[FIC] Drunkenness, Arguments and Eggnog: A Winchester Christmas for blowmecas

[kriari]

Gift type: Fanfic
Title: Drunkenness, Arguments and Eggnog: A Winchester Christmas
Author: carmexgirl
Recipient: blowmecas
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None, AU
Wordcount: 5,300
Summary: Sam returns home for Christmas in the hope that Dean and Castiel have finally gotten their heads out of their asses and admitted their feelings. He’s wrong, and the only solution is to take matters into his own hands for the sake of his sanity.
Author notes: Thanks to my wonderful beta for doing a stirling job on this! I really hope you like it, blowmecas!



Sam always gets excited around the holiday season. There’s just something about going home, no studying to worry about, getting to spend time with his brother and his dad, eating, drinking and generally catching up on everything. It’s always good, even if it means he won’t see Jess for a couple of weeks. He knows he’ll miss her; they’ve practically lived in each other’s pockets this semester, and it’s not like they won’t call and speak to each other or anything. Besides, it’ll give Sam a reason to get excited about going back to Stanford when the holidays were over.

They’d said their goodbyes as Jess’ parents came to pick her up, bringing her beaten up old Beetle so she could drive home. He’d shaken hands with her dad, kissed her mom on the cheek and waved as they all set off. Now he’s sitting in his room, alone, staring at his packed bags and waiting for the familiar roar of the Impala which will signal his brother’s arrival.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Nearly an hour after Jess leaves, he hears the sound of the Impala’s engine, the noise giving him goosebumps all over. He loves that car; he has many happy memories of sitting in the back seat while his dad took him and Dean on roadtrips. It’s his brother’s car now though, and Dean dotes on her more than their dad does. The roar turns to a rumble, before the sound of the engine switches off altogether. Grabbing his bags, Sam makes one final check of his room before locking the door. Sure enough, Dean’s walking up to him, a smile on his face. Behind him, as always, is Dean’s best friend in the world, Castiel.

They’ve been friends for years, ever since Castiel’s family had moved to Lawrence when Sam was four. They were a freaky family, with a lot of brothers and sisters who didn’t really look alike. The younger Castiel was kinda geeky, a little shy with a habit of staring at you like you were some sort of alien species. He and Dean had hit it off straight away; Dean always liking anything slightly left of center, and Castiel was about as left of center as you could get. He’s still geeky now, but in that trench-coat wearing tax accountant way; still off the wall, but more mature with it.

“Hey Sammy! Did you get bigger?” Dean smiles as he pulls him into a hug, slapping his back.

“Dude, I stopped growing when I was sixteen.” Sam hugs his brother back.

“Yeah well, you always look like you’re bigger every time I see you. You been working out?”

“A little.” He pulls away from Dean and walks over to Castiel, where he hugs him too. “Cas, how’re you doing man?”

“I’m good, Sam. Really good.”

“How’s the accountancy going? You earning a fortune yet?”

Castiel smiles. “I wish. I hope you’re studying hard.”

“Yeah. Always man. Always.”

Dean grabs Sam’s bags and carries them over to the car. He puts them in the trunk before getting in, Castiel taking his usual place in the passenger seat. Sam watches from the backseat as Dean and Castiel glance at each other, before Dean starts the engine. The look is enough to give Sam a spark of hope, something to tell him that finally, finally, Dean and Castiel have gotten over themselves and had actually done something about their feelings.

You see, Sam’s known for quite some time that his brother is in love with Castiel. Dean’s never come out and said explicitly, but Sam knows he does, and has done for years. He sees it in the way Dean’s always looking out for him-even at school, when Castiel was always a target for the assholes, Dean had stood up for him, always defended him. Sam had kind of suspected then, but it was only when Castiel came out and got his first boyfriend, and Sam saw the way Dean reacted, saw the intense jealousy Dean had, that Sam knew for sure. Sam’s more or less sure Castiel loves Dean too, not that he would ever admit it.

Sam’s illusion is shattered more or less straight away, when they just slip back into their old routine. The conversation is normal, with no indication that either of them have something important to tell him. If they were together, they wouldn’t be able to keep it quiet, Sam’s sure of that.

Sam sighs. Dean’s a stubborn ass, and despite what he feels for Castiel he won’t say anything. Just won’t. He’d rather keep his reputation as a ladies (and sometimes man’s) man than admit that he actually loves someone. Sam suspects Castiel knows too, but would never make the first move. Instead they just hop on this perpetual merry go round of unspoken feelings and, sometimes, petty jealousy.

