When Dean suddenly kisses Cas in one of the bunker doorways on December 12th, eager and sweet, Cas is equal parts surprised and delighted. “What was that for?”
“I need an excuse now?” Dean asks with playful incredulousness. Still, before Cas can answer, he points upwards. “Mistletoe.”
“Oh,” is all Castiel says. They part ways for the time being and Dean doesn’t think much more on the little holiday tradition.
The next day, in a different hall, Dean is ambushed by a kiss in a suspiciously familiar way. “Mistletoe,” Cas says before he walks away, clearly pleased with himself. Dean shakes his head and laughs, glad to see the guy in such a good mood.
After three days, though, things are getting a little ridiculous. Every doorway in the bunker has a string of mistletoe over it and, knowing Cas, Dean’s fairly sure this is only the beginning.
He does call shenanigans on the one over the bathroom, though. God only knows how long Cas had been waiting to ambush him there.
A week later, Dean has been kissed in every hall the bunker has and his lips have been rubbed a seemingly permanent shade of rose. “I’m gonna need you to work out a closer shave if you’re gonna keep this up,” he tells Cas, but it’s all swallowed up by a long, lazy kiss against the kitchen doorway.
A couple days later, it’s Christmas eve and there’s a surprise waiting in the bedroom Dean shares with Cas.
“Holy shit,” Dean says on a breath. The ceiling of their bedroom is freaking covered in mistletoe, bunches upon bunches of the plant taped on just about every inch of it.
He’s so struck by the sight that he’s honestly caught off guard when Castiel sneaks up on him, hands interlacing sweetly with Dean’s as he kisses him for the umpteenth time.
“Mistletoe,” Cas says warmly against Dean’s lips. Dean can hear the smile in his voice, feel the warmth of his love crackling between their palms, an absent reminder of the enormity of this endless, wonderful being Dean has fallen in love with. “I expect a kiss for each one.”
Dean laughs, cheeks flushed and stomach fluttering in the wake of his sheer adoration. “Merry Christmas, Cas.”