I'm not a native English speaker. This is a birthday-fic for Ky which is really fucking late I'm sorry, baby
Betaed by: valiantmongoose
Prompt: Christmas, kid!fic, destiel
Warnings: smut, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, fluff, fluff, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff
"No, Gabriel, Santa won't bring you the presents today. You need to wait," Castiel said, exasperated.
He knew that naming their son after his brother was not a good idea. The kid started to behave more like the trickster did the older he got. Although he suspected that was more the fault of Dean and Sam's stories than anything. He would have to ban them. Even though he loved his brother, well, as much as an Angel could love at that time, he didn't want his son to behave like the archangel did. Collaboration of Dean and Sam's pranks was enough; he did not need the third participant.
"But why?" The boy whined, his pale blue eyes widening, as if his father could make Santa and his presents appear with a snap of his fingers. Oh well, he used to be able to do that. That's to say he could have if the man was real, which he wasn't, unless you count the actual, living saint that inspired the Santa Claus tales. "Uncle Sam told me that in some countries, children get presents today." Castiel was pretty sure that he would strangle the younger of Winchesters someday.
"Mmm, and where are these countries located, hm? In the Neverland?" He asked as he mixed the eggnog fix with brandy, and smiled to himself. He loved the sweet drink; it was his favourite part of Christmas.
"No! You are making fun of me," Gabe huffed and stomped his feet on the kitchen floor. Cas bit his lip, trying not to laugh at his son's antics.
"I would not dare," he replied with a serious face and a hand over his heart. "Why would you accuse me of such a thing?"
"Because you're laughing at me on the inside, I can see that! You get wrinkles around your eyes when you do that, daddy," the dark-haired kid stated smugly, clearly proud of himself.
"Wrinkles? What are those wrinkles I hear about?" Dean's voice boomed from behind Castiel, and he turned around, his eyes softening as he took in the sight of his partner. His face was flushed from the winter's cold air, and there was quickly melting snow in his hair. The hunter caught his gaze and grinned. "Hi there, angel."
"Hello, Dean," he responded, and caught his lover's lips in a short, welcoming kiss. He chuckled as he felt Gabe tugging at his hand, their son feeling ignored.
Dean crouched, getting to the height level of his 4-year-old, and smiled at the boy. He ruffled his curly hair. "Hi, buddy, what was that about the wrinkles, huh?"
"Daddy gets wrinkles when he tries not to laugh sometimes," Gabe explained, tugging at the skin on the edge of his own eyes to show Dean what he meant. The hunter stifled laughter at his son's behaviour, and listened to him babble. "And he didn't believe me that some kids get presents today, instead of tomorrow," he said with a forlorn expression. "And it's in Europe, Uncle Sammy told me. Easter Europe!"
"It's Eastern Europe, bud, and we live the USA, right? So we get the traditions from here, not from Europe. That's why we get presents tomorrow," Dean patiently explained. "Also, Santa has more time to give presents to everyone if he has two days, right? You wouldn't want him to lose your presents, yeah?" Gabe shook his head, his facial expression turning to a horrified grimace at the thought of his presents being lost somewhere. "See? That's why you need to wait when some kids get their presents today. The old man can't be rushing everywhere."
Cas sighed in relief and smiled as Dean winked at him. His partner was so much better with Gabe than him; he knew how to explain things. He suspected that him taking care of Sam all his life was a huge factor, and while Cas interacted with some kids after he fell, he never got to watch anyone grow up. It was all new for him. He loved their little boy though, and even if he sometimes got annoyed by Gabe's endless questions or whining, he would never give his son up.
And he really appreciated how intelligent and curious the four-year-old was, he was asking questions about basically everything. From "why is sky blue" - and Cas had to restrain himself from explaining that it was caused by small particles which had certain wavelengths. Instead he made up a story of Angels colouring it every day – to "can I get a brother? Dad has a brother, I want one too." – to which Cas only exhaled heavily as getting Gabe was hard enough. Adopting another baby would be a miracle, and he was not an angel anymore, so he could not make miracles happen like it was nothing as he used to do.
He never regretted falling and becoming human, but sometimes he missed having his powers. Life would have been so much easier with them, and on their rare hunts, he would not have to worry so much about Dean, because he would have been sure that he was able to heal him or bring him back. As a common human, he had no such power. Sometimes the feeling of helplessness and vulnerability overwhelmed him, and he could not make his body stop shuddering as he took in how many dangers lay outside the safety blanket of their house. How he was not able to protect Gabe if demons or angels decided to take revenge on their family.
