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Yes Dean, There Is A Santa Claus

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Sam swung the apartment door open and paused as he sniffed the air. It wasn't too bad. At least the previous resident hadn't smoked and having it furnished was always a plus. It would be like living in an actual home.

What had caught Sam’s attention while he was perusing the internet was that there had been five incidents within two weeks in the same building, an apartment building with twenty units, families mostly because of the size and layout.

It had begun with trashed holiday decorations, living rooms that looked as though they'd been vandalized, but it had escalated. There had been a beat-down, and finally a grisly murder scene. The police were guarded and it had taken Sam a very long time to figure out the details.

A murdered father in a Santa suit. Blood was splattered for feet in every direction, the crime scene photos were kind of like bizarre drawings from some crazy holiday graphic novel.

Sam tilted his head when he heard the clunk of the Impala's trunk closing. Squaring his shoulders he steeled himself for round two of their argument about what was going on at the apartment building.

Shouldering his way into the apartment, Dean looked around slowly then huffed, dropping his bag to the side. "So what now? Gonna bust out the box of tinsel and mistletoe?"

He couldn't believe they were actually here and doing this. Dean was fairly certain Sam was fucking with him and this was going to turn out to be some stupid prank. "We're going to the store and we're gonna get a Christmas tree and decorations. We're gonna decorate it and see what happens."

Sam sank down onto the couch and shifted around slightly testing out how comfortable it was. It wasn't too bad.

"Can we get eggnog and sugar cookies too Sammy? Can we please?" Dean clapped his hands together and bounced across the apartment, putting as much sarcasm and annoyance into the question as he could manage. He dropped onto the couch beside his brother and stared at the TV across from him. "Cable?"

"Not unless you call and convince them to come out and hook it up a couple weeks before Christmas, dude." Sam stared at the blank TV screen. The fact that Dean might just have to find another way to entertain himself was kind of amusing.

"Guess you're stuck with just me and the case to entertain you." Grinning, he leaned back against the couch; legs sprawled out in front of him. It was nice to have some space for once.

"Right. So, besides death by boredom, what else do you have planned for this thing?" Dean would likely make it one, two days maximum before he went bat shit insane from the lack of anything to do. If he didn't kill his brother by the end of this case it'd be a god damn Christmas miracle.

"It's a case, Dean. We work it. There are people to talk to, an entire apartment building to check out. This thing is killing people - person. Can you imagine finding a murdered Santa Claus in your living room?" Sam raised his eyebrows and glared at his brother.

"I don't fucking have a living room. Until now. Because your bright idea is to get an apartment and decorate for Christmas when you know I hate this holiday." Dean stood and headed for the kitchen, opening each cupboard and frowning at the lack of food. "For the record? I'm doing the grocery shopping. Not gonna be stuck here and eat your pussy ass food the whole time."

Sam couldn't help laughing. "You're kind of bitchy. You not feeling the Christmas spirit, Deany?" Smirking, Sam shrugged out of his jacket and stretched himself along the couch. He fit, it was a fucking Christmas miracle.

Grabbing a plastic cup left over in the sink, Dean chucked it at his brother before pulling open the fridge. His version of a Christmas miracle came in the form of two bottles of beer left in the fridge along with a thing of mustard, ketchup and A1 steak sauce. "Thank God Almighty," Dean grumbled and grabbed both of the beers, bumping the fridge closed with his hip before crossing to the living room once more.

"Did you check out the bedroom?" He asked as he held one of the beers out to Sam. "Do you approve of the curtain colors Sammy?"

"I haven't moved from the couch since I got in here, and I'm not movin' for a while." He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at the beer. "How do you know that beer wasn't left in there by some dead guy - or worse - by the evil Santa killer? It might be poisoned." He eyed the beer suspiciously as he took it.

"It's fucking sealed bitch, and it's free, but if you don't want it," Dean shrugged, perfectly content to take both beers if his brother had an issue with it. He opened his own and dropped down in the chair, kicking his legs up on the coffee table.

"Why the fuck would the Santa killer leave beer in the fridge?" Sam rolled his eyes and twisted his beer open. "Are you gonna take this case seriously or am I gonna have to kick your ass?" Eyebrow cocked, Sam peered at his brother over the mouth of the bottle.

Nearly choking on his beer with a laugh, Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Like you fucking could. Tell you what Sammy loo hoo, you show me the Grinch and I'll take this case seriously." This was the most ridiculous case they'd ever been on, Sam was insane if he thought Dean would take it seriously.

"You know," Sam sat up a little. "There really could be something like a Grinch. You can't seriously have forgotten our last Christmas case. I still can't smell ginger snaps without feeling weird. Anyway, what about the idea of giving coal to people who were bad? Where do you think that came from? And what about the idea of some old guy watching you all the time to see if you'd been bad or good. Creepy, Dean."

