[FIC] A Very Gay & Blasphemous Carol (R) 2/2 for Watermaline

[deancas_xmasmod]

Gift type: Fanfic
Title: A Very Gay & Blasphemous Carol (1 of 2)
Recipient: watermaline
Author: tehopheliac
Rating: R (for foul language and a little violence)
Warnings: Art Inside, Crackfic, tit cookies, bonbon addiction, AU, AUfuture!Dean, AUfuture!Castiel, kidfic, future!fic, Selfcest (flirting only), kinky (tiny) dominant!Castiel scene. (Highlight the "blank space" to see the warnings / spoilers.)
Spoilers / Wordcount: Seasons 1-5 (up to episode 8) / 20,000 words
Summary: Dean and Castiel are not-so-secretly pining for each other. It's enough to make Gabriel roll his eyes and want to retch! They need to fuck and get on with it already- there's an Apocalypse going on! If they want to survive, they need to stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and actually fight. To accomplish this task, the Trickster comes up with a devious plan...

Author's Notes: Finally, the full version of the author's notes! :D First things first, the new art for this fic! :D It's not completely finished, but it's at a point where I'm willing to post a link to it so you guys can see it. This version was drawn with pencil and paper by Ph1shF00d. She's going to be redoing it digitally and coloring it, so if you check in here or on my LJ, you can see the completed version shortly. :D

This fic really got away from me. Originally, I'd only intended for it to be about 2k or so (since I'm new to writing SPN). I'm not really sure what happened. The plot just sort of exploded and ran me over. It was the fic that never wanted to end and since I write really slowly, it consumed my life. I was actually getting really worried that I wouldn't be able to finish it in time. As it is, I had to rush the ending (I hope it's not too noticeable) and the beta-ing process (so if there are errors or plots holes, it's because we ran out of time). Sorry about that! Oh, and, there's the possibility of a sequel (mind you, it would be a smallish selfcest/Cas threesome fic) if there's enough interest (and I can come up with a plot).

Alright, now it's time for a bunch of thank you's and crediting. There are a lot of people that I need to thank for helping me with this fic. First off, I'm going to thank the artists. Thank you, thisfishflies, for the beautiful wings/halo spacer inserts that you bribed me with (also, thanks for the help, encouragement, and general enthusiasm). Thank you, Ph1shF00d, for the gorgeous illustrations.

First off, here's the most important and the biggest thank you of all. Thank you, trill_gutterbug ! This awesome person? Is my beta. I would be so very lost without her. Really, you have no idea. xD She was there to help me through this fic, encourage me, fix my errors, point out plot holes / things that don't make sense and make suggestions. This is, by no means, a small feat. There's no way I'd have been able to write this fic without her. xD She was my lifeline! <3 SO, YES. THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! <3

Next, I'd like to take the time to thank c00kie for helping to give me the initial concept of the children, Alli and Austin. Without her help, I can honestly say I'd be missing about 1/3rd of my plot and the kids would probably have ended up boring (or annoying-- or both).

Thank you, entangled_now, for giving me the slap on the hand as well as encouragement when I wanted to give up. She gave me the motivation to barrel on and finish the fic when the deadline was running close and I was being overwhelmed.

A huge thank you to spilled_notes without whom there would be no plot to speak of. She was there to listen to me babble, encourage me, and help out with a few ideas of her own. <3 Talking to her helped me to organize my thoughts and plot out the events of the fic in my head so I could write them out. Also? I wouldn't have dared to use the Trickster without her encouragement.

I'd like to give a big thanks to fairyeyez27 as well. Not only did she encourage me to write the fic, but she also took the time to write out the rough initial version of dominant!Castiel/not-Dean scene that Dean walked in on. With her permission, I revised, edited, and rewrote it to fit my writing style in the fic. <33

Finally, I'd like to thank wendy_bird. She was one of the first people I went to with the fic's plot and she listened to me complain and blather on about it for an extended period of time. xD THANK YOU-- ALL OF YOU!




Continued from here


“Cas is a ‘wild thang’ in bed,” not-Dean said, laughter in his voice. Dean knew immediately that he’d been caught. He glared up at not-Dean defiantly, challenging him with his eyes and resisting the urge to punch that smug smirk off his face.

“You two obviously don’t have a problem with the kids overhearing you,” Dean said, emphasizing the word kids.

“Okay, enough with the bullshit cockfight,” not-Dean said, losing his temper. “Just because Cas and I have a sex life, doesn’t make us bad parents, you douchenozzel. Maybe when you finish sticking your head up your ass you’ll realize that we’ve taken precautions so Alli and Austin never have to see or hear anything. Cas soundproofs the room when we fuck, the kids don’t hear a thing.”

Dean growled at his future counterpart, taking a threatening step closer and opening his mouth to put him in his place. Before he had a chance to say anything, however, not-Dean had invaded his personal space, pressing their bare chests up against each other and backing Dean up against the front door. “No,” he snarled. “Don’t say anything. Just shut your fucking mouth for once and listen to me.”

Dean’s mouth snapped shut with a clack and he swallowed past the lump in his throat, as he looked off to the right. He felt trapped (which immediately put him on the offensive) and unable to escape conversation. “No,” not-Dean said again, roughly grabbing Dean’s chin with his thumb and forefinger and jerking his head around to face him. “We’re done playing this game.”

Not-Dean’s face was millimeter’s away, his expression furious and his cheeks flushed as he scowled at Dean. It was disconcerting to see another person wearing his face, using his voice and, hey, was that how he looked when he was angry all the time? Because, wow, he was kind of sexy in an intimidating and manly sort of way. A sharp jab to the chest shook him from any narcissistic fantasies he may or may not have been fantasying about.

Not-Dean paused, waiting until he had Dean’s full attention before continuing. “You will lose everything if you stand by and do nothing. How can you expect to gain anything if you don’t even try? Think about it. Your greatest weakness is also your greatest strength. If you want even the slightest chance at beating the Apocalypse, you're going to need every shred of strength you can get.”

Dean stared at his counterpart in muted horror, storing the advice to go over later, but unable to get past the thought, ‘Oh god, I’m having a chick flick moment… with myself.’

