Archive of Our Own

Like most people, Jared had certain preconceptions about vampires.

These preconceptions fell into roughly three categories.

Firstly there were the brooding vampires, who liked to spend time sitting in the dark and thinking about how hard their lives were.

Then there were the psychotic vampires, who had obviously decided that, since they were dead, they should be as batshit insane as possible to compensate.

Finally there the swoopy vampires. They had capes and mostly just ambled around being swoopy.

Of course, the most important preconception was that vampires were fictional. However, since Jensen handily demolished that one just by existing, Jared thought it would've been nice if Jensen could've at least let him keep his other vampire-related beliefs in tact.

Unfortunately, Jensen was not brooding or psychotic or swoopy.

The only thing he sat in the dark thinking about was the number of sweater-vests it was acceptable for a grown vampire to own, and the only time he ever edged towards psychosis was his mistaken belief that Captain America was hotter than Iron Man.

He had also given swoopyness a shot early on in the relationship but Jared had freaked out at being leapt on in the dark and had accidentally smacked him on the nose with a shoe, thus bringing Jensen's swooping career to an abrupt end.

Over the months they'd been together, Jared's beliefs about vampires had therefore developed considerably. He still wasn't completely sure which aspects were vampire-related and which were unique to Jensen but by the time December rolled around, he'd grown comfortable with most of Jensen's quirks.

The advent calendars were new though.

Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep, Jared prodded the glittery calendar in confusion.

Sadly it didn't produce any coffee.

"Open it."

Jared jumped at the voice and looked around to see Jensen sipping his own caffeinated blood in his favorite spot on top of the refrigerator. (Living with Jensen was a lot like living with a large, unruly cat, except Jensen was probably about seventy percent less graceful.)

"What am I opening?" Jared said, still blinded by the glitter. "Why is this in the house?"

"Because it's December," Jensen said. "Christmas is in twenty-five days."

This was said meaningfully, as though Christmas had some extra significance Jared wasn't aware of. Still mildly traumatized by the explanation of the vampire celebration which happened to coincide with Labor Day, Jared decided it was too early to push for details and instead turned his attention back to the advent calendar.

"You know I'm not six, right?" he asked. "Adults don't really do the whole countdown thing."

Jensen's smile faded. "But I'm 308," he said. "I still like advent calendars."

He pointed to where his own was resting on the counter. Whereas Jared's was clearly store-bought and filled with chocolate, Jensen's was a homemade one with some kind of blood-candy stuffed in all the pockets. If there was anything Jensen liked more than blood, it was Jared, and if there was anything he liked more than Jared, it was baking.

"I can get rid of them if you want," Jensen said, dangling his feet in Jared's face when he went to get milk from the fridge. "We don't need to-"

"No, it's fine," Jared said, too tired to crush Jensen's bizarre enthusiasm for advent calendars. "I'm not gonna turn down free sugar every day."

Jensen beamed as he jumped down off the fridge and darted over to give Jared a kiss on the lips. He tasted of coffee more than blood and Jared gave his ass a sleepy grope as Jensen pressed himself up against him.

If it got him enthusiastic kisses at the start of every day, Jared could definitely learn to love his advent calendar.

Aside from the blip with the advent calendars, everything seemed normal for the next few days. (Well, as normal as the relationship between a vampire and a vet could get.)

They ate breakfast at sunset, went to work as usual, and then hung out together watching movies, eating dinner and playing video games. As always, Jared maintained that the Transformers movies were underrated while Jensen's relationship with Castlevania remained as perplexing as ever.

Overall, their routine didn't change and so when Jared came home one morning to find that his ceiling had been replaced by a mass of colored paper, he was understandably confused.

"Uh."

Staring up at the swathes of interlinked paper chains strung between the beams in the ceiling, Jared let out a terrified yelp when Jensen suddenly swung down in front of him.

"Holy-"

Jensen beamed at him from upside down. "Hi."

Jared floudered for a long moment. "I- What-" He took a deep, calming breath. "Why is our ceiling covered in shiny paper?"

"They're paper chains," Jensen said, as though that explained everything.

Jared sighed. "Yeah, man, I got that they were paper chains. Why are they hanging from our ceiling? And why are there thousands of them?"

Jensen shrugged. "It's Christmas. We needed decorations."

"This many decorations?"

"I'm very efficient." His smile faded as he looked at Jared. "You don't like them."

