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Strings of rainbow Christmas lights welcomed Dean as he stepped onto Cas’ porch. He eyed them approvingly; not a single light was burnt out or out of place. And if someone looked closely, they’d realize that Cas had painstakingly spent two hours switching out bulbs so the strands lit up in the colours of the Pride flag – red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. The purple ones had been a bitch to find.
Shuffling his bags to one hand, he knocked once before letting himself in. “Cas?”
Wearing a green Henley loose over his lounge pants and a Santa hat, Cas appeared out of the bedroom with a smile.
“Hello, Dean. Merry Christmas Eve.” Cas leaned in to snag a chaste kiss as Dean handed him the bags so he could take off his coat. Underneath, he wore a festive green and red plaid and a vintage black t-shirt that said “Nakatomi Plaza Christmas Party 1988”.
“That gift bag can go under the tree,” Dean directed while he toed off his boots. “The shopping bag can go in the kitchen.”
“What did you bring?” Cas set the red and white bag down in front of his spindly little evergreen. Modestly-sized it might have been, but it was covered in a brilliant array of homemade decorations. Strings of popcorn and looped paper garlands wrapped around the branches, while handmade clay ornaments covered in glitter shone in the light. A carefully-crafted origami paper star held pride of place at the top of the tree.
“Hey, did you take down the tree air fresheners?” Dean asked.
“Yes, I did. The smell was giving me a headache. I think the tree looks fine without them.” Cas flicked one of the clay ornaments, sending it dancing in the light.
“That one’s mine, don’t break it!” Dean chided.
Cas laughed and took the shopping bag into the kitchen. “Don’t worry, Dean. The ornaments are fine. Though I did give our popcorn string a second look on Tuesday.”
Dean grinned and followed him into the kitchen, wrapping him up in a hug from behind. “We didn’t plan for the munchies when we made the decorations, huh?”
Cas leaned his head back on Dean’s shoulder as he unpacked the groceries. “What are we making tonight?”
Dean pushed the Santa hat pom out of his face and kissed Cas’ neck. “Martha’s macaroni and cheese. And I brought Christmas pudding and rum sauce for dessert.”
“Who’s Martha?”
“Martha Stewart, Cas. The Martha.”
Cas ground his heel onto Dean’s toes. “Is the Christmas pudding also Martha’s?”
“Ow! No, that’s Bobby’s recipe.”
“The Bobby?” Cas teased.
Dean rolled his eyes and dropped his arms, allowing Cas to escape. He reached for the jar of flour that now sat on Cas’ counter. “C’mere and I’ll teach you how to make a roux.”
~~
With Martha’s Macaroni in the oven, Cas pulled Dean into the living room to sit on the couch. “Rudolph or Frosty?” He asked, cueing up the TV.
“Die Hard.”
Cas turned towards him and raised an eyebrow.
“What? It’s not Christmas until Hans Grubber has fallen out of Nakatomi Tower!” Dean protested.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Die Hard. I assume it’s not an animated cartoon?”
Dean pulled Cas close and nuzzled against his cheek. “I can’t believe my boyfriend hasn’t seen Die Hard.”
Cas propped a leg up on the couch and leaned into his warmth. “Fine. Rudolph first. We can watch your movie second.”
“You won’t regret it,” Dean promised. He tilted Cas’ chin slightly and met his lips. Cas turned more fully towards him, wrapping a hand around Dean’s neck and kissing him again as Sam the Snowman appeared on screen.
Dean breathed in Cas’ honey scent, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling Cas half onto his lap as he slid his tongue across his bottom lip, seeking entry. He sighed a little as Cas parted his lips, granting him access as the kiss deepened. He licked into Cas’ mouth, tilting his head slightly to the side to get closer, closer. The damn pom on the Santa hat smacked him in the eyes.
“Could we lose this, maybe?” He pulled the hat off Cas’ head and ran his fingers through his messy hair. Cas groaned, nipping Dean’s bottom lip, then soothing it with his tongue. He pulled back, wet lips trailing across Dean’s cheek, catching his ear lobe in his mouth and tugging lightly. Dean leaned his head to the side, granting access to his neck. He wrapped a calloused palm around Cas’ nape to keep him in place. Cas chuckled darkly and twisted to pull his legs out from under him so he could straddle Dean’s lap. His teeth grazed Dean’s neck as he nosed aside the collar of his plaid.
