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Anyone who knew Dean knew he devoted himself to throwing elaborate Christmas parties. On the Friday before Christmas, Dean's house was riddled with garland and ornaments, vodka and whiskey, sprigs of mistletoe and holly, and eggnog. Eggnog and rum. He wore a headband of antlers wrapped in battery-operated twinkling lights, awful granny vests with pompoms, and the only pair of khakis he owned.
If it was anybody else, Sam would think Dean was crazy, maybe using the holiday as an attempt to re-live his college days of booze and shiny things, but Christmastime was genuinely Dean's favorite time of the year. One of Sam's earliest memories was of Dean helping four-year-old Sam make a list of all the toys he wanted from Santa. As he grew, Sam accepted that Christmas was another holiday in a short list of days he got off from school and work. Dean's obsession for Christmas never wavered, and from December first to the end of the year, Dean's house looked like the North Pole.
This year, Sam knew, was particularly important to Dean. He was interested in one of the local police officers, and as it was her first Christmas after her divorce, Dean said he had to make it the best Christmas ever. Sam volunteered to help Dean, expecting a light-hearted mood after a declaration like "best Christmas ever," but Dean's house was more of a citadel with Dean as a demanding king.
"Sam, it's crooked. No. The other way."
Sam fantasized about strangling Dean with the string of icicle lights. If not Dean, then himself.
"Dean," he gritted out. "I think I know how to put lights on a tree."
"Not these lights, and not on this tree. I thought when you asked to help you were gonna take this seriously."
A knock at Dean's door interrupted anything Sam would have said in retort.
"I brought the cookie cutters you asked for. The only gumdrops I had were left over from Halloween. I apologize," Castiel said, entering Dean's house carrying two tote bags of ingredients for gingerbread cookies.
"That's good enough for practice," Dean said.
Dean managing to coerce Castiel into helping Dean make a gingerbread house was unexpected. Castiel wasn't known for being a festive person. He wasn't a "Scrooge" or "Grinch," though he had been referred to as much on more than one occasion. Castiel wasn't adverse to the holidays. He had a small Nativity displayed on his dining room table. He didn't grumble when Dean topped his car's antennae with a festive Jack in the Box mascot ball. Every Christmas he had known them, Castiel gave Dean and Sam a Christmas present. He explained to Sam it wasn't because he cared about the celebration, but he knew it was important to Dean.
Castiel stopped to say, "Hello, Sam."
"Yeah, yeah, we don't have time for that," Dean said, pushing Castiel into the kitchen.
After that, Sam twisted the lights around the tree haphazardly. With some ornaments and tinsel, he hoped Dean wouldn't notice. He looked forward to Castiel's baking lesson, and didn't want to miss his opportunity to see Dean struggle in the kitchen for a change. Sam barely made out the countdown-to-Christmas calendar camouflaged amongst Dean's collection of Santa figurines.
Three weeks until Christmas, two weeks until the party.
Being the youngest in his family by a sizeable margin, Castiel didn't grow up with an appreciation for Christmas like he found in Dean. There were no new decorations each year, only old, fragile, round ornaments, clay figures of snowmen, and strings of antique lights that burned to the touch. Santa was something the naive kids at school believed in, not Castiel. Candy canes were just difficult ways to consume peppermint. Eggnog was a disgusting affront to the taste buds.
His aunt was the one who took him to Christmas mass, but it was the only time of the year Castiel stepped foot in a church. He felt the warmth of a loving family, sitting book-ended by his cousins as his aunt told them the Christmas story. It was listening to his aunt's melodic voice as she read from an old children's book that Castiel’s faith was cemented. He imagined himself as one of the shepherd boys there to witness the birth of the Lord. It inspired him, to learn of a young lady unafraid even after receiving a visit by an angel informing her that she carried a great King.