The conversation in the car is amiable-they mostly talk about Sam’s degree and what he’s going to do when he graduates. Castiel says he knows of a few training opportunities at his company if Sam wants to become a tax lawyer, but Sam’s not sure. They then descend into a contented silence, happy at being back together again. Sam watches the furtive glances between the two of them, sees Castiel looking at Dean, sees Dean stealing a glance at Castiel when he’s not looking. Things have obviously gotten worse and something’s gotta give, Sam’s sure of it.

It does, kind of, five days later. After spending some time with Dean, Castiel, his dad and his dad’s friend Bobby, they get a telephone call. Apparently their grandfather, Samuel, is sick, so John elects to go and look after him. It’s the only connection they have with their mother, who died when Sam and Dean were both very young, and the news is worrying. John packs up and leaves, telling them he’ll update them as soon as possible.

He does just that a day later. Their grandfather’s got viral pneumonia-it’s been caught early and is being treated so it’s not life threatening, but John estimates he’ll be gone over Christmas. There’s the offer of spending the holidays with their cousins, but Sam and Dean say they’d rather stay and spend it with Bobby who’s got no one else. They’ve never really hit it off with their cousins, truth be told, and the thought of spending the holidays with them, showing off and trying to prove the Campbells are better than the Winchesters…no thanks.

So Sam sets about getting the house decorated. Cas comes over, helping him put up the tree before going to speak to Dean in the kitchen. Sam hums Christmas tunes to himself as he wraps tinsel around the tree and hangs baubles on its branches, before raised voices cause him to stop and listen.

“Balthazar? What the hell are you seeing that asshole for?” Dean sounds pissed.

“He found some possessions of mine that he wants to give back.”

“So what, you’re gonna meet him and just get your stuff, yeah? Do you need me with you?”

“I think I’ll be fine, Dean. I can look after myself.”

Dean snorts. “Yeah right, then he’ll seduce you again with his money and that accent of his, and you’ll just fall back in with him and forget about how he treated you.”

“So you think I’m stupid, and naïve, is that it? Do you know how offensive that is, Dean?” Sam can’t see it, but he knows from experience Castiel is staring Dean down right now.

“I just don’t wanna see you get treated like shit, is all.”

“And I’m not capable of stopping that? I constantly need you peeking over my shoulder, right?”

“I’m not saying that, Cas.”

“So what are you saying exactly? We broke up two months ago. It was never very serious anyway. Do you honestly think I’m that desperate, that I’m that much of an idiot?” Cas sounds angry. Sam sighs, having heard plenty of similar arguments between Dean and Castiel before. Mostly it’s Dean’s passive-aggressive bullshit over Cas’ boyfriends, but Castiel’s had his fair share of hissy fits over Dean’s conquests. They’re both as bad as each other, with neither wanting to admit the real reason behind the arguments.

“I just...I don’t...”

“You should credit me with more intelligence. You don’t need to protect me.”

“I’m not…” Sam can hear the frustration in Dean’s voice, before he finally loses it. “Arrrghhh! Fine!” he shouts. “ Do what you want, Cas. I couldn’t give a crap any more. You wanna see the guy who treated you like garbage and spat you out then do it. You wanna pretend he doesn’t want you back so he can manipulate you then go ahead, be my guest. Don’t come crying on my shoulder again, cos I warned you. Go back to him if you want.”

“I may just do that, Dean.”

“Yeah well, go ahead. I don’t give a shit anymore, Cas.”

“I will! I don’t have any alternative, do I!” Castiel shouts, walking out and slamming the door.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN!? !” Dean shouts after Castiel. He walks into the living room and stares at Sam, red faced and angry, and Sam can’t take this anymore.

“Dean,” he begins. He feels like he has to say something. He doesn’t want his Christmas ruined by Dean’s moping.

“Leave it, Sammy.” Dean’s breathing hard, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Dean…”

“I SAID LEAVE IT, SAM!” Dean shouts, running upstairs to his room.

“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!” Sam shouts to the empty room before kicking the tree over. He can’t stand another Christmas of this, of all the tension and unspoken words. He’s got to sort it out. He has to do something otherwise this will keep continuing.

He does the only thing he can do. He goes to see Bobby.

