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Age 13: The past year, you had received some hand-me-down bras from the occasional woman you and your brothers ran into on your hunts. They'd look at your ripped clothes in sympathy, as if it mattered whether there was a hole in the knee or not.

It didn't matter to you. It's not like Sam or Dean had better fashion sense. All you cared about was whether it kept you warm. And it always did. But the women didn't agree, and more often than not, you found yourself with a plastic bag of clothes. Either their own or their daughter's. Sometimes even a son's. You grabbed the essentials, like bras and the occasional pair of pants, and then gave the rest to charity. If you kept all of the clothes you were given, the bunker would be overflowing with fabric.

You sniggered at the mental image as you toyed idly with a string on the bottom of your shirt. The seatbelt of the Impala was rubbing uncomfortably against your neck, leaving the skin angry and red, but Dean wouldn't even start the car if you weren't wearing a seat belt.

"What are you laughing at?" Sam asked from the passenger seat, reaching backwards blindly to pinch your leg. You laughed and pulled it out of his reach, kicking at his hand until he retreated. "Nothing."

"You shouldn't be laughing at us. You should be grateful," Dean said sourly from the front as he steered the Impala into the shopping center parking lot.

"Oh I'm very grateful." For this opportunity to see you looking awkward while buying a bra. You didn't say that last bit aloud, simply smiled at Dean in the review mirror.

He grumbled something incomprehensible under his breath as he killed the engine.

"In, pick one quick, and then out, understood?" Sam scoffed at his brother.

"Get a grip, Dean. I thought you of all people wouldn't mind a shop full of lingerie," Sam teased as he got out of the car. Both you and Dean followed suit and you started the trek to the entrance.

"It's no fun if there's no woman in it," Dean said in a flat tone, as if it was obvious.

"He's just worried he'll want to try some on," you stage-whispered to Sam, who cackled loudly.

"That's not true!" Dean cried.

Both you and Sam stopped at the defensiveness in his voice. "We didn't think so before, but we sure as hell do now," Sam told him and Dean groaned.

"There!" you said excitedly and pulled on your brothers to steer them into the lingerie shop.

"Can I help you?" a sales clerk asked. Her smile was small, but genuine when she caught your eye.

"Uh, yes, I need a bra," you told her.

"Have you tried buying a bra before?" she asked.

"No. I don't know my size or anything," you admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. She laughed warmly.

"That's quite alright. We'll just get you measured. Is that alright?" You thought for a second she was asking your brothers, but she was still looking at you, and when you nodded hesitantly, her smile grew. "Don't worry, I'm good at this." She winked, and you found yourself thanking her internally. She was genuine and had a warmth to her that couldn't help but make you relax. You guessed she may have been a mother.

"You gentlemen can go wait on the couch. I'll find some stuff for her," she said to Sam and Dean, and gestured at a red velvet couch in the middle of the room.

Dean coughed and cleared his throat, as if he wanted to say something, but then he turned on his heel and ran to the couch.

"I apologize, he's a bit of a wuss," Sam said before following Dean. Before the woman –Sally, her nametag said – lead you away, you saw Sam smack Dean upside the head.

Sally measured you quickly but certainly. When she was done, she smiled. "Alright. I'm assuming you're looking for something plain?" You nodded. "I'll go pick a few, you can try them on and then see which ones you like the best."

You called a 'thank you!' after her as she disappeared. When she came back, she had four bras in her hand and a worried Dean behind her.

"Mr. Winchester, I already told you, we have a lot of males coming in and out of the store. Some buy for their girlfriends, and some buy for themselves. We even have some who buy for their boyfriends. It's actually quite common," Sally said indulgently, as if she was speaking to a child.

Dean flushed when he noticed you staring at him with a crooked eyebrow.

"Thanks," he said hurriedly, before disappearing.

"He's an odd one," you told Sally apologetically.

"I deal with men like that all the time in this business. More often than not, it means they're questioning their sexuality. Your brother is a classic example of a man denying he might be bisexual," Sally told you.

After purchasing a few bras, you left the store. It wasn't until you were sat in the Impala once again you broke. You started laughing so hard your sides hurt, and you had to grip your ribs to make sure you wouldn't fracture one as you wheezed. A few tears were squeezed out of the squinted corner of your eye, and it took you several minutes to calm down.

"What's going on?" Sam asked finally, a small smile on his face.

"She said Dean was a classical example of a man who was denying he was bisexual."

Dean froze and his cheeks heated up. Sam chuckled, but was trying to keep his laughter at bay. "It's not funny!" Dean snapped, but the corner of his lips quirked up slightly. You unbuckled your seatbelt despite Dean's protests, and hugged his chest around the seat.

"You know we love you no matter what."

"Easy there, that doesn't mean I am bi."

"We're just saying we wouldn't mind if you were," Sam said with a shrug.

"Let me think about it.