Sam and Dean sat in a seas of empty chairs. They were the only wedding guests not up and dancing to the DJ's - surprisingly okay - playlist. Both boys had drinks in front of them and smiles on there faces.

It'd been awhile since either of them had seen their parents this happy.

Dean's father had always been a little off ever since Dean's mother died five years ago. Cancer. It always seemed to be cancer that ripped your love ones away from you just when you think you are safe. His father would stop eating for weeks at a time; he stopped combing his hair in the morning. The only this his father ever did was wake up, go to work, come home, sit mindlessly in front of the television, and then go to sleep and start the whole process over again. Three whole years his father lived in this constant cycle of nothingness and boring rutine- until he met Mary Cambell.

Sam's mother had been caught up in a horrible divorce with Sam's father- who happened to be the CEO of some large fishing industry - which ended with his lawyers taking almost all of their money and the majority of their belongings. The only thing his lawyers didn't fight for was eight year old Sammy. They lived with his mother's parents for awhile until his mother found a job and moved the two them into a small apartment in a less flattering part of Kansas. But they had come a long way since then Sam's mother went back to school with the help of her parents, and got herself a degree in pharmaceuticals, and Sam got a full ride to Stanford and graduated two years ago with a law degree. Everything was great, except for Mary who, as much as she tried to hide it, was lonely- until she met John Winchester.

They met online. Something both boys had pushed them to do.

"You need to get back out there, Dad. Mom would want you to be happy," Dean had reasoned as the third dating site commercial in row played on the television.

"You've done so much for me, Mom. But I think its time you do something for yourself," Sam suggested, pushing his laptop toward to her.

Now here they all were, two years, 154 dates, two vacations, and over a dozen secret love-making sessions in the laundry room later. Yeah, that's right. Mary and John were not the only ones enjoying each others' company. Dean and Sam were getting along just fine, too.

They had tried to stop it, but they just could not keep their hands off of each other. After each Sunday brunch at the John's country club while their parents would go off to play tennis, Sam and Dean would venture off to find a broom closet or an empty room to play a little game of their own.

Now, their parents were getting married and they had promised to stop, or as Dean added, "At least, not as often."

Dean looked over at Sam whose feet were tapping to the beat of the music. "Why don't you go out there and dance, Sammy?"

Sam laughed. "I don't think so. I'm not one for dancing."

"Well your body seems to think you are." Dean countered, moving his eyes up and down Sam's figure.

Sam blushed. "Dean, I hate when you do that."

"Why? Does it turn you on?"

"You know it does, Dean," Sam said sharply. "But you know what we promised."

Dean nodded and took a sip of his drink. "Yeah, but I also know there's a decent-sized closet in the hallway." He leaned a bit closer to Sam. "Third door on the right," he whispered.

"At our parents wedding? You're disgusting, Dean."

Dean set his glass down and stood up, straightening his suit. "You coming or not?" He asked.

Sam bit his lip, then answered. "Yeah, I'm coming."