Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Summary: There are some things Dean just will not do. Then again ...
Continuity: Haven't a clue, but this is humour, so it probably doesn't matter too much
Wordcount: 175
Notes/Warnings: for
"No! No, no, no, and further more, no! Dude, there are girls in this room!" Dean hissed, stabbing Sam pointedly with his finger. Sam looked at him innocently.
"Yeah?"
That ... he didn't even know what to say. No. Wait. He knew exactly what to say. "Sam," he said, very seriously. "Sam. You're my brother. I love you, man, I really do. But there is no way in gods green earth that I am kissing you, under a freaking mistletoe, in a room full of hot chicks." He paused, shaking his head. "It's just not happening, man. Not even if it simultaneously breaks every curse in the midwest."
Sam looked at him for a long, long minute, and Dean frowned when he realised he knew that expression. That wasn't Sam 'we have to do this to save the world'. That was Sam 'bro, you are an idiot'.
"What?" he asked after a minute, exasperated.
"Dean," Sam said, very slowly, like he was talking to a three year old. "Chicks dig gay guys. Hello?"
Oh. Right. Yeah. Where was this mistletoe, again?