It was a little alarming how easily Jared's upside-down, three-hundred-year-old vampire boyfriend could make him feel guilty.

"I don't not like them," he said, looking up at the paper chains again. There were still approximately a million of them. "I just think maybe we should moderate the rest of the decorations. Y'know, use them sparingly."

Jensen's smile was back in an instant. For an ancient creature of the night, he was worryingly similar to a toddler. "I can be sparing."

"Very sparing," Jared said, dropping his bag to the ground and moving in closer. "You know how much you like sharing your sweatervests with Chad?"

Jensen's eyes narrowed in disapproval. "He wears them ironically."

Jared cut him off before he could launch into any more familiar complaints. "I know. Now imagine that you're you, the room is Chad, and any Christmas decorations are your sweatervests. Be extra sparing."

Jensen nodded. "Extra sparing. Got it." He flailed an arm in Jared's direction and smiled. "Spider-Man kiss?"

Attempting to hide his smirk, Jared let Jensen tug him forward. "Spider-Man kiss."

"Sweet mother of fucking Christ."

Pressed up against the door, Jared locked his knees together in an attempt to stay upright as he yelled, "Jensen!"

Half-expecting some more attempted swooping, he was relieved when Jensen came ambling down the stairs in jeans, a shirt, a sweatervest, and glasses. He looked rumpled and content and eminently fuckable, which was almost enough to distract Jared from the monstrosity in their hallway.

"Hi," Jensen said cheerfully. There were little ruffles of tinsel on his glasses. "Did you have a good day?"

"The day was great," Jared said. "Being sized up by a sociopathic reindeer as soon as I step through the door? Less great."

Jensen looked over to where his latest Christmas ornament - a thigh-high reindeer with the eyes of a killer - was sitting in the hallway. "You mean Prancer?"

"Prancer?" Jared looked back at the reindeer and shuddered. "Is it named after what it does on the corpses of its victims?"

Wandering over, Jensen gave the reindeer a pat on the head. "I thought he was cute."

"You thought the Jigsaw puppet from Saw was cute too."

Jensen smiled at the memory. "He has those little hands."

He patted his hands together in demonstration.

Jared shook his head. "You have terrible judgment about what's cute." He pre-empted Jensen's question. "Except when it comes to me. Then you're right on the money, obviously."

Dropping his bag, he wandered over to pull Jensen into a kiss, very aware of the murderous reindeer sitting beside him. "You think maybe we could lose the reindeer, huh?"

Jensen looked unconvinced. "But he's festive."

"Jensen, the only thing festive about him is that he looks like he'd hum 'Jingle Bells' as he ripped people's spines out with his teeth."

Seeing Jensen's pout, he settled his hands on his hips as he said, "Okay, compromise. How about we put him in storage until next Halloween? Then you can display him proudly and traumatize some small children in the process. Deal?"

Holding out his hand, he wiggled his fingers until Jensen shook with a reluctant smile. "Deal."

Jensen pushed his glasses up his nose, then petted the reindeer again as he asked, "Does that mean I should get rid of the other seven as well?"

Between the two of them, they lost count somewhere between six and seven as they loaded the creepy reindeer into the loft.

The loft meant ladders, which meant staring at Jensen's ass as he went up and down ladders. This then led to grabbing Jensen's ass, which led to squeezing Jensen's ass, which ultimately led to fucking Jensen's ass and collapsing in bed in a sweaty, exhausted heap, with his thoughts on anything other than psychotic reindeer.

As such, when Jared wandered into the bathroom the next morning to find the surviving reindeer watching him from the shadows, he nearly shat his pants in terror.

As December rolled on, Jared got more and more accustomed to Jensen's love of everything Christmas. He didn't bat an eyelid when he came home to find Jensen sitting on the roof with an armful of fairy lights; he took the aggressively giant Christmas wreath in his stride; and he was very calm when suggesting that Jensen maybe shouldn't cut down the neighbors' prize conifer to use as a Christmas tree.

However, while he was willing to agree to most things in order to maintain Jensen's infectious level of enthusiasm, he had to draw the line somewhere.

That somewhere was Jeff.

"You did what?"

Jensen didn't look up from where he was stirring a bowl of red batter. (Jared really hoped the cupcakes were red velvet flavor.) "It's Christmas in four days," he said. "Family meals are traditional. Y'know, you give gifts, eat food, and get drunk. It's fun."

