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Dean didn’t know and didn’t care how the mistletoe ended up where it hung now. But it was there, mocking him, right in the frame of one of the kitchen’s doors. He suspected his brother had something to do with it, but Dean wouldn’t give Sam the satisfaction of asking about the thing. As long as Dean used the other entry, everything would be fine. He certainly wouldn’t give anyone the chance of sneaking up to him when he stood under the mistletoe himself. Hell no!
Although it took a bit of logistics and detours to evade the door, which resulted in irritated glances from the others, Dean managed to skirt the trap until Christmas day had gone by without an incident.
It could only be a matter of hours until the holiday fuss was over, and the mistletoe would end up in the trash. Maybe that was the reason why Dean had lowered his guard when he was preparing his breakfast. He hummed while the eggs and the bacon sizzled in the pan and the coffee was slowly dripping in the pot. Completely focused on his task and encompassed with the mouth-watering smell of the food, Dean didn’t notice Cas at first.
When Dean looked up from the pan, Cas stood in the doorframe, staring at him. The angel was watching his every move, and showed no shame in ogling him. Transfixed, Dean stared back. The heat that rose inside him had nothing to do with the heat from the stove.
Dean grinned and took in his friend, unintentionally wetting his lips. Although Cas didn’t sleep, his hair was tousled, his coat was wrinkled, and his tie was askew and twisted. Fuck! Cas looked the right kind of dishevelled and Dean had to fight the urge to walk up to him and to straighten his appearance. Instead, Dean busied himself again. It was high time. The bacon already started to blacken and the eggs …
“Shit!” Dean cursed when the grease burned his fingers. He should have known better than trying to save his breakfast with anything but his hands.
“Hello, Dean!” Cas greeted him, a smile on his lips, but still didn’t enter.
That was when Dean realised where Cas was standing. Did Cas know? Was all this intentional?
No. Cas stood there very often, mistletoe or no mistletoe.
Suddenly, Dean felt as if his brain flipped a switch and ran his body on autopilot. Something else took over and there was nothing he could do against it. Deep down, he knew this was his last chance, and, although terrified, he had to act on it.
Making sure the breakfast was out of danger, Dean faced Cas once again. Switching on a broad grin that said nothing about his inner turmoil, Dean walked towards his friend, who hadn’t moved a bit from under the doorframe.
“Hey, sunshine,” Dean lilted while his heart hammered a completely different beat.
The last steps took forever. Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. All the sounds and lights dimmed around Dean. There was only Cas, glowing, like a rock against the wildest storms. A lighthouse in the shitstorm that was Dean’s life.
The moment he came up to Cas, Dean reached out, cupped his friend’s face, and placed a gentle kiss on Cas’ lips.
Although Dean wanted to stay longer, he tore himself away, winked, and smugly walked along the corridor, not looking back.
Cas hadn’t moved or reacted at all during the whole thing, and as soon as Dean turned around the corner, he panicked. Holy shit! What had he done? What the fuck had he done?
Not wanting to give his feelings away, in case Cas was listening in, Dean kept his pace steady and walked on. But keeping it together only worked until he reached his room. The moment he closed the door behind him, Dean’s breathing accelerated, and the entire world turned in front of his eyes. Nausea gripped him and he wanted nothing more than to turn back time and keep himself from being so damn stupid.
No longer capable of standing, Dean slid down his door and huddled against the cold wood. But it didn’t help. Cas’ eyes, wide and full of shock, in the moment before Dean had leaned down and kissed him, would haunt Dean forever. It was an image he would never forget. It had been the moment he had destroyed the best friendship he ever had.
It took several minutes, maybe more, until Dean got up to his feet and walked over to his bed. He was still shaken, but he knew how to drown his feelings. He was a freaking expert! It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Dean fished the bottle of Jack from his usual hiding spot in his dresser, tipped the bottle to his lips, and took a sip. At once, the heat of the liquor burned down his throat and calmed his nerves. All Dean needed now was some classic rock. It wouldn’t do anything against his fucked-up decision-making, but at least it would help him banish his feelings.
Dean settled himself on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. When the first beats of Back in Black sounded through his headphones, Dean started to breathe more freely. It was only a matter of time, until the alcohol kicked in and soothed him.
Bang. Someone gave the door a good knock and Dean jolted, despite the beats of the music.
Shaking his head and closing his eyes, Dean leaned back, immersed himself in the music, and ignored whoever was standing in front of the door. They would have to wait.
The knocking didn’t stop, though. It only intensified until the whole door shook and threatened to break its hinges.
“Dean,” Cas blared. Despite the angelic powered volume, there was no ill-intention in Cas’ voice. He almost sounded … desperate. Huh?
Dean shrugged. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t do this. Not yet. Taking another sip from his bottle, he went on ignoring his friend.
“Please,” Cas begged, and Dean’s resolve softened. Who was he to resist this angel? His angel.
Cursing, Dean rushed to his feet and walked over to the door. “Fuck it!” he mumbled, and tore it open.
There he was. Cas. He stood farther away than usual as if trying to keep his distance from Dean, but at least he hadn’t run away after Dean had fucked up. He had stayed. Cas was here, right in front of him.
Unwanted hope flooded through Dean. It would make everything much worse; the moment Cas delivered his final blow.
Dean waited, holding his breath, but nothing happened. Both of them just stared at each other. It felt like eternity, and Dean’s heart started to bump with a speed that couldn’t be healthy. He was lost in Cas’ eyes. Dean was Cas’, and had been his for a damn long time.
And then, Cas smiled. The asshole started to smile. It started with a tuck at the corners of Cas’ mouth and ended with a full gummy grin.
Dean’s knees almost gave up that very moment.
Cas’ eyes flitted up, looking at something above Dean’s head, and the magic was broken.
Dean frowned and looked up as well. His heart skipped several beats when he spotted the object Cas had glanced at.
“I was oblivious to this tradition of yours,” Cas explained, but before Dean could react further, the angel invaded his personal space. Cas’ hand cupped Dean’s jaw as if it was made for it, and when Cas’ thumb brushed over Dean’s cheek, a sob erupted from Dean’s chest.
Cas’ lips found Dean’s and Dean melted. He might have ended up as a puddle on the floor, if it weren’t for Cas’ hand holding the back of his head.
“Merry belated Christmas, Dean,” Cas mumbled between kisses, before Dean closed the little space between them and shut him off.
Sparing one last glance at the mistletoe in his doorframe, Dean walked them backwards into his room and closed the door behind them.
Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but Dean didn’t care. Christmas might be already over, but this was a damn Christmas miracle.
“Merry Christmas, Cas.”