Sam smiled at Bailey as the other boy leaned against the bleachers, the sun in his face. Noticing Sam was looking at him, Bailey smiled back.

Reaching out, Sam's fingers found Bailey's and they sat there, holding hands. They didn't speak, there didn't seem to be a need to, they just watched the other students walk back and forth across the field. Although they were perched on the bleachers, it was quiet, the other students more concerned with heading home.

"Sam," Bailey said and suddenly sat up straighter, pulling his hand away.

Sam looked peered across the bleachers to see a group of older boys, seniors, walking towards them across the field.

"Hey!" the boy in front, the school's football star, called, stopping at the bleachers, "Faggots! Why don't you kiss?"

The football star's friends guffawed and hurled more slurs, telling the younger boys to kiss or perform sexual acts with one another. One of the older boys threw a can of Coke at them; it went wide but splashed the row of benches to their left with sugary, sticky liquid.

Sam froze, his face turning red with embarrassment and shame.

"Hey!" Another voice called out and Sam looked up to see his brother, Dean, stalking towards the bullies.

"What do you want Winchester?" the football star asked, now turning his attention to him.

"I'd like you to fuck off, Trey, in all honesty," Dean replied.

"Why? Is that little homo your brother or something?" Trey asked and then looked at his buddies, laughing.

The football star was so focused on making sure he got a laugh out of his friends that he didn't see Dean's fist flying at his face until it was too late. Trey staggered back, his mouth bleeding, crimson spots staining his t-shirt.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he stared at Dean, one hand at his mouth. His buddies stared at Dean, unsure of how to proceed.

"If I ever hear you talking about my brother again, Trey," Dean warned, "If I ever hear your cronies talking about him, I'll give you worse than a split lip."

Trey spit blood out onto the ground, "Like you could take all of us!"

Dean just smiled, "I can't but I doubt Coach Williams and Principal McKenzie would be happy to know you're harassing the younger students."

Trey glared at Dean for a moment and then, deciding that he wasn't worth it, stalked away, his buddies trailing behind him.

"I better go," Bailey stood and grabbed his backpack. He hurried down the steps quickly and across the field, right past Dean and didn't look back.

Sam slumped where he sat, watching as his brother climbed the bleachers towards him. Once Dean had reached him, he sat down and put an arm around his brother.

"You okay Sammy?"

Sam nodded, pulling at a thread sticking out of his sleeve.

"Yeah," he muttered, "Sticks and stones, right?"

Dean reached out with his free hand and put his fingers under his brother's chin, gently lifting his face. Sam's eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks still burned with shame.

"Those guys are assholes, you know that," Dean told him, "Don't listen to anything they say."

"I know," Sam muttered.

"But it's hard not to," Dean added, "I know, Sammy."

Sam nodded again and suddenly let out a sob. He reached out and grabbed his brother's shirt in one hand, burying his face against the soft fabric.

Dean felt tears in his eyes as he comforted his brother, wishing he could keep his brother away from all the hateful people he had experienced and would experience just because he was different.

"Dad and I love you," Dean assured his brother, "No matter what, and that's all that matters."

Dean knew what he was saying wasn't entirely true, but he hated to see his brother crying.

Sam lifted his head and wiped his face.

"Can we go home now?" he asked and Dean nodded, bending down to pick Sam's backpack up.

They didn't speak as they walked away from the bleachers, across the field and into the parking lot. Once they were sitting in the Impala and Dean had turned the key in the ignition, Sam turned to his brother.

"I love you, Dean," he said, smiling.

Dean grinned and started the car, the roar of the engine drowning out the sounds of the other students still milling around.

Love you too, Sammy, Dean thought, no matter what.

Author's Note:

Just a little story I thought of for Pride Month.

I don't encourage or condone violence but this is Dean we're talking about and he usually meets any threat to his brother with his fists.

Please leave a review if you enjoyed this story but ONLY if you enjoyed it. No hate please.