beefcakemish:

SPN Advent Calendar – Day 1

An advent calendar for you

It started the first of December the year after they got
together. At first Dean thought it was a dumb idea. An advent calendar. Who
even does those anymore? But then Cas presented him with a cardboard box,
covered in Christmas wrapping paper, with twenty-four numbered doors on it. On
top of the box was a card addressed to him, and Dean huffs out a laugh remembering
what was written inside, ‘Beer-y Christmas, Dean. Love, Castiel’. They had
exchanged the words several days before, on Thanksgiving night, and the
reminder that Cas loved him – of all people- was enough to make him forget
about how stupid advent calendars were supposed to be.

Now, four years, several homemade half-dilapidated cardboard
boxes, and terrible puns later, Dean gets more excited for the first of
December than he does for Christmas Day. Likely because, each year, Cas seems
to out-do the last one.

That first year was all different kinds of beer from across the
country, and even some specialty brews imported from overseas. Since then, they’ve
had ‘coupons’ for different dates, which had been Dean’s first attempt (and a
hilarious disaster), novelty socks, small tins of tea, and one very fun year,
where Cas had found little bottles of massage oil. That was a December they’ll
never forget.

Dean’s buzzing with excitement when Cas gets home from work
that night, and before Cas can even get his shoes off, he’s being ushered to
the couch and Dean’s placing the box in front of him. Pausing as he reaches to
open the first door, Cas turns to look at Dean sat next to him. He’s on the
edge of the cushion, hands clasped where they lay between his bouncing knees,
small grin on his face as he meets Cas’ eyes. Cas brings an open hand to Dean’s
jaw and guides him forward for a kiss before he opens the door and pulls out a
small container of amber liquid. Slightly confused, he reaches for the card,
hoping for an explanation, ‘Some honey, for my Honey. Love, Dean’.

Cas goes to retrieve Dean’s box from their office, and as he
does, Dean quickly checks door twenty four to calm his nerves. Thankfully the
little velvet box is still nestled inside, where he had set it three hours ago,
and he sighs in relief, as if it would get up and walk away on its own during
that time. He thinks he may have finally beaten Cas at his own game this year. Only
twenty three more days to go.

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