A/N: And BOOM! I'm on a roll! I figure if they can ruin the show, with the kind of lazy-assed season 7 writing that episode 17 typefied, then maybe my stories aren't so bad in comparison… *end rant*.
Sam sat cross-legged next to the hideous fibre-optic tree. He pulled a neatly wrapped package from under the tree.
"Dean. For you."
Dean was leaning back against the couch with his eyes closed. He opened one eye at Sam. "Who's it from?"
The corner of Sam's mouth lifted in a smirk. "Well, I guess it's from Santa."
Dean blew a disbelieving breath between his lips but took the gift that Sam passed to him. Dean unceremoniously ripped the paper wrapping down the middle and scrunched the wrapping into a ball as he scooped the gift out. It was a travel picture frame; two small, silver picture frames hinged together so they could stand up on a dresser like an open book. It contained two black and white pictures. One was of Sam and Dean with their dad when they were little. All three of them looked seriously into the camera. Dean guessed Bobby had taken the picture at his place, decades ago. The other was more recent, of Cas and Dean with their arms draped across each other's shoulders. Cas' face was turned towards Dean and scrunched in the beginnings of a laugh. Dean was looking into the camera smirking. Dean remembered Sam had said something funny and clever right before he'd taken that photo with his phone. It was grainy, but it had caught a rare moment when they'd all been happy. Dean rubbed his thumb over the frame. "Thanks…Santa."
Gabriel appeared suddenly out of thin air, startling Sam so much he almost fell flat on his back.
"Doesn't anyone want to know what my gift to you is?"
Sam made a pouty bitchface and refused to answer. Instead he raised demanding eyebrows. Gabriel frowned. "Fine. I'll tell you then." He snapped his fingers then gestured widely "Look around! The apartment is clean! No goo in the bathroom! No dishes in the sink! All their weapons back in the car. All Dean's dirty laundry, not lying in the shower stall in a damp mess, but clean and folded in his bag. You're welcome."
Sam's pout dissolved. "Actually - that's pretty good… Thanks, Gabriel." Gabriel grinned lopsidedly. "Yeah, I'm awesome that way. You ready to go home, old man?"
Sam stood up. "No, wait! We haven't given him his gift yet!" Bobby's brows rose and his mouth stretched into a thin line. "At my age, there's nothing I need that I don't already have."
"Well too bad, 'cause we got you something," Dean held out a squishy, paper-wrapped package, tied with green garden twine. Gabriel leaned against the island that separated the kitchen from the lounge area. "I can wait."
Bobby leaned out of his armchair, took the gift tentatively and looked at Dean expressionlessly for a moment before shaking the packet, squeezing it and sniffing it. Sam chuckled. "Just open it, Bobby." Bobby finally took a breath and tugged the string off. He unrolled the paper and a pair of grey mittens fell out.
Dean turned to Cas with eyes wide in a disbelieving look. Cas glared back with lowered brows in a way that clearly told him not to judge. It was obvious to everyone in the room that Dean had let Cas purchase the gift and it wasn't what Dean would have chosen. Cas turned back towards Bobby as he stooped to pick the mittens up. "The tops flip open, so you can use them if you go hunting, or need to do anything intricate," Cas explained.
Bobby nodded and pulled one on, peeling the top of the mitten back and wriggling his fingers through the opening. "Nice. Real handy. No pun intended. Fleece lined too. Thanks, son."
Cas smiled shyly and felt his face warm at the compliment of being considered family. He felt Dean give his waist a squeeze and squeezed back at Dean's knee.
"This is for you, Cas." Sam passed a boxed gift. It was wrapped in textured grey tissue paper with a shiny matching bow. Dean snorted. "Did you do Santa's wrapping for him, Sam?"
"Shut up, jerk." Sam responded instantly, but relaxed.
It felt heavy to Cas. He gave it a tentative shake before pulling off the tape on the bottom and carefully sliding the box out of the wrapping. He read the box " 'Thermos travel mug. Coffee on the go, that stays hot.'" He gave Sam a wide smile. "Thank you, this is very thoughtful."
"That's okay. Merry Christmas, Cas." Cas was already opening the lid, peering inside and playing with the sliding sip-opening of the cup.
Dean gracelessly tossed a blocky gift, wrapped in gaudy Christmas paper into Sam's lap "Here. That's yours." Sam didn't know what to say. It was obvious by the shortness of speech that Dean was feeling awkward. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet. You don't know what it is."
Sam tried not to smile as he opened the gift. It was a leather-bound journal, not unlike the one their father had kept, but empty and new; the leather still shiny and unscratched. The pages were unmarred by tears, blood, mystery stains and coffee rings.
"We started it off for you," Dean prompted. Sam turned to the first page, intrigued. In Dean's scrawly chicken scratching he could read 'Sam Winchester keeps a tape measure by the bed - so he can measure his sideburns every morning.' In Cas' more even script he read 'Not all those who wander are lost.' Sam wiped a hand over his mouth.
"Oh god," Dean groaned "He's getting weepy."
Sam swung the book in an arc, smacking Dean in the head. "Shut up, you jerk! This is really nice. Thank you." He took advantage of the fact that he was still standing, while Dean was seated on the couch, put Dean in a headlock and messed up his hair before releasing him. Dean smoothed his hair down while scowling at Sam. Cas just watched them affectionately. He knew there was some kind of communication going on there, that he would never quite get the grasp of. He didn't have the shared history. Gabriel caught his eye and grinned, shrugging one shoulder.
