Castiel finishes the album that day. It's almost entirely acoustic, so it's not hard. The only song with a little more effort in it is "See You Then," but it's still entirely normal instruments, without the new age remix-esque sound that most pop songs have.
"So," Dean says as they're heading to the door, "want to celebrate?"
"Celebrate how?" Castiel asks.
"Great question," Dean says. "I don't know. Maybe go out for dinner or something?"
Dean finishes speaking just as they open the door to leave, and they're instantly greeted by the paparazzi yelling at them.
"Or maybe we can celebrate by strangling them," Dean mutters.
Castiel bites back a sarcastic remark, just to keep his image up for the public. He reaches down and takes Dean's hand, and they interlace their fingers. Even though Castiel just did it so no one can push them away from each other, his first thought once they've done it is that it's going to get some cute pictures. It's not even because he wants to see the pictures, but just that he knows people aren't going to respond well. Everyone hates Dean. Even a lot of Patriots fans only liked him as a player. He's so glad he's not online to see the aftermath.
They head to the impala, both sliding into their seats as quickly as they can, and then they're off.
"Hotel?" Dean asks. "Take a few minutes to regroup, then maybe go out for dinner?"
"Sounds good," Castiel says. "An end of album celebration. Can't wait."
~~
For such a big hotel room, they don't take up a whole lot of space in it. Their single shared suitcase is neatly packed and leaning against the wall, but otherwise, the room just like it did when they got there the night before.
Dean and Castiel sit down on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to gather themselves before they start making any plans. Part of Castiel just wants to stay here and snuggle, but he's sure they'll be doing a lot of that later, just like they've done a lot of it in previous months. They might as well do something now.
"Want to go look for a restaurant?" Dean asks.
"I actually know a few," Castiel says. He's spent enough time in Los Angeles to have a few favorites. "If you wanna go, I can give you directions."
"Sounds like a plan," Dean replies. "But, before we go, I just have to ask."
"Hmm?" Castiel hums.
"Remember the Grammys?" Dean asks.
Castiel sighs. "Please don't bring that up."
"No, sorry, I was gonna ask about the hotel before you left for the show," Dean explains. "Remember that?"
"I remember you're a horny son of a bitch, if that's what you mean," Castiel says.
"That's exactly what I mean," Dean says with a grin. "And remember that little agreement we made?"
"No?" Castiel says uncertainly.
"Well, you promised you'd go a day without underwear because you were a buzzkill and wouldn't do it then," Dean says. "You think I can cash that in today?"
Castiel just stares at him for a moment in disbelief. "You want to do that now? You're not gonna save it 'til we get home or something, and actually see anything?"
"Nope," Dean says with a smirk. "I think it'll be more fun if you do it today. You game?"
Castiel hesitates, then shrugs. "A deal's a deal."
"Awesome." Dean says with a grin. "Then take 'em off."
Castiel kicks off his sneakers, both of them flopping carelessly on the floor. He pulls his jeans and his boxers off at once, and glances up to see a very satisfied Dean looking at him. Castiel slides his jeans back on, much to Dean's disappointment.
"God, this feels so weird," Castiel remarks.
"But I think it's gonna be a lot of fun," Dean says with a smirk. "Now, time for dinner?"
~~
As soon as they leave the hotel, the paparazzi are back. It's just two of them, but it's annoying nonetheless, and all the random people with phones out isn't helping. Castiel shields his face with his hands, trying to ruin the paparazzi's pictures. They're worthless if they don't get the face.
"Castiel, over here!" one of the paparazzi yells.
Castiel purposely angles his face away from her. Dean puts an arm around him, leading him to the car without him having to look.
"Castiel!" she repeats, more insistently this time. "Look over here!"
Castiel moves his hands a little bit to shield his face more from her than anyone else. At first it seems like it's working, but then someone hits his hands away from his face, and he's too taken aback to do anything before she takes a picture. As soon as he realizes what she's doing, he covers his face again.
"Don't touch him," Dean snaps.
"I need the pictures," she says, seeming completely indifferent. "A girl's gotta eat."
Castiel peeks at her through his fingers, and as she tries to move his hands a second time, Dean smacks her arm away.
"If you touch him again, I will break either your camera or your nose," Dean growls. "Or maybe both, if you piss me off too much. And don't think for a second that I won't follow through, because yours won't be the first nose I've broken."
"That's illegal," she says. "And with all these witnesses, you wouldn't want to do that."
"My brother's a lawyer," Dean says. "I think I'll be fine."
She just looks at him for a moment, judging his sincerity, before saying a reluctant, "Fine." But, just to be a bitch, she puts the camera up for another picture, and Dean flips her off.
"Come on," Dean says quietly, putting an arm around his fiancé and leading him away. "Let's get away from that dick."