Castiel cannot quite grasp the concept of human holidays, despite Dean's insisting that New Years Eve is not for kissing.
Twelve Holidays
1
Castiel was new to the Holiday spiel. Dean was trying to introduce him, slowly, but the angel just couldn't quite grasp the concept of holidays.
There was New Years, that was the first time they celebrated.
There was something about the way Castiel had tried to kiss Dean at midnight that had Sam laughing for weeks. It also had Dean, himself, taking cold showers for three weeks to wash away the thoughts crashing through his imagination.
He was right, to be honest. New Years was a sort-of couples holiday, and kissing at midnight was tradition. But, Dean had to explain it to Castiel at least six times that you kiss your significant other, NOT your friend. Castiel just pretended that he hadn't planned on kissing his own significant other, he hid the blush behind his wings as he fluttered from the room.
Castiel didn't return for at least a week. His mind was too confused and flustered to be around the Winchester boys after his attempt to kiss the older sibling.
2
Then came Valentines Day, to Dean's utter mortification. And with it, flowers and chocolate and even a giant teddy bear. And Castiel's second attempt to kiss the eldest Winchester.
This kiss was denied just as vehemently as the previous, but this time Dean was too flustered to talk to Castiel afterwards. He just left in the impala and didn't return until he figured the angel would've winked off.
Sam had tried to explain to the angel that, once again, the holiday was mainly celebrated by couples.
3
But, the angel would persist when March 17th arrived: Saint Patrick's Day.
Dean planned to celebrate the holiday as the Irish did, with gallons of beer and no regrets. Castiel had other thoughts: the angel had recently found a Google page that entitled St. Patrick's Day the most romantic holiday.
Dean was not surprised when Castiel appeared next to him that fateful Thursday morning, but he was surprised to spot the green hat tilted on the angel's head. Kiss Me, I'm Irish it read. He had sneered, "Cas, what's up with the hat?"
Castiel was not thrown off by his aggressive behavior, and instead tilted his head knowingly, "St. Patrick's Day is very romantic, Dean. Perhaps you'd like to celebrate accordingly."
The blood that shot to Dean's cheeks was enough to send him running from the house, and into the safety of his baby. Bobby and Sam had grinned in his direction as Castiel sat confused and left behind on Bobby's couch.
"Don't worry," Sam had promptly reassured him, "April Fools is right around the corner."
4
There was never a day Castiel understood less than he understood April Fools Day. He imagined Gabriel celebrated the day as if it were his own birthday, which it may have been, Castiel really had no idea when Gabriel was created.
Dean spent the evening prior painting a bar of soap with clear nail polish, gluing locks on all of Sam's favorite books, and changing around the buttons on the television remote. Castiel watched him with a look of perplexity on his face; "Dean." He addressed the man with a tilt of his head, Dean's nod was reason enough to continue, so the angel fixated his eyes on the ceiling and, "perhaps your bumper is as tight as the impala's."
Dean exhaled sharply through his teeth and he sat upright, squinting at the angel beside him through foggy eyes, "Cas."
"Yes, Dean?"
"Did you just compliment my ass?"
"Yes, Dean."
Dean stood slowly, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and standing there for a moment before storming out to the car.
5
And then there was that time Castiel tried to celebrate Cinco de Mayo.
"Hello, Dean. I believe that today is-"
"Not today, Cas."
"Dean, I-"
"Not. Today. Cas."
6
"Dean."
Castiel had not visited the Winchesters in a while, and Dean was feeling a bit wary of the angel, after all, he had tried putting the moves on him multiple times in the past 6 months. So, when Castiel burst onto the scene in a flutter of wings, Dean's eyes were wide, and he looked nothing if not spooked.
"Cas," he acknowledged slowly, moving a foot back as the angel had breached his personal space immediately.
"I was informed by Sam that today, June eighth, is the holiday known as Best Friend's Day." Dean visibly calmed at this description. How could Cas try to kiss him if it were a friendly day; friends didn't kiss friends, right?
"Oh, right." Dean breathed, feigning remembrance, but in reality, he had never even heard of the day. "And that brings you here... why?"
"I consider you my best friend, if the Urban Dictionary definition serves correct." Castiel stated matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural point to make.
"First of all, we've gone over this, Cas." Dean eyed the shorter man through his eyelashes as he stalked around the room. "Urban Dictionary is not an accurate source of information. And secondly... thanks?"
"You are welcome, Dean."
Dean moved to continue watching the Real Housewives re-runs, when Castiel interrupted him again, "however-"
"No, however, Cas! We can be best friends! That's fine. Just sit down and stop being foolish! Every holiday isn't romantic-"
"It is when you want it to be." Castiel closed the distance between them, scooting onto the couch and pressing their hips together as he eyed the older Winchester. "And I don't want to be your best friend."
"Okay, Cas. That's enough for today." Dean sputtered, rising to his feet to leave the room.
Cas smiled from the couch, knowing there was always next month.
7
Then the fourth of July arrived, and with fireworks of red, blue, white- Castiel.
There was a hush as the crowd ooh-ed and ah-ed their appreciation of the glowing sparks surrounding their dark sky. Sam smiled as Castiel shifted closed to Dean, the larger man had yet to notice their proximity.
