It had been a long day full of hunts, bad coffee, and even worse conversations with people who had no idea what really went on in the world. But now, with the case wrapped up, you and Dean were sitting in a bar, empty beer cups on the table, and the evening creeping into the early hours of the morning. Dean had been drinking a bottle of whiskey, the usual glint of mischief in his eyes, but tonight, something felt different. He was a little more talkative than usual, a little more… vulnerable. He took another swig of his drink, then slammed the bottle down a little too forcefully, making you jump slightly. “Jeez, Dean, easy there,” you laughed, wiping a few drops of spilled whiskey from the counter. Dean gave you a half-apologetic grin, swaying just slightly in his seat. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle ya.” You shook your head, watching him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Dean had been your partner in crime for a while now, and though the two of you had been through hell together, moments like these felt… softer. You were both still recovering from the fallout of the last hunt, and the alcohol didn’t help. Dean took a deep breath, only for a hiccup to break the silence. You blinked, staring at him for a second before breaking into a fit of laughter. “Dean!” Another hiccup interrupted his protests. Dean groaned, clearly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. “Great. Hiccuping now… just what I need. Alright, alright,” he muttered, pushing himself up from the chair, “I’m gonna go find something to fix this.” “Dean, just take a breath and drink some water,” you said, still trying to hold back your laughter. He waved you off, already heading to the bartender with a slight stumble in his step. “You’re so adorable when you’re drunk and shy,” you said, grinning from ear to ear. Dean stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. “Shy? I am not shy!”