6 Mistletoe Tradition
Sam found himself leaning in doorways a lot more than normal this time of year, usually the one to the kitchen so he could watch Dean cook without Dean noticing he was there. He tried to stay out of Dean’s way while he was in the kitchen because he loved the way Dean moved when he thought no one was watching. Looser, a little more sway to his hips, moving to an unheard tune, more expressive, more Dean. If he took a few minutes extra a day to just soak in the beautiful sight of his brother, happy as was possible given their lives, bopping around the kitchen, then you could just bugger right off if you thought it was wrong. He needed this, it was something to replace the bad stuff with. It got easier to forget about the Lucifer and Toni Bevel problems when Dean was there in front of his eyes, gracefully running through the motions of cooking some extra complicated dinner for the holidays.
“You’re watching me again, cut it out,” Dean said, slurping a taste of the gravy off a serving spoon.
Sam straightened up from his slouch agains the door frame and huffed loudly. “I was not, just coming in to get some tea.” He gestured with his empty tea mug, brought along just for this cover story.
Dean came closer with one hand outstretched, he was holding a perfectly formed dinner roll on a napkin. Sam reached out to grab it but Dean moved it away. His eyes twinkled with that mischievous glow that should have warned Sam. Sam stepped a foot closer in the center of the doorway, so focused on the glistening dinner roll that Dean was holding out of his reach that he didn’t notice something tapping the crown of his head.
That’s why it was a surprise that instead of being handed a freshly baked dinner roll, Sam found himself with an armload of Dean and his lips grazing his with a perfect softness that took his breath away. Dean’s arms around his neck pulled him down and Sam could feel Dean’s body stretching up to meet him. He turned Dean’s head just the slightest bit so that they fit and kissed him back for real this time. Full on, tongue and teeth and hands everywhere. It was all-consuming and mind-blowing, he’d never thought Dean would be so pliable and perfect, or that he’d ever kiss him.
Sam pulled back from the kiss and asked in a murmur, “Why now?” It had been a good fifteen years since he’d tried to kiss Dean and been rebuffed, told that it wasn’t right, that they shouldn’t and couldn’t and wouldn’t. Sam’s heart had broken, but he’d never gotten over it, not all the way. He felt like his teenage dreams were coming true but he wasn’t ready to trust that it was anything real.
Dean didn’t answer he just looked up in the space just over Sam’s head. Sam turned to follow his eyes and was hit in the top of his forehead with a piece of yellow-green mistletoe, tied with a red ribbon, hanging from the doorway where it had been hung with a thumbtack and fishing line.
“Did you put this up?” Sam asked.
“No, it was Cas. He was watching something about holiday traditions and found some mistletoe bunches growing in one of our oak trees.” Dean pulled Sam back down for another long, soul-scorching kiss that had the both of them panting hard and fast.
“Why now, though?” Sam asked again, sure that there was more to this than just Cas’ holiday fixation. They’d been around hanging mistletoe many times over the years.
“All the stuff in the last year, all the times I thought I’d lost you for good, or that you’d never want to stay, and we’re still here. I thought it was time to trust that.”
Sam took the initiative this time, thanking Dean for his trust and love and everything else that they shared with a kiss that made Dean swoon a little in his arms. He held Dean against him and didn’t tease him, because he felt the same. The buzzer in the kitchen went off, interrupting them.
Dean pulled away reluctantly. “Sorry, Sammy, dinner’s gotta get finished. Come help me?”
Sam nodded and entered the kitchen, unsure what he could contribute since Dean always shooed him away. Dean wrapped an apron around him, just as an excuse to have his hands on his ass, Sam was pretty sure. He pointed at a pile of green beans, “You can cut the ends off of these.” He leaned up and kissed Sam quickly, then ducked his head to hide his blush, turning away to stir the gravy again. Sam’s heart swelled with proof that the kissing wasn’t just a mistletoe-related thing.
Their mom and Cas showed up a few minutes later, ready to sit down for Christmas Eve dinner as a family for the first time. Sam couldn't stop touching his lips at the table, the memory of Dean’s lips on his still seemed so unreal. He saw Dean notice and smile widely, touching his own lips. Sam couldn’t keep up with the dinner conversation, watching Dean’s mouth moving, talking, eating, drinking, it was all too distracting. As they washed the dinner dishes he was surprised when Dean kissed his cheek as they stood side-by-side at the sink.
“You’ve gotta cut that out, Dean,” Sam said with a low growl, one hand on the small of Dean’s back.
Dean leaned a little into Sam’s touch and grinned at him, one-sided and teasing. “Why, don’t you want me to?”
“I do, but I’m not sure I can stop myself,” Sam admitted, fingers pressing into the top of Dean’s ass.
“Well don’t then,” Dean said, stepping closer. Sam put down the plate he was rinsing and trapped Dean against the sink edge. He pressed their bodies close and held onto Dean’s face. He brought their lips together and kissed Dean until he could feel Dean hardening against him. They separated when they heard Cas and Mary talking in the hall.
“Is that mistletoe?” Mary asked. “I had no idea that would still be a thing.”
“It’s an ancient tradition I thought was worth continuing,” Cas answered.
