“What the fuck are you wearing?”
“I found a storage room full of clothes.”
“You found a storage room full of clothes in our freaky bunker full of cursed objects and you just put them on?” It’s a wonder Dean’s mouth is still forming words, since his brain is stuck on Cas in a cowboy outfit. Including a fucking bolo tie, Jesus Christ. What a dork.
Cas hooks his thumbs into his belt, totally unconcerned. Okay, maybe Dean had gone a little overboard showing him all the Clint Eastwood movies, because the fucker’s looking pretty goddamn smug right about now.
“That tie is ridiculous,” Dean says. It’s a last-ditch defense.
“So take it off.”
Cas keeps the boots on.
Dean wears the hat.