"Sam, as far as I know the Grinch is fucking Jim Carry in green make up with bad puns and a bad sense of humor. Have you really found information about this thing? Do you even know how to kill it?" Dean eyed his brother for a long moment then scoffed. "So we're gonna deck the halls and invite the thing here then be screwed when it shows up to mutilate us."

"You know, you're not normally this annoying about cases. What's up your ass?" Sam took a swig of his beer and toed out of his boots. He smirked when Dean frowned as they hit the floor by his feet.

Dean wasn't about to sit here and have a heart to heart with his brother about why he had no desire to do anything close to celebrating Christmas with him. "Nothing," he grunted then stood, draining his beer and setting the bottle on the table. "I'm going to get groceries, I'm fuckin' hungry. See you later."

Sam reached out quickly and snagged Dean's hand as he was walking past. "You want me to go with ya?" His thumb rubbed at the sensitive skin at Dean's wrist, right over the veins that Sam always teased were shaped like an S.

Looking down at his brother, Dean watched him for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah alright, we can hit up the Wal-Mart and get your Christmas balls." Dean smirked at Sam for a moment but didn't step away.

As Sam swung his legs down from the couch they landed on either side of Dean's. Tipping his head back, Sam gazed up as his fingers tucked under the hem of Dean's shirt to slide up the cut of muscles across his belly.

"Only one set of balls I want anything to do with."

Dean was torn between rolling his eyes and stepping between Sam's spread legs, such was the norm for his life. "That's a classy line, bet you get all the boys with those zingers."

Dean laughed, softer and deeper than before. Sam's fingers were just the right side of calloused and warm on his stomach and Dean pressed his lips together as he stared down at his brother.

"I'm a pretty classy guy," Sam said. He shoved at his brother's t-shirt a little harder and pressed his lips to the warm skin just above Dean's belt. He could smell the leather, the musky sweat of Dean's skin. A sigh escaped Sam's lips and he smiled.

"Guess that means we're not rushing to the grocery store," Dean tried not to moan through the words and his hand slid back through Sam's hair, keeping him there. He could maybe get over being dragged into this case if Sam made it up to him.

"It's been a few days. C'mon, can't the groceries wait?" There was a familiar feeling scratching away deep inside Sam and he dragged his tongue along his brother's waist band before popping the button on his jeans open. Nosing into the split denim, Sam sucked hard on the flesh there and slid his arms around his brother's hips.

Eyes closing, Dean curled his fingers in Sam's hair and inhaled slowly. "Yeah, they can wait," he said softly and stepped closer to Sam, his legs widening until they pressed against Sam's. "I'd say you owe me for dragging me here anyway."

Sam pulled back slightly to smirk up at his brother when a deep laugh rumbled in his chest. "Guess you'd better make me pay then."

There was a glint in Dean's eyes that made Sam's cock twitch uncomfortably in his jeans. His brother loved teasing him like this, standing there like he didn't want it nearly as much as Sam did.

Before Dean could answer Sam slipped his fingers into his brother's jeans, and tugged the front of his boxers down. Dean was already hard; his flesh was swollen and rigid and Sam just opened his mouth and sucked his brother down.

"Jesus, Sammy," Dean's hips automatically twitched up toward Sam, his hand in Sam's hair tightening and dragging nails over his scalp.
"Don't have to make you do anything," he mumbled and worked his hips forward, biting off the moan that was forming low in the pit of his stomach. "You're so eager to please me- fuck, Sam." Dean groaned as Sam took him all the way in.

Sam slid his tongue along the bottom of his brother's heavy cock. As full as his mouth felt he, somehow, managed to swallow the swollen flesh deeper. Moaning as he shuddered with pleasure, Sam shifted closer and curled his fingers around the base of Dean's cock. Sliding his wet mouth up and down slowly he matched the rhythm of his hand.

Losing the battle against moaning, Dean once more closed his eyes and rocked up into Sam's mouth, curling his free hand over his brother's shoulder. "Sam," he growled low in his throat and slid his hand down to the back of his brother's neck fingers digging in against the muscle. Whenever Sam was like this, so eager to please, Dean wanted to just shove him against the nearest flat surface and claim every inch of him.

Sam's hands shook as they pushed and pulled on his brother's jeans until he could dig his thumbs into that sweet spot in front of each hip bone. The press of his fingers into warm flesh pulled another moan from his brother's lips and Sam swallowed, sucked and lapped at the cock thrusting into his mouth.

The deeper Sam let him get the more Dean felt like he was going to lose his mind. It was always like this with his brother though, Sam knew all the right places to hit, knew exactly what to do to drive him crazy. Moan deepening, Dean swayed a little close. "Yeah, Sammy," he murmured, voice deep and thick as his fingers stroked encouragingly through Sam's hair.

