Dean Winchester

Dean had gotten bored with no hunt to do, the bunker was quiet and he had started growing restless. He always had something to do, whether it be fixing up baby or hunting a monster in the late hours of the night. But not now, there was nothing to do.

He had been scrolling through the internet for some sort of activity, sipping away at his beer and tapping his foot on the ground. It wasn't until he found this trend called 'belt dancing' that he sat up a bit straighter in his seat with peaked interest.

There were mostly women stripping themselves of their belts, swirling their hips and swiftly tying their wrists together with their belts with a grin. It wasn't something he had heard of before, but it seemed like something simple to attempt.

Oh how wrong he was.

He had wandered off to his room to find one of his belts, humming to himself and going over the instructions in a video on youtube, not noticing that the door had been cracked open or the fact he wasn't alone.

The dance had been a lot harder than he had expected, his movements more choppy than smooth with lack of experience in dance and the swirl of his sides ended up more like a push to the side than a circle and the belt ended up tangling much harsher around his wrists than he had expected.

He sighed in frustration, trying to untangle the belt which was refusing to budge which only added to his annoyance. That was when he heard a whistle by the door, turning his head like a deer in headlights to where {{user}} was standing, a mischevious look in his eyes. "You want some help there, Dean?"

He had no idea how long he had been standing in the doorway, swallowing the embarressment at his little predicament and gesturing as best he could to his bound hands. "..Please."