Noticing the expression on his face and recognizing it for what it was, not-Dean shook Dean roughly and shoved him away, “Oh, shut the hell up! Is it really so shocking that I’d be more open when I have to deal with traumatized children all the time? I may not enjoy this philosophical BS, but it keeps my kids from crying.” Despite not-Dean’s excuse, a pink flush was taking precedence on his face.

Dean stumbled backwards, biting the inside of his lip to suppress the frenzied laughter bubbling up inside of him. What was the world coming to? Was the future really worth living if he had to become such a pussy? It was a tough call.

Throwing himself down on the porch, Dean seated himself on the top step and let his feet hang down onto the snow-blanketed pavement. There was an awkward silence and a ruffling of clothes before not-Dean heaved a frustrated sigh and sat down next to him. "Have you figured out who sent you here yet? I thought it was fairly obvious."

"You knew? You knew and you didn't bother to say anything?" Dean said, gaping at not-Dean like he had at that girl from the truckstop who turned out to be a dude, that one time.

Not-Dean looked at him like he was the stupid one. "Of course I know. Been there, done that. This is the future, remember?"

Oh, well… it’s hard to argue when it was put like that. Still. "Why don't any of them know, then?" Dean asked, referring to Sam, Bobby and Castiel.

"Cas knows, I told him. We never actually told Sam or Bobby, though- not even that you’re here right now. This isn’t the first time an alternate me has just shown up before, though, so they’re kind of used to it. Anyhow, why do you think the cell phone number you called from is still active?" not-Dean said.

Jackpot. It was something that had never even occurred to Dean, but now that it was pointed out, he realized that it should have. He swallowed down the ugly feeling of self-disappointment and sighed. “Who sent me here and why? How do I get home?”

Not-Dean cracked a knowing smile at him and gave Dean a few manly slaps on the back. “Cheer up, buttercup. For once, there aren’t any negative consequences involved. Unless you make the wrong choice.”

When Dean’s only response was a blank stare, not-Dean gave him sheepish look and coughed. “Okay, look. It’s like the Christmas Carol, only you’re not visited by anyone, ghost or otherwise.” Pause. “Which is weird because you’d think Gabriel would show up to gloat. Uh, anyway, you’ve been sent into the future to see what it could be like if you make the right choice. And- okay, you know what? Fuck it. It’s nothing like the Christmas Carol.”

“The Trickster! Yeah, that fits perfectly: the bizarro alternate timeline, being trapped in the future,” Dean exclaimed, smacking his hands down onto his thighs. “Wait, shit. No, that doesn’t fit. The Trickster likes to fuck with people. He isn’t some celestial matchmaker.”

“You’re forgetting Gabriel isn’t actually a Trickster. Occasionally he does… well, I wouldn’t call them good things, but they sometimes end up helping. Don’t worry about it, you’ll only end up here for 24 hours,” not-Dean said with a smirk that renewed Dean’s desire to punch him in the face. He wondered if it happened to everyone or if it was just him. It would certainly explain a lot.

Dean chuckled weakly and stared out at the glittering white snow, shivering as the wind picked up. Not-Dean scooted closer, their thighs bumping, and casually wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Jesus Christ, he was like a fucking furnace! No wonder the bastard had been able to get away with wearing so little.

“Dean,” Castiel admonished from behind them. Both Deans turned around simultaneously to look at him. He stood just inside the doorway, his hair mussed and his face tired. An over-sized black tee-shirt practically swallowed him whole. The neckline was bunched up on one side, revealing a bare shoulder, and his knee-length red cotton boxers were just barely peeking out from beneath the shirt. “A threesome is not what this Dean requires.”

Not-Dean threw back his head and laughed while Dean choked on his own spit and stared at both them wide-eyed and speechless. “Hah, don’t you remember how much fun you had last time?” not-Dean teased. He absently patted Dean’s thigh a few times before getting to his feet and walking over to Castiel, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You look like you’re about to tip over, Cas. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“I am quite tired,” Castiel admitted. He was leaning against not-Dean, but it was Dean he looked at, his eyes half-closed and his voiced muffled. “Goodnight.”

Dean, who was still baffled by what had happened, but had gone weak around the knees at the sight of a sleepy Castiel, nodded both of them. “Night.”



Dean was jolted from REM sleep the next morning by a high-pitched squeal and a tiny force of nature throwing herself onto his gut. “Oof!” Adrenaline flooded his body, panic racing through his veins, and for a moment all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat. There was another shift at the end of the bed, someone gingerly settling themselves down on the edge. It was enough to knock sense back into him. Dean just barely managed to restrain his instinctive urge to lash out and ask questions later.

“-Alli!” Dean said, coughing as he sat up and tried to calm his racing heartbeat. “Don't ever do that again, you hear me? I could have kil- hurt you!" Thank god he hadn't.

Alli's smiling face hovered into view, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as the sun, just barely peeking over the horizon, outlined her upper body with a light glow. Her sleep-muzzled hair was wild, sticking up at odd angles and defying gravity. “Aww, don't be so dramatic. It's Christmas! Santa came and he brought presents!" she said, sing-song, pressing hands to her mouth to smother giggles.

Just beyond her, Dean could see Austin sitting on the corner of the bed, skinny legs crossed at knobby knees. He was staring at Dean, his face solemn, but there was a content look about his face that lead Dean to believe that he was happy.

“Ah, I see. Well, Merry Christmas, Alli. Austin," Dean said, conceding her point with awkwardness. Christmas was supposed to be one of the happiest times of the year for kids. What right did he have to ruin that? Besides, what was the likelihood that he'd be able stay long enough for it to happen again? According to not-Dean, slim to none. “Where's Cas and... uh... ?"

Alli sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Austin and I wanna open presents, but they're still in the bed." She paused, biting her lip with indecision before she leaned forward conspiratorially and said in a whisper, “They closed the door." Like that was supposed to mean something. Kids were weird.

“Ohh, scary, a closed door!" Dean said sarcastically. He threw back the covers and stood up, ignoring Alli's surprised exclamation and protests as he left the room without a backward glance. If he had to be awake this early in the morning, then so did his counterpart and Castiel. These weren't even his kids. Yet. It was too early to deal with this shit.

