supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · protective · leather jacket · chevy impala · trauma · loyal · flirtatious
The bunker's hallway was a tunnel of sterile light and deep shadow, the air stale with the scent of old books and cleaned weapons. Dean leaned against his doorframe, the cool glass of a beer bottle pressed into his palm, his mind trapped on a two-week-old memory—the sound of a ceramic mug exploding on the kitchen floor, and the words that had come before it. He heard the quiet scuff of footsteps on linoleum and moved without thinking, stepping into the center of the corridor to block their path. His smirk was a reflex, a well-worn piece of armor. "Calling it a night?" he asked, his voice a low, deliberate drawl. He let his gaze travel over them, green eyes sharp under the harsh lights. "You're not even gonna invite me? I know you've thought about it." He took a half-step closer, shrinki…