Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own any of these guys.

A/N: Hi, everyone! Long time, no see! Once again, I apologize for the unacceptably long delay between updates. Between trying to update my latest multi-chapter Destiel story and some real-life health issues that have been bringing me down, I just haven't been able to get a chapter of this one finished in way too long. But finally, after almost five months, here is the next installment!

There will be only two more chapters after this one, which is kind of sad. :( But don't worry - to make up for the long delay between updates, I've made this chapter about three times as long as normal and jam-packed it with plenty of lovely Destiel fluff. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review if you can find the time!

When Dean awoke the next morning, he was pleasantly surprised to see that the sun had already risen high in the sky, shining brightly through the slats of the blinds and painting everything in the room with dizzying waves of light and shadow.

For most of his life the older Winchester had been an exceptionally early riser, always painfully aware that any time he spent asleep was time when he – and by association the people he had sworn to protect – would be the most vulnerable to attack. Because of this, he had spent most of his adult life running on only the minimum amount of sleep required to stay sharp and alert, catching the occasional power nap in the back of the Impala and chugging down enough coffee to drown a fish whenever the exhaustion began to catch up with him. And despite the fact that he had had a permanent home for almost two years now and was no longer in danger of being torn apart by monsters in the middle of the night, he still hadn't completely managed to break that lifelong habit.

He gave a jaw-popping yawn and allowed himself the luxury of waking up slowly, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes before turning over to give Cas – who had been a late riser since the day he became human and would probably sleep until noon if left to his own devices – a kiss good morning.

But to his surprise, Cas wasn't in bed.

A quick survey of the room revealed that he had probably left quite a while ago; the sheets on his side of the bed were completely cold, his blue cotton robe was missing from where he had hung it on the headboard the night before, and his house-shoes were no longer sitting beside the bathroom door.

With a sigh Dean hauled himself up, scratching the stubble on his chin and stretching before he slipped a thin T-shirt over his head and made to go out the door that led into the living room. Cas was most likely watching the news while he fixed himself some cereal or toast with honey – that was what he always did on the rare occasions when he was the first to wake up – and he was hopeful that Cas might not have finished eating yet so he could still join him at the table.

Just before he could turn the knob and find out for himself, though, the door swung open, revealing the man in question. For a moment Castiel looked surprised to see him standing there, but a second later he smiled and leaned forward to press his lips against Dean's, humming with happiness when the green-eyed man wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Good morning, Dean," he said calmly, so relaxed he was practically boneless against Dean's side.

"Mornin' Cas. What're you doing outta bed so early? You usually sleep like the dead until at least ten."

Castiel chuckled at the irony of that phrase and shook his head. "Well, since you've gotten up early and stayed up late to cook every meal we've eaten during this trip, I thought today I might return the favor. I apologize for waiting until almost nine-thirty to come get you," he added as he began leading the way toward the kitchen/dining area. "I had intended to have our breakfast finished by eight, but it took an irritatingly long time to figure out how to find a suitable collection of recipes on The Google."

Dean chuckled quietly to himself but tactfully chose not to correct Castiel's use of the website name. "It's no problem, Cas. Whatever you made, I'm sure it's great."

Castiel actually looked nervous. "I hope so."

Dean took a seat at the little dining table while Cas plated up their food, mentally preparing himself for the fact that this breakfast might be an absolute disaster – after all, this was the same guy who tended to think that you could put anything you wanted into a sandwich together and it would still taste fine; it had taken all of Dean's willpower not to gag the last time he ate his way through two of Cas's "special" sandwiches made with bologna, cottage cheese, honey, orange slices with the peel still on, and pickles. But the ex-angel had really worked hard on this and seemed genuinely scared that Dean wouldn't like it, so he took a deep breath and resolved right then and there to at least praise him for the effort no matter what it might taste like.

Once Cas actually set their dishes down, though, it immediately became clear that there was nothing at all to worry about. Each plate was filled to the brim with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and even a couple of reheated pineapple pancakes from two mornings before. Everything was perfect, neither overcooked nor undercooked, and despite his love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with the spice rack at home, Cas had managed to add just the right amount of salt and pepper to the eggs to bring out their naturally rich flavor without overpowering it. By the time he had finished the first bite Dean was already completely sold.

"This is friggin' amazing, Cas!" he said with an exaggerated hum of pleasure. "Seriously, could you cook like this every morning? Because I'd have absolutely zero problem eating this for the rest of my life."

