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Gabe: Cas never came home after his final yesterday.
Sam: Uh, yeah. He's at my place then, I'm positive.
Queen C: Finally! I hope they're working their shit out
John: Isn't this about the time that Dean usually, uh…
Bobby: You can say "heat" you idjit, it's not a dirty word
Queen C: it is if you do it right
Sam: Ugh, please don't start.
Gabe: If that's the case I'm looking forward to collecting from all of you.
Sam: Nope. I still think it'll be after the new year.
Queen C: Exactly. On Dean's birthday. Just like I predicted.
Bobby: Neither one is getting their head outta their ass before next year, trust me
John: I'm so glad I decided to abstain
Gabe: I hope they aren't. My wallet needs Deano to have some teeth marks by Christmas.
Sam: Cas was dead set against being there for his heat, so I can't imagine he'll give in so easily
John: No matter what, are we all still in for the Christmas gift bet?
* * *
Dean already knows when he wakes up that he's going to have the greatest Christmas of his life so far, because he's already got his arms wrapped around the best gift he's ever received. Cas is warm in his arms, back against Dean's chest with their legs tangled together, the arm beneath him curled up to hold Dean's hand where it lays against his stomach. He's breathing softly, and Dean just lays still for a while longer in the semi-darkness, listening to the passage of air across his lips as he dreams.
Eventually the call of nature can no longer be ignored, and he carefully disentangles himself from the sleeping form of his mate. Cas grumbles a little but doesn't really wake, instead rolling into the space Dean has vacated and curling up into a ball. Dean heads into the bathroom to take care of business, and by the time he emerges from the shower twenty minutes later Cas is sitting up in bed, blinking sleepily as he looks at his phone.
"What time do we have to be at Bobby's?" he asks huskily, the gravelly pitch of his voice making Dean wish he'd never gotten out of bed. Instead he leans over to give him a kiss on the temple.
"I was going to head over now and get started on breakfast, but you can go back to sleep for a little while if you want. With the exception of Charlie, no one else will be up at the crack of dawn clamoring to open presents."
Cas looks up and gives him a soft smile, his hair a disheveled tumble of dark locks and one side of his face still imprinted with a crease from his pillow.
"I'll just shower and meet you over there in a bit so I can help you."
"You mean so you can get fresh coffee?"
"That's just a bonus," Cas says, kicking the blankets off his legs and getting out of the bed. "The real prize is having you feed me," he calls over his shoulder as he heads into the bathroom, and Dean laughs quietly to himself as he gets dressed and to go down into the main house.
Sure enough, he can hear movement out in the living room as he enters the kitchen from the garage. He leaves the lights off as he gets the coffee brewing, moving quietly in the grey morning filtering through the curtains. Once the coffee starts brewing, he tiptoes into the dining room until he can peer into the room beyond, where a giant tree now occupies the far corner. There's a small figure crouched in front of the tree, diligently holding packages up to the twinkling lights to read the tags and then sorting them into piles.
"How old are you again?" he teases, and Charlie's head whips around so fast that she falls onto her butt. She frowns up at him as he laughs.
"I hope you started the coffee before you gave me a butt bruise," she pouts, holding a hand up to him as he comes into the room. Dean pulls her off the floor and into a hug, lifting her off the ground a few inches as she squeals.
"What are you doing?" he asks as he releases her, and she bounces on the balls of her feet in excitement.
"I'm sorting all the gifts by recipient to save time when we open them!" she says, her eyes dancing in delight so infectious that he can't suppress a grin.
"Well, come get a cup of coffee before you get back to work. Cas will be over in a bit and I'm going to make breakfast for everybody." He takes her by the hand and pulls her back into the kitchen after him, shoving her gently in the direction of the coffee pot. By the time Cas stumbles into the kitchen twenty minutes later, she's perched cross-legged on one end of the counter in her plaid footie pajamas, sipping from a mug as Dean makes pancake after perfect pancake.
"Hey there, Captain Chaos," she chirps to him, ruffling his still disheveled mop of hair as he gets himself a cup of coffee. "What time is your brother getting here?" Castiel shrugs as he inhales the caffeinated steam from his mug and takes a sip. By the time Gabe arrives ten minutes later, John and Bobby are awake and setting the table as Sam yawns his way into the kitchen from the garage.
They sit around the table in almost the same positions as they did on Thanksgiving Day, except now Cas is seated next to Dean instead of Sam. They unconsciously sit closer together than necessary, but nobody teases them about it. Charlie is practically bouncing in her seat through the whole meal, and when everyone's plates are empty she jumps up and drags Gabe back into the living room with her to finish sorting presents.
"Sometimes I swear that girl is ten years younger than she appears," Bobby mutters under his breath, but he's smiling even as he says it. Table cleared and dishes in the sink, the entire group finally retire to the den to open gifts.
