A/N: Okay, so I'm sick, alone, and in the mood for writing something Supernatural that isn't dripping with angst. This may be a slightly wonky start, but it's a start.

Warnings: SPOILERS for season 5. This is set anytime after 5.05: Fallen Idols. Mild swearing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Adverse Effects

"Dude. If you don't stop wolfing them down like that, you're going to asphyxiate."

"Nonsense. Who chokes on sausages these days, huh?"

"Oh, trust me. They do."

"… Whatever."

"Dean? I'm glad you stopped stuffing your face, but why are you staring at me like that?"

"I've been… thinking."

"Oh? I hope you didn't strain yourself too much."

"Very funny. The thing is, I've been thinking about… uh. Well."

"What?"

"Not sure how to put it across, ya know?"

"Spit it. Easy, fast and dirty."

"Okay. AIDS."

"What? Dean, is this –?"

"No, no, dumbass. Besides, I'm always careful."

"Minnesota. 1999. Kate Stevens."

"… Dude. That was low. And wherever Dr. Jackson is, I hope he's happy for betraying a patient's confidence."

"Don't blame the doctor. Just my observation skills. At least I didn't tell Dad."

"Shut up. Anyway, onto the subject: not just AIDS, man. Any number of weirdass infections."

"Dean, you do realise that you aren't making any sense, right?"

"The… demon blood, Sammy. That's what I'm talking about."

"I… uh. I don't –"

"So I'm thinking, you're drinking it in, right? Who knows what other kind of crap is floating around inside that bitch's body? For all you know, you might get some creepy disease that has you oozing all over the place. Or – "

"Dean –"

"What?"

"I… I don't know, man. I can't… can't believe we're having this conversation."

"Just something else that needed to be looked into. After the… uh, detox, I just… just didn't want any more bad surprises on the way."

"That… would explain the sitting up on the laptop over the past few nights."

"Life's not just about porn, Sammy."

"Dean… I'm fine. If at all I was going to get something, I would've probably got it by now."

"You never know. And god knows how many times you drank it, Sam, in how many different conditions! From how many different people! So excuse me for being just a little freaked out!"

"I'd be fine with the freaking out as long as it didn't constitute knocking orange juice all over my only clean shirt."

"Sam. Priorities. And that shirt looked pretty sucky, anyway."

"I'm… grateful for your concern, Dean, but really, I'm okay. I don't… I don't think I'm in danger of – uh."

"Maybe… maybe you should check and find out."

"What?"

"Big brother duties, Sam. Make sure all bases are covered. Like I said, we don't want unpleasant surprises for later."

"Thanks, Dean. And… sorry."

"Yeah."

"You know, back in '99? I kinda sneaked into Dr. Jackson's office and flicked a copy of your records."

"… you sly little bastard."

"Hey, I wanted to make sure you were okay, too, you know?"

"Dude. You can-not use that excuse for that situation."

"Completely honourable intentions, I swear. And I didn't even blackmail you. Much."

"Huh. Bitch."

"Jerk."

Finis