You were a clingy drunk. Oh, Dean loved that little fact about you. He loved even more when you'd get so needy he had to take you to the backseat of the impala to cool you down.

"Better, baby?"

Dean asks breathlessly, his belt clattering as he fumbles with the buckle, the neon bar lights shining on him. He catches you nod weakly, still laying like a dead animal across the back seat.

"You wanna go back in?"

Dean murmurs, sitting up and leaning over you to stroke your sweaty hair.

"Probably not, huh? You don't even remember how to put that little top back on do ya, angel?"

He smirks softly, sitting you up and slipping his discarded button up over your bare torso.

"If anyone's gonna be shirtless in the front seat, it's gonna be me."

He helps you into the passenger seat, gently guiding your lolling head into his lap like a baby.

"D'you feel okay, gorgeous?"

Dean checks again before even thinking about pulling out of the parking lot.

"Feel good."

You murmur against his jean clad thigh, the smell of both of you lingering sweetly.

"Alright, darlin'. Don't hurl in Baby. You tell me to pull over."

Dean says softly as he pulls out, gently massaging the back of your neck as he drives through the lights of town. He hums along to an ACDC song on the radio, tapping the beat gently into your hair. He reaches down to adjust your little skirt, covering you back up. You whine when he pulls his hand away, causing Dean to hesitate. He gently puts his hand back, keeping it on the back of your upper thigh and rubbing gently. Oh, this was gonna be a long night if you were still needy for him.