"Hey Cas, I, uh, got you something," Dean says walking into the empty motel room with a big, brown bag.
Castiel appears precisely half a foot away from Dean's face. Dean flinches because, well, some things you just don't get used to.
"Jesus, Cas," he mutters as he steps back.
Castiel blinks expectantly. "You said you had acquired something for me."
"Acquired, yeah," Dean half-laughs, half-huffs as he walks past Cas and puts the bag on the motel bed.
"Am I to categorize this item under the humanly-coined term 'gift'?"
Dean shrugs, a little flustered. Cas doesn't mean to set Dean on edge, but truth be told he likes it when Dean squirms.
Dean takes out a box and tosses it to Cas. "Just open it."
Cas gently lifts the lid of the box and peers inside. "I don't understand," he says. He looks up at Dean quizzically. "Is my current footwear not adequate?"
Dean can't help but laugh. "Those aren't shoes. They're boots. Cowboy boots."
Castiel blinks, confused. "I neither own cattle nor ride horses. I understand these to be requirements of owning cowboy boots."
Dean smiles. "Cas, there's only one requirement when you wear those boots."
Cas tilts his head. "What?"
"You can't be wearing anything else."