Dean held up the letterman's jacket, his brow raised, half in disgust, half amusement, "You kinky bastard, well if I have to wear this then you have to be a cheerleader-"
"I am not gonna we-"
"Male cheerleader," Dean didn't want to see Sam in a skirt anymore than his brother wanted to wear one, but, "I want to see those pompoms."
"You're serious?"
"Deadly…gimme a D."
"Dean…"
"Uh, uh Sammy, you gotta spell it out first."
Sam rolled his eyes, and then as flatly as possible, "Dean, Dean he's our man, if he can't do it, no one can."
"I gotta say, not feeling the love. You won't make cheer captain with that attitude."
"Bite me," immediately wishing he'd said something else, he quickly added, "Don't even think about it."
Dean smirked.
--end--