Snowfall
Rating: PG-13
Length - 2,722 words
Warnings - Mild angst, fluff, spoilers for first half of S6
Summary - Written last year as a Secret Santa present. All Dean wants for Christmas is for it to snow, and Castiel is determined to make it happen.
It was Christmas Eve, and New York Public Library was practically deserted. There were only a few devoted scholars occupying the large reading room, and none of them noticed the man who made his way slowly between the desks to approach a solitary reader at the end of the room.
No one had paid any attention to the reader himself either. He was a pale, dark haired man wearing a fawn colored trench coat. If they had bothered to examine him they may have noticed something… remarkable about him, but he was intentionally inconspicuous. He liked to be able to go about unobserved. None of the scholars would have guessed for a moment that they were in the presence of two angels.
“Hello, Castiel.”
The man in the trench coat, who had been poring over a large selection of books, looked up in surprise. “Balthazar!”
Balthazar took a seat beside his brother, and glanced at the books he was reading. Edward Relph’s Annotated Bibliography of Snow and Ice Problems, Souster’s Survey of the Existing Data on the Physical Characteristics of Snowfall, P. Sauvain’s About the Weather… “Dare I ask?”
Castiel looked a little abashed. “It’s… a project I am working on.”
“Well, it’s not that I don’t want you to have a hobby, but aren’t there slightly more important things to focus on right now?”
Castiel sighed deeply, refusing to meet Balthazar’s eyes. “It’s… for Dean.”
Balthazar groaned. “I might have guessed. What has your idiot human gotten himself into this time?”
“Nothing! It’s not… It’s… It’s something he wants. And I… I want to give it to him.”
“You mean a Christmas present?”
“Something like that.”
“Castiel, you cannot keep spending so much time and energy doing things for Dean Winchester!” Balthazar said patiently. “We are in the middle of a civil war, and-”
“I realize that,” Castiel snapped. “I don’t expect you to understand. Dean and I share-”
“Castiel, I love you, but I swear by the name of our father that if you mention your ‘profound bond’ with Dean one more time, I’ll kick your ass into the next dimension.”
The two angels stared at each other angrily, and the reading room lights flickered a little. Balthazar was the first to back down. “All right, all right,” he sighed wearily. “What is it exactly that you’re trying to do?”
Castiel looked at his brother appraisingly.
“Castiel, I am not here to judge.”
“Very well. It’s… it’s to do with something Dean said to me yesterday…”
~*~
“Dean, you’re drunk.”
Dean looked blearily up at Castiel, who seemed to be a little fuzzy round the edges. He laughed. “Yeah.” He got to his feet, swaying dangerously.
Castiel grabbed his elbow and held him steady. “You are supposed to be working.” His voice was mildly disapproving, which made Dean feel worse than it should.
“Not a big deal.” He leant against the angel. “It’s only a ghost. Not even a very bad one. Sam’s burning the bones. What else is there for me to do ‘cept stay in the room and drink whiskey? Not like Sammy actually needs my help.”
Castiel placed Dean gently on the bed, and sat down beside him. “He needs you to be strong.”
“No he doesn’t,” Dean said softly. “He doesn’t need anything from me now.”
“But he will. Once we find a way to get his soul back, he will need your support more than ever.”
Dean sighed. He completely understood why his brother found things so much easier without a soul, because he could feel his own aching. “You know it’s nearly Christmas?”
“Yes.”
“We never had a good Christmas. I’ve tried not to care, but… but I’m damn tired, Cas.” He grabbed the angel’s arm. “Cas, could you… you’re making me nervous looming over me like that. C’mere. Lie down.”
Castiel did so slowly, as if doing anything as relaxed as lying down was completely unnerving for him. Dean didn’t let go of his arm, too intoxicated for any of his usual reservations, greedy for any kind of contact.
“I’m sorry,” Castiel said.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry for your suffering. I wish I could help.”