At thirteen, Castiel empathized with Charlie Brown, and became cynical at the superficial ways people celebrated the holiday. Commercials after Thanksgiving and through December made Castiel want to break the TV. At school, he refused to participate in the holiday parties and gift exchanges. Disappointed, his teachers asked Castiel if he wanted to discuss his aversion to the holiday celebrations. At Castiel's blunt confession that he found their parties to be a meaningless, his teachers’ pity turned to frustration. The faculty of his schools labeled him "stubborn," a "wet-blanket." He received red marks for putting no effort in class projects of making Christmas decorations. The other students in his class rolled their eyes when Castiel sat aside during the parties to read. They teasingly offered him sugar cookies before eating them in his face, saying they were only for kids who celebrated Christmas.
High school became bearable, teachers only putting minimal effort to celebrate, and students only cared about getting two weeks off of school. It was easier for Castiel to fake enthusiasm at the winter formal when the affair didn’t pretend to be for the sake of Christmas. College allowed Castiel the freedom to say he didn't celebrate Christmas without it becoming a discussion. His friends said "okay," and went about their own celebration.
The first person who questioned Castiel as an adult was Dean. From somewhere in Dean's house--Castiel could never figure out from where--Christmas music played. Dean's house smelled like apple pie and cinnamon during December. Despite Castiel's refusal of Dean’s initial invitation to the Christmas party, Dean asked Castiel to join him on Christmas Eve as he baked a pie for Sam. Castiel learned the smell in Dean's house was from Dean making pies for work and his friends and for Christmas dinner with Sam. Castiel anticipated prodding and anger like he'd grown accustomed to in middle school. Instead he found curiosity from Dean.
"Christmas was my mom's favorite holiday," Dean said. "Why don't you celebrate?"
"I used to like Christmas. The faith-based part of it, anyway. Then I resented how people used Christmas as a way to take money from people."
Dean laughed, "Yeah, okay, that part sucks. But I don't see it that way."
"How do you see it?" Castiel asked.
"Christmas is a Christian holiday with pagan traditions, right? But the intentions of good are still there. People don't pay attention to how they're being ripped off because it means making another person happy."
"You're optimistic when it comes to the holidays," Castiel observed.
"Just Christmas," Dean corrected. He smirked, "And it used to piss Sammy off when he was a brooding tween."
Castiel watched Dean, pensive as Dean expertly weaved the top crust of the pie he promised to bake for Castiel.
"I'll come to your Christmas party next year," Castiel said.
Dean's face split in a grin, only faltering when Castiel added, "On the condition you get a less...garish Nativity."
They turned to Dean's set of the Holy Family in a manger twinkling with colored lights, the animals around them adorned in glitter.
"Deal," Dean agreed.
There were three types of presents guests had to take to Dean's Christmas parties: a present for Secret Santa; a present for white elephant; and a present to give to charity. Dean may have been the one to decide which presents his guests were required to take, and he gave anyone a bitchface if they didn't comply, but it was Charlie who was strict about enforcing the present rule. She was the unofficial sentry at Dean's party, alerting Dean whenever someone failed to arrive with one or all the gifts. To ensure he didn't forget any, Sam invited Charlie shopping.
"So who did you get for Secret Santa?" Charlie asked, vibrating in place like a puppy.
Sam laughed, "You're only here so I don't forget to get a toy and white elephant gift. I am not telling you who I got for Secret Santa."
Charlie groaned as Sam walked them through the crowd in the mall and into a Toys R Us.
"Please? I'll tell you who I got."
"I won't believe you."
Charlie huffed, but she didn't try to convince him she wouldn't lie. She kept a list of possible pairings but never divulged its contents, nor did she confess her recipient until Dean’s party.
The excitement of the children around them was infectious. The children ignored the heat of packed bodies in the store, keeping their beanies and puffy jackets on as they picked up boxes of RC cars and talking dolls. Sam unwrapped the scarf from around his neck, took off his jacket, and offered to hold Charlie's. She navigated her way to the corner with video game demos soon after.
Along the shelves were toys of cartoon characters Sam didn't recognize and gadgets he didn't understand. He picked up a model car kit of a '65 Mustang for Dean and was debating between a mermaid or centaur doll when Charlie found him.
