Work Text:
“Have a holly jolly Gadreel, he’s my best friend of the year. Playing in snow, kissing under mistletoe-”
“What the hell are you doing Y/N?”
“Hi Dean, I’m just writing a Christmas carol parody as a present for Gadreel.”
“Seriously? Do you even know how meter works? And why the hell would you do such a thing for the guy who ganked Kevin? What is wrong with you?”
“He apologized and is helping us against Metatron! He’s been so down since coming here after Kevin and it’s his first Christmas, so I thought this would be nice for him.”
Dean glared at you from across the table before exploding. “Of course, the asshat is down, he’s the angel the other angels warn each other about. He’s the dickwad who helped Lucifer get into the Garden of fucking Eden and then he turned around and helped that motherfucker Metadouche! And apologizing for Kevin ain’t going to bring the kid back!” Dean pushed his chair back and stomped off to the garage to work on Baby; Sam excused himself to his room earlier in anticipation of a fight. You and Dean did not see eye to eye when it came to the chiseled hunk of a fallen angel.
You looked glumly down at your poorly constructed lyrics, not noticing the angel in question carefully walking in and sitting in Dean’s now vacant chair. “Y/N, why do you look so sad? The voice in Castiel’s car says this is the most wonderful time of the year.”
You looked up to regard Gadreel and you probably looked more dejected than he, you certainly felt more dejected. You tried to reassure him and bolster the tatters of your Christmas spirit, “Oh Gad, it is the most wonderful time of the year. I was just trying to write something, but I did a very bad job of it. Don’t worry about it.” With that you crumpled the lyrics up and threw them in the direction of the trash, but missed, before heading to your room for the night.
As you sat on your bed you thought to yourself, “Why couldn’t Dean have picked any other day of the year to be an asshole? He’s going to have to accept that I have feelings for that diamond cutting jawlined, feathery reject.” A soft knock tore you from your silent complaints, “come on in,” you said as cheerfully as you could. As instructed, Gadreel walked into your room and sat next to you on your bed, the uncrumpled but very crinkled piece of paper in his hands.
“Why am I in this song? I can’t imagine humans have written about me except maybe to warn their children or something.”
“Oh, um, no they haven’t done anything of the sort. I wrote it…I, um, was trying to write a song for you for Christmas. It was going to be your present.”
“I see, what is this, mistletoe?”
“It’s a plant that hangs above doors so that when two people walk under it at the same time, they have to kiss.”
Gadreel furrowed his eyebrows, crumpled up the lyrics again and deposited them successfully in your waste bin before silently exiting your room. Horrified that you have just insulted the very person in the whole of the universe that you never wanted to harm; you took off after him to apologize. This is Christmas Eve; you were not going to have his first Christmas start off awry!
As you rounded a corner calling after him, you found yourself running headlong into him. You both lost your balance; Gadreel grabbed you with his left hand and pulled you upright, while he also grabbed the doorjamb with his right hand, stabilizing himself.
“Gad I’m so sorry! I should have-”
The fallen angel cut you off with a smile, the first smile from him you’ve ever seen. His eyes quickly darted up and then back down, your eyes also went up to see clutched in his hand, was a wad of mistletoe. As he leaned in for his kiss, he quietly muttered, “all I wanted for Christmas, was you and this is the perfect gift.”
Thank God Dean didn’t see it.