Dean gave his arm a small squeeze. “You do. Sometimes you’re all that keeps me… Yeah. You help. And I know it’s stupid to want anything nice, but… if just one year Christmas could be… I dunno. Just… something.”
“What would you want?”
Dean laughed quietly. “You mean apart from wanting all the shit to stop? I want… Don’t laugh.”
Castiel looked confused. “Why would I laugh?”
Dean sighed. “I kinda… I wish it’d snow. It’s nice. I mean, if I’m not driving in it. It makes everything all… new. And I know wanting it to snow for Christmas is beyond lame, and I know I’m being a kid, but… it’d just be… nice.” He laughed. “But it’s stupid. I mean, we’re in Florida. The A/C’s on full-blast and it’s still hot. Stupid. It’s all just… stupid.”
Dean turned towards the angel and threw an arm over his chest. He buried his face in Castiel’s neck, and smiled. Castiel smelled like fresh, fresh air, the kind you get on top of mountains. He kind of smelled like… snow.
~*~
“He cuddled you?” Balthazar said. “He actually cuddled you? Well, no wonder you’ve gone silly in the head. Castiel, I do believe you’re actually blushing.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Oh, come on. I’m sorry. So… what is it exactly that you’re trying to achieve?”
Castiel frowned. “I’m trying to understand. I’ve been reading about snow, but it’s not really… these books are just telling me what I already know. Extratropical cyclones… nimbostratus clouds… arctic air masses… None of it tells me why Dean wants snow so badly, or why it is especially significant that it happens at Christmas. Unless I understand that, and unless I know exactly what type of snow Dean’s talking about, how can I…”
“You’re going to make it snow for him tomorrow, aren’t you?” Balthazar said flatly.
“Yes.”
“In Southern Florida.”
“Yes.”
“People will talk.”
“They always do. And, as always, they will find a rational explanation for it. It won’t be easy of course, but he… I want to make him happy. Even if he doesn’t know it was me. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“No, I understand.”
“But if I give him the wrong snow, none of it will count. Dean was talking about Christmas snow, but none of these books mention that.”
Balthazar looked at his brother sadly. He knew better than anyone what Castiel had been through over the past three years. He also knew, although they had never explicitly discussed it, the impact that Dean Winchester had had on his fellow angel. Castiel loved him. Loved him enough to die for him. Loved him enough to obsess over giving Dean a white Christmas when half of the heavenly host was out for his blood. Balthazar wasn’t entirely sure that the human deserved it, but then what did he know? He was Castiel’s choice, and Balthazar believed that love could never be a bad thing, even if it was damn impractical. “All right,” he sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you. If this is what you really want, I will do my best to keep the attention of others… elsewhere.”
Castiel gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
“Oh, and if you want to find out about Christmas snow, looking at books on weather isn’t going to help.”
“What will?”
“Well, there are a good few Christmas movies I can recommend. My personal favorite? The Muppet Christmas Carol.” He smiled. “Ah, Kermit. Never fails to raise a smile.”
Castiel looked at him as though he’d gone completely insane. Balthazar thought that Castiel was in no position to judge.
~*~
It was getting dark. Dean turned off the TV, which was showing White Christmas, with a snarl, and flopped down on the bed. It was Christmas Day, and Dean felt pretty strongly that his new spirit animal was the Grinch. Yes, they’d solved the case they were working with relative ease. And yeah, Sam really had been making an effort to be considerate today, and had gone out especially to get them some eggnog and junk food. But still Dean was feeling surly and belligerent and had never been less endowed with seasonal spirit in his life.
It was all because of his stupid angel. Actually, no. That wasn’t fair. None of this was Cas’s fault, and Dean knew it. It had been him. He’d been the one who had gotten stupidly drunk, and who’d gotten all handsy. He’d practically fallen asleep on top of Castiel. Just thinking about it now made Dean feel like his insides were screwing up in shame. He’d made so much effort with Cas. He’d tried his damnedest not to show how badly he needed the angel, how he hated it when he wasn’t around, how much that year without him had hurt. He’d kept his distance. And now he’d just ruined everything by getting trashed and coming on way too strong. He’d scared Castiel off. He’d known it from the moment he’d woken up in his bed alone the previous morning, feeling like there was an ice-pick lodged in his skull. Stupid Dean. Stupid, stupid Dean, always wanting things he couldn’t have.
