So I started writing this before the season 9 mid-finale. Afterwards, I continued writing it under the cheerful delusion that said mid-finale never occurred. Thank you and good night.
Also, I'm thinking of writing a companion to this depicting the events of Christmas morning the next day. Let me know what y'all think.
Dean Winchester balanced easily on a precariously placed ladder in the bunker library. A quiet, hummed version of deck the halls could be heard from where the man stood, fastening Christmas lights above the archway. Dean rummaged in his pocket until he found a small, prickly tuft of mistletoe. With an inward chuckle, Dean fastened the bit of greenery directly above the archway, below the Christmas lights. Dean heard the front door creak open and slam shut before his brother's voice came wandering down the passage.
"Hey Dean?"
"Yep," Dean replied. He hopped off the ladder and trod through the hallway to meet his brother in the main room.
Sam was looking pretty good, considering the recent bodily eviction of a certain angel. Sam had been repaired sufficiently enough to keep him alive after Ezekiel left, but just barely. Healing the rest of the way had been pretty rough on both of the Winchesters, but they'd made it- like they always did. And now Sam was, honestly, feeling better than he had in a long time. He was beginning to forgive his brother, too. After all, if anyone knew a few things about unhealthy codependence and the lengths one would go to protect that vital other half, it was a Winchester.
Dean offered his brother a smile, which Sam returned.
"I got you some food," Sam said. Dean eagerly received a brown paper bag, opening it slightly to release a whiff of fast-food bliss.
"You're a good brother, Sammy," Dean declared. Sam snorted before giving Dean a quick, half-smile.
"So are you," he said. Sam, armed with another paper bag (that most definitely did not hold the same greasy goodness that Dean's did) meandered off down the hallway toward his room.
"You put up a tree?" Sam called, disapprovingly, from somewhere on his way through the library.
"Christmas is tomorrow!" Dean retorted. He heard retreating grumbling, and smiled to himself.
Dean found his way to the kitchen in search of ketchup which, shockingly, had not been included in the bag. He found Kevin sitting at the kitchen table, staring blearily at a cup of coffee.
"Hey there, sunshine," Dean said. Kevin scowled tiredly at him.
"Lay off. I am running on 0 sleep," Kevin growled. Dean pursed his lips as he applied a generous quantity of ketchup to his burger.
"Bad dreams?" Dean asked, glancing at the boy.
Kevin shrugged and slumped in his chair to rest his head on folded arms. Dean set his plate quietly on the table and gave Kevin's hair an affectionate ruffle. The prophet mumbled something, likely unkind.
Castiel wandered into the kitchen carrying a newspaper, his damp, drooping hair suggesting a recent shower.
"Greetings," he said. Kevin grunted something into the table, and Dean smiled.
"Hey, Cas," Dean said. Castiel smiled back and pulled out a chair beside Dean.
Unlike Sam, the ex-angel had been quick to forgive. Castiel had made a few too many major errors in judgment to really hold any grudge against Dean's. Castiel had made a permanent move to the bunker while Sam was getting better. And having him around; pleased to help, happy to be there, harboring no ill feelings or blame toward Dean, had made things easier.
The fifth member of the bunker party could be heard emerging from her room; loudly and ungracefully as she was wont to do. Charlie appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing something that looked suspiciously like a dress version of an old police call box. She had arrived about a week ago from the portal to Oz, inexplicably located within the Men of Letters bunker, to spend the holidays at home.
"Morning, bitches," she greeted cheerfully.
Kevin continued grumbling into his arms, while Dean gave a brief wave, mouth too preoccupied with his burger to say anything. Castiel was the only one to give a remotely respectable response, smiling at Charlie and returning the greeting. Charlie had soon seated herself and a bowl of cereal beside Castiel at the table.
Charlie had taken an instant liking to Castiel; one that the previous angel returned. The genius-nerd had decided it her public duty to educate Castiel in virtually all popular culture, after one too many utterances of "I don't understand that reference."
"It was central to the characters that Mal and Inara didn't get together in the show," Charlie explained patiently to an especially confused looking Castiel.
"They obviously cared deeply for one another and shared mutual romantic emotions," Castiel said, brow furrowing. "Why did they not simply admit their feelings?"
Charlie was about to say that it probably had something to do with the untimely cancellation by the dark entity Fox network, when Dean chimed in.
"Mal was too proud to admit that he cared that much about one person," Dean said, seemingly engrossed in the ingredient list on Charlie's cereal box. "Especially romantically. His character would have become completely vulnerable. And Inara was too caught up in duty and social standing to admit anything before Mal did."
Dean glanced away from the cereal box to meet Castiel's thoughtful gaze and Charlie's open-mouthed expression. Dean shrugged.
"I watched it," he said, crumpling his burger wrapper and tossing it into the paper bag.
"Cas, I could use a hand decorating the tree," Dean continued, locking eyes with the ex-angel. With a solemn nod, Castiel stood and followed Dean from the room.
Charlie spent the next several moments broodingly arranging soggy cheerios into something that almost resembled the Star Trek insignia, while Kevin returned to his arm cushion.
