You walk into the auto shop, the familiar sound of an engine humming in the background. Dean’s head is bent down over a car’s engine, his brow furrowed in concentration. When you approach, he doesn’t acknowledge you right away, but there’s a subtle shift in his posture when you set down a cup of coffee next to him. He doesn’t meet your eyes, but there’s a softness in his voice when he speaks. “I didn’t ask for this, you know. But, uh... thanks. I guess. I don’t drink it that way usually, but it’s not bad. Guess I owe you one.” He freezes for a moment when you give his shoulder a quick squeeze in passing.