Dean wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, the sound of two pairs of small feet scurrying after him as he turned the handle and pushed the door open. “Your children are about to-" Dean broke off mid-sentence at the sight before him.

Staring was the only feasible option at that sight that greeted Dean on the other side of the door. Castiel had not-Dean bound to the bed beneath him, arms tied up over his head by a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, and- had he ever heard himself moan like that?

Dean knew he could be a bit, er… controlling when it came to sex, but the greedy, demanding, moans of, “Oh, fuck. Cas, stop teasing and just fuck me already! Goddammit, fuck me now!” were going a bit far. The way not-Dean was practically writhing under Castiel's hands and his mouth... it was beyond his realm of experience.

Speaking of experience, how the hell had Dean spent even half a second looking at his counterpart when Castiel was in his naked, passionate, dominant glory? Holy fuck. Dean was transfixed, the sight of all that smooth, flawless skin and those rippling muscles… Castiel leaned down, pressing his lips to not-Dean's to muffle his sounds in a kiss as demanding and desperate as not-Dean’s moans.

Once not-Dean had been reduced passed the point of protest, Castiel pulled away, his lips lingering for just a moment to murmur, “Shut up, Dean.” The angel’s strong hands flipped not-Dean onto his knees, bracing his hands against the headboard as he pressed in close against him.

Castiel looked over at Dean then, slowly and without care that he was being watched. It looked almost as though he couldn’t process the information, like his brain was already too overloaded on it’s currently stimulus to actively do more than react. With his eyes locked on Dean’s, Castiel sunk his teeth into not-Dean’s shoulder, his deep growl mingling with not-Dean’s low moan as they walked the line of pleasure and pain together, not-Dean’s back arched.

And holy shit, he should not be watching this!

Dean swallowed thickly, gulping down oxygen and tearing his eyes away from the couple to gape at wall, his face flushed and tingling. Despite his shock, Dean was as hard as rock and more embarrassed that he‘d ever been in his life. “I, uh... sorry!" he blurted out, heart racing as he turned around and slammed the door shut. “What the fuck!"

“I told you," Ali said from behind him, her voice exaggerated and slow, like Dean was the retarded child who just. didn't. get it. “The door is closed. No one is allowed to go in there if the door is shut unless there's an emergency." It sounded like she was reciting it word for word from memory. "I guess it's okay this time, though, since you didn't know." Alli gave him a stern once-over before she took his hand in her small one and said with a smile, "Come on, let's go have a tea party."

Dean was too stunned to do anything but follow the two of them dumbly.



By the time not-Dean and Castiel stumbled out of their bedroom an hour later (the former sex-rumbled and debauched, while the latter was pristine, not a hair out of place), Dean had learned things he never wanted to know. First and foremost, that tea is pretty damn good and plastic scones suck. Secondly, that not-Dean's sex-life used to be painfully inactive due to Castiel being finicky about sex with the children around. Well, up until the point he attempted (and failed) to give Alli and Austin a "What is sex and why do we do it?" talk behind Castiel's back. Even though it was ridiculous, Dean couldn't help but imagine how that conversation must have gone:

not-Dean: When a man loves another man (and is really horny)-

Castiel: *appears out of nowhere with an epic bitchface* Dean, stop perverting the children.

not-Dean: *gives Castiel his "get out of jail free" pouty face* Aww. Come on, Cas. We can't avoid sex forever, they're old enough to know!

Castiel: We have discussed this, Dean. It is not an appropriate topic for children. *unaffected*

Alli: Uh, Dad? We're not stupid. *flaps hand dismissively* We already know what *giggle* sex is and that you *giggle* do it every night when you think we're sleeping.

-Stunned Pause, both speak at once.- What! If some little bastard has- / Have you learned of coitus from your public education system?

-Some time later, after a long, embarrassing conversation-

Castiel: You have been provided with inaccurate information. When two consenting (married) adults love each other...

Dean choked on a slightly hysterical laugh as the insanity of the situation hit him like a furious bull to red. Here he was, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his (future) kid's bedroom, having a tea party with plastic scones and imagining how the sex talk had played out with his future counterpart. Could his life get anymore fucked up? It wasn't likely.



It turned out that Austin and Alli still weren’t allowed to open their Christmas presents (something about it being a family event)- they had to wait for Bobby and Sam to arrive first. Alli pouted, whining about how unfair it is before resorting to stomping her foot and running off to sulk. Austin wasn't nearly as theatrical about it. Instead, he turned his big blue puppy-dog eyes to Dean and stared at him sadly; it took only a minute for Dean to crack (and he thought Sam was bad).

Castiel and not-Dean refused to change their minds, no matter how much Dean tried to wheedle it out of them. Although, now that Dean thought about it, it was more likely that not-Dean only agreed with Castiel so he wouldn't be forced to sleep on the couch for the next week. Dean couldn’t find it in himself to blame him for that, he'd have done the same thing.

Sam and Bobby pulled into the driveway forty minutes later. Alli must have been psychic or have ESP, Dean thought, because she was the first one down the stairs and at the door, waiting to greet them with an enthusiastic squeal. "Uncle Sam! Uncle Bobby! Did you bring me presents?"

Dean watched from the doorway as Sam laughed, pulling Alli up into his arms and swinging her around. "Alli! How's my favorite niece doing?"

“Favorite?” Alli said mock indignantly, using her hands to brace herself on Sam’s shoulders. “Stop being stupid. I’m your only niece!”

Sam snorted, muffling his laughter as he carefully set her down and ruffled her hair. “Yep, definitely Dean’s kid. Nice to see you too, Alli,” he said.

The sight of Sam, happier than Dean had seen him in far too many years, chatting with his future daughter squeezed his heart and tugged on some distinctly mushy strings. Dean wasn’t having any of that. Things had gotten way too chick flick for him in the last 24 hours. Dean was done- he’d reached his maximum quota (and far surpassed it).

Dean stepped into Sam’s line of view, his gait manly and his expression smug, just as Bobby walked up behind Sam. Bobby had walked up behind Sam. Dean’s eyes practically bugged out of his skull and his jaw dropped. “I- your wheelchair! What…?” was all he was able to choke out.

