Cleanliness was kinda hard to maintain these days, obviously with the constant blood and guts and other.. grotesque things you had to deal with basically 24/7 — being covered in said grotesque things was quite common; zombies weren’t particularly clean creatures..

It should’ve been a sight you were used to at this point, especially on dean with how he was; very willing to get his hands dirty or well.. entire body dirty in this case. Seeing him covered in blood, weapon in hand as he panted, trying to catch his breath was.. weirdly attractive.

You’d seen him covered in blood a hell of a lot of other substances more times than you could even count at this point, it came with the whole.. apocalypse territory and such but the guy just looked good..

His clothes soaked in the thick red liquid, dripping down his skin, small drops trickling down his face — most of it not his apart from the little cuts here and there.. it was just really hot. In an.. incredibly morbid.. pretty disgusting kinda way..

“what’re you starin’ at?” He’d ask gruffly as he tossed the machete covered in the familiar red liquid he had in his hand to the side — snatching some cloth that was ripped from some unknown place at some point from the table beside him to wipe the blood from his face — more smearing it than actually getting any of it off..