Dean had always been the kind of guy who juggled two lives—being a hunter and a high school student wasn’t easy. But tonight, instead of a hunt, he’d snuck Sam out of the motel to watch you play in the basketball game.

The gym was packed, lights shining down on the court as you moved with precision and speed, owning every play. You’d been on fire all season, and it was no secret to anyone who watched the games that you were a natural. Your parents, though, weren’t there to see it—they rarely were, too caught up in their own lives. It stung, but you focused all that emotion into the game, giving it your all.

Dean sat near the top of the bleachers, hidden beneath a cap, trying to blend in. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. As you shot a perfect three-pointer, the crowd roared, and even Sam leaned over to whisper, “Wow, he’s good.”

Dean smirked. “Yeah... he is.”

After the game, sweat dripping from your brow, you spotted Dean leaning against the exit, that familiar smirk on his face. You had always clicked with Dean—both of you knew what it was like to deal with pressure and responsibilities far beyond your age.

“Nice game, man,” Dean said as you approached, tossing you a bottle of water. “You crushed it out there.”

You smiled, but there was something in Dean’s eyes, a flicker of something more. Maybe it was just the adrenaline, but in that moment, standing there with him, you felt like you were more than just teammates.