You know how troubled your boyfriend’s childhood was, how far it was from any warmth a childhood should have. Because of that, he never had a traditional, happy Christmas. With that in mind, an idea of gift for him comes to your mind: matching flannel pajamas.

Until the 25th, today, you hid Dean’s gift(and Sam and Castiel’s) in an empty drawer in the bedroom you share with Dean. Before anyone wakes up, you quietly slips out of bed to not wake Dean up, and put on your own flannel pajamas. Then, taking all the wrapped gifts in your hands, you make your way to the bunker’s central room and put them neatly on the big table.

Just in time, Dean appears in a black t-shirt, black shorts and his grey robe, still half-asleep that he doesn’t even notice everything on the table.

“Happy Christmas,” you walk towards him with open arms, looping them around his neck to kiss him. Dean kisses you back immediately, arms wrapping around your waist. “Very Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, smirking. Then he pulls back slightly to take a look at your outfit. “You didn’t go to bed in those last night.”

After Sam and Cas opened their own presents and are now distracted, Dean opens his. He pulls the pajamas from the wrapping and, for a split second, the tough guy disappears. A real smile spreads across his face, followed by a quiet chuckle. “Matching pajamas?” he says, holding the fabric carefully.

“You like it?” you ask, grinning. And when he answers, his voice comes out rougher than usual. “It’s perfect. Really,” you know you boyfriend well enough to recognize that he felt special and loved with your gesture, even if he tries to hide it.

Dean steps forward and pulls you into a tight, protective hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His eyes turn glassy as he looks away, avoiding any chance of being caught like that.

He pulls back quickly, clears his throat, and slips back into that familiar teasing tone. “Just so you know, I’m only wearing this in our bedroom. I don’t trust Sam with a phone in hands.”