Disclaimer: I own nothing but a warped imagination and a strange sense of humour.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, most of you probably won't find this funny, but I chuckled like nobody's business whilst writing it.

It had been a week since the incident with the laptop and nothing remotely strange had gone on…well nothing that could be considered strange by their standards. They'd just solved a case a day ago and were on their way to Miami, Florida. Dean was sat in the driver's seat, one arm lent on the open window as they cruised down the deserted road. Sam was sat in the passenger's seat, window wide open and curtains blowing in the breeze. He shifted uncomfortably against the leather seats. Shit he was hot.

They'd been driving for around an hour when Sam complained of leg cramp, so Dean being the considerate older brother, pulled over at the side of the road to allow Sam to stretch his legs. After a short break they returned to the car and started their drive. 15 minutes later Sam was hungry, so once more Dean pulled over. This went on for some time and soon Dean was pissed. So pissed in fact that he'd considered strapping Sam to the top of the car like some sort of wigged surfboard just so he wouldn't have to listen to his complaints.

Dean grumbled, "What, again?" he asked loudly. They'd only been back on the road again half an hour after Sam had decided the tenth pit stop was necessary, only then he claimed he was desperate to pee and threatened to relieve himself inside the car if Dean didn't pull over. Of course that got Dean's attention and he stopped the car immediately, only to be annoyed when Sam smugly told him he didn't need to relieve himself and was just in fact too hot sitting on the leather seats. "Dude, we've literally just started driving again and I'm not falling for the 'busting to pee' line again, so don't bother trying it."

"I wasn't going to say that, I know you're gullible but even you wouldn't fall for it twice, but can we please stop at the next gas station or something." Dean shook his head, not even bothering to look over at his brother or even considering stopping the car.

"Look, this will be the last stop, I promise. I just want to change in a gas station restroom then I swear I won't complain again."

Dean continued to shake his head, "Nope, and complain all you want. All I need to do is stick in Metallica and turn it way up, then your whiney little voice will become nothing."

"You do that and I swear I'll pee in this car." Dean remained silent. "Please, just this one last time, then I won't ask to stop again and I won't say another word till we get to the next stop unless you give me permission to speak."

2 gas stations later they finally pulled in. Sam had constantly whined about stopping while Dean stuck in Metallica and turned it up loud to block out the sound, only for Sam to try and control the steering wheel himself, the crazy driving almost landing them in a cactus. The music was promptly turned off and Dean lectured Sam about the many ways he'd torture him if his precious Impala came to any harm from Sam's 'crazy person' actions. Dean had barely stopped when Sam jumped out of the car, did two squats to loosen up his legs (much to Dean's horror and mild disgust), then sauntered off for the Gas Station restroom.

Dean stepped out the car, leaning casually against the bonnet whilst looking around. The sun was blaring brightly in the sky, causing a thin layer of sweat to form on his forehead. Sam seemed to be taking forever, so Dean decided it would be best to fill up on Gas and snack supplies – Sam would have no excuse to stop then. Dean came from the Gas Station and dumped the snack foods on the back seat before leaning back against the car door. He was considering marching to the bathrooms to find out what was going on, but the slamming of the heavy restroom door let him know there was no need.

Dean looked up and gawped as Sam emerged from the Gas Station restroom, dressed in ¾ length tan cargo pants, his legs on show and his leg hair. Dean's eyes widened in horror as he scanned his brother up and down. "Dude," he said, the rest of his words failing to form as he backed away from his encroaching brother, shaking his head vigorously from side to side. "What the—since when have you owned them?" he questioned, pointing towards Sam's pant choice in disgust/horror.

"I don't remember, I guess I must have bought them ages ago and forget I had them. They're honestly a life saver." He said gratefully, tugging slightly at the material.

"Yeah and you'll soon find out they're also a female repellent." Dean scrunched his nose up and turned around, not wanting to look at his brother any longer, only to be met with Sam's reflection in the cars shiny surface. "Argh," Dean yelled, holding his arms up over his eyes. Dean remained with his arms over his eyes until he heard the passenger's side door shut. He removed his face cover and got in.

As they set off again, the sun shining brightly in the sky, Dean started to notice exactly how almost unbearably hot it was. Despite the open window he could feel his t-shirt sticking to his skin, pressed up against the leather of the seats. His jeans were feeling uncomfortable – he was near sure there would be chafing. He fidgeted slightly so that Sam wouldn't notice. Damn he was right, it was really hot. However, he would not subject himself to shorts, he had a reputation to uphold, unlike his younger brother.

Around three hours later they arrived at their destination; Miami, Florida. The sun bleared down harder than ever as Dean pulled the Impala into the last parking spot in the car park of yet another crappy motel. He would have complained but he was too thankful that he hadn't had to drive around looking for somewhere else to park, somewhere further away that would have required lots of walking and chafing.