"Cas?" Dean's gentle voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he forced a smile on his face. The hunter frowned, and came closer, his arms wrapping around his partner's waist. "Hey, what is wrong?" he asked as Cas breathed into the comforting smell of his lover. Dean smelled like oil with metallic undertones, but underneath that there was a rich masculine scent that Castiel could not define as anything else but home. The former angel nuzzled into crook of the green-eyed man's neck, and sighed contently.
"It's nothing. I was just… thinking. I got caught up in my thoughts," he replied, and pressed a small kiss to Dean's cheek.
"You sure?" The man asked as he gazed into the blue orbs of his partner, as if he were looking for deceit. Castiel smiled, and nodded. On the inside, he concluded that he was indeed all right as long as Dean was right beside him.
Dean didn't like it when Cas was drinking. The memory of a constantly high and drunk fallen angel was still fresh in his memory. While he knew that Castiel would never become like this, because he had him and Gabe, his mind reeled in an urge to protect Cas and to take the booze away from his partner whenever he was drinking. Somewhere along the way, he realized that Cas must have suspected that Dean had some reservations about him drinking because he started to refuse the drinks that Sam offered, giving any excuse he could to decline. It made the hunter feel guilty sometimes, because he knew that the former angel enjoyed the taste of beer or good whisky. And he felt like a hypocrite since most of the time he himself could not resist having a drink in the afternoon.
But even he could not object to Cas drinking his favourite eggnog. He still remembered his partner's face when he tasted the creamy, sweet liquid for the first time. It was probably similar expression of rapture to Dean's pie-eating one, and even if eggnog was an alcoholic drink, he would never think of making a fuss about it since his lover enjoyed the stuff so much. Of course, the former angel could drink the virgin eggnog, but if Dean was being honest it tasted so much better with brandy.
He eyed as Castiel took a sip of the Christmas drink, the former angel's eyes slipping shut, and licking at the corner of his lips to collect a drop that escaped. He shifted on the couch, his half-hard cock making him uncomfortable; Cas probably didn't even realize what he was doing to him. He was playing a card game with their son, every now and then laughing as the child made frustrated noises when he was losing or squealed when he was gaining advantage over his dad. Dean knew that his lover was letting Gabriel win almost every time, but he didn't comment on that; he did the same thing when Sammy was a kid. It was hard to resist the puppy-like eyes.
He was really glad that his son could have real Christmas, and his heart squeezed painfully as he remembered that his father was often absent when it came to this particular holiday. As he got older he slowly realized that the Christmas time was hard for John. He hazily recalled that Mary adored it, and put every effort to make it as festive as possible. He swallowed and glanced away, but the sight of Gabe clinging to the stuffed angel even as he was playing with Castiel made him smile.
He and Cas got it for him just before they went to pick Gabe up for the first time, and the kid stuffed its wing in his mouth as soon as his grabby hands took a hold of the toy. The little boy and the angel were inseparable ever since, and the one time Gabriel left it at Sam's house, Dean was forced to drive back to his brother's because the toddler would not stop sobbing. Cas said after that it was the longest half an hour of his life, since nothing could calm Gabe down, not singing, not rocking him gently and hushing, not trying to take his mind of the tragedy that was happening with different toys. By the time that the hunter returned, his lover was near bursting into frustrated, angry tears. It was quite ridiculous, because as soon as Dean came through the door, and pressed the toy against Gabe's cheek, the child was fast asleep.
Dean was yanked out of his memories by a small body climbing into his lap and snuggling into his side. He chuckled, and ruffled his son's hair again. He knew that it was only a few more years, and then Gabriel would tell him to quit with the touchy-feely stuff, so he exploited every chance he got to show the boy affection. He shifted, so he was lying comfortably on the sofa, Gabe on his chest, the child's stuffed angel against his cheek, and he let his eyes focus on "Home alone" which had just started. Cas smiled, and went to the kitchen to get a refill of eggnog.
Cas gently ran his fingers through Dean's hair as the hunter sleepily snuggled into his stomach. He contemplated shaking him and waking him up, but at the same time he realized that he would probably also wake their son, who was soundly asleep on Dean's torso. He knew how lulling the rhythmic movement of the man's chest was, and he was not surprised that Gabe succumbed to sleep at the beginning of the movie they were watching.
