Sam stared at the blinking cursor on his screen. The room was dark all around him, save for the blue light of his laptop screen. Dean had gone to sleep about an hour ago and Sam had continued researching just what they might be up against in Miami, Missouri until he was positive that his older brother had actually fallen asleep, keeping an eye and an ear on the other man's breathing.

The moment he was sure he was the only conscious person in the room, he clicked out of the browser windows and instead opened up a password protected folder on his laptop, clicking on one of the files inside titled Brothers In Arms, bringing up a text document. It was only a half-finished first draft but...ever since he'd found out a couple of years ago that fan fiction not only existed but existed for he and Dean...well...he hadn't been able to get it out of his mind. He'd finally started writing some of it himself, under a pseudonym of course, and posting it up on several fan sites.

Turned out, Sam had a lot of raw talent for creative writing. Especially creatively descriptive pornographic writing. He was one of the more popular writers in the fandom now. That's right...he was writing porn...centered around he and his brother...having very hot, very aggressive sex together. Together as in with each other. Some of it involved gags and restraints.

Like the fan fiction he was writing now. In it, Dean had him restrained against the bed on his back with a ball gag in his mouth while he rode Sam, firm and deliberate. Long up and down strokes, slow, as they kept eye contact, his older brother's hands braced on the younger Winchester's chest.

Sam had to stop after only a few extra sentences. There was something about writing out your deepest, dirtiest, kinkiest fantasies that caused a person to have to pause in that writing. That caused Sam to have to reach down, grip his denim-covered cock and squeeze a little. But, there was no relieving this pressure. Oh no, not like that. He was already way too hard, way too fast.

Darting his eyes over to his brother across the room on one of the twin beds, satisfied that he seemed to still be sleeping, he slowly and carefully – almost painfully in the effort to be quiet – lowered the zipper on his jeans, opened the flaps, pushing his jeans and his underwear down...he really didn't want to be restrained, not to mention chafing his dick against the zipper teeth accidentally wasn't his idea of fun.

Once the pants and underwear were down to his knees – easier to spread his legs and get comfortable in his chair that way – he licked the palm of one hand before bringing it down to his cock, giving a slight hiss as he started to move his hand up and down it just the way he liked, closing his eyes after a moment and sighing, allowing the images of his brother riding his cock like a pro while Sam was tied down, helpless and silenced, to the bed. He kept pace with the way he imagined Dean paced his rhythm.

On the other side of the room, Dean was still fully awake. With all the squirming around to get himself comfortable that Sam had been doing, it had woken him up. At first he'd thought maybe he'd complain or do something to let Sammy know he was being an inconsiderate douche...when he'd heard it. The distinct sound of a zipper before a hiss and a sigh and then the steady sound of flesh stroking flesh.

For a few moments, he just lied there and tried not to let on that he was awake. After all, there was no reason to embarrass Sammy right now, right? Wouldn't want to give the guy a complex or...Oh hell, who was he kidding? Himself? Fuck that shit. He was being quiet and trying to make like he was still sleeping because he wanted to listen.

Actually, he'd prefer to turn around and watch, but he knew better. Sam would squawk like a girl and yank his pants up so fast Dean would be lucky to catch a glimpse of his brother's naked dick.

Mmm...and what would that dick look like right now, anyway? He imagined Sammy's boner would be long and thick, engorged, the vein on the underside popping prominent and proud, the head an angry red. Maybe the slit was already dripping precum. He bet it was, Sammy was making some serious happy noises over there for all it was obvious he thought he was being quiet.

Dean licked his lips and very slowly, very gradually, managed to move his hand to his own prick. He couldn't risk doing too much, but he at least tried to squeeze it a bit, relieve some pressure. It worked, but not very well. Enough that he could manage not to give himself away. All he was really accomplishing here, though, was proving just how sick he truly was – seriously, getting off on your little brother sitting in the corner and probably watching porn on his laptop? Yeah, not sick at all...riiiight – and giving himself a major case of blue balls because there was no way he could risk bringing himself to orgasm.

