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For a minute, Dean stood outside, shoes soaking with snow. It was a biting winter night and his coat was missing two buttons. The lights of the townhouse seemed to flicker and sway with warmth. The porch was strung with fairy lights in the full color spectrum. He grit his teeth, wishing he could rip the festive lights off the rain gutters, fizzle out their rainbow brightness in the snow.
Two weeks ago, he had almost missed the invitation, creamy white paper jammed between brittle coupon sheets and cardstock advertisements, 20% off for a limited time only! Sam had been over, a lazy Sunday night with an empty six pack on the floor (the score was Sam: 3, Dean: 4). Sam had the messy stack of mail off the coffee table and was laid on the living room rug. He was playing announcer, booming its contents like it was Monday night football. He kept crumpling them up too, throwing them at Dean. Dean had just laid on the couch with an arm over his eyes, half-watching his brother from beneath his elbow. Sober Sam would never act like this, making a mess and being loud. Too different from his gentle giant nature. Drunk Sam was like having a second brother. You mean third. Dean pushed his arm down tighter, pressing against the bridge of his nose.
“Man, Dean, you have a stupid amount of bills.” Sam snorted, throwing another one. It looped in the air and landed on the couch. Dean kicked it off.
“That’s exactly what the mail guy said, right before he spit in my face.”
Sam gave a half-hearted chuckle, the drunk, I only kind of understood what you just said kind. And then it cut off, no soft fadeout to ease it into quiet. Only laughter: silence. Dean moved his arm.
And there it was, crinkling its cardstock in his brother’s giant hands. Those hands, normally so delicate, gentle with everything in case he pressed a little too hard and broke something. Those hands were about to break through the invitation.
Dean sat up. His head went light, four beers trying to have some kind of effect. Fat chance.
“What is it? Sam?”
Sam, through clenched teeth: “’John and Kate Winchester invite you to join them for a Christmas celebration.” The paper ripped.
“Lemme see that.” Dean grabbed the sheet, Sam’s grip shredding it further.
Yeah, there it was alright, gold script – script, for crying out loud – spelling out his father’s name like it wasn’t ugly. It could try and disguise itself under as many loops and swirls as it wanted but John Winchester was always going to hold itself violently.
Dean crumpled up the sheet and threw it at the empty beer bottles. With the garbage, where it belongs, that’s what he’d told Sam, who gave a small quirk of the corner of his mouth, a quick work of the jaw, chewing down his rage or whatever he was feeling. Even Drunk Sam wasn’t going to tell Dean about his emotions.
Now, Dean shivered and tucked his hands deeper into his pockets. He approached the door, pressing the Impala key into his finger with each step. He glanced down the block at Baby parked in the snow, street light glinting off her paint. Too bad he didn’t have a getaway driver, just in case.
He knocked. One clean tap. Dean swayed on his feet, knocked salt off his boots while he waited. No answer. If they don’t answer after fifteen minutes, you’re legally allowed to leave. Sam would’ve rolled his eyes, called that a public school myth.
Dean knocked once more, a half-hearted try this time. Maybe it wouldn’t be heard over merry, merry chatter around the cranberry sauce. That’d be a Christmas miracle. The door swung open. Dean had never believed in miracles, anyway.
“Hey, you made it!” Kate said, a holiday cheer smile pushing up her cheeks.
Dean tried to mimic the smile. It came out a grimace. He followed Kate inside, through the front hall. His reflection haunted him through the picture frame glass every second step. How many cheesy family photos did you need, anyway? His pale shadow on the glass was the only way Dean was making an appearance in those pictures. Sam was nowhere to be found.
They stepped into the kitchen, where John was sipping a beer – typical , Dean almost snorted.
“Deano! Glad you could join us.” John said, setting the beer down and clapping his hands together.
Dean gave a tight-lipped smile, a dismissive nod.
“We almost didn’t hear you knocking.” Kate said.
“Real shame that would’ve been.” Dean replied.
They stood there – John, Kate, Dean – an awkward triangle under the heavy kitchen light glow, swaying on their feet. Dean made a point to look at the food splayed on the counter in their nice dishes – Mom’s dishes , he remembered – while John and Kate exchanged a glance.
Kate forced another bright smile as Dean looked back at her. “Well, you’re the first one here so it’s going to be a bit before we dig in. Your brother is downstairs though, if you’d like to go see him. I think he’d like that.”
John jumped in. “Yeah, maybe you could give him a run for his money on that xbox of his.”
Then they were both nodding at him with get out of here eyes, the social equivalent of them pushing him down the stairs with their bare hands. Dean trudged down into the basement, chewing the word brother and tasting only bitterness.