"We have really got to get those two to bang," Charlie stated suddenly. Kevin moved his head to rest his chin on his arms.
"Seconded," he replied.
"Dean has a thing for Spock. We were talking about gender exceptions- don't you look at me like that, Tran! Maybe if we could get Castiel into a really kinky Starfleet uniform, then-"
"Charlie," Sam said, entering the kitchen. His facial expression and tone of voice suggested that he had definitely heard the last few words of Charlie's plan.
"We're trying to think of scenarios that would end in a certain hunter and a certain previous angel under the mistletoe," Charlie explained, raising her eyebrows.
Sam chuckled. He sat heavily at the place Dean had recently abandoned, and began picking through his salad cup.
"You think I haven't tried?" He asked through a mouthful of lettuce. "Dean is too obstinate, and Castiel is too oblivious for matchmaking. Believe me."
Charlie narrowed her eyes and drummed the table with her fingertips. Her cheerios had long since abandoned shape to sink despondently below milk-surface. Kevin propped his chin up on his hand and sipped thoughtfully at his coffee.
"I'd be willing to bet money that something happened between those two in Purgatory," Sam continued, taking another moose-sized bite of his salad. "I didn't think it was possible, but after they got back there seemed to be even more sexual tension. The eye-fucking was almost unbearable."
Sam looked at Charlie, whose eyes were glimmering with a worrisome determination.
"Well, genius-girl," Sam said after a moment, "Got any bright ideas?"
Kevin raised his eyebrows expectantly, and Charlie smiled.
"Just a few."
"The star goes at the top of the tree," Dean said stubbornly. He was holding the ladder while Castiel balanced on the topmost rung, gravely regarding the star ornament he held.
"I have heard that it is traditional to put an angel atop the Christmas tree," Castiel said.
"Well you're the closest thing we have. Want to sit on top?" Dean asked wryly. Castiel quietly secured the star on the tree. Kevin wandered into the room to turn an appraising eye on the tree.
"What do you think?" Dean asked, grinning. "Looks pretty sweet, right? Mind you, I have a little bit of a bias toward tinsel-"
"What is love?" Kevin said loudly, turning his attention to Dean.
"Uh…" Dean replied. Castiel tilted his head slightly at the question.
"What is right and what is wrong?" Kevin continued earnestly.
"Kevin," Dean began weakly.
"I don't know! What can I do? What else can I say?"
"And it just became the Haddaway song," Dean said, furrowing his brow. "You okay, man?"
Kevin stared at Dean, bright faced, for several seconds, before turning to scurry away toward the kitchen.
"He's a weird kid," Dean informed Castiel, who had finished descending the ladder.
"Prophets often experience heightened levels of stress and sub sequential anxiety disorders caused by their celestial abilities and responsibilities," Castiel agreed.
Sam found Dean and Castiel in the kitchen, concocting something that smelled very much like cookies. Sam shot one last, reluctant look behind him at Charlie, who was huddling on the other side of the doorway. She grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.
Sam sighed heavily, attracting the attention of the other men in the room.
"Hey there, little brother," Dean said brightly. "In the mood to make some cookies?"
Sam frowned and took on a look of selfless determination.
"Dean, what would you say if I was gay?" Sam asked, frown deepening.
Dean stared at his brother silently. Castiel raised his eyebrows.
"Uh…" Dean said after an uncomfortably long silence, "I mean, I'd say the usual stuff. You're in to whatever you're in to, right? What about all your old girlfriends, though?"
"You're cool with it?" Sam continued, ploughing onward with no regard to Dean's point. "Man on man action? That's fine with you? It's not too, I dunno, girly?"
Dean tasted a spoon of uncooked dough before handing it to Castiel to do the same.
"Well I don't want you to tell me any of the gory details," Dean said. "But, like I said, you're in to whatever you're in to. And, I mean, dude on dude- isn't that about as manly as it gets? No girls involved; you can't really call that girly."
Sam seemed excited.
"So homosexuality, that's fine? No problem?"
"No problem," Dean agreed. Sam smiled. He stood before his brother for several more silent moments as Dean worked with the cookie dough.
"So…is there, uh, anything you want to say?" Sam eventually prompted. Dean glanced at his brother and raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, use a condom."
Dean clapped his brother on the back in a supportive manner. Sam opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, before making a hasty retreat from the kitchen. He shot Charlie one of his better bitch-faces on his way out. She frowned.
"So close," she muttered.
Dean and Castiel sat beside one another on the couch in front of the television, quietly watching some Christmas special and sipping hot beverages. Charlie plodded into the room to seat herself between the men on the couch.
"Mal and Inara should have been together, right?" she asked. Dean eyed her strangely.
"Random, but yeah. They definitely should have been together," he said.
"They were made for one another," Castiel added.
"And it just made you furious that they weren't together, right?" Charlie continued passionately.
Dean shrugged and Castiel nodded. Charlie's eyes bulged.
"It happens in real life too," she said bluntly. The men stared silently at her.
"When you know two people who should obviously be together, but they aren't," she continued relentlessly.
Dean narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.
