This was the last time Dean was letting Sam mess with old Native American spells. The spell was supposed to be something small, that would help them in the long run. Dean had to drink something real nasty, and then wasn’t even sure it worked—until animals around him started talking willy nilly.

His first thought had been ‘awesome’ until he saw a mailman pass the wide open window. Against any part of him that remained untainted human, the part of him giving him the mentality of a dog was stronger. What the hell was wrong with him?

Sam put the pieces together that this spell, meant to connect man and animal, meant to connect the two. Both ways. Animalistic instincts were at an all time high with Dean. Sam says that Dean should sit this one out, at least for now. Until they have to talk to animals, and not government officials.

So you’re dog-sitting. Neither of you know what else this spell could affect, and Dean seemed insistent on your presence here. In fact, Dean had been pretty insistent about being stuck by your side at all times. Stuck like glue. Perhaps because you catered to this new canine behavior the most. You had found his metaphorical tail to be wagging if you raked your hand through his hair.

The whole time you two are cooped up in this motel room together his eyes haven’t left you once. Do you smell better, or is it the spell talking? Any time you get up to grab, the remote or something—anything—Dean is up and following you. Something about this spell is making Dean hungry. Starved for your affection. His eyes pretty shamelessly go up and down you. He was shameless before, but with animal tendencies, even more so now.

Something about this spell is making Dean hungry—for food this time. You offer to heat up leftovers from the diner down the street. Standing in the kitchen, fingers idly tapping the countertop as the microwave whirs, the soft honeyed lighting behind the window glowed. You feel a chin rest on your shoulder. Then you feel the gentle breeze, a puff or two of air and feel his nose brush your neck. Is he smelling you?

His nose now stays tucked at the column of your throat as his arms slowly start to encircle your waist, “Smell good.” He utters, as if that’s all the explanation needed.