Adam, as promised, sat in the basement, sunken in a vinyl bean bag. His eyes glazed, his mouth gaped, and his fingers moved as if of their own free will, quick on the draw and smashing the controller buttons repeatedly. Some stupid game flashed on the screen. Dean stood on the last step down and cleared his throat. Adam turned his head.
“Hey, kiddo,” Dean said. He took off his jacket, threw it over the back of the couch and joined Adam on the floor, sinking into the other bean bag. His knees popped and Adam laughed.
“Hey, old man,” He cracked, resuming his xbox stare.
Dean grabbed another controller. “Hey, I ain’t old. An old guy couldn’t kick your ass at-” He squinted at the screen, “Whatever the hell this is, like I’m about to.”
Adam rolled his eyes but smiled. “It’s Red Dead Redemption Two and you’re definitely not about to win.”
Dean settled in. “Bring it on, brewster.”
It wasn’t Adam’s fault, this unwanted relation. It definitely wasn’t his fault that it got sprung on Dean, no warning. So Dean gave him the older brother treatment - noogies, dumb jokes, taking his side when John wouldn’t, video games, the whole gambit.
The problem was John. His letters, his phone calls, his emails, they stopped completely in Sam’s second year at Stanford. And that was fine. Sam and Dean could finally stop holding their breath when they checked their inboxes. They were ready to move on and say their family stopped with just them, just us two . But in all that time, all those messages, all the begging for forgiveness, and unrequited life updates John sent, none of them bore any mention of their half-brother.
Dean glanced over at Adam now and all he could see was the kid from a few months ago. He had worn a fishing hat and lingered at the end of Dean’s hospital bed while John hovered bedside like a drug-fueled mirage. Dean couldn’t help but think that John must have been grateful for the stars aligning in such a way that he was the one at Dean’s bedside, not Sam. Not that stars or fate had anything to do with it; just an inflamed appendix and an outdated emergency contact sheet.
“Ha!” Adam yelled. “Told you you’d lose.”
Dean rolled his eyes and dropped the controller. “Pop Galaga in there and let’s see who the loser is then.”
“What’s Galaga ?” Adam asked absently, queuing up another round.
“ What’s Galaga ?” Dean repeated in disbelief. This generation, so tasteless. He waved his hands. “I can’t even- I’m gonna go see how the food’s coming along. You just keep-” He gestured at the screen vaguely and got up, knees popping.
More people had poured in while Dean had been downstairs. They loitered now, talking delightedly, glasses of wine and booze in their hands. John and Kate were distracted, making the host rounds. It was louder in here now, anyway, with music playing from the living room. Maybe he could slip out, just for a minute. That wasn’t against the rules, right?
The front hall was quiet as Dean headed for the front door, coming up with excuses for his absence. Needed a smoke, fresh air, had to get something from my car, was about to escape and drive home- Just before he could reach for the handle, the door swung open and caught Dean right in the face. He stumbled back, blinking at the shock of pain.
“ Jack! ” A rough voice called from the porch.
A teenage boy - Adam’s age, probably - stood by the door, horrified as he looked at Dean.
“I’m sorry,” The kid said, stepping inside, “I didn’t think anyone would be- The sign said ‘come in’ and- I’m so so sorry.”
“No problem,” Dean said, shaking his head as if that would fix the pain. “I needed to clear my head anyway. Thanks for the help.”
A man - a little blurry, out of focus - stepped in behind Jack, clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go find Adam?” He said.
Jack nodded and moved past Dean down the hall. He paused for a moment and turned back.
“I really am sorry.” He said. Then he was gone.
Dean turned back to the stranger, framed against the dark outside. His heart seemed to jump directly into his throat as he came into focus. Not a stranger. It was Cas. Castiel. The Christmas lights lit his dark hair in multicolor light, glinting on the snowy shoulders of his overcoat. He closed the door behind himself and looked at Dean, head tilted.
“Are you alright, Dean?” He asked, stepping closer.
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I'm fine. Wasn't expecting to get punched in the face tonight but, yeah, I'm cool.”
The man nodded. “Do you mind if I take a look at you?”
Dean raised a brow. “Uh, I get that it’s been awhile but really-”
“I'm a doctor, remember?” Castiel laughed, taking off his coat. He reached in his pocket for something and Dean could see the badge clipped to one of his belt loops.
“Oh. Right. You just get off work?” Dean asked as Cas stepped closer, clicking on a pen light.
“Yes,” He sighed. “I picked up my son right after work and came straight here.”
“Ah, so the kid who just hit me with a door, he’s yours?” Dean said, following the light with his eyes.
The man nodded. “Most people see the resemblance immediately. Any ringing in your ears? Nausea?”
