Dean lowered the beer bottle to better study his brother.
'You know, Sammy. I can't believe it's fifteen years to the day since I came to get you at Stanford and set off all the friggin' crap we've been through.'
Sam snorted. 'You don't want to believe it, Dean, because it was fourteen years ago, not fifteen.'
'Dude. No! I might be forty but I'm not in my dotage yet. It's fifteen!'
'Two thousand and nineteen minus two thousand and five leaves fourteen. You can't argue with numbers Dean, though I know you're more than capable.'
:
After a moment of doubt, Dean controlled the math. 'Why are you always right, geek boy? I made a mistake. Isn't a tired worn-out hunter allowed at least one!'
'You playing the pity card now?' Sam teased. 'It doesn't work with me. I know you better than you know yourself.'
'Hmm! I'm not sure if that comforts or scares me, Sammy.'
'You better keep on my good side, or I might just reveal some of your more embarrassing moments to mom. Remember that time with the twins…...!'
'You wouldn't!'
'Oh, yes I would!'
'You can be a real bitch, little brother.'
'Thanks, Dean. I learned from the best.'
:
Dean clinked his bottle against Sam's. 'So fourteen, huh?'
'Here's to fifteen,' Sam said with a smile.
'I'll drink to that.'