( Dean will always be handsome, that will never be in question. Along with his fine lines, he's filled out. It's muscle and weight and stress and disappointment. It's years of fighting a battle that never ended, of learning that most of his life was carefully written by God himself. In that, he could forgive Bela. He had been, after all, on Team Free Will. But, Chuck also admitted he didn't manipulate everything. )

As much as I'd love to stand in the freezing cold and talk the Supernatural series, we're sitting ducks. You want to have a real conversation, let's head inside.

( Granted, what's near that would count as inside and is appropriate. He's not feeling a type of way, but he knows what transpires from partaking in anything not made themselves. He hates that what's closest is a café, but maybe he can order a coffee that won't go straight to his dick. Not with her.

Don't think he doesn't spy her bare neck. So she drew the longest straw Dean was bestowed at Christmas. She always did slither out of the most uncomfortable situations.

The cafe also doesn't exudes any outward porniness. There's that, at least.

Once inside the refuge away from any snowballs (and Dean does check, he visibly relaxes, but tenses up again when he looks at Bela. )

Does coffee warm the ice in your veins or just evaporate when it makes contact?