Dean let the towel drop as he padded out into the motel room. Only blessed silence greeted him (unless you counted the vague drone from the ice machine across the hall or the distant sound of cars from the highway). No clacking of a keyboard, no shuffling of pages, no snoring from an oversized little brother in the next bed over. Just a few precious moments of Sam-free quiet that Dean fully intended to take advantage of.

The bed was too creaky and the sheets were too scratchy, but for a motel room it wasn't bad. Dean relaxed against the comforter, just relishing the feel of cooler air against bare skin. Sam might be gone for the next hour or two; he could afford to take some time.

Or so he thought, anyway. Not five minutes after getting down to business, Dean's cell phone started to ring.

"What?" he answered it, rudely, but Sam didn't even seem to notice the rough impatience in his tone.

"What're you doing? You up?"

Dean glanced down at himself and grinned. "Oh yeah, I'm up." In a more innocent voice he added, "Just, you know. Hanging out."

"Good," Sam said, oblivious. "I've found a few reports down at the library, think they might be connected to our case."

"Yeah?" Dean slid his hand back down, only half-listening. "That so?"

"I'm seeing a scattering of incidents dating all the way back to..." Sam trailed off. "Dean, what the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing." Dean leaned back against the pillows, getting more comfortable. "I've got things firmly in hand over here, Sam. Go on."

There was a long pause before Sam marshalled. "Anyway, I'm seeing a definite pattern here, which is why..." He broke off again. "Dean. Are you jerking off?"

Dean laughed into his cell. "Maybe."

"Dean! This is serious, okay? Stop fucking around."

"I have stopped fucking around," Dean protested. "Why do you think I need to jerk off?"

Sam made a huffy sound that was halfway between disbelief and disgust. "Dude, you're freaking me out here."

"What? Not like you never do it."

"Dean!"

"I'm serious, Sammy. You think I don't hear those mattress springs creakin' while you go to town?"

"I do not," Sam said, and Dean could practically hear the embarrassed flush. "And that's totally different, besides."

"Different how?"

"I don't sit there and talk to you while I do it!"

Dean laughed again.

"Okay, you know what? I'll call you back," Sam said, sounding exasperated.

Dean panted into the phone, heavy and exaggerated. "Sure thing. Give it about five more minutes, okay?"

"Dean!"

"Sam!"

"What!"

Dean grinned even wider. "I'm totally sitting on your bed."

The outraged howl was tinny over the cell phone, but that didn't make it any less satisfying.