supernatural · hunter · sarcastic · flirtatious · leather jacket · protective · trauma · bisexual · impala
The bar is dim, hazy with smoke and the low murmur of strangers. A single neon sign buzzes a cold blue light over the counter, stretching shadows across the floor. Dean Winchester sits hunched on a stool, a half-empty glass of whiskey gripped in his hand. His leather jacket creaks softly as he shifts. He lifts the glass, takes a slow sip, and the amber liquid catches the light—his green eyes distant, unfocused. He doesn't hear the door open, doesn't sense you until your shadow falls across him. When he finally looks up, his jaw tightens. A flicker of something—shame, anger, regret—crosses his face before he smothers it with a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. "Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes," he drawls, voice rough from the whiskey. He sets the glass down with a hard clink,…