Castiel's lips parted in a toothy smile. "Thank you, Dean. I'm very happy you like it." He pulled the corner off of a piece of lightly buttered toast and slipped it almost daintily between his lips, chewing thoughtfully and washing it down with a small sip of orange juice before he spoke again. "Dean?"

"Mmm?" the hunter grunted, not able to say anything more coherent around the comical amount of bacon in his mouth.

"I know we didn't have any particular plans for today, and maybe you were just thinking of staying here or on the beach, but would it be alright if we went back to the marina and rented a boat again? I really enjoyed fishing when we went before, and the weather channel said there's supposed to be a storm rolling in this evening that will make swimming and sailing too dangerous tomorrow. And, um… maybe if we have extra time later… you could teach me how to swim?"

By the end of that question he was blushing, obviously still embarrassed about his complete inability to do anything but flail around uselessly in the water, and he ducked his head and refused to meet Dean's gaze as if waiting for some kind of jab or teasing remark.

Dean just reached down and took Castiel's hand, lifting it up between them so he could brush his lips over the knuckles before weaving their fingers together.

"That sounds like a great idea, Cas. What time do you want us to leave?"

"I think I've got another one, Dean!" Castiel shouted as the end of his fishing pole was yanked down toward the water.

"Already?" Dean asked incredulously. "It's been like ten minutes since the last one!"

They'd been out on the water since noon, and it was looking like the weather prediction for tomorrow had been accurate, because there were already several large gray clouds rolling in, blocking out the sun and bringing in a strong breeze that made the waves rougher than they had been two days ago. But in spite of the slightly unfavorable fishing conditions and the fact that it had only been two hours since they set out, Cas had already managed to reel in two red snappers, a goby, and two angelfish, releasing everything immediately after he caught it since they were planning to grill hamburgers and pineapple slices for dinner tonight instead of fish. Dean, on the other hand, had caught nothing but a piece of floating seaweed, and he was beginning to think Cas must still have a little bit of angel-juice left over that made all the fish flock to him – or that his own luck was just incredibly crappy.

"Almost… got it!" Castiel said excitedly, yanking his fishing rod out of the water to reveal yet another fat red snapper dangling off the end.

Dean just rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. "Alright, that's it, you have got to be cheating."

Castiel tilted his head to one side, not understanding at all. "Cheating at what?"

"At fishing!" Dean exclaimed in mock-anger. "Come on, spill it. Did you use a special bait, or put some kind of fish repellant on my hook, or what?

"Nope," Castiel answered breezily, finally catching on to the joke. "You must just suck at this."

Dean let out a bark of surprised laughter, almost dropping his fishing pole into the water before he remembered to pull it back onto the deck and lay it down. "Wow, Cas," he said with a chuckle, ruffling the ex-angel's hair and earning a weak glare for it. "I really am a bad influence on you, huh?"

Castiel smirked at him. "The worst. A total assbutt."

"Yeah, just keep it up," Dean growled in mock-anger. "We'll see how much of an assbutt I am when I push you off the boat."

"You wouldn't dare," Castiel said with an amused snort, effectively ending the conversation as he turned his back to Dean and pulled the hook from the red snapper's lip, tossing it gently back into the water before casting the line out again.

They settled into a comfortable silence again after that, just enjoying each other's company as they sat back-to-back and waited for the occasional nibble on the end of one of their lines. At around three they ate a couple of sandwiches and some chips that Dean had packed for a late lunch, and Cas even had a beer from the cooler, which was pretty uncommon for him. By the time four o'clock rolled around neither of them had caught anything in over an hour and a half (Cas was the clear winner of the "Most Fish Award," with seven compared to Dean's two) so they decided to head back toward shore and call it a day.

Dean started up the boat and turned them back in the general direction of home – they were about thirty minutes away from the beach near the cabin because the fishing was better in deeper water – and Castiel settled back against the bench seat behind the captain's chair, closing his eyes and nodding off within five minutes as the feelings of the wind in his hair and the sea spray on his face soothed him into a light sleep. He looked so peaceful, all the tension gone from his features and his mouth hanging slightly open as he snored, that Dean decided to take them on a slightly longer path back to the cabin and explore the neighboring islands, content to watch his lover sleep for just a little while longer.

