The Second Day of Christmas
The bunker is dead silent when Dean wakes up, but that's not necessarily unusual. Kevin and Sam have this weird habit of waking up early and sitting at the table with their coffee, going through books like it's the best thing in the world. Cas, who has not only learned to use the stereo but discovered singing in the shower as well, also seems to stay rather quiet in the morning. Well, mostly - Dean chuckles to himself as he pokes his head into the kitchen (no one there) – because there was that one time Cas decided to try and sing "Hey Jude" to wake Dean up for a hunt.
There's no one in the main room, either, just the softly glowing Christmas lights and a few abandoned cups of coffee. Dean checks first Sam, then Cas, and finally Kevin's rooms. Nothing.
What the hell?
Finally, Dean throws on his coat and heads outside, the first pangs of worry starting to eat at his gut. Said pangs quickly change to irritation with a garnish of amusement when he opens the door and is greeted with a handful of snow to the face.
"Good one, Cas!" Sam crows, and then sputters when Kevin smacks him in the face with a snowball as well. "Hey!"
Overnight, the world has gone from a dull green to a shocking white. Dean steps out and watches his boot sink into over a foot of snow, grinning down at it. He wipes the melting snow from his face, and casts his eyes around until they land on Cas. At some point the ex-angel learned how to grin with abandon, and it's amazing how it lights his eyes and makes him seem almost boyish. He's forming another snowball in gloved hands. Dean reaches down to scoop up handfuls of his own, and the game is on.
Cas's hair is full of snow and Dean is slipping over ice and his own feet, laughing hysterically, when Kevin and Sam decide to gang up on him. Sam launches a snowball the size of his head at Dean's chest, and when Dean goes down with a grunt Kevin drops into a crouch and starts hurling snow like a machine, his hands a blur as they shovel icy white into Dean's face. The hunter is alternatively choking and laughing like a madman, and he's so busy just trying to fend off the onslaught enough to stand that he almost misses Castiel's sneak attack. The ex-angel darts around behind Sam, slapping a double handful of snow over his head and down the back of his shirt, and while Sam's flailing and yelping Cas dives forward, sliding through the snow like a damn seal, palms held out in such a manner that his momentum sprays a massive wave of white over Kevin.
"Hell yeah, get 'em Cas!" Dean whoops, scrambling to his feet as Castiel pops up and dives behind a snow drift before Kevin or Sam can react. Dean throws himself after the ex-angel, scrubbing his hands together because he didn't think to grab gloves before this war began.
"Here." Cas thrusts a pair of insulated leather gloves at Dean, and the hunter slides them on gratefully. He doesn't even bother to ask why Castiel has a spare set in his pocket, because it's just such a Cas thing to do.
Castiel's face is set and serious, in fact if Dean didn't know where to look – or, for that matter, how to speak the language of Castiel – he would've thought it was the ex-angel's hunting face. But Dean does know where to look, and he can see the sparkle in Cas's wide blue gaze, the smoothing of tiny wrinkles around his eyes that means he's enjoying himself immensely. Sure, Castiel has learned how to grin, Dean thinks with a grin of his own, but when he really gets focused on something he goes all Angel of the Lord over it, no matter how human or amused he may actually be.
"Hiding is cheating!" Kevin yells. Dean peeks over the safety of the drift and sees Kevin with a snowball packed and ready in his fist. Sam is still squirming, and Dean suspects some of the snow went down his pants. He claps Cas on the shoulder in congratulations and scoops up a handful of snow, which is much easier now that his hands aren't threatening to turn blue.
He's getting ready to hurl his new ammo when Cas's hand on his wrist stops him. The ex-angel shakes his head, and now there's mischief dancing in his eyes. He begins building snow balls, one after the other, and Dean catches on and helps him until they have a sizable pile.
"Ready?" Cas whispers, and when Dean nods they begin throwing in earnest.
