Dean sauntered down the short ramp of stairs to the gravel forecourt, the morning sun glinting on the paint-work of the flaming red Ferrari parked nearby.
It wasn't the only car he owned, it wasn't even his favourite, but it sure made heads turn when he parked heraround town.
Not that he had any problems with being recognised.
Dean Winchester was the number one male model of the moment, his handsome face and body plastered on billboards all over the country.
Slipping into the low-slung car, he caught sight of his brother, hair all over the place, back pack filled with books, hurrying down the same steps.
Today the kid had an important exam at college. He'd been worried all week about it and when his good-natured little brother was worried, he morphed into the most bitchy dude on the planet, complete with frowns and a range of comical scrunched-up expressions that made it difficult for Dean to keep a straight face.
Sammy was studying pre-law and no parent could feel more pride than Dean at his baby brother's scholastic record, a stream of A's.
And when the occasional B+ turned up which was as rare as an asteroid hitting the Earth, his brother mooned around devastated, and of course in regular big brother fashion Dean baited him incessantly.
He cast his mind back to five years earlier when their Dad had been killed by a freaking drunk driver as he'd been crossing the street after work. Dean had been eighteen and Sam a skinny fourteen.
Dean thanked his lucky stars he'd just begun working in the same auto shop as his father at the time, his age and meagre earnings allowing him to get custody of Sam.
He didn't know how he'd have dealt if after losing dad, he'd lost Sammy to some foster home too.
The brothers had been devastated by the loss. John had been the mainstay of their world and adjusting to his absence had been tough.
Their mother had died not long after Sammy was born and their father had raised them as best he could, but the burden of looking after his younger brother had fallen to Dean, who had accepted it with pleasure, for he'd adored the sweet little boy since the day his mother brought him home from hospital.
That first year on their own had been hard, money was tight and fifteen year olds seemed to need oodles of stuff, not that Sam ever asked for much. The kid was mature for his age but he had the unfortunate habit of shooting up every few months, growing out of clothes and shoes at a mind-blowing pace.
The little shit was taller than Dean now and he never forgot to rub it in. Sasquatch of a brother!
Then when Dean had found himself having to hold down two jobs to make ends meet, the unthinkable happened and a showy guy with a top-of-the-line Mercedes had brought his car in to get checked.
At first Dean had been freaked out by the guy's eyes roaming all over his face and body and he'd been tempted to clock him one, but reined himself in thinking it might not go down too well with his boss and he needed this job desperately.
Dean was used to people checking him out. He wasn't vain but he knew girls found him attractive, even some guys though he didn't swing that way, but he'd never been subjected to the close scrutiny this weirdo was giving him.
To his surprise, a card was pushed into his hand.
"Auditions tomorrow, 9 am sharp. Clean yourself up and you might have a chance," the man said leaving Dean open-mouthed.
His eyes scanned the little white rectangle of cardboard. 'Singer Male Modelling Agency'.
He'd slipped the card into his pocket and forgotten all about it until that evening when Sam, whose turn it was to do the laundry, pulled it out of his oil-stained overall.
"What's this, Dean?" he'd asked curious.
"Some guy at work gave it to me. It's nothing important, " Dean had answered around the slice of pizza he was chewing.
"Singer Male Modelling Agency, " Sam read. "Why would he give you this? Did he say anything?"
"Huh.. Yeah. Somethin' about turning up tomorrow cleaned up."
Sam's quick wits soon put it together.
He'd only ever seen his big brother as 'Dean' and he'd never given much thought of how he might appear to others but he knew girls found Dean attractive, remembering how they'd fawned over him when he was in school.
Sam's knowledge of the world of high-fashion was limited, but he was sure his brother's looks could compare amiably with those of any of the brooding males who advertised everything from toothpaste to underwear on the city billboards, and the guy who gave him the card must have thought so too.
"Why don't you give it a go?" Sam suggested. "It can't do any harm."
"Dude," his big brother had grinned, crumbs of half-chewed pizza dotting his lips. "Do I look like a candidate for a wussy model?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Not at the moment," he'd huffed. " But even you can clean up good."
Dean shook his head and went back to watching the TV, but when Sammy got an idea in his head, he could vie with a mule in seeing it through, and his little brother had decided Dean should go to the agency.
The next morning Dean presented himself nervously in the front office.
He'd never been shy, had alway been self-confident but this was completely out of his comfort zone, the stark whiteness of the luxurious waiting room way beyond his world of car-servicing and little brothers.
Yet, fate had smiled on him. The big boss himself had come to the selections and he'd taken a shine to Dean, or rather to Dean's face, gaining him his first awkward photo shoot for a brand of shaving cream. From there he'd never looked back.
In a few short years he'd become one of the highest paid models around, leading to the Winchester brothers shacking out in a spacious luxury home with all they could ever desire.
At twenty-three the world was his oyster, and Sammy was breezing his way though the prestigious Stanford university, making Dean's heart burst with pride.
Rolling down the window with a manicured hand, Dean called out. "You want a lift, Sammy?"
"Na. I'm fine Dean. I'll take the truck. Don't know how long I'll be."
Dean nodded. "You got your phone? "
Sam rolled his eyes. "Just because I forgot to take it with me that one time..."
"Yeah. Don't remind me. I almost had a heart attack when I couldn't contact you. You did end up in hospital with a broken ankle if memory serves me, dude!"
Sam's face took on a contrite expression.
If it had been the other way round and he'd not been able to find Dean, he'd have been just as worried.
The brothers had moved on from semi-poverty to riches but the experiences and love that bound them so closely hadn't changed.
To the people outside their two-man world, Dean might be a glamorous model, but to Sam he was just Dean, his big brother.
And in Dean's eyes, Sam would always be Sammy, the geeky floppy-haired kid brother who made his life better by just existing.
A bright smile illuminated Dean's handsome features as he drove down the driveway, the Ferrari purring with unleashed power under his famous ass.