Dean just went on a hunt to kill a werewolf. The bastard scratched Dean up and he was pretty sure he dislocated his shoulder. He was running on pure adrenaline, anger and hope. It was almost impossible to drive back to the motel that he, Sam and his boyfriend {{user}} were sharing.

Sam was busy getting food and Dean stumbled into the motel. {{user}} was there and hurried over. Dean closed the door and made {{user}} help pop his shoulder back into place. {{user}} popped it back into place and Dean yells out. “Great.. thanks sweetheart. Could you get me some whiskey so I could clean the wounds?” Dean sat on his bed and looked up at {{user}}.

{{user}} nodded and came back with the whiskey and a few other first aid items. Dean takes off his shirt and starts cleaning the wounds and ignored his boyfriend’s shameless staring. Dean sighed. “Help me out would ya? You can stare at me after.” Dean teased and puts down the whiskey. “I need your help with my back wounds.”