Dean’s self pity had begun another downward spiral, when Sam burst into the room. “Dean!”
“What?” Dean growled, not opening his eyes.
“Dean, it’s snowing!”
“What?” Dean sat up and stared at his brother, who was looking pretty comical with white snowflakes melting on his hair.
“It’s snowing.” Sam did not look happy about it. “I was at the store, and it was, you know, normal. But then on the way home it got cold. Like, suddenly extremely cold. I thought maybe it was something supernatural, but then it clouded over and it just started snowing like crazy, and… and I left all my warm clothes at Bobby’s. What the hell, dude? I mean… what the hell? And I don’t see what there is to smile about.”
For the first time all day, Dean could feel a little bubble of happiness in his chest. He got off the bed and looked out of the window. Sam was right. The empty motel parking lot was obscured by large, swirling snowflakes, and it had already settled, making everything look soft and white and new. “It’s Christmas snow, Sam! It’s real Christmas snow!”
“Yeah. Great. Whatever. All I know is that this room has no heating and I don’t have a jacket.”
“Oh, lighten up, Sammy. It’s Christmas!”
Sam started to object that he wasn’t the one who’d been stomping around for the past two days scowling at everyone who dared to cross his path, but Dean wasn’t listening. He grabbed his own jacket - which he had had the foresight to bring along - off the back of the armchair, and went out the door.
It was so quiet. Not that there was usually a lot of noise in the little Florida town they were staying in, but the snow put a muffler on everything. The cold hit Dean at once, and he instinctively pulled his jacket collar up. He wouldn’t be able to stay out here for long, but short of getting hypothermia, he was going to stick it out as long as he could. Everything looked magical and glittering and perfect. The snow settled on the trees and rooftops like frosting, and Dean tipped his face back and closed his eyes. The snow fell still, kissing him gently, making him feel that maybe good things did happen after all.
~*~
Castiel watched from above, unseen. Dean was smiling. Castiel had made him smile.
“He wants you to go to him,” Balthazar said.
“Balthazar!” Castiel had thought he was alone. “I thought that you were… did you not promise that you would keep the attention of the other angels away from me for a while?”
“I did. They’re distracted. But, brother, my real gift to you is to ensure that you don’t deny yourself anymore. You love this human. You love him, and he, in his strange, confused way, loves you. And he will do so properly if you give him permission. Can’t you see that he wants you to go to him?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s… It would only bring more trouble, and he…”
“Castiel.”
“Balthazar, I don’t know if it’s right; I don’t know if-”
Balthazar gave him a hard shove, and Castiel fell to earth.
~*~
There was a crunch right in front of him, and Dean’s eyes snapped open, his guard up again. But it was Castiel. Castiel, looking a little flustered, up to his ankles in snow.
“Cas!”
“Dean.”
“Cas, it’s snowing!”
The angel smiled. “It had caught my notice, yes.”
Dean laughed. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Castiel looked awkward. “What makes you think that I-”
“Oh, come on! We’re in Southern Florida. It was boiling earlier, and now suddenly there’s snow, a couple of days after I… after I…”
“Well, you said that you wanted something good to happen for once. And while I still don’t understand why frozen water falling from the sky is a good thing, I concede that it has a certain… aesthetic appeal. And I… whatever else you might believe of me, I want you to be happy.”
Dean didn’t even notice the cold anymore. “So how’d you do it?” He asked quietly.
“Air pockets.”
“Air pockets?”
