Day 12: Midnight

It has become something of a tradition for them, sharing a kiss at midnight every Christmas eve. After all these years, after all they have been through. No matter what, they share a kiss.

Even if they're both bruised and bloody, even if it's between the bars of two jail cells, even if they are in a room full of nightmarish monsters that are about to pull them limb from limb. If it's midnight and if it's Christmas eve, then nothing will stop them.

But tonight it's easier. Tonight they've been sitting in front of the fireplace in one of the lounge areas Dean found in the Men of Letters Bunker. They're nice and toasty warm from the fire raging before them and toasty warm overall because of the special bottle of Jameson they are sharing. Snow is falling silently outside and for once the world is in some modicum of peace and is not crying for the Winchesters to come save it.

A clock starts chiming the midnight hour from somewhere in the bunker and Sam pulls Dean to his feet. He drags him to the doorway that leads out to the hall both of them chuckling from a little too much alcohol and so much contentment washing through them from just being here, together.

Sam points up and Dean's chuckles turn into an all out snort of delighted disbelief. Above them is a sprig of mistletoe that Sam had strategically placed there earlier.

Dean gives Sam his biggest, most heart-melting smiles and Sam returns it with one of his own. And then they come together, their bodies fitting together perfectly, their lips meeting like they have done for years.

They share a kiss full of promise and love on the twelfth stroke of midnight. Because it's a tradition, after all, and it's one neither of them would ever miss or forget, come hell or high-water, even though they've been through both. Because even if they have nothing left in their lives, they at least have each other…and a kiss at midnight on Christmas Eve.