Bobby’s been a family friend for as long as Sam can remember. He’d always come round, taking his dad off on hunting trips and coming back with wild stories of the things they’d caught. He owns a salvage yard not far from their home, and Dean was always going there as a boy, learning how to fix cars. The fact that he became a mechanic is no surprise at all. Anyway, other than their dad, Bobby’s the guy who knows Dean, Sam and even Castiel the best, so it’s Bobby who Sam goes to when he needs to get something of his chest or ask for impartial advice.

“Coupla idjits!” Bobby exclaims when Sam tells him about the latest row. He knows how they both feel, and over the years it’s taken all of Sam’s willpower to stop him banging their heads together.

“I know,” Sam sighs in exasperation. “I thought they would have sorted something out by now, that one of them would have said something.”

“Dean’s as stubborn as a mule, and Cas…well Cas sure as hell ain’t gonna say anything, man’s far too proud.”

“But I’m kinda scared, Bobby. You know, they have these fights and I’m just scared that one day they won’t make it up again, and that’ll be the end and they’ll never know, never admit it to each other.”

Bobby shakes his head. “Can’t see that happening, Sam. You know as well as I do that Dean’ll do anything for Cas, and Cas’ll do the same. They’ll always be friends. They just gotta get their heads out of their asses and talk to each other.”

“See, that’s what I need your help with. I got another three weeks of this, Bobby, three weeks of them staring at each other, moping, arguing, making up…I gotta do something.”

“So what’re you thinking, boy? Lock ‘em in a closet?”

Sam laughs. “Too cliché. Dean’d just kick the door in. Or Cas’d tear it off its hinges.”

Bobby nods, “Yeah, he would. He’s a strong one.”

Sam taps his fingers on his forehead. “A party.”

Bobby spits in disgust. “Party?”

“Yeah Bobby. I’ll organize a party. It’ll be you, me, Dean, Cas, maybe Jo and Ellen…”

Bobby suddenly looks interested. Sam carries on, “and we’ll do all of that traditional Christmas junk. Then I’ll get them hopped up on eggnog and push them under the mistletoe.”

Bobby stares at him in disbelief. “That’s your plan? You get them drunk and horny?”

“Yeah,” Sam nods. He knows it’s not a brilliant plan, but he figures he’s out of options. Other than trying to get Dean and Castiel to admit their feelings to each other, which Bobby rightly says they’ll never do because one’s too proud and the other’s too stubborn, this is the only thing he can do. “Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do.” He nods decisively.

“Can’t wait to see that,” Bobby mutters to himself.

An argument between Dean and Castiel never lasts long. They’re both stubborn, yes, but they value their friendship too much to make any disagreement linger. A couple of days after their hollering match they’re back to normal. Although Dean refuses to talk about what went on, Cas did go and get his possessions from Balthazar. He admits to Sam when they’re alone that Balthazar did exactly what Dean said he would, using the possessions as an excuse to get him on his own and try to win him back. Castiel had told him very firmly no, and that was the end of it. He’s too stubborn to tell Dean that, though, and the two of them just fall into the same old pattern.

Still, whatever, they were back to normal, which means Sam can put his plan into motion. He finishes decorating the house, and tells Dean and Castiel that they’re required at a little gathering. He uses the fact that his father’s not there to convince them he needs them, that he needs all the family he can get. They agree, and the party is all set.

Sam specifically gives Dean the task of making the eggnog. He does this in the knowledge that Dean puts far too much brandy into the mixture, thinking it’s funny that everyone will be chugging on the stuff until they realize far too late that they’re blind drunk. Sam’s hammering at some mistletoe when the doorbell rings and Castiel enters. He’s carrying a box of homemade gingerbread, which he sets down on the table next to the potato chips and beer. Sam cranes his head to listen as he walks into the kitchen to talk to Dean. From his vantage point at the door, he can just see the two of them.

“You’re putting way too much alcohol in that eggnog, you know that, right?”

Dean turns to him and grins. “That’s the point.”

“To get everyone blind drunk?” Cas widens his eyes.

“It’s a party, Cas. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“Yes, but are you also supposed to wake up the next morning face down on the sidewalk wearing only your boxers?” He smiles a little at this, and Sam can see Dean blushing.

“One time! And I had socks on too.”

Castiel nods. “I know, I remember picking you up and carrying you into the house for fear of the neighbors complaining.”

“Yeah. That was a pretty wild night. From what I can remember.”

“And I bet you can’t remember much, right?” Castiel smiles at him, and Sam grinds his teeth. It’s so painfully obvious that they both adore each other and frustrating that they keep holding back. If Sam does nothing else this holiday, he’s going to get them together. Once and for all.