The sound of Dean's voice made Sam's hips twist forward; his body craved the press and heat of his brother's skin. He'd been hooked since their first hesitant encounter so long ago when they were drunk. Sometimes, that first night came back to him so clearly when he tasted whisky on his brother's tongue.

Hollowing his cheeks, Sam relaxed his throat and swallowed around his brother's cock. He could feel the way Dean shuddered slightly with each swallow, fingers tightening to bruising on the back of Sam's neck.

A low growl was the only warning Dean gave his brother to the sudden slam of his release. His hips rocked forward, hard his cock sliding along Sam's tongue and making his knees give for just a moment. Sam's grip tightened on his hips though and Dean gripped his hair in his fist, rocking forward with each burst of his orgasm, Sam's mouth like a furnace constantly pressing down on him.

Sam loved the noises Dean made when he came. He was the only one who got to hear them now; another discussion that Sam remembered fondly. When he felt the first shot of hot release against the back of his throat he slid his hands forward and grabbed Dean's ass hard.

Each thrust sent a shiver down Sam's flesh. The slightly bitter taste of his brother filled his mouth and he swirled his tongue around the throbbing flesh - he did it just how Dean liked it then he pulled off and gasped for air.

"God," Dean groaned and stepped back, turning until he could drop onto the couch. He felt loose limbed and slightly dizzy in a way only ever brought on by Sam. There were more difficult things in his life to admit to then the fact that Dean was fairly certain no one would ever make him come quite like Sam did. Looking over at his brother, Dean rolled his eyes at the man's pleased smile.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Dean grunted, half-heartedly slapping his arm before snagging the sleeve and tugging him over to crush their lips together.

A deep groan curled up out of Sam's mouth into the kiss as he slid his tongue forward. The hoppy taste of the beer mixed with Dean's come and Sam sucked in a quick breath through his nose. His hand rubbed back and forth over Dean's stomach; he could still feel the way his brother's abs were rippling as the last of his pleasure twitched through his body.

Hands slightly fumbling, Dean tugged at Sam's waistline, working the button free and dragging the zipper down. Sam was rock hard, tenting his briefs out the moment Dean had the jeans free. He twisted them back and pinned Sam down on the couch. It was just barely big enough for them both to squeeze on it stretched out but they'd definitely done this in less comfortable places, like that one time behind the alley of some bar.

Fingers slipping under the elastic, Dean curled his fingers around Sam and stroked up, alternating between squeeze slides that he knew would drive Sam crazy. His tongue plunged repeatedly into his brother's mouth, thumb rolling hard and gliding over the drops of forming pre-come on Sam's cock.

There were about three seconds of clarity in Sam's mind before he moaned loud enough to be heard in the next apartment. If he were a betting man, he'd say they wouldn't be getting groceries any time soon.

Stretching his fingers out, Dean groaned at the sore muscles then snorted a laugh as he stepped out the door of the apartment. "Sam, being with you is gonna give me carpel tun-" Dean cut off sharp and his step faltered when he looked up and saw his brother standing next to the back of the Impala and talking to an older couple. Hoping they didn't get the suggestion behind his words, Dean pasted on his innocent pretty boy smile and stepped up to his brother. "What's up?"

"Hey, Dean." Sam widened his eyes slightly; he was always thankful that Dean could read him like a book. "This is Carol and Jason Nelson. They live up on the second floor. I was just asking them about the mood around here, the police tape in the garbage..." Smiling at the couple Sam waved his hand toward Dean. "This is my brother, Dean."

"Nice to meet you both." Dean nodded at them and smiled and prayed extra hard that they didn't get his implications regarding carpel tunnel considering the old couple knew they were brothers now. "Yeah I was wondering about the police tape myself."

"Well like we were just telling your brother," Carol began and her tone was the clichéd low whisper of someone with a secret. "There was a murder in there."

"Carol, these boys don't want to hear your gossip. Can't you see they're just moving in?" Jason frowned in disapproval, looking over his shoulders uncertainly.

"We don't mind," Dean insisted, knowing Sam had been struggling to get information and really, the quicker they took care of whatever this thing was, the quicker they could get back on the road. "Sammy's been a little concerned about the safety of this place." Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder, giving him a wide grin.

"It was sadder than the robberies." Carol sighed and shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "Young dad found in a Santa suit, he was murdered with no one even hearing him. Blood everywhere, I just have no idea how they're going to get that out of the carpet."

A little shocked, Sam ducked his head down quickly to hide his expression. Clearing his throat he glanced over at Dean

"Uh, well, yeah. Soda water maybe. Listen, do you know of any other weird things that have been going on?" Sam leaned closer, conspiratorially.

"I heard someone talking about trees and presents and stuff being trashed and someone being beat up. Do you know who that was?" Sam tried for a look somewhere between curious and respectful.