This turned out to be an unexpectedly good decision, because within another ten minutes Dean spotted what looked like a small island off in the distance, completely barren of any sign of human habitation. It wasn't anything fancy, just a sandy little islet with a tide pool maybe fifty feet in diameter at the center and some tall rock formations at one end, but it was exactly the kind of place he'd been hoping to find before beginning Cas's swimming lessons.

There was nothing wrong with the beach in front of their cabin, exactly, but the fact that there were always waves crashing against the beach – especially today – would make it harder for Cas to get his bearings and tire him out a lot more quickly than calm water would. Besides which, weather like this could create strong, invisible currents beneath the waves, and Dean shuddered at the thought of what might happen if Castiel managed to get swept up in one of those.

No, if he was going to teach Cas to swim, it needed to be in a quiet, secluded place like this where he was in no danger of being pulled away and drowned by a riptide or knocked into a cluster of rocks by a rogue wave.

With that in mind, Dean turned the bow of the boat toward the little island, drifting close enough that he knew he'd be able to stand up behind it and push it onto the sand before turning the engine off. Castiel stirred almost immediately, blinking quickly and looking around in confusion when he realized their cabin was nowhere in sight.

"Dean? Where are we? I thought we were going back home."

"We were," Dean answered with a shrug as he climbed over the side of the boat and began pushing it into water too shallow for it to drift away. "But then I saw this little island on the way and decided to stop here. You did say you wanted to learn how to swim, right?"

Castiel nodded in understanding, taking off his lifejacket and laying it across the bench seat before clambering down after Dean. Without a word he followed the hunter around the edge of the small tide pool and between the large rock formations, where Dean had spotted a low-ceilinged cave in the rock face just a little bit smaller than their bedroom at the bunker. They set their towels, phones, dry clothes, and the scuba masks Dean had rented just inside the lip of the cave, taking a few minutes to reapply their sunscreen and allow it to soak in before making their way over to the edge of the roughly circular pool of azure blue water.

Dean tested the temperature with one foot before wading out to a waist-high depth, turning around to wait for Cas to join him. The ex-angel walked forward and then hesitated, dipping his toe into the water as he had seen Dean do before backing up a half-step and looking at the five foot gap between them like it was five miles wide. His body shuddered from head to toe and he shook his head, backing up another step like the water was going to reach out and bite him.

"Dean, I… I don't think I can," he choked out, his gaze darting between Dean's face and the edge of the sand. "I'm sorry, I don't know why, but… I'm very afraid."

Dean wasn't fazed in the least, having expected a reaction like this after how badly Cas's first experience with water had turned out. Without a word he made his way back up to the sand, shaking some of the water off of his arms before wrapping one of them around Castiel's shoulders and pulling him into a gentle embrace.

"It's okay Cas, you've got nothing to apologize for. I know it's my fault the water freaks you out – and don't deny it, it's the truth," he cut in when the ex-angel opened his mouth to protest. "If you don't wanna learn to swim today that's okay, Sam and I can teach you some other time – he's an even better swimmer than I am, to be honest. But I promise you, you're one-hundred percent safe out here. This pool isn't very deep near the edge, which is where we'll be, and I'll be right next to you the entire time. I swear I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Castiel swallowed hard, still trembling ever so slightly as he looked out at the deep blue water, and then nodded and gave Dean's hand a squeeze. "Yes. I want to learn to swim. Will you teach me?"

"You betcha," Dean said with a proud grin as he took Castiel's hand in his. "Just follow me, okay? We'll take it slow."

"Okay," Castiel sighed, taking a deep, shaky breath before following the hunter out into the water.

Castiel had spent the better part of three hours in the shallow end of the tide pool, paying close attention to every piece of advice Dean had to offer about moving his body through the water under its own power. By the time he finally pulled himself onto the shore and plopped down on his beach towel to watch Dean continue splashing and diving and frolicking in the water, the sun had begun to creep closer to the horizon line, casting everything beneath it in shades of glittering gold.

The lesson had gone much better than Castiel had expected, which made him very happy. Dean was very patient, never rushing him or trying to trick him into swimming on his own by paddling away to a place where Cas couldn't reach him. After the first half-hour or so Castiel had gotten the basics of floating and dog-paddling, and over the next couple of hours Dean taught him how to do a basic front- and back-stroke, how to tread water for short periods of time when the water was more than head-high, and how to dive to the bottom of one of the deeper areas of the pool and kick his way back to the surface if he started to run out of air. He certainly wasn't going to win any awards for speed or form, but for the very first time since he had become human he finally felt like he could at least swim well enough to pull himself to shore if he ever found himself falling into a lake or river on a hunt, and that was more of a relief than he could have imagined.

