A/N: Good day, my glorious chickadees! Happy New Year to all of you!
I know, I've been away a whole two days, and you're probably wasting away in my absence, pining for my beloved presence. It's difficult to survive without me. Right?
Right, guys?
*crickets*
Aaaaaanyways, I wrote you this chapter and it was fairly tricky. To give you some insight to the writing process, in general I visualize each scene as if it were the television show. I picture the actors and imagine the way they would sound, the faces they would make, the gestures they always do. Then I personalize it to whichever POV I'm using, imagining their own perceptions and employing the other senses - touch, smell, taste. Then I try and translate that into the written word in a concise, semi-eloquent manner. Some days, the words come easily. Other days, I canNOT for the life of me figure out a way to describe stupid little things like the squinty-scrunchy incredulous face Dean makes when he absolutely cannot believe the ridiculousness that you are saying to him. Or how to avoid saying the word "incredulous" every other sentence.
So, that's my process. And this chapter, wellll... let's just say the translation was a little harder. I'm playing with reveals that would be extremely clear in a visual medium, but might not read as well here. I hope it's understandable what's going on. If you're at all confused, just read the reviews - I promise that at least Adja knows what's going on. :P
Those of you who review this chapter, I will give you... money! 100 WinchesterBucks, to be exact. These WinchesterBucks can be exchanged for the Winchester of your choosing, but act quickly - inflation is on the rise, and the price for these boys is goin' up, up, up!
And on with the show!
"So I've stocked up on gummy bears," Dean told Sam. "I figure three jumbo bags should do it. It isn't Christmas without the risk of diabetes."
Sam laughed. "Man, I wish I could be there, but… I didn't know I was coming until last week, the ticket prices would be insane –"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean reassured him. "I know you tried. It's okay. This time next week, I'll have more of your company than I can stand."
"Besides, I wouldn't want to miss out on turkey dinner here. There's nothing that says 'Christmas' quite like mashed potatoes served up on a cafeteria tray, you know?"
"Hey, no brother of mine is gonna stay in a facility that doesn't make good food," Dean said emphatically. "I checked it out. Betty Ford's got nothing on you guys. Besides, Cas is probably making halibut and stroganoff."
Sam chuckled, and then paused a moment. "Wait, I just realized - you've never been to Cas's house before, have you?"
"I haven't," Dean admitted. "I'm putting five dollars on incense being involved."
"You know he's got at least one bead curtain."
"Oh, most definitely."
"Wait – " Sam stopped. "Hang on, I guess I've got a visitor… I gotta go, Dean. I don't know who the hell it is…"
"Dude, it's probably Bobby!" he suggested. "About time he got out west."
Sam barked a laugh. "Right. Because spontaneity is Bobby's middle name. Anyways, bye, Dean."
"Talk to you soon," he said.
Then Dean closed his cell phone and handed it to the attendant. "Thanks for bending the rules," he said. "I won't be any more trouble."
She smiled. "He'll be out shortly. Happy holidays."
"You too," Dean replied warmly. He sat down in one of the beige chairs to wait and thought to himself – not untruthfully – that it was because of his devilishly charming smile that she'd let him temporarily break the "no cellphone" policy.
A couple of minutes later, Sam pushed open the door to the visiting lounge and glanced around the room.
Dean stood up quickly, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. "Hey, Sammy."
Sam whirled and saw him. His jaw dropped. His mouth flopped open and closed like a beached fish.
Dean grinned. "I said I'd talk to you soon."
And Sam's entire face lit up and he broke into a smile so wide Dean's cheeks hurt just looking at him. "Dean! Jesus, Dean! What the fuck are you doing here?" he exclaimed, striding over and grabbing him into a tight hug.
Dean clapped him on the back and laughed. "It's two days to Christmas, Sam. I had to make a showing or else the staff would think I'm a terrible brother. I'm only staying for a few hours, and then it's back to the airport." Then he reached to the chair behind him and picked up his gift.
Sam groaned and chuckled at the same time. "Ohhhh no, you shouldn't have. Dean, I don't have anything for you."
"Relax, you can bring me something for New Year's." Dean handed him the rectangular box. "Open it."
Sam eagerly tore off the wrapping paper and laughed when he realized what it was. "The Star Wars original trilogy VHS box set!"
"Well, I knew that you're a huge geek, and you like Star Wars," Dean explained, "and the geeks on the internet assure me that this is the version least likely to bad-touch your childhood memories. No CGI Hayden Christiansen, Greedo shoots second, all that jazz."
"Thanks Dean." Sam smirked. "And now, if I ever get time-warped back to 1993, I'll be the coolest kid on the block."
"Shut up." Dean punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Your little nerd heart is palpitating with joy and you know it."
Sam grinned at him, and then his eyes got a little shiny and he sucked in between his teeth and he said, "Thanks for coming down here, Dean. It means a lot to me." He smiled. "Even if you are a jerk."
Dean smiled back and tried to keep the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest from overflowing into his eyes and making them blurry. "Bitch."
Then Sam crumpled up the wrapping paper and tried to shove it in Dean's pocket so Dean dutifully did his best to make Sam eat the paper ball and he had him in a pretty excellent chokehold until the attendant coughed and gave them a disapproving look.
They sheepishly let go of each other and clasped their hands respectfully.
"C'mon," Sam urged, "let's take a walk outside. Enjoy the sunshine before you go back to the Arctic Circle. California Christmas is balmy."
They wandered around the place for a few hours, and when Dean had to go, he hugged Sam and realized how much he'd missed his brother.
…..
Cas smiles up at Dean, the flickering firelight reflected in his eyes, liquor flushing his cheeks lightly pink. "What?"
I can do whatever I want.
Dean bends down and puts his mouth on Cas's and kisses him fiercely. He's rewarded by the deeply gratified noise that rumbles in Cas's chest and hums into Dean and he presses down harder, the warm sting of whiskey in Cas's mouth urging on his tongue, desperate for something he can't yet taste but he's sure he can reach it if he can only climb completely into Cas's skin and twine their bodies together, and so his left hand snakes up through Cas's hair and along the side of his jaw while his right hand is pawing at his buttons –
And then suddenly Cas's hands are at his shoulders, pushing him back, parting their mouths. "Stop, Dean. No."
Dean woke up with a start.
He blinked his eyes and took in his surroundings: plastic tray table, cramped seat, small oval window, clouds. He was on the plane home. Dream – that was a dream. He blearily righted the dinky plastic cup his hand had knocked over in his sleep and smiled apologetically at his fellow passenger, who seemed wholly disinterested.
What a freaky dream, and in a semi-public place…. Belatedly he realized that the tray table covering his lap had perhaps saved him from some embarrassment. Jesus.
Only it didn't exactly seem like a dream. It sort of seemed like… a memory.
Stop, Dean. No.
Dean felt his entire face go red hot.
He had kissed Cas. That drunken night he had kissed him, and Cas – the same crazy neighbor who had kissed him as a dare and offered him a blowjob – Cas had stopped him.
Awesome.
Dean put his hand to his forehead, closed his eyes, and tried not to die of shame.