It takes Kevin and Sam all of two seconds to realize where the snowballs are coming from, but the rapid-fire volley is making it difficult for them to get close. Dean laughs until he can barely breathe even as he continues to fire, and Castiel's serious expression is beginning to break down, tiny chuckles growing until he's outright laughing, collapsing under the force of it. He falls onto his back, arms thrown out on either side of him, one hand resting against Dean's side as he drops his head into the snow and just laughs. Dean stops firing, stunned by the red glow that the cold air has drawn on to Castiel's cheeks, the joy in his wide blue eyes as he turns to grin at Dean, how comfortable the hand feels as it curls into his coat. Something inside Dean stops dead, and then abruptly begins studiously inspecting a long-established heterosexuality for holes.
He might start to panic a little at that point.
Two giant armloads of freezing cold land on top of them, and Dean sets aside his freak out for another moment. Preferably one that isn't filled with him trying to rub his smug brother's face in the snow.
Sam shrieks, but Dean has successfully tackled his brother the squid-limbed giant around the knees, and he's currently climbing up his back, grabbing handfuls of Sam's stupidly long hair and pushing his face towards the freezing ground. "Kevin! Help!"
Dean snorts, but then Kevin pulls a Karate Kid on him and suddenly he's on his back, gasping for air, while Sam scrambles to his feet and Kevin pelts him with loose snow. Fortunately, they've both forgotten about Castiel again, and while Dean blindly scoops flurries of snow at his attackers Castiel yanks open the back of Sam's shirt and deliberately dumps a handful of frozen stuff into it.
"Cas – damnit -" Sam frantically yanks at the hem of his shirt and shimmies, trying to get the snow out, and while he's distracted Castiel tackles Kevin and proceeds to bury his head in the snow. Dean can't stop laughing again, can't even stand up because Kevin's arms are flailing as he sputters and curses, and Sam is still wriggling in place and slapping at his own back, and this just might be the best day ever.
Castiel pushes himself to his feet and stands back to survey his handiwork, and now there's a smug smirk on his face that Dean's never seen before, but it makes the panic well up in his chest again because he wants to do crazy things right now - like jump up and pull Cas into a hug, maybe kiss one red cheek before...
Well, shit.
Dean barely stops himself from burying his face in his hands because now he knows he's screwed. Not just because he thought of kissing Castiel, but because of how he thought of it. Kissing a girl on the cheek was something Dean had only done twice in his entire life, once with Cassie and once with Lisa, because they'd meant more to him than any other chick he'd slept with.
And Cas... well, Cas means more to him than anyone else in the world, except Sammy - and the fact that he's managed to work his way so close to Dean that he shares space with Sam means Dean isn't just screwed. He's royally and completely fucked.
The four finally pile back inside, retreating to their separate rooms for dry clothes, and eventually they end up at the table, all gathered at one end of it because none of them are very good at spreading out. Sam disappears into the kitchen, and just as Dean is about to get up to see what he's doing he comes back with a tray of steaming mugs.
"Coffee?" Dean asks hopefully.
"Hot chocolate," Sammy responds, setting one cup down in front of him.
Normally Dean doesn't care for hot chocolate, but the morning has been going in such a manner that he decides it sounds fantastic right now. He watches Sam hand out the other cups, grinning to himself when Castiel latches onto his eagerly – the ex-angel has one hell of a sweet tooth – but Sam shakes his head before Cas can take a sip.
"Hang on, Cas." Sam sets the tray down and pulls something from his coat pocket...candy canes.
Dean can't help it, he starts laughing again, but he takes the one Sam hands him and breaks off a chunk to drop into his hot chocolate. "When did you get these?"
"A few days ago, I kind of forgot about them. They only had three canes at the store, though, so..." Sam trails off as he pulls out one of those thick peppermint sticks. Suddenly Dean can't breathe because Cas is looking at it with wide, delighted eyes, and without any ado at all he snatches it from Sam's hands with a hurried "Thank you", rips off the plastic, and deep throats the damn thing.
Dean wonders if this is what it's like to have a heart attack.
The thick stick of candy has to be at least five or six inches long, and at least half of it has disappeared into Castiel's mouth. Dean watches with a frantic kind of desperation as Cas's lips purse around the red and white stripes, as his throat works and... oh god, yup, there's a tongue there, peeking out for just a moment when Cas draws the stick back, licking at the tip as the ex-angel closes his eyes and lets out a pleased moan.
