A/N: This is my first Wincest fic. If you don't like, don't read. Read and review!
Disclaimers: Supernatural and the characters in the show do not belong to me, I just like to play with them *evil grin*. I may keep Dean and the Impala though :P
Dean wasn't sure how long he had been lying there, but it had been a while, maybe an hour or so. He'd fallen asleep once or twice but had woken himself up after finding he couldn't twist around like he normally would. That was thanks to the pieces of rope around his wrists, securing his body to the bed in their crappy little motel room in Minnesota.
The sound of the key in the lock was heard after minutes of silence. Dean looked away from the ceiling to see the door swing open and his giant of a brother slide in, carrying a paper bag. "What'cha got in the bag Sam?" He asked, even though he could smell the greasy scent rolling from it. "After I went to the library to pick up some notes for the case," Sam put the bag of food on the small round table and sat in the nearest chair. "I stopped at that diner we went to when we pulled into town to pick up some food." He opened the bag and pulled out a large portion of fries and a bacon cheeseburger. Dean's mouth began to water. He could smell it, even though he was nearly ten feet away. He pulled on his restraints and whined "Oh, c'mon Sam, really? I'm starving over here and you're just sat there looking smugly at the food. And you know I hate to be tied up."
"It's your fault Dean; you're the one who didn't behave earlier."
The brothers opened the door to their room and Dean immediately pulled a face. "As far as crap goes Sam, this is up there." Everything about the room screamed the 50's to him. The walls were supposed to be white but had yellowed over the years, the carpet was a sickly brown and the furniture had definitely seen better days. "It's not that bad Dean," Sam brushed past him and dumped his bag on the nearest bed. "We'll be here for a week at most, learn to live with it." Dean groaned and threw himself onto the other bed, hoping to catch a few z's whilst Sam did research on their latest case.
Sam looked over at Dean's sleeping figure sprawled across his bed. He couldn't help but smile and laugh lightly. "He does deserve it; he did just drive for thirteen hours without a break." He shook his head and opened up his laptop.
Dean groggily woke up a few hours later and Sam was still sat at his laptop, working away. He stood up and moved to stand behind him. "So Sammy," he drawled sleepily. "What have you got so far?" Sam rolled his eyes at his brothers use of his childhood name. "Well, I've figured out what it is. It's a Mannegishi," when Dean looked confusedly at him, Sam continued. "Dad hunted one back in the day but he didn't write much about it. It comes from Native American legends; it lives in rivers and likes to play 'deadly jokes' on people."
"That does explain the weird amount of drowning's in the last fortnight." He said, lazily draping his arms over the other man's shoulders, joining his hands on his chest. He began to kiss down his neck then back up to his jawline. Sam made a frustrated noise and swatted Dean away. "Dean, I'm working. Knock it off."
"C'mon Sammy, can't I have ten minutes with you?" He asked his voice deep and husky. "No Dean," Sam slid off his chair and turned to face him. "Either do some work or go to sleep. We have a case and we don't have time." Dean pouted and began to gently punch Sam's chest.
"But Sa-am," he whined. "There's always time. Please, ten minutes. That's all I'm asking…" He begged.
Sam rolled his eyes and pushed his brothers hands away. "I said no, Dean." He tried to shove past him but Dean kept getting in the way. His brother started to undo the buttons on his plaid shirt. "Dean!" He snapped, pushing him away. Harder than he meant to. Dean fell onto the floor, clearly shocked at Sam. "Oh, hell no."
Dean clambered to his feet and swung his fist at Sam. It collided with his nose with a loud crunch. The younger brother stumbled back and caught himself on the table. He clutched at his nose, which had started to bleed heavily. Dean pulled back his fist again and aimed this one at his stomach. Sam blocked it with his forearm, swinging his arm up and to the left, crashing his elbow into Dean's chest.