Bobby rolled his eyes at Dean and muttered something like, “Oh, Christ. This is, what, the fourth time now?” before he glared at Dean and snapped, “Stop standing there like a gaping cow, ya idjit! You’re letting all the flies in.”

Sam, on the other hand, stopped dead halfway through the door and stared at Dean suspiciously. It was around then that not-Dean wandered into the room. When he caught sight of Sam, his lips curved up into a positively evil expression and he changed courses, walking over to Dean and wrapping an arm around his waist. “Hey ya, Sammy.”

Dean had no idea what the fuck was going on, but he suspected it was some long-running inside joke. He was about to protest because he hated being left out of the loop and not-Dean was making him uncomfortable with how comfortable this was, when a strangled, almost choking sound emerged from Sam’s mouth. Dean felt a flicker of alarm when he noticed Sam’s face had turned bright red, a horrified expression plastered across it. “Oh fuck no. Not again,” he said, his voice weak and traumatized. Sam turned and fairly fled the house.

Dean watched in stupefied confusion for a moment longer before he shook not-Dean off and glared at him. “Okay, what was that about?”

Not-Dean didn’t get a chance to respond. Bobby stepped forward, pulling off his trucker’s hat and lightly smacked not-Dean upside the head. “What have I told you about flaunting your narcissistic sexuality? It’s disturbing enough for the rest of us- but after that last time… Sam’s gonna be useless for the next two hours, thanks to you!”

“Narcissistic- okay, what the fuck are you guys going on about?” Dean demanded, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach.

“I believe they’re referring to the last time an alternate Dean showed up and the resulting threesome that Sam accidentally walked in on,” Castiel said, Austin trailing him into the room. The angel was carrying a large jug of milk and some plastic cups while Austin had a neatly decorated tray of cookies- the ones Dean had helped make the night before, he realized with a start.

“The what?!” Dean sputtered, taking four huge steps away from the chuckling not-Dean and eying him wearily. And, okay, Dean knew he was good looking. On occasion, he’d even jerked off to himself in a mirror… but that did not mean he wanted to go and literally fuck himself. Sure, Castiel had hinted at it the night before, but Dean had just thought it was a sleep-deprived hallucination or a joke. On further review, he should have remembered that Castiel doesn’t joke. Ever.

“I do not believe an in-depth discussion is appropriate at this time,” Castiel told him seriously, referring to the children. Dean had to admit it was probably for the best. He wasn’t sure he was ready to admit that he might be secretly hot for himself.



No matter how much not-Dean, Bobby, or Castiel asked (or begged) Sam to come back inside, he absolutely refused to even consider it. In a desperate bid to relieve himself of the traumatic mental images assaulting his brain, he’d taken to locking himself in his car and ignoring all who came by to talk to him by blasting his emo music.

In the end, they were forced to send Alli and Austin to go clean up their mess. Alli was more than happy to help and immediately put her dramatic theatrics to good use. Everyone watched nearby from the front porch as Alli all but skipped over to Sam’s side of the car and stopped in front of his window. When Sam refused to look up or acknowledge her, she sent Dean a sneaky look and dragged Austin over to stand beside her.

Dean watched Alli whisper something into Austin’s ear. He gave no way sign of hearing her, but Dean knew he was listening. Before his eyes, Dean saw Alli’s whole body droop forward and hunch in on itself, her shoulders shaking a little. He must have made a small exclamation of worry or something, because Castiel rested a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place. “Just watch,” he said.

So Dean did… and damn, but she was going to be a fine actress one day. Alli reached up and gave two solid, loud knocks on the car window as she looked up. Her hair fell about her pink face in disarray as she stuck out her lower lip and wibbled, eyes brimming with tears and sniffling like someone had just shot her dog. Sam never even had a chance, the poor bastard.

All it took was one glance at Alli’s red, upset face and Austin’s sad blue eyes for Sam to turn off the car and open the door. Sam unfolded himself from the vehicle and loomed over them just long enough to shut the door. He crouched down in front of Alli and Austin, wrapping his big arms around each of them and pulling them both in for a hug. “What’s wrong?” he asked in concern.

Alli gave a great heaving sob and said in a wavering voice, “You don’t want my cookies!”

Sam furrowed his brows and stared at her as he occasionally did Dean when he managed to say something smart and useful. “Of course I want your cookies,” he said slowly, as though he were on unfamiliar grounds. “Why would you think that?”

Alli’s face scrunched up and she looked like she was in severe physical pain for a moment as she tried to ‘get a hold of herself.’ “Because,” she said, crocodile tears dribbling down her chin, “you won’t come inside. I… sob …can’t take bring them out here or they’ll be ruined!”

Dean saw her discreetly nudge the back of Austin’s calf with her knee and raised his eyebrows, impressed and suspicious at the same time. How often did she manage to get away with shit because of her superb acting skills?

As if reading his mind, not-Dean said in a quiet voice, “That’s my girl. This skill of hers has saved her from suspension many times.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, “Suspension? What, like, school? Why would they suspend her?”

Not-Dean chuckled, but it sounded wrong and bitter to Dean’s ears. “She beats the snot out of everyone who bullies Austin. An eight-year old girl beating up a twelve-year-old boy? It’s social suicide at school. They’re finally beginning to get the picture and leave him alone after she broke the last guy’s nose.”

Dean swallowed thickly and said nothing. He ignored the heavy sensation in his gut and turned back to the scene at hand.

Austin was scuffing his shoes on the ground, looking down and rubbing at his eyes with his left fist. His acting wasn’t anywhere near as good as Alli’s, but it didn’t need to be. Sam was a sap and he’d fall for anything. Every. Damn. Time.

As expected, Sam’s kicked puppy-dog face appeared right on schedule and Dean had to smother a laugh at Sam’s predictability. Not-Dean wasn’t as kind. “Okay, don’t worry,” Sam said placating, rubbing both of them on the back. “I’ll go inside and eat some of your cookies.”

Alli let out a squeal of triumphant, her tears drying up instantly. She turned back around and bounced up and down a few times, beaming at the large group of people shivering on the front porch. “I did it just like you asked!” she shouted, ignoring Sam now that she’d gotten the desired result. “Can I open my presents now?”

