Slashy goodness in the spirit of the season. This one's about Mistletoe, Eggnog, and Everything Else Castiel Missed in the Past Thousand Years.
Had an epic train ride to get to the family, so I indulged and wrote this. Hope you like. Happy Holidays to everyone, and love all around.
Christmas Eve.
Sometimes it was hard to be human.
Especially after being God.
Technically, Castiel wasn't ever really God. He knew that. He'd always known that. Saying so was only hubris fueled by millions of souls he should never have gotten his hands on. Nevertheless, he'd been more powerful than any other living thing on the planet, and in the wake of that power he had done awful things.
Now he was paying his penance - Castiel was mortal. And he relied heavily on the very people he'd betrayed the most. Sam, Dean and Bobby had picked him up at a hospital once he'd remembered who he was, taken him in, clothed him, Cas ate their food, drank their beer, drove Dean's car into a snowbank once (the only saving grace of which being that Cas' stint as getaway driver saved their lives that night), and was a general humanity-ignorant burden.
But even a sullied fallen Angel was not ignorant of the magic of the human experience of Christmas. And Castiel needed magic. He needed... something. And he needed it soon. He was bound and determined to rekindle some simple wonder in himself, and spark that human zest for life. The Holiday season was one for loving and enjoying and being honest and good to the people you loved.
Castiel could prove he was a good man, even if he was never a good Angel.
He could prove that to Dean. And Sam and Bobby.
That's how he ended up sitting on Bobby's living room floor stringing popcorn onto fishing line with along with cranberries and wingnuts. Bobby had looked perplexed briefly by that particular design choice, but ultimately just shrugged and let Cas continue.
The backdoor creaked open and Castiel perked up, peeking over the couch to see who was coming in. Dean glanced over and met his eyes for a split second, and Castiel was caught in their sharp green gaze for a moment. That green was even more vibrant these days, now that he was human and things as simple as color stood out as extraordinary to his mortal senses.
The green of Dean's eyes, especially seemed to daze him sometimes. Like now. Dean was stuck in that stare too, for a moment. But he turned away as quickly as he could manage.
"Hey," Sam greeted cordially.
Dean nodded at him. "Oh God, he's not still doing that, is he?" Dean shook the snow from his coat as he looked across the room, pretending to be seeing Castiel for the first time and leveling an all too familiar glare at him.
"I'm human. I want to do human things." Castiel didn't bother to turn as he spoke to Dean, he simply continued his scrutiny of the crooked evergreen now littered with little glass objects and ribbon, shoelaces and shiny paper and tin foil. They didn't have hardly any ornaments to speak of, so Castiel was making due the best way he knew how - finding pretty things around the house and garage to adorn his first ever Christmas tree.
Dean shook his head like it was all a nuisance, but inside he couldn't help the quirk of pain mixed with affection that surged every time he saw this awkward, newly-human grown man string a strand of popcorn (Sam had taught him that despite Dean warning not to indulge him) onto just the chosen branches before observing his handiwork.
Dean secretly wanted to join him of course, having that lifelong overwhelming desire to be simple and do human things himself. He'd always wanted a normal Christmas with a tree and all. He hadn't had one since his mother died. His father had tried a few times, over the years, but it was never quite the same. It was always a sadly half-hearted attempt at normalcy, John keeping one eye on his rifle even as Dean helped Sammy string the popcorn.
Dean kind of liked that Castiel didn't ask for permission before indulging in this particular tradition. They'd just come home and he'd hauled a tree into the house and set it up all by him self. Dean could picture it in his mind - Castiel figuring out a saw by trial and error, Castiel hauling a tree bigger than himself across the snow, Castiel finagling the tree through the door... Dean had to be impressed, Cas was after all human now.
The Leviathans had left him mostly dead - a bloody, confused husk. And the three of them had taken extra care to keep him alive even as Dean shot sharp comments here and there about how God-Cas would have let them die, almost killed Sam, killed lots of other people... Things had been rocky between them ever since. Now it had been months, Cas was mostly healed, physically at least, and Dean could at least stand to be in the room with him. But the disparaging comments never quite stopped. Dean couldn't forgive the betrayal, the stupidity of the whole thing. The quips were an attempt to cover how much it hurt. But all they did was make it obvious.
