You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You both like wincest.
You: ”Wait— so you’re telling me you’ve never even been drunk, Sammy?” Dean flashed his brother a cocky grin, though he couldn’t quite hide the disbelief in his voice. His words were already slurring together a bit. “You’re like, what— 16 now? Hell, when I was that age…”
Stranger: ”When you were at that age you were also sleeping with every girl that smiled at you, Dean,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I’m just going to go and have sex with anything that walks now. You yeah, I haven’t been drunk and I’ll pass on the beer. But thanks.”
You: Dean wiggled a finger at his brother, meaning it to be menacing but mostly looking silly. “Hey. It’s-a great lifestyle choice, Sam. Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.” He pushed a spare bottle of beer towards Sam despite his response, grin growing more and more lopsided. “Or, you know, be a monk. Whatever. More for me.” He knocked back the last of his own bottle before leaning back on the hood of the Impala where they were sitting. “You’re such a dweeb.”
Stranger: ”And you’re such a jerk,” Sam muttered, glaring down at his beer. Fucking Dean and ‘great lifestyle.’ But you know what? Sam was tired of being treated like a kid. If he was expected to risk his life for his dad’s reckless mission, then they could at least start seeing him as more than a book smart kid. So if that meant he popped open the beer and swallowed the cheap shit down, then fine. Dean could deal with his drunk ass.
You: Dean eyed Sam blissfully as he chugged down the beer with as much angst as he could muster. “Not so bad, huh?” He couldn’t help the booming laughter that followed, preemptively cracking open another two beers. “Know what this means?” He clapped a hand down on Sam’s shoulder, feeling his brother’s new broad frame and muscles hiding just underneath. “You’re a real man now!”
Stranger: ”It’s disgusting,” Sam complained, shrugging Dean’s hand off of his shoulder before he could start getting addicted to his brother’s heat bleeding through the layers of his clothing. He dropped the empty bottle onto the dirt and took the second one, already feeling woozy. “Seriously, what is the point of this? You always make an ass of yourself when drunk. I just don’t see the appeal, Dean,” Sam bitched even though he took another swig then tipped his head back to enjoy the clear night sky full of stars. There were some perks, he supposed, but nothing was going to improve the taste of the beer.
You: Dean snorted and ruffled a hand through Sam’s hair, finishing his next beer before again settling onto his back. “I’m gonna let you in on a secret, little brother. There’s a— hang on, get up here. Little further up.” He tugged Sam closer to where he was lying, so they were pressed comfortably together against the windshield. “Finish that beer and then we’ll see if you’re ready for it, okay?” He elbowed Sam gently, murmuring. “Trust me.”