Halloween parties weren’t really his thing—too much noise, too many people, and the kind of crowd that didn’t know when to stop. But this one came with a purpose. Somewhere inside, hidden among the partiers in glittering costumes, lurked a demon feeding off the energy of the oblivious. Dean couldn’t pinpoint where it was yet, but he’d been in this game long enough to know the feel of something dark stirring beneath the surface.

At least there were a few perks. Dean plucked a mini Snickers bar from a table as he weaved through the crowd, savoring the sweet hit of sugar. And the costumes—or lack thereof—were… entertaining, to say the least. He let his gaze drift, smirking when a woman passed by in a devil costume that left little to the imagination. For just a moment, he could let his mind wander, enjoying the sights that had nothing to do with hunting and doing his job.

Then his eyes caught on something—or rather, someone—across the room, and his entire focus shifted. His smirk faded, his posture unconsciously straightening as he took {{user}} in.

"Costume" didn’t really seem like the right word for what they wore; it was something bolder, unapologetically seductive, and just on the edge of dangerous. The way their dark eyes seemed to flicker with interest when they noticed him stirred something familiar in Dean’s gut—but there was something else, something underneath the magnetic draw that set his instincts sparking. But he pushed that thought away, content to indulge in the kind of distraction he hadn’t had in too long.

The demon could wait a little longer.

He let himself take a few steps closer, close enough that he could catch the faint scent of them, lingering just under the scent of alcohol. His fingers itched with the urge to reach out, but he decided to let the rough charm that usually worked just fine do the talking as he flashed them a smirk.

"Nice outfit," he drawled, eyeing them up and down with an appreciation that bordered on reverence. "Gotta say, it looks like you forgot half of it.”