And Cas couldn't forgive either. He still longed for the blind trust he'd given Dean in the coming apocalypse and the fight against Lucifer had been reciprocated with the whole Purgatory thing. But more than that, he couldn't forgive himself. And he took every insult and cold word like a well-deserved lashing - even after Sam sat him down and told him he forgave him, told him he understood, really.
It was nice to hear, though it didn't ease the ache in his chest. Bobby seemed to get over it pretty easily, treating Castiel like an out of control teenager more than anything. And Cas couldn't help but be thankful. For all the years he'd done nothing without his Father in mind, he'd never felt more like a son than he did with Bobby Singer griping at him about what a pain in the ass he was.
Despite knowing he should be punished, Castiel considered that he actually had it pretty good. And now it was Christmas. And Castiel resolved to do the thing right, not just for himself but for the rest of Team Free Will. Christmas for humans was something magical... and Castiel was waiting desperately to feel that. He needed to feel that spark of something more powerful, something magical. He was hopeful for it, waiting like a little boy waited for Santa.
It wasn't long before Dean and Bobby were insisting on the introduction of eggnogg into the festivities and Sam was pouring careful cups, shooting Dean an amused No way glance when Dean kept motioning for Sam to keep pouring.
Castiel had taken a few careful sips, tilting his head to the side as he considered the flavor. It was sweet, but it had a familiar alcoholic kick that he'd grown to appreciate. He knocked back the first glass easily, feeling his cheeks grown warm and his mood lighten. He felt kind of... smiley. He thought everything the brothers and Bobby said was worth a smile.
He was half way through his second glass, transfixing Dean with the way he was smiling, all white teeth and rosy cheeks, though of course Cas had no idea of that.
"Hey, go easy on the egg nog, man." Sam laughed at Cas, shooting an amused glance at Dean who shook his head and rolled his eyes, to keep up appearances of irritation at least.
Cas nodded obediently and set the glass down. But the damage was done. He was warm and happy and a little looser than he had been in quite awhile.
They were watching a movie on Bobby's old set, a movie Castiel didn't recognize. It was about Christmas and he could already recognize some of the attributes - the tree, the eggnogg, and then something Sam explained was Mistletoe. A plant that people hung in doorways and such for decoration. Apparently it was custom to kiss someone because of it. The rules of the thing were a bit hazy to Castiel but Sam explained it like this:
"People hang it up, and then if you are standing under it and someone comes by and happens to stand under it at the same time you're supposed to kiss."
"Why?"
"I don't know. Just a tradition. Supposed to be fun, I guess. Spread the love during the season," he added, laughing a little.
Castiel nodded.
They watched more of the movie until the house gave a groan and a distant pop and the power went out. Bobby, being Bobby, had back-up generators for the basic lights, but it didn't help with the TV (which Cas was quite upset about) or the heat.
"Ice weighin' down the wires again," he guessed, getting up from his chair heavily and grabbing a flashlight from the kitchen. "Well, come one Shaq."
"I think that's you," Dean chuckled at Sam.
Sam got up from his chair and followed Bobby, grabbing another flashlight.
Bobby grabbed his shotgun from the corner, cracking it to check for shells then clicking it closed again. He noted the look Dean was giving him and quipped, "What? You think the demons are on a Christmas vacation?" He shook his head and headed out, Sam following behind, shrugging back at Dean and Cas with a smile.
Dean sighed heavily and Cas got up quiet as a mouse and headed to the kitchen. He stopped half way, turning back to Dean, "Would you like more eggnogg?" he offered politely.
"I can get it myself," Dean muttered to spite him, getting out of his chair to do so.
"Very well," Cas added, a tone of defeat in his voice. He leaned back against the doorframe, resting his head back against the wood, closing his eyes.
