Present for an Angel
***
“Dean, it’s Christmas Eve.”
Dean Winchester slipped his arm around Castiel and slid closer. The top of the Impala groaned under the weight of the two men and Dean caressed the cold, black metal, whispering words of encouragement to Baby under his breath. The crisp air turned Dean’s nose a soft shade of pink, causing the many freckles under his eyes to shine orange in the moonlight. Castiel spent many a night attempting to count the exact number of freckles that sat under the eyes and on the bridge of the nose that belonged to his Righteous Man. Castiel never counted higher than 223, but he was sure there were more than that, and often started over just to make sure.
“I know, Cas. Why do you think we’re sitting out here in the cold, staring at a half finished snowman, drinking hot cocoa out of this old Thermos?” Dean grumbled as he pulled his angel boyfriend closer. “It’s goddamn freezing out here.”
“It’s very beautiful, Dean.” Castiel tilted his head to rest on Dean’s shoulder, pulling the woven blanket to rest up under their chins. He looked out onto the white snow that covered the streets and sighed “If you do not enjoy this, we can go back to the bunker. Sam must be wondering where we are by now.”
Dean shifted on the hood of the Impala, causing Baby to let out another desperate whimper. He snaked his free hand around Castiel’s waist, locking fingers behind the angel’s back. “I like spending time with you away from everybody else. It’s nice. Just, well, hold on a sec,” he said, already jumping off the car and onto the thick layer of snow below. “I’ve got something for you.”
Castiel rested the Thermos on Baby’s hood and turned to watch Dean fumble around in the trunk of the Impala. His blue eyes lit up with joy as he saw what Dean had in his hands. “A present! Oh, Dean.” Cas leaned in to kiss his hunter, taking Dean by the back of the neck. Both men closed their eyes, and for a moment, forgot about demons and angels, regrets and bad choices. All that remained was a snowy Christmas Eve, a hastily made snowman and two people brought together by incredible circumstances, who just happened to fall in love. There was no other direction their story could have taken. Not really. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“You needed this, buddy. Trust me.”
Castiel turned the package over and over in his hands. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a shoelace. “A shoelace, Dean?” Castiel smirked.
Dean looked down at his feet and rubbed his hand across his stubbled face, up into his hair. “It’s Sammy’s. Don’t tell him I gave it to you. Actually, I should probably…”
“You can have it back, Dean. May I?” Castiel asked as he unceremoniously ripped into the paper. The shoelace fell to the ground and Dean picked it up and shoved it into his pocket.
“He’d better not bitch about it being wet, either,” Dean said quietly.
“Dean!”
Dean looked up, the smile on his face so big that the lines on the side of his eyes crinkled up. He knew he’d done good. When he saw it at the thrift store, Dean couldn’t pass up the chance to make his angel smile. Their lives weren’t always happy, they rarely got the chance to just act normal and be themselves. This coat had become a symbol of Castiel’s identity. When he lost it, Dean knew it broke Cas‘ heart. Each time Cas had gone away, each time he’d come back, he’d worn that same damn coat. It was part of his uniform as much as the army green anorak and Baby was a part of Dean’s. If Cas planned to hunt with the Winchesters using another angel’s grace, Dean wanted him to feel confident. Cas needed his angel armor back. Castiel pulled the tan trenchcoat out of the paper wrapping and raised it up in front of him to admire. The tag was still on it, and Dean blushed a little as he grabbed the jacket from Cas and tore off the tell-tale sticker. “Let me.” Dean lifted the coat up to Cas’ shoulders and helped him into it. Cas snuggled into the jacket, and threw his arms around Dean, this time kissing him slow and hard. Castiel ran his hands down Dean’s spine and pulled the man close. Dean wanted to stay like this, alone with Cas, locked together, until he couldn’t breath, couldn’t think of anything but Castiel.
“Dean.” Cas whispered his partner’s name against his lips like a prayer. The sound went straight to Dean’s belly, creating a warm stir down deep inside of him. “Thank you.”
Castiel pulled his new-used tan trenchcoat around him tight, but he didn’t bother to button it up. He never did. Dean supposed angel’s didn’t really get cold. Not unless they wanted to. Castiel had once told him that angel senses worked differently than humans. The angel had to chose to feel--everything from pain, to pleasure, cold and heat--they were all constructs of free will. Dean knew that Castiel had chosen to stay with him. In spite of all Dean’s flaws and mistakes, Cas kept coming back for him. Kept pulling him from Hell.
Dean smiled. “Are we gonna finish that snowman, or what? He needs a head, dammit. And I brought a carrot and coals.”
“Why would we need those items, Dean? Are you hungry again? You’re always hungry.”
“It’s for the...nevermind, Cas. Lemme show you how it’s done.”
The End
written by The Collectiva Diva