“Nope.”
The pen light clicked off. “Well, I think you're clear of a concussion, though I'd like to keep an eye on you, if that's alright. Were you on your way out?”
Dean blinked the light out of his eyes. Shook his head. “I was just stepping outside to…”
He fumbled on the word as the light circles cleared from his vision and he could see Cas close. Man, it really had been too long since he’d seen Cas. He’d always been attractive, no doubt, but now Dean was scrambling for some excuse to have been leaving and only coming up with synonyms for ‘handsome,’ like, ‘hot,’ ‘super hot,’ ‘crazy stupid hot,’ or-
“Smokin’.” Dean said. “I mean, to smoke. I was going outside to smoke.” He gave an awkward chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Which isn’t something I should be telling a doctor, I guess.”
The man raised an eyebrow, like Dean was totally insane and the insanity was amusing to him. He gave a half-smile and chuckled.
“Well, right now, I’m just Castiel, not ‘doctor.’ I don’t mind if you smoke, though I wouldn’t necessarily condone it.”
Dean smiled. “Good answer, doc.”
Castiel put his hands in his pockets and nodded to Dean, a dismissal. “Enjoy your cigarette.” He turned on his heel and headed down the hall in a brisk, doctorly stride.
Dean sunk down onto the stairs and touched his upper lip, just to see if there was blood. There wasn’t. A doctor wouldn’t leave you here bleeding, idiot. Dean glanced down the hall. Standing outside seemed a lot less appealing now, especially with Cas inside. Anyway, it’s not like he smoked anymore. Dean got up and went back down the hall.
Already, Castiel had been caught in John’s grasp, shaking hands in the kitchen. John clapped a hand on Castiel’s shoulder before backing up. It was a weird combo, John and Castiel, a flashback to graduation. He remembered the way John had grabbed onto Cas like he was his own son, beaming with pride. He definitely remembered John telling Dean how lucky he was to have the valedictorian as his best friend. Mostly he remembered how great a kisser Cas had been at the graduation party, the PG-13 one, no parental supervision.
“Dean!” John said, spotting him lingering in the doorway. “Look who I found.”
Castiel grinned broadly as Dean joined them, John slapping a hand on Dean’s back.
Regardless of the fact that they literally just did this song and dance, Castiel reached out to shake Dean’s hand.
“Nice to see you again, Dean.”
“You too, Doc.”
John rubbed his beard. “So, Castiel, things still goin’ well with Nick?”
Castiel shifted on his feet, putting a hand in his pocket with his coat draped over his arm. He glanced at Dean.
“Um, we aren’t seeing each other anymore, actually.”
He looked so, so uncomfortable. That brilliant smile from a minute ago was gone, no trace. He seemed like he was folding into himself. John frowned.
“Sorry to hear it. But, you know there are plenty of other fish in the sea. Like Dean here,” John said, shaking Dean by the shoulder for emphasis. “He’s single and you know what a catch he is.”
Oh come on , Dean thought. John just carried on.
“And he’s like you too! He’s a- oh what do you call it?”
Dean and Cas stared at him.
“You know, the one where ya like men and women?” John said.
Dean blinked. Come on .
“Bisexual.” Cas said.
John snapped his fingers and pointed at Castiel. “That’s the one. Bisexual. What’re the odds, huh?”
Dean didn’t know who would melt into a puddle of embarrassment first: him or Cas. It was really a toss up. Castiel had a freakin’ hundred yard stare and his face was flushing. But Dean’s dad was standing here pitching him as a romantic prospect to his best friend from high school so the playing field seemed pretty even. Dean shrugged off John’s hand and nodded to Cas.
“Hey, let me show you where you can put your coat.” Dean said.
Cas instantly relaxed and nodded in agreement. He thanked John for having him and followed Dean into the basement. Dean’s coat still hung over the couch arm, the only jacket in the room. Apparently Dean was wrong about this being the designated coat room but, like, whatever. It’s not like he lived here. Adam and Jack slumped in their bean bags and played their game in slack-jaw silence.
“Thank you,” Castiel said, dropping his ugly - yeah, it was ugly - overcoat on top of Dean’s jacket.
“No problem, man. You know he - John - he can be kind of…” Dean trailed off as he leaned against the wall. He waved his hand vaguely, put whatever word you want at the end of that sentence.
Cas nodded sagely and stood beside Dean. He watched Jack shake his xBox controller and lean to the side as though he could control the game like that. He was Not Looking at Dean.
“I didn’t expect him to bring up my romantic involvements,” Cas said.
“And I didn’t expect him to try and pimp me out to ya.” Dean snorted.
“Who was pimping who out?” Adam asked, not turning from the screen.