Hearing the utter dejection in Cas' response, Dean felt bad for being an ass on Christmas Eve. Cas was going above and beyond today to get Dean to like him again, making strange little comments, and offering to do simple things. Dean could see what he was doing, but he was too stubborn to accept the olive branch. But now, looking at him leaning there, so human, Dean was starting to feel guilty. He stood next to him, looking down at his cup as he spoke, "You want another?"
The offer was simple, in fact it was the same offer Cas had just given, and to anyone else it would have seemed like nothing. Oh, walk four feet to the kitchen and refill my glass? Wow, big deal. But to them it was a big deal. Dean hadn't offered Cas any kind words in months.
Cas' eyes snapped open, and he just stood there, staring upward for a moment, as if he didn't know how to answer. Dean was just about to walk away, thinking maybe Cas was sending him the cold shoulder right back. But then, Cas looked down at Dean, his eyes wide and so blue and sparking with something... Dean couldn't quite identify.
Then before Dean knew it Cas took one large step forward and pressed his lips to Dean's.
Dean was still for a moment - it had been a long time since he'd been kissed by anyone. The feel of lips on his own, somebody standing so close - although, not quite close enough - it was kind of nice...
Until he remembered who it was. Then he jerked away.
"Cas, what the Hell are you doing?" Dean growled dangerously, his eyes wide.
Castiel's stomach flipped. He shouldn't have done that... He pointed helplessly up to the mistletoe hanging neatly in the doorway above them. Dean stared up at it shocked, having had no clue it was there. Cas tried to shrug as if this whole thing was no big deal, just part of the tradition. But his reddening cheeks and wide, expressive eyes gave him away.
The two stared at each other for a long, still moment, as if both were completely stuck trying to figure what they should do next.
Then Dean surged forward, knocking Cas into the doorframe, and Cas was sure Dean was going to punch him but felt instead a hand cradle behind his head and lips press into his own.
Dean's body was heavy and warm against his, and Cas was immediately enamored with the feel of that weight against him. Dean's lips pressed to his in an utterly innocent kiss, nothing graphic or wanton about it. No teeth, no tongues, just... soft lips against his own. Like an apology, or something deeper.
After that, Dean didn't have anything mean left to say.
He'd walked away stiffly and silently, getting his eggnogg and Castiel's (which he had handed him without making eye contact) and sat back down in the living room waiting for Sam and Bobby to get back.
The rest of the night Dean was... oddly pleasant. And for the life of him he couldn't quit staring at Cas, in his dark blue sweater that was a bit too long in the sleeves. The color made him look, Dean chuckled to himself to think it, but he looked like an angel. The darkness of the color made his pale skin seem so perfectly ivory. The blue made his eyes seem even bluer. The sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbows showed pale, strong, masculine forearms that Dean had, for the most part, never gotten to observe before.
Castiel was reeling all night. He put the eggnogg down, fearing it was muddling his thoughts and didn't take another sip. His heart squeezed when he felt Dean's eyes on him, but he knew about subtlety now - he didn't look up, or meet his eyes or acknowledge. Not in front of Sam and Bobby.
Hours later Bobby was finally heading upstairs for bed. Sam was soon to follow. He cast a glance over at Cas who was fidgeting with the tree again, and then observed his brother and the way he watched Cas.
Sam laughed to himself as he stood from the couch.
"Turnin' in?" Dean asked.
"Yep." He smirked at his brother, tossing a little bunch of mistletoe at him, "Merry Christmas."
Dean held the little plant between his fingers. Sam... he should have known. Well, he wasn't about to thank him, that wasn't his style. So he shot him an irritated glance before tossing the mistletoe onto the table.
Sam chuckled to himself and headed upstairs, calling over his shoulder, "Night Cas."
Cas turned and gave him a nod before giving his attention to the tree wholly once more.
It became painfully tense in the stuffy, warm living room once both men were acutely aware that they were alone together. Dean was wanting to say something, but as much as he racked his brain he couldn't think of a good icebreaker. And Castiel's entire body was stiffening up from the discomfort of the scrutiny he could literally feel coming from across the room. He kept his back to Dean.
