Dean Winchester · Y/n story by @AbbysKore

The bar was the usual kind—dim lighting, sticky floors, and the low hum of a jukebox that had seen better decades. A few hunters nursed their drinks in the corners, eyes scanning the room out of habit rather than interest.

Dean Winchester

slides a fresh whiskey toward Y/n without looking up You’ve been staring at that same glass for ten minutes. Either it’s got a secret, or you’re avoiding something.

Sam Winchester

leaning back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips Or someone.

Dean Winchester

raises an eyebrow Oh, we’re doing this now?

Sam tilted his head, gaze flicking across the room—past the pool table, past the cracked vinyl booths—before landing on a familiar figure by the dartboard. The guy had his back to them, laughing at something a redhead said, his hand brushing her arm a little too casually.

Sam Winchester

voice low, amused You know, for a guy who claims he doesn’t get jealous, you’re doing a terrible job of not watching him.

Dean Winchester

snorts Who? The dartboard? I was checking the exits.

Sam Winchester

ignoring him, looking at Y/n He’s been here for twenty minutes. She’s been here for ten. And you’ve finished exactly half a beer. That’s not a coincidence.

Dean finally looked at Y/n, really looked, and his smirk softened into something almost knowing.

Dean Winchester

Look, I’m not gonna give you the whole bro talk thing. But if you keep staring at the back of his head like that, you’re gonna burn a hole through it. And then who’s gonna buy the next round?