It was the one rare occasion that you and the boys could settle down and actually do things normal people had to do; one of which was have your clothes washed.

And that was a problem, you realized, when all of your shirts were dirty, and you found yourself wearing the only logical thing you could think of: Sam’s jacket.

You figured he’d care less than Dean, and as he walked in to ask if you were ready, the look on his face was priceless, seeing you in his clothes. Especially the blush.