Dean cleared his throat quietly, and got out of his chair. He'd wanted to stay downstairs with Cas, to keep being around him. But he couldn't quite muster a good reason why. And now he was just feeling awkward. Dean stood and Castiel stilled, arms suspended out to a branch where he was rearranging a belt buckle, and he listened desperately to the sound of Dean leaving him.
Instead he heard determined bootsteps coming toward him. He stayed frozen. He heard a rustling above him and saw Dean hanging a little bundle of a green plant he now recognized as mistletoe to a branch on the christmas tree, branch right above Castiel's head.
Castiel looked up at the little green sprig and cocked his head to the side. Dean smiled at him, and when Cas saw it, it nearly took his breath away - the smile was so affectionate, those green eyes so warm.
Cas stood slowly, and Dean didn't back away, so when he rose they were standing centimeters apart.
Dean's voice was soft and genuine, "Merry Christmas Cas."
"Merry Christmas De-"
But he didn't entirely get to reply, because Dean's lips pressed to his in a soft, altogether pretty innocent kiss.
Castiel had never felt lips on his, not while he was human. Not until today, and now he'd felt it twice in one day. The feeling was warm and soft and beautiful. He couldn't have thought of anything better to get for Christmas.
It stirred an excitement, a hunger in him, and he pressed his lips harder to Dean's, asking for something more. Dean chuckled against his lips and Castiel's heart flipped in his chest. He wrapped his arms around the Hunter, hugging him tightly to his chest, and his body buzzed with joy when Dean did the same. Dean kissed the corner of Cas' mouth, then his jawline, then down his neck, chuckling lowly into the angel's skin when Cas would fidget or jerk or lean into him because it tickled or felt good.
Castiel pulled Dean close to his body and his eyes glinted with mischief, "I want to do human things." He smiled at the Hunter.
Dean, hardly believing his ears, smiled back.
Then Castiel pressed their mouths together once again, sinking them into a kiss that smoldered, simmered lowly hinting at something wild burning underneath the gentleness of the thing.
Dean smiled into Castiel's lips, bringing his hands up to tangle a little roughly in his dark hair.
This was going to be a much better Christmas eve than he'd had in quite awhile...
The direction they went next surprised Dean, but oddly pleased him. He found himself holding back, slowing Cas down. They sat on the couch talking quietly, drinking egg nog, letting it warm their insides while the fire in the fireplace warmed their skin. And then, after hours their talking turned to lazy smiles and interlacing fingers as they could barely keep their eyes open.
They fell asleep on the couch tangled up in each other's arms and legs, bodies warm and buzzing from an evening of lazy foreplay and conversation. They got to know each other again, and got to know little tidbits of each other's bodies. Hands snuck under shirts, lips grazed over necks, thighs rubbed against thighs. It was all very high school in Dean's opinion, but it was perfect. He wouldn't change it for anything. Somehow there was no pressure to perform, no expectation to push it further. They were both content to just lay there and fool around in an almost juvenile way until they were tired enough to fall asleep, chest to chest.
Both Dean and Castiel's hearts hadn't been so light in years.
Dean silently prayed for the fortitude to allow himself the happiness of keeping this going, this whatever he had with Cas. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to kiss Cas again by the tree. But now, he was so glad for that momentary lapse in self-control. And he was hopeful that they could continue down this road. Even if they never had sex (maybe not never...). Dean just wanted it to be this way with him, every night, every day - comforting, and calm, and full of lighthearted affection. This was a better present than any material thing. It was the opportunity to be happy.
He fell asleep with that hope on his mind, and Castiel's fingers tracing lazy lines up the valley of his spine, and Cas' eyelashes tickling his neck.
Feeling Dean's breath slow as he sank into sleep was a blissful kind of human experience that Castiel had never known in thousands of years of existence. He was glad to feel it, happy to his core, for once in his life. And he couldn't help but think, as the pull of sleep slowed his own breath to match Dean's, that there was something magical about Christmas after all.
He'd found the wonder he'd been looking for.