“Hey,” Dean said, snapping his fingers, “No eavesdropping, kid.”
Cas slouched over to the sofa and slumped down, heaving a sigh. Dean slumped next to him, maybe a bit too close, right where their thighs could line up if one of them shifted just right. They sat there, watching Jack and Adam play their game, silent save for the ambient noises from the tv and upstairs.
“So you have a kid now.” Dean said, softer so the teenagers couldn’t hear.
Cas nodded. “Yes I do.”
“Huh.”
“‘Huh,’ what?”
Cas was looking at him almost accusingly, a vitriolic stare that made Dean throw his hands up.
“Nothing, nothing. Just, it’s weird. Last I saw you, you were still slammin’ Jäger and-” Dean laughed. “And the only food you knew how to make was a PB&J. It’s just kind of hard to see that guy raising a kid, you know?”
Cas’ defensive papa bear look was gone now, replaced with a sort of amusement. He nodded and toyed with a bracelet on his wrist.
“College was a different time.” Cas said. “Besides, I’ve had a lot of practice raising him.”
“He seems like a great kid.”
“He is.” Cas nodded. “So, how about you?”
“Am I a great kid?” Dean snorted.
“Do you have any kids?”
Dean glanced down at his hands, absently spinning the silver ring on his right hand. How lame would it sound, being thirty-five with no kids, no wife, no husband, nothing on the horizon? He settled for shaking his head, a soft nah . Cas simply hmm ed.
“I thought you and Lisa would have been married by now.” Cas said. Maybe Dean misheard, maybe he was being tainted by the frustrated trash talk Jack and Adam were hurling at the tv, but he could’ve sworn he heard resentment between those lines.
“We stopped goin’ out around Christmas after we graduated.” Dean said, brushing off whatever he thought that was.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, she, uh,” Was now really the time to bring this up? Too many years too late? “She kept askin’ me to stop hanging around a certain friend and I couldn’t do it, you know?”
Cas met his eyes. “I know. That’s too much to ask. Especially for you.”
Dean gave a quiet laugh. “Right? Funny thing is, that friend stopped talking to me before I could tell ‘em Lisa and I broke up.”
Neither of them said a word. Dean leaned against the couch, tried to cool his jets. Beside him, Cas was practicing a whole stone sculpture routine, sitting perfectly still.
“Why did she ask you to…” Cas tried.
“She thought I had a crush on them.”
“...did you?”
I am thirty-five years old and I am talking about having a crush. It was just as stupid a concept in his twenties as it was now. And yet, Dean had to answer, had to let him know.
“Big time.”
They split up almost directly after they went back upstairs. There were too many people who wanted to meet Dean or Cas, not Dean and Cas. Not that it mattered, Dean thought. Every now and then, he caught Cas looking at him from across the room as they both chatted up strangers.
Dean finally managed to escape the grasp of a redhead woman, Abby, who kept running her fingers through his hair. Normally, he would’ve been down for it but there was a crazy edge to her lipstick smile that he wasn’t in the mood for. Now, he leaned against a counter in the kitchen, shoveling pumpkin pie in his face. He was busy with spraying whipped cream on top of another slice when Adam came in.
“How’s the party goin’ for you?” Dean asked, capping the canister.
Adam shrugged and pulled two plates from the cupboard. “Fine. Jack and I are trying to pick a movie to watch when everyone leaves. You’re staying, right?”
Dean checked the time. He didn’t have to be at Sam and Jess’ place until ten. A half-hour later, Dean found himself leaning under the archway to the living room, watching Adam and Jack bicker over movie choices in front of the tv. Kate sat curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and looking at ease with most everyone gone. John and Cas came up behind Dean, wrapping up a conversation. John went to sit by Kate and Cas leaned against the other side of the arch.
“Havin’ a good time?” Dean asked.
Cas nodded. “How about you? Did you ever get your ‘smoke?’”
He actually used finger quotes. Dean had to laugh.
“No, I didn't.” He glanced at Cas. He had this rumpled, relaxed thing going, all messy hair and wrinkled shirt. Cas glanced at him, saw him staring. Dean cleared his throat. “I, uh, I actually quit a few years back.”
Cas smiled and man, he had straight teeth. His eyes wrinkled and Dean had to tell himself to pull it together.
“So what was the ‘smokin'’ thing about?”
He watched as Dean started blushing. Dean ran a hand over his head, ruffling his hair.
“Well, uh,” Dean let out a shaky laugh. “I just got hit in the face by a door. I forgot I didn’t smoke anymore, you know how it is.”
Cas raised a brow at him, like he knew how it was but he wasn’t sure Dean did.
“How’s the head, by the way? Any symptoms?”