The brothers stood there, panting from the exertion. Sam winced as he wiped away the blood slowly leaking from his nose. Dean opened his mouth to speak but his brother beat him to it. "I said no Dean, and now you're going to pay for ignoring me." Sam grabbed hold of the other man's wrist and pulled him over to the bed, throwing him down roughly. He walked over to his own bed, pulling two strands of rope out of his bag. "Sam…What are you doing?" Dean asked, his voice quavering slightly. Sam glared at him and quickly knotted the ropes around the bedpost and attached Dean's wrists to them. The older man tugged at the rope and frowned. "Sam. C'mon, I didn't mean it." Sam just picked up the keys to the Impala and strode out of the room. "Sam. Sam, you son-of-a-bitch! Don't scratch her!" Dean shouted as he heard the familiar purr of the Impala's engine as his brother drove off.
Dean's stomach growled loudly, filling the empty void between them. Sam heard this and smirked, unwrapping the burger. "Don't be a bitch Sam." He whined, his eyes hungrily taking in the burger glistening with grease and fat. "You want this, don't you Dean? This, grease-ridden, cholesterol-building burger?" Sam looked over at him, his smirk creating a dimple on one side of his face. Dean swallowed and nodded. "You're going to have to work for it you know," he stood and slowly began to walk to the side of the bed, his jean-clad erection standing out amongst the material. "You're going to get exactly what you wanted. Ten minutes. Ten minutes to impress me." He bent over to untie the ropes around Dean's wrists.
As soon as his wrists were free, Dean sat up and rubbed the sore flesh. "Ten minutes?" He asked and Sam nodded. He slid off the bed at the same time Sam sat down.
Dean knelt in front of Sam, working his way between his knees. His fingers found the buckle of his belt and slowly undid it, pulling it off his jeans. The zipper came down and Dean savagely pulled the restricting fabric down to his ankles. Sam's erection stood proud, tenting his loose boxers. Dean smirked and pulled them away too, leaving Sam naked from the waist down.
Sam hissed as the cool air hit his bare skin. "You've got nine more minutes." He choked out as his brother wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly pulling up on it. A bead of pre-come wormed its way out of his slit and Dean brushed it away with a flick of his tongue.
Dean ghosted his lips over Sam's length, his stubble scrapping against it. His tongue snaked out, trailing from the root to the crown of his cock. Dean licked his lips before slowly wrapping them around the blood-darkened head. A low groan escaped from Sam's throat as Dean's lips slid down to touch the knuckles of his hand.
Lifting his free hand, Dean slid it under the several layers of his brother's shirts, flattening his palm against Sam's warm skin, sending a jolt of ecstatic pleasure straight to the younger man's groin.
"De…" Was all Sam got out before he moaned loudly as Dean pulled up, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. With a loud *pop*, his dick was free of his brother's mouth. He glanced at the digital clock to his left; the red numbers read 16:05. He blinked in surprise and turned to look at Dean who was looking up at him. Sam mentally shook himself. "Three more minutes." He said softly. The older Winchester smirked. "I'll only need two." He chuckled darkly before leaning down once again, slurping the younger man's balls into his mouth and jerking him off roughly.
True to Dean's word, Sam came two minutes later with a shaky moan. Dean stood, licking Sam's cum from his hand. "Well Sammy," he started, pushing his brother onto his back and straddling his hips. "Did I impress?" He asked, bending down to kiss him.
Sam could taste his own cum on his older siblings lips and tongue. "You certainly did." He closed his eyes, smiling to himself. The sudden clink of metal cut the silence and Sam's eyes snapped open, seeing his brother smirking on top of him. "Dean what did you-?"
"Handcuffed you to the bed." He said, dangling the keys above him.
Dean laughed and clambered off him, walking to his goal. The food. He sat down, his grin spreading.
"Dean, I'm sorry…" The younger man said, a frown crossing his face.
"For what? Tying me to the bed?"
"No…" Dean looked up from the laptop screen, a beer bottle halfway to his lips. "What for then?" He saw his brother swallow and his face paled.
"I er… I put a…Put a dent into the Impala…"
"Samuel Winchester, you did what?!"