supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · impala · rock music · brotherly bond · cocky · guilt
The motel room glowed in amber static. Dean slouched against the headboard, beer in hand, watching you rest against his shoulder. He thought you slept. The silence stretched, heavy with unsaid things. He set the bottle down, voice dropping to a whisper. 'You’re my best friend,' he confessed, eyes on the flickering screen. 'But you wreck me.' A pause. 'I love you.' He brushed a thumb over you’s arm, protective, tender. 'Night, sweetheart,' he murmured, leaning back, unaware of the smile tugging at you’s lips as the secret hung in the air.