A hunter's life is unlike any lifestyle in the universe. You have no friends, you never tell people what you really do, you make no money, you rarely get thanked for risking your life every day to save everyone else's, and at the end of each day you feel like you got hit by a train. The Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean, were unfortunate enough to be raised in such a lifestyle. Their father John Winchester, driven by revenge and grief, dragged his two young children across the country to hunt demons, ghosts, vampires, shape shifters, and countless other monsters. The two young children idolized their father at a very young age, but as time went on, their glamorized ideals of John faded and turned into a much more realistic picture: John Winchester was an alcoholic douchebag. At age ten, Dean took care of his brother Sam's every need. He 'acquired' clothes and food for Sam, he took care of him when he was sick, and he was the shoulder to cry on any time Sam got emotional. But Dean never needed that from Sam. Dean never cried. Not ever.

"Dee, Dad's not coming home, is he?" Little Sam Winchester clung onto his big brother's shirt with tears in his eyes. Their father was two days late on returning from a hunt. Sam always feared that one day his father would leave and just never come back. Dean never admitted it, but he feared the same thing. That night, six year old Sam fell asleep cuddled next to his protective, comforting older brother, who would not give away that he thought they just might be orphans in the morning.

...XoXoXo...

"Come on Sam, we'll be late."

"Dean, I don't want to go to school." Twelve year old Sam Winchester complained to Dean. John was away on a hunt and Sam usually lost all motivation to go to school when his father was not around. He hated going to new schools every few months. He was in his awkward "growing up" phase where everyone and everything seemed different now. He felt strangely insecure, awkward, and alone. School was the worst place in the world for Sam at that time in his life. It was a prison of perpetual judgment. Dean, of course, would not allow Sam to skip school just on the occasion of puberty. Sam didn't tell Dean his reasons for suddenly detesting school, but Dean knew. He knew from experience.

Sam squirmed awkwardly in his seat in the classroom. The annoying problem in his shorts bothered him immensely. He didn't understand why it wouldn't just stop being hard. He didn't understand why it was hard at all. He wasn't entirely naïve. He knew about sex, and arousal, (not that he had any experience in either.) But he wasn't aroused. He certainly wasn't thinking about sex. He tried ever so hard to make the erection go away but eventually relented. He tried to focus on the teacher's lesson, but ended up getting lost in thoughts about his dad, and hunting.

In the middle of a mentally-simulated vampire hunt, Sam was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. "Mr. Winchester, are you paying any attention?" The old history teacher, Mr. Beecham, did not sound happy.

Sam stuttered a reply quickly, "Sorry sir, I was daydreaming."

An unimpressed frown came over the teacher's face but he returned to his place in front of the class. Sam made more of an effort to pay attention this time. Meanwhile, he prayed to God that school would be over soon.

"Dad said he'd be back next week Sammy, then we're out of this hellhole." Dean announced as Sam approached the Impala carrying his backpack. The discouraged younger brother tossed the bag into the backseat and then sat shotgun. "You call every town we stay at a hellhole, Dean."

"Well that's because every Goddamn town we've ever been in so far is a hellhole." Dean reasoned soundly. "And in a few days, we're off to the next one." He shifted the Impala into drive and remained silent for the rest of the afternoon.

Later that evening, Sam Winchester stepped out of the shower shivering, and he started furiously rubbing himself with a coarse, rough, cheap hotel towel. He still shook with cold when he stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He held the towel around his waist, but he still felt awkward being in the presence of Dean. He chided himself for feeling uncomfortable; Dean was his brother, he was never shy around him before.

Dean was lazing on the hotel bed watching some random gunslinger western show, and Sam took the opportunity to quickly grab his clothes from his duffel bag and head to the bathroom.

"Since when did you start changing in the bathroom, Sammy?" Dean called out teasingly. He knew exactly why Sam was being shy. He knew from experience.

Sam exited the bathroom presently, wearing red plaid pajama pants and an oversized black t-shirt. Dean noticed the sudden need for modesty in Sam's behavior. Usually he would walk around in only his boxers. The older brother played it cool though. The last thing he needed was an emotionally upset Sam.

"What are you watching?" Sam sat down next to his brother on the springy hotel bed.

"Just some dumb cowboy movie. Nothin' else on." Dean drank from a bottle of beer but stopped once Sam looked at him with a wounded gaze.

"Dean, you know you shouldn't drink. You're only sixteen." Sam practically pouted at his brother, but behind the cute look was a genuine concern for his brother's health.

"I can drink if I want to Sammy. Now leave me alone." Dean was about to shove his brother but resisted when he saw tears forming in Sam's eyes.

"Hey, is it that big of a deal to you?" Dean's voice was softer. He knew Sam was fragile at this point in his life. Sam nodded solemnly, and Dean relented; he put the beer on the bedside table.

"I just can't lose you Dean… Not you too." Sam clung to his brother in a desperate hug.

"Hey, Hey. We still have Dad." Dean knew what Sam' response would be to that, but he said it anyway.

"Dad's never been here for me like you have."

"Yeah, well that's what I'm here for Sammy." Dean tried to get past the girly moment, and Sam reluctantly let go of his brother. The instant he did though, he realized he had another boner in his pants. "Oh God not again." Sam grumbled quietly.

"You getting angsty on me Sammy?" Dean teased.

"Quit it Dean." Sam said a little too harshly. "I can't help it."