They continue to talk, and Sam continues to hammer up the mistletoe. He’s hung it practically over every threshold he can, meaning that if anyone passes through a doorway they’re going to end up kissing. He’s even, and he smiles smugly to himself at this, put a little extra under Dean’s pillow, you know, if Dean needs a little extra encouragement.

Soon enough, the doorbell rings. It’s Ellen, with Jo and her boyfriend Adam in tow, and they’ve brought beer. You can always rely on Ellen and Jo to remember the important stuff.

“Hey Sam, how you doing?” Ellen slaps him on the back. “You gonna introduce us to your girl soon?”

“Yeah, Sam,” Jo chimes in, “I wanna know what she’s like. Dean says you’re pretty serious about her.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Dean’s idea of ‘serious’ is if you make it past the two week mark.” Adam laughs loudly. He’s a little younger than they are, but Adam remembers Dean, or rather Dean’s reputation, from High School.

“Yeah,” Sam continues, idly picking at the plastic around the beer cans, “I’m planning on bringing her over for spring break so she can meet everyone. Don’t want to inflict the Winchester Christmas experience on her just yet.”

Ellen laughs. “You guys are an acquired taste, but I’m sure she’ll do fine. You can bring her to the Roadhouse and she can have a special on the house. I’ll even keep the drunks away.”

Sam looks horrified, but then sees a mischievous twinkle in Ellen’s eyes. “Yeah, thanks,” he says, and Ellen throws her head back and laughs. The doorbell rings again signaling Bobby’s arrival, and finally the party can get started. Party’s probably not the right word, though, given that they just put on some music with a very loose Christmas theme, and spend the evening eating and drinking. After taking advantage of every piece of mistletoe they can find, Jo and Adam hole themselves up in a corner, talking and drinking between themselves. Bobby’s on the couch with Ellen, doing his usual “The holidays are a bunch of crap” routine when really, he’s glad to be here with his closest friends. Sam tries being the perfect host, making sure everyone has enough to eat and drink, and Dean and Cas…are nowhere to be seen.

Sam’s stomach trips, hoping that his plan has worked. He walks to the kitchen and peers round the corner. The eggnog has diminished considerably, and Dean and Castiel have the slightly pink-eyed, flushed-cheeked air of drunkenness about them. It’s good; Sam’s just thinking about giving them an extra push when it all goes horribly, spectacularly wrong.

“He did WHAT?” Dean stands up, knocking his chair over. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna fucking KILL him!”

Castiel stands up too, putting his hands in front of him. “Dean, calm down.”

“No, I won’t. Fucking asshole! I shoulda been there. I told you I shoulda been there. I’d have broken his neck.”

“You see, this is why I don’t tell you these things. I handled it. Balthazar won’t bother me anymore. Besides, I tried to call you and you weren’t picking up. At all. I called you three times.”

“Yeah well, I was busy.”

“Busy doing what? Before, you were willing to be the ‘big man’ who helped me because I’m so weak, and then suddenly you’re too busy. So what were you doing, Dean, huh?”

Dean thinks for a while, then goes quiet. Sam knows from experience that this never ends well. “Well…I knew you’d gone to Balthazar’s so I paid Anna a visit. Thought if you were gonna get back with a screwy ex who was so controlling he stopped you from seeing your best friend, I’d go and see one of mine.”

Sam puts his hands in front of his face. He wants to shout, to scream no; his plan is unraveling in front of his very eyes and he can’t do anything other than watch it happen.

“WHAT?” Castiel’s brought himself up to his full height now, and he’s shooting a look that Sam and Dean in his younger days had called ‘the Death Stare.’ “She’s crazy.”

“No she’s not. Besides, what’s it to you if she is? You were too busy getting back with Balthazar.”

“She tried to stick a knife into you. Why in the hell would you put yourself in danger? Why the hell would you be so stupid?” Castiel’s face is red with anger, his eyes wide with something Sam knows as worry. He’s right, too. Anna was one screwy bitch with a dangerous streak.

There were a number of things Dean could have done at this point, Sam thinks later. He could have made up some excuse like Anna needed help and he was being a gentleman, or even told the truth and said he was so scared of losing Cas again he was despondent and desperate. Instead, Dean reverts to the very essence of his apparently emotionally-stunted character and screams, full in Castiel’s face: “Cos she was a good fuck!”