Finally, as the climax began and a grin broke out across Dean's dry lips, Castiel leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly against the corner of his mouth. Dean launched backwards, staring at Castiel with a look of mixed emotions. Sam saw confusion, heartache, fear, and maybe... appreciation? all jumbled up in his two green pools of sight.
Then he was shooting off like that final firework that burst the sky into shades that rarely existed.
8
"Hello, Dean."
"There definitely isn't a holiday this month, Cas. So, you can just-"
"Actually, you are wrong. Today is a holiday: August 22nd."
Dean sighed loudly and glared at the angel in front of him. "And what holiday could today possibly be?"
"Be an Angel Day."
Dean laughed abruptly, clearing the smile from Castiel's lips like a windshield wiper as if blinked the rain away. "Be an Angel Day?!" Dean coughed with a sputter, "what the hell! How is that a holiday?!"
"Well, if you must know-"
"To be honest, Cas, I don't actually care. What's up?"
"You are the receiver today, of an Angel..." Castiel whispered slowly as he crossed the room in three quick steps, and Dean's back hit the wall with a thump as he matched the angel's pace.
"No, Cas, I-"
As the angel adjusted to press his lips to Dean's, the man in question moved left and ducked under his arm, running from the room for the thousandth time that year.
9
September had to be the month without a holiday, Dean thought with crazy eyes.
It had to be. He didn't think he could deal with another visit from the lovesick angel.
What with the ideas running through his head from blue eyes that matched the exact shade of the sky on that random Sunday morning, or those soft lips that might be as soft as they looked if he could just lean in and check..
Nope.
Nope.
Dean shook his head frantically and stalked from the room when Castiel appeared, muttering something about September 11th being an American holiday of sorts.
10
Halloween.
This was definitely a holiday of romance, Dean realized with a long sigh. From slutty costumes to scary movies. Everything that year seemed couples-themed. He prayed to God that Castiel wasn't planning on recognizing this fact.
He knew he'd be wrong.
His knowledge was reinforced by the angel that showed up that day, muttering Trick-or-Treat as he thrust his make-shift basket (his raincoat tied up to form a bag) towards Dean. The man coughed awkwardly as he guessed what Castiel was dressed as, "me?"
"Yes, Dean."
He slammed the door in the face of the hunter-wanna-be.
11
"Happy Thanksgiving, Dean!"
Dean tried his hardest not to leave the room, Sam had begged him to stay, after all, Thanksgiving was for family. And family meant the Winchester orphans, two Roadhouse-veterans, an old drunk, and one sloppy, lovesick angel.
"Pass the turkey!"
"Gimme some of that gravy!"
"For God's sake, Cas! Stop trying to play footsie with my brother! You're touching me."
"Sorry, Sam."
The holiday begged the question why. But it also answered it with an equally challenging why not?
It ended with a bang as Castiel tried to whisk Dean's stomach ache (from eating too much, Dean. I told you to stop after three pieces of pie.) away and ended up giving the man stomach cancer. That night, the toilet was as full as their stomachs.
Ellen shot Sam a knowing smile as Dean faded off while they watched some reality tv re-run. The oldest Winchester's eyes drooped and his head fell to the angel's shoulder, where Castiel promptly smiled and lifted an arm around Dean's waist.
12
Dean realized Castiel would never stop when December 24th arrived.
The angel would always be gazing at him through silent eyes. The angel would never stop poking at him with kisses and treats and any offering he felt deserved recognition. The angel would always be there.
And Dean was okay with that.
Dean craved that. Dean wanted the angel's affections, because frankly, life was boring without Castiel always hanging off his every word.
He planned to tell the angel that when he arrived the next day for Christmas, the holiday all other holiday's hoped to be.
He was wary that morning, jumpy even. Sam pointed it out as he stumbled up Bobby's steps and forgot to warm the car before driving down to get the tree. He cut his finger on the axe trying to chop down the damn thing, and then he tipped the man too much and ended up with less change than needed to buy the turkey.
He was scowling by the time Castiel arrived with a flutter of dark feathers.
"For God's sake, Cas! Took your time, didn't ya!" He shot coldly as the angel opened his mouth to greet him.
Castiel promptly closed his mouth, quietly frowning before moving to sit beside the grumpy Winchester. "I was picking out my present for you. That's right, isn't it? Humans give each other gifts for Christmas?"
"Sure is, Cas." Dean muttered, before signalling the angel to look up, "wanna know something else?" The angel tilted his head to show he was listening. "That's another tradition humans keep: mistletoe."
"Mistletoe..." Castiel tested the word on his lips before "what does mistletoe mean?"
"This." Dean whispered as he pressed his lips to Castiel's, who slid back, shocked at the contact. "What's up, man? Ballsy enough to flirt but too afraid to accept my advances?"
Castiel shook his head before launching forward all hands as he was everywhere at once. Dean caught the angel in his lap, adjusting their position on Bobby's couch to pull Castiel as close as space would provide.
"Woah!"
The pair stumbled apart as Sam burst into the room. "What the hell, Dean!"
Dean smiled sheepishly and shook his head, "it's the holidays, man." He muttered as Castiel shot him a soft grin.