Dean thought it wouldn't look too good if they were both hanging on the woman's ever word so he walked around Sam and started picking at the bags of groceries, still convinced that Sam bought way too much. They would not be here that long.

Carol's voice was a quiet murmur that Dean could just barely hear. "You heard about Richard than, he's still in the hospital. Reckon he's lost his mind though, all the things he was saying. I took him a plate of cookies, you know we try and look out for each other around here, and he was going on and on about some sort of, creature. Thankfully our home has yet to be touched."

"Yeah well I try and lock up tight. You boys better watch yourselves, there's someone out there with a real grudge." Jason warned ominously, touching his wife's arm. "I'll meet you inside."

"Well, Carol - thanks so much for talkin' to me. And, if you need that door fixed up let me know and I'll come round for you. We're in 107." Sam flashed his best grin, dimples, crinkled eyes - the works. His brain was already filing away the hospital information; it was a good lead.

"Take care boys," Carol called out as she followed her husband inside, hollering at him to slow down.

Dean grabbed a handful of bags and stepped back, fixing his brother with a look. "We're so excellent at undercover work."

Sam stabbed a finger into the middle of Dean's chest a couple of times. "I got us a lead, didn't i?"

"You want an award bitch?" Dean's eyebrows rose, his lips twitching in a smirk before he shook his head. "Get the rest of the bags so we can go check out your lead."

Sam grabbed the bags and shut the card door. "So, she said think maybe that guy saw something? I really don't want another bad Christmas experience. I'm already traumatized."

"Yes, I know," Dean muttered and shook his head again. Nothing like being reminded exactly why he didn't want to go on this case in the first place. "We've done this a thousand times. That Richard guy probably saw something unbelievable, we'll figure out what it was, kill it, and get the hell out of here." Dean dropped the groceries on the counter and rolled his eyes as he pulled out a box of Christmas ornaments.

"What?" Sam grinned and set his bags down. "Check them out; they have Happy New Year on them. They were on sale." Sam prided himself on his ability to roll with the punches sometimes. Leaning his hip against the counter he smirked at Dean. "So. We go to the hospital and talk to this guy after you make us lunch then we come back here tonight and decorate the tree." Grinning Sam nodded in the direction of the off-kilter tree he had buried in a plant pot he'd dragged in front outside.

"I'm not decorating that piece of crap," Dean huffed as he pulled more food out of the bags and slid the items into the fridge. It was actually fairly full now and Dean couldn't help wondering how long exactly Sam was planning on them staying. "You really want to decorate it tonight and risk that thing coming here when we don't even know what it is?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder and looked back at his brother. "Well, we can see how it goes at the hospital. Hey Dean?"

Dean grabbed the bread and started pulling out pieces, remembering exactly how Sam took his ham and cheese sandwiches even if he hadn't made one for the boy since he was sixteen. When a few minutes passed without Sam saying anything, Dean looked back at him. "You waitin' for an invitation Princess? What do you want?"

"Do you really hate Christmas that much? I mean, I know the last one sucked but there must been some good ones right?" Sam didn't have any memories of good Christmases from when they were young. All he remembered, really, was Dean being there and making him smile no matter what. That wasn't really Christmas-related though; no matter what they were doing when they were growing up Dean had always tried to make the best of it for Sam.

Sighing, Dean turned back to the sandwiches and continued putting them together, not entirely certain how to answer. He wasn't really in the mood for any type of heart to heart with Sam but he knew how it went, avoiding the subject would only get him so far. "I don't hate Christmas. If you remember, the last one we actually attempted to celebrate it was you who put up the fight." Even when things had been bad for them as kids, Dean had always loved the holiday, but now there was a bitter after taste to the entire season.

Sam nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess, it's just not having family around so much. And you - you know - you were always the one carrying all the weight for the family. For him." When Sam glanced over at his brother he saw the man's shoulders stiffen and knew where the conversation would head if he wasn't careful. "Anyway," he said quickly, "starting over, yeah? Just you and me? We'll solve the case, get some eggnog or something gross like that and just take a few days off?"

"I'm not drinking eggnog unless it's ninety percent alcohol," Dean pointed out, slapping the pieces of bread and meat together and placing Sam's on a plate. He turned and held it out to Sam, watching his brother for a long moment. "We gonna exchange presents?" He asked flatly, not hinting whether he wanted that or not.

As his finger curled over the edge of the plate Sam tried not to let his spark of curiosity show on his face. They hadn't exchanged real presents in a long time; other than porn mags and oil. "We could, I mean. Yeah. Sure. Why not?"

"Real presents? Not gas station garbage?" Dean turned to get his own sandwich, smirking down at the food. It was pretty amusing to think about his brother trying to pick out a gift for him. Then he thought about what he might get Sam and the smirk disappeared. What the hell would he get Sam?