"Hey, I'm not against family meals," Jared said. "Family meals are awesome. Family meals with Jeff, on the other hand? Not awesome. The opposite of awesome."

Jensen scowled. "I like Jeff. And you didn't hear me complaining when we saw your family last week."

"Yeah, but that's much less stressful. My family love you."

Jensen raised his eyebrows. "Your grandma called me a hellbeast."

"She was drunk," Jared said, waving it away. "She meant it in a fond way."

"I don't think there's a fond way of calling someone a hellbeast."

"Sure there is." He ruffled Jensen's hair and kissed him on the cheek. "Who's my favorite little hellbeast?"

Jensen stared at him.

Jared let his hand drop back to his side. "Okay, point taken," he conceded. "But my family are a different thing. For one, they're the people who gave birth to me and raised me, not some guy who thought I was too pretty to be a priest and so turned me into a vampire instead."

Ignoring Jensen's glower, he soldiered on, "And secondly, I have never slept with any of my family. There is zero awkward sexual tension at a Padalecki family event."

"There's no sexual tension with Jeff!"

Jared laughed. "You're kidding, right? Jeff has sexual tension with everyone. He'd probably have sexual tension with that pot plant."

Jensen curled a protective arm around his plant. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm dating you. I love you. Sure, Jeff's my maker but we haven't been together for decades. There's nothing to worry about."

"Oh, really? So I don't need to worry about Jeff showing up and deciding I'm suddenly not good enough for his Jensen? Because that is definitely a concern I'm having right now."

He took a breath and leaned against the counter next to Jensen. "He has tattoos, Jensen. And a motorcycle. And a beard. He's like every 'bad boy' ex from the movies, except older and legitimately attractive."

From the twitch of Jensen's lips, he was trying to hide his smile when he asked patiently, "Are you done?"

"No!" Jared said. "No, I'm not done, because on top of all that, he's a fucking vampire! Murder is actually a plausible outcome here." He paused for breath again, dangerously close to hyperventilating. "Oh, god, I'm going to be murdered by your angry vampire father."

"No-one is going to murder you," Jensen said, moving in to wrap his arm around Jared's waist. "I'm a vampire too, and I haven't murdered you."

"That's just because you like my dick," Jared said pitifully.

Jensen kissed his neck. "The rest of you is pretty great too." The kisses moved up to behind his ear as he murmured, "Relax. Jeff'll come for dinner; we'll all have a great time; and he'll be gone the next day. There will be no murder, no cheating and no awkward sexual tension. Just happy Christmas fun."

He said it with all the naive enthusiasm of a small child and Jared sighed as he pulled him in for a kiss on the lips.

"Okay," he said, unable to crush Jensen's hopeful Christmas spirit, "we'll have dinner with Jeff."

Jensen smiled against his lips before kissing him again. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome." Jared gave his ass a lazy squeeze as he sighed. "Y'know, I like how vampires have managed to merge the worst parts of in-laws and exes into one horrifying maker-shaped combination. It's inspired, really."

Jeff was touchy.

Not in the easily offended sense (although Jared wasn't sure that would've been any better), but in the tactile sense. He pulled Jensen into a warm hug when he arrived; he touched his arm whenever he wanted him to pass something during dinner; and as they sat around in the living room afterwards, Jared didn't miss the way Jeff's hand strayed to Jensen's thigh.

He was in the middle of some story about hooking up with a Scandinavian princess, which was something Jared neither cared about nor wanted to picture. His body language was loose and relaxed from a night of wine and blood, and Jared blinked out of his trance when Jensen laughed against Jeff's shoulder.

"Hey, keep it clean," Jensen chided. As far as Jared was concerned, that ship had sailed within five minutes of Jeff walking in the door, but Jeff just held his hands up in amused apology as Jensen pushed himself to his feet. "Anyone want a drink? I could use some water."

"I'm good, sweetheart," Jeff said, smiling, and Jared forced a smile of his own.

"No, thanks."

Shrugging, Jensen disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Jared to stew in silence as Jeff made himself comfortable on the couch.

"Y'know, Padalecki, if you want some real-life pearls to clutch, I think I might have some in my pack somewhere."

Narrowing his eyes, Jared looked over to see the easy grin on Jeff's lips. "I'm not clutching any pearls."

