Old E/O Challenge. Word THERMOMETER. A little story about why Dean really hates hospitals. Wee!chester.

WARNING: Yes, there is one. This little fic concerns a special type of thermometer (don't want to give anything away) as well as implied partial nudity. If you're easily offended, don't read. If you do anyway, don't complain.

I can thank my mom for this one.

Dean is around eleven years old.

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Dean hated hospitals. It was too clean, doctors constantly poked and prodded, and it smelled of old people.

Stupid fever. That's what he had to blame for his dad dragging him into the nearest clinic.

"Alright, Dean," his doctor said, "Let's check that temperature. Pull down your pants, please."

Dean blinked. "Sorry, but I don't swing that way."

John was adamant though, shoving Dean onto his stomach and yanking down his jeans. "He's all yours, doc.

"This might hurt a bit, Dean," the doctor said, disappearing from view with a thermometer.

"Hey! Where're you sticking that? What're you—GOD DAMN!!"

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Yeah, that'll do it. ;)

Not as much as I wanted, but 100 words is 100 words. Hope it's still okay.