Castiel leaned forward, so that his lips pressed lightly against his partner's ear, and whispered his name, which earned him a groan. 'Dean, we need to get Gabriel upstairs,' he urged quietly, Dean mumbled in answer something that sounded suspiciously close to 'five more minutes'.
"If you prefer lazing around here to fucking me into the mattress, then that's okay, you can sleep some more. But I would prefer sucking your cock right now, instead of sitting here staring at the Christmas Tree," Cas hissed, the eggnog he consumed making him relaxed enough to say such things right next to his son. Surprised green eyes shot open. Dean exhaled shakily and wordlessly nodded. He gathered Gabriel against his chest carefully, and rushed upstairs to put the boy in his bed. Cas smirked as his gaze lingered on his partner's ass, and he got up, only to wander to the tree in order to fix the decorations their son had crooked.
Suddenly, the former angel felt himself being turned around, and he found himself against the wall, Dean's body and lips pressing against his own. To his right he could see the blinking lights on Christmas Tree, and a random thought about Dean having enough restraint not to shove him right onto the sharp tree-needles crossed his mind. Castiel groaned at the sensation of wet tongue licking at his mouth, and at the growl of impatience from his partner, he obediently opened up. His hands out of habit wandered into Dean's short hair, and gently tugged. The hunter's fingers slipped under his blue shirt, thumbing at the jutting-out hipbone.
Cas smiled into their slow kisses; it had been a long time since they had time for each other. Between work and little Gabriel, they had practically no time to enjoy quiet evenings. And even if they did have some time, Dean was usually exhausted. Winter was good for his garage as it was a period in which cars were more prone to be broken, but it also meant that the man worked longer hours and fell asleep in front of the TV basically every day. Castiel loved cuddling into the hunter's warm, sleeping form, but he also missed the real physical contact, grinding together, swallowing each other's moans, reaching climax together.
Dean sighed as he withdrew from Cas' lips, and gazed into the hooded blue eyes. He brought his hand up, and palmed his partner's flushed cheek, his thumb tracing Castiel's cheekbone; he smiled as the former angel subconsciously leaned into the gentle touch. He ducked his head in again, and mouthed at Cas' jaw, slowly moving up to the path of nerves behind his lover's ear that he very well knew would make him moan. Predictably, as soon as he started nipping at the sweet spot, Castiel let out a whimper, and bucked against Dean. The man turned his head, arching his neck in an attempt to get even closer to the source of pleasure, and Cas' hands fisted the back of Dean's shirt. The hunter chuckled against the heated skin at his partner's response, which in return got him a punishing tug at his brown hair, Castiel's hand forcing him away from his teasing. Deangulpedas he looked into the former angel's orbs, his usual brilliant blue colour being swallowed by black.
"I don't really have patience for your games, Dean. Not today," Cas whispered, his voice deeper than usual. It reminded the hunter of the time that the angel threatened to throw him back in hell, which should not have been a turn on, but apparently his body took it as such. "I want you to fuck me, and I do not wish to be teased. Understood?" The man accented his words with a harsh pull of short strands at the nape of the hunter's neck, and Dean groaned in the back of his throat.
"Fuck, Cas." He pushed against the former angel form, in order to get as close as humanly possible, and crushed their mouths together again, tongue plunging in, teeth clashing. Castiel made a sound that voiced his appreciation, and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, his nails lightly digging in the brand he left such a long time ago. He brought his thigh up and hoisted it onto his partner's hip, his ankle hooking at the back of Dean's knee. He rocked against his lover, which earned him a stifled moan of "Cas".
Dean tangled one hand in Castiel's dark strands moving his partner's head into a more accommodating position, so that he could run his tongue against the other man's teeth, roof of his mouth, twirling with Cas' tongue in a fiery dance, and gently sucking at the wet muscle whenever he felt like making his lover groan. His other hand wrapped against Castiel's back in order to support the man, and his fingers dug into his angel's ribs. He rolled his hips in a teasing motion, his cock straining against the stiff texture of his jeans, and begging him for release.
Castiel's mind was foggy, blinded with pleasure, and Dean's closeness. His thoughts circulated against "Dean", and "want", and "now", not caring about anything else except for sensations his body was experiencing. As the hunter moved his lips to the former angel's neck, biting and sucking at the point which met with his shoulder, Cas's mouth fell open, his eyes lazily inching open and landing on Gabriel's toys scattered around the carpet. He cursed internally, and groaned at Dean's ministrations.
