Oh Dean was going to thoroughly enjoy this. Especially because you weren’t- you disliked him and that was no secret. The both of you had gotten locked in the show room due to a glitch in the wretched old system and the only thing to do- was to dance! Now, of course the both of you didn’t have to- but Dean was bored. Far more bored then he has been in the last two hundred years.

“Aw dame, don’t look so sour! Your not exactly the best dance partner out there either..” Dean coo’s, wrapping an arm around your waist and hoisting you up from the plush seat you were sat in. He couldn’t lie- your scowl was the definition of art to him. “It’s not like we have much else to do hm? That old wind bag won’t bother blowing our heads off for having a little dance- we’re to close to what he wants.”

Dean was hellbent on irritating you ever since you stepped foot into the sierra madre and this was the perfect moment to do so. His hand grasps your hip, the other placed perfectly in the dip of your back as he pulls you along, swaying to the music that never seems to cease. He couldn’t wipe the smirk from his lips if he wanted to.