"Um...Dean? You okay?"
Dean glances over at Sam, who has stopped mid-stir with his candy cane to stare with concern at his brother. His nice, regular sized candy cane, why the hell couldn't he have just given Cas that one? It takes him a moment, but Dean realizes he's gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles are turning white, and he lets go and begins stirring his cocoa at a ridiculous speed. Little brown drops spray over the tabletop. "Fine, I'm good," he mumbles.
The hunter makes the mistake of glancing at Castiel again. The peppermint stick is back in his mouth, only this time the ex-angel's eyes are open, and they're watching Dean. The gaze is perfectly innocent, just a normal, ever-curious Cas-stare, but Dean's imagination turns it into something sly and sexy, and he can't drink his cocoa fast enough.
He's just manly enough not to scream when it scalds everything from his tongue to the back of his throat. He does make some sort of low squawking noise, though.
"Dude, you cool?" Kevin asks, in a tone of voice that says he knows Dean is a moron, he's just not sure what the exact cause of his stupidity is at the moment, though he fully intends to put it under a microscope and study it until he finds the source.
"Are you alright, Dean?" Castiel has removed that evil, evil candy from his mouth, and his eyes are wide and genuinely concerned. Sam is just snickering, and Dean suddenly has a gut-punching idea of just why Cas is holding that particular piece of candy.
"Yeah, I'm good, Cas," Dean says with a weak smile, ignoring the tightness in his voice from the burning in his throat as intently as he is ignoring everyone else at the table.
Castiel smiles, apparently satisfied, and swallows down his candy again.
Dean's chair clatters to the floor as he runs for the bathroom.
Ten minutes and one frantic date with his right hand later, Dean is leaning against the bathroom sink, staring into his own eyes in the mirror as he tries to figure out just exactly how this happened. He's having zero luck, because he's slowly realizing it wasn't one exact thing that caused it. He wonders how long this has been building, so slow and ninja-stealthy that he hadn't noticed it until the precise moment that it finally struck him, full and in his face. Had it begun years ago, when Cas pulled him from Hell? The first time he rebelled for Dean?
Does it even matter?
Dean groans and slaps a hand over his eyes. No, he decides, it doesn't matter. It happened, and it just is, and he supposes there's no point in really freaking out about it at all. So Cas is a dude, so what. He's still the only person besides Sammy who's ever stuck beside Dean no matter the circumstance, the one who makes him laugh over the most ridiculous things, the angel turned human who can speak too many languages and remembers moments in history that happened thousands of years ago, but can't work a microwave or navigate a computer to save his life. The guy who knows exactly when to leave Dean alone, and when to bring him coffee and push until he talks, who won't take Dean's shit and gives as good as he gets...
Dean's hand falls from his face and he meets his own eyes again, as a bizarre sort of calm blankets the panic still trying its best to overwhelm him. Right. This is way worse than he'd thought, and it has the potential to be the best thing ever. Cas can be something permanent, like the Impala or Sammy or this bunker. This is something that can work.
A grin begins to form unbidden on his face, and he decides it will work, so long as... but no, he doesn't let himself think about any potential lack of reciprocation, because then he'll start thinking of all the reasons he shouldn't do it, and for some reason he doesn't want that.
By the time he returns to the main room Sam has disappeared, and Kevin and Cas are leaning over the table, talking quietly. Cas is smiling, one of his tiny smiles that says he's a little confused, but also very on board with whatever is being discussed, and it makes Dean curious as hell. Not to mention, more than a little suspicious.
"What are you girls gossiping about?" Dean asks as he throws himself into a chair beside Cas.
"Nothing!" Kevin squeaks, and he waves his hands frantically when Castiel frowns and opens his mouth. "Nothing, just, you know, shopping stuff. I mean, if we're gonna have Christmas we need presents, right?"
Slowly, Cas shuts his mouth, but continues to frown in confusion. Dean notices a large portion of the peppermint stick is still intact, and it juts up from Castiel's empty cup to point straight at Dean.
