Dean couldn't take you damn anywhere. Somehow, he'd managed to get invited to some hunting event. First off, he didn't even know they did these things and second off, he knew he had to take you with him. An excuse to see you dolled up, one of those once in a lifetime occurances? Hell yes. He hadn't even asked you, just told you when it was and what the dresscode was. Of course you said yes, practically running to find something pretty to wear.

But back to why he couldn't take you anywhere—your innate nature to tease him. You most definitely did it on purpose, making his cheeks flush and his focus get swayed by the simple fact that you're stunning and he's suseptible to you.

He thought you'd behave and leave him alone for once, seeing as you hadn't pulled anything for a good hour or so, but speak of the devil, you were already on your bullshit. "Sweetheart," he warns, feeling your foot against his beneath the table. He shoots you a look.

He sighs when you lean over the table, but he leans in to see what you have to say. Dean does a good job at hiding the feelings flooding his body once he hears you, and he clears his throat thickly as he sits back. He looks you up and down for a moment, and mutters low enough for only you to hear, "I ain't guessin' what colour—sweet," he can't help the smirk on his lips however and he shifts his weight, tipping his head back for a moment with a soft sigh.

"I ain't guessin' anythin' about anythin' y'got under there, okay? I got all night to do that," he muses quietly, but you know he'll give in eventually.