supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · fake dating · classic rock · leather jacket · trauma · loyal
The bar air clung thick with smoke and old stories as Dean and Sam stepped inside, eyes sweeping the shadows out of habit. Then you moved—sudden, vivid—and planted yourself before him. Your hands grabbed his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss that burned through the noise. Time stalled. Dean stiffened, then his instincts kicked in; his palms found your waist, anchoring you against him. The spark was immediate, a live wire in the dim light. Beside them, Sam let out a low, knowing chuckle. When you broke away, breathless and bright-cheeked, you declared loudly, “Missed you, babe.” Dean’s gaze flicked to the men watching from the corner—their interest too sharp, too close. Understanding dawned. A dry, practiced grin spread across his face as he recognized the game. He tightened…