Sam nodded and took a huge bite out of his sandwich. While he was chewing he went back in his mind through the presents he'd given Dean over the years. Motor oil and granola bars were useful if slightly impersonal. He had gifted his brother with a furry steering wheel cover once, and apart from the laughter over rude jokes about rubbing his body against the furry thing, yeah, no. One birthday, Sam had given Dean a t-shirt with Metallica emblazoned on it; he'd worn it until he staked a vampire and got blood all over it. It could be a more difficult challenge to find his brother a gift than any they'd faced as hunters.

Nervous smile on his lips, Sam nodded. "Real presents."

Dean knew he wasn't the one laying out the ground rules for this game; Sam was completely in control here. So his brother had chosen real presents and Dean had to take that as his way of saying they really were starting over, trying to do this Christmas thing right. "Yeah okay." He nodded after a while then cleared his throat, turning to get some sodas from the fridge. "Gotta take care of your Grinch first though. You thinkin' Feds to talk to Richard? Or we gonna try reporters?" Dean was, after all, trying to let his brother take complete lead on this still ridiculous case.

"Feds." Sam looked out the window. It was almost a family building; the guy was much more likely to respond to authority figures. Half-eaten sandwich on the plate, Sam set it back on the counter.

"Dean? You wanna know what I wished for the last Christmas I believe in Santa Claus?" Sam cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"Sam," Dean sighed, leaning against the counter and setting his own sandwich down. Sometimes it really sucked to dredge through their past. Meeting his brother's gaze, Dean caved to the same look he'd been caving to his own life. "What?"

When Dean's expression softened Sam leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his brother's cheek. "You. I wrote a letter asking Santa if I could always have my big brother to take care of me." Straightening up, Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder and he passed him. "I'll get the suits out."

Dean took a moment to let Sam's words sink in, trying to calculate when he thought Sam stopped believing in Santa and what it meant for his brother to wish for him of all things. Then his chest was tightening in that weird way it did some times when Sam was involved and he scoffed and trailed after his brother to the bedroom. "Leave it to you to be the cheesiest sap on the planet. You sure you didn't ask for Barbie or something?" He smacked Sam's ass as he crossed the room, pausing only long enough to tug off his shirt.

Laughing softly, Sam shook his head. Even though Dean made light of it, Sam knew that things like that meant something to his brother. Unzipping the garment bag he'd brought in earlier Sam pulled out both suits. "No barbies, Jerk."

"Yeah whatever bitch, I know you had a secret stash somewhere," Dean smirked and shoved his pants off, trying not to think too much about how domestic this whole thing was. "Sam?"

Halfway through tugging off his jeans Sam swayed dangerously. While trying to keep his balance on one foot, he glanced up at his brother through the hair that had fallen in his face. "Yup?"

Dean's mouth opened, the words forming on his tongue then falling away. "Can we get a big turkey for Christmas dinner? The kind where we'll have a shit load of leftovers and be eating them for days afterward?"

Something that felt a hell of a lot like sadness curled around Sam's heart and squeezed it tight. Dean never asked for anything. As his smile faded slightly, Sam nodded and kicked of his jeans. Careful to keep his voice casual, Sam spoke softly. "Yeah. Sure. We've got an oven, might as well use it."

"Do you even know how to cook a turkey?" Dean looked over at Sam then laughed as he watched his brother hop into dress pants. "Who am I kidding? You can't even get dressed right. I'll cook the turkey. I'll probably have to carve it too. You can mash potatoes." Dean wasn't looking forward to taking the traditional man of the house role, nope, not at all.

Dropping down onto the edge of the bed Sam pulled his pants most of the way up and yanked his t-shirt off so he could throw it at Dean. "I bet you a fifty you can't cook a turkey, dude."

"Shouldn't make those kinds of bets Sammy, we already know I'll win." Dean stepped easily into his suit pants and reached out to grab the dress shirt from the bed beside Sam. "And if I don't, then we're going hungry Christmas."

Sam smirked as he stood again and buttoned his pants. Swinging the shirt over his shoulders he slid his arms in and smiled over at his brother. "Well, either way it'll be great. You fail miserably and I get enough money to buy a nice dinner. You cook a great turkey and I get to eat a great dinner." The grin on Sam's face widened. He could see that Dean was bristling slightly at the suggestion that he might fail. Both brothers knew that Dean was the one with the cooking skill.

"You're a bitch, maybe I'll just go get some other guy to cook turkey for," Dean grumbled and fixed his tie in place, reaching out for his suit coat next. "I'm sure any other guy would be bowing at my feet, praising my amazing abilities."

"Was at your feet just a few hours ago." Sam's expression darkened slightly, and he licked his lips. Maybe he wasn't praising Dean's abilities but with as good as Dean always looked in his suit Sam could predict a lot of praising later in the evening.