“Nah, I think we’re in the clear, doc.”
Dean glanced back at John and Kate, sitting close on the couch. Kate leaned her back against the arm of the couch, her slippered feet in John’s lap. She was talking so expressively, hands waving about like crazy. And there was John, watching her with such affection. Dean had only seen him look at Mary like that. He wondered what his mom would think, seeing John make heart eyes at this woman.
“-so McCloud and her kept stopping,” Kate was saying, “And it was like two animals. I swear, every time I looked over there-” She looked pointedly at where Dean and Castiel were standing, leaning against the archway. Her eyebrows went up. John turned to look too.
“Wouldja look at that?” John said.
“Look at what?” Dean and Cas asked, in unison.
Jack and Adam both turned from their DVD selections to check out the commotion. Adam started laughing instantly. Dean stood up straighter, pushing off the wall. They were all staring at him and Castiel.
“Is that mistletoe?” Jack asked, pointing to a spot above Dean and Cas.
Cas looked over to Dean, eyes wide, cautious all around. There was, in fact, mistletoe right above them. It was a bundle of green, wrapped up in red string. Dean felt his stomach drop.
It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss Cas. Looking at Cas - just Cas, not the people watching them - he did want to. He really, really wanted to feel that scruff, that bow of a mouth. But Cas’ eyes, they were panicked to say the least.
So Dean did the classy thing and raised his hand for a high five. Cas obliged, shoulders relaxing as Jack and Adam cracked up. Then Cas was turning, headed back to the privacy of the kitchen. Dean followed.
Aaand immediately he realized, hey maybe I shouldn't have tailed the guy . Castiel was at the sink, back to Dean, staring into the stack of crusty dishes.
Dean wasn't sure what option was worse: going back to face his family with his cheeks this red or staying in here with a guy who looked nauseated at the idea of kissing him. He thought of Adam’s laughter. Here was better. He leaned against the fridge and sighed.
Personally, Dean didn’t get the big deal. Sure, making out in front of his estranged father and stepfamily and Cas’ kid wasn’t ideal but it was just a kiss. And it wasn’t like it’d be the first time they’d ever done it.
“Sorry about that,” Dean tried.
No answer.
This is ridiculous.
“You know,” Dean started, “Maybe I’m missing something here, but what’s the issue?”
“Excuse me?” Cas said into the sink.
“I mean, it was just a stupid kiss, Cas. It’s not like we had to go full HBO.”
Cas turned around, leaned his hips against the sink’s edge. His mouth was set, a firm line of silence. He was just looking at Dean, cheeks a little pink.
“What’s the problem, man?” Dean asked, tossing his hands up.
Cas ran a hand over his jaw, glanced away. “It wasn’t you.”
“Well, then what was it?”
Cas rolled his eyes and squinted at Dean, are you that stupid? “Dean, my son was sitting right there. I’m not just going to kiss someone because I want to, not right in front of him. Not until it’s serious.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Cas sighed.
Dean pushed off his spot on the fridge, moved closer to Cas. Just two steps away. Personal space and all that.
“Nah, I get it. He’s young. You don’t want him getting the wrong idea, getting attached, I get it.”
“Yes.”
“But…” Dean said, swaying on his heels, hands in his pockets.
Cas raised a brow. “But what?”
“But you wanted to.”
“Wanted to what?”
Dean stepped closer. “Kiss me.”
There was that head tilt but Cas didn’t step away. Didn’t even lean back. He raised his chin.
“Did I?”
“You just said you did.”
Cas shrugged, glanced away. “You can’t always get what you want, as they say.”
“And sometimes you can.”
Dean stepped closer, that final step. Maybe Dean was the one moving in but Cas was the one with the heavier gaze, the one with the power here. He could push Dean away no problem - Cas had wicked upper body strength and great biceps, if Dean said so himself. But Cas could also pull him in and that made Dean’s heart race. Cas raised a hand.
A phone started to ring, a dirty shred of guitar between them. Their gazes both dropped to Dean’s pocket as he fished his phone out. Cas’ hand fell back, pressing into the counters edge.
“Hey, Sammy. What’s goin’ on?” Dean said into the phone.
“Dean, hey. Jess and I have been waiting. Where are you?”
Crap. The crumpled invitation came to mind, paper white against a herd of beer bottles. Sam didn’t know. He didn’t know about the crappy after-Thanksgiving party Dean had come over for and he definitely didn’t know Dean would actually be here tonight, as if he had a choice.
“Nowhere, nowhere. I’m, uh, I’m on my way now. I’ll be there in a few. Hang tight.”
He threw his phone back into his pocket and stepped away from Cas, ran his hands through his hair.
