Picnics Are For Girls

Sam looked out the window of the Impala. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. It was the perfect day for…

"Dean, let's go on a picnic." Sam said, still staring out the window as they came into a small town. There was bound to be a park around here somewhere.

"The fuck?" Dean said blankly before turning to Sam. "We are not going on a picnic."

"Why not? It's a nice day, and the hunt isn't really that bad. The pixies haven't killed anyone, just scared a few little kids." Sam tried to compromise.

"Still, doesn't mean we're going on a picnic. We could do something much more productive. Like, go to a bar or fuck. Hey, you could wash the Impala."

"Haha, no. We're going on a picnic." Sam said, finally turning to look at Dean.

"You can't make me." Dean said.

Sam just smirked.

Dean groaned. How the hell did Sam get him to come to the park? With a freaking picnic basket.

Then Sam bent over to lay down the blanket and Dean caught sight of a jean-clad ass. Oh, yeah. That's how.

"Jeez, Sammy. Picnicking. This is a new level of gay. Even for you." Dean said, dropping the basket of food and laying on the blanket.

"Whatever, Dean. There's nothing wrong with going on a picnic." Sam said as he began pulling out the food. And, wow, there was fucking barbecued chicken wings. Maybe, picnics weren't terrible.

"Sure, when you're a girl," Dean said, opening an eye," And I know that neither of us are girls."

"Shut up, Dean." And God, Sam was blushing. Just a little, but it was visible." What do you want to eat?"

"Gimme the chicken, bitch."

"Jerk."

"Me off."

"Been there, done that. Not too exciting." Sam smirked while Dean glared.

"Because you're such a fucking prize." Dean responded. Sam just grinned that dopey little grin he does.

Then, it began to rain.

"Ah, fuck!" Sam exclaimed as he hurriedly tried to save the food. Dean helped; he ate chicken as Sam scrambled to put everything back into the basket.

When Sam had their food (what was left of it) and the soaking blanket, they walked back to the Impala where Sam said," Jesus, Dean. Our picnic is ruined."

"Yeah, first, your picnic. And second, I told you it was a bad idea. And third, is there any chicken left?" Dean asked as he started up the car.

Sam pouted and pushed the basket toward Dean.

"It wasn't a bad idea," he mumbled.

"Whatever, dude."Dean said, biting into a brownie, because, damn it, there was no chicken left."We can go back to the room and have some fun."

"We already did that." Sam sighed, looking out the window at the pouring rain.

"I was talking about watching porn."

"God, just shut up."

And Dean laughed. He knew a picnic was a bad fucking idea. Dude, way to girly.