Dean paused for a moment then laughed, shaking his head. "Damn I brought you up right Sam; you can almost hold your own." He turned to Sam and held his hands out as his sides. "Well, I'm ready; let's get this the hell over with."

Yanking on his tie, Sam headed for the door then spun to pick up his jacket. "Ready," he muttered.

"Richard? Richard Mulligan?" Sam strode into the hospital room and couldn't help wincing slightly when he saw the bandages covering the side of the patent's face.

The man in the bed started and shied away slightly before squinting his uncovered eye and staring up at Sam. "Yeah?"

"Agents Amato and Doughty, FBI. Can we ask you a few questions?" Sam held up his fake I.D. and watched at Richard squinted at it.

At the man's faint nod Dean cleared his throat and flipped his badge closed. "We've been looking into the attacks and robberies that have happened in your complex, from the report we read you said you saw some... creature?"

Richard shifted slightly on the bed and it creaked under his weight. "I... the FBI looks into shit like that? No one here believed me." Reaching up with his good hand, he tugged at the strap that held his sling in place.

Sam paced slowly around the bed to see if he could get a look at the names on the Get well cards. "Mulder and Scully were FBI."

"What?" Richard's head turned too quickly and he grimaced.

"FBI humor. It was the murder that really brought us here, especially when we learned there were burglaries and your attack as well. We think the person, or, whatever, might not stop doing this until we catch them. So anything you can tell us would be very helpful," Dean patiently explained, glancing over at his brother and rolling his lips together to keep from smirking.

Richard dragged his gaze from Sam and looked up at Dean. "It's hard to explain, it was like - so fast and there was wrapping everywhere-"

"Wrapping? Like Christmas wrapping?" When Dean scowled at him Sam added, "Just curious."

"Yeah. Listen, I know I probably sound crazy but it was kind of like being attacked by a freakin' tornado or something. Ornaments and wrapping papers and ribbons..." Richard's eyes glazed over slightly.

Lifting his eyes to his brother's Sam shrugged.

"A tornado?" Dean repeated slowly, nodding like he wasn't thinking the guy was insane. "Did the tornado uh, say, anything?"

"Are you two for real?" Richard's fingers started to slide subtly toward the nurse's buzzer.

Sam shifted quickly and unplugged it from the wall outlet with his foot. Lowering his voice he leaned in closer to Richard. "We're from a special department of the FBI. We investigate unexplained phenomena. This sounds pretty unexplained."

Richard turned slowly and then pulled back a little when he realized how close Sam was. "Yeah."

"So, it was a whirlwind kind of thing. You hear any voices? Sounds? Was there a temperature change of any kind?"

Blinking his uncovered eye a few times, Richard glanced back over at Dean. "Okay, I might have heard something, someone, God. This makes me sound insane. It sounded like someone was yelling at me, swearing."

"Were they yelling at you? Or were they just yelling?" Dean stepped closer but mostly kept his distance, letting Sam be the one in the guy's face for now. It was a bad time to think it but Sam was kind of really hot when he took charge like that. The guy just kept looking at him and Dean fought against an eye roll. "Did it know your name? Or refer to you in some way? Or was it just yelling?"

"It said ... it kept saying it hated Christmas," Richard said in a whisper.

"What?" Sam's eyes widened. It really was the Grinch. Biting down on his bottom lip he looked everywhere but at his brother's face.

"Yeah, yeah. I know it's funny. It was shitting all over Christmas. Hate Christmas, Fuck Santa and stuff like that." Richard sighed and sank back into the pile of pillows behind him.

Sam blinked twice, straightened and turned to face the window. He had to bite down really hard on his tongue to stop the laughter that was welling.
If Dean looked over at Sam he was going to lose control and either really piss off Richard or completely dash his spirits. Not to mention blowing their cover.

"Alright," Dean said quietly and nodded. "We are going to do everything we can to make the tornado like Christmas again." Dean lifted a hand and coughed into his palm, wishing only fleetingly that he could pull the words back.

Richard's eye narrowed suspiciously and he pulled his blanket up higher on his chest. "I'm tired. Are you done?"

"I'm done," Sam managed to get out. Before he blew everything he darted for the door and headed down the hallway. In the distance he could hear Dean saying something, probably good-bye then the steady sound of his brother's footfalls.

The moment they burst out of the hospital Dean was laughing, collapsing against his brother's side. "Jesus Christ that can't be real," he said between deep breaths, his mind finally supplying the mental image of a tornado of Christmas wrapping, ornaments and decorations yelling fuck Santa. "Was he on something?"

Barely able to breathe Sam nodded. He'd never heard anything that was more frightening and hilarious at the same time. While part of Sam's brain was trying to remind himself that a man had been murdered another part of his brain couldn't get past the image of attacking Christmas wrapping.

