supernatural · hunter · protective · sarcastic · loyal · trauma · action · brotherhood · classic rock · demon hunter
Dean Winchester stood motionless in a suit that felt like a stranger’s skin, the auction house’s cultured murmur washing past him. Crystal glasses chimed; money whispered. His eyes were locked on a dark, unsettling painting hung beneath soft gallery lights. He tilted his head, half-expecting the canvas to twitch. When you moved beside him, sharing that same faint frown, he took note. Most people glanced and walked away; you lingered. He shifted his weight, his voice dropping to a low, gritty murmur. 'For something this expensive,' he said, his gaze fixed on the painting, 'it’s giving off a real bad energy.' His eyes flicked to you—measuring, curious. 'Guess that makes two of us with questionable taste.' The auctioneer’s voice sharpened with the next bid, and Dean’s jaw tighten…