“Why do you wear so many layers all the time?” He complained, drawing back to run his hands down Dean’s chest.
Dean gazed up at him, eyes dark and lips slick. “I may be cheap, but I’m not easy, Cas. You gotta work for it.” He winked.
Sitting back on Dean’s knees, Cas whipped the t-shirt up to Dean’s chest and blew a wet raspberry right on his stomach.
“Gross, get out of here!” Dean laughed, shoving Cas back onto the couch and wiping the wet spot with his t-shirt.
Cas crossed his arms and pouted on the far side of the couch where he’d landed. Dean sighed and pulled his arms out of the plaid, balling it up and throwing it over by the door. “There, happy?” He made grabby hands at Cas until he caved in and settled next to Dean again. “Who knew you were so dramatic,” Dean said, kissing his cheek.
“I like your skin, Dean. I like touching you. If I had my way, I’d chain you to my bed and you’d never wear clothes,” Cas muttered.
Dean drew in a breath as his pants suddenly became a size too small. They hadn’t gone there yet. Sure, they’d traded hand jobs a couple times (three times, his brain helpfully supplied) but there definitely hadn’t been any chains involved. They hadn’t even moved to the bedroom, yet. Not that Dean was opposed to chains. Did Cas have restraints in his room? Would Cas really tie him up? What would that feel like, being strapped down, unable to break free, while Cas touched him all over? Maybe he’d use his tongue. Dean wondered if –
“Dean! Did you short-circuit?” Cas poked him, clearly not for the first time.
“What?” Dean asked dumbly, just as the timer went off for the macaroni.
Cas smirked. “Saved by the bell.”
~~
They ate at the small wooden dining table where they’d been studying together for four months. Cas had laid out a colourful tablecloth and bought poinsettia-decorated paper plates and napkins for the occasion. Red pillar candles sent dancing shadows across the walls. Covid had interrupted Cas’ plans to spend Christmas with Gabriel, so tomorrow they were headed to Bobby’s for a full Christmas dinner. But tonight was just for them.
Cas wrapped the leftovers and washed the dishes while Dean served up two bowls of Christmas pudding and heated the rum sauce.
Cas wrinkled his nose at the potent odour. “Is that just hot rum?” He asked.
Dean grinned. “It’s cream and butter and rum and sugar. This is the way Bobby always made it. You could probably light it on fire,” he admitted.
He drizzled the sauce generously over the bowls of carrot pudding and carried them into the living room. “Should we do presents now?” He asked hopefully.
Cas smiled softly. “Don’t you want to eat your pudding first?”
Dean made quick work of his bowl. (“Dean, are you chewing at all?” “It’s pudding, Cas. You don’t need to chew it.”)
“I should make you wait until tomorrow,” Cas threatened. “It’s not Christmas until tomorrow.”
Dean’s face fell a little but he rallied with a smile. “If you want to wait, that’s cool.” He sat back on the couch and fiddled with his spoon.
A slight look of alarm crossed Cas’ face at Dean’s easy capitulation. “Fine!” Cas put down his half-empty pudding. “Here, open this while I finish.” Pulling a flat box out from under the tree, he thrust it into his boyfriend’s hands.
Dean stared at the box. It was perfectly wrapped in shiny silver paper, secured with a brilliant red ribbon. “I can wait –“
Cas sighed exasperatedly. “I’m just teasing, Dean. I’d really rather open our gifts tonight when it’s just us. One of mine is rather…personal.” Cas looked down at his bowl and fidgeted with his spoon.
“Oh, okay, so I’ll just…” Dean gestured at the present in his lap, as if his one hand wasn’t already carefully prying the tape up.
When Cas gave him that beautiful scrunched-nose smile, he gave up and tore into the wrapping, scattering the ribbon and the paper on the floor. He fumbled to get the lid of the box off, and found two t-shirts folded neatly inside. The first simply stated, “Han shot first.” The second showed Darth Vader, with text that read “This suit cost an arm and a leg”. Dean snorted with laughter.
“Are those appropriate?” Cas asked worriedly. “I generally don’t understand your t-shirts but I do understand that they’re double entendres. Charlie assured me that these would be suitable additions to your collection.”
Dean leaned over and kissed him, using his thumb to smooth away the worry between his eyebrows. “These are awesome, Sweetheart. I love them. We’ll have to add all the Star Wars movies to our list.”