Both Dean and not-Dean face-palmed simultaneously, turning away from the mutinous look of dawning rage on Sam’s face. Castiel winced and shut his eyes while Bobby threw his head back and roared with laughter.

Sam stalked up to them, his long legs making it difficult for Alli and Austin to keep up with him. He stopped in front of not-Dean and scowled at him, and cuffed his lightly upside the head. With a huff of frustration, Sam gave not-Dean one last bitchface before he strode inside, tossing a last smartass remark over his shoulder. "Using your kids to get your way isn't very manly, Dean."

And that was how Sam found himself sitting on the edge of the couch, a plate of cookies in his lap and a cup of milk nearby as Alli and Austin tore open the presents under the Christmas tree. Their enthusiasm was refreshing and it relaxed everyone within visible distance- even Sam, disgruntled as he was.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean kept an eye on both Sam and Bobby. He could hardly believe that they were both still here, alive and doing better than good. At first, he’d simply assumed that future Sam wasn’t alive (why else wouldn’t he be around?).

When Dean had first heard that Sam and Bobby were coming for Christmas, he’d been elated (and relieved). Dean wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been for both of them to be so happy and healthy looking. Being here, knowing that this future was a very real possibility, both frightened and relieved Dean. Not that he’d ever admit it.

Sam absently picked up one of the cookies on his plate, a soft look on his face as Alli ripped the wrapping paper off an especially big present and squealed in delight at the dollhouse inside. Dean’s eyes widened and his head jerked around to stare at Sam in muted horror (at the impending explosion of Sam's temper) when he caught sight of the familiar shape. Sam, unaware that he was about to eat Dean’s tit cookie, lifted it to his mouth and took a large bite out of the nipple.

Dean snorted, unable to stifle the laughter welling up inside of him. He slapped his knees, practically howling with laughter. The look of alarmed confusion on everyone’s face only made the situation that much more hilarious for Dean. He pointed at Sam and managed to gasp out, “Ow, my nipple! Sam, you fiend! I didn’t mean for you to literally take a bite out of me.”

Not-Dean was the first person to understand what Dean was talking about. Being his future counterpart, he, of course, found it just as funny and added his own laughter to the mix. Dean wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have heard Bobby chuckling at some point (but that might have just been his imagination).

It took them ten minutes to calm down. Sam’s cry of, “What the fuck! This cookie… DEAN!” had only served to start them back up again, along with Castiel’s disapproval at Sam’s choice of language. Every time Dean started to calm down, he’d glance over at Sam’s face or not-Dean’s and end up cracking up again. It was refreshing, invigorating, to be able to laugh like this.

By the time Dean had managed to stifle his laughter to chuckles and wipe the tears of mirth from his eyes, everyone had already turned back to watch Alli and Austin open their Christmas presents. Dean grinned at not-Dean and waved at Sam, who had his arms crossed over his chest, but was reluctantly grinning at them in amusement.

There weren’t that many Christmas presents for the kids (money was scarce after the Apocalypse), but Alli and Austin seemed happy enough with them. Austin had received a new sketch pad, a large box of art supplies, a science kit, and couple canvases from not-Dean and Castiel along with a remote controlled car from Sam and a couple physics books from Bobby.

Alli had gotten a dollhouse, a couple of superhero action figures (she popped the heads off of barbies), and a model car kit of the Impala to put together (she was a real grease monkey). Sam had given her the boxset to the entire series of Stargate: Atlantis and there were a couple of books on old cars from Bobby.

Of course, the kids had wanted to take everything out of their boxes and play with them. Dean watched in amusement as not-Dean, Sam, and Castiel struggled to open the old lady-proofed boxed toys until Castiel used his angelic mojo to simply banish the packaging. “That’s cheating! You need to do it the manly way,” Dean said.

“Pffft.” Dean glanced over at Sam and the torn packaging strewn around him. Okay, so maybe he didn’t need Castiel’s powers, brute strength was always a great alternative. “Aww, look at Sammy! You’re all grown up and opening boxes by yourself. How precious.”

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean and gave him an easy smile. “Better than you can say, old man.” Dean guessed that was Sam’s way of telling him that he was forgiven. That was all well and good, but there was no reason to be cruel about it.

“Bitch,” Dean and not-Dean said at the same time before glancing over at each other with a slightly creeped out look.

“Jerk,” Sam said automatically. He eyed the two of them suspiciously, his lips twisted into some between a frown and a sneer. “Also, never do that again. It was bad enough last time when you both came…” he trailed off, shuddering and looking haunted.



Sometime around 11AM, Alli threw aside her new presents, paused SGA in the middle of an episode, and announced, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be outside making snowmen.” Without giving anyone a chance to respond, she sauntered out of the room. Austin stopped in midstroke, carefully set down one of his new charcoal pencils, and ran after her.

“You will require weather appropriate clothing,” Castiel said, standing and ignoring not-Dean’s grabby hands. He strode over to the hall closet, opening the door and pulling out gloves, scarves, hats, ear muffs, and snowsuits. “Put these on so you do not weaken your immune systems.”

Alli groaned and gave Dean a look that clearly said, ‘Parents. What are you gonna do?’ before accepting the outfit without complaint. Dean grinned, remembering how gruff and protective their Dad had been the few times he’d let Sam and him out to play.

Dean stood up, brushing the cookie crumbs off his pants (the tit cookie had been delicious) and said, “I’m in. Just let me go get my jacket.” Alli grinned and clapped her gloved hands together in excitement while everyone stared at Dean like he’d lost his mind.

“What?” Dean snapped defensively, staring at not-Dean, Bobby, and Sam. “How long has it been since we got to go out and play in the snow like normal human beings? …Besides, I’d like a chance to try out some snowtits.” Chuckling, he turned and ran upstairs.

Five minutes later, Dean was surprised to find everyone struggling into snowsuits and looking as though they were preparing themselves for a blizzard. Well, everyone except Bobby, who was sitting across the room and nursing a thermos of whiskey.

