Tangled sheets and bare skin covered one of the motel beds, leaving the other cold and empty. Light crept through the window, crawled through the thick curtains, and stretched itself across the sleeping Winchesters' exhausted forms.

The first heavily closed eyelid pried open when the god-awful ringing of Dean's phone echoed through the room. Sam, being on the side closest to the table the phone rested on, rolled over with a groan of irritation. He pressed the phone to his face trying to read the caller id through the sleepy film that still coated his eyes. Dean's fingers slid in front of his face and snatched the phone from his grasp. He rejected the call and turned it off; tossing it to the sheets before rolling over again.

"That was Bobby." Sam said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"So? It's too early to be talking to him anyway." Dean grumbled into his pillow before flipping it over and sighing into the cooler side. He felt at ease, which was a first in a motel room. He didn't give a damn if he was naked, covered only by cheap sheets, and lying next to Sam. All he wanted was to sleep in, but something in him said that Sammy's early bird habits would get him out of bed just like every other morning.

"Early? Dean, it's one in the afternoon." Sam laughed when Dean's eyes slid open again to look at his brother.

"No wonder I'm hungry." He pushed himself onto his side and squinted into the sun coming through the window, but soon collapsed back down into the bed. "Five more minutes." He buried his eyes into the nook of his arm. Sam gave him a flick on the ear before lifting himself from the bed and venturing to the bathroom for a much needed shower. The older Winchester, still nestled deep beneath the sheets, drifted back into a relaxed state of mind until he fell asleep. He began vividly dreaming of the previous night spent in the very bed he was laying in.

It happened so fast; kissing, touching, then hitting the bed. He could barely make out the outline of the young figure below him as his eyes finally adjusted to the dark. Sam had gripped his shoulders tight and dug his nails in, breaking the skin. Dean hadn't noticed a thing. He could see Sam's torso in the light, shining with a cool layer of sweat, and he could feel his heavy warm breath brushing by his face. Their skin slid and stuck against each other as they fought for release. Dean sank his teeth into the man below him as the ecstasy crawled down his spine. Sam pulled him closer, sliding his tongue past his, and shifting his hips until Dean gave a gasp and a climaxing groan that was music to his ears. He finally collapsed into the cold sheets and sucked in a lung full of fresh air. Neither said a word as their bodies returned to normal temperature and the heaviness of sleep weighed them down.

Dean's eyes slid open again, realizing thirty minutes had passed instead of the five he had originally intended. The room was quiet, no shower running, no Sam. With the room to himself he collected his things; packing for the road they would be hitting soon, and then showered last night's events down the old motel drain. He smiled to himself, thinking of Sammy coming back with two coffees in hand and a smug grin spread across his face.

He was just zipping up a fresh pair of jeans over his still tired legs when he heard the familiar roar of the Impala's engine. He stared intently at the door until it opened, revealing Sam with two coffees in hand. A smug grin spread across his face when he fell into Dean's gaze; just as Dean had imagined. He smiled into the floor with his arms crossed before giving him another long once-over. For once Sammy wasn't in a button-up or flannel shirt but in a simple, crisp, white t-shirt. Dark jeans and the usual boots dressed the rest of his tall, slender, and devilishly toned body.

"Hey." Sam handed Dean his coffee even though it was two in the afternoon. "I called Bobby back."

"Yeah?" Dean raised a brow and pulled up a chair, fixating his eyes on his brother as he pulled up a chair across from him.

"Yeah, said he wanted us to stop by as soon as we had time." Sam said, opening his laptop, and sipping at his drink.

"You wanna head out?" Dean asked and caught his brother's eye when he looked up curiously from his computer. "We're only forty-five minutes away."

Sam sat back in his chair, feeling his face flush slightly. He shrugged, "Nah, I told him we'd be three hours at the most."

"Why?" Dean asked out of curiosity, but clutched his leg as he realized. He looked to the bed, the floor, and back up to Sam whose eyes were darkening. A split-second later they threw themselves from their chairs and at each other; Sam almost breaking the table slamming Dean onto it. The laptop hit the floor and Dean's half-full cup of coffee tipped over, rushing across the table and sliding through his hair. Coffee was all they could smell and was all they tasted as their tongues flooded each other's mouth.

Then it was a fight to see who could get their pants off faster, Sam having the upper hand because he was the one standing up. He yanked Dean's from his legs, leaving him lying there in his black briefs. Dean took the opportunity to gain the upper hand and pushed himself from the table, leading Sammy back to the untouched bed behind them. Somehow he kept ending up beneath his younger brother. Eventually he stopped fighting it and let him take control. He slid the last bit of clothing from his body and the next thing he knew he was gasping, clawing, and pleading. Yanking at Sam's long brown hair was all he could do as he was pressed further into the sheets. His fingertips were bloody from clutching onto Sam's back for dear life. Then Dean's phone began ringing. Sam looked down at Dean, who shook his head desperately.

"We can call them back." Dean began to lose his breath as he inched closer to his limit.

"It could be Cas."

"Dammit, Sam! If you stop-" He yelled, but was silenced by warm wet lips as Sam gripped him tighter and pushed deeper. That was all it took and they fell over the edge. Their tensed muscles finally relaxed as they tangled themselves in each other once again, pulling the sheets around them and letting the weight of sleep take over.

Until the phone rang.

Dean sighed into Sam's chest and rolled himself forcefully from the warm bed. Sam watched as Dean picked up his briefs from the floor and slid them over his naked form.

"Hey, Cas." He said into the phone then shrugged. "I was sleeping." He paused then looked to Sam still under the sheets. "Alright, we're leaving. We'll meet you at Bobby's."

"Back to work." They shared an exhausted look and cleaned up for the drive. They showered for the second time that day. Dean rubbed his eyes, yawned, and threw Sam the car keys.

"You're driving." Dean grabbed his bag and walked out. Sam shut the motel door behind them and followed Dean out to the Impala. Five minutes out on the road he looked over to find his brother passed out in the passenger's seat. He turned the radio down and turned his tired eyes back to the road. The sun was high as he rolled down the window, letting in the warm air to dry his hair. He took in a breath.

"This is nice." He said to himself.

Was it wrong? They decided that nothing was really wrong or right, it was simply in everyone's mind. Any and everything you were taught could damn well be a lie; made up to keep you civil, to keep you quiet. But, for the sake of everyone else, they would keep their cakeholes shut about the 'wrong' they did and the wrong they would continue to do.