Collection of Destiel

How Do You Know

"How do you know if you love someone?" Dean's only six months away from being eighteen when the question flows from his mouth as he hands his father a wrench.

John pauses, seeming to mull over the question as if it's the most important question ever spoken in human history. "Love? I don't really think I'm the right person to ask, son. You should ask your mother. She's the romantic of the family."

"She told me to ask you."

"Is that so?" An amused chuckle escapes John's lips as he grunts under the hood of the impala.

Dean nods as he tries to wipe some grease from his finger tips onto his jeans. "Said you could explain it to me simply. I think she said something like I wouldn't understand the Shakespeare quotes she'd use."

This time it's a snort that bursts from John's throat. "Well, I guess you know you love someone when you look at them and life doesn't seem like a chore. Before I met your mother I worked and that was about my life. I didn't even know what I was working for. Every day I clocked in and clocked out and that was it. And I was okay with it. Then I met her.

"And just living wasn't enough." His hand pauses over the engine while his eyes seem to lose track of space. "I began to clock out with a smile because it meant that I could see her smile. The sound of an engine used to be my favorite sound until I heard her laugh. It's a weird thing, Dean. I think it is different for everyone. But for me... loving her is like never having to settle for anything."

Dean stared concrete of their garage under his boots with a growing sense of understanding washing over him. "I think I'm in love."

"Is that so?" John straightened and turned to smile down at his son. "What's his name?"

Blood rushed from Dean's cheeks as he gawked at his father. "How'd you-"

"You're my son, Dean." John smirked and clapped him on the back. "I know you. Now are you gonna tell me who this lucky young man is or am I going to have to get it out of your brother?"

"Castiel." A wave of contentness swept over Dean's mind as he finally told his father what he thought was a dangerous secret.

At this John barked out a hearty laugh. "From next door. He is a strange kid."

Dean squinted his eyes up at his father. "He's awesome."

"He must be." Without another second to pass John pulled his son against his chest and wrapped his arm around him. "You treat him right. And I'll make sure to let him know that he will treat you right. Maybe over dinner tonight?"

"Thanks, dad."

John held his son tighter, refusing to let go so Dean couldn't see the tear threatening to spill. "I'm so proud of you, son."

"John! Dean!" Mary's voice traveled from the kitchen. "Come wash up for dinner!"

"Call Castiel." John pulled back from his son to ruffle Dean's hair. "I'm sure your mother would love to have him over, too."

Dean's smile made John's heart pound. He didn't move as Dean bounded into the house with a bounce in his step. As the quiet settled around him, John knew that no matter what happened in his life his son's happiness would be the most important thing to him.