Dean grinned as he tore the wrapping paper – rather the deconstructed paper bag – from the present. He didn't mind that, like always, it was a porn magazine and a pack of Slim Jims. "Thanks, Sammy. It's awesome."
Sam's lips tried to turn up in a smile, but they fell again to a stoic expression and he shrugged. "Glad you like it. Should I leave you and your new book alone?" He mocked.
Dean laughed and shook his head. "I'll be fine." He reached over and squeezed his brother's shoulder. "You okay?" Dean had noticed that Sam always seemed sad on his birthday. Dean wondered if it was because he had done a 'surprise birthday' one time that had made it seem like he had forgotten Sam's.
"Ye—Yeah, of course." Sam forced the smile onto his face again. "You want to go out? We could go to an arcade—maybe a real restaurant, switch things up."
Dean nodded. He didn't particularly want to do either, but he didn't want to shoot down an idea that Sam was offering up when he looked like this. "You're buying."
Sam dragged himself to his feet and moved towards the door, blinking when he felt a shoe hit him in the back of his head.
"You might need these, Sammy. Maybe your wallet too." He slapped the folded, brown leather against Sam's chest as he walked past him to tug on his own boots.
Less than an hour later, they were wandering into a bar. Dean had found himself wanting to try to pick someone up at the arcade, and his cut-off age was certainly higher than twelve.
Sam watched his brother wander the bar, talking to chicks who were pretty and looked just tipsy enough to go home with a total stranger. Sam turned when he heard someone ask him if he needed another. He hadn't realized he'd downed the whole mug already. "Yeah, please." The younger hunter answered, turning towards the bar.
"Your boyfriend running around on you?"
"What?" Sam looked up. "He—no. He's my brother. It's his birthday."
"So why the long face?"
"It's my girlfriend's birthday."
"Wow, that's terrible. I can see why you're soul searching at the bottom of a bottle." The bartender snorted, but seemed to realize that it wasn't something to laugh about when Sam forced a chuckle and didn't look up.
"Jess-She's great. In every way. I mean, she's pretty—she's gorgeous, really. And she's smart—Stanford. She's funny, of course, and the—She smiles with this kind of crook like she knows more than she does. She's-" He glanced up at the bartender. "You should see the way she wiggles her hips when she's trying to seduce you."
"How old is she turning?"
"Twenty-six—well..." he looked down at his watch. "Twenty-six in three minutes."
He would have given her a new necklace, because she broke one a year. It was in his pocket. Just in case.