“Um. I should probably get going,” Dean said.
Cas nodded, glanced at his watch. “Me too.”
“You got any crazy plans tonight?” Dean asked, headed to the basement. Cas followed.
“If you call drinking wine and watching a documentary crazy, then yes. Adam is sleeping here tonight and I’m officially off duty for the evening, so I’ll finally get to sit down for a bit.”
Dean grabbed Cas’ jacket and tossed it to him before shrugging on his own.
“Sounds nice. Sam and I are gonna be doin’ pretty much the same thing, sans the documentary. His girlfriend has never seen A Christmas Story , can you believe that?”
“I’ve never seen it either. Is it good?” Cas asked, leading the way up the stairs. Dean grabbed his arm to stop him.
“You’ve never seen A Christmas Story? ”
“No…”
“Dude! It’s a classic. You gotta give it a go.”
Cas smiled. “Maybe I will.”
John and Kate joined them at the door. Jack stopped in for a quick hug from his dad before going directly back to the living room. John slapped Dean and Cas on the back.
“Sorry we made ya uncomfortable back there.” He said.
That was a very un-John Winchester thing to do, apologizing. He hadn’t apologized for the drinking and neglect, but whatever. This could be a start.
“It’s alright. You didn’t do it on purpose,” Cas said.
Kate gave them each a hug and then they were out the door.
The world was quieter, the way it only ever is when it is nighttime and there is fresh snow coating the ground and drifting under the glow of streetlights against the dark. Dean and Cas walked down the path side by side, their steps muffled by the snow. They reached the sidewalk and paused, unwilling to part just yet.
“I hope you and Sam have fun.”
“You too, man.”
They swayed there still, snow falling into their hair. Dean couldn’t help it. Cas was here again and looking so beautiful with red cheeks and Christmas lights shining on him from all directions. He wanted to reach out, hold him close.
Cas smiled and stepped away.
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”
Then he turned, started down the street towards wherever he parked his car, the opposite direction of Baby.
“Merry Christmas, Cas.” Dean murmured.
He watched Cas walking through the snow and he couldn’t help but wonder, was this it? One night after who knows how long of radio silence? Was he just going to let Cas walk away, again?
“Cas!”
He turned and Dean’s heart just raced.
“Come with me.” Dean said. “To Sam and Jess’. Come with me.”
Cas tilted his head at Dean. His hands were in his pockets and he looked down the street toward his car before looking back at Dean.
“What will Sam say?”
Dean threw his head back and laughed. “He’ll say ‘Castiel, I missed you so much. Please joy me, my wife, and my brother for your first viewing of A Christmas Story. ’”
Cas smiled. “Okay.”
If it had been years since he’d seen Cas, it had been even longer since he’d seen Cas sitting in the passenger’s side of the Impala. He fidgeted with the heat while Dean started the engine.
Dean flipped off the Winchester-Millgan house as they drove by. He couldn’t help it. It was practically tradition. At least, tradition in the sense that he did it last time he was here. Cas laughed.
“What was that about?”
“You know I’ve never liked him. Besides, he’s ascended to new heights of douche-baggery.”
“Oh?” Cas asked, still amused.
“Yeah. I got appendicitis at the end of October. The stupid thing was about to rupture when I went to the ER. So the docs give me a bunch of drugs and next thing I know, I’m waking to Winchester and Son in my room.”
Cas raised a brow. “His big crime was showing up at the hospital when you were ill?”
“Nah, that was a minor charge on his sheet. The blackmailing, that’s the big crime.”
“Sorry?”
“Yeah, so uh, my insurance was craptastic andd my little hospital visit was gonna cost me a ton outta pocket. So John swoops in and just pays it. Then he says I gotta start showin’ up at Kate’s parties and whatever.”
“That’s terrible.” Cas said.
Dean shrugged as he turned onto Sam’s street. “Ain’t all bad. You’d be drinking wine alone right now if I hadn’t been there.” Dean laughed.
Cas grinned. “I suppose so.”
Dean pulled into the driveway behind Jess’ car and turned the car off. Cas went to get out but Dean grabbed his sleeve.
“Hey, uh, listen. Sam doesn’t know that I went to John’s tonight. Could we maybe keep that between us?”
“Why doesn’t Sam know?” Cas asked, pulling the door shut.
Dean ruffled his hair. “Because. I mean, he’d be pissed, you know? And then he’d probably try and pay John back to get me out of this and… He’s got a wife now, and a house,” He gestured at the small brick house in front of them, strung with Christmas lights. “And he’s still trying to pay off Stanford.”
Cas had his brows wrinkled as he looked at the dash, unsure. Dean patted his shoulder.
