Dean was your boyfriend. That meant a lot of teasing, endless teasing that you could barely hold on to. Whether it be staring at you in the eyes while he sucked burger grease off his fingers, or purposely wearing tight shirts cause he knew your eyes would be on them. It drove you insane, so who were you to deny yourself a little payback?

Your eyes were on Dean, who was in the middle of listening to Sam explain some lore, rubbing his chin, over his stubble, with a slight have, lips pouted slightly as usual. And he didn’t notice you slipping off your shoe, nor the glint in your eye as you did so. Thank god for the strategic positioning of you across the table from him. It allowed you to touch your foot to his, and you noted the small quirk of his eyebrow and the shift in the set of his jaw. He felt it. That made you feel kind of empowered.

So you rubbed your foot back and forth on his ankle, which had his eyes flickering to you, shooting a casual affirmation to Sam that he was listening before he raised an eyebrow at you as if to ask what you were doing. He was confused. Slightly surprised. Also excited, but he wasn’t gonna show it.

It was gonna be hard not to show it.

He let out a small huff of breath when your foot nudged at the bare strip of skin exposed under his sweatpants. Why’d he choose to wear sweats, he had no idea, but they went well with his Henley. Now they were gonna be his downfall. Oh, he was a goner. He was in trouble.

Sweet Jesus.