"Shit," Dean steadied them both before they could slip on a patch of ice on the sidewalk then shook his head. "Where do we even begin researching this thing? The Wal-Mart Christmas section?"

Laughing again, Sam shoved hard at Dean's shoulder. "One thing..." he gasped in some much-needed oxygen. "You were right about the Grinch. You're not right a lot, you should be happy."

"Oh shut the fuck up." Dean elbowed Sam but he was still grinning. The smile faded slightly when he thought about their time in the hospital room. Turning, Dean pinned Sam against the car and tugged on his tie, slipping it between his fingers. "You got pretty intense in there, before things got crazy."

The tone of Dean's voice was entirely to blame for that way heat rushed through Sam's body. Before he could speak he had to clear his throat. "I...was uh. I was bad cop."

Dean laughed softly and nodded, smirking up at the flush on his brother's cheeks. "It was hot. Didn't think you had it in you to be bad cop."

Sam couldn't help the way his hips pressed forward, the way his body arched off the car slightly. He barely resisted making a crack about being bad. "Thought you liked me on my knees, beggin'."

"Nothing wrong with shakin' up the routine." Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to the edge of Sam's ear, flicking his tongue over the curved flesh. "You sayin' you don't want me on my knees, beggin' for once?"

Lost somewhere between the sensation of Dean's moist breath and the image of his brother on his knees - Sam felt his legs weaken slightly. "I'll take you any way I can get you."

"Yeah but how do you want me?" Dean knew they were in the parking lot, somewhat secluded but still easily visible. Still he slipped his hand between their bodies and cupped Sam's hardening cock, rubbing with his palm. "You wanna fuck my mouth? I'll let you be bad cop with me." He laughed breathy against Sam's ear, sucking just under the lobe a moment later.

Sam's knees went weak and useless for a few moments and he slid down the side of the car a little. His hand curled hard into the front of Dean's shirt, body lying back against the cool metal of the car's fender. "Yeah, I- yeah."

"I thought so," Dean murmured and kissed his way along Sam's neck. His palm rubbed a little harder over Sam's crotch and he nipped at his brother's skin. "So, should we go home then? Or you wanna hit up the library?"

Sam couldn't help the slight upward curl to his lips at the word home. He nodded again and arched his back off the car, pressing hard into Dean's hand for a few delicious moments. "Home," he rasped softly.

"The apartment," Dean murmured, frowning for just a moment at the way Sam moaned out home. "Come on," he stepped back and turned, grabbing the driver's side door and tugging it open. Whatever, he could deal with calling it home. For now.

Not knowing quite where to start, Sam stood in front of the lop-sided Christmas tree and stared. He scratched his head then leaned forward and turned the pot slightly so the tree was leaning back against the wall. Satisfied that it would not come crashing down he picked up a box of ornaments and flipped the lid off.

They were just plain tree balls, dark blue and shiny. Laying the box on the table he picked up a couple of ornaments and space them carefully on the tree.
Oddly enough, the light from the overhead lamp was making the ornaments sparkle and it made Sam grin. Might as well get into the Christmas spirit while they were actually staying somewhere for more than one night. He hung another two ornaments and then frowned slightly and leaned down to adjust he tree again.

Seeing Sam hanging ornaments from the tree made Dean stop and stare. He'd just finished cleaning up the kitchen and was intending to bitch at his brother about how unfair it was to cook the dinner and do the dishes, when his eyes caught sight of the man. They didn't really do trees as kids, and the few times they did they had made ornaments out of paper cut into snowflake shapes. This was different, very different.

Dean was moving before he really thought about it and he pressed up against Sam's back, sliding his arms around Sam’s middle. There wasn't really much to say, Dean wasn't the type to get all emotional or whatever, but the entire thing was making him think. Did Sam miss having something like this? Did he want this? "Sam," Dean whispered, brushing Sam's hair to the side so his lips could press to the back of his brother's neck.

Without even thinking, Sam took a deep breath and leaned back against his brother's firm chest. He smiled and hung another ornament on the tree. "Mmhm?"

Dean wanted to laugh at himself, at the way he swayed them slightly back and forth. He knew that struggling with words that should be simple meant something about his person but he wasn't willing to give it too much thought. "Did you have this with Jess?" He asked quietly, though it wasn't really what he wanted to know.

"Have... what? Trees and stuff? Nah. Never did. Didn't seem right 'cause, well, didn't seem right." Sam's arms folded over Dean's and he sighed happily. He loved these moments when Dean was gentle and sweet, let his guard down a little.

"No?" Dean wondered what didn't seem right about it but he was pretty sure he had a good idea. It wouldn't have ever felt right if he'd celebrated Christmas without Sam either, no matter how small their celebrations might be. "You like this?" It was half a question, half a statement, because he could practically feel Sam glowing in his arms.

