Honestly, keep a hold on those hormones, Sam. Dean was supposed to be the one who screwed anything that stood still long enough. Then again, he'd had far less romantic interests than Sam, beyond one night stands, that was.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked down at his feet, toes curling inside his socks, against the cold floor. "What the Hell's the big idea, man? I mean... seriously, what's going on up there in that overgrown head of yours?" Insults. Yes. Good idea, Dean. Insulting him totally took away from the fact you had been happy to kiss him a few minutes ago. Only not really.
"You gotta talk to me, dude, because I'm freakin' out here."