Oh shit. Now that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Suddenly the whole house goes deathly silent. The music and the chatter magically stop at that point, and all ears are on the kitchen. Dean stares at Castiel, his chest going up and down as he gulps in air. Castiel stares back, saying nothing but breathing equally as hard. He then walks slightly unsteadily to where his trenchcoat is folded over a chair, picks it up and puts it on, and silently leaves through the back door.

Dean just stares at him, saying nothing but watching his movements intently. The door closes. Dean looks at Sam for reassurance, huffing out a breath when he gets none. In fact, Sam does the exact opposite.

“Asshole.” He says as he steps into the kitchen.

“What?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“What the fuck? You heard what he said.”

“Yeah, Dean, I did. And you know what, you’re a fucking asshole.”

“He was gonna…he was gonna go back to Balthazar…”

“No he wasn’t, you dick. You just don’t get it, do you? He went to get his stuff back, that’s it. It’s you, and your diseased mind that made it into something else.”

“That creep made a pass at him. Cas told me.”

“Yeah, a pass he rejected. Credit him with some sense! He doesn’t need Sir Dean, his knight in shining armor to take care of him you know, he can do it himself. And why the fuck you went to Anna’s I don’t know. You’re an idiot.”

“I didn’t go,” Dean says quietly.

“WHAT?” Sam’s incredulous.

“I said I didn’t go, okay? I just…I didn’t want Cas to tell me he was back with that prick so I just turned my phone off.”

“So why did you lie?”

“I dunno.”

Sam can’t take it anymore. “ARRRGHHH!” He screams, closing his eyes and hitting the table with his fists. When he stops, Dean is staring at him in disbelief. “You…idiot! Why can’t you just tell him, Dean? Why can’t you just admit how you feel about him?”

“He’s my best friend, Sam. He knows how I feel about him.”

“Bullshit. You love him, Dean.”

“I…”

“Don’t give me that crap. I know you love him, and I know he loves you too, and you just need to get your heads outta your asses and deal with it so we can all move on.”

“He…what?” Dean’s eyes are wide with shock.

Sam sighs. “He loves you, Dean.”

Dean shakes his head. “Nah, nah he doesn’t.”

Sam walks over to him, grabbing the material of his shirt and pulling him upwards so their faces are almost in line. “Yes he does,” he says through gritted teeth, “And if you don’t go out there and tell him, and sort this shit out, I am never coming home again, you understand? This is the last you’ll see of me. For once, grow some balls, Dean.”

“Fuck you. He’s gone.”

“He’s on the fucking porch, Dean.” Sam watches as Dean turns around to look out of the window, seeing the back of Castiel as he sits on the steps leading to the garden. “Now go.”

Sam practically pushes him out the door, before slamming it shut and sitting down in a chair, his arms folded. They’re going to admit their feelings, even if he has to sit there and watch them do it.

Dean hasn’t shut the back door properly, and Sam finds that if he listens carefully, he can just about hear what the two of them are saying. Dean stands there for a while, wringing his hands and muttering an apology, before he sees an invitation from Castiel to sit beside him.

“I didn’t,” Dean begins, “I didn’t go to Anna’s. I just said that because I was angry and a prick and I’m sorry, Cas.”

“So why wasn’t your cell switched on?”

“Because…I didn’t want to hear it, ok? I knew I’d be the first person you’d call, telling me you’d decided to give it another go with Balthazar and I didn’t want to hear it.”

There’s silence for a moment, before Dean speaks again, quieter this time. “I didn’t want to hear that I was losing you again, Cas. I couldn’t bear it.”

Castiel sighs. “You would never have lost me. I wouldn’t be that stupid. I wish…I wish sometimes you would credit me with more sense.”

‘Go Dean,’ Sam thinks, ‘Tell him!’ he whispers. His heart is beating probably as fast as Dean’s is about now, and if he wasn’t so tense, he’d wonder when he turned into such a sap.

“I do, Cas. And I know you could’ve handled him. You’ve known me for nearly all of my life now, and you know how I get. I shout and act irrationally and I don’t tell people how I really feel because I’m an idiot when it comes to that stuff.”

Sam tenses, because he knows the inevitable question. He only hopes Dean has the guts to give Castiel the real answer.

Castiel turns to look Dean in the face. “So how do you really feel?”