"I've been looking all over for you," she said. “The clothes for the centaur look awkward, get the mermaid.”
She told Sam about the nine-year-old she had been playing games with. He told Charlie had lost his parents in the store, so Charlie escorted the kid to a harried employee. Charlie waited with the kid as his parents were paged and until they picked him up. The employee told Charlie she didn't have to wait, but she was charmed when Charlie said she was a sucker for happy endings.
"And now I have a date for Dean's party."
"I'm impressed," Sam admitted.
Charlie held up a game of Candyland and Parcheesi, "Are you taking anyone?"
"Um." Sam pointed to Candyland, "Not this year."
They walked over to the line that stretched out from the four registers. Impulsively, Sam picked up a bag of Big League Chew to share with Charlie.
"You're not still hung up on...?" Charlie asked, raising her eyebrows.
"I wouldn't say 'hung up,'" Sam said, looking around nervously. "But yeah, I still kind of..."
For some time, Charlie knew about Sam's interest and used the time she spent with Sam prodding him about it. He liked gossiping with Charlie about it, too embarrassed to ever mention it to Dean. He didn’t like when Charlie compared her own experience with dating to Sam’s. He sort of wished the line would move along faster so he wouldn’t have to continue the conversation.
"Have you mentioned it at all?"
Sam shrugged, "No. I like what we have right now. We're just friends and I'm not going to ruin a good thing."
"But it's Christmas!" Charlie said--whined, really. "It's the season of miracles and romance! Take advantage! Tell him!"
A surge of affection at Charlie's pouted bottom lip prompted Sam to wrap his arm around Charlie's shoulders.
"Yeah, Christmas isn't really his thing," Sam said.
"But he always goes to Dean's Christmas party."
"That's because he loves Dean and he'd do anything for him."
"You know he'd do anything for you, too," Charlie said quietly.
Charlie handed over the board game and the five Woolly Willy's she got for the white elephant exchange. The cashier didn't look up as he scanned and bagged the items. Charlie slid her debit card and accepted her receipt.
"Merry Christmas," the cashier said, smiling half-heartedly.
Sam smiled at the man in sympathy. He had his present for a family in need and something for Dean. Charlie suggested going to a secondhand store for Sam's white elephant gift, so they headed that way. He had ordered his present for Secret Santa, but didn't tell Charlie, knowing she'd figure out who Sam picked.
His package would arrive that week, and he still had two weeks until Christmas, one week until the party.
Christmas shopping was a particularly frustrating experience for Castiel. He preferred shopping online and taking advantage of free shipping when finding everything for his expansive family on Amazon. Choosing gifts for people he grew up with was a relatively simple task. Since he joined Dean and his band of misfits, one more gift was added to Castiel's list of purchases to make online.
He tended to buy a pair of shoes for Dean's charity. For white elephant, he raided his closet for one of the old presents his brother bought him for his birthday. Castiel's brother enjoyed embarrassing Castiel and often sent Castiel a product from the back wall of Spencer Gifts. Castiel stopped opening the gifts years ago and always had a wrapped present handy for Dean's party.
Castiel he put more effort in finding a present for Secret Santa than he did for anyone else during the year. For Secret Santa, Castiel physically dragged himself to the mall to test and view and touch what he thought his receiver would enjoy. It did nothing to put him in the Christmas spirit.
An hour before Dean's Christmas party, Dean walked out of his bedroom wearing slacks and a neutral cardigan, his hair combed back, looking unlike his usual gaudy Christmas-self.
"That's what you're wearing? Where's your Christmas sweater?" Sam asked.
He was a little disappointed. He wore an elf hat with pointed ears, anticipating Dean wearing a Santa hat.
"I, uh, decided not to wear my Christmas sweater this year. It's a little kitsch, don't you think, Sammy?"
Sam managed to tame his smirk.