Alli was ready to go and bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet. Castiel was immaculate, dressed up head to toe and looking positively ridiculous (like a puffed up penguin) with a somber expression as he zipped up Austin’s coat. “…the hell?”

Bobby snorted from across the room and said with a chuckle. “Castiel insists that everyone be prepared since it‘s ‘human tradition.’ Wear the outfit or be stuck inside. Personally, I’d rather stay right where I am.”

Dean glanced over at not-Dean and found him bickering with Sam over who the bigger wuss was as they stuck their arms into the sleeves of their coats. “You’re both huge pussies. You’re whipped,” he said to not-Dean, ignoring his sputtering and turning to Sam, “and you were always a pussy. It’s in your nature.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean and zipped his coat up. “You do realize you just called yourself a whipped… loser, right?” he said, glancing over at a highly unimpressed Castiel. The angel sighed and told the kids to go get started without them. Alli gave a whoop of joy and tore out of the house, Austin following at a more sedate pace.

“No, I called my future-self whipped. This future is only a possible future. I may not end up whipped in another one,” Dean said smugly. In all honestly, though, Dean didn’t mind the idea of being whipped by Castiel. If it meant he got to keep all of this, it was a small price to pay. He’d never tell Sam that, though.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but Castiel interrupted him. “Put this on, Dean,” he said, heaping yet another huge pile of snow gear into Dean’s arms.

“No,” Dean said firmly. There was no way he could accept any of this clothing without looking like a hypocrite (even if he was). It was a matter of pride. “I’m not from this timeline. You can’t use sex to persuade me.” Castiel’s eyes widened and, for a moment, Dean thought maybe he’d gone too far and the angel might hit him (which was honestly ridiculous, Castiel would never strike anyone, much less Dean).

“Very well,” Castiel said, looking resigned and maybe a little hurt. He took the clothing back from Dean and hung it back up in the closet. “But you will wear these gloves to avoid injuring the nerves in your hands.”

Dean ignored the onslaught of guilt, took a look at the amused expression on Sam’s face as well as the worry on not-Deans, and said a little gruffy, “Fine.” Pause. “Jesus Christ, why do you have so much snow gear anyway? Where is it all coming from- Narnia?”

“I was given to understand that it is good to be prepared.” Castiel ignored the reference to Narnia (or, more likely, he didn’t get it) and handed Dean the gloves. As he watched Dean slip them on, he stepped forward and pressed the palm of his hand to Dean’s forehead. “This will help you to keep warm,” he said before Dean could ask.

A jolt of heat shot through Dean’s body and settled in his abdomen, leaving him heady and toasty warm. There was a burning in his belly not unlike the sensation that drinking large quantities of alcohol on an empty stomach provided.

“Whoa,” Dean said, feeling a little tipsy and weak behind the knees. “This is weird.”

Not-Dean smirked and clapped him on shoulder with more force than necessary, a warning. It was probably something like: ‘I don’t care if you are me. You hurt Cas’ feelings again and I will fuck you up, bitch.’ Dean’s knees threatened to buckle beneath him, but he somehow managed to resist. “You get used it really quickly.”

And, wow, suddenly everything made sense with startling clarity! This was why not-Dean hadn’t needed any extra clothing last night and had been practically radiating warmth. Actually, that was kind of cool. Dean was going to have to ask his Cas about it sometime after he got back.

Bobby wished them all a pleasant time freezing their asses off, sounding a little tipsy himself, as they trooped outside to join the kids. “Not whipped, my ass,” Sam muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Dean to hear as he watched Castiel and not-Dean head toward Alli and Austin, who were in the middle of making a snowman.

Dean looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Sam, smirking like he knew the world’s greatest secret. “At least I’m not dressed up like retard in the ‘nippley’ weather,” he said, raising his hand and crooking a finger at him.

Sam scowled at him and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Only you would be immature enough to make ‘tit cookies,’ Dean,” he said, curling his nose up at the unsavory word.

“Bring it on, bitch,” Dean said mockingly, pretending to look bored.

“Oh it’s so on, you jerk!” Sam said before he tackled Dean into the snow. They began to tussle, wrestling around on the snow and laughing as they tried to shove snow down each other’s shirts. Adrenaline coursed through Dean’s body as he tried to get the upper hand.

As much as he hated to admit it, Sam usually won due to his greater strength. There was no way Dean could compete with his brute strength or size if his brother managed to get him pinned. If Dean wanted to win the match, he had to use his street smarts and his speed to catch Sam off guard.

Dean rolled to the left and just barely managed to avoid getting the breath knocked out of him (where he’d be subsequently pinned down and lose the match). Jumping to his feet, Dean took a few steps back, his eyes fixed on an advancing Sam when he slipped on a patch of ice a fell backwards… into the snowman the kids had been trying to make.

The snowman was split in half by Dean’s head cutting through the middle, the snow falling inward and piling atop his face. Oh, holy shit! That was fucking cold and painful! Angelic heating power or not, plunging your head into a large pile of snow gave you a horrible brain freeze!

Dean groaned, sitting up and brushing the snow off his face with a plethora of high-pitched curses and wheezing when he noticed the unnatural silence. He froze, lowering his hands in his lap and looking around him.

Alli and Austin stood to his right, staring down at him with wide eyes and open mouths. Not-Dean and Castiel were on his left, looking worried and emotionless respectively. Sam was in front of him, gaping and guilty. What the fuck? Why did everyone look so upset? It was just a snowman! They hadn’t even finished putting the three balls of snow together yet, so, what the hell…?

There was a small sound on the right. All eyes snapped over to Austin, staring as though they were anticipating the worst. Austin was looking down at his feet, his hands clenched into fists and his breathing increasing until he was practically hyperventilating. Wheeze, gasp, gasp, silence… repeat.

Dean shifted, unsure of himself, but certain that it had to do with Austin. The boy was an artist. What if he got really upset if someone ruined his art? “I, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your snowman,” Dean started. He was cut off by an odd, rasping, hoarse noise. It started off small, quiet, and thready. It was barely noticeable at first, but it grew with strength until it was a deafening in the silence.