He turned off the engine and removed his keys from the ignition before getting out. Sam followed suit, his locks blowing slightly in the breeze whilst he examined his surroundings with what Dean could only describe as a 'pouty' look. Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably before quickly walking towards the motels reception. He could hear Sam scurrying behind him and judging by a yelp, he figured his brother nearly had, or had just tripped over. He didn't bother checking, all he wanted was to get Sam away from public eyes as quickly as possible.

The door dinged as Dean entered. The man sat behind the desk didn't look up or acknowledge Dean's presence. He looked as if he was ready to stick his head in the microwave. He was slouched forward, head rested on his hand as he looked glumly down at the wooden surface. "One twin," Dean said as he approached the desk. The man raised his eyes, a bored expression on his face. He swivelled on the chair to face the computer.

"How long for?" He drawled out before yawning, his mouth opening wider than Dean had seen anyone's mouth open before.

He shook his head, "I don't know yet," the door dinged once more and Dean shuddered.

The man looked away from the computer and back to Dean, "You and your," he paused, "friend? Can just pay each day you're here."

"He's my brother." Dean said, giving an awkward smile.

"I don't care." The man grumbled. He collected their details quickly and typed them into the computer before handing Dean the key to room 35. Dean muttered a quick ' thank you' before ushering Sam out the door and quickly towards their room.

"Dean, quit pushing me!" Sam scolded as he attempted to free himself from Dean's hands which were shoving rather hard into his shoulder blades. Sam pushed his heels towards the ground, causing him to flail forward as Dean continued to shove him. "What's the matter with you Dean?!" Sam turned to face his brother who was looking around frantically.

"What's the matter with me? I'll tell you what." He cast his eyes towards Sam's shorts. "Those are what's the matter. Now quickly get inside before people start looking." He stepped forward and turned Sam round, shoving him once more. Sam rubbed his arm whilst Dean unlocked the door, still continuing to look around.

"You know, you acting suspicious is the only thing that's going to attract attention."

"No, what's going to attract attention is you dressed like that, now get inside before people start thinking I've just hired a rent boy." His voice was low, his eyes still darting around to make sure there was no passers-by were staring.

Sam rolled his eyes and entered their room, closely followed by Dean who quickly shut the door then drew the curtains. Sam was going to ask what Dean's problem was, but his brother was already sprawled out on his bed and snoring away before Sam could even complain about being hustled into a motel room.

The next morning Sam woke to find Dean already gone, he figured he'd gone to get breakfast and collect some information about their potential case, either that or he was at some bar trying to pick up some females. He kicked off the thin covers, suddenly becoming aware of exactly how hot he was. He got out of bed and went over to his satchel to get his towel and toiletries, intending to take a long cool shower. He opened his satchel to find it seemed a lot more packed than the last time he'd opened it. He removed the towel and toiletries, his eyes widening as he stared at the contents of the bottom of his satchel. Tan camouflage cargo pants. Tight grey V-neck t-shirt and best of all.

Brown flip-flops.

A smiled tugged on the corner of his lips as he carefully picked up the footwear as if they were about to dissolve in his hands like a desert oasis.

"This isn't possible," he whispered to himself as he caressed the shoes, his eyes briefly scanning the room to check Dean wasn't hiding somewhere and playing a cruel joke on him. After a few moments of wondering what the hell was going on, he decided to just accept their presence. He quickly bundled together his new items along with his towel and toiletries before retreating to the bathroom and locking the door tightly behind him.

Dean was hot. No, not hot. He was actually melting. He'd woke around 5:00am in sweats, his clothes sticking to his skin, and decided he needed to go somewhere cool, somewhere that had air-conditioning. That's how he ended up here, in a small 50's style diner on the beach front. He was contently lounging against the red leather of the booth seats, the cool air from the grates in the roof blowing on his face as he drank his coffee and ate possibly the most delicious sandwich he'd ever tasted.

After around two hours of sitting happily under the gust of the air-conditioning, he decided it was probably best he left. Sam would be worried where he was and the owner of the diner kept glaring at him from behind the counter for taking so long eating his sandwich and drinking his coffee. He paid for his meal, leaving a tip which he told the woman was "for the air" as he pointed towards the ceiling before leaving the shop.

The walk back to the motel room was slow, his trousers were rubbing uncomfortably against his thighs and he was pretty sure he was starting to look like John Wayne. By the time he reached their motel room he was certain he was on the verge of death. He breathed a sigh of relief as he walked through the door. The room was empty, but he could hear running water coming from the bathroom.

"Shit," he muttered, realising he'd forgotten to get Sam something for breakfast. "Sammy, I kind of forgot your breakfast, I'm going to get it!" he called, groaning inwardly before turning and leaving the room.

