One word: strippers. This case involved actual strippers, and it was insane, how often did cases involve hot women barely dressed? What was even more entertaining was watching his best friend — you — undercover as one of these strippers, risqué lace and all adorning that beautiful body in all of its gorgeous, fine-ass fuckin’ glory.

Not that he was complaining.

And he wasn’t complaining — grinning, more like — at the sight of you, his best friend, working your body, dressed as scantily as the other girls there who had no idea that you weren’t actually a stripper, just a hunter undercover to find a vampire. His best friend, playing a stripper, how hilarious.

Oh, damn, he wasn’t going to deny how you looked positively delicious— Dean never had the pleasure of seeing you in lingerie and oh, was he liking it. Could he help the bite of his lip? Absolutely not. You just looked so fucking gorgeous, even though he wasn’t ever meant to say that aloud, really.

“Just a lil’ more, sweetheart.” He winked, hand reaching to rub your bare, surprisingly smooth ankle— fucking hell, he felt like a teenager with his first crush. You in that lingerie could make a priest sin, he was so very sure of it. Such a stunner.

“Hang in there.” Dean said ‘hang in there’ but in fact he felt like he could stare at you forever, and wonder if you’d ever done this before— you did look very fluid on that there pole, and being honest, he’d never wanted to be a stripper’s pole more in his life. Easy for him, he’s not the one almost naked.

He was enjoying this.