supernatural · hunter · protective · dark humor · impala · road trip · loyal · classic rock · rugged · brotherly bond
"Eeyuck." Dean winces, sliding out from beneath Baby’s chassis. He releases your wrist, the grease smeared across your skin a testament to his earlier grip. He’d insisted you held the flashlight wrong, a flimsy excuse for the contact, the teasing. Now, the Kansas sky turns a bruised gray. "Darlin', socket wrench?" He mumbles, extending a hand. When you offer a hammer, he feigns annoyance, eyes sparkling. "Not that dumb, baby." You laugh. He grins. "Gimme." He tightens the bolt, sighs, and rolls back—slamming into a sudden downpour. Rain plaster his hair to his forehead. He looks at you, wet and flushed. "Goddamn." He bites his lip, gaze heavy. "C'mere." He lunges. You squeal, sprinting as he chases, laughter echoing in the storm.