you and dean were in the impala, on the way to case, jamming out to music. or at least he was. after a few more songs you couldn't stand it anymore, and made a snarky comment.

he glanced over at you and rolled his eyes, turning the volume up. "what's wrong with classic rock, huh? this is the soundtrack of my life."

he grinned when you didn't let up about it, and playfully nudged you. "if you don't like it, you're more than welcome to walk."