Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I am making no profit from this fanfiction. It is purely for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: This fic was inspired by a tweet from Jared Padalecki. Saxx tweeted and asked him how he liked the underwear they sent him, and he used the words "I am wearing them right now. #canyousaycomfy"

A/N 2: Dedicated to Zela Morre, who saw Jared's tweet and decided Supernatural fandom should have a meme involving the phrases "I am wearing them right now," and "Can you say comfy?"

Summary: Takes place after 9x12. Funny little fix-it fic. Sam's bad mood and horrible attitude were actually really easy to fix, in the end. All he needed was an upgrade to part of his wardrobe.

The diner was actually pretty nice. It was perfect for letting in sunlight at all hours of the day, very clean, smelled like food that actually looked and tasted just as great as it smelled. And for once that was not sarcasm!

Dean looked over at Sam, glancing him over slowly, assessing him, as they sat there. He was a little surprised, but glad, that Sam had agreed to meet him at all, but the mood Sam was in...wow. Dean was sure it meant his little brother had taken his advice.

He hadn't seen Sammy smile like that, so easy and carefree and full of sunshine, in years. And the cordial and sweet, but not flirtatious, way that he'd acted with their waitress? He hadn't seen his little brother like this, so at ease and happy, since...well, hell, since possibly before the whole Lucifer thing.

Not that Sam had had a habit of being flirtatious with waitresses. But, he used to be friendly and sweet with them, managing an attitude that allowed that and yet still made it clear that he wasn't some douchebag just trying to get their number. Like Dean. After the whole Apocalypse thing, and then all the shit they'd been running into since then? Sam had been...well, aloof would've been a nice way of putting it. He hadn't been mean, but any given waitress might have been lucky if Sam even looked at her beyond a quick, barely-there and totally-not-interested flick of his eyes upward and then down again, no smile in sight, light in his eyes gone.

Right now? It was like he had Sam: The College Years back again.

"So…" Dean said, a bit of hesitation present in his tone just in case remembering that Dean was here and sitting across from him might put Sam off again.

Sam looked up from the paper he was reading and smiled, though, "Yeah, Dean?"

Dean smiled, too, relaxing a bit, "You take my advice?"

Sam blushed and ducked his head, hair falling forward slightly as he looked around a bit to see if anyone was listening, "Dean, seriously? We're gonna talk about this in a diner?"

As if they didn't talk about weirder things in diners all the time.

"Yeah, why not? C'mon, Sam. You got 'em on or not?" Dean asked, leaning back in his seat, practically draping himself over the back of it and splaying his arms along the back, getting comfortable, and rolling his eyes.

"Yes, okay? I'm wearing them right now." Sam's blush deepened and so did Dean's grin.

"Ha. I knew it. So what's the verdict?" Dean's smug look said he already knew.

"Dude. Seriously, I didn't believe you, but man…"

"Yeah?" Dean asked, grin turning almost sly if Sam didn't know any better.

"Yeah, I mean...can you say comfy? Wow…"

"Yep, that's Saxx. Big enough for our-"

"Dean!"

"What? S'true."

"Let's just talk about the case instead of my underwear, okay?" Sam asked, tone heading toward bitchface territory, along with his face.

Dean took no heed, though. This was the bitchtone and bitchface of old, the ones Sam gave him that weren't charged with anything too serious aside from general disapproval.

"I'm just sayin...roomy, perfect material...and NO bunching."

"Dean!"

End