There’s a pause where Dean looks away for a beat. He coughs and turns back to Castiel, looking at him straight in the eyes. Sam can see him take in a large breath, and excitement coils in his stomach. “I love you, Cas. I’ve loved you for years and never had the balls to say it. I get jealous when you’re with other people because all the time I just think what I’m missing out on, what I could have if I had the guts to say it. I act like an asshole because I’m scared of admitting how I feel. I’m fed up of this merry go round and I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I love you, more than anything but if I can’t have you that way, I don’t want to lose what we have. It would kill me, Cas.”

Castiel stares at Dean for a moment, before talking a deep, shaky breath. “I love you too, Dean. I always have.” It’s choked, and Sam thinks if he could see Castiel’s face clearly there would be tears in his eyes.

They sit there in silence for a moment, before Dean asks, “So what are we going to do?”

Sam can’t stand this anymore. He walks over to the door and taps on the glass. They both look around, and he points above them where he’s hammered some mistletoe. They look up together, and chuckle before turning to face each other. Dean makes the first move, leaning over to Castiel and putting his hand on his cheek. He presses their lips together and they kiss, chastely and hesitant at first as though they’re both shy. They pull away and stare at each other, smiling.

The second kiss is anything but chaste. Dean crushes their lips together and the kiss goes from tentative to passionate in the blink of an eye. Hands are suddenly everywhere as Dean and Castiel seemingly try to devour each other. If it were anyone else Sam would be fairly disgusted, but because it’s them, and knowing how long it’s taken for them to get here, Sam’s happy.

Suddenly there’s a noise from behind him, and he turns to see Ellen, Jo, Adam and Bobby all staring at him. They see Dean and Castiel outside, with Dean practically on top of Cas and kissing the life out of him, and erupt into a huge cheer.

“Thank fuck for that!” Ellen exclaims, clapping her hands. Dean stops and looks back into the house. He sees everyone watching them and tries to hide his face in Castiel’s coat, flipping everyone the bird. “That’s the last time I do anything for you!” Sam shouts through the door. “Ok guys, no one wants to see my brother making out with his best friend…back in the other room. I gotta deck of cards and a wallet that says no one can beat me at Poker.”

“You better put your money where your mouth is, Winchester,” Ellen retorts.

“You betcha.” They all walk back into the living room, sitting down around the battered old coffee table. Sam deals the cards, listening to the sound of the porch door opening, laughing, and two sets of frantic footsteps running up the stairs. The door to Dean’s room slams shut, and Sam suppresses a laugh when he hears Dean exclaim “Sneaky bastard!” He’s evidently found the mistletoe under his pillow.

Presently, the laugher and trash talk of the poker game is punctuated by the muffled sounds of sex upstairs. Again, Sam wonders why he’s not affected-normally, the sound of his brother getting it on with anyone, let alone Cas would freak him out. He puts it down to the beer, the eggnog and the sense of pride he gets knowing he was right.

It’s an epic game of Poker, but as usual, Ellen wins. Sam is gracious in defeat, and Ellen admits that he has improved a lot. He doesn’t tell her that Jess is probably one of the best Poker players he knows, and when she comes to meet everyone during spring break they’re gonna play teams and wipe the floor with them. Everyone thinks Dean got all the wily cunning in the family; they never suspect that Sam Winchester is a sneaky bastard.

The evening winds down after that. Everyone seems to have that tired, contented expression on their faces. The clock strikes 12, signaling Christmas Day, and everyone starts to leave. Sam goes into the kitchen to get coats, and sees Dean pouring juice. He’s naked except for his boxers, there’s hickeys on his torso, his hair is all mussed up and he has this giddy look in his eyes. He can’t stop smiling.

“How’s it going?” Sam asks.

Dean grins, full-toothed and genuine. “It’s awesome.” He takes one last swig before closing the fridge and heading back upstairs. As he passes Sam he stops, and gives him a hug. Sam tries to ignore the heady scent of sex coming from him. “Thanks, man. From me and Cas.”

“No worries. You big jerk.”

Dean’s far too giddy to even reply. He watches as Dean practically skips upstairs. He goes into the lounge and passes everyone their coats. He gives each of them a hug, wishing them happy holidays as they leave. Bobby’s the last one to go, and before he steps out of the door he stops, turning to Sam.

“Well done, boy,” he says. “Mission accomplished.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

He turns off the lights and sits in the darkness for a while, before walking up the stairs to his own room. Dean’s door is open a crack, and he can just see him and Cas, naked and half under the covers, curled tightly around each other and sleeping contentedly. “Yeah,” he whispers to himself, smiling, “Mission accomplished.”

-fin-