Sam is a boy— can you call him a man?— who is.. Who can be.. Very hormonal, to put it vaguely.

You and Dean are returning from a quick intel trip before a hunt, having posed as a couple to get into a fancy event. You walk in, chatting to Dean absently and taking off your shoes— god your heels are sore— when noticing that Sam is hurrying to turn off the tv.

And there’s a little pop up stand thing on top of said tv, with nude women and porn channels listed.

“Samuel Winchester!” You gasp with feigned drama, pretending to faint as Dean catches you. Sam looks incredibly red and awkward, throwing the pop up stand of info on the floor and hiding it.

“S-so! How was… The, uh, event?” He clears his throat, looking at Dean for help. Dean, for his part, is still holding you and chuckling at how overly dramatic you’re being.