He and Dean walked around Dean's house to double-check their preparedness for the party. Dean supervised as Sam straightened decorations, set out trays of hors d'oeuvres, and took care that the fridge was stocked with alcohol and cocktail fixings. Dean ordered Sam to hang mistletoe up at every doorway, even the doorway to the guest restroom. At the knock at his door marking the arrival of his first guest, Dean straightened the bottom of his shirt and fixed his hair in the dull reflection of a plastic silver spoon. He practically pushed Sam out of the way to answer the door.
Castiel walked in, a stack of three presents in his arm. Dean looked behind him before grinning and extracting the bottle of ginger ale Castiel had clutched in the crook of his elbow.
"Expecting someone else to be here early, Dean?" Castiel asked cordially.
"No, no. Come in, Cas! Merry Christmas!"
Sam helped Castiel place his gifts on three different sides of the tree Dean marked off. Sam shook Castiel's Secret Santa present delicately when Castiel wasn't looking.
More guests arrived following Castiel, Dean's anticipation nearly ruining his aura of nonchalance. Sam and Castiel sat on the stairs to watch Dean's good cheer waver when each guest that came through the door wasn't Sheriff Donna. If Donna didn't arrive, Sam hoped it wouldn't ruin Dean's party.
Castiel reassured Sam, "Your brother will be fine. No one I have ever met before is as dedicated to Christmas as your brother. It is almost inspiring."
Fifteen minutes past the hour, Donna arrived, bundled in a winter coat. Sam had just returned with virgin eggnog for himself and ginger ale for Castiel. They watched Dean fumble with Donna's coat and compliment her dress. She apologized for being late and related to Dean the latest case she was working on.
The enraptured look on Dean's face gave Sam a bit of second-hand embarrassment. He glanced at Castiel, who was spinning his straw in his cup distractedly. Sam hoped he wasn't as obvious as his brother.
Two hours into the party and most of the guests were sloshed. Sam and Castiel stuck to non-alcoholic beverages, to keep an eye on the guests and made sure no one got too rowdy. Castiel whispered to Sam how the guests looked like sleepy babies when they danced. Dean kept to Donna's side the entire party, his hand at the small of her back, introducing her to everyone there, whether she already knew them or not.
Sam was introduced to Charlie's date who was just as bubbly as his friend and, after a few drinks, related to Sam her and Charlie's meeting in excruciating detail. More than once. Charlie was too starry-eyed to tell her date Sam had been there when they met.
"So there we were, waiting for this kid's parents, right? And I was, like--"
"Sam," Castiel interrupted. "Sorry, excuse me. I need your help with one of the lights on Dean's Christmas tree."
"I have to go. Nice meeting you again," Sam said apologetically.
Throughout the night, Dean's guests had picked up their presents from the Secret Santa pile and their choice from the white elephant. Jo adored the knee-high boots Castiel gifted her with, teary-eyed when she hugged Castiel in gratitude.
"Everyone gets me something plaid or masculine, but for a Scrooge, you always know just what to get," Jo said.
"We haven't picked up our presents, yet," Sam noted.
He knelt and pulled the package with his name out from under the tree. Castiel sat beside him, and Sam handed over Castiel's Secret Santa present. From the white elephant pile, Sam picked out a lumpy present wrapped in newspaper and Castiel chose a lavender bag with pink tissue paper.
"Let's open the white elephant first?" Sam suggested, not quite ready for Castiel to open his present yet.
In Castiel's bag, he pulled out a book called Graduation Debt: How to Manage Student Loans and Live Your Life. He flipped it open and began reading the table of contents. Sam tore his paper open and found a bicycle bell with an anime girl on it.
For Sam's real present, he got a gift card from Garth for Bass Pro Shops and a 5x7 wooden picture frame with a cartoon moose on the corner.
"That's cute," Castiel said with a smile.
Sam's heart jumped in his throat and he felt a warmth in his chest. Castiel set his book aside and slid a finger along the folded of the gift wrap, breaking the tape.
"Wait, Cas," Sam said.
