A/N: Just a little random thing given to me by some very wonderful people. I tried my best within a half hour, I could have worked on it more... But I have to go to sleep soon.

He found it by accident.

Okay, maybe not by accident. Maybe he was curious as to what Sam had been hiding from him lately. With all of the running around with Ruby, and angels wanting to kill his little brother for no apparent reason, he wanted some answers.

However, this wasn't exactly the assumption he had made.

There, held in his hand, was a magazine-like packet filled with pictures of his little brother... advertising men's shampoo and conditioner; two in one.

~Flashback~

"Excuse me Mr. Vinchester," Gaston, the photographer, called from over on top of his small podium/stool. "Would you please flip your hair in ze other direction?" Taking directions was no small feat, being the youngest of his family, but this was a whole different ball game compared to hunting and gambling. He stood proud and tall, shirtless and facing the camera, at his brand new job, which he slightly regretfully left Stanford for.

Hair product modeling.

For him, it was an easy get-up. People just seemed to love his hair, and it didn't require a scholarship or a high school diploma. He could make fast and easy money for something he does on a regular basis. However, he'd only been two weeks into the job, so everyone treated him like the rookie he was. Gaston had been very gracious once he'd gotten the hang of it, apparently he held some sort of "natural talent" for the way his hair lays across the sides of his face and forehead. Honestly, that's just the work of gravity. No talent involved.

Luckily, because of that, he knew he'd be working this job for the rest of his "college" career.

"Very good Sam, now ve must vait for ze finished product," His photographer flourished a glittering scarf with a smile and a wink.

Whole different ball game, indeed.

~Flashback end~

There was a piece of fabric that had laid on top of the pictures he'd found in Sam's duffel, some sparkly, girly thing. He'd passed it off as something that maybe his little brother had a strange fetish for (which he could then tease him about), or maybe it's something that Jessica once had, or even it'd been his "baby blanket" from when Dean was in hell.

But now, he saw that it was a scarf. Not very long, and it smelled vaguely of Sam and another man's cologne or shampoo. He knew it was another man's scent, because he was the one who buys all of the soap, shampoo, conditioner, and aftershave. Nothing smelled like that.

So, he sat there, trying to figure out what his little brother had done while they were apart a few years ago. Within a few seconds, it hit him like a brick wall. From sitting on his motel room bed, he twisted his head sharply to the left and shouted at the bathroom where Sam was currently showering, probably reminiscing.

"What the fuCK HAPPENED TO STANFORD?!"

Fin.