Collection of Destiel

Seasons Change, You Don't

Sometimes when the seasons change Dean feels a pull inside of him to become a new man. As the leaves morph into burnt oranges and reds he thinks he can completely happy with the world and find a place in it. When snow starts to fall from the heavens he thinks that he could harden himself so that he'd never know what heartbreak tastes like on the back of his tongue. When the sun warms the air he breathes into his lungs he think he can be the heroic man that his father was once.

It's snowing when he runs into his next door neighbor on the sidewalk between their homes. His nose is red and numb when he sniffles and meets eyes that stand out so strikingly to the pure white surrounding them. In that moment he can feel his heart harden.

"Oh." The man shuffles a bit with his hands buried deep in his trench coat. "Sorry."

"S'okay." Dean watches this man with a fascination that he began to have when he realized that his life was nothing but one mistake after another. It made him no longer yearn to bring people into his life and because of that he no longer feared rejection. "We were both looking down to keep the wind off of our faces."

"Indeed." Seeming to stop his shifting from foot to foot, the man eyed Dean carefully. "You live next door to me, correct?"

"Yeah, dude. I have for like years now." Somewhere in the back of Dean's mind he knew that he was running late to meet his brother and his brother's fiancé, but something about the careful precision of this man's words made him stay rooted to his spot.

The man nodded with almost a frown. "I'm Castiel Novak."

"Winchester."

"That's an unusual first name." Castiel tilted his head with squinted eyes and confusion marking his brow.

Dean felt laughter bubble up beneath the cold that was nipping at his skin. "That's my last name. Dean is my first name." Somehow, even in this bitter cold, he felt his heart start to peak out from its shell.

"Oh." Castiel hummed in the back of his throat before eyeing somewhere behind Dean's body. "I am running late."

Dean waited a beat before nodding. "Me too."

"I would rather not go at all." Castiel dropped his eyes to the sidewalk with almost a defeated slouch of his shoulders.

"Then don't." Without another pause Dean tugged his jacket around him tighter and made to take a step around this unusual man. "Go back into your warm house and tell the world to 'fuck off'."

That was the first time Dean met Castiel; and even as he was walking away with his chin held high he felt a stir of something deep in his bones that made him almost trip over his own feet.

'

It was just warming after a long hard winter when Dean found himself on the doormat of his next door neighbor. All winter he couldn't shake the thought that he wanted nothing more than to meet Castiel again. There was something about his voice that made Dean want to listen to it on end for hours. There was a simple calmness about the other man that was intriguing beyond belief.

Just as he is about to raise his hand to the doorbell, he remembers the way his father used to tell him of how he asked his mother on their first date. John had walked to her house in the pouring rain, knocked four times, and then there was Mary in the doorway looking as beautiful as an angel. Dean swallowed the memories, which tasted like stale beer, and knocked four times before he could change his mind.

And when the door opened, Dean knew what his father meant all those years ago. It's something to experience when one second you are staring at a wooden door and the next you are looking into eyes that you could fall into. It was if everything in the world made perfect sense for just a second.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice was rough with what sounded like sickness or sleepiness. Judging from the bags under his eyes it was the latter.

"Heya, Cas." He didn't realize the nickname slipped as he was too caught up in the idea that maybe this was the start of a good thing. "What's up?"

"At the moment, my mortgage rates." A small smile slipped across his lips as he said it like it was his proudest joke.

And Dean laughed like it was the funniest thing he ever heard. "Right, right. What're you up to today?"

"Oh. Today?" Cas seemed to think about it pretty hard before he shrugged. "Maybe read. My garden survived the winter but I should be doing some salvaging of it. What are your plans for the day?"

"Well, I was gonna ask this guy I met a couple weeks ago out for drinks." As smooth as butter it slipped from Dean's lips.

"Do you need advice in asking? I am not very sure that I am the best person to come to. I am afraid I don't usually initiate things."

Now, Dean felt his entire world shift. It was like he looked into Castiel's eyes and wondered if his life would ever be happy if this man left it. This adorably awkward, clueless, handsome man who gardened and read. In a millisecond Dean knew the answer to that.

"I was talking about you." Dean shot him his most humble smile.

"Oh." Flustered redness enveloped Cas' face as he seemed to be taken back by the idea of Dean asking him out. After a few heartbeats his head slowly nodded. "What time would you like to leave?"

"I'll pick you up at seven."

Dean went home and patiently watched the clock tick by as he couldn't wipe the smile from his lips.

'

The hills looked like quilts as Dean drove his Baby through a light sprinkle. All the trees whirling by him were colorful as if an artist took autumn colors and simply swiped with a brush on a canvas. It made him smile to think that three years had passed since he enjoyed this season alone. A light snore erupted in his car only concreting that thought.

His eyes darted over for a quick glance at the bundle of husband that was sprawled awkwardly across the passenger side bench seat. Husband. The word still rang almost too perfectly in his head. The gold band on his finger glimmered against the black steering wheel making a happiness bubble inside of him that made him want to jump around like a child with a new toy.

The seasons always come and go. And Dean watches from his window as the world shifts around him. But now there is something that stays and doesn't go. The man now hiccupping in his sleep. If possible, Dean's smile widens as he thinks back to the four knocks that led to the rest of his life and a happiness that didn't just come with autumn leaves anymore.