A/N: Sorry its a short one, people. Apparently society expects me to participate.
They walked to the diner, both of them in hats, with their hands in their pockets. Dean wore the scarf in which Cas had wrapped him, warmed not just by the scarf, but how it had gotten there. Cas wore his jacket zipped up to his chin. When they pushed their way through the steam-clouded doors of the diner, Cas pulled off his gloves and beanie, and tried to rub warmth back into his face. The first thing Dean did was pull off the beanie and try to revive his hair, then he loosened the scarf.
An older waitress, in what looked like a bowling uniform, gestured at them to come closer.
"Come in fellas, its cold out there. Can I get you a seat?"
"Sure, that would be great." Dean smiled his trademark overfriendly smile as the waitress led them to a booth next to the window. "Can I get you something to drink?" she asked, handing them laminated menus. "Just coffee for now." Dean smiled again. Cas scowled and waited for the waitress to leave.
"Dean, were you flirting with the waitress?" Cas asked directly, skewering Dean with a very pointed stare. Dean looked shocked. "What? No! I'm being friendly and trying to get us good service, that's all."
Cas seemed to accept this and settled back in his seat, hidden behind the menu. Dean pretended to read his own menu and surreptitiously stroked the back of Cas' calf with the toe of his boot. Cas' voice came from behind the menu.
"Dean. Your boots are cold."
Dean gave Cas his most winning smile. "Aw, you're still jealous."
Cas lowered his menu and gazed at Dean with what Dean had come to call The Epic Stare. It was like being minutely examined under a microscope, or standing on stage under the heat of the spotlight. Eventually Cas spoke. "I'm not jealous. I was momentarily concerned. Now, what should we order?"
That was Cas dismissing the subject. Dean gave a smile reserved just for Cas, one that he knew amused him. It was his 'the-neighbours-are-going-to-complain-about-the-noise-in-the-morning' smirk. He saw Cas' eyes smile before his mouth did, and knew he was forgiven. Cas grinned and shook his head.
"Food, Dean, concentrate on the food."
"Okay. If you insist. Have you eaten a Christmas dinner before?"
"Yes, but it was poor and before sugar was widely available." Dean did a double take. "Really?"
"Yes."
"Hm. Well, diner dinners are pretty poor too. There are only three decent Christmas traditions and they are eggnog, mistletoe and presents."
"Eggnog, mistletoe…and presents?" Cas echoed mistrustingly. "Is this going to be like Valentines Day?"
"Oh, hell no. This is a wholesome family occasion."
"Good. I still get quite anxious around food dispensed from aerosols."
Dean reached across the table and gave Cas' hand a quick squeeze. It had taken Dean a while to tell when Cas was trying to be funny, but he got Cas' humour now. Cas was actually quite the joker, but preferred subtle teasing, very different to the practical jokes and barbed jibes that Dean and Sam exchanged.
"I guess we have to have a traditional Christmas meal," Dean suggested doubtfully.
"No we don't," Cas countered. "You're not obliged to do anything any more. You've had enough of that in your life." Dean was surprised by the passion in Cas' voice and the intense frown that accompanied it. "Okay," he agreed. He allowed himself a contented smile. Cas always managed to inspire that warm, comfortable weight in his chest, like a cat curling asleep there. Even he noticed Cas was good for him, and Dean was pretty obtuse. His vocabulary was expanding and yet he didn't feel like a phoney, go figure. He was eating better (although not without argument), drinking less and sleeping the sleep of the carnally satisfied. His smile grew. Yes, finally, life was good. It had been hard surviving this far, but worth it.
Once when they were visiting Sam, Dean had been absently rubbing Cas' knee, engrossed in the movie they were watching. He hadn't noticed Sam eyeing him.
"Dude, you're so handsy. Why do you touch him all the time?"
"Because he let's me."
Sam had burst out laughing. In his own defence, Dean had pointed out that Cas was always within touching distance. Cas had blushed. It was true. Although Cas wasn't demonstrative in front of others, it didn't matter how much room there was on the couch, he was always wedged right up against Dean. He seemed to need the contact as much as Dean did. Later it had been Cas and Dean's turn to laugh. It turned out having loud sex with the hot guy you were crazy about, in the room nextdoor to your pathetically single brother, was a complete turn-on. Who knew?