With a contented sigh he lay back on his towel and spread his limbs like a starfish, letting the hot sun dry the droplets of water on his skin and basking in the warm glow that seemed to perfectly mirror the one he was feeling inside. These were the sorts of moments that made him question how he had ever thought of the Earth and the creatures who inhabited it, particularly humans, as anything less than exquisite. He had truly been been an arrogant fool back then, completely blind to the beauty of his Father's greatest creations, because nothing in his entire existence could compare with the peace he had found here on Earth, living as a human beside the nearly godlike man called Dean Win –

SPLAT!

Castiel shot upright with a gasp, his musings interrupted by the feeling of something wet and slimy landing on his exposed stomach. With a sense of revulsion he peeled the sticky, rancid-smelling piece of brownish seaweed off of his skin, tossing it onto the sand with a huff before fixing Dean with the fiercest glare he could muster. "Maybe 'godlike' was the wrong choice of word," he thought as Dean took one look at his face and began cackling like his anger was comical. "'Hellish' seems more appropriate at the moment."

"Hey, Cas, c'mere," the hunter called. When Cas didn't move to obey he frowned, seeming to realize he might actually have screwed up. "Cas?"

"I was deep in thought and trying to relax, Dean," Castiel said icily. "And that was an extremely unpleasant way of trying to get my attention."

"Aw, come on, Cas, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were over there meditating, I was just trying to mess with you a little. Please don't be mad."

Castiel sighed, still not completely mollified. "What did you need me for, Dean?"

Dean's expression brightened immediately, and he made a beckoning motion with his hand again. "I found something in this pool that I think you'll really like. Come check it out!"

The excitement on the hunter's face finally washed away the last trace of Castiel's annoyance, and he gave a small smile and began wading out into the water, swimming over to Dean's side once the water got too deep to stand. As soon as he got close enough Dean took his hand, giving him a smile so sincere that Cas knew whatever Dean was about to show him would truly be worth seeing.

"Hold your breath," Dean told him, and as soon as he had taken the biggest gulp of air he could the hunter dove under the surface, keeping hold of Castiel's hand and using his other hand to cover the angel's eyes as he guided them both to the bottom of the twenty-foot pool. It took them only a few seconds, and when Dean let go of his hand and uncovered his eyes Castiel nearly gasped in surprise before he remembered that he was underwater and that would not very end well.

Lying across the sandy floor of the tide pool, in a beautiful array of colors ranging from deep red to purple to mint green to orange, was a collection of conical seashells, bits of fresh green seaweed, and a few small starfish, all painstakingly arranged so that they spelled out the words "Olani hoath ol, Castiel."

Castiel could do nothing but stare at it in shock for several seconds, blinking rapidly as if the lovely words would disappear in an instant and his mouth hanging agape when they stayed exactly where they were, as brilliant as a neon sign, every single time.

When he finally had to kick back to the surface for air, he found Dean already there waiting for him, and before he could open his mouth to speak Castiel had leapt at him, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck as his parted lips sought out the hunter's in a desperate need to express exactly how strongly he shared the sentiment. Dean clutched him tight and returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm and Castiel wove his fingers through the sopping wet spikes of brown hair, pulling him close so he could lay their foreheads together and just breathe in the warm, comforting, slightly musky scent that had always been uniquely Dean.

"I love you, Cas," Dean said, gently kissing the thick, dark curls at the crown of Castiel's head. "I know I don't say that nearly often enough, but I do. I just wanted to make sure that if you don't remember anything else about this trip, you remember that."

Castiel huffed in feigned indignation. "I have never once forgotten that, Dean." And then with a tremble of overwhelming emotion in his voice, he leaned forward and whispered, "Od olani hoath ol, In Monons."

Translations:

Dean: Olani hoath ol, Castiel = I love you, Castiel

Castiel: Od olani hoath ol = And I love you, My Heart

A/N: All Enochian words were taken from internet databases and dictionaries. I am not (and will not claim to be) fluent in the Enochian language - because honestly, pretty as it is, it's just too freaking difficult to learn. XD