"Dean," he said quietly. The hunter grunted, and bucked against him again, mouthing with even more vigor at his Adam's apple. "Ah, Dean, oh, damnit, we need to move," he choked out. His lover released the skin he was sucking on with a wet pop, and gazed at Castiel questioningly. His mouth was parted, breathing erratic, and it took everything in the former angel not to say "fuck it", and nip at the perfect bottom lip.
"Why?"
"We will wake up Gabe," Cas answered, his arms subconsciously tightening against his partner's shoulders.
"You think so?" Dean murmured, and instead of moving away, he pressed his form closer. "I don't really wanna move," he grinned, his smile crooked, and provocatively, he rolled his hips, making Cas hiss in pleasure, his mind going blank again. He felt one of his lover's hands pushing at his thigh, and out of habit he hoisted himself up, his legs and arms wrapping tightly around Dean's body, the motion smooth and fluid, practiced hundreds of times. The hunter tightened his grip on Cas, and steered away from the wall, directing his steps to the stairs and bedroom. Castiel pressed his lips against the hunter's neck, his mouth trailing wet path along the protruding tendons.
"You're gonna make us fall down the stairs," Dean groaned as his lover latched himself on the particularly sensitive spot, making the man's knees weak. Cas made a protesting sound in the back of his throat, but he stopped his actions, in order to glance up at the hunter. Dean resumed his movement, trying not to trip – because let's be honest a ride to the hospital would totally ruin the mood.
As he finally reached the bedroom door, his green eyes focused on Castiel's face, taking in bruised lips, and red marks on the skin of his neck, and his possessive nature made him groan and crush their bodies to the nearest flat surface, resulting in his angel pressed against the wall for the second time that night.
"You are so hot," Dean gasped as he grasped the side of his partner's face, and kissing him, his tongue plunging in, and brushing against every sensitive spot he could find. Castiel moaned and clawed at Dean's white shirt, making the buttons pop as he pulled at the material to get his hands on the naked skin. It was a burning need, and Cas ignored his own musings that "it's a shame, because he really liked this particular piece of clothing".
Dean got a hint, and he turned around, making a few steps necessary to get to their destination. As soon as his knees hit the edge of the bed, the hunter stopped his attempt at devouring the angel, and he dumped him on the soft surface. Castiel made an indignant noise that was quickly stifled as Dean followed him instantly, silencing him with another kiss. The hunter stretched himself on the top of Castiel's form to suck another mark on the former angel's body. He felt Cas' hands roaming on the skin of his back, the thin fingers lightly digging in, and then wandering down, only to grip Dean's ass, and rock his hips up impatiently, desperate attempting any friction.
"Fuck, Cas," the hunter cursed, his fingers quickly undoing buttons of Castiel's shirt, only to reveal lean chest. "Want you, baby," he groaned as the angel arched up in order to shrug off the piece of clothes, and accidently pressing their hard cocks tightly together.
Cas grinned at Dean, and ran his hand through his lover's strands, eliciting a little murmur of pleasure. The first time the hunter used this name in relation to him had been cruel, hurtful. Being called "a baby in a trench coat" when you were losing an integral part of yourself, when you were becoming weaker with every day, was humiliating, and he still remembered the onslaught of pain he felt back then. It was the first time he found out how the emotion called "hurt" felt. Now though, the pet name had a different meaning. He knew that Dean associated it with things he loved. He referred to his beloved Impala as his baby, and whenever the name slipped in relation to Castiel, he felt warm inside, because that meant that he also was important to Dean.
Castiel wanted to take things slow, to map out every little fiber of Dean's body with his tongue, to feel every brush of his lover's fingertips on his sensitive skin. He wanted to experience the slow roll of the hunter's hips as he filled him up, and gentle, butterfly-like kisses again. He was aware though that they were far beyond the point when such luxury was available. Their lower halves were grinding instinctively, seeking release, any friction against their painfully hard cocks a relief.
The angel's nails dragged down Dean's back as the hunter moved from angry red spot on his neck to chest, licking and biting at his nipples. Cas' eyes rolled in pain-pleasure as the hunter nibbled at one of the hardened buds, and then soothed it with a flick of his tongue. He gasped out that they are overdressed, and Dean mumbled something in agreement, but did not make a movement to do anything about this particular problem.