"Dean, wait up!" Dean was halfway across the parking lot when his brother called loudly from behind him. Dean turned to see what his brother wanted, but immediately wished he'd just ran and never looked back.

"I'll come with you." Sam said, jogging towards his brother.

Dean felt his heart stop as it jumped into his throat, his stomach churning unpleasantly as his eyes felt as if they were burning. There before him was Sam, but not the Sam Dean was used to seeing. His longish locks were tied at the nape of his neck in a ponytail, the ends flicking out slightly. His once dorky t-shirt had been replaced with an overly tight grey one which contained a v-shaped neckline that reached to the centre of his chest. The plain cargo pants hadn't been enough and were now replaced with tan camouflaged cargo pants and the plain old boring sneakers were gone. That's right, the dog crap brown sandals were back in business.

"This has got to be a nightmare, wake up Dean," he said slapping himself across the face, "wake up Dean," he closed his eyes tightly and slapped his face again. After a few seconds he opened his eyes, a distressed look forming on his face. "What man? Why?" he whined in an almost childish manor pointing towards his brother.

"Dean," Sam said, taking a step forward only to have Dean take three steps back, "We're in Florida, the weather's boiling, everyone wears this kind of stuff." He gestured towards his outfit.

"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head vigorously like a child refusing to eat his vegetables. "everyone doesn't wear that!" he pointed his brother up and down. "I swear you go out of your way to embarrass me as much as possible." His eyes darted from side to side as he turned his head, looking to see if anyone was watching or staring.

"Dean, I'm not trying to embarrass you. It's hot, this outfit's comfortable, that's all." Sam insisted, hoping his brother would see reason and stop making such a big deal out of it.

"Well I'm hot and you don't see my prancing around like that, do you?" Dean retorted, pointing his brother up and down again before casting his eyes around the area once more.

"Dean, will you quit with that look, people have more interesting and important things to do than watch us argue over what I'm wearing!" Sam furrowed his brows, his lips pursing together in frustration.

"Will you keep your voice down, you're attracting attention." Dean near pleaded, his eyes wide and panicky.

"Attention, from who exactly?" Sam looked shiftily around, wondering if he wasn't exactly seeing who his brother was seeing.

Dean looked around, noticing there was no one anywhere to be seen, "Uh…um…Squirrels?" he suggested.

"Squirrels? Seriously?" Sam questioned, quirking an eyebrow at his brother.

Dean looked annoyed before shaking his head then storming off down the street. Sam chuckled to himself and followed behind.

"Dude, hang back." Dean said, strutting in a rather manly fashion while casting a look over his shoulder to judge the distance between himself and his brother.

"I should be telling you to hang back, you smell like a foot." Sam commented rather loudly, casting a filthy look at the back of his brothers head. Dean suddenly stopped and turned to glare at Sam.

"I may smell like a foot, but at least I'm a manly foot!" Dean shouted, jabbing his finger in Sam's direction. Sam snorted loudly before bursting into laughter and continuing in the direction they were heading. They continued down the road in silence, Dean hanging a good number of steps behind Sam, looking in every direction possible except at his brother. Each time Sam stopped, Dean would too, turning around to avoid any form of eye contact that would let people know they knew each other.

After three failed attempts to get his brother's attention, Sam decided to give up and quickened his pace. He'd only walked around 2 blocks before he started to feel the negative side effect to wearing flip-flops in hot weather. Chafing between his toes. He cast his eyes ahead, noticing a clothing store a few doors away.

"Dean, I need to go in this store a minute, you go ahead and get some breakfast, I'll meet you back here." He said loudly, not turning round to look at his brother or wait for any form of acknowledgement. As Sam veered off, Dean continued walking towards the diner. Inside he ordered his brothers breakfast to go and some extra breakfast for himself. He deserved it, after all he'd been through a lot of trauma recently in relation to his brothers attire of choice.

As he waited for his ordered he took full advantage of the air-conditioning, standing under it and sighing loudly as it cooled the sweat and dried out his clothes. Sam was right, he did smell pretty bad. After five minutes of waiting and some peculiar looks from the diner's owner, he headed out, two breakfast in hand. As he approached the store his brother had entered, his spotted Sam's partained locks through the window and quickened his pace, swiftly passing the door as it began to open.

He didn't look back, just kept going down the street, almost tripping over a broken slate in the pavement and earning chuckles from behind him. He was almost back at the motel parking lot when Sam called his name loudly. "Hey Dean, wait up a minute." He contemplated continuing but he couldn't ignore Sam forever. Dressed like an idiot or not, the guy was still his kid brother. Dean stopped and turned, immediately regretting not walking on.

"You've got ninja toes." Dean said, his gaze of horror fixed firmly on his brothers feet. He'd thought things couldn't get any worse after the brown flip-flops returned, how wrong he was. "Girl sandals are bad enough, never mind girl sandals and white socks."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I'm dressed, it's perfectly normal." Sam stated in a matter-of-fact tone, signalling towards his outfit whilst approached Dean slowly.

