Summary: John's never had a Christmas before. Sam was looking at the crappy Christmas decorations in the lobby with some sort of contempt as they book their rooms. John listened to the usual check out is at eleven spiel with a smile on his face, as if he hadn’t spent the past year and a half moving from hotel to hotel and hearing the same exact words every time.
Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.
There was a half dead Christmas tree tilting dangerously by the stairs, it almost looked as if it would attack the next person to walk by. Fake presents were scattered around the room and a string of lights blinked on and off, not by design, more like faulty electricity. Sam would have happily glared at the horrible decorations longer if John hadn’t start pushing him towards them, and the stairs.
“What’s with the face?” John asked, ducking in to whisper in his ear.
“We picked the worst place to spend Christmas.” Sam said, a miserable tinge to his voice that he can’t get out. It probably won’t be the worst Christmas he’s ever had, the one right after his dad disappeared probably takes that cake. But it still won’t be good.
“Yeah?” John asked. “I’ve never celebrated it.” John started dragging their bags up the stairs and Sam scrambled to help him. “Henri never understood the holiday, we always ended up moving around this time of year, it’s the easiest time to disappear from sight without looking suspicious.”
“You’ve never? Henri never gave you presents? You don’t have a winter celebration wherever you’re from?”
John shrugged. “He didn’t like to talk about it much, he gave me presents sometimes.” John trailed off.
“Lemme guess, his presents weren’t so much presents as things you needed to learn to save the universe.” Sam said dryly, shaking his head and leaning against the door to their room as John unlocked it. He stumbled backwards when it unlocked with a beep and glared at John when he burst into laughter. “Ha fucking ha.”
He grabbed his bag and threw it on the bed, having learned that it was the best sort of policy to throw something else on the bed in the event of rats, bugs or bad bed springs. Nothing yelped or crawled out from the bed, and then he threw himself on it too while John did the same with the other bed.
“Home sweet home.” Sam muttered.
Bernie skittered out of John’s bag and morphed into a dog, which still gave Sam the shivers. Sam rolled over and grabbed the remote off the bed side table. “What do you wanna bet we don’t have cable.” He said, flicking the tv on and scrolling through the channels available.
“Not gonna take that bet.” John said, grabbing a few things out of his bag.
Sam snorted in laughter and sighed when he realized all that was on were some stupid Christmas specials. “If I have to watch Frosty the Snowman I think I’m going to kill someone.”
John looked up at the tv and frowned. “I’ve never seen it.”
“Oh see, now I have to make you sit through the torture that is all the Christmas movies ever.” Sam shook his head. “You watch it, I’ll go pick up Chinese from that place down the street.”
John looked entranced by the talking claymation figures, so Sam grabbed his wallet from his bag and disappeared.
By the time Sam got back, John was staring at the tv with his mouth open and his chin in his hands, with Bernie flopped out on his back. Sam shook his head and sat down beside him. John didn’t move so Sam just shoved him over until there was enough room. “What’s on now?”
“Something about a street.” John said, moving to sit up. It cut away from commercials and John missed his mouth as he was sucked back into the movie. Sam snorted, but instead of commenting just leaned back against the wall, watching the movie with a sort of detached amusement.
It was a week later when Sam realized the full extent of what he had done to John. Since the movie night in the hotel the truck had been nothing but Christmas music, and John had been humming the stupid jingles under his breath when they were out of it. Six had thrown him a weird look when she popped in, but Sam had just shaken his head in despair.
It wasn’t until John started getting secretive about things that Sam really thought he’d been bitten by the Christmas bug. “Dude, you know we have no money for presents right?”
John nodded. “Yeah, I know.” he said as his eyes flickered back to his bag. “No presents.”
Sam nodded, thinking it was taken care of.
Except Christmas morning he woke up early and groaned when he saw mistletoe hanging above his bed. “Johnnn.” he groaned, pushing himself up. John looked up from his bed with a wide grin.
“I just decorated!” John told him. “No presents!”
“Ahuh.” Sam said, and then jumped to his bed to tackle him.
John burst into laughter and rolled them over, pinning him to the bed. “You know better!”
Sam shrugged as well as he could with his arms pinned above him. “Yeah yeah, but I said no presents, and this is you being sneaky.” Sam froze when he looked up at John and saw that John had put mistletoe above his bed too.
“What?” John asked, a confused tilt to his head. He looked up at the mistletoe and down at Sam. “You’re not allergic are you? I asked the woman at the store for the best Christmas decorations and she practically threw these at me.”
Sam shook his head, his face growing red. “You’re telling me that you watched every movie you could get your hands on and you didn’t hear anything about mistletoe?”
John shook his head. “What? No, is it bad?”
“No, its just, when two people are under it they’re supposed to,” Sam coughed and shook his head. “Nevermind.”
“No.” John squeezed his wrists to remind him that he was still pinned. “C’mon tell me.”
“We’re supposed to kiss.” Sam said quietly.
“Oh.” John’s hands went lax for a second before he was squeezing so tight it almost hurt. Sam let out a small curse and John bit his lip. “Sorry.” he whispered.
“So are you gonna let me go now?”
“I thought we had to kiss?”
“Well then do it.” Sam scowled out.
John’s eyes grew large and ducked down to press a kiss to the corner of Sam’s mouth.
Sam’s breath caught and he tried to wriggle out from underneath John, but he wasn’t done. He pressed another kiss to his lips this time, lingering. When he pulled away John was breathing harshly. “Sam?”
Sam yanked his hands out of John’s grip and pulled him down for another kiss. John let out a small noise and Sam rolled them over so Sam was sitting on him.