“Yes. I swapped a mile-wide air pocket here with one in Lapland. I have it on good authority that they make the best Christmas snow in Lapland. It wasn’t easy, and it will probably cause certain… complications, and I am not at all sure what will happen if any of the… higher authorities find out what I’ve done, but… but you deserved to be… to be happy.” He was staring at his feet, even though they were now completely obscured by snow, and Dean didn’t think he had ever looked so adorable.
“You did all this just for me?”
“I have done a lot more for you in the past.”
“No, come on, that was… that was for the war. That was for what you felt was right, for fighting the apocalypse, not because of-”
“Dean, I have been telling myself that ever since I first knew you, but I can’t pretend any more. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve fought for, everything I have sacrificed… I know it should have been for God, and Heaven, and Peace, but it was for you. It was always you. You made me… feel."
Dean kind of felt like his brain was dissolving a little. If he wasn’t so damn cold, he’d think he was dreaming. “You… like me?” He said lamely.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Dean took a step towards the angel, not caring that the snow was getting in the top of his boots. Castiel was standing perfectly still, waiting for him. Dean reached out and touched his face. “You’re frozen.”
“I don’t feel it,” Castiel whispered.
“Can you… can you feel anything?”
Castiel smiled. “As I said, you make me feel.”
“So if I…” Dean hardly believed his daring. “So if I kissed you… would you feel that?”
Castiel pressed his lips together nervously, staring intently at Dean’s mouth. “I… I believe so.”
Dean leaned in slowly, his heart beating so hard he was sure he could hear it. Castiel was watching him, wide-eyed.
The first kiss was like the snow. Soft and chaste and barely there. Still, Dean felt a thrill go all the way through him as his lips brushed against Castiel’s, like a little spark of heat. Castiel sighed softly and moved closer, resting his head against Dean’s. “Yes, he said softly, “I can definitely feel that.”
There would be more kisses after that, kisses that burned, and together they would discover the full extent of what Dean was capable of making Castiel feel. But tonight was about innocence and softness, and the tentative beginnings of something between two broken beings that was more beautiful than either of them had ever hoped for. Silently, like a caress, the snow continued to fall.
Length - 2,722 words
Warnings - Mild angst, fluff, spoilers for first half of S6
Summary - Written last year as a Secret Santa present. All Dean wants for Christmas is for it to snow, and Castiel is determined to make it happen.
It was Christmas Eve, and New York Public Library was practically deserted. There were only a few devoted scholars occupying the large reading room, and none of them noticed the man who made his way slowly between the desks to approach a solitary reader at the end of the room.
No one had paid any attention to the reader himself either. He was a pale, dark haired man wearing a fawn colored trench coat. If they had bothered to examine him they may have noticed something… remarkable about him, but he was intentionally inconspicuous. He liked to be able to go about unobserved. None of the scholars would have guessed for a moment that they were in the presence of two angels.
“Hello, Castiel.”
The man in the trench coat, who had been poring over a large selection of books, looked up in surprise. “Balthazar!”
Balthazar took a seat beside his brother, and glanced at the books he was reading. Edward Relph’s Annotated Bibliography of Snow and Ice Problems, Souster’s Survey of the Existing Data on the Physical Characteristics of Snowfall, P. Sauvain’s About the Weather… “Dare I ask?”
Castiel looked a little abashed. “It’s… a project I am working on.”
“Well, it’s not that I don’t want you to have a hobby, but aren’t there slightly more important things to focus on right now?”
Castiel sighed deeply, refusing to meet Balthazar’s eyes. “It’s… for Dean.”
Balthazar groaned. “I might have guessed. What has your idiot human gotten himself into this time?”
“Nothing! It’s not… It’s… It’s something he wants. And I… I want to give it to him.”
“You mean a Christmas present?”
“Something like that.”
“Castiel, you cannot keep spending so much time and energy doing things for Dean Winchester!” Balthazar said patiently. “We are in the middle of a civil war, and-”
“I realize that,” Castiel snapped. “I don’t expect you to understand. Dean and I share-”
“Castiel, I love you, but I swear by the name of our father that if you mention your ‘profound bond’ with Dean one more time, I’ll kick your ass into the next dimension.”
