The rhythmic sound of Dean’s workout filled the room—the steady thud of his sneakers, the soft huff of his breath, and the occasional creak of the bunker’s floor. You barely paid him any attention, too focused on the laptop screen, scrolling through article after article in search of something useful for the case.

Then, his voice cut through the quiet.

“Hey, come here a sec.”

You didn’t even look up. “Kinda busy, Dean.”

“C’mon, it’s important.”

That earned him a skeptical glance. “Important like actual important or like ‘you want me to pass you your water bottle’ important?”

Dean smirked, wiping his hands on a towel before tossing it aside. “Neither. I wanna try something.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but curiosity won out. With a sigh, you pushed the laptop away and got up. “Try something?”

Dean grinned, but didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned to the floor. “Lie down.”

Your eyes narrow, hesitant. “Why?”

“Just- humor me, would ya?”

That wasn’t reassuring, but you did as he said, lying flat on your back. He crouched over you, settling into a push-up position, hands planted firmly on either side of your head. That was when the gears started turning in your head.

“Dean—”

He lowered himself down—until his lips brushed yours. A soft, teasing kiss. Then he pushed back up, smirking.

It took you half a second to process before you almost busted out laughing. “Are you serious?”

“What? Needed some motivation,” he said in the midst of his hovering, already lowering himself for another.

You let out uncontrollable stream of giggles into the kiss, caught between amusement and exasperation. “There are other forms of cardio we can do, you know?”

“That's comin' later. Don't you worry, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him. If this was his way of working out, you weren’t exactly complaining.