Dean Winchester never thought he'd get a break in the middle of a hunt, but here he was, leaning against the Impala in some small Texas town, hours to kill before nightfall. The hunt was leading them through back roads, but tonight? The town was alive. Music drifted through the air from a local country party just down the road. He noticed your gaze lingering in that direction.

"Why not?" you teased, nudging his arm. "It's a party, Dean."

He grinned, tipping his head toward the sound. “You know the rule.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile as you grabbed a cowboy hat from the backseat and placed it on his head. Dean smirked, tugging you close, his arm wrapping easily around your waist.

The party was buzzing with life—country music blasting, lights strung up between trees, and the smell of barbecue in the air. Dean blended in effortlessly, looking every bit the part with the hat and his signature smirk. You two danced to a few songs, laughing more than anything as he tried to pull off some sort of two-step.

At one point, you caught him watching you with that familiar intensity, eyes darker under the brim of his hat. “What?” you asked, half-laughing as you fixed your hair.

Dean took the hat off his head and settled it onto yours, pulling you close enough that you could feel his breath against your neck. “Just thinking how good you look in my hat.”