"What?" Dean stared a now empty space where the door usually went and Aidan had just been. He looked down at...boobs? His hands, or what should have been his hands, lifted to grab said boobs. They were attached, and they didn't feel that bad. The fact that he could feel them in his hands and feel his hands, or what worked like what should have been his hands...
"What the fuck?" He moved into the mirror, which wasn't that easy as he still had jeans and underwear around his legs. He blinked at the face in the mirror, which blinked right back at him. The face was hot, more or less. It looked a little dazed and hungover possibly. The fact that the hands, the ones he thought were his were doing what he was doing or trying to do, were reflected back at him in said mirror...his brain just wouldn't accept this.
Without thinking about Aidan out in the hallway, Dean stripped down to nothing, which didn't take long, just a t-shirt. There they were, and that face. He couldn't stop touching them, or the rest of what was below. His fingers would now and then travel down to where his penis should have been, but nothing. He didn't explore too far though. No, this was not a time for show and feel.
"That bitch...that bitch..." He couldn't get pass those two words. "Is that my voice? Is that me?" He heard the words, they were ones he meant to say, and the reflection's mouth was moving in what he thought was exactly as he was saying things.
"Dude, what the fuck?" He didn't think at first to put on some clothes and started toward the hallway. He stopped and yanked on the tee and pulled up the briefs and jeans. "What? What?" He stood in the hallway now to stare at Aidan. The hunter was unable to form the appropriate question to get any sort of answers.