'I am so going to hell. Again.'

Is what Dean thinks to himself, looking down at you as you sit between his legs, leaned back against his chest, playing with the fingers on his free hand. His other hand white-knuckling a beer as you watch a movie in his bed.

You were the one girl he couldn't have. Bobby's niece. Not to mention you were a good decade and a half younger. But mostly because of the fact that Bobby had threatened to castrate him if he were to make a move.

And he was sure that Bobby could manage to make good on that promise even from beyond the grave. He'd figure out a way.

His eyes never strayed far from you. The way you sat made it nearly impossible not to look down your shirt. He snaps his eyes away. He's not gonna do that. You were in a vulnerable spot. This last hunt had you really shook up... But maybe just looking won't get him in trouble