Sam and Dean aren't mine. Plot and all else are.
Just came to me out of the blue! Enjoy!
"Come on Sam!"
"What big brother, I'm too good for you," Sam said trying to get Dean in a fit.
Sam and Dean were passing through a little town in the middle of nowhere when they saw a basketball court and a ball. What a perfect chance for two hunters to unwind. They had gotten out of the car and started playing. So far the little kid that was keeping track of the score on the sidelines said that it was 5 to 2. Sam was winning. But of course Dean wouldn't admit that and said that Sam was winning because the kid liked him better.
"No! Of course not! I can beat you any day! I just am…. tired today."
"Really," Sam asked amused, as he dribbled down court and made a lay-up, "What's that, 6 to 2?"
Sam passed the ball to Dean.
"Loser's ball. Come on Deanie-Poo. Just because I'm a little bit taller."
"A little? Sam, you're a friggin' giant."
Dean dribbled down the court as Sam played defense.
"Yeah, well it helps me beat you."
"Ok. Whatever," Dean said as he shot and scored, "Now who's winning?"
"May I remind you the score is still 6 to 3, me. I'm winning buddy."
Sam got the ball and started playing offense as he went down court.
"Man you really should go pro at this thing and not killing off urban legends."
"Because, authors and directors won't be too pleased that all their horror characters are deceased. And not to mention, your gig would get a hell of a lot of girls."
Sam stopped dribbling.
"Is that all you can think of? Screwing around?"
Dean stood up straight. That took a turn for the worse.
Sam took his opportunity. While Dean was distracted, Sam shot and made the basket. Dean suddenly realized he'd been played.
"Kid ears Dean! Kid ears," he said amused while pointing to their score-keeper, "By the way, what's the score?"
"7 to 3, mister," the little boy shouted from the sidelines.
"See Dean? I'm the Alfa dog this time."
"Alfa dog," Dean asked as he started playing offense, "Are you comparing me to a fucking dog? Cause I swear if you are, I'll wipe that smirk right off your face, little brother."
"Ohh… That hurt," he said sarcastically, "Face it, I'm the better player."
Sam stole the ball and ran down court. He made a lay-up, before Dean even realized Sam had the ball.
"Ass," Dean muttered.