"Really? 'Cause you seem awful twitchy about me spending some time with the two of you." He smirked, fingers curled around his glass of whiskey. "I'm not about to steal him from his bed, you know."

"It's not like it would be the first time, right?" Jared said, unable to keep some of his bitterness from seeping through. Rationally, he knew better -- he trusted Jensen and didn't think he'd ever go behind his back with Jeff -- but his own relationship with Jensen seemed like a drop in the ocean of Jensen's history with Jeff.

He wondered how many times Jeff'd had this conversation with Jensen's boyfriends before.

"Just for the record," Jeff said, "it's been a long time since me and Jensen were together. I don't make a habit of interfering in his love life."

"Except for that one time you killed a guy?" Jared said, remembering that particular snippet of their dinner conversation.

Jeff didn't blink. "He was going to string Jensen up, drain his blood, and sell it on the black market," he said coolly. "He deserved worse than what I did to him."

Jared gulped.

"You don't try to kill him and we won't have a problem," Jeff said, relaxing again. His teeth were white when he smiled and Jared couldn't help but picture fangs.

"Look," Jeff said eventually, some sympathy creeping into his voice, "I know you don't like having me around much and I can't say I blame you. I get protective about Jensen moving in with guys he's been with, what, seven months?"

"Ten," Jared corrected.

"Ten months," Jeff said. "So I can imagine how difficult it is for you to deal with someone who's spent three centuries with him."

Jared pursed his lips. "Well, it's not like you were together that whole time."

"A century and a half then."

"And with the on-again, off-again thing, you weren't really in a relationship for all of that."

Jeff's eyes glittered. "Let's call it a solid three years."

Jared frowned. "I-"

"Just counting time spent in the bedroom," Jeff finished.

Jared pondered whether Jensen would mind if he just stabbed him a little bit.

"But that's not my point," Jeff said, setting his glass down and leaning forward. "Sure, Jensen and I have been together a long time. There's no erasing that, but I'm not about to fuck up everything he's got going on here out of petty jealousy." He smiles. "I'm definitely old enough to know better."

Jared raised his eyebrows. "So I'm not getting the 'stay away from my spawn or else I'll eat your face off' talk?"

Jeff laughed. "No. You even think about hurting him and face-eating is back on the table, but somehow I don't think that's a risk with you."

He looked down, twisting one of his rings around his finger as he said, "Honestly, I wasn't sure it would last when I first met you. You had on some stripy floral clusterfuck of a shirt and looked like you wanted to hide behind Jensen's legs whenever I turned your way, but I'm glad you proved me wrong. I don't remember the last time I saw Jensen this happy."

"Really?" Jared blinked, trying not to sound as surprised as he felt. "Not even in the blood-sucking glory days?"

"I don't know if I'd call them that," Jeff said, smirking in a way that indicated he would definitely call them that. "But he seems happier here with you than he ever was when we were out on the hunt."

He glanced around, taking in the paper chains on the ceiling and the tree that sagged under the mass of decorations. "I can't say I approve of his vast collection of knitwear but it's peaceful here. It suits him." He looked back at Jared, his gaze softening for once. "You suit him."

The hinges on the kitchen door squeaked before Jared could say anything.

Jensen came strolling back in, a glass of water in his hand and a pink flush lingering on his cheeks from the night's alcohol, and he took advantage of the lapse in conversation to ask, "So, what were you doing in Denmark? Aside from getting to third base with Christina."

Some of the tension ebbed away as Jeff reached back to pick up his whiskey but Jared couldn't bring himself to pay attention to his explanation when Jensen sank down onto the couch beside him. His body was warm against him, his breath still smelling faintly of cinnamon from the dessert that evening, and Jared wrapped his arm around his shoulders as Jensen leaned into him.

Maybe having Jeff over for dinner wasn't the worst idea Jensen had ever had.

(He was definitely an improvement on the reindeer.)

Jeff departed at sunset the next evening.

Expecting Jensen to spend the night tidying up and taking things easy after all the effort that went into dinner, Jared was understandably taken aback to get home from work to find all flat surfaces in the kitchen covered by cookies.

"You have a problem," he said, leaning against the doorjamb with a sigh. "You need professional help."

Scooping another tray of cookies out of the oven, Jensen glanced back over his shoulder, perplexed. "You mean like a chef?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a life coach," Jared admitted. Dumping his bag by the door, he weaved his way through the precarious cookie piles to rest his hands on Jensen's hips and kiss him hello. "How was your day?"