With a shock, Dean realized it was laughter. Austin was laughing… out loud, using his voice. The boy dropped to his knees, grinning and chuckling as he looked over at not-Dean and Castiel, his eyes sparkling. Alli squealed and threw herself at him, pulling him into a tight hug as she said, “Austin, you made a noise! I heard your voice. Thank you. You need to do it more often, okay?”

Dean’s throat closed up at the sound, his heart pounding and feeling like it was about to explode. Not-Dean was choked up, his face twisted into something between pain and happiness. He was blinking rapidly, as though he were holding back tears, and Castiel… Castiel had a weird expression on his face. It was unlike anything Dean had ever seen before and he couldn’t put a word to it.

“Yes,” Castiel said, his voice raw, “I would like to hear it again too.” Not-Dean nodded, apparently too choked up to speak.

Dean shifted, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It felt like he was intruding on something personal and intimate that he wasn’t meant to be a part of. He got to his feet and walked over to Sam, who had a dopey smile on his face, and shoved his hands into his own pockets.

He did not expect the freezing slush of snow to hit him on the back of his neck. Dean yelped, whirling around to face the culprit, and was shocked to see Austin standing there, a pile of snow in his hand, grinning. “Wha-” he started, but was interrupted by a face full of snow. “Okay, that’s it. This is war!” he said, brushing the snow off of his face.

By the time Dean had a snowball of his own and was ready to retaliate, Austin was missing and Alli had run off giggling. The tension mounted and it quickly escalated into an all out snowball fight. Castiel wanted nothing to do with it, maintaining that fighting was wrong outside of necessity. He must have been trying to set a good example for the kids or something, because Castiel was a warrior of the Lord.

Dean made it his personal mission to best Sam at every turn- even if that meant he’d have to team up with his future counterpart of do it. After the third time Dean and not-Dean managed to tackle Sam and shove snow down his shirt, Sam retired from the snow war and went inside to change his clothes and warm up.

not-Dean and Dean high-fived each other and promptly became enemies. It was every man for himself and with sneaky children and angels around, they didn’t have the time to ignore their surroundings to see which was stronger. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t secretly have a grudge match to see which one had better tactical prowess.

Dean reached down and scooped up a fist full of snow, packing it together and rounding it off with his gloved hands. There was a flash of motion to his left and an unnatural breeze. Castiel, perfect. He'd teach the angel that using his wings was an unfair advantage and that cheaters never win (except for those times where they do). Dean looked up, meticulously scanning the horizon for Castiel when not-Dean popped up beside him and went back to back.

Not-Dean glanced over at him with a smirk. Apparently, he caught the devious look in Dean's eyes, because he grinned, catching onto the plan without a need for words. With a nod, not-Dean acknowledged Dean's brilliance and offered his skills to help in any way possible. It was around then that Dean realized he'd spent way too much time in the future. There was no way he should be able to have a conversation with anyone (not even his future counterpart) in the span of a few seconds with only a grin and a nod.

To his left, Alli peeked out from behind a tree, drew her arm back and hurled a snowball at Dean full force. He just barely managed to get out of the way in time (not-Dean wasn't as lucky). "Hah! You're going to have to do better than that to-" A ball of snow hit him in the back. Dean gave a very unmanly yelp (that he would later deny ever happened) as freezing snow splashed off the back of his neck. "The hell?!"

Dean whirled around just in time to see Austin duck back into the bushes, quiet hoarse laughter the only evidence that he'd been there. "A sneak attack!" he said, his chest squeezing at the sound of Austin's mirth. "Alli was a diversion to get me away from future-me long enough to gun us both done. Ohh, you two are good. Obviously, you've learned from the best." Dean was grinning as he spoke, pride abundant in his voice.

Dean shifted the snowball melting in his hands and soaking the material of his gloves as he glanced in Alli's direction. Castiel was standing next to her, squeezing her shoulder with a small almost-smile. not-Dean crept up behind Castiel, smirking and sending a wink in Dean's direction as he wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist and pulled him back against his body. "Hey, Cas."

Castiel leaned back against not-Dean, his lips quirked and his eyebrows raised just a little. "Yes, Dean?"

Dean fell into one of his more subtle fighting stances, making sure to discreetly pull his arm back and prepare it to launch a snowball at the angel. He was tensed and poised to attack, his ears straining as he waited for a signal. Any signal. not-Dean dropped a hand to Castiel's hip, looked up at Dean with a smile and said, "Don't forget. Make the right choice."

By the time it occurred to Dean that there was something odd about that statement, he'd already drawn his arm back, felt a tug behind his navel, and been spat back down onto the diner booth where three things happened in quick succession. Castiel jumped up and used his wings to fly back a few feet in alarm, Dean launched the snowball and smacked his hand (painfully) off the table, and Sam was thrown out of his chair at the force of the snowball hitting him in the face. "Son of a bitch!"

The diner came to a standstill, the silence more deafening than the chaos ever could have been. Onlookers watched with drawn breaths as a heavy-set man with a thick brown mustache stalked over and gestured at the destroyed chair, his face purple with fury. The calm illusion that had settled over everyone was broken when the manager began to shout, voice echoing off the walls.

As though transfixed, everyone watched in silence as two of the strange men attempted to bullshit their way out of the situation (despite how obviously baffled they were by it themselves)while the third stood nearby and watched apathetically. It didn't come as a surprise when they were asked to leave (Dean made sure to grab his jacket this time) and never come back and only Sherrie seemed particularly mournful about it.

"What the hell just happened?" Sam said the moment they were outside. He was staring at Dean suspiciously, his hand inching towards the weapon concealed at his waist. "Who are you? Where's the real Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes and glared at Sam. "Right, like I would be stupid enough to magic away the real me and leave a replacement in the presence of an angel. Really, Sam, for being so smart you sure can be pretty stupid." Dean waved a hand dismissively and scanned the parking lot for the Impala. He found it right where he'd left it and even from here he could tell that it was, as of yet, untouched by children. Bingo. "Cas would have noticed by now if I wasn't the real Dean."

"Well excuse me for being-"

"Dean is correct. He is the same Dean," Castiel interrupted, but he looked almost uneasy. "However, there is evidence of a leftover angelic residue on his person."

