They left two days later, the Impala like new, both of them almost reluctant to do so. Despite telling them they were idiots (or idjits, if you went by speech), Bobby hugged them both back before they left.
After a few hours of driving, they realized they were lost when Castiel pointed out the sign marking the border of Nebraska and South Dakota just as they passed it.
"Oh well," Dean sighed. "Just makes the trip longer."
Dean continued driving, taking turns at random, until they came to a bar as the sun went down. He looked up at the sign. "Harvelle's Roadhouse. I wonder if they're got gamblers. More money couldn't hurt, right?" He looked over at Castiel, who shrugged. "I could go for a beer either way. C'mon, babe."
Dean walked into the roadhouse with Castiel right behind him, hand in hand. It wasn't as busy as it looked like outside. There were only a few patrons. Dean led Castiel to the bar, ordering two drinks from the blonde behind the bar with a smile and a wink. He laughed when Cas hit his shoulder and chastised him for flirting when he was right there. "Rude," Castiel shook his head, crossing his arms and refusing the let Dean pry them apart or kiss him. Dean rolled his eyes and thanked the woman- Jo, as she told him with a smile- for the drinks. Castiel took his from Dean with fake anger, looking down at the floor.
"Cas," Dean smiled, leaning close to his partner. "Think I could take those guys?" He gestured with his bottle toward the two biker type men playing pool across the roadhouse.
Castiel looked up and Dean smirked. "Possibly. If you're having a good night."
"Well, I certainly believe I am," Dean replied, leaning in to sneakily press his lips against Castiel's. "You know what? I'm going to try. I'll be back."
***
Castiel watched Dean distractedly, thinking about his story as he leaned back against the bar and nursed his beer. It was weird having alcohol again after Dean had forced him off of it. It felt good, though. He looked down at his feet.
An angry yell distracted him out of his trance. "I didn't cheat you!" Dean shouted, and Castiel looked up at the table his companion had been at, finding him with his hands up in the air and a large man advancing on him.
"Hey!" Castiel shouted without thinking, hurrying over to Dean's side. "Back off. What did he do to you?"
"Your little friend here joked me out of a hundred dollars!"
Castiel turned to look at Dean, who smiled sheepishly. "Not my fault they couldn't see my faking it."
"Faking it?!"
Castiel turned around again, frowning at the man in front of him. "Would you please lower your voice?"
"No! You're fucking kidding me if you think I'll calm down when this guy just duped us!"
"There a problem here, boys?" An older woman walked up, brown hair swinging behind her as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and slung it over her shoulder. She leaned against the pool table.
Castiel turned to her with a sigh. "I can handle this," he said softly. "I've broken them up before, as has Dean."
"I've broken my share in my day as well, Mr. Blue-eyes. How were they 'duped?'"
"Dean here apparently faked his way through the game."
The woman started laughing. "That's no dupe, that's just clever."
The bikers both looked outraged when they started sputtering angrily.
"If you're going to start a fight," she smiled politely, "I'd prefer you hold it outside."
***
"Thank you," Dean smiled at the woman, "a lot."
"It's not a problem. I've been looking for a reason to kick those guys out for weeks. Dicks."
Dean laughed and shook her hand, feeling Castiel's arm loop around his waist as he did so. "Well, I'm glad to help. Got anyone else that needs kicked out?"
The woman laughed and hit Dean's shoulder. "I like you, kid."
"Does that get us a few free ones?"
"Definitely not," she smirked. "But it does get you a longer conversation. Come back to the bar, I'll get you a discount if you talk with me for a while."
Dean looked over his shoulder to Cas, who smiled back at Dean. "Sounds good. Thanks." He grabbed Castiel's hand and walked with him back up to the bar, grin on his face. "You still mad at me?"
"I got over that when I realized you might be hit," Castiel whispered against his ear, making Dean laugh. "Troublemaker."
"That's my middle name." They both took their seats at the bar again. Castiel resumed nursing his own beer while Dean received another from the nice woman who had saved his ass at the pool tables. "So," he started as he lifted the bottle to his lips. He took a swig of the cold beer. "Who owns this place?"
"I do," she replied.
"Harvelle."
"That's my last name," she grinned. "Call me Ellen. Much more... casual."
"Ellen," Dean tested out. "Got it. Any family?"
"Are you flirting with me?" Ellen raised an eyebrow to match her cocky air. Dean heard Castiel snort beside him and kicked his leg softly.
"No, ma'am."
"Don't call me ma'am, boy. Makes me feel old. Yes, I've got family. Jo, that blonde you flirted with earlier is my daughter."
That earned Dean a kick from Castiel.
"Any husband?"
"Back to the flirting," Ellen sighed as she shook her head. Dean laughed. "No, he's out of the picture."
"What happened?"
"Hunting accident. Not gonna talk any further."
Dean nodded, taking a drink in honor of her husband. "Sorry."
"It's okay."
***
Castiel and Dean ended up having a conversation with both Jo and Ellen later on in the night, when both of them were slowly getting drunk and enjoying themselves without exhaustion. The roadhouse emptied not long after their conversations with both of them started, leaving only five of them in the place, the four at the bar and a man- Ash, Castiel later discovered- passed out on a pool table.
As the night continued, Castiel found himself drinking less and Dean drinking more. Castiel hadn't really had much to drink to begin with and had asked Ellen to switch him over to non-alcoholic toward the middle of the night due to the sick feeling in his gut about drinking too much.
He was thankful that he hadn't gotten drunk when, around one am, Dean leaned against him and asked if they could go out to the car for "a little screwing." Castiel had laughed and told Dean to tell the women goodbye, which Dean had happily done along with Castiel, and they left to the car not long after getting the number of Harvelle's Roadhouse from Ellen.
Castiel laid Dean down in the backseat, kissing him lightly once. "Let's go find you a motel," Castiel whispered, smiling down at Dean. "Wash that beer and smoke out of your hair and skin. Does that sound good?"
All Dean did was grin and nod. "I feel sick."
"I'm sure you do."