"Good point," Dean agrees. Oh god, what is he going to get for Cas? What would Cas want? The ex-angel is terrible at asking for things he wants. "Sam's easy, but what do you want, Kevin?"
Kevin looks pleasantly surprised. "Um...I don't actually know," he says. "I'll think about it. What, um...what would Sam want?"
Castiel opens his mouth again, only to have Kevin cut his hand across his throat in a sharp shut the fuck up! motion, and Dean wonders if there's a clue bus around here somewhere he can hitch a friggin' ride with, because come on. "All right, then. Something nerdy," Dean says with a shrug, ignoring the glare Kevin tosses his way. "We can go shopping later, I'll show you."
"Yeah... okay." Kevin smiles a little, his eyes cutting away from Dean and towards Sam's room, and okay, yeah, Dean really needs that clue bus to show up right about fucking now.
"What would you like for Christmas, Dean?" Castiel asks.
Dean doesn't answer for a long time because he can't think of anything. He has Sammy, Cas, Kevin, the bunker, his car... the only thing he can think of is still too new, and he almost flushes when he glances at Cas and thinks of... nope, no, not going there yet.
"Surprise me," Dean says finally, with a shrug like it's no big deal, but something bright and happy flashes in Castiel's eyes, and it makes Dean wonder what he has up his sleeve.
"I would like that as well," Castiel says before Dean can ask what he wants, and sometimes Dean wonders if the ex-angel can still read his mind somehow.
Great. Dean lets his head fall back, because it's safer than watching Cas pick up his peppermint stick and suck on it some more. What in the hell is he going to get Cas? It couldn't just be some random thing, it's his first Christmas present!
Without saying a word, Dean gets up and wanders in the direction of Sam's room. The door is open, and Dean can see his enormous little brother stretched out on his bed, his laptop on one side, a book open in front of him. The older hunter smiles fondly while Sammy can't see him. As much as he teases Sam for being nerdy, it's what makes Sam Sam, and Dean loves him for it no matter what he says.
Since the door is open, Dean strides in and throws himself down into a chair. Sam refused to 'move in' for the first few months, but slowly things are beginning to appear in his room. Pictures of the four of them that have been recently taken are scattered across the walls, a book shelf with something more than research piled into it is tucked close to the bed, there's even a Game of Thrones poster from the DVD box set he'd bought last month. When Sam looks up from his book, eyebrows raised in question, Dean can't help the grin that's half mocking and half stupidly pleased.
"Shut up, jerk," Sam says without venom.
"I didn't say anything, bitch!" Dean protests with a chuckle. "Hey, what are you getting Cas for Christmas?"
Sam smirks. He ducks his head to hide it, but Dean sees the tail end of it before Sam's hair swallows his face. "Not sure yet. He's hard to shop for, he never says what he wants."
"I know!" Dean can't help the way it explodes out of him, and he hopes Sam doesn't notice. "We gotta teach him it's okay to ask for things."
Sam nods in agreement, and when he flips back his hair all traces of the smirk are gone. "I was thinking about getting him some stuff for his room. All he has in there are pictures of us - well. Mostly you." There it is again, just a quick grin and it's gone, and Dean's eyes narrow but he doesn't say anything.
"I know he likes to read," Sam continues, as though nothing happened. "I found him reading a book of Greek myths last week. And I found out a few days ago that he's discovered Doctor Who."
The only reason Dean knows the show is because on the rare occasions Sam managed to wrestle the remote from him, he would randomly watch it. Somehow it doesn't surprise him at all that Cas likes it. "Which one's his favorite?" Dean asks, rolling his eyes and trying his best to make it look like he's asking so he can mock Cas later.
"Ten," Sam answers instantly, and Dean firmly pretends that he didn't just file that information away for later.
Something on the page apparently catches Sam's attention because suddenly he's zoned in on his book, seemingly forgetting Dean's there at all. Dean just rolls his eyes fondly and leaves him to it.
He has bigger things to worry about, anyway.