“At this rate, we’re going to spend every night in 2021 watching movies,” Cas said. He picked up the empty bowls and took them back to the kitchen while Dean re-folded his shirts and set them aside. He slipped off the couch to sit next to the gift bag he’d brought. As Cas came back to the couch, Dean handed him a floppy gift.
Cas smiled at the Scooby Do wrapping paper. “Where did you find that?” He traced Scooby in a Santa hat.
“Amazon special order,” Dean confirmed.
Cas pulled the tape off the ends and pulled out a t-shirt of his own. He laughed. “I get this one!” The shirt read “It’s Accrual World”. Dean smiled in pleasure.
“I have another one for you.” Dean hesitated slightly, pulling a colourful envelope out of the bag and looked down at the floor. “I didn’t know, but I thought…And Sam thought it would be a good idea. I mean, if you don’t like it, that’s ok. I can just –“
“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “Could I open the gift before you decide that I don’t like it?”
Abashed, Dean handed over the envelope. He leaned against Cas’ leg as he slipped in a thumb and ripped it open.
A brochure slipped out, along with a folded piece of paper. Cas set the paper aside and opened the brochure. It was marketing material for the local college. Dean made an aborted reach for the brochure, but Cas found the dog-eared page and flipped to it himself. It advertised a two-day Introduction to Beekeeping course.
“Dean, that’s a great find,” Cas breathed. “I didn’t know that they offered a program like this. I’ll definitely look into it. Thank you!”
He reached down and brushed his lips against Dean’s in thanks.
“Um, not that I don’t appreciate that you have low standards for gifts, Sweetheart, but here.” Dean handed him the folded piece of paper that Cas had set aside.
Opening it, he paused. Dean could read the giant CONFIRMATION OF ENROLLMENT through the back of the page. “I thought you’d like it. I know it’s not until April, but I didn’t think you’d mind waiting. I already booked the weekend off from Bobby’s.”
“Dean, you enrolled me in this class already?” Cas sounded funny.
“Um…yes.” Dean looked down, certain now that he’d totally screwed this up.
“And you’re going to come with me?”
“Well, that was the plan, yeah.” Shit. He hates it.
“And it’s not until April?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can get a refund and –“
Cas tackled him to the floor, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. He delved deep, like he couldn’t get enough of Dean’s taste. His hands roamed Dean’s body, sliding up his shirt and scratching his nails down his sides. Overwhelmed, Dean couldn’t do much except hold on to Cas’ shoulders until he backed up for air.
“Thank you, Dean. Thank you so much.” Cas kissed him again, stroking his tongue across his lower lip.
Dean moaned and wrapped his arms around Cas’ back, pulling him closer. “You’re welcome? If I’d known bees turned you on so much, I’d’a signed you up a long time ago.”
Cas pressed down against him, sucking a bruise into his collarbone. Dean arched slightly, rubbing his burgeoning erection against Cas’ heavy thigh. Cas groaned and shifted, pressing their hips together. A bolt shot through Dean and he shuddered as their dicks lined up and pressed against each other.
“Not for nothing, Cas, but if we’re going to continue this, could we get off the floor?”
Cas kissed him again, licking heavily into Dean’s mouth, before he groaned and pulled away. Standing up, he reached a hand down and pulled Dean to his feet, then tugged him down the hall to his bedroom. He didn’t stop until he’d pushed Dean down on the dark blue comforter and landed back on top of him.
“Dean,” he growled, licking a stripe up the side of his neck. “I’d very much like to strip you naked and slide my cock into your hot, lubed ass. Do you have any concerns or suggestions that would require me to alter my plans?”
“Holy fuck,” Dean gasped. Precome spurted, hot and wet, into his boxers. He grabbed for Cas’ hair, pulling his lips back into a messy kiss. A moment later, Cas pulled away again.
“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I need a verbal yes or no, Dean.” Blue eyes glared down at him, colour high across Cas’ cheekbones as he waited for an answer.
“Yes, absolutely yes, do it,” Dean whispered.
“Good boy,” Cas murmured, quick hands making light work of stripping Dean’s shirt and throwing it behind him. He kissed his way down Dean’s chest, sucking light bruises along his sternum. Dean didn’t know where to put his hands, lost in the feeling of Cas’ wet lips trailing over his skin. He finally rested them on Cas’ shoulders and held on.
Dextrous fingers teased up his sides, dancing their way to his nipples. They pebbled tightly, little buds that Cas plucked gently. Dean groaned, pushing into Cas’ ministrations.
