"Man, we need to find a pair of sisters or something." They were lying on their beds in strikingly similar poses, arms crosses under heads, legs bent so their knees stuck up. Dean still had his boots on, which meant he was stepping on his bed and probably getting mud all over it, but it was Dean's bed and if he wanted to sleep in a mound of dirt, he was certainly allowed.

"Seriously, Dean. What is it with you and sisters, man?"

"Naw, Sammy, think about it. One for you, one for me… maybe sometimes, they get a little naughty with each other…"

Sam chuckled. "Leave it to you to find incest hot. Is there any fetish you don't have?"

Dean considered. "Never understood the foot thing. What do you think, am I missing something?"

"You'd think I would stop asking you rhetorical questions and not expecting you to answer them."

Dean sighed benevolently. "And yet, you never learn. And people say you're the smart one." He shifted, adjusting his shoulders. "Well, I can't really bitch about all the money we spent on your education, at least."

"Could it be because I'm such a genius they let me go for free? Asshole." Dean met his eyes and grinned, and it was two-thirds delight at having irritated his brother and maybe one-third sheer pride at his Einstein of a baby brother. Sam felt himself get glowy and tried not to show it. "Besides, if I wanted to I'd use my education to tell you that from a feminine perspective, that's just an objectification fantasy involving two generic interchangeable women."

Dean frowned. "Hey, not generic. They'd be hot." Sam made bitchface, and Dean smirked. "What, you think two is redundant or something? You wanna share?"

As sometimes happened, Dean's ribald remark gave Sam pause. When he'd already hesitated just a moment too long, he hastily retorted, "Yeah, right, Dean. I'll bet being your girlfriend is a full-time job." (It didn't occur to either of them that Sam would know this better than anyone.)

"Oh, sure, because you're such a drama-free boyfriend, right? I bet Jess was always having to buy you flowers and shit, make sweet talk." Sam looked pissed again. "Man, I can see it now – the two of you making dinner in the kitchen, I'm watching the game…"

"What, I'd never get to watch the game? Geez, Dean, way to put me in the subjugated female role, even when your fantasies involve an actual subjugated female."

"Fine, fine, don't get your tits in a knot." Dean paused. "She can watch the game, too, and you can make dinner yourself. Happy?" Sam huffed but, oddly, he kind of was.

"Our girlfriend sure doesn't seem to mind your machismo."

"Of course not," Dean stated wisely. "She finds it endearing." Damn, he was tired. Might have to just sleep right now, like this.

"Christ," Sam chuckled. "I think I'm outnumbered in this relationship."

Dean turned on his side, facing Sam, eyes closed. "Don't worry Sammy," he breathed, sleep fast approaching. "I'll protect you."

Sam's eyes were closing, too. "Oh, I'm sure. As long as it doesn't involve remembering anniversaries, right?"

Dean smiled to himself, "Naw. That's your job."

Sam nodded slightly, humming assent. "And you'll do the repairs. And I'll make the money, or maybe she will, too."

"Yeah, knowing you she'll be some badass career chick, lawyer or something."

"Or maybe a cop," Sam added.

"Mmmm," Dean responded. "That's hot."

"Well, you'd better not be having sex with her all the time," Sam warned, settling into a more comfortable position himself. "I have needs too, you know."

"Relax, man, we'd work something out. We're good at sharing shit. Well, like, everything except your computer." Sam chuckled quietly, at the end of unconsciousness. "And with a laptop, only one guy can go at once." Sam snorted, eyes closed, and Dean gave a self-satisfied smile that Sam didn't see. One of them lunged forward to switch the light off (getting up was out of the question). Sam fell into sleep with the sensual fantasy of a woman between them, and Dean with amorphous but happy visions of the domesticity of their theoretical relationship.

It wasn't until the next morning when Sam though, what the fuck?