A/N: A little Wincest drabble for my Sammy! *throws Darren Criss* This whole idea basically stemmed from my various arguments on coke vs. diet coke (I'm 100% on the coke side) with my family and friends. I thought it would suit Dean and Sam so this is what happened!

Hope y'all enjoy it! Reviews would be lovely!

Anything is Better than Cancer in a Can

"Something to drink?"

The waitress batted her long black eyelashes at Dean, playing with an auburn curl as she awaited their orders. Sam rolled his eyes, pinning Dean with Bitch Face #647567.

"I'll have a coke please, sweetheart," Dean said charmingly, causing the pin-up waitress to giggle as she scribbled down his order. Then she turned to Sam a little less enthusiastically.

"And you, hun?" she asked sweetly, her smile fake and smeared in red lipstick.

"Diet coke, thanks," Sam answered politely. She nodded, shot a wink at Dean and then sauntered over to the kitchens. Sam peered at Dean who was suddenly staring at him as if he had just announced his pregnancy, jaw on the table.

"Diet coke, Sam? What the hell?" Dean exclaimed offensively, voice laced with disgust and betrayal as if Sam had personally scandalized him. He raised an eyebrow, eyeing his brother wearily.

"What's wrong with diet coke?" he asked in confusion. Dean threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly.

"'What's wro-' EVERYTHING!" Dean shot him a dangerous look, Sam taken aback at his older brother's unnecessary dramatics. "You've gotta be shitting me Sammy, diet coke is for chicks!"

"I can drink diet coke if I want to, Dean," Sam argued, eye twitching in irritation. They stared each other down, neither one blinking as their waitress dropped off their beverages and scurried away in fright.

"At least I won't get fat," Sam added haughtily, gesturing to Dean's fizzing coke with his chin. Dean gasped, clutching his heart in offence.

"Did you just call me fat?" he asked incredulously. Sam merely smirked. Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously, cocking his head as he stared down his baby brother.

"This means war," he murmured darkly, causing Sam to gulp audibly and mentally panic. Dean took a long swig of his fizzing coke, slamming it down on the table after with a satisfied sigh.

"You know what, Sam? That's okay," Dean began calmly. "I'd rather be fat than die of cancer."

Sam scoffed.

"Are you sober?"

"Yep. That, sir…" Dean gestured vaguely at Sam's drink. "…is cancer in a can."

Sam actually burst into laughter, causing Dean to cross his arms over the table sternly. He wiped away a mirthful tear.

"The amount of aspartame in this glass won't kill me, Dean," Sam told him triumphantly. Dean simply glared at him.

"I ain't taking that chance," he responded simply, waving their waitress over. She looked lethargic and mightily creeped out.

"Could you please take that garbage away and bring him a coke instead?" Dean asked her, pointing at the damned glass of diet coke. Sam's jaw dropped. This had gone too far.

"Miss, please don't listen to my brother, he has some lame notion that diet coke will kill me." Sam gave Dean a pointed glare. Their waitress, whose name they were still not aware of and were too focused on their beverage battle to care anyway, fidgeted uncomfortably unsure of which man to obey.

"Listen lady," Dean began in a low, chilling voice. "If you don't take that crap away from my baby brother right now and replace it with an option that won't possibly kill him, I promise you that some serious shit will go down and it won't be pretty."

The poor woman squeaked out an 'of course, sir' and snatched the diet coke away before Sam could object again, and literally sprinted back to the kitchens, in six inch heels no less. Dean nodded in satisfaction, and then turned back to Sam smiling obnoxiously at him.

"What am I going to do with you, Dean?" Sam groaned in defeat, banging his head back on the hard bench. Dean merely grinned.

"Anything is better than cancer in a can, Sammy," he said cheerfully.

"Why do I put up with you?" Sam questioned himself for the millionth time, rolling his eyes and flailing his arms a little.

"Because you looooove me," Dean cooed with a wink. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly. There was a light blush spreading across his defined cheekbones.

"What's so great about coke anyway?" he mumbled.

Dean choked on the coke he was currently sipping, swallowing with difficulty.

"Sam, don't tell me that you actually don't like coke," Dean warned. Sam shrugged indifferently.

"Sorry, but I don't. It's too sweet and it makes me feel like my teeth are melting," he replied with a slight shudder.

"But it's delicious!" Dean protested, looking wounded. But then a mysterious glint appeared in his gorgeous emerald eyes and a smirk made its way onto his handsome face as he abruptly stood up. Sam shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, Dean, what're you doing?" He asked his older brother cautiously.

"I know how to make you like coke," Dean murmured seductively, the smirk on his face predatory and feral as he slid in beside Sam. He quickly took a small sip of his coke but didn't swallow.

"Dean, I swear, what-"

And then Sam's confused ramble was cut off by Dean's mouth covering his. Sam made a startled noise in the back of his throat that quickly turned into a quiet moan as Dean's tongue slipped in between the seam of Sam's lips, making him open up. The sweet, fizzy taste of coke invaded his mouth as well as the unique, familiar taste that was Dean. It made Sam's head spin and body heat up in ecstasy.

Dean's warm hands snaked around Sam's waist, crushing their bodies together as they made-out fiercely in the booth.

They broke apart for a minute, panting slightly as they rested their foreheads together. Dean grinned wickedly at his younger brother.

"So what do you think now, Sammy?" he asked huskily.

"You're ridiculous," Sam responded fondly, chuckling at Dean's antics. Dean pecked him on the forehead in a surprisingly gentle gesture.

"But you love it," Dean told him with a blinding grin before diving in to reclaim Sam's lips. They couldn't care less that they were in a sketchy little diner and people would probably notice.

Their red-headed waitress, whose name happened to be Belinda, was making her way cautiously to their table with Sam's coke in hand when she spotted them making out quite heatedly in the right side of the booth. Her chocolate brown eyes widened in pure, unadulterated shock as she gaped openly at the oblivious couple.

But, I swear they said they were brothers?

"Okay, well I guess they don't need this anymore," she muttered awkwardly.

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.

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The End.

Moral of the story: Coke always wins.