"Dude, how the hell did I get sunburned?" Dean muttered, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower.
Sam shook his head at Dean's pink-tinged skin. "I told you to reapply the sunscreen."
"I did!" Dean grabbed two beers from the fridge, offering one to Sam. He twisted off the cap and took a long drink.
"Oh. Well…sorry. I guess you're just really unlucky."
Dean shot the bottle cap into the garbage. "Unlucky—yeah, I guess that's the word for it."
Sam settled back on the bed and stretched out, relaxed and momentarily at peace. "Thanks, man."
A/N: And there you have it, folks. I apologize profusely for the long delay in getting to the end of this one. The muse simply pooped out on me for a time.