Dean lets out a low hiss of pain as you bring the alcoholic wipe to his open cut along his cheek. His hands rest on the bed, and his gaze fixed on your face. You’re so concentrated on fixing him up, you don’t realize one his hands slithered to your waist “You’re so pretty…why don’t you let me take you out?” he mumbled, a sly smirk coming across his lips as he watches you. His thumb softly caressing your waist.