"Have you been smoking something, what you're wearing is anything but normal." Dean informed him, tugging at his hair slightly in frustration. Sam pouted and shook his head, folding his arms tightly across his chest. Dean could feel the perspiration on his own forehead, and he was sure as hell it wasn't from the blistering heat. His mind was working overtime, convincing him that people were staring, that Sam was attracting attention and that all the hot chicks thought he was gay.

"Dean, would you just calm down for a minute." Sam held his hands up in what Dean suspected was supposed to be a reassuring fashion.

"Calm down? Calm down? You're standing there looking like a holiday paedophile and you want me to calm down?!" He signalled to his brother, turning his head in despair and wondering why things like that had to happen to him.

"Dean, you're acting crazy." Sam tried to reason, but he knew it was no use. Dean was clearly frustrated and extremely wound up.

"I'm acting crazy?!" Dean shouted, throwing his hands up in frustration, "This coming from the guy who's dressed like that in public!" He yelled before heading in the direction of the motel car park. He could hear Sam's flip-flops flapping against the pavement behind him. This time he didn't stop, he knew what was following him and he knew why.

Dean approached the door of their motel room, unlocking it and quickly shoving it open. He headed for his bed as Sam entered the room and shut the door behind him. "That does it, we're going to see Bobby, this isn't normal. You're girl bag's possessed or something!" Dean shouted, pointing at Sam's satchel as if it were the devil himself.

"A possessed bag? Are you serious Dean?" Sam questioned, quirking an eyebrow in the direction of his Satchel and wondering if the heat was getting to Dean that much that he was having hallucinations.

"Yeah too right I'm serious. You want something then all of a sudden it appears in the bottom of your handbag."

"It's a satchel. And I doubt they just appeared, I guess I bought them and forgot about it." Sam informed him, tugging at the material of his cargo pants.

Dean shook his head vigorously whilst pointing towards Sam's feet. "Nope, me and Bobby burnt them." He jabbed his finger at the flip-flops again. "I know for a fact they're were long gone."

Dean was fed up, things had reached what he considered to be the limit. Cargo pants he could deal with, even the tight shirt and the ponytail, but the flip-flops and flip-flops combined with white socks, no way.

Sam Started muttering something but Dean wasn't listening, he was too busy quickly shoving all his belongings into his duffel bag. He wanted to get away from here, away from the heat and the judgemental looks. Sam soon stopped his muttering and packed away his belongings, making a 'humph' noise with every item he put into his satchel.

They were soon all packed up and left the motel room, Dean locking the door behind him before striding over to the reception area. The bell dinged as he entered and much to his horror it went off again as he approached the desk, letting him know Sam had followed. He quickly slammed his hand down on the bell on the top of the counter. The owner came from the back room, looking Sam up and down before shaking his head and muttering something that Dean was sure sounded like 'Fairy's' under his breath.

"Did you and your friend find the room okay?" he asked in a mocking tone, giving a small snort when Dean glared.

"He's my brother." Dean stated, slamming the key down onto the countertop, before starting to turn towards the door

"Yeah, right…" the man scoffed, turning to put the key back with the others.

"Actually, your room freaking sucked." Dean shouted, turning to point at the man before turning back to his brother and shoving him out the door before storming out himself, slamming it hard behind him on the man and his laughter.

"Dean?" Sam called as he tried to jog after his brother who was storming towards where the Impala was parked. Dean ignored him, fishing his keys out of his jacket pocket and jamming them into the car lock. "Dean?" Sam called again, standing round the passenger's side. Again he was ignored as Dean got into the car and slammed the door. Sam followed suit, slumping into the passenger's seat as Dean jammed the key into the ignition. "Dean?" Sam repeated once more

"What?!" Dean shouted, slamming his hands hard against the steering wheel. "What is it Sammy?!"

"Why are you letting that guy get to you?" Sam questioned in a motherly tone, his face filled with concern as he witnessed his brother practically tugging at his hair in what he suspected to be frustration.

"He's not getting to me." Dean said abruptly, pulling on his seat belt.

Sam did the same, "He obviously is, look at the way you're acting."

"He's not getting to me Sammy, because you are!" Dean snapped. Sam's mouth dropped open. "You seem to go out of your way to make me feel as uncomfortable as possible."

"What?!" Sam shouted, his brows furrowing. "I've got better things to do than make you feel uncomfortable."

"Yeah? Well why don't you act like it and start dressing like a normal human being!" Dean snapped, starting up the car and pulling out the parking lot so fast he almost crashed into a van. Sam screamed like a girl, and Dean flipped the van's driver off before taking off down the road, leaving the sound of beeping horns far behind them.

Thanks for reading!