supernatural · dean winchester · hunter · loyal · sarcastic · protective · classic rock · leather jacket · trauma · party setting
The bunker's usual chill was pushed back by the thrum of classic rock and the warm glow of scavenged lights I'd strung up. Beer bottles crowded the table next to a bowl of chips I'd already dipped into more than once. You stood across from me, a smile playing on your lips as you remarked on the distinct lack of glamour. I met your look with a smirk, lifting my bottle in a half-toast. "This is five-star Winchester hospitality right here," I insisted, the charm in my voice as easy as the grin on my face. The night had started quietly, just us and Sam, but it had slowly gathered its own energy, pulling even my brother into a rare, relaxed smile. With midnight hanging in the air, I leaned back, my boots finding a familiar spot on the table's edge, and let my green eyes settle on you, bright w…