It had been an awfully long day of doing research for the job they had come to town for, and Dean could practically hear his brains screaming for coffee and a good night's sleep. It didn't really sound like a good combo, coffee and sleep, but he didn't have a problem with it. He was always tired, always ready to doze off, and no amount of coffee could take away his sleepiness. It did help him wake up in the morning, but it sure as hell didn't stop him from getting his beauty sleep when he actually had the time to lay down.

"You want something to eat?" Dean asked and glanced at his brother, who had his eyes glued to the screen of the laptop he had on his lap.

"No," Sam shook his head. "Just coffee."

"You sure? All you ate today was a salad."

"I'm sure, Dean," Sam sighed and raised his head to look at his brother with tired eyes. They had went over this conversation far too many times. "I just want coffee."

"Geez, alright, we'll go get some before heading back to the motel."

As Dean steered the car towards the center of the town, Sam went back to reading something from his laptop. Dean was pretty sure it wasn't anything related to their job, but he kept quiet. He was simply happy if Sam took a little break from his researching and studying every once in awhile.

"Dean," Sam suddenly turned back to his brother. "Can we go to Starbucks."

"Star-what?"

"Starbucks," Sam repeated with an amused smile. "It's a coffee place that serves, well, special coffees."

"I don't need a special coffee, I'm good with regular," Dean furrowed as he spoke. He didn't need anything special. He just wanted a simple coffee with a little cream in it, but no, Sam just had to get something special instead.

"They sell regular coffee too," Sam sighed, closing his laptop. "C'mon, Dean."

"Fine," Dean huffed and threw an angry look at Sam. "But only this once, and only because you did a good job today."

"All we did today was read."

"Shut up if you want your coffee."

A long, quiet fifteen minutes later the brothers arrived to their destination: Starbucks.

Just by looking at the place Dean knew he'd hate it. The logo had a weird looking lady with a crown on it, and there were teenagers inside. Wherever was teenagers more than adult wasn't a good place. But he had promised Sam this one time, and if he could handle hunting demons, he could handle some teenagers in a coffee shop.

"What do you want?" Sam asked as they approached the counter.

"What do you mean what do I want?" Dean blustered. "You told me they sell normal coffee here."

"They do, but I'm not gonna order you a regular at Starbucks," Sam laughed, only getting an annoyed look from Dean since they already stood in front of the counter.

"What can I get you two today?" The barista with a pair of sparkling blue eyes asked with a wide smile on his face.

"A coconutmilk mocha macchiato for my brother over here, and a cinnamon dolce latte for me, please."

Dean stood dumbly by his younger brother, having no idea what he was ordering for them. It made Dean a bit anxious. He didn't want to waste his hard earned money on a drink that had a longer name than he did. He knew there would never come a day when he'd understand his brother's weird taste in food, or when he'd actually like something his brother made him taste.

One time Sam had insisted they'd go to some "famous" eco friendly restaurant, where he had ordered Dean something with fake bacon in it, and Dean had absolutely hated it. Just thinking about it still sent shivers down his spine and made him want to throw up. He had sweared to never try vegan food again in his life, and right after Sam had been done with his vegan fish Dean had driven straight to McDonald's and ordered a big mac.

"Dean," Sam's voice and a gentle nudge to his side dragged Dean back to earth.

He looked at his brother, and then at the barista who was handing out a coffee. Hesitantly Dean accepted it, flashing a quick smile to the man.

"Have a good night, Dean," the man behind the desk smiled, confusing Dean for a moment.

"Uh, sure," he managed to get out of himself. "You too."

The brothers headed back to the Impala, and Dean couldn't stop the previous scene from replaying in his head. He was pretty sure he hadn't heard the barista call Sam by name or wishing him a good night, so why him?

"Why does the cup have my name on it?" Dean furrowed as he stared at the cup in his hand.

"It's just a thing they do," Sam shrugged, like it was the most normal thing ever.

To Dean, it felt like kindergarten, where everyone had to have their names written on their cups so they wouldn't go missing or get mixed.

He kept staring at the cup, hoping that the insides would disappear so he wouldn't have to taste it. Sam could praise the place all he wanted, but coconut-whatever didn't sound too good to Dean. But that's probably why Sam had ordered it in the first place; to prove Dean that something that didn't sound delicious could still be good.

"Is there any text on your cup? Besides your name," he asked as he noticed some more writing on the other side of his cup.

"What? No," Sam turned to look at him with an cocked eyebrow. "Why?"

"There's something on mine," Dean mumbled as he tried to read the text in the dim car. His job got remarkably easier when Sam turned on the car's lights. "Wow," was all he managed to say when he finally got to read it.

"What?" Sam stared at him for a while, but Dean was unable to answer. "What, Dean?!" He was getting frustrated, and a little worried, and when he still got no answer from his apparently now brain dead brother, he snitched the cup from his hand to see himself.

"Oh my god," Sam smirked as he read the text from Dean's cup. "Is this for real?"

When Dean finally turned to look at his brother, Sam gave him an amused look before reading the short text out loud: "You must have a nice personality."

"What does that even mean?" Dean asked, feeling annoyed more than anything. "You must have a nice personality," he whinged as he repeated what Sam had just read.

"It's a pick up line, Dean," Sam laughed, clearly thinking it was obvious. "A bad one, obviously, but that's what it is."

"Are you stupid or something?" Dean asked with a straight face. "Never mind, I know that already. But a pick up line, Sam? Really? There's no way a fucking barista at Starbucks wrote a pick up line on my cup."

"Well, it would explain why he kept staring at you the whole time," Sam shrugged with a stupid grin on his stupid face.

Dean had had enough of his brother's jokes. "Shut up," he mumbled as he took his cup back from Sam, taking a huge gulp from it to have something to do instead of thinking about the barista's bright eyes.

But his mood only darkened as he tastes the drink, because it was good. He actually enjoyed the taste. He didn't want to like it, he wanted to hate it because he hated when he was wrong about something.

"Well?" Sam asked after a while, waiting for Dean's reaction.

"I hate it," Dean mumbled, giving his brother an angry look so he would understand to stay quiet. But he could still see the victorious smile that grew on his brother's lips as he realized Dean liked it.