Castiel looked up, ever patient when it came to the Winchesters. Sam put his hand on Castiel's.
"Before you open it, I want you to know I picked you for Secret Santa. Everyone thinks you don't like Christmas, but I know you just don't like how secular it is. Truth be told, I kind of get tired of hearing 'Santa Clause is Coming to Town' around December third."
They shared a laugh, and before he could stall anymore, Sam said, "I just. Thank you for always coming to these parties and for joining me and Dean every year on Christmas. Your happiness is important to me."
Sam squeezed Castiel's hand, "You are important to me."
Castiel ducked his head, and Sam melted inside.
He pulled his hand back and said, "Okay. Sorry. You can open it."
With the wrapping paper carefully pulled off, Castiel stared at the box in his hand.
Sam rushed out, "I know last year you accidentally broke the angel in your Nativity. I looked for the one you had and I was able to find the exact same angel. Well, this version has dark hair and blue eyes, but it came from the same set. And she made me think of you."
Castiel turned the box over, looking at the picture in the back showing the angel standing atop a stable identical to the display Castiel had in his house. The angel wasn't flashy, a ceramic figure five-inches long with a tranquil Mona Lisa-smile in cream robes and goldenrod wings.
"She's beautiful, Sam. Thank you."
Before he could second-guess himself, Sam asked, "Will you have dinner with me?"
Castiel's head snapped up, his mouth open slightly.
"I've never had the balls to tell you before, but I have been practically in love with you for a really long time. I never knew if you would be interested, but Charlie put it in my head that it's Christmas, and that means romance and miracles. Or something."
Sam didn’t think confessing his feelings for Castiel would include the word "balls." He almost stood up, told Castiel to forget about it, but Castiel nodded.
Castiel said, "I am interested. And I would like having dinner with you."
The smile on Castiel's face was as serene as the one on his angel.
To prevent anyone from stepping foot upstairs during his Christmas parties, Dean set a plastic, six-foot tree in the middle of the steps. He learned, after his first party in his own home, people weren't tempted to sneak off for embarrassing, drunken make-outs when there was no place for them to comfortably lay out on. Just because it was a back-up tree, Dean didn't scrimp on its decorations. And just because it was a Christmas tree, Dean's tipsy guests didn't spare it from their discards.
"This holiday brings out the worst in people," Castiel grumbled.
Sam laughed, pulling out an abandoned velvet bow from one of the boughs and sticking it on Castiel's head.
Once the last guests had left with their tired designated driver, Sam and Castiel began cleaning Dean's house. They hadn't been able to find Dean, but Castiel could hear light conversation coming from upstairs and he could only assume Dean was there with Donna.
Castiel could never tell which bits of tissue paper were left over from presents and which were Dean's crudely-cut snowflake decorations. After the first year that Castiel helped clean, Sam followed Castiel around to ensure Castiel didn't accidentally throw out something of Dean's again.
Castiel used a sponge to rub at a sticky spot on Dean's mantle leftover from a half-eaten candy cane. He looked up at Sam's psst and walked over at Sam's head bob. Sam directed Castiel to peak around the doorway at Dean and Donna standing in the foyer. They looked like a couple in a vintage ad, Donna holding her heels in her hand, blonde hair curling softly around her face, Dean bashfully helping her into her coat.
"He looks pleased for someone who didn't have sex tonight," Sam said in undertone.
Castiel looked up to respond but stopped when he saw the sprig hanging above Sam's head. Sam's wicked smile twisted down when he caught Castiel's solemn look.
"What?"
Castiel pointed up to the mistletoe hanging over them.
He was barely aware of Dean leading Donna outside, too focused on Sam's lips pressed against his. Sam's lips tasted like rum and eggnog, and Castiel found he didn't mind.
Dean returned inside, indeed looking smug, and Castiel compared Dean’s look to Sam's own look of pleasure. In unspoken agreement, Sam and Castiel kissed underneath every doorway when Dean had his back turned.