percent sure that, if they sat together, Dean would try to give him a handjob as they rode their buggy through the Haunted Mansion.
Indiana Jones finds Dean and Claire tugging on the ropes that say “don’t pull” and stepping on the diamonds on the stone floor, though the signs specifically warn them not to. The four of them fit in the front seat of one of the explorer vehicles, with Claire of all people behind the non-working wheel.
Star Tours is the longest line they’ve had to wait in so far, but it’s more than worth it to see Dean’s face light up at the detailed interior of the ride, complete with droids, flight times to different star systems and planets, and amazing, albeit fake, machinery.
When they’re in the simulator, Dean hoots like he’s ten years old himself. When the randomizer generates a planet for them to visit, a gang of Wookies greets them.
“Kashyyyk,” Dean shoves Cas on the arm. “We’re on Kashyyyk!”
“Nerd,” Cas hears Emma mumble on the other side of him.
At the entrance to Space Mountain, Dean tries to claim motion sickness from Star Tours.
“It’s a long enough line,” Cas comes up behind him this time and smacks his ass. “You’ll get over it.”
Emma and Claire run through the queue, while Castiel walks Dean like an executioner might walk his prisoner to the gallows.
“I hate this,” says Dean, thankfully out of earshot of the girls.
“It’s not even a real rollercoaster, Dean,” Castiel frowns. “Not a really scary one, anyway. It’s not supposed to be.”
“Still,” Dean mutters, so Castiel loops an arm over his shoulder and leans in.
“Get through this without complaining and we’ll go back to the hotel after lunch,” he promises, “And you get whatever you want. So think about it now, because as soon as we get back, you and I are naked until dinnertime.”
Dean squeaks in the back of his throat, but says nothing. He just nods.
Though he doesn’t complain for the rest of the time, their picture at the end of the ride has Claire and Castiel with their hands in the air, Emma’s strawberry blonde hair billowing behind her, and Dean looking like he’s about to barf.
Needless to say, he does not eat much when they stop at Pizza Port for lunch. In fact, he’s so nauseated that they can’t even go back to the hotel right away, so they take the girls into the Innovations building next door and browse the hall of Iron Man costumes while the girls explore the house of the future downstairs.
As they exit the building, Cas puts up a hand to keep the girls in place, then reaches for his wallet. He pulls out a stack of bills and divides them.
“Forty for you, and forty for you,” he says. “Dad and I are going to go have some alone time.”
“Ew,” says Emma.
“I take ten dollars away next time you sass me, young lady,” Cas warns. “Now, what are the rules?”
“Don’t talk to strangers,” says Claire.
“Then how are we supposed to order food?”
Cas snatches one of the twenty dollar bills out of her hands and waits for Dean to pull out two ten dollar bills from his own wallet. He hands one to Emma and the other to Cas.
“Cell phone on,” Cas instructs her. “Ours are on too. If you need anything, call us.”
Dean checks his watch, “All right, four-thirty. That’s four hours from now. You two are gonna meet us at the Walt and Mickey statue and we’ll get some dinner and plan our night rides. Sound good?”
Claire and Emma nod.
“This is a big responsibility,” Cas tells Emma. “You have to be hyperaware.”
“Keep your head on a swivel,” Dean agrees. “The both of you. If we text you, you answer. If you text us, we answer.”
“Okay, dad!” Emma gives him a face that would have Castiel taking away another ten dollars if he weren’t being dragged toward the park exit by the back of his t-shirt.
“Love you,” Dean calls over his shoulder, but the girls have already disappeared into the crowd. A pang of panic zips through him, but Dean is going faster and faster, so much so that they’re starting to arouse suspicion in the people around them. By the time they get past the security outside the park, they’re running an unspoken race to their room.
Cas is a little winded by the time they get to the elevator.
A lot winded, actually.
Dean leans against the wall, a hand on his hip and a deep flush on his cheeks.
“We’re not that out of shape, are we?” he asks. Castiel tries to answer, but there’s a fire in his lungs.
“Well,” Cas breathes, “It can’t -- be easy -- for the body.”
“Why?” Dean rubs his fingers into his side. “Because the blood can’t decide where to go, my heart or my dick?”
Which of course he says right as a family of six walks by.
“You’re gonna get us kicked out, Cas, why’d you say that?” Dean chastises.
“You said that, genius,” Castiel smacks him on the arm.
“Mm, I don’t think so,” Dean shakes his head. “I woulda remembered that.”
The elevator door opens and Castiel pushes him inside, mashing the ‘close door’ button until they’re alone. He wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and pushes their lips together. Dean’s hands cover the back pockets of his jeans and squeeze.
“God, I’m so fucking horny,” Dean pants as they part. The elevator doors open and Castiel grabs him by the wrist. They fumble with one another against the door (their door, Castiel checked) until Castiel gets the room key out of Dean’s front pocket and swipes them in. Dean laughs as Castiel fumbles with the Do Not Disturb sign once, twice, four times before he gets to pushing Dean down onto their mess of blankets.
Twelve years and Castiel could count on one hand the number of times they’d had sex without worrying whether or not their kids could hear them. That’s why their pants fly off faster than should have been humanly possible. That’s why Castiel was well on his way to being rock hard with only their messy, half-assed groping fueling his fire.
“Fuck me, that feels good,” Dean practically purrs as Castiel slows, spreading his hands over his chest and trailing his lips softly across Dean’s skin. Dean’s voice quickly changes to a whimper, then a soft intake of breath. Four hours at their disposal… Castiel wanted--needed--this to last as long as it could.
His arms start to quake under nothing but his own weight, and when he finally gives in and lands, he knocks the wind out of Dean’s chest.
“Oh, goddammit,” Dean wheezes.
“Sorry,” Cas rolls over. “God, I’m tired. I got up too early.”
“We had kids too early,” Dean shoots back, the both of them catching their breath again. “Holy shit… I gotta rest.”
“Thank god,” Cas sits up and goes to find his pants. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and checks that he has no missed messages. He goes into his alarms and sets a timer for two hours. “Power nap?”
“You’re a fuckin’ genius,” Dean grins and pulls Cas back down beside him. “I love you.”
Cas grabs Dean’s face in both of his hands and says, “I know.”