AN: This crack fic is all in good fun. I don't personally have anything against twincest or Wincest fics- if that's your thing go for it and enjoy. Just my take on how the characters might react to being written about in such manner.

"What t'feck-"

Sam interrupted him with a small laugh. "You guys have to come see this."

Making a face, Dean put down his beer to go see what they were bitching about. He and Murphy wandered over to where Sam sat with Connor looming over his shoulder. Conn rubbed his hand over his forehead, bending to read the screen. His other hand was up the back of his shirt.

"Who t'feck writes dis crap?" he cried, clearly disturbed by what he was reading.

Dean and Murph took a gander at what they were looking at. The website was mutely labeled in the upper left corner "Fan Fiction dot Com"

"What? Was Big Titty dot Com down for maintenance?" Dean snarked.

Murphy's eyes narrowed. "What's..." he extended his finger toward the screen, "twin...cest?"

The four men stood in silence as they continued to read.

Connor was the first to break the quiet. "How t'hell do dey know so much about us?" He waved a hand toward the screen.

"They don't know everyting though," Murphy countered. "Some of 'em are under t'mistaken impression yer t'older brudder."

Dean stood straight and looked between the twins. "You mean he's not?"

Murphy slapped him on the back of the head. "We don't know, ye jackass."

"I'd have to agree with Dean on this one, Murph," Sam admitted reluctantly.

Before Murphy could continue to argue or Connor could gloat, there was a knock on the hotel door. Bella let herself in, shutting the door behind her with a click.

Murphy turned to watch her walk into the room, his eyes traveling from her flawless hair to her pointy little shoes. She, in turn, gave him an appraising look, her eyes moving from scuffed boots to constant bedhead.

"I don't know what it is about you, I just can't put my finger on it," she admitted. "I feel like I know you from somewhere."

Murphy shrugged his shoulders. "Got one o'em faces, I guess."

She simply nodded once before stepping further into the room, noting they were all crowded around the small table that held Sam's computer. "What are you boys looking at?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and moved back to the bed, sitting down with a huff. "Sam and Connor are reading porn."

"We are NOT," they said in unison.

Bella leaned over Sam's shoulder opposite Connor. She read a few lines before sighing. "I do believe that counts as porn, loves. Some good porn too. I didn't know you were that flexible Murphy," she said over her shoulder, looking him over again in a whole new light.

"Wait, whut?" The man slammed his beer down on the end table and came over to read over Bella's shoulder. She pointed at the screen with a perfectly painted nail. Murphy read it, his lips moving along with the words.

He gasped in horror. "Oh my God! Wit me own brudder?" Murphy's face looked like he had sucked a rotten lemon through a garden hose. His tongue lashed out, scraping against his teeth as he squished his face into a very unattractive look. He looked at Connor, and the face only got worse.

"I do believe we determined what 'twincest' is," Sam reported, a sarcastic glee in his voice.

Murphy grabbed his bottle and upended it to his lips only to find it was empty. "I'm gonna be sick," he confessed, tossing the brown bottle to the side.

"Would it be different if you were the top?" Sam asked casually as Bella took the laptop from his hands. She shifted it to a vacant side of the table and began moving through pages, her eyes flicking with absolute delight.

The dark haired MacManus looked at Sam, trying to figure out his meaning. "Top?" he asked slowly. Sam opened his mouth to answer, but Murphy suddenly turned a new shade of green.

"Do I even want to know why you know the difference between top and bottom, Sammy?" Dean asked from where he sat propped against the headboard.

Bella laughed softly. "I wouldn't start bragging, dear sweet Winchester boys. Looks as though you have your own set of Wincest stories."

"Wincest?" Dean croaked, choking on his beer, and it was Sam's turn to look ill.