A/N: This is written for the SPN Advent Calendar on tumblr by bend-me-shape-me. Prompt: childhood memories

The day had been brutal and frigid. Sam, Dean, and Castiel had wanted to stay hunkered down in the bunker, safe, and warm, but a hunt had dragged them out. Luckily it had been a quick one. Just a regular ol' salt 'n burn. Though, they were too far away from the bunker to head back, and it had gotten late. The night had turned even more violent than the day, sleet turning to snow, slush turning to ice and being covered in piles of the white stuff. The roads were just too horrible for Dean to risk Baby going on them.

Thankfully the motel had plenty of hot water.

Dean was just climbing out of the shower, all dried, towel wrapped around his waist, and another around his hair. He sighed, and then grabbed his toothbrush.

The door opened, and he immediately got into a fighting stance, face grim, jaw locked and tense.

Castiel stepped in.

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes, and said, "Don't do that to me, babe!"

"Sorry. Right. Privacy."

"Uh, yeah."

"I'll just… go then."

Castiel had begun to leave, but Dean rested with one hand against the sink, toothbrush still in it. The towel around his hips was beginning to come loose, but it wasn't a danger for now. Still, Dean would keep an eye on it. "Okay, okay. What is it?" he asked.

"I missed you."

Dean laughed, and then gestured for Cas to come in.

"Alright, close the door."

He did so. Castiel stayed with Dean as he brushed his teeth, and after he rinsed out his mouth, his angel asked, "Can you tell me about Christmas? Things you've done in the past?"

Dean straightened, and looked up at him in the mirror.

The towel around his hips nearly came loose, showing much more of him than he wanted it to. Blushing, Dean fixed it, rubbed the other towel through his hair, and then tossed it to Cas. The angel caught it and stayed holding it, not seeming to know what to do with it.

"What's making you ask this?"

"I want to know you."

"You do know me."

Castiel rolled his eyes, tossing the towel to hang over the bathtub. He grabbed Dean, starting him so much that he gasped with his mouth open.

"Please? Tell me."

"Alright." Dean cleared his throat, "Well, uh, usually Christmas wasn't a big deal. You know, Dad wasn't ever really around. But once I started getting older, I… well, I decided to do things for Sammy. One year I scrounged up enough money to buy a tiny, little tree from a pharmacy. It didn't light up or nothin', but I put it on the dresser between the beds, and Sammy loved it. And I got construction paper — red and green. I cut them up into strips, and then when we got home from school, I got a pack of crayons, and we drew on them, then glued 'em together. Made a paper chain.

"There wasn't a lot I could for him," Dean admitted, head tilting down, cheeks growing pink. That childhood, it hadn't been easy. But the moments with Sam had been the light. "That year, we couldn't do presents, but I bought a pie. We stayed up all night on Christmas Eve, eating till we were stuffed, and then we finished it off for breakfast.

"It was a good time. It was… simple, if that makes any sense. I know our dad wasn't there when he should've been, but Sam and I, we're best friends. We were even then. So I did that for him."

"You've always been very good to Sam," Castiel observed.

"Yeah."

He swallowed roughly, wondering if he should've done better. Maybe he should've gotten a job, bought Sam presents. Maybe they should've had a real Christmas dinner. Maybe—

"Dean, you're thinking about something upsetting. I can tell."

Dean pursed his lips, thinking of the right words to tell Castiel what was going on.

"Yeah, well… happens a lot."

"Christmas doesn't have to be painful," Castiel told him. "I'll admit I still don't quite understand everything, but I'm just glad I'm here with you."

Dean chuckled. "'Cause I'm in a towel in the bathroom?"

"Partially."

They laughed together, falling into each other.

It was the middle of December, but still, Dean had an urge he had to fulfill. He kissed his angel.

After pulling away, he looked into those cerulean blue eyes filled with thousands of years, more lifetimes than Dean would ever have, and he said, "Merry Christmas, Cas."