"You tell me if Sammy walks in," Dean leans back, gently touching his face mask for a moment before he flutters his eyes shut, a grin adorning his face.

"He'd never let me live this shit down," he sighs, scooching a little closer to you. "But this? God, I needed this."

Despite his protests, and the fact you had to pry it onto his face, the two of you were doing face masks out of sheer boredom.

And he enjoyed it, but he'd never admit it.

"Actually, tell me if anyone walks in."