“Trust me, it’s better if he doesn’t know.”
Cas shrugged. “It’s not my place to tell him.” Then he got out of the car and started toward the door. Dean trudged after him.
Jess was the one to open the door, the wreath swaying as she yanked it open.
“Dean!” She wrapped him in a hug then held him at arm’s length. “You’re late.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“And you brought a friend!” She said, turning her megawatt smile on Cas.
Cas stuck his hand out. “Castiel Novak. I hope I’m not intruding.”
Jess brushed his hand aside and pulled him into a hug. “Not at all. Thanks for joining us. You guys can come on in, it’s freezing out here.”
They followed Jess inside, stamping the snow off their boots and shaking out their coats. Dean had helped set the place up when Sam and Jess moved in, yet he was still astounded at how instantly comforting it was, even just inside the door. There was this warmth to the place. He’d call it ‘cozy’ if he was the type of guy to say ‘cozy’ unironically.
“Sam! Your brother’s here!” Jess called, leaning against a wall while Dean and Cas hung their coats up.
“I know!” Sam called back, his voice drawing nearer. “I heard his engine down the block.”
Jess rolled her eyes playfully at Dean. Can you believe I married this nerd? “He brought a friend.” She singsonged.
Sam finally appeared, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
“Castiel?” Sam said in disbelief.
“Hello, Sam.”
Dean had forgotten how much Sam had idolized Cas. He was practically the kid’s nerdy icon. Sam glanced at Dean, eyes bugging, before sticking his hand out to Cas. Cas stole Jess’ move from earlier and moved in for a hug instead. Sam closed his eyes and patted Cas on the back.
“How’ve you been, man?” Sam asked as they parted.
“Great. How are you, Sam?”
Sam threw an arm around Jess. “Great, great. Yeah, Jess and I got married, I’m outta law school. Things are great. Hey, are you joinin’ us for the movie?”
Cas looked to Dean.
“Yeah, he is.” Dean said. “He’s never seen it either.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “ Never? It’s a classic!”
“That’s what I said!” Dean laughed.
Cas caught Dean’s eye and nodded to a spot above Sam and Jess. Glitter may have been the ‘herpes of the craft world,’ but mistletoe held the title for Christmas. It hung above Sam and Jess, swaying ever so slightly.
Sam followed his gaze and instantly put a hand over his face, blush spreading on his cheeks. Still, he was smiling.
“Sorry, sorry. Jess put that up.”
Jess laughed as she looked at the leaves then back to Dean and Cas. She shrugged. “What can I say? I like having a reason to kiss my husband.”
She stood up on her toes and gave Sam a quick kiss on the cheek. Dean pointed to Cas.
“See? Totally g-rated.”
They all hunkered down for the movie, the living room dark save for the tv light. Sam and Jess curled together on a loveseat while Dean and Cas sat a safe distance apart on the couch.
“Man, that kid sucks,” Dean said as the main character’s brother scarfed mashed potatoes on screen.
“What? No way!” Sam said.
“He’s like the worst little brother ever. Trust me on this one.”
Jess laughed against Sam’s chest and shook her head at Cas. “They always get into it. Every time we watch a movie. Every time.”
Sam pointed at Dean. “You always pull out the big brother card.”
“Well, when you’re a big brother, feel free to give it a spin.” Dean smirked.
Cas, staring at the screen, chimed in absently. “Doesn’t he already have the big brother card?”
“What?” Dean said.
Everyone was looking at him. Cas glanced at them all. “Um. Because you’re bigger than Dean?”
Sam and Jess laughed. Dean gave a half-hearted chuckle and leaned back into his seat.
“True. You know, I did always want to be a big brother.” Sam said, messing with Jess’ hair.
“You did?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. I used to put it on all my Christmas lists,” Sam chuckled. “ Dear Santa, please bring me a baby brother or sister so I can be a big brother, just like Dean. Stuff like that.”
Dean looked at Cas. He knew there was this panic on his face, a question that he needed answered. Cas, morally pure, good intentions Cas would know. Cas nodded. Dean wiped a hand over his face and got up to go into the kitchen. Sam watched him with a furrowed brow.
Dean splashed some water on his face, trying to calm down. He thought he’d been doing Sam a favor by not telling him about Adam. About how Dean had been going over there. He’d seen Adam three times now and he’d kept it to himself. He couldn’t keep doing that to Sam.
“Was the ‘just like Dean’ thing too much?” Sam said. Of course he’d followed Dean in here. Dean glanced over his brother’s shoulder into the living room. Cas and Jess now sat by each other, talking quietly. Dean scrubbed a hand down his face.
“No, no. It’s not that.”