The two angels stared at each other angrily, and the reading room lights flickered a little. Balthazar was the first to back down. “All right, all right,” he sighed wearily. “What is it exactly that you’re trying to do?”
Castiel looked at his brother appraisingly.
“Castiel, I am not here to judge.”
“Very well. It’s… it’s to do with something Dean said to me yesterday…”
~*~
“Dean, you’re drunk.”
Dean looked blearily up at Castiel, who seemed to be a little fuzzy round the edges. He laughed. “Yeah.” He got to his feet, swaying dangerously.
Castiel grabbed his elbow and held him steady. “You are supposed to be working.” His voice was mildly disapproving, which made Dean feel worse than it should.
“Not a big deal.” He leant against the angel. “It’s only a ghost. Not even a very bad one. Sam’s burning the bones. What else is there for me to do ‘cept stay in the room and drink whiskey? Not like Sammy actually needs my help.”
Castiel placed Dean gently on the bed, and sat down beside him. “He needs you to be strong.”
“No he doesn’t,” Dean said softly. “He doesn’t need anything from me now.”
“But he will. Once we find a way to get his soul back, he will need your support more than ever.”
Dean sighed. He completely understood why his brother found things so much easier without a soul, because he could feel his own aching. “You know it’s nearly Christmas?”
“Yes.”
“We never had a good Christmas. I’ve tried not to care, but… but I’m damn tired, Cas.” He grabbed the angel’s arm. “Cas, could you… you’re making me nervous looming over me like that. C’mere. Lie down.”
Castiel did so slowly, as if doing anything as relaxed as lying down was completely unnerving for him. Dean didn’t let go of his arm, too intoxicated for any of his usual reservations, greedy for any kind of contact.
“I’m sorry,” Castiel said.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry for your suffering. I wish I could help.”
Dean gave his arm a small squeeze. “You do. Sometimes you’re all that keeps me… Yeah. You help. And I know it’s stupid to want anything nice, but… if just one year Christmas could be… I dunno. Just… something.”
“What would you want?”
Dean laughed quietly. “You mean apart from wanting all the shit to stop? I want… Don’t laugh.”
Castiel looked confused. “Why would I laugh?”
Dean sighed. “I kinda… I wish it’d snow. It’s nice. I mean, if I’m not driving in it. It makes everything all… new. And I know wanting it to snow for Christmas is beyond lame, and I know I’m being a kid, but… it’d just be… nice.” He laughed. “But it’s stupid. I mean, we’re in Florida. The A/C’s on full-blast and it’s still hot. Stupid. It’s all just… stupid.”
Dean turned towards the angel and threw an arm over his chest. He buried his face in Castiel’s neck, and smiled. Castiel smelled like fresh, fresh air, the kind you get on top of mountains. He kind of smelled like… snow.
~*~
“He cuddled you?” Balthazar said. “He actually cuddled you? Well, no wonder you’ve gone silly in the head. Castiel, I do believe you’re actually blushing.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Oh, come on. I’m sorry. So… what is it exactly that you’re trying to achieve?”
Castiel frowned. “I’m trying to understand. I’ve been reading about snow, but it’s not really… these books are just telling me what I already know. Extratropical cyclones… nimbostratus clouds… arctic air masses… None of it tells me why Dean wants snow so badly, or why it is especially significant that it happens at Christmas. Unless I understand that, and unless I know exactly what type of snow Dean’s talking about, how can I…”
“You’re going to make it snow for him tomorrow, aren’t you?” Balthazar said flatly.
“Yes.”
“In Southern Florida.”
“Yes.”
“People will talk.”
“They always do. And, as always, they will find a rational explanation for it. It won’t be easy of course, but he… I want to make him happy. Even if he doesn’t know it was me. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“No, I understand.”
“But if I give him the wrong snow, none of it will count. Dean was talking about Christmas snow, but none of these books mention that.”