"For fuck's sake," Castiel growled, and gripped at his partner's shoulder, flipping them over, so that he straddled Dean's hips. "I am not going to come in my pants like a horny teenager."
"Aw, but that would have been fun. You never were a teenager after all," the hunter teased, and smiled, his white teeth flashing in a dark room. His palms pressed against the angel's hips, and moved upwards against his lover's sides, gently scratching against the sensitive skin right against Castiel's ribs.
"I had different kind of fun in mind," Cas replied, his blue eyes flashing. He popped the button of Dean's jeans, and pulled the denim quickly down along with the man's underwear. His mouth watered as he glanced at his lover's flushed length, and he dipped down, giving in the urge and flicking his tongue at the head, and collecting the pre-come pearling at the top of the hunter's cock. Dean whined in the back of his throat as Cas withdrew, and he glared at the smirk appearing on his partner's face. "May I remind you that you didn't even want me to take off your jeans? Be patient." Dean huffed in indignation, and lazily observed as Castiel got off the bed, only to let his pants fall on the floor, pooling around his ankles along with his boxers. He stepped out of the jeans, and reached out to pull open the bedside drawer, the lube grasped tightly in his palm.
He slid on the soft mattress again, sat against Dean's thighs, their cocks lightly brushing, and Cas leaned down to place a sharp bite against his partner's jaw. The hunter grasped Castiel's hips and let their pelvises clash, the lazy, subconscious roll bringing some relief. "What do you want to do?" The former angel whispered, his warm breath making the sensitive skin of Dean's neck prickle. He shivered, and dug his thumbs into Cas' back dimples as revenge, a sigh coming from the former angel being a reward. "Do you want to fuck me open? Or do you want to observe me doing that? Did you know that whenever you are at work, and I feel lonely, I touch myself, imagining my hands are your hands? When I finger myself, I think of your fingers doing that to me, or your cock, sliding in and out, bringing me so much pleasure. Did you know that, Dean? Do you want to see that?"
The warm breath washed over Dean skin, Castiel's teeth gently nibbling at the lobe of his ear, and the green-eyed man gave in the urge to moan at his lover's words. He abruptly sat up, and turned them around, pressing his angel into to soft covers. He covered Cas' lips with his own, his hands fisting into the dark hair, and tugging mercilessly.
"Fuck, Cas, you can't just say things like that," Dean said as he stressed every word with a pointed grind of his hips. Castiel's hand grasped the pillow beside his head, mouth falling open at the unexpected turn of events. "Tomorrow, I'm so gonna make use of your little teasing," he hissed, giving Castiel a punishing nip at his collarbone. "Today though, you are gonna lie still for me," he ordered, and the angel nodded, out of breath, speechless.
The hunter grasped the tube of lube, and squeezed some of the liquid on to his fingers, coating them thoroughly. He reached down, and gripped one of Cas' legs, throwing it against his shoulder. His fingers wandered from his partner's balls to the puckered skin of his entrance, and Dean circled his fingers teasingly, his lover giving in the impatient roll of his hips and snarl. The hunter glanced up, his green orbs roaming hungrily around Cas' body, and in a split of second he decided that he could not wait longer, even if making the angel beg would be fun.
He didn't want to rush, but he was frustrated and hungry for his lover's body. It had been too long since they last fucked. His first finger slipped in easily, so he quickly added the second, scissoring Cas, even in his hastiness being careful not to hurt the other man. As he curved his digits, the angel voiced out his pleasure by moaning out Dean's name and then biting viciously at his shoulder, telling him "to hurry the fuck up". The hunter chuckled at the swear words, knowing that the former angel only cursed when he was desperate, and pushed in three fingers, gently opening up his lover as Cas writhed under him, nails biting in his arm, leaving four half-moon-shaped marks behind.
When he decided that Cas was finally ready, he quickly covered himself in a generous amount of lube, and pushed a pillow under his lover's hips. He let his angel's legs pool around his waist, the heels digging in his back. He slid in with one forceful thrust, and the headboard hit the wall with a loud thump as Cas threw his head back, exposing a pale column of his neck. As Dean pushed in and out, he marveled at the marked skin, and with a satisfaction mused that maybe for a few days his neighbours wouldn't try to flirt with his partner.