“You enjoy digital nipple stimulation,” Cas observed, his voice deep as Moria. “Do you also like oral nipple play?” He didn’t wait for an answer, redirecting his lips to one stiff peak, taking it in his mouth. Dean bucked upwards, mouth wet and open in a soundless cry.
Cas dragged his teeth over the hard point, pressing his weight down on Dean’s hips to keep him flat on the bed. One hand crawled back up Dean’s chest, and two fingers pressed against Dean’s lips. He opened immediately, sucking Cas’ clever fingers into his mouth and sucking lightly.
Cas dropped his head to Dean’s chest and breathed out. “Just like that, yes. You’re a good boy, Dean. So physical.” Dean moaned deeply, rolling his tongue between the fingers while Cas pulled out and pushed gently back in. His hips circled on top of Dean’s, but there wasn’t enough friction, not enough.
Pulling back, Cas eyed the man lying below him. Dean’s eyes were almost black when they met his, colour high on his cheeks and lips slick with spit. Bruises marked a trail down his chest where Cas’ mouth had been, and his nipples were drawn tight.
Cas yanked on Dean’s belt, pulling his jeans open and sliding the zipper down carefully over Dean’s cock.
“Shirt off,” Dean rasped.
Raising an eyebrow, Cas stared down at him.
Dean grinned cockily. “Please. Please take your shirt off, Cas. I wanna touch you.”
“You’re not in charge right now, Dean,” Cas growled.
“No….sir,” Dean breathed, halfway between a simple acknowledgement and an honorific. Cas accepted it, knew they had time to get there. He gave in, pulling his shirt over his head and leaving it on the floor. He moved long enough to tug Dean’s jeans off, then paused, gauging Dean’s reaction before tugging his boxers off, too. Dean whimpered, hand reaching to his own swollen cock.
“That’s mine. Don’t touch,” Cas threatened. Dean’s hand dropped away and Cas hummed appreciatively.
He bent at the waist, moving back slightly so he could suck a bruising kiss onto Dean’s hip. “Touch me, Dean,” Cas murmured, and Dean’s hands instantly smoothed over his shoulders, carding into his hair as he pushed towards Cas’ mouth.
Hot breath fluttered over Dean’s cock as Cas hovered over it. Dean leaned up on one elbow to look. He twitched heavily, seeing Cas’ pink lips so close to his leaking head but not touching. Not yet. “Please, Cas… I want –“
Without provocation, Cas slid his tongue up Dean’s length, forearm heavy on his thighs to keep him in place. Dean twitched and twisted on the bed, heat coursing through him as Cas placed wet, open-mouthed kisses all along his cock.
“Oh God, Jesus, Cas. Do that again, yeah,” he moaned. His hand clenched in Cas’ hair, trying hard not to yank that talented mouth down to swallow him whole.
“Let go, Dean,” Cas licked his head again, tongue flirting with his slit. Dean sighed with pleasure.
“Dean, let go. I need to get the lube,” Cas instructed firmly.
Slowly, Dean unclenched his fingers, watching with hooded eyes as Cas leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle and a foil packet sitting there. He parted his legs, and pulled a knee up, giving Cas more space to work.
“Condoms on the nightstand, Sweetheart? Is this my Christmas present?” Dean smirked.
A shadow fell across Cas’ face, but it disappeared quickly. “No. This just a fortuitous circumstance,” he replied, squirting lube onto his fingers.
He leaned down to bite a bruise on Dean’s other hip while his fingers burrowed between his legs, trailing from his balls down past his taint and circling his clenched hole. He switched positions, dropping his mouth over Dean’s cock and sucking lightly on the tip.
“You need to relax, Dean. Like a rosebud, you need to unfurl.”
Dean burst out laughing, shaking the bed. Cas sat up, a perturbed look on his face. “What?”
Dean grinned, taking a breath. “My ‘rosebud’ needs to ‘unfurl’?”
“It’s an apt description, Dean. I read it in an erotic story and it fits.”
Dean tugged him down by the shoulders and smiled against his lips. “It might be an apt description, babe, but it’s funny as hell.”
Cas kissed him slowly and deeply, his tongue sliding cleverly in and out of Dean’s mouth, mimicking the mini thrusts of his hips. It didn’t take long for Dean to forget whatever had been funny in the first place. Cas leaned back and cocked a brow. “May I continue now?”
Dean nodded, thankfully silent.
