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“Cas did you grab that other box—?”
“Yes Dean, I have it.”
Sam frowned at the voices that traveled down to him. He pushed aside his laptop, glancing up in enough time to see Dean holding the Bunker door open so that Cas could walk ahead of him. They each held a cardboard box in their arms, and Dean had a few plastic shopping bags on his wrists.
“Dude, you said you were going grocery shopping!” Sam scoffed, as he caught the festive holiday decorations adorning the box in Castiel’s hands. Said box was green and red with streaks of white, and the images on two sides advertized twelve bundles of 5 foot long strings of yellow-glowing Christmas lights. There was a light smile on Cas’ face when he set the box down gingerly on the map-faced table.
“We did!” Dean reasoned, beaming as he bounced down the stairs. Sam was at least glad to see that the box in his brother’s hand held a dozen grocery bags with food to last them at least a few more weeks. Since they’d found a very human Castiel, they’d been blowing through their food supply faster than usual. “And a few…extras.” Dean admitted when Castiel began cutting open the box of Christmas lights. Sam shook his head gently.
“The bunker is supposed to be a secret Dean,” Sam chided. “We can’t go outside and string up lights, that’d be as bad as putting up a neon sign!”
“Ah, but these are indoor lights!” Dean pointed out, raping a knuckle against the cardboard. Cas was now diligently putting out wrapped bundle after wrapped bundle. Sure enough, the white strings of lights were strictly for indoors, and most of them were in small strings, most likely intended for Christmas trees. “And tomorrow I’ll take Kevin along to pick out a tree. I’m sure the kid is jonezin for a Christmas! He’s had a rough two years, we owe him that at least.”
“A tree Dean?” Sam murmured.
“Are they not customary for your annual celebration for Jesus of Nazareth?” Castiel wondered. “I find the celebration admirable and joyous. Although, you’re ahead by nearly a month. I think it would be…fun. Though, why adorn a pine tree exactly? You do realize those are in no way native to the North-Eastern Coast of Africa?” Cas questioned softly as he placed down another bundle of lights on the table
“See? Even Cas is in the mood to celebrate this year!” Dean’s grin couldn’t be any brighter as he turned to the man. Dean snatched up a bundle and tossed it into Sam’s chest. “Help the ol’ angel unravel. I’m gonna stock up the kitchen and we’ll start stringing!”
Cas, of course, was the one who discovered that the lights could be attached together in order to create a longer string. Once Dean had suggested wrapping them around the stair railing, Cas had smiled, and said at night it would look lovely. At that point, Sam needed to go find extension cords, or maybe a bottle of Jack. Dean was obviously in the holiday spirit, but then again, he’d been walking with a little more pep in his step since they found Castiel after the angels fell. Granted, he’d been three inches away from a rouge reaper’s angel blade…but, thankfully they’d all made it out okay. Sam was glad Cas was fine—despite being human—and of course they had room for him in the bunker, but…he just wasn’t feeling the season this year.
It didn’t really feel like they’d deserved a break. There was the gate to hell still wide open…Metatron…fallen angels…
“You’re doing it again.”
Dean’s voice made Sam jump slightly. Damn, Dean could be silent when he wanted to move. How had Sam missed his brother stepping down into the kitchen? Damn coffee pot was noisy…
“Doing what?” Sam asked.
“Freaking out about stuff when we’ve got a minute to breathe.” Dean answered plainly. “Put down the damn paper and come decorate with us! Cas is almost done with the lights, and Kevin found a box of decorations in the basement. Apparently even the old dusty Men of Letters knew when to get festive!”
“Oh shit, we should make sure none of that’s cursed…” Sam murmured.
“What?” Dean asked.
“You remember that Christmas couple who’d killed anyone who hung up those wreaths—”
“Dude, they were pagan Gods like years ago and we ganked them.” Dean reasoned. “These are probably fine. The box even said decorations. If they were cursed they’d be in hex boxes. Now get your sorry lady-man ass upstairs, or I’m throwing on some Elvis Christmas tunes.”
Sam glared softly, but he followed his brother upstairs as soon as his coffee was done brewing. And, yea, the bunker was starting to look really Christmas-y. The yellow lights were woven around the railings all the way up the stairs, and Kevin was winding a string of garland around the top most railing. Cas seemed to be tangled in the last few strings of lights they had left, and Dean was laughing as he worked to free him. Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. How many people actually ended up tangled in their own lights when decorating their homes?
Sam blinked at the thought as it crossed his mind. Home…they…were…decorating this place like…it was their home. Sam sat down gingerly at the table, warm mug of coffee in his hands. Dean muttered something to Cas, laughing again, but warning him to stay still as he pulled at the string of lights. Kevin couldn’t contain his giggle either from the top of the stairs, and when he glanced over at Sam, eyes bright, grin wide, Sam chuckled.
