Based on the prompt: Santa's-elf!Jared, Single-dad-of-Santa-obsessed-child!Jense
Twas The Night Before Christmas.
Jensen’s only just finished tucking Lucy into bed when he hears a loud crash followed by the sound of muffled swearing coming from downstairs.
Now Jensen isn’t particularly brave or gung-ho and confronting a burglar is never a smart thing to do. Jensen isn’t completely naive, he watches COPS.
He realizes it can only end badly if he goes downstairs—like with the aforementioned burglar battering the innocent (way too young and good looking to die) homeowner to death with a mantelpiece ornament.
And in Jensen’s house that would mean the butt-ugly carriage clock his mom gave him for his thirty-first birthday. One of the few things Danneel didn’t take during the divorce, not counting Jensen and Lucy.
Lucy. Jensen’s mind is suddenly made up.
Hairs rising on the back of his neck he grabs for the nearest thing resembling a weapon, namely the ten-iron from the hallway closet and tiptoes down the stairs with his stomach twisting into knots.
There, in the dim shadows of the lounge, Jensen can see a guy crouched down by the Christmas tree and just like that, Jensen’s terror is pushed aside. He’s fucking furious—steam coming out of his ears, the whole shebang.
Nobody is going to steal his baby’s Christmas presents on Christmas Eve!
Jensen draws back his shoulders, trying to look menacing and clears his throat loudly. The burglar spins around, squeaking in surprise. Wait a second, squeaking?
The burglar stands up and holy fuck he’s huge. Before Jensen can start screaming like a girl (read, yelling his war cry), huge burglar guy is lumbering towards him, giant palms outstretched, reaching forwards and Jensen’s heart begins to jackhammer against his ribcage.
Jensen stammers out a sentence, something that sounds vaguely similar to pleasedon’thurtme and then he swings his golf club.
“Daddy, you’ve killed him.”
“Lucy, don’t get too close. He could have diseases or something.”
Huge burglar guy is flat on his back, laid out like a starfish on Jensen’s rug with a cushion from the couch tucked under his head. Now that the lights in the room are switched on, Jensen can see that huge burglar guy obviously isn’t a burglar at all—but in fact an escaped mental patient.
What other explanation can there be for a grown—extremely gorgeous man, Jensen’s brain adds— to be dressed in an elf costume. I got lost on my way to a fancy dress party, isn’t really going to cut it.
The other thing that Jensen now knows is that escaped mental patient guy wasn’t stealing Lucy’s Christmas presents at all. He was putting more presents under the tree.
There’s a huge goose egg beginning to rise on the side of the guy’s head which Jensen does not feel guilty about, Jensen continues to not feel guilty even when the guy’s forehead crinkles in pain and he rolls onto his stomach, lips parting to let out a soft snore.
Jensen doesn’t know who to call first. The cops? The men in white coats? Someone somewhere must be missing a ten-foot elf. The guy’s skin is pale but flawless with soft round splodges of red warming up his cheeks. His outfit is a pea green suit, with red socks tucked into shoes that have curled toes.
“He’s one of them, Daddy.” Lucy says, green eyes huge in a face still chubby with baby-fat.
“One of who?” Jensen whispers, putting an arm around Lucy’s shoulders and drawing her into his side, away from the guy.
“One of Santa’s elves. Can we keep him?”
Jensen hovers by the phone, reaching out to take it several times before dropping his hand away again. He doesn’t understand why he feels reluctant to make a simple phone call. The cops could come and take the guy away, arrest him for breaking and entering, even if he hasn’t actually stolen anything.
He hurries back into the lounge when he hears Lucy’s voice.
Elf guy is awake, propped against the side of the couch, sipping from a glass of milk which Lucy is holding up to his lips. “Where’s Santa?” Lucy asks as elf guy wipes away his milk moustache with the back of his sleeve.
“Santa’s got laryngitis, all the elves are filling in this year.”
“What’s your name?”
“Well, my elf name is Peppy Twinkle-Toes but you can call me Jared.”
Jensen takes a step forward. “Lucy go back to bed, I’ll be up in a minute.” Lucy nods glumly, surprising Jared with a squeezing hug before she reluctantly leaves the room and starts climbing the stairs.
“I’m sorry I scared you, we’re not supposed to let anyone see us.” Jared says, shrugging his shoulders. He looks embarrassed, the tips of his ears—his pointed ears—are turning bright pink. “I’m really clumsy sometimes. I think I broke your lamp...I’ll make sure Santa brings you a new one next year.”
“Oookay.” Jensen forces out. Should you maintain direct eye contact with a crazy person or will that just make them more likely to start freaking out? Aren’t you meant to lie down on the ground and pretend to be dead? No, that’s gotta be when you see a wild bear...isn’t it?
“Santa’s going to be angry, bet I don’t get any candy canes for a whole week.” Jared pouts.
“I’m sure he’ll understand. Look you should go...back to wherever you came from.” Jensen rubs a hand over his stubbled chin and sits down on the couch, it’s been a long night.
“You’re a good person. Lucy’s lucky to have a dad like you.” Jared pulls himself off the floor and onto the couch, the tiny bells on his shoes jingling as he shuffles closer to Jensen. Jensen’s stomach performs an unexpected somersault when he gets a good close up view of Jared’s face.
Elf costume and mental health problems aside, Jared is an A-Grade hottie. “Do you want your present now, Jensen?” Jared’s eyes are twinkling and Jensen’s too lost in them to wonder how Jared knows his name.
Jared leans forward and kisses Jensen softly on the lips. Jensen doesn’t mean to do it but he finds himself melting into the kiss, his traitorous dick twitching with enthusiasm as his fingers find their way into the dark hair curling at the back of Jared’s neck.
Jared breaks the kiss with a low groan and stands up. “I’ve got to go, I should be flying somewhere over England by now. The British can be really cranky if they don’t get their presents and Rudolf is probably getting worried.”
Jensen’s lips are still tingling. “Can I....Can I see you again?” Is insanity contagious? Jensen guesses that it must be because right now, he really doesn’t want Jared to leave.
“I can come back next Christmas, if Santa lets me ride shotgun.”
Jensen watches as Jared moves to stand over by the fireplace. Next Christmas? That’s a long way away, Jensen’s heart sinks.
Jared shrugs his shoulders, “But I hear the Easter Bunny’s got an opening for a PA and anyway, I’m due a vacation.”
“You’ll be back? How soon?” No, Jensen’s not desperate. Not at all.
“Save me a kiss for New Years.” Jared smiles, eyes lingering on Jensen, dimples carving deep crevices in his cheeks. He taps the side of his nose three times with one long finger and in a flash of twinkling lights, he’s gone.
Thanks to the Christmas Elf Name Generator for providing me with Jared’s elf name.
There's a Chinese translation of this story available here, translation by the lovely lynnwang .
There's also a Russian translation of this story now available. You can find it here. Translation by the sweet duesouth_parrot
You can download or live stream the podfic of this story here (there's tons of great holiday themed podfics all recorded by applegeuse )