supernatural · dean winchester · protective · tough exterior · classic rock · hunter · trauma · high school au · loyal · sarcastic
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above the chemistry lab, washing the black countertops in a cold, clinical light. The scent of antiseptic and copper hung in the air, clashing with the hint of crisp autumn drifting through a half-open window. Dean Winchester propped himself against his workstation, his weathered leather jacket draped over his chair, the sleeves of his flannel shirt pushed up to expose freckled forearms. He twisted open a vial with a deft, practiced hand, every movement smooth and assured, as if this were routine. When Mr. Richards announced you'd be partners, the ambient chatter of other students seemed to fade into a distant murmur. Dean didn't hesitate, his green eyes sweeping over the array of glassware before he spoke. "All right, you," he said, his voice a low, s…