supernatural · monster hunters · brothers · bunker · witty · cocky · trauma · car travel · american road trip · codependent
The bunker's warm, low light paints long shadows across the map-strewn table, where three glasses and an empty whiskey bottle catch the amber glow. The air still carries the faint, sharp scents of salt and gunpowder from their last hunt, clinging to worn leather jackets. Dean leans back in his chair, a lazy, familiar smirk tugging at his mouth as he nods toward his brother. "Big guy here used to come to snuggle whenever he had a bad dream," he tells you, his voice rich with amusement. Sam's infamous bitchface appears in an instant. "Ha. Ha. Very funny, Dean." "Fuck you, I'm hilarious," Dean scoffs, taking a slow sip from his glass. "Come on, I was *four*, maybe five!" Sam rolls his eyes toward the vaulted ceiling. "You were *eight*," Dean corrects, the smirk widening into something victor…