"Last one," Sam said pulling the last, large package from under the tree. He read the tag. "Dean. You're being spoiled. It's for you."
Dean grinned and made grabbing motions at Sam without moving from his spot on the couch. He was too tired. Sam dropped the long bulky parcel into his lap and waited as Dean ripped into the wrapping.
"Awesome! One of those huge pump-action water guns! I always wanted one of these!" Bobby, Gabriel and Sam looked at each other in surprise. Cas covered his face and groaned.
"It's for work not play, Dean."
"Nuh-uh! Look! Water balloons! Gabe? Is this from you?" Gabriel held up his hands proclaiming his innocence. "Don't look at me. I think this is Cas' idea."
Dean turned to Cas. "This is really cool! They shoot for, like, hundreds of yards, with the high pressure. But I won't really be able to use it 'til summer- "
"Dean." Cas held his face to focus his attention. "Holy. Water."
"O-o-oh." Dean sat motionless for a second. "I love it. Genius." He leaned in and kissed Cas on the forehead. Gabriel chuckled, not so quietly, in his corner. "Come on, old man. That's our cue." Sam helped Bobby out of the deep armchair. "Next year, we're doing this at my place. I'm getting too old for all this travel."
Dean was already at the kitchen sink, filling the Super-Soaker to test it out.
-oOo-
Cas was embarrassed to find himself yawning widely. "Sorry."
Cas gave another jaw-dislocating yawn, so Dean pulled him from the couch by the hand. "Bedtime for you, chuckles."
He turned to Sam who was switching off the tree for the night. "Good night, Sam." He waved once and led a tired, docile Cas to the guestroom.
Dean changed into his own sleep clothes, while surreptitiously watching Cas groggily change into his own pyjamas, trying to gauge if now was a good time to give him a personally significant gift he'd chosen. Cas had climbed under the covers and was squirming around trying to get comfortable, without irritating his wound, before falling asleep, much like a dog turning in its basket.
"Cas?"
"Mmph?"
"I got you something else." A gift Sam and Bobby knew nothing about. Just between him and Cas.
Cas rolled over to look him in the eye. His brow furrowed a little. "What is it, Dean?" Dean knew he didn't mean the gift. It was a little spooky how well he could read Dean. Dean felt unnaturally sweaty. The idea was great. It was only when it came to actually doing this, that it suddenly seemed impossible, too hard, too momentous a thing.
Dean hesitated, until Cas held up the covers. Suddenly, Dean felt better. Nothing was changing. He climbed under the covers, small box still clutched in his hand. He could give Cas the gift and nothing would change. The gift made no difference. It was the words he wanted to say with the gift that were choking him. He slid in next to Cas, until they were close enough for Cas to rest a hand on Dean's hip. Dean got that breathless feeling he always did when Cas looked at him, with all the barriers down like that.
It was warm and soft and nice, and Dean didn't know when they had started kissing, but that happened to him a lot lately. Cas pulled away a little, exhaling softly against Dean's lips and brushed a hand through Dean's hair. "What is it?" Dean held out the hand with the plain black box in it. This time Cas truly frowned. He propped himself up on an elbow, immediately more awake. He sensed it was something beyond simple appearances, something symbolic, and looked into Dean's eyes. "Should I open this?" It was a loaded question. It gave Dean the option to back out, the chance to explain it away. Dean nodded. He had nothing to fear from Cas. With Cas, what he saw (and thought too good to be true) was what he got.
Cas nodded once, touched his cheek as though to reassure him and looked at the box again.
He flipped back the lid. Inside, nestled in the black satin lining, was a gleaming, silver Zippo lighter, hand-engraved with a finely detailed flaming winged heart, the kind that belonged in an old-fashioned tattoo. It was a beautiful, simple thing that represented them both. Cas ran his fingers over the engraving and removed it from its dark nest. It felt comfortably heavy. He held it flat, weighing it in his palm, then noticed something on the base. In small italic capitals was etched 'Perpetuum tuum est'. 'Always yours.' He flipped the lid and struck it. It lit on the first try, with a bright, clear flame. It stayed lit until the lid was flipped shut. Cas looked at Dean, his eyes shining with emotion.
The gift was incomplete yet. Dean took a few breaths before starting. "I'm not really the commitment type." Dean rubbed his mouth with his sweaty hand. He was so bad at this. Why did he start with the very thing he didn't want to say? He wiped his hands on his pants and continued. "But… I kind of want you to know, that we're…permanent… You're not allowed to just up and leave." Dean bit his lip. He hoped that didn't sound defensive. He wanted Cas to know he belonged, but Dean sucked at communicating. He looked back up, hoping Cas would stop him with a kiss or something, but Cas watched and waited, sensing there was more. Dean looked for disappointment or confusion, but all he saw was patience and a little curiosity. "I guess I wanted you to know …that I wanna keep you. That I want you to stay. That you're safe … with me. That no-one else is allowed to…'covet' you."
The corner of Cas' mouth curled up mischievously. " 'Covet' me? They may covet me all they wish. They can't have me."
He placed the lighter carefully into its box and placed it on the bedside table. He put his hand over Dean's and turned it over. He kissed Dean's fingertips, Dean's palm, the inside of his wrist. "Sumus animae indivisi, Dean," he said in a low voice, "…carissimus meus." *
"Cas, if you're trying to sound sexy with all the Latin - mission accomplished." Cas' smile turned into a laugh. Dean smiled back, hugging him warmly. Cas understood. Dean didn't want to be serious about being 'serious'. The fierce tightness of the hug told Cas all he needed to know.
*"Our souls are one, my most belovéd."