Twelve Days of Christmas
A/N: Well, this gem was inspired by the variations of the song 'The Twelve Days of Christmas'. I think it was Bob and Doug Mackenzie's version that just finally made me want to write this. There will be twelve of these, one every day until Christmas, and they will be one of this, two of that, three of that, so on and so forth. So go forth and enjoy!
Warnings: Crack!fic; some guy loving (not so much this chapter...), cursing. Nothing too bad.
On the First Day of Christmas, Team Free Will gave to me...
We're doing it for Cas, Dean reminded himself as he missed the nail and hit his thumb with the hammer. It smarted like a bitch, and he hissed at the pain he caused himself again. He was starting to wonder if this Christmas crap was worth it; he couldn't remember the last proper Christmas they had, with most of their traditions consisted of rum-heavy eggnog and gas station presents wrapped haphazardly or still in the plastic bags.
But when the angel-turning-human had expressed his desire to have a real Christmas- in front of him, Sam and Bobby- Dean found it hard to say no. Especially since Sam had also pulled the ridiculous puppy eyes.
"Well, it would be nice to have a real Christmas, Dean. And it's not like there's really any cases for us."
Dean hated the logic, but it was true; it was like even the supernatural realized that they holiday season was nearby. He had hoped Bobby would say something about not wanting them around for two weeks, and he knew that it wasn't going to happen. They were family- not blood related, but a family all the same.
So that's how the eldest Winchester found himself on a step ladder in a doorway, attempting to hang a sprig of mistletoe. Not that he understood why. It wasn't like there were any women in the house, and getting caught under the mistletoe would just be awkward.
Note to self- avoid stopping in the doorway at all costs.
Finally, satisfied with his handiwork, Dean got down from the ladder and put it aside, the hammer on the top step. Still didn't make sense to him, but he let it be.
"Hey Dean, a hand with the lights?"
Dean turned to see Sam trying to untangle a massive knot of lights by himself, Bobby having taken Cas into town to get more Christmas stuff.
This is already turning into a pain in my ass, he thought bitterly, walking over to help with the detangling process.
Two hours, several curses and even a few prayers that the lights magically untangled themselves, the Winchester brothers managed to get it set right. Dean was moodier than before, wanting nothing more than to go lock himself in the panic room until the New Year.
"Cheer up, Mr Grinch." Sam grinned, coiling the lights around his shoulder to make it easier to bring outside. "It isn't so bad."
Dean just glared, stomping into the kitchen to grab himself a beer as the rest of their mismatched family entered the house. The expression on Castiel's face was as stoic as ever, but Dean could see the spark of excitement in those bright blue orbs. Even Bobby seemed less irritable.
"Am I the only one here that's against this whole idea?" Dean asked, cracking open his bottle and leaning on the doorframe.
"Boy, what's wrong with you?" Bobby asked him, while Sam just grinned wickedly in the background.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Christmas is what's wrong, Bobby. This-" he gestured to the bags on the floor and to Sammy with the lights, "-is what's wrong."
He was too worked up still from the lights to notice Sam whisper something to Castiel. Dean was too preoccupied arguing with Bobby to notice the way the angel tilted his head in confusion, and then understanding. And he was only vaguely aware that his personal space was being invaded until that low, gravelly voice caught his attention.
"Dean."
He had just enough time to turn his eyes to Cas before an awkward peck was placed on his cheek. His face flushed and he was confused until he realized where he was standing.
In the doorway.
Where he had hung the mistletoe not even a few hours ago.
It wasn't the most unpleasant thing to have ever happened. And he had to admit that he was happy it was his angel- their angel, he corrected- that had kissed him. Though it definitely set off some alarms in his head.
"Cas?"
"Yes Dean?"
"How'd you know about the mistletoe?"
It was brief, but Dean saw the flash of guilt in his face and the way his eyes shifted over to Sam.
Sam.
Sam.
Sam who was grinning like the cat that ate the canary and chuckling silently.
Sam, who caught the murderous glare in Dean's eye and took off running, the string of lights still coiled around his shoulder, Dean following not far behind.
"I swear to God, Sam, I'm going to kill you!" could be heard from outside.
Bobby rolled his eyes, walked into the kitchen and grabbed two beer, muttering "Idjits" before passing a bottle to Cas.
It was going to be a long twelve days till Christmas was done.
... a kiss under mistletoe.