Dean frowned, scrunching his nose up in distaste. "Ugh, Cas, stop it. You make it sound like some angel made me his bitch, violated me, and left me drenched in invisible jizz."

"And that's a scarring mental image I'll never be rid of," Sam said with a groan, dropping his face into his hands.

Castiel raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, appearing to consider it. Dean fished out his keys and headed for the Impala, Sam and Castiel following absently. "While crude, your analogy it is not entirely incorrect," Castiel said at last.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Dean said, ignoring Castiel's disapproving look and stopping in front of the Impala. You can do this, Winchester. You know he has feelings for you, don't worry about rejection. Five years from now you'll be practically married with two kids, he thought. Dean looked over at Sam, took a deep breath, and with a smirk, threw the car keys at him. "Heads up, Sammy!" he said.

Sam caught them automatically, his expression twisted in confused. "I- what?" he said before turning to Castiel and asking, "Are you sure this is our Dean? He's not acting very... Dean-like."

"Yes." Castiel pursed his lips and raked his eyes over Dean, through Dean, with an intensity that left him hot and tingling. Dean needed Sam to leave. Right now. "I am certain this is 'our' Dean."

"You know, I can hear you," Dean said, scowling at both of them and ignoring the heat pooling in his groin. "Sam, take the Impala and head back to the motel. We'll meet you there later." Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder to emphasize his point.

"Okay, what? Who are you?" Sam crossed his arms over his chest and his bitchface replaced his worried expression. "Seriously, Dean. What happened to you? How'd you manage to become an even bigger douche than usual?"

"I've been stuck five years in the future for a few days, same old. We'll talk about it later." Dean gave Sam a pointed look and nodded at the Impala. When Sam just stood there and sputtered in confusion, refusing to budge, Dean gave a loud, put-upon sigh and said, "I tried to warn you, Sammy."

There was a small knot of anxiety building in Dean's stomach. He promptly ignored it as he turned to face Castiel and, to his amusement, found the marinara sauce from earlier was still there, dried up at the corners of the angel's mouth. With a snort of amusement, Dean stepped into Castiel's space and cupped his stubbled jaw with the palms of his hands.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," Dean admitted, his heart beginning to pound. Oh god, what was he doing? What if this was all some elaborate trick? This was the Trickster he was dealing with. It'd be right up his alley. Only… it wouldn't be. It wasn't his style. There was nothing Gabriel would gain from this. There was no way to go back.

There was no way of knowing if there was an underlying agenda to this mess. All Dean knew for certain was that after getting a taste of a possible future, there was no way he could go back to who he was before without at least trying to achieve it. The only thing he could do was play the Trickster's game and see where it lead him.

Dean dropped his forehead to Castiel's, his thumbs rubbing circles against the skin of his jaw as he pressed himself up against the angel. Castiel stared back at him, his blue eyes wide and transfixed. "Dean," he said, his voice wrecked and needy.

From somewhere behind him, Dean could hear a vague choking noise. "I can see you two need some time to yourself. I'll see you back at the motel!" Sam said, his voice strangled. Seconds later a car door slammed shut and the Impala peeled out of the parking lot with a loud screech. Dean would have to remember to bitch at Sam about it later.

"Cas, you still have sauce on your face." Dean tilted Castiel's face up, closer towards him, and flicked his tongue out, teasing the corners of Castiel’s mouth.

Castiel gave a small huff of exasperation. "I grow tired of this foreplay, Dean," he said gravely, clasping a hand to the back of Dean's neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Their lips locked, Castiel's tongue licking into his mouth in a heated duel of dominance that knocked Dean off guard. Wow, so maybe Dean could understand what his future counterpart found so arousing about letting the angel take control in the bedroom.



With the happy sigh of a job well done, Gabriel dropped into his favorite recliner chair with a smirk... and promptly jumped back out again. "What the fuck?" he sputtered, rubbing a hand against his bruised tailbone and eying the seat for the origin of his discomfort. There was a small tin box the size of a paperback book with vivid red and gold designs, a half-crumpled piece of paper taped to the top of it.

Gabriel absolutely did not give a squeal of delight when he realized exactly what the container was. He snatched up the tin box, barely managing to suppress his glee as he ripped off the lid and popped a bonbon into his mouth. "Oh my Lord, how I have missed you," he said, closing his eyes and moaning. It had been almost fifteen hours since he'd run out of bonbons and, try as he might, none of the ones he'd forced the humans to make for him had been good enough.

Five bonbons later, the Trickster sank into his chair with a blissed out grin. Absently, he felt around for the tin's lid, ripping the paper off of it as an afterthought. He opened the note, pausing to consume another bonbon before dropping his eyes to the sheet and reading.

Gabriel,

Thanks for the help. As promised, a tin of self-replicating bonbons blessed by Michael himself.

Next time, learn to "grow some balls" (as Dean would say) and ask him yourself.

Castiel

Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes and sucking on his fingers as he flung the note somewhere behind him. Grow some balls, indeed. How hypocritical when the wuss himself had been too scared to make a move on Dean without an outside intervention. It was practically a challenge. Or perhaps an offer to intrude on his so-called privacy. Gabriel had never been one to back away from a challenge.

With a snap of his fingers, the Trickster turned on the TV and tuned in to the Dean and Castiel show, adult edition. The screen faded in from black. Two intertwined bodies were writhing under a sea of stars in a wide-open field, nothing but exotic flowers as far as the eye could see-"Oh for crying out loud! Could you two be anymore pathetic? Your porn is sweet enough to rot even my teeth!"

Gabriel was forced to eat yet another three bonbons to console himself. By the time he felt he could go on living without wanting to shoot himself in the face, the box had regenerated all the bonbons inside three times over. Gabriel glanced at the TV again, frowning when he realized the channel had been changed and the screen was focusing on a miserable looking Sam.

"Hmm," the Trickster murmured to himself, sucking on a bonbon as he eyed the screen with interest. "I suppose I do owe him a 'favor' for all the grief those two are going to cause him, he’s emo enough as it is. Anyway, this could be... fun." With a laugh (and a little bit of choking- always remember to swallow your food before attempting a maniacal cackle), Gabriel snapped his fingers and disappeared.