"Good," Jensen said, smiling. "I finished reading that eco-terrorism book, then I started knitting that scarf your sister liked, and then I baked cookies."

"Yeah." Jared looked around again, just to double-check he hadn't hallucinated dozens of cookies. (Unfortunately, he hadn't.) "I can see that. Was there a reason you baked a quadrillion cookies? Are you stockpiling in case of a cookie apocalypse? Did you offer to host a Cookie Monster orgy without telling me?"

Jensen laughed. There was flour on his nose, which was more endearing than it had any right to be. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "It's Christmas Eve tomorrow. We need to leave some cookies out for Santa."

Jared eyed him with suspicion. "Please tell me you know Santa's not real."

"I'm not five," Jensen said, rolling his eyes. "But that doesn't mean we have to ignore tradition."

"And I'm okay with that," Jared said, holding his hands up. "Tradition can be fun. But it's Santa, Jensen. Not Augustus motherfucking Gloop."

Jensen's smile dimmed. "You think it's too many?"

Unable to deal with Jensen being sad (especially when that sadness was related to baked goods), Jared pulled him in for another kiss as he said gently, "Kind of, yeah." Resting his hands on Jensen's hips, he kissed him on his flour-streaked nose. "Some general life guidance? When even I balk at the amount of food you're making, then that is too much food."

Jensen considered this. "I watched you eat a whole meatloaf without stopping for breath."

"Exactly!" Jared beamed triumphantly. "You see my point."

"I see your point," Jensen said, surveying the plains of cookies with a sigh. "I guess I should throw some of them out."

In spite of his better judgment, previous statements, and stomach capacity, Jared found himself moving to block Jensen's path to the trash.

"Well, hey, I mean, let's not do anything we'll regret…"

"So, are you going to explain why you like Christmas so much?"

Perched on the flattest part of the roof, Jared accepted a glass of eggnog from Jensen as he picked his way down over the fairy lights to sit beside him. Behind the hills in the distance, the sun was finally setting in a haze of orange, marking the official start of their Christmas.

"I didn't know there was anything to explain," Jensen said with a smile. "It's Christmas."

"And you're a vampire." Jared bumped their elbows together as he rested his arms on his bent legs. "They're not known for being into Jesus fests."

Jensen shrugged, looking out over the hills. "It's not the Jesus thing. I mean, I know I was a priest once but that was a long time ago." He glanced over at him, face lit in the glow of the dying sun. "Religion loses some of its impact once you wake up with fangs."

Wrapping his coat more tightly around himself, Jared cuddled in closer to kiss Jensen on the temple.

"I like your fangs," he said, letting Jensen settle in his arms. "I like all of you."

"Even the part that buys creepy reindeer statues?"

"Especially that part," Jared said, kissing him again. "Every December should include at least one moment of pants-wetting terror, courtesy of a psychopathic reindeer in the bathroom. It keeps my reflexes sharp."

Jensen laughed. "I'll bear that in mind for next year." He stretched his legs out on the rooftop, wiggling his toes in his snowman socks. "I just like it, y'know? Christmas is pretty much the only thing I remember from being human and even when I was with Jeff, we used to celebrate most years. It's nice."

"Jeff celebrated Christmas?" Jared frowned. "He doesn't seem like the candy cane type."

Jensen smirked. "Maybe not the candy part so much."

"The cane type?" It clicked a moment too late. "Oh." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sex stuff."

"Most of Jeff's celebrations involve sex stuff," Jensen said, smiling at the memory. "He's predictable like that."

"At least you get some variety with me," Jared said hopefully. "You get advent calendars, paper chains, and cookies instead."

"Hey, you haven't opened your presents yet," Jensen said, letting his hand inch down to Jared's ass as he snuggled in closer. "I wouldn't rule out sex stuff entirely."

Intrigued (and already a little turned on) at the prospect, Jared kissed him on the lips before glancing back out over the hills. He felt Jensen relax next to him the second the sun disappeared for the night and he raised his glass of eggnog as he looked up to the stars emerging above them. "Merry Christmas, man."

Jensen's smile was broad and sincere as he clinked his glass of blood-tinged eggnog against Jared's own.

"Merry Christmas," he said softly, and kissed him.