Balthazar looked at his brother sadly. He knew better than anyone what Castiel had been through over the past three years. He also knew, although they had never explicitly discussed it, the impact that Dean Winchester had had on his fellow angel. Castiel loved him. Loved him enough to die for him. Loved him enough to obsess over giving Dean a white Christmas when half of the heavenly host was out for his blood. Balthazar wasn’t entirely sure that the human deserved it, but then what did he know? He was Castiel’s choice, and Balthazar believed that love could never be a bad thing, even if it was damn impractical. “All right,” he sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you. If this is what you really want, I will do my best to keep the attention of others… elsewhere.”
Castiel gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
“Oh, and if you want to find out about Christmas snow, looking at books on weather isn’t going to help.”
“What will?”
“Well, there are a good few Christmas movies I can recommend. My personal favorite? The Muppet Christmas Carol.” He smiled. “Ah, Kermit. Never fails to raise a smile.”
Castiel looked at him as though he’d gone completely insane. Balthazar thought that Castiel was in no position to judge.
~*~
It was getting dark. Dean turned off the TV, which was showing White Christmas, with a snarl, and flopped down on the bed. It was Christmas Day, and Dean felt pretty strongly that his new spirit animal was the Grinch. Yes, they’d solved the case they were working with relative ease. And yeah, Sam really had been making an effort to be considerate today, and had gone out especially to get them some eggnog and junk food. But still Dean was feeling surly and belligerent and had never been less endowed with seasonal spirit in his life.
It was all because of his stupid angel. Actually, no. That wasn’t fair. None of this was Cas’s fault, and Dean knew it. It had been him. He’d been the one who had gotten stupidly drunk, and who’d gotten all handsy. He’d practically fallen asleep on top of Castiel. Just thinking about it now made Dean feel like his insides were screwing up in shame. He’d made so much effort with Cas. He’d tried his damnedest not to show how badly he needed the angel, how he hated it when he wasn’t around, how much that year without him had hurt. He’d kept his distance. And now he’d just ruined everything by getting trashed and coming on way too strong. He’d scared Castiel off. He’d known it from the moment he’d woken up in his bed alone the previous morning, feeling like there was an ice-pick lodged in his skull. Stupid Dean. Stupid, stupid Dean, always wanting things he couldn’t have.
Dean’s self pity had begun another downward spiral, when Sam burst into the room. “Dean!”
“What?” Dean growled, not opening his eyes.
“Dean, it’s snowing!”
“What?” Dean sat up and stared at his brother, who was looking pretty comical with white snowflakes melting on his hair.
“It’s snowing.” Sam did not look happy about it. “I was at the store, and it was, you know, normal. But then on the way home it got cold. Like, suddenly extremely cold. I thought maybe it was something supernatural, but then it clouded over and it just started snowing like crazy, and… and I left all my warm clothes at Bobby’s. What the hell, dude? I mean… what the hell? And I don’t see what there is to smile about.”
For the first time all day, Dean could feel a little bubble of happiness in his chest. He got off the bed and looked out of the window. Sam was right. The empty motel parking lot was obscured by large, swirling snowflakes, and it had already settled, making everything look soft and white and new. “It’s Christmas snow, Sam! It’s real Christmas snow!”
“Yeah. Great. Whatever. All I know is that this room has no heating and I don’t have a jacket.”
“Oh, lighten up, Sammy. It’s Christmas!”
Sam started to object that he wasn’t the one who’d been stomping around for the past two days scowling at everyone who dared to cross his path, but Dean wasn’t listening. He grabbed his own jacket - which he had had the foresight to bring along - off the back of the armchair, and went out the door.
It was so quiet. Not that there was usually a lot of noise in the little Florida town they were staying in, but the snow put a muffler on everything. The cold hit Dean at once, and he instinctively pulled his jacket collar up. He wouldn’t be able to stay out here for long, but short of getting hypothermia, he was going to stick it out as long as he could. Everything looked magical and glittering and perfect. The snow settled on the trees and rooftops like frosting, and Dean tipped his face back and closed his eyes. The snow fell still, kissing him gently, making him feel that maybe good things did happen after all.
