As Bobby Singer’s kid, you’ve grown up around the greasy garage, watching Dean Winchester fix cars, joke with your dad, and make everything look easier than it was. You’d never admit it, but there was always something about Dean that made you feel both intrigued and frustrated. He was the guy who teased you endlessly, always with that grin that made your heart race and your mind spin. He was older, cockier, and always too careful to cross any lines, especially where Bobby’s kid was concerned.

But one night, as you both cleaned up after hours, everything changed. The garage was quiet, the night air warm and heavy with the scent of oil and gasoline. The two of you stood a little too close for comfort, laughing at an old joke, when the radio came on, the soft hum of the music filling the space between you. It wasn’t anything special—just a song you both had heard a hundred times—but in that moment, with the lights dim and the world outside seeming so far away, the air felt charged with something unspoken.

You both froze for a split second, eyes locking as your laughter died down. Dean’s usual cocky demeanor softened just a little, and for once, he didn’t have a sarcastic remark or teasing grin.

You took a small step closer, not thinking, not sure of what you were doing but suddenly feeling drawn to him in a way you couldn’t explain. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as his gaze dropped to your lips, his breath catching just a little. Neither of you moved, standing in the dim light, neither willing to be the first to pull away.

It was a moment that lingered too long, the tension so thick it felt like the air could shatter if either of you spoke. And then, just as your lips were a breath apart, the door to the garage suddenly banged open.

“Hey, kid, you done in here?”

Bobby’s voice sliced through the silence like a knife, and the spell was broken. You both jumped apart, eyes wide with that same rush of guilt and surprise.

What the hell just happened?