He sought Castiel's hand, unclenching it from the pillow he was fisting, and entwined their fingers together, gaining a better leverage. He fucked Cas with long, forceful strokes, the head of his cock, dragging against the former angel prostate. Castiel's breath hitched with every thrust, his body barely standing the burning sensation, and the need to be even closer to Dean. He knew that he cannot get closer, but that didn't stop him from tugging at his hunter's hair, and pulling him in an open-mouthed, filthy kiss, as if he were trying to crawl into his lover's skin.
As they rocked against each other, their kisses got sloppier, more a brush of lips against lips, breathing in the same air than a real kiss. Their hands roamed against the heated skin, trying to exploit every sweet spot; every sensation and flash of pleasure rewarded with an unrestrained moan, hiss or growl.
Dean's hips stuttered as he neared his climax, and his palm slid down, to Castiel's neglected cock. His hand palmed his partner's length, his thumb running across the sensitive head, and Cas tightened his grip on him, trying to silence his scream by biting at Dean's bottom lip.
"Come for me, baby, right now," the hunter whispered, his hand pumping up and down Cas' cock, his own length filling him in, his hips rolling in small circles stimulating the angel. And Castiel couldn't help, but listen to the order. He was created to obey, and even though he possessed the free will now, sometimes he just wanted to let go of the control, not to think, and follow Dean's instructions. And just like that, he allowed himself to arch from the bed into his lover's body, his come coating Dean's hand and stomach.
Dean couldn't help but marvel at Cas' expression every time he reached climax. He admired how his body arched gracefully, his teeth bit at his lower lip, leaving small dents, and extraordinary blue eyes flew open, widening as if in surprise. Having seen that, Dean was able to thrust a few more times, fucking Castiel through aftershocks, the man beneath him soft, and pliant, boneless.
Black spots appeared in his vision then and as he himself came, he buried his head in Cas' neck, his lover's name on his lips. After a few tired thrusts, he collapsed on the angel, the other's man arms going around his back, fingers gently stroking at his shoulder blades. He relaxed into the embrace, and waited for his erratic breathing to calm down.
After a few minutes, he felt as if he were actually able to move, so he pushed on his arms, his now soft cock slipping from inside Cas. He lay down next to his lover, his stomach and chest practically glued to Castiel's side. He glanced up, and smiled at the former angel's dazed expression. He rested his chin in the crook of Cas' shoulder, and gently mouthed at the skin pressing against his lips.
Castiel placed his hand at the nape of Dean's neck, and gently combed through the slightly wet strands, his thumb circling against the muscles against the spine. The hunter relaxed even further, and purred.
"Let's go to sleep," Cas whispered as if he were afraid to ruin the soothing silence. He felt exhausted, but fulfilled. His muscles were sore, but it was a pleasurable pain. He liked the thought of Dean's leaving something behind, affecting him even outside the bedroom.
The hunter acknowledged Castiel's statement with a low murmur of agreement, and pulled the angel towards his chest, his lover's back resting against his front. His arm tightened around the blue-eyed man's waist, and he nuzzled into his neck, making Cas smile indulgently. As much as Dean wanted to deny that he was a cuddler, he could not, because that was exactly what happened every single evening. The hunter loved the comforting warmth and weight of Castiel's body against his form. It kept his nightmares at bay, and he slept better, his limbs entwined with his lover's. Not that anyone had to know.
"Merry Christmas, Dean," the former angel mumbled as he was slowly falling asleep. He didn't hear the quiet reply; he was already in a dreamland.
'Uncle Sammy!' Gabriel exclaimed as soon as he noticed a towering form of the younger Winchester in the living room. He rushed towards the man, and would have tripped on his own feet if not for Sam catching him midair.
'Hey, big man,' he smiled as the boy threw his arms around his neck and squeezed. 'Did you get any presents?'
'Loads!' Gabe answered, his toothy grin making Dean snicker from his armchair. 'But you know what, uncle? I think Santa's gotten really fat,' he whispered quietly as if he were sharing a big secret.
'And why is that, bud?'
'He was really loud last night, and he's supposed to be quiet right? But last night, there was a lot of banging on the wall, and I think he couldn't fit through fireplace…'
Sam raised his eyebrow and looked at his brother, trying not to burst out with laughter. Dean sunk down in his armchair, hiding his face behind 'Slaughterhouse-five', even the tips of his ears tingling. That was it, he was soundproofing the walls in their bedroom.
This is my first destiel fic, so feedback would be really nice