Yea. This was home.
“Hey Kevin,” Sam called. “Wanna pick out the Christmas tree today?” Sam asked.
Dean turned to stare at him, but there was still laughter in his eyes. “Yea, why don’t you two head out and pick out something big? I’m thinking it’ll fit right there.” Dean said, pointing at the corner by the doorway that led down to their bedroom.
“Seriously?” Kevin asked.
“Yea. Let me get the keys.” Sam said.
“Put on a jacket kid,” Dean called up as he freed the last knotted string of lights from over Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s windy out there.” Kevin pounded down the stairs, practically running to get a coat faster than Sam could get his own and the keys to the Impala. Dean was putting the last of the lights back into the box to save for the tree when Kevin bounded back up the stairs behind Sam.
“Oh, by the way Dean,” Kevin called, a smirk on his face when Dean turned to look. He stepped closer, squinting at whatever Kevin was pointing too on the railing. “Mistletoe.” Kevin added, to which Sam barked out a laugh, and they quickly left.
Cas was standing right beneath the railing, rolling up his own string of lights carefully, lest he get himself tangled again. He only paused at Sam’s laughter as the bunker door slammed shut. He had his head tilted up towards the garland, squinting to see the white seeds against the green garland and black railing. “Mistletoe? What’s the significance of that? They don’t primarily grow in garland….”
“No...uh…” Dean cleared his throat as he tried to explain. Why was he so flustered? Kevin and Sam were gone…they didn’t need to know if…anything happened really. “It’s a weird…Christmas tradition. Anyone caught under the mistletoe…has...to...kiss.”
“Why?” Cas wondered, turning those curious blue eyes on Dean now.
“I have no idea,” Dean admitted. His body moved him a step closer, and he saw how Castiel’s gaze softened. The confusion was gone for the moment as Cas glanced down at his lips, and back up again. “Traditions are traditions.” Dean whispered.
“I wouldn’t mind partaking in this one with you…” Castiel murmured softly. Dean smiled at that thought, and before he could second-guess himself, he took that final step closer. His lips ghosted over Castiel’s, softly, gently, oh hell that was barely even a kiss. Cas was leaning forward when Dean pulled back slightly, and their lips crushed together again. Dean reacted on instinct, his arms wrapping around Cas as they staggered backwards.
They never broke the kiss. It wasn’t as soft anymore. It was hard, but passionate, and maybe a little sloppy until Cas tilted his head just right. Cas tasted like his minty toothpaste, and that silly chapstick the sales clerk had convinced Castiel to buy. But the kiss felt like six years of holding back, six years of longing, six years of need that burned from Castiel’s lips to Dean’s and down into his chest. It settled there, warm and heavy but comfortable, like it had always been there and Dean was only now feeling it. Dean broke away when his hip crashed into the long table. His heart rammed against his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of his as he gasped against Castiel’s lips. They were close enough that Dean could feel the man’s breath against his cheek as Cas sucked in a tiny wisp of air.
Damn it had been a while since Dean had seen Castiel’s eyes so damn blue. Like…like fresh snow on a cloudy day. Cold and harsh, but beautiful…and…shielded. The warmth in his chest betrayed the guarded expression on Castiel’s face, and Dean smiled to lighten his angel’s mood.
“Damn…how long ya been holding that one back Cas?” Dean wondered gently. His lips rolled together, relishing in the lingering pressure from the kiss. It had been a while since someone had kissed him like that.
“I…long enough,” Cas admitted. Dean could swear the man was blushing as he stepped away and ducked his head from Dean’s gaze. “I…I understand if you were simply following tradition—”
Dean reached a hand out to stop the man from fumbling backwards into the chair near the table. “Cas you idiot,” Dean chuckled as his fingers circled Castiel’s wrist and pulled him back slowly. “You only kiss the person until the mistletoe if you care about ‘em.” Dean watched as understanding washed over Cas’ face, and the angel smiled warmly.
“Then you didn’t mind the…kissing?” Castiel asked quietly, almost sheepishly. Dean laughed and pulled his angel closer. Their knees bumped lightly until Cas shifted so that his leg slotted gently between Dean’s and they were eye-leveled.
“No, not at all,” Dean agreed. “Wanna run it by me again?” Dean wondered softly. Castiel’s eye grew wide and the smile that glossed over his face was brighter than the lights over their heads. It made Dean all warm again. Castiel’s lips were soft, cool, and comfortable against his. As Cas’ hand cupped his chin, rubbing against his afternoon stubble, Dean couldn’t help but smile between the kisses. This year was going to be the best Christmas ever