THREE HUNDRED
Chapter 2
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"Dude, you so have not got a six-pack," Sam spluttered gleefully, wiping a stray dribble of salsa dip from his chin; "you've never done a freakin' sit up in your life!"
"Oh yeah?" Indignant at the insult, Dean deposited his beer bottle on the nightstand and tugged up the hem of his T shirt, revealing a lightly muscled midriff which managed to look both slim but at the same time sturdy. Its outline was softly rounded into a tiny fledgling paunch which peeked shyly over the waistband of his jeans.
"Dude, that's not a six-pack," Sam grinned; "that's a keg."
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tbc