"You know how to get rid of it, right?" Dean became more solemn.

"Dean, I've tried everything." Sam opened up to his brother. "I've tried freezing cold showers, meditation…Thinking about Mrs. Rewey's wart..."

"Eww." Dean stopped Sam's rant. "You ever jack off? You know, a little hand job in the bathroom?"

Sam looked blankly at his brother, completely clueless.

"You've never masturbated, Sam." Dean said unbelievingly. Sam could only respond with more of the same; a blank look. "Holy crap. Look, you go off in the bathroom, think about some busty Asian chicks, stroke off that hard-on of yours, alright? And don't come out until your problem goes away, huh?"

Dean pushed Sam off the bed and into the bathroom. Sam shut the door, still shocked at his brother's advice.

He sat down on the toilet and palmed the hard bulge through his flannel pants. It felt good to stroke it. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on how good it felt, and started to forget the awkward situation that went on in the adjacent room. He took his cock out as he thought of Dean, and how good he felt when Dean held him tight. He thought of how good it felt years ago when Dean snuggled close behind him while they slept. He wondered how it would feel to stroke Dean's cock for him. He imagined that Dean must have an impressively sized cock.

Sam 's fantasy was interrupted by another thought that crossed his mind: he was masturbating to mental images of his brother. Innocent enough thoughts, of course, but… Oh God it felt so good to think of Dean.

But in order to be more normal, Sam tried to think of a girl. He tried to think of a girl's breasts. He had never seen naked breasts before. In fact, Sam knew nothing about girls. But he knew just about everything about Dean. It was much easier to think intimately of his handsome, strong, caring big brother than it was to think of the female enigma.

He reasoned with himself that he just wanted to get rid of his boner, so he continued stroking his cock languidly to thoughts of holding Dean close; thoughts of rubbing his crotch against Dean's. He longed to feel the friction of jeans restraining his raging erection and rubbing against Dean's clothed bulge. Sam felt a sweet fire of pleasure building deep inside, and he was so enraptured with the feeling that he quickened his pace. His hips began to buck into the air as his very first orgasm swept over him like a tidal wave. He stiffened like a board and he groaned quietly in pleasure and relief. The sticky fluid shot out of his cock and painted his black shirt.

Sam finally sighed his contentment once the orgasm's intensity subsided. He didn't notice the semen on his shirt, and after he tucked himself away he slowly opened the bathroom door.

Dean was lying on the bed, his cock was out of his pants, and he was stroking himself slowly. Sam hid behind the door so Dean wouldn't see him. He kept perfectly quiet while he spied on Dean from the small crack in the door. Dean pushed wildly into his hand as though he was fucking an imaginary partner, his ass lifting off the bed with each thrust.

Sam felt a stirring in his crotch and he could feel he was getting hard again watching his brother jack off. The younger Winchester slowly palmed his returning hard-on through the flannel fabric. His breath became ragged and he felt the intense pleasure start to sneak up on him again. Sam closed his eyes and just listened to the strangled gasps coming from the other room. He thought he heard Dean saying something, so he listened more intently.

"Mmm… Sammy." Dean moaned as he stroked himself.

Sam gulped. Was Dean thinking about him? Was he thinking of him in the same way he thought about Dean? There was only one way to find out. Sam bravely opened the door and approached the bed.

"Whoa, uh sorry Sammy. I thought you'd take longer." Dean stuttered. He tried to put his erection back in his pants but had great difficulty.

"It's okay Dean. I wanted to do something for you." Sam pushed away his nervousness and stood as close as he could to his reclining brother. Dean had his legs over the side of the bed, and his cock was still sticking out of the fly of his jeans. Sam fell down on his knees and took the cock delicately into his hand.

Dean was caught off guard at first, and started to object, but only for a moment. Once he felt his little brother's hand stroking him his mind went completely blank. Sam gave his brother's cock an experimental lick at the tip. His brother tasted so good, and the fluids he was leaking tasted even better.

Sam took Dean's cock in his mouth as far as he could without gagging. He stroked his tongue along the bottom of the length while it was still in his mouth. Dean gasped, taken completely by the erotic sight before him. His little brother Sammy was taking care of him for a change; in the most intimate way, too.

Dean felt his orgasm approaching quickly and he took Sam's long hair in his hand. He guided Sam's head as his lips worked up and down his long erection. Before long he felt himself slip off the edge into ecstasy.

Sam felt the cock pulse and twitch when Dean came. He tasted the cum as it made its way down his throat. He loved it. He loved the taste of Dean.

"Oh Sammy." Dean finally whispered after his orgasm. "That was fantastic. Thank you." Dean knew he should have been freaked out about the fact that his brother just sucked him off, but he wasn't. For some reason it just felt right. It felt like it was just another part of caring for each other. He could tell Sam felt the same way.

Sam wiped his mouth and sat next his brother on the bed. "That was so good, Dean. I'm glad I could take care of you."

Dean saw a droplet of cum still on his brother's cheek and was tempted to lick it off of him, but instead wiped it delicately with his thumb. Sam hugged his brother for the second time that night, and he started to drift off to sleep. Dean let his brother fall asleep leaning on his chest while he watched yet another Western film on television. As soon as he was certain that Sam was fast asleep, he laid the young man on a pillow and covered him with a spare blanket. He lay down behind his little brother and hugged him tight, just like they did when they were little. Dean wasn't awake for long and sleep soon overtook him too.