The Word: Turnips
Every once in a while, Dean's health freak of a brother would insist that they bypass the endless stream of fast food restaurants and diners in favor of an actual grocery store. Dean would bitch and moan for a minimum of three hours, only conceding once Sam pointed out that they were nearly out of beer.
This grocery store made customers walk through the fruits and vegetables before they could get to any of the good stuff. Sam looked like a kid in a candy store. A giant kid in a candy store. He blocked the entire aisle whenever he paused to look at any of the ghastly green stuff that surrounded them, holding them hostage. Dean was forced to trail along behind him as they slowly worked their way toward the real food. That doesn't mean that Dean came quietly, of course. Sam had learned to tune him out years ago, but that didn't stop the older brother from complaining about everything from the amount of healthy shit to the size of Sam's ass.
Sam paused yet again and Dean let out a loud groan, earning looks from the few other shoppers in the vicinity. Sam spared an apologetic smile for them, then went back to looking at his new discovery. "Dean, you shouldn't think about porn in the middle of a grocery store. You start making noises."
"Ha ha, you're freakin' hilarious." Dean scowled at the sign above the bin Sam was paying so much attention to. Turnips. What the hell were turnips?
Sam heaved one of his patented I-put-up-with-so-much-of-your-shit-that-I-deserve-a-freaking-medal sighs and scooted around the end of the aisle so that Dean could get past him. "Go on and get your liquid medicine. Maybe it'll keep you from being such a jerk."
Dean's smug smirk said that had been his plan all along. "Don't mind if I do." He clapped his brother on the shoulder as he passed by in search of not-so-green pastures. "Bitch," he threw over his shoulder as an afterthought. He didn't have to look back to see Sam shaking his head.