Dean was sat on the old wooden chair in the middle of the motel room, a small towel draped over his shoulders.

you stood behind him, one hand pulling at his other, and the other snipping it with scissors. Ever since you, him and Sam had been hunting again, he hadn’t had time to cut it. So you’d offered to do it for him. Seeing as you were his best friend, he didn’t seem to mind the offer.

Although, Dean winced every time you snipped, and you rolled your eyes every time.