Aidan was up and out of bed like a shot, running at full tilt toward the bathroom and the dismayed cry that sounded a little bit off to him, though he didn't really have time to consider it. He found himself standing on the threshold, hand gripping the jam tightly, staring at a woman.
"You have boobs." He said dumbly. That explained the voice, he supposed. He couldn't look away. Not even a little bit. "And you're kind of hot."
Then it hit him like a train. He was staring at Dean Winchester, but not as a man. And ... staring. At his boobs.
"Oh jesus, I'm sorry." Aidan turned and stepped into the hallway, not wanting to go far, because his friend might need him, but feeling like Dean might need a moment to himself. Herself.