As they rip open their various packages, Dean thinks about all the fractured ways they spent Christmas last year. Sam had stayed in California because he didn't want Bobby to be alone, and Dean and John had Charlie come for dinner and Die Hard. Cas and Gabe had endured an uncomfortable dinner with their parents where they'd hardly spoken to one another, too wrapped up in their own resentments. Now the seven of them were all together, a family made as much from circumstance and shared fate than blood.
"Now this one," John says, pulling Dean out of his thoughts by placing a large bundle in his lap. "Is just a prototype that I've put together for you and Cas." Dean eyes him warily, since every gift so far that's for both of them has been of questionable taste: a gift certificate for a couple's massage from Bobby, edible body paints and underwear from Sam and Charlie, and a beginner's bondage kit from Gabe. Cas gives him a look of trepidation, and Dean leans into him for reassurance before he opens the gift.
Inside the paper is another layer of bubble wrap, and he opens it carefully, half expecting what's inside to bite him. It seems to be a large block of wood, with two protrusions on one end, and one flat side padded in leather. Dean turns it over in his hands, seeing that the unpadded side has a couple of spots carved out in the center, symmetrical to each other, with tiny bits of metal in them. He looks at Cas, who has his head tilted and his brow furrowed in confusion.
"It's my design for the headboard I'm going to make the two of you," John says with a smirk, and Dean breathes a sigh of relief.
"Wow, Dad, that sounds great!" He positions it now with the two protrusions pointing down and rests them on the floor, the leather side facing him. "Is this the same type of leather you're going to use? I like the color."
"Oh, that's not the front, son. That part will go against the wall." John reaches over and spins it around so the other side is facing Dean. "This will be the front."
"I don't understand. Why would you pad the back with leather?"
"Sound buffering," John says with a completely straight face, and Dean blushes all the way to the roots of his hair. "It'll be heavily padded and covered with a durable leather, so you don't disturb the neighbors. And on the front here I'm going to mount a pair of motorcycle handlebars, but they'll be recessed unless you need them. Wouldn't want you banging your head off them in the middle of the night, would we?"
"Why would our headboard need handlebars?" Cas asks before Dean can stop him.
"So Dean has something to hold onto for leverage as you ride him into the sunset, Cassie!" Gabe squeals in delight, and Dean has gone from feeling blessed all day to wishing he were dead.
"Uh-oh, Gabe, I think you've been beaten this time," Charlie says.
"Oh, I'm absolutely thrilled to concede this one to the paterfamilias. So far all we've been able to do is get Cas to blush a little and Deano to shake his head, and now they're both as bright red as Santa's ass!" He pulls some folded bills out of his pocket and drops them next to John, and Dean sees two twenties.
"Not again," he groans, and Sam starts laughing so hard he falls over into Charlie, who is giggling like a hyena and struggling to catch her breath. Even Bobby has a grin on his grizzled face from where he sits in his easy chair, and John is grinning wide enough to split his face in two.
"Sorry, Deano. Winner was whoever could give you the most embarrassing gift and damn, your daddy sure does play for keeps!"
"I hate all of you," Dean exhales before he realizes that Cas is shaking next to him, and he turns to see him with both hands over his mouth trying desperately not to burst out laughing himself. "Et tu, Castiel?" He whispers, and that does it.
"I'm sorry, Dean!" He manages to squeak out before he erupts in peals of laughter, lying on his side on the floor. Dean sighs in resignation, and John claps him good-naturedly on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, kiddo. I made you an actual gift to hold you over until I can get the full size headboard finished." He pulls another small package out from under the couch behind him and hands it to Dean. "No tricks in there this time, I promise."
Dean raises and eyebrow in disbelief but tears open the paper anyway as Cas sits up, wiping tears from his eyes as he recovers. It's a piece of carved wood about a foot long, and it's a single word he doesn't know: Destiel.
"What's this?" he asks curiously as Cas leans in to peer at it.
"It's your ship name!" Charlie says excitedly. "We chose it back at Thanksgiving!"
"I didn't choose that, I still say we should have gone with CasDean," Sam says petulantly.
"Well you got outvoted, ya idjit, so suck it up."
Dean runs his fingers over the smooth wood, polished like a treasure before being stained and sealed with a glossy finish. He turns to smile at Cas, who leans up to give him a soft kiss before he turns to John.
"So does this mean we don't get the headboard with the handlebars?"
"Cas!"
"Well," John interrupts. "Since I'll actually be living out here now, you'll both be able to come over and consult with me as I build it. How's that sound?"
"You're what?" Dean says in disbelief, and John shrugs.
"Been packing everything up these last few weeks, put it all in one of them fancy pod things that they ship and store for you. Bobby's gonna let me stay here with him while I look for a new place. The Kansas house is on the market as we speak, so I'll have to fly back once she gets sold, but otherwise I'm here to stay."
Dean leans up to pull his Dad into a hug, and John huffs a laugh as he pats Dean on the back.
"No handlebars," Dean grumbles.