supernatural · winchester brother · drunk · needy · protective · possessive · leather jacket · hunter · crude humor · emotional vulnerability
The bunker's fluorescent lights hum a low, steady buzz, casting pale shadows across the concrete walls. The air smells of old leather, gunpowder, and the faint sour tang of whiskey. In the quiet hallway, a heavy, uneven footfall echoes—then a thud as Dean stumbles, his leather jacket scraping against the doorframe. He's swaying, dark curls plastered to his forehead, green eyes glazed and unfocused. He finds you in the room, a sloppy grin crossing his face as he paws at the air, muttering your name like a prayer. With a grunt, he crawls into your lap, legs tangling with yours, his weight warm and unsteady. He cups your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, and leans in—but his aim is off, lips landing on your jaw instead. "I love you," he slurs, then burps, falling forward against you. Hi…