A/N: All of you get hugs! So many hugs! And the Smut Fairy will come to visit you while you are asleep and she will grant you the smuttiest dreams. I promise. You just have to believe.

I hope you like this chapter, because 1) it's designed to lure you into a false sense of security and 2) shoot, I ruined the lure just now, didn't I? Nevermind that bit I just said, everything is going to be awesome forever and no one will ever frown! Dean and Cas are adopting a puppy! They've named it... Bobby John.

*sigh* You didn't buy it, did you? You're too smart for me. Oh well. If you review this chapter, I will... uh... hmmm... Ooo! Ooo! If you review, you get to tell me one word you would like me to incorporate into the next chapter and I'll do it. 'Kay? 'Kay. Please review.

On with the show!

After a couple of minutes, Dean sat up. "Well," he said. "I guess I should be going."

Cas sat up, his hair sticking up in odd patches and a newly blossomed hickey on his neck. "Take a pie, won't you?"

"Sure," Dean said.

So they went to the kitchen and got Dean a pie, and Cas wrapped up some leftovers.

"The mini corndogs reheat well," Dean commented.

Cas nodded and sealed the gladware tub. "Oh, yes. They'll keep for a long time, too."

Dean thanked Cas for having him, and Cas thanked him likewise, and he got Dean's coat, and they shook hands and wished each other a Happy New Year in advance. Dean waved goodbye and walked out the door.

He made it all the way to his front door before he stopped and blinked.

Was he mental?

He made a 180, sprinted back to Cas's, and raised his fist to pound on the door -

The door swung open. A surprised Cas stood there, wearing a big khaki trenchcoat with a cloth belt tied around the middle. "Dean. You're back."

"I just realized - " Dean caught his breath - "that we could be having sex right now."

Cas nodded. "So did I. I was just on my way over."

"Are you naked under that trenchcoat?" Dean asked.

"I'm naked under this trenchcoat," Cas answered.

Dean stepped inside, closed the door, grabbed Cas by the lapels and shoved him up against the wall and kissed him so hard their teeth knocked. Then he stepped back and yanked off his jacket as quickly as possible.

Cas grinned. "Hot damn. You're good at this."

"Good at - what?" Dean tore off his shirt and was surprised to find he still hadn't caught his breath, somehow.

"Seduction." Cas's eyes were dark and hungry and even a little savage, and he grabbed Dean by the waist and kissed him roughly and pushed him against the door, and said, "I think you should know that I don't normally come that fast."

And that's when Dean, in one swift movement, jerked the belt from Cas's trenchcoat so fast it zipped. Cas's eyes widened and his nostrils flared and his whole body went rigid.

Dean smirked. "Wanna bet?"

….

So, it was pretty much no-contest the Best Christmas Ever. The next 24 hours were basically nonstop sex interrupted only by food and fatigue. And honestly – Dean surprised himself with how easy it was. After all the denial and bullshit he'd put himself through about being attracted to Cas, he never would have predicted that he could jump into bed so nonchalantly. Maybe it was because it was sex, and sex was something that came naturally to Dean. Whatever the case, he wasn't going to second-guess it because holy. Fucking. Shit. It was good.

"So how many guys have you slept with?" Dean asked, his arm draped around Cas's middle and his cheek resting on Cas's chest. "Because I'm not gonna lie, you seem like you've had a lot of practice."

Cas chuckled and his ribs bucked gently under Dean's head. "Trust me, Dean. You don't want to know."

"Also, why am I in the chick position?" Dean asked indignantly, making no move to change his location.

Cas ran his fingers through Dean's hair. "Because you like me to rub your head."

Dean opened his mouth to protest because he had no such preference and then Cas's fingertips stroked his scalp again and all could say was "Huh."

Cas chuckled again and then exhaled deeply. He kissed the top of Dean's head. "Please excuse my dear Aunt Sally," he murmured.

Dean's eyelids were getting really, really heavy so instead of getting properly baffled, he just mumbled, "English, Cas."

"Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally." Cas's fingers carded through his hair again, soft and slow. "Parentheses, Exponents, Multiplication, Division, Addition, Subtraction. The order of operations."

Dean let his eyes drift closed because Cas probably couldn't see them anyways and asked, "Algebra? That's your pillow talk?"

"We didn't follow the order of operations." Cas's voice was low and husky and it rumbled into Dean through his body. "This isn't how I normally do things."

And that's when, with great effort, Dean mustered all of the sarcasm he was capable of producing and said, "Gee, really? This is different for you?"

Cas laughed, and Dean turned his face up to him and scowled. "It's not funny."

"It's hilarious," Cas corrected, grinning from ear to ear.

Dean hrumphed and disentangled himself from Cas and pulled the sheets tight around his body. "And by the way, just because we're having sex doesn't mean I'm gay, alright?"

"I know that." Cas turned on his side and propped his head up on his arm, watching Dean and smiling. "You have such bilateral conceptions of sexuality."

"As opposed to you, who approaches it unilaterally?" Dean retorted.

Cas closed his eyes and shook his head. "Dean, Dean, Dean. Your problem is that you think of sexuality as a discrete attribute – straight or gay. Yes or no. When in reality…" He smoothed his pillow with his hand. "It's like politics. We have a two party system. People identify as Republican or Democrat, based on where the majority of their values lie, and there are vocal extremists in each camp: pure liberals, and pure conservatives..." Cas slid his hand along Dean's upper arm. "But most fall somewhere closer to the middle. Maybe your Republican aunt is against the death penalty. Maybe your Democrat uncle supports gun rights." His hand made its way to his collarbone, and he traced the ridge there with his fingers. "Regardless of party loyalties, political beliefs are really a spectrum ranging from fascist to communist, and the majority of the public is fairly moderate."

Dean sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "So, following this metaphor, what does that make you? A Nazi or the Red Menace?"

Cas moved closer to Dean, and his hand slid further down his chest, resting lightly on his sternum. "I'm a Marxist, sexually speaking. 'From each according to his abilities…'" He dragged his hand lower, and then murmured right in Dean's ear, "… to each according to his need.'"

Dean's heart started beating a little faster, and the room got a little warmer, and he quipped, "That's what I like about you, Cas. You make history fun."

Cas smiled and kissed the side of Dean's jaw, and as he slid his hand down along the v of his hipbone, he began reciting, "Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation…"

"Fuck you," Dean groaned. "I'm going to end up with the weirdest fucking fetishes."

"… conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition – mmm, you like that, huh –"

"Unnnghhhh yeah uhn oh God now I'm picturing him –"

"– the proposition that all men are created equal –"

"Fuck you ohhhh fuck Lincoln!"