"With you? Yeah," Sam answered quietly. "My only good Holidays were with you - even when we did really stupid shit." Laughing softly, Sam held on a little tighter, hoping to keep Dean there a little longer. "Maybe sometimes - we could stop for a few days someplace. Long enough to unpack a bag and make a real dinner." Letting his head fall back he turned to kiss his brother's cheek.

Ever since this thing with Sam started Dean had been bouncing between over protective and uncertain. Sometimes he thought they should just end it, that it was fucked up and would only make things worse later. Other times he wanted to stop hunting, because with Sam as his lover and his brother it was hard not to demand he sit out of the fights to be safe. Dean wasn't used to caring about anything this much. "Yeah, maybe sometimes," he said quietly, closing his eyes against the pressing thoughts.

"You like it? Even a little?" Sam swayed with Dean, closing his eyes and soaking up the warmth of his brother's body.

"God Sam, I'm not heartless." Dean huffed and squeezed Sam against his body. "It's not like I don't care." Dean pressed his lips back to Sam's neck because sometimes it was easier to go along with the physical things.

"I didn't mean that." Sam felt the moment slipping away from him and frowned. "I just know. You had it different from me. God." Sam turned slowly in his brother's arms and draped his arms over Dean's shoulders. "I like it, I can't help it. Call me whatever you want. I like the idea of having Christmas with you." Smiling, he ducked down and caught Dean's mouth in a quick kiss.

Dean liked it more than a little but he just chased Sam's lips instead of telling him. His brother would figure it out, no one knew him like Sam did. His fingers pressed against Sam's scalp and held him in the kiss for several long minutes. When he pulled back he smiled at his brother with none of the sarcasm and snark he usually put into the gesture. "I like it Sam." he murmured, shaking his head slightly.

Sam's smile grew into a full on grin and he leaned away from his brother to snag an ornament with his finger. "Here, hang it."

Moment gone, Dean rolled his eyes and snorted a laugh. "I don't like it that much." But he took the ornament from Sam and placed it on the tree, not caring if it was too close to the others or whatever.

Laughing, Sam shoved at Dean with his hip and picked up a bag of tinsel. No matter what Dean said now he couldn't take away the warmth that had wrapped itself around Sam's heart. "Whatever, Dude. You'll be in the spirit again later when I put presents under the tree."

"I'm not five Sam, presents don't get me all riled up." Though Dean had to admit he was kind of looking forward to that. He needed to make a trip to the mall or something, as soon as he figured out what Sam would want.

Grabbing a handful of the tinsel, Dean reached out to drop it on the tree then changed his mind and stretched out, tossing the silvery stands over his brother's head.

Frowning over his smile, Sam reached down and picked up a couple of the candy canes he had talked his way into. The Elf at the store was hitting on him and she seemed more than happy to give him candy canes even if Sam did have to get rid of her phone number. Standing back like he was perusing a work of art, Sam flipped the tinsel back like long hair then hooked one candy cane over the collar of Dean's shirt and the other over the front pocket on his jeans. "Perfect," he said and then burst out laughing.

"You're hilarious," Dean said flatly and rolled his eyes once more. He did that so often with Sam it was a miracle he hadn't done permanent damage. Dean pulled the candy canes off and tried to toss everything back onto the tree. He stared for a moment before looking at Sam and frowning. "We didn't get lights. Think the Grinch will come if we don't have them?"

"I could go get some," Sam said far too quickly. He'd been thinking about lights but wondered if it would push Dean over the edge. "I mean, you know, not that I thought about lights. But now that you mention it." Pressing his lips together Sam fiddled with another ornament.

"Yeah okay. You go get some; I'll stay here with my shot gun. Though I don’t think it'll affect tornados." Dean shrugged and turned to head back into the kitchen, remembering a moment later their lack of cable. "Fuck, no TV."

"I could get a zombie movie or something - oh - Black Christmas and we could watch it on the laptop. While we wait for the Grinch," Sam added as an afterthought. He wondered if Dean found it amusing that they had just settled into referring to their target as Grinch.

"Okay, get the original if you can find it. If not I'll deal with the remake. Though the incest in it grosses me out." Dean somehow managed to keep a straight face as he spoke which he thought was kind of a miracle really. "Get some chocolate too."

"Jackass." But the smile on Sam's face wasn't fading as he looked around for his jacket. Patting his pocket he checked for his wallet and picked up the car keys off the table. "Don't get in trouble while I'm gone."

"If the Grinch comes while you're gone I'll try and get some pictures," Dean called over his shoulder as he slumped down onto the couch. He hoped the Grinch didn't come because he had no idea how to kill it. "Bye Sammy!" He added a moment later, laughing softly, "Don't give all our money to the bell ringers."

Grinning, Sam headed out.