dean sat at the dimly lit table in the motel room, books and a laptop in front of him. you walked over from your spot on the couch, undetected.

“deann,” you whine slightly, pouting at him as you let your arms dangle over his shoulders.

he turned and looked at you, smiling as he saw the feigned pouting you put on “aw, does my baby miss me?” he played into it, shutting his computer before turning his attention back to you.