Dean bumped his hip against Sam and chuckled. Sam bumped his hip back and smiled. Cas had no idea how much they’d always appreciate mistletoe.
7 With Bells On Everything
“I can’t believe they had an elf outfit that fit you,” Dean said, adjusting the curling toes of his elf slippers.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this being a case,” Sam said, tugging at the crotch of the elf costume which really didn’t fit. The bright red overalls were about two inches short, riding above his ankles and he didn’t want to think about how they were going to feel in the crotch area at the end of their workday shuffling kids on and off of the Santa Express. The little train that took kids off to Santa’s Workshop where they got to meet up with the head elf himself.
Dean tugged the elf hat down a little harder and pinched Sam’s cheeks. “But you look adorable, Sammy. I just want to eat you up.”
Sam pulled Dean into his arms and nuzzled into his neck. “Later, Dean, I’m gonna eat out your little elf ass, but for now we’ve got to do this case of yours and deal with Santa-crazed kids all day.”
Ten hours later and Sam wished he had put his foot down about not taking this case. A rakshasa after all these years, still hard to beat, especially when they hadn’t thought to bring any brass knives with them. Hard to fit too many weapons into the elf outfits. Sam stood between the rakshasa and Dean, waving a piece of the decorative background in front of him. It was a brass colored pole, sharp on one end and he was hoping it’d be good enough. All he knew was he had to stop it from getting at Dean again, it had flung Dean into the train car after dragging him through most of the holiday scenery boards.
Sam listened for any noises, but couldn’t hear if Dean was even awake, much less alive. But he couldn’t think about that, not now. He slashed the brass pole through the air towards the thing and it leapt back, just out of his reach, obviously trying to lead him into stepping away from protecting Dean. He feinted left then corrected right, and made contact with its center, the sharp end of the brass pole slipping through as the rakshasa flamed out into ash.
Sam dropped the pole and turned to check on Dean. His eyes were fluttering open, as he lay across the train car’s child-sized seats in a way that looked like he had broken several limbs or had just had the fuck of his life. “You okay, Dean?”
“Didja get ‘im, Sammy?” Dean slurred with a small dopey smile.
Sam held back a laugh as he swept his hands over Dean in the efficient manner they’d been taught by their father, assess, prioritize, stop the bleeding, etc. “Yeah, I got him, Dean.” He propped Dean up in his arms, using the train car seats to help brace him steady. He stood up to prepare for hoisting Dean up the rest of the way when Dean screamed, “Behind you, ten o’clock!”
Sam whirled around and dove for the brass pole, his fingers touched it and he shifted it back towards Dean before he got dragged through the broken scenery, it tore at his clothes and skin, his head hit hard too many times and he blacked out. He came back to himself only to see Dean crouched in front of him, blocking the second rakshasa from getting at him again. Dean had managed to get his hands on the brass pole and was stabbing towards the thing. It leapt overhead, trying to get past Dean to finish off Sam, but Dean surged up just in time, gutting it into a flying cloud of ash that settled over them.
Dean crouched down at Sam’s side, his turn to check Sam for injuries. “Think two rakshasa’s are enough for today?”
“Yeah, I think so. You still think I’m good enough to eat?” Sam asked, turning to lick at Dean’s hand as it made its way down his cheek checking for injuries.
“Always, especially in this outfit,” Dean said, grinning wide, hands no longer on the injury-checking routine, now going over into the Drive-Sam-Wild-routine.
Sam writhed under Dean’s hands, hips surging up for more contact. “Dean, stop teasing.”
“Oh, baby, we both know you don’t mean that,” Dean purred, unbuttoning Sam’s elf jumpsuit with his teeth, taking one button at a time, licking his way down the skin that was revealed.
Sam held onto the elf hat that was still somehow on Dean’s head after that fight, the bells jingled as Dean’s head began to bob up and down. “You’re a busy little elf, aren’t you,” Sam moaned.
Dean looked up at him with those big green eyes of his, heavy-lidded with lust, he smiled around Sam’s cock and winked. He dove back down, taking Sam all the way in, deep into his throat. Sam clutched at the elf hat harder and fucked up into Dean’s mouth, yelling out tender obscenities that no one would remember. Dean licked him clean and then sat back on his heels. His own elf costume had a large wet spot that Sam pressed a hand into, Dean was still hard. He unbuttoned the two bottom buttons and took Dean out, and licked the wetness away. He moaned with the taste, “Always taste so good, Dean.”
Dean began to thrust into Sam’s mouth, deep and fast. Sam choked a bit and held Dean’s hips with his hands, bruise-tight and perfect. He slowed the motion down, sucking harder and longer, making Dean gasp with how good it was. Sam looked up at Dean and gave back the same wink that had gotten him earlier. Dean moaned and thrust in hard and fast, coming with a shout that rang out through the empty Winter Wonderland. Sam licked him clean and tucked him back inside his coveralls.
“Think they’d want these costumes back?” Dean asked as he helped Sam to his feet. Sam wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him steady.
Sam laughed so hard that the bells on his elf hat began to ring out. “Pretty sure they’re a lost cause, let’s call them an early Christmas bonus,” Sam answered as they helped each other stagger back to the Impala.