Still, the elder Winchester had to bite his lip hard and squeeze his dick firmly to keep from cumming when he heard his brother finish. The gasp, the near-choked sound as Sammy obviously bit off a shout. Damn, his little brother must've cum hard to make him sound like that.

He forced his eyes open, forced himself to look at the wall, barely able to make out the garish flower-pattern on the maroon wallpaper in the glow of the laptop, forcing himself to think of any unsexy thought he could possibly think of to keep himself under control, moving his hand away from himself.

Sam panted heavily as he looked down at his hand and his shirt, both of which were covered in his own semen. The first few times he'd done this, he'd felt guilty and sick. He'd felt dirty. Now all he felt was a little bit dirty. Filthy, actually, if he was going to be honest with himself. Mmm...but damn it was such a good filthy.

He closed the laptop, knowing that if someone lifted the lid it would prompt for a password. His dirty little secret was safe. Heh, there was that word again. Dirty. He smirked just a little as he got up to pull his pants up and head to the bathroom to clean himself up.

The next morning, though Sam was feeling a little awkward when Dean woke up. Especially when he'd noticed that his brother had morning wood. It reminded him of last night and he had to really fight with some valiantly disgusting thoughts just to make sure he didn't pop a woody himself.

They sort of tip-toed around each other, avoiding touching each other to the point where they would pull back abruptly if they thought they might so much as brush arm hairs. Averting their gazes off to the side, nervous glances at each other, both wondering if the other knew their secret.

"Oh, uh...well...I mean, you go ahead Sammy. You were up all night researchin'...stuff. So, you deserve a nice shower and, uh...to catch a few winks before we head out." Dean said, haltingly, almost nervously, clearing his throat a bit and looking down at his feet while he stood next to Sam just outside the doorway to the bathroom, scratching the back of his head.

"No, no, it's fine. I mean, you have all that driving to do today and all..." Sam said, pulling back from the doorway, bringing his hands up in a gesture of warding-off.

"Yeah, but, Sammy you might not have time for a shower later..." Dean reasoned.

"No, it's okay. I'll...I'll wake up a little earlier than I originally planned to make time." Sam said, going over to his laptop. "Besides, there's something I need to finish up over here."

Dean shrugged, going into the bathroom and shutting the door. He made sure to lock it as well, hoping that the lock was good. They usually didn't argue about who should shower first. Well, not like this anyway. If they argued over it, it was usually Dean insisting he should get first dibs while Sam insisted that was ridiculous and unfair.

But, that wasn't why he locked the door. He wasn't worried Sammy might change his mind. Not really. It was just good old fashioned paranoia that had him do it. Because, he had plans for the shower this morning now that he had it to himself.

He got undressed before he turned on the showerhead and adjusted the temperature the way he liked it best before getting in, shutting the shower curtain with a snap, listening to the rings at the top make their little metallic-rolling sound. Taking his cock in hand, he smirked. He was already hard again and he was gonna take his time. He might be a sick fuck, but a fuck was definitely what he was going to be imagining while he beat off in the shower this morning. Thinking of that nice, long, fat dick of his brother's pounding into him from behind.

Oh yeah...that was the way he liked it...hard, firm snaps of the hips he imagined behind him, the tall, broad frame of his younger brother behind him, bending him forward a bit toward the tiled shower wall, bracing one arm against it as the water sluiced down his body, his free hand working his sex at an unforgiving rhythm.

God he could almost feel his brother's hard, hot body pressed up against him from behind as he practically rutted into Dean, grunting and giving short, heated moans against Dean's ear. The puff of hot breath lingering there. The older Winchester gave a loud, unapologetic moan that bounced off the bathroom walls, echoing.

Turned out, Dean had a pretty damn good imagination, too, when he wanted to use it.

Sam gave a slight jump and swallowed hard, almost audibly, when he heard his brother moan like that. God, it went straight to his groin. He shifted uncomfortably before hitting the Post button on the Wincest fan fiction forum he posted his work to most frequently.

He had a feeling it was going to be a long, uncomfortable day.