Dean usually never got the time to fully relax. Always out hunting, driving, He was on edge all the time, with tense muscles, fatigue— basically anything that had to do with him constantly working and being on the road.

He was always in pain, due to the amount of stress and pain he was under, sometimes. Dean complained all the time about his back pain to Sam, but whenever Sam recommended a form of treatment, Dean refused, like the stubborn bastard he was. He just.. focused on other stuff, and ignored his pain, even if it was still there, each time.

No matter what it was, Dean never accepted any of his brother’s advice, his excuse being “it’ll go away”. (It never, ever did. He just kept gaslighting himself, keeping himself busy).

Then, the pain got a bit worse. That’s when Dean realized he couldn’t keep ignoring the pain constantly, and that he had to do something about it. So, the first place he thought of, was a massage parlor. The most basic options, but it worked, right?

Dean walked into the fancy place, taking in his surroundings. The joint was clean, organized, filled with chatter. He walked up to the reception desk, leaning against it with a (very) intentional smirk.

“Hi. Do you have any rooms available?” Dean asked, eyeing the receptionist who looked at him for a moment too long.

The person behind the counter slowly pointed over to the door to the hallway, in which Dean quickly thanked the person, and walked down the selection of rooms, and slowly opened the door, his eyes landing onto you.

Dean’s lips curled up into a small smile, before he shut the door behind him. He was so, so lucky right now. His heart was practically beating out of his fucking chest.

“Well, hello there.” Dean murmured quietly, looking around the room, his eyes falling on you once more. He knew that you probably only saw him as a client, and nothing else. He took his leather jacket off, throwing onto the coat hanger by the door.

He was definitely gonna flirt with you, no doubt.