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Christmas held no magic for Dean.
At least, not since he was four, and his family was complete. He didn’t really remember much about that time. There were vague impressions of a tree, but that was mostly it. He doesn’t remember a time he believed in Santa Claus.
It wasn't particularly something he felt sorrow over, even now. It was just the way things were. As a kid, he’d lamented over not being able to just… be a kid. Play ball. Go to the movies with friends. Those were things he missed out on. Christmas… that wasn’t something he’d ever really given much thought about.
Trees, lights, turkey… for most of his childhood, that was replaced by motel rooms and gas station pie, and carols on the radio that he didn’t know the words to and nobody bothered to teach him. It felt like such a foreign concept at times, that its absence largely went unnoticed.
When he was younger, Dean did his best to at least mark the occasion for Sam. There were always presents. Bobby was usually willing to help him out with that, but sometimes the five finger discount worked just as well.
When Sam left for Stanford, Dean stopped celebrating Christmas altogether.
Christmas meant family. And for a while it was okay that Christmas wasn't a thing. Even after he came back from hell, and then later purgatory, the world always seemed to be in need of saving and the holidays passed by forgotten.
To Dean, the Christmas tradition was, well, not having Christmas. Not having any traditions.
But this year, that would all change.
This year, he would go all out. Both of them would.
Trees, turkey, lights, why stop there? Wreaths, tinsel, garlands, mistletoe…
Dean broke off that line of thinking, his cheeks threatening to stain pink. Definitely the mistletoe. Not that he needed an excuse to kiss Castiel, but having one would just make it all the more fun. Maybe he should hang one over his bed too.
Regardless, Dean planned to make sure that Christmas this year was perfect, because he liked to consider it their first. First, because for the first time, Dean could see that his image of family had changed. Christmas wasn’t about a mom and dad, and two kids. Christmas was about the idea of family.
At the heart of that were him and Sam, sure. But no less important was Cas. Jody and Donna. Claire and the other more-or-less-adopted kids. Eileen.
His found family.
So, Dean was determined to go all out this year. He bought every cheesy Christmas decoration he could find in town. Stockpiled ingredients in batches through most of November and December so he could make every Christmas snack he could think of.
(He might have to consider donating some of those sugar cookies, because there’s no way they’re going to get through all of them, even with Castiel’s angel metabolism.)
He bought a turkey, gifts for everyone, and though he’d never admit it, he watched a youtube tutorial on how to wrap gifts, and was satisfied with nothing less than what could only be described as military corners on his wrapping paper.
And it might be weird, that they were celebrating Christmas in a bunker that once belonged to dead guys. Dead hunter-researchers. It might be unusual that what was usually the war room was now covered in tinsel and the table housed the biggest Christmas tree Dean had been able to get through the door.
Weird and unusual, but it felt like home.
Dean just finished hanging the last bauble on the tree when he heard the rumble of the Impala outside. He fought the urge to bolt outside and examine her for scratches, because he didn’t know why he’d agreed to let Sam and Cas take her on the damn hunt anyway, but he’d been too busy deflecting their suspicion about why he’d ducked out of this hunt.
He stood nervous and excited as they entered the door laughing. The laughter cut off abruptly as soon as they registered the new additions to the walls. Sam descended the steps, looking around in confusion. Cas —well, even from here, Dean could see his eyes crinkled and soft, his gaze taking in each and every ornament.
“Well,” Dean asked, hopefully. “What do you think?”
And he’d braced himself for Sam’s mockery, but maybe something showed on his face because it didn’t come.
Instead, Sam’s hand clapped him on the shoulder gently, and a wistful smile spread across his face. “It looks great, Dean. I’m gonna drop my bag off and you might want to hide whatever you don’t want me to eat, because I smell cookies and I’m starving,” he warned.
“Keep away from my pie!” Dean called after him, but didn’t look away from Castiel.
“Sam is right,” Castiel agreed, and Dean held a hand out, pleased when Cas took it without prompting. “It looks wonderful. You did all this in two days?”
Dean shrugged. “It’s not just for us. I invited people to spend the holidays with us. Friends. Family.”
He pulled Castiel in close, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. “I missed you.”
There’s no verbal response as Castiel took advantage of the closeness to kiss him, and yeah, okay, Dean might have set this up for exactly that reason, sue him.
It was only a brief kiss, but it filled Dean with warmth to his fingertips. And it was crazy to think so, but when he pulled away, he thought all the Christmas decorations seemed a bit more warm too, more connected.
Like the bunker just became a home.
“What brought all this on? I didn’t think Christmas was something you’d considered important in the past.”
Dean shrugged again, but it was a fair question. “I think it’s important for us to celebrate the little things. I didn’t really feel like we had a whole lot to celebrate until now.”
“But it’s more than that.” Castiel was always good at reading what Dean didn’t say.
“Yeah,” Dean admitted easily. “I guess I thought our family could use some new traditions.”
And then it was only too easy to kiss the dazzling smile off Castiel’s face.