~*~
Castiel watched from above, unseen. Dean was smiling. Castiel had made him smile.
“He wants you to go to him,” Balthazar said.
“Balthazar!” Castiel had thought he was alone. “I thought that you were… did you not promise that you would keep the attention of the other angels away from me for a while?”
“I did. They’re distracted. But, brother, my real gift to you is to ensure that you don’t deny yourself anymore. You love this human. You love him, and he, in his strange, confused way, loves you. And he will do so properly if you give him permission. Can’t you see that he wants you to go to him?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s… It would only bring more trouble, and he…”
“Castiel.”
“Balthazar, I don’t know if it’s right; I don’t know if-”
Balthazar gave him a hard shove, and Castiel fell to earth.
~*~
There was a crunch right in front of him, and Dean’s eyes snapped open, his guard up again. But it was Castiel. Castiel, looking a little flustered, up to his ankles in snow.
“Cas!”
“Dean.”
“Cas, it’s snowing!”
The angel smiled. “It had caught my notice, yes.”
Dean laughed. “I can’t believe you did this.”
Castiel looked awkward. “What makes you think that I-”
“Oh, come on! We’re in Southern Florida. It was boiling earlier, and now suddenly there’s snow, a couple of days after I… after I…”
“Well, you said that you wanted something good to happen for once. And while I still don’t understand why frozen water falling from the sky is a good thing, I concede that it has a certain… aesthetic appeal. And I… whatever else you might believe of me, I want you to be happy.”
Dean didn’t even notice the cold anymore. “So how’d you do it?” He asked quietly.
“Air pockets.”
“Air pockets?”
“Yes. I swapped a mile-wide air pocket here with one in Lapland. I have it on good authority that they make the best Christmas snow in Lapland. It wasn’t easy, and it will probably cause certain… complications, and I am not at all sure what will happen if any of the… higher authorities find out what I’ve done, but… but you deserved to be… to be happy.” He was staring at his feet, even though they were now completely obscured by snow, and Dean didn’t think he had ever looked so adorable.
“You did all this just for me?”
“I have done a lot more for you in the past.”
“No, come on, that was… that was for the war. That was for what you felt was right, for fighting the apocalypse, not because of-”
“Dean, I have been telling myself that ever since I first knew you, but I can’t pretend any more. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve fought for, everything I have sacrificed… I know it should have been for God, and Heaven, and Peace, but it was for you. It was always you. You made me… feel."
Dean kind of felt like his brain was dissolving a little. If he wasn’t so damn cold, he’d think he was dreaming. “You… like me?” He said lamely.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Dean took a step towards the angel, not caring that the snow was getting in the top of his boots. Castiel was standing perfectly still, waiting for him. Dean reached out and touched his face. “You’re frozen.”
“I don’t feel it,” Castiel whispered.
“Can you… can you feel anything?”
Castiel smiled. “As I said, you make me feel.”
“So if I…” Dean hardly believed his daring. “So if I kissed you… would you feel that?”
Castiel pressed his lips together nervously, staring intently at Dean’s mouth. “I… I believe so.”
Dean leaned in slowly, his heart beating so hard he was sure he could hear it. Castiel was watching him, wide-eyed.
The first kiss was like the snow. Soft and chaste and barely there. Still, Dean felt a thrill go all the way through him as his lips brushed against Castiel’s, like a little spark of heat. Castiel sighed softly and moved closer, resting his head against Dean’s. “Yes, he said softly, “I can definitely feel that.”
There would be more kisses after that, kisses that burned, and together they would discover the full extent of what Dean was capable of making Castiel feel. But tonight was about innocence and softness, and the tentative beginnings of something between two broken beings that was more beautiful than either of them had ever hoped for. Silently, like a caress, the snow continued to fall.