Dean looked up at his little brother. Why’d Sam have to put on those puppy dog eyes? That was gonna make this so much harder…
“Sam, you are a big brother.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Because I’m tall, haha, I get it. Castiel just told that joke, Dean.”
“No, Sam,” Dean huffed. “You… we have a younger brother. Adam. His name is Adam.”
“What?” Sam took a step back.
“Yeah. He’s, uh, he’s fourteen. He’s our half-brother, obviously. And he’s a great kid.”
Sam looked horrified. “This isn’t funny, Dean.”
“Do I look like I’m laughing?”
Sam moved further into the kitchen, hands in his hair. He looked lost and confused and Dean had to turn away from him.
“How do you know? How’d you find out?” Sam asked softly.
This one’s gonna hurt. “I’ve met him. And look-”
“You’ve met him? ” Sam said, jaw clenching.
“Yeah, and-”
“You knew that we have a secret brother and you didn’t tell me?”
“Sam-”
“How long have you known about him?”
Man, Dean knew he was gonna feel terrible about this but he didn’t expect it to feel this bad. He wished there was a chair in here, just so he could sit down for a minute, pull himself together.
“ How long? ” Sam repeated.
“Three months.”
Sam’s mouth dropped open. “Three months?”
“Yeah, right when I got appendicitis, then at Thanksgiving-”
“You were with us for Thanksgiving.” Sam said.
“I went over there the day after. And um. Tonight. I saw him tonight.”
Sam leaned against the counter and wiped his hands down his face. His shoulders slumped.
“Sam, I know you’re angry.”
“You have no idea.” Sam exhaled, ragged.
“Okay, I don’t know. But you wanted to be a big brother right? Here’s your chance. You could meet him tomorrow if you wanted.”
Sam looked up. “Tomorrow?” He sounded incredulous.
“Yeah, I mean, Cas has to pick up his kid from there so maybe-”
“ Cas has a kid?” Sam said. “How many more secret kids are there? Do you have one?”
“No. Sam, come on. Cas’ kid and Adam are friends. Maybe they could come over, bake cookies or somethin’.”
“I’m so…” Sam sighed. “I’m pissed off at you, Dean. You didn’t tell me about this for three months. That’s-”
“Douchey, I know, Sam. Trust me, I know. I’m not asking you not to be pissed at me. I’d be pissed at me. I’m just asking for you to meet the kid. That’s it.”
It was torturous, the silence here. It was so heavy with possibility, Dean thought he’d drown in it. Sam looked at the ceiling, arms crossed.
“Fine.”
“Fine?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, fine. I’ll meet him.”
Dean’s heart jumped. “You will?”
“Yeah. I’m still angry with you, though.”
When they went back into the living room, Cas was looking at Dean with a question. Dean smiled in answer. Sam curled back up with Jess and jutted his chin at Cas.
“Hey, how come you never told me you had a kid?”
The movie was over late. Jess said her goodbyes as soon as it was done and headed straight to bed, Sam following behind quickly. Dean had key so they left him to lock up behind him and Cas. They stood in the entry in silence, the only light in the house shining in a warm glow on them. They shrugged on their coats and stood in the open doorway.
It was midnight. There were no tire tracks in the street and all the strings of lights were turned off all down the block. It was only streetlight and snow against the night.
“You gonna stay and bake with us tomorrow?” Dean asked, not looking at Cas.
“I suppose so. I have the day off. And it’s been awhile since I’ve baked cookies.” Cas chuckled.
“You better. We’re gonna watch Die Hard when we’re done, which is the best Christmas movie of all time.”
Cas grinned. “Never seen it.”
“Am I gonna have to educate you on all the best Christmas movies?” Dean knocked his fist against the door frame. A bundle of leaves fell between them, Scotch tape still stuck to the cord holding everything together. They both looked at it for a moment before Cas knelt to pick it up.
He held it in his palm and they both watched it warily. When Dean looked up at Cas, Cas was already looking at him.
“Will this get me another high-five?” Cas asked.
“Definitely.”
Cas held it above their heads, a gorgeous smile on his face, dimples in his cheeks. Dean held up his hand for another high five. Cas brought his hand up as well, letting their palms rest against each other before intertwining their fingers. He pulled Dean in slowly, giving him time to say anything. Dean leaned in.
It wasn’t like their first kiss. That was drunk and sloppy and unskilled. This was gentle and warm. Dean didn’t know when Cas had dropped his hand or the mistletoe but they both were otherwise occupied now, one on Dean’s jaw, the other on his neck. Dean held Cas closer, pulling him in by the belt of his ugly coat.
There they were, all lips and hands and years of longing, slotted together in the doorway. They kissed each other warm against the cold and the snow just fell.