Cas re-lubed his fingers and stroked lightly against Dean’s puckered hole. He rubbed circles around the sensitive flesh, watching with fascination as Dean’s skin rippled and clenched for him.
“Just do it. Use two. Put ‘em in me,” Dean said in a low voice.
Cas looked up to meet his eyes. “I don’t want to cause you pain. There’s no reason to rush.”
“I like it when…when…” Dean stopped, face flushing as he held Cas’ gaze.
“You like the pain?” Cas questioned, slick fingers still sliding, sliding around that purled flesh.
“Not exactly the pain,” Dean gritted out.
Comprehension flooded Cas and his own cock jumped in response. “You enjoy the feeling of being dominated, of being taken,” he said. “Not the pain, but the act of being claimed.”
Dean looked away, biting his lip. His erection had flagged slightly, and that just wouldn’t do. Cas smirked and pushed firmly against Dean’s entrance. “Don’t worry, Dean. When we’re done, you’ll know exactly who you belong to.”
Dean swallowed heavily and glanced back, nodding once. “Yes…Sir.”
They let out mutual groans of satisfaction as Cas’ fingers breached Dean and sank slowly inside. Cas drizzled more lube on his fingers, scissoring Dean open as his faint gasps and sighs played on in the background.
Cas felt as Dean fully relaxed, his body opening and welcoming Cas in. “That’s it. Good boy.” He inserted a third finger, watching Dean’s face as he threw his head back against the bed and clenched his hands in the comforter.
“Touch me, Dean,” he whispered. Immediately his hands were upon Cas’ flesh, sliding down his back, touching everything he could reach from where Cas sat at his hip. Dean’s fingers slipped beneath his lounge pants, and Dean let out a filthy groan.
“Goddamnit Cas, are you freeballin’?”
Cas speared his fingers upward, searching for Dean’s prostate. “If by that you mean I’m not wearing underwear, yes.”
“Holy fuck. Take ‘em off. Please? Please take ‘em off,” Dean begged. He clenched his hand around a toned ass cheek, hard enough to leave bruises. Sure, they’d exchanged hand jobs, but he’d never seen Cas completely naked.
At that moment, Cas’ index finger slid lightly over his prostate, and Dean bucked upwards. “Please, oh Jesus, Cas. Please!”
Cas grinned and slowly withdrew his fingers, wiping them on his pants before he kicked them off. He fumbled for the condom and ripped it open as Dean reached for his own cock.
“Dean!” Cas’ voice cracked like a whip. “What did I tell you? That’s mine. No touching.” He slicked the condom and crawled back between Dean’s legs. Chastened, Dean gripped Cas’ ass and pulled him down, so their cocks rubbed together.
Concerned blue eyes stared down at Dean. “Do you still want this?” Cas asked, leaning on his forearms above him. “If you’re not prepared, or this is too much, that’s perfectly fine –“
Dean pulled Cas’ head down, kissing him gently. “Castiel Novak,” he whispered. “I consent to all the sexual acts that we have engaged in thus far. I consent to you coming on me, or in me. I consent to you controlling my orgasm. But for the love of all that is holy, will you get the fuck on with it?”
With a small smile, Cas held his gaze. He grabbed his dick and circled Dean’s hole before sliding slowly in, watching Dean’s face as it went slack with pleasure. He paused a moment, holding his weight on his forearms, bracketing Dean’s head. His cock throbbed heavily while he waited.
Dean closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxing completely into the bed underneath Cas. It was fascinating to watch him release all tension, his body radiating compliance. Cas stroked a hand over his forehead, leaned down to meet willing lips. They kissed slowly, lips parting and spit-slick with pleasure. Cas started a slow grind, circling his hips and dragging his stomach against Dean’s hard cock.
Dean wrapped a hand in Cas’ hair and the other cupped his hip, circling his own body in the opposite direction. Their mouths hovered, slipping together and apart as they breathed the same air. Cas gradually pulled out, gliding back in. The drag was sublime, sending shivers up Dean’s spine. The pace built gently, Cas’ toned stomach providing a bare minimum of friction as Dean’s cock blurted precome between them.
“You feel exceptional,” Cas breathed, dropping his forehead to Dean’s shoulder. “I would like to stay inside you all night.” He snapped his hips, changing the pace and pushing Dean up the bed. Dean moaned, reaching over his head to grasp the headboard, and pushing down into Cas’ thrusts.