"Don't Mal and Inara remind you of someone?" Charlie said, widening her eyes pointedly at each man.
Dean pursed his lips.
"I dunno, Charlie, I sort of always pictured Sammy as more of a Kaylee character," he mused. "What do you think, Cas?"
Charlie's eyes were dangerously close to popping out of her sockets from strain. She stood silently and exited the room.
"Is there a gas leak in this place or something? Everyone's acting so weird," Dean complained.
Castiel shrugged.
Upon entering the kitchen later that evening, Dean found his brother sitting at the table idly flipping through a newspaper.
"I'm not gay," he informed Dean in an offhand manner, not bothering to look up from his reading.
"I know," Dean replied, glancing over from the refrigerator. "I practically raised you, Sammy- you think I'd miss something like that?"
Sam snorted.
"So what was all that about then?" Dean asked, seating himself and a glass of milk across from his brother.
"Oh, just a little experiment," Sam said, shrugging. Dean grunted.
"Also, Charlie was just in here. She wants everyone to hang their stockings in the library together in about ten minutes. Old family tradition or something."
Dean sighed and stood, milk in hand.
"I'm headed there anyway. See you in a couple, man."
Sam nodded.
Castiel had apparently gotten a similar notice from somewhere in the bunker, Dean deduced, seeing the man standing in the doorway to the library, looking mildly confused. He smiled when he saw the hunter.
"Charlie requests we hang stockings together," Castiel informed Dean. Dean nodded. He walked over to stand beside the ex-angel, and began looking disinterestedly about the room. His eyes eventually found their way to the mistletoe that hung directly above them. A sly smile spread across his face.
"Hey, Cas, take a look up there," Dean said. Cas glanced up to regard the sprig with a curious expression.
"Genus Viscum," Castiel informed him. "A largely parasitic shrub that originated in Europe. The Celts used it as an antidote for poison."
"You know what we use it for, don't you?" Dean asked with a smirk.
Castiel cast his unearthly blue gaze on Dean, and took on a superior look.
"Christian Christmas marked the first known use of mistletoe for sentimental purposes," Castiel said in a low voice.
"Is that so?" Dean asked, smiling and sidling closer to the ex-angel.
"Mmm," Castiel murmured, before closing the gap between them with a kiss.
Dean didn't seem to know exactly what to do with his hands at first, but quickly seemed to settle on Castiel's hips as a resting spot. Castiel smiled against Dean's lips and wrapped his arms around the hunter's neck. What had begun as a tentative, questioning meeting of lips, quickly evolved to a manic slide of skin on skin; tongues thrusting against one another, tracing lips, shadowing teeth. Dean pushed Castiel against the door frame, pressed himself forward until all of their features meshed like cogs and one could feel the other's breath and quickened heartbeat. Dean removed himself from Castiel's mouth (not without complaint from the latter) to leave a trail of kisses down his jawline and nibble at his neck. Castiel craned his head back to better facilitate Dean's actions, eyes half lidded and glazed. It was about that time that he noticed their audience.
Kevin, Sam, and Charlie stood within the hallway to the library, all three wide eyed and seemingly incapable of movement. Castiel nudged Dean, who interpreted the movement as an expression of pleasure, and doubled his neck-ravishing efforts.
"Dean," Castiel said warningly. Dean broke away from his ex-angel to see the family arrayed before them.
"Oh," he said.
Charlie, the first to overcome her shock, gave a cry of triumph.
"Yes!" she yelled.
Dean and Castiel narrowed their eyes in near perfect unison. Dean apparently found no overwhelming reason to remove himself from the ex-angel, choosing instead to remain draped around him, hands clasped firmly on his upper thighs, one leg resting between Castiel's.
"What?" Dean asked, irritation heavy in his voice.
"We," Charlie made an exaggerated hand motion to include Sam, Kevin, and herself, "Got you two together!"
Dean looked at the trio strangely.
"Uh," Dean began.
"No need to thank us!" Charlie trilled, grinning ear to ear. "We'll leave you guys to do your, er, thing!"
She turned on her heel and pranced away down the hallway like a demented reindeer. Kevin followed closely after her, unwilling to be the last to leave. Sam lingered for a moment, caught his brother's eye and smiled.
"It's about time, guys." Sam paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I know what you think, Dean-but you're wrong. You deserve to be happy too."
With that, Sam turned to follow his match-making partners down the hall, likely into the kitchen for a round of celebratory eggnog.
Dean stared after his brother, letting his words sink in. Castiel's hands gently tugged Dean's face into that blue-eyed gaze.
"You do, Dean," he said quietly, "Deserve to be happy,"
He placed a light kiss on the hunter's lips. Dean smiled and lowered his head to Castiel's shoulder with a sigh. Castiel stroked his hair softly.
"Dean?" Castiel asked after a moment.
"Mmm?" Dean replied.
"Should we tell them that we began romantic relations nearly three weeks ago?"
Dean grinned into Castiel's shoulder. He raised his head to share a long, passionate kiss with the ex-angel.
"Na," he said when they parted. "Let 'em think they did something. Tomorrow's Christmas, after all."