"This holiday is ridiculous, Dean." Castiel muttered, sitting on the edge of a hotel bed, looking immensely displeased. The Santa hat Sam had bought him slipped over one crystal blue eye. He pushed it back up.
"It's Christmas, Cas," Dean sighed, looking at the angel with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
"Jesus Christ was not born on the twenty fifth of December. I was there. And what does giving gifts have to do with anything?" Castiel asked, ever inquisitive.
"Look, Cas," Dean began, knowing any answer he gave him wouldn't be sufficient, "We're doing this for Sam. He's always complaining that we never got to have a proper Christmas, and I know this probably won't come close, but I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can."
Castiel sighed. "What would you like me to do?" he asked, standing up and adjusting the ridiculous hat. Sam Winchester was his friend. He would do what he could to help, despite his confusion about the holiday.
"Help me with the tree, for starters," Dean suggested, "And no using your 'Angel Mojo.' You get started on stringing the lights on the tree and I'll work on decorating the rest of the room." He handed Cas a string of multicoloured lights and directed him to the evergreen tree in the corner.
He had picked out the tree earlier, and had to smuggle it through the window. He somehow doubted the staff would be very happy if they knew he was setting up a tree inside their motel.
Dean set to work decorating the rest of the room. He put up little Christmas-y knick knacks on the bedside tables, and hung red and white lights and tinsel anywhere he could think of.
"Dean, I think I'm doing it wrong." Castiel said.
Dean turned and looked at Cas. He tried to hold in his laughter, but it was useless. In his attempt to get the lights on the tree, he had somehow ended up becoming entangled in them himself.
"I think I need some help." Cas admitted.
Dean grinned, shaking his head in amusement as he walked over to the angel. He looked him up and down, assessing the situation. Not only was he completely wrapped in the lights, the lights themselves were knotted and tangled into themselves.
"How did you manage this?" Dean asked, laughing affectionately.
Cas shrugged - or what passed as a shrug with his arms completely bound to him by the lights, a simple lift of his shoulders - and smiled sheepishly. "I don't know. The whole process was very confusing."
"Not as confusing as undoing this mess is going to be." Dean chuckled.
He first began the search for the beginning of the strand of lights. After he found that, he began unwinding, looping, and untangling.
When he had untangled the lights from Cas' feet to halfway up his chest, he paused.
"What's wrong, Dean?" Cas asked. "Can't you get it undone?"
Dean looked at him and smirked. "Sure I can get it undone." he said, holding the untangled end of the lights in his hand. He wrapped the lights around his hand a few times and tugged on them lightly, pulling Cas toward him.
"What are you doing, Dean? I don't see how this will help get the lights untangled. Is this a customary Christmas tradi-"
Castiel's questions were silenced by Dean's lips on his. It made talking difficult and, quite frankly, undesirable.
Dean brushed the Santa hat off Cas' head and ran his fingers through the soft, dark brown hair. His teeth came down gently on Cas' lower lip. Cas let out a sigh and his lips parted. Dean took the opportunity to explore the rest of Castiel's mouth.
He trailed kisses down from Cas' mouth to his neck, to the indent above his collar bone, and back up again.
"Cas," he whispered.
That's when Dean jolted awake from the dream. And what a dream it was. He sat up, trying to commit every detail to memory, then sighed longingly.
"Hello, Dean." The familiar, rough voice greeted.
Castiel sat, with the usual closeness, next to Dean on the motel bed.
"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Cas asked.
"I- uhm- really? That's -uh- interesting." Dean stuttered.
Cas was wearing the Santa hat that Sam had bought him, the same one Dean had brushed off in his dream.
The angel's eyes lifted upward to the headboard of the bed where there was a piece of mistletoe hanging.
"I'm not expert on your human customs, but..." Cas trailed off, looking up at the mistletoe and then back at Dean. He leaned in fractionally to gauge Dean's reaction.
Dean grinned and practically fell toward Cas. As he had in his dream, he brushed the hat off and ran his hands through Castiel's hair, which was just as soft as he had imagined.