The Best Laid Plans for Getting Laid

"Stupid brothers and their stupid scissors."

Muttering under his breath as he made his way further into the dense woods that surrounded their cabin, Sam Winchester trudged through the snow with his head down and revenge on his mind.

Dean was a rock - he always chose rock - that's why Sam chose paper. Because if paper covers rock then that meant Dean would be the one to go out in the cold and gather the wood for the old stone fireplace. But no, Dean had chosen scissors, which cut his paper and therefore Sam was made to leave the warm confines of the first real building they had seen in weeks to go and forage for firewood. It sucked.

He had just gotten the damned cast off his arm, too.

Kicking at a clump of snow, Sam sighed and took a breath. The cold air stung his throat and made his eyes water but it also cleared his head. Enough to make him stop his green, headlong rush into an unknown forest and start paying attention at any rate. They may be up in the middle of nowhere, right on the border of the states with no one but moose and caribou for company but that didn't mean there wasn't anything else around. They were still demon hunters and stalking - ok sulking - off blindly into strange woods was still a Bad Idea.

Taking another breath of the frigid arctic air, this time Sam drew it in deep, relishing the cold bite as it burned down into his chest. Dean may be an asshole, but Sam had lost fair and square. Sam flipped off the cabin nestled in its clearing a few yards away, it's solid bulk a taunt and a promise. The sooner he collected a few armfuls of wood to add to the pile stacked on the sheltered porch, the sooner he could get back inside and get warm. It was Christmas Eve and though he wasn't sure if Dean had gotten him anything, there was a brightly wrapped package burning a hole in Sam's duffel bag. Between the hunting, the driving, the actual demons, and Dean suspecting something was up, keeping that little secret hidden had been a real bitch.

Walking more slowly now with one eye on the dark evergreens and the white, blanketing snow, the younger Winchester began the methodical stooping and gathering of deadfall.


As soon as Sam had left, one foot out the door and a 'fuck you, Dean' on his breath, Dean Winchester set his plans in motion.

"Not yet, little brother, but you will be."

Chuckling evilly to himself the older Winchester shook his head in mock reproach. Sammy was just so predictable. So yeah Dean had set him up, playing the same hand at Rock, Paper, Scissors for the past month or so - didn't mean the freak had to fall for it, now did it? But what Sammy hadn't caught on to worked right into Dean's plans so who was he to argue?

This little cabin was a real beauty. Thick rough wood planks, rustic feel with all the comforts of the latest modern conveniences, including authentic stone built fireplace, Jacuzzi tub and thick down blankets just made for curling up in on a long winter's night. Ok so there was also a fully stocked, ultra modern kitchen, wet bar and 30" flat screen tv…Dean figured he would be using that last one after he had worn his brother out. He really would have to send Gideon a thank you note.

Snickering out the window at Sam giving him the finger from just inside the thick stand of evergreens that surrounded their little cabin on three sides - the last side showing an awesome view of the mountain ranges sloping off into the east - Dean rummaged in his duffel for the candles he had managed to hide away. Well, those and one very special little item.

Between the hunting, the driving, the actual demons, and Sam suspecting something was up, keeping that little secret hidden had been a real bitch. Sometimes that boy was just too damned nosy for Dean's own good.

Candles lit and placed around the rustic living room made it cozy in the fading light and Dean made sure the fire in the hearth was well made and set to last for at least an hour or two. Didn't want to endure frozen asses or have to get up during to stoke that particular fire. Because if Dean had his way Sammy was going to be too busy stoking something else...

Cackling evilly at his own sense of humor, Dean heard Sam returning and quickly got undressed. Arranging himself on the bearskin rug in full view of the door, Dean took a moment to relish the soft feel of the dark fur on his hip and legs, basking in the heat of the fire behind him. Dean suddenly realized that Sam would be freezing from his jaunt outside and moaned softly in anticipation of the first contact of their bodies - hot and cold skin clasping and sliding together.

Footsteps stomping heavily on the porch now and, making sure all of their supplies were set within easy reach, Dean reached around for that last thing as he propped himself up on one elbow.

Facing the door, wearing nothing but a smile, Dean smirked at the cursing coming loud enough from his brother that he heard it from inside. Then the door opened and Dean was smirking for another reason at the dumbstruck look on little Sammy's face as Sam stopped just inside the doorway, the first thing he sees being Dean butt naked on a bearskin rug, the fire behind him casting a golden glow over his body as the snow kicked up again outside.

Holding a freshly plucked sprig of mistletoe over his head.

"Merry Christmas, Sam," Dean smirked. "Now get in here and close the door. I'm freezing my ass off over here..."