all is calm, all is bright
It is fifteen minutes until midnight on Christmas Eve. Sam and Jack have long gone to bed, leaving Dean and Cas on the couch to watch the end of It’s A Wonderful Life. The Christmas tree they picked up from a tree farm a week ago sparkles in the corner of the room, a few presents resting beneath its twinkling lights and ornaments.
Dean is on his third — wait maybe fourth, rum and egg nog when the credits start rolling. He downs the rest of the glass and sighs when it slides smoothly down his throat, warming him from the inside out. He looks over at Cas and smiles, all sloppy in his drunken state.
“Now you get the Clarence thing huh?”
“I do,” Cas admits, and Dean watches him smile fondly at the memories of the nickname.
“It fits you, ya know cause you do a lot of saving, especially me, so if Meg was right about anything it was that,” Dean says and immediately curses his lack of inhibition.
Cas chuckles and it sounds bright amidst the music playing from the credits. Dean stares at him in the glow of the lights, the curve of his nose, the outline of his profile.
“Are you going to bed?” Cas asks, and it breaks Dean out of his lovestruck stupor. The screen is black now, movie finished and Dean feels his cheeks heat up in being caught staring.
“Nah, I figured I’d stay down here awhile listen to some music. Kinda like how peaceful it is, ya know?”
Cas nods in understanding, then asks, “Do you mind if I stay?”
“Not at all,” Dean says. He pats Cas’ shoulder as he gets up to walk over to the record player. He sifts through his records and finds one with a selection of classic Christmas songs and puts it on. He keeps the volume low, but loud enough that if fills the room with soft music.
Dean hovers by the tree, looking at the branches, admiring how the ornaments twinkle in the light. It’s not often he’s gotten to have a Christmas tree on Christmas. Hotels weren’t feasible for that. It’s nice having real decorations and a loving, found family to share it with. He smiles when he looks up at the angel on the tree. Cas had been grumpy about the stereotypical female angel with long white robes and curled blonde hair they’d picked up at the store. He was very adamant that wasn’t actually what he or any other angels looked like, so of course Dean had to get it. He made sure she had blue eyes though, so at least there was something sort of accurate.
He hears footsteps approach his side and glances over as Cas steps up next to Dean. The first notes of Silent Night start drifting out of the player and Dean catches Cas smiling in amusement.
“These songs are incredibly fascinating and nothing like what actually happened. One day I’ll have to tell you the real story,” Cas says.
Dean feels a warm palm brush against the side of his hand and loses all ability to breathe. Cas’ fingers glide along the inside of Dean’s wrist and slide down, Dean recognizes it as the question it is and answers by catching Cas’ fingers between his and holding tight.
Cas moves closer and joins their hands, tangling his fingers with Dean’s. He arches an eyebrow and Dean smiles, bashful like he feels and steps fully into Cas’ orbit. Cas moves even closer and slides his other hand around Dean’s back. It’s a little awkward at first, neither of them that great at dancing, so they end up just swaying along to the chorus of Silent Night echoing throughout the room.
During the last stanza, Cas leans in and rests his forehead against Dean’s, bumping their noses together and tightens his hold on Dean’s lower back. A giddy sort of happiness Dean hasn’t felt in… well ever, settles home deep in his chest. He closes his eyes, smiles, and squeezes Cas’ hand tangled with his.
It’s not everything he wanted for Christmas, but it’s enough.
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