“Cas, I need… I need…” Dean’s voice was wrecked, broken and gasping.
Cas sat up, pulling one of Dean’s legs with him. He pushed Dean’s knee towards his chest, and plunged heavily forward, altering the angle of penetration. Dean bucked and cried out beneath him as Cas tagged his prostate every few thrusts. Cas watched his face closely as Dean pushed down onto Cas’ cock. Watched as his face twisted in a grimace, seeking…seeking…
Cas grasped Dean’s hot length in his hand, spreading the precome up and down the shaft to ease the way. Dean’s breath came in gasps as he twisted beneath Cas, trying to push down onto his pistoning cock and up into his hand at the same time. He whimpered with pleasure, hazy eyes finding Cas’ and staying there.
“I’ve got you, Dean. Give it to me,” he said firmly.
With a final cry, Dean threw his head back and clenched tightly, his orgasm rippling through his body and shooting across his chest. Cas stroked him through it, his eyes steadfastly on Dean’s face as he watched him lose control. Dean clenched tightly one last time and gasped for breath, pushing Cas over the edge.
“Fuck,” Cas whispered. He spasmed over Dean, folding over his upraised leg and thrusting helplessly into Dean’s heat as he filled the condom. Dean clenched again, the vulgar word from Cas’ mouth shooting sparks of arousal through his oversensitive nerves.
It was a few moments before Cas could move, before he could withdraw and remove the condom. He flopped onto his stomach next to Dean, his hand cupping his freckled face. Dean opened his eyes and smiled slowly.
“Heya, Cas.”
Cas smiled back, a big, gummy, nose-crinkling thing. “Hello, Dean.”
Dean sighed and stroked Cas’s arm where it lay on his chest. “That was pretty profound, huh.”
Cas huffed a laugh. “Yes, I’d agree with that statement.”
Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I need to uh… clean up.”
“Oh, right. Just wait there. I’ll get a cloth,” Cas promised. He twisted upright and stood next to the bed, legs shaking.
“Careful there, Sweetheart. I’m the one who’s not supposed to be able to walk straight tomorrow,” Dean teased.
Cas turned at the doorway and flicked his eyebrow up with dark promise in his gaze. “We can work on that, if you want,” he offered.
Dean gaped at him as Cas chuckled and left the room. He was gone long enough that Dean was dozing lightly when he returned. A warm cloth swept over his stomach and chest, then down between his legs, thoroughly cleaning up the leftover lube and half-dried come.
He murmured in appreciation and turned into Cas’ side when he lay back down. Cas was quiet, silently stroking Dean’s back.
“Everything ok?” He asked sleepily.
“Dean, I had one more gift for you. I wasn’t certain, but then your gift of the beekeeping class in April…”
Dean sat up a little, leaning on his elbow to see Cas’ face. His brow was furrowed, his mouth tight with tension.
“Cas, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.
Cas slid a small gold package out from behind his back. It was slightly larger than a ring box, and wrapped with a green bow. He placed it in Dean’s hand.
“Cas?” Dean caught his eye and held it. “You don’t have to give me this if it’s upsetting to you. The t-shirt is plenty, and the Beekeeping thing is kind of a gift for me, too.”
“No, open it.” Cas took a shuddering breath. “I’m confident.” He breathed slowly in and out, closing his eyes and visibly centering himself.
Dean sat up so he could use both hands to peel the paper away. He cracked the lid on the small box, uncertain now whether he even wanted to open the box, if it triggered Cas’ Anxiety.
“Open it, Dean,” Cas said softly, his hand resting lightly on Dean’s wrist.
Taking a breath, Dean pulled the lid off and looked inside. A silver key lay on a bed of cotton batting.
“It’s to my house,” Cas offered.
Dean looked at him with large eyes. Cas sat up and placed a palm on Dean’s cheek, stroking lightly with his thumb. “You know I can’t cook. You know about my Anxiety. You know I have control issues and Dominant tendencies.”
Dean huffed a laugh, eyes soft.
“You know I love Marvel movies and I’ve never seen Star Wars. You know everything important about me, Dean, and you still accept me. I want to extend a welcome to you at any time. I’d like you here whenever you’d like to spend time here. I have no secrets from you.” Cas stared into his eyes, waiting.
Dean swallowed. “Are you sure, Cas? This your safe space.”
Cas smiled. “Yes, Dean. I’m sure. Merry Christmas.”