"But I don't understand why I can't come." Dean Winchester was pulling his jacket, sitting on the edge of the motel bed; for a moment he sat motionless and sighed heavily. Sam had asked this question the last four times that Dean and their dad had gone out on a hunt, and Dean knew that his response sounded patronising.

"Look, Sammy…" He started, standing up from the edge of the bed and resting his boot on it so he could tie his laces.

"It's Sam." Sam corrected shortly.

"Sammy, you're too young… It's irresponsible for us to take you on a hunt-" Dean said quietly.

"I'm not a little kid anymore!" Sam sighed exasperatedly, "I'm not five, I know where you're going and what you're going to do."

"Then you'll appreciate how dangerous it is." Dean answered briskly, his manner altering quite dramatically. "Maybe when you're sixteen you'll be able to come along." Dean told him placatingly, resting his hand on Sam's shoulder for the briefest of moments.

"I doubt it…" Sam murmured, "Dad'll never let me come."

"Hold on… I used to say that, and now dad lets me go." Dean tried to sound reassuring; he could entirely understand why John wouldn't let Sam go with them. Sam was unreliable when it came to hunting; he acted upon impulse and took unnecessary risks – in his fighting style he was like John… and Dean already had his hands full with his dad, he couldn't cope with looking out for both of them at the same time.

"Yeah, but you're different…" Sam complained, resting his head on his hands; Dean looked down at his younger brother and wondered whether that was really true, he was trying to think of something comforting to say when the moment was broken by a car horn blaring. Their dad had been getting the car ready, and now it sounded as though he was waiting for Dean before they could leave.

"I'm older Sammy," Dean lightly pushed on Sam's cheek, "That's all… You'll be able to come soon enough." He walked towards the motel door, glancing over his shoulder at Sam who was still sitting on his bed with his head in his hands looking glum.

"Yeah… right…" Sam muttered sarcastically as Dean opened the door to the motel and disappeared out into the howling wind of the night.

Sam felt deflated as he watched his brother leave; he hated it when they went away on a hunt without yelling him anything... He didn't know where they were going, or what creature they were about to face... A solid mass weighed heavily in his stomach, as uncertainty spread throughout the rest of his body... The longer his dad and Dean were away, the worse the feeling became. He always worked himself up while they were away, so much so he was always hysterically relieved when they returned - and Dean always told him off for being so soppy... But Dean didn't know what it was like... Well, maybe he understood the waiting, but he never dreaded that in one night, while they were on a hunt together, that if something happened to them both then Sam would be left on his own in the world... For some reason, when it had been Dean and him waiting for their dad to return, it had never felt as tense as it did now... But the absence of Dean made all the difference. It was Dean being away, Dean out hunting creatures that could hurt him, even kill him, that was what made the fear grow stronger in Sam. If something happened to John, Sam knew that Dean and he would be able to get on with things by themselves... But if Dean was killed- Sam couldn't even think about that without his chest going tight and a wave of helplessness and panic rising up within him...

Sam didn't like being alone in the motel; he constantly felt on the alert, vigilant for unusual sounds, movements or smells... More than once he had reacted to something which had turned out to be a cat moving by the window, or a couple in the room next door... Sam stood up from the edge of the bed, making his way over to the pinewood, slightly wobbly desk that was supplied in the motel room - and which was currently covered in his school books. He was meant to be doing some work; he had a couple of essays to write and a research project to begin. He tried to take his mind off the fact that John and Dean were out there somewhere by sitting down at the desk, opening some of his books and taking out a pen. He rested his chin on his hand, and stared down at his books- he couldn't quite focus himself on the words in the book; the sound of the wind battering against the motel window was not helping. The draft coming through the crack at the bottom of the window was blowing directly into Sam's face, and the rain was making unusual and rather mesmerizing patterns on the window pane.

'They're out there in that weather...' Sam thought to himself, the weight in his stomach tightening. He wished he could have gone along with them, not to be involved in the hunt, but just to watch- just to know that his brother was alright... that he wasn't in trouble; that he was still alive... Every time that this happened, Sam wished the same thing: he wished that he had told Dean that he was thankful for Dean looking out for him, that it meant a lot, that he appreciated Dean; but he hadn't. He hadn't said any of that, he had hardly even said goodbye... And his insides twisted as he realised that the last thing he could have said to his brother was a sarcastic comment... Sam couldn't cope with that thought, he rubbed his hands harshly over his face, his heart pounding unnecessarily fast in his chest; he hoped they would be back soon... But they had only left half an hour ago, realistically they wouldn't be back for a few hours at the very least; he would have to cope with waiting. He chewed on his fingernails, consciously acknowledging the minutes passing; he wasn't going to get any work done- the homework could be done another night - even if it meant doing it with his das and Dean being loud and distracting. As much as it would be annoying, them being in the room would at least alleviate his concerns. The wind was pounding at the door of the motel room, making it rattle on his hinges; the draft coming from underneath the door was increasing with a high pitched whistling as it rattled through the small gaps. The wind was so loud that Sam couldn't distinguish the rattle of the wood with another knocking noise that grew louder and louder.

"Sam? Sammy!" At first Sam was convinced that he was imagining Dean's voice calling through the wind; he had been thinking about him and that was why he could hear him. Then he became aware that the pounding was more rhythmic and louder than it had ever been; still convinced that had talked himself into hearing his brother, he got up from the desk and went to peer through the little view hole in the door - he had followed all of the protocol that his dad has taught him about locking up and being prepared for anything whilst they were gone. The night outside was so dark that very little was visible through the peek hole, Sam closed one eye to try and focus on outside: suddenly Dean's face came floating out of the dark, a thumping came through the door again and Sam could hear Dean's voice calling through the door. "Sammy! Let me in!" Sam fumbled to unlock the door, his heart leaping into his throat as he was sure something must be wrong... Why would Dean be back otherwise? He wrenched the door open and allowed a rather bedraggled Dean to push past him into the room; his hair was plastered against his face, his clothes were weighed down with the water.

"What?" Sam asked, the moment that Dean entered the room. "What's wrong?" Sam implored of Dean, "Where's Dad?" Sam's concerns of the evening had all risen up in his chest at the sight of his brother.

"On hunt," Dean answered, shaking his head like a dog, sending spots of water spraying across the room.

"Then why are you here?" Sam asked, completely confused as to why Dean was standing in front of him, soaked and dripping on the brown carpet; Dean glared at Sam rather scathingly.

"I wasn't needed there, and..." Dean trailed of slowly; he was looking at the water dripping off his left sleeve now. "I'd rather be here." For a second Sam stared at his brother, trying both to abate the concern and confusion;

"So... So is Dad on his own?" Sam questioned, feeling slightly awkward - he knew what Dean had just said, and he could see Dean's cheeks reddening with the embarrassment of bearing his soul.

"No." Dean seized the chance to get out of his embarrassment, "Bobby's with him, that's why they don't need me…" The wind was still battering against the door and window, and for a few long moments, that was the only sound that either of the brothers heard. Dean was looking abashed, his face red, and he was staring at the floor; and Sam was staring at his brother, trying to figure out exactly what to say and what to do… Dean's clothes were still exuding water and as Sam watched him, he could see his brother beginning to shiver from the cold.

"Dean, you're shivering…" Sam took a couple of steps forwards and took hold of the sleeve of Dean's leather jacket.

"Yeah… it's raining." Dean said quietly; he hadn't moved, he was letting Sam take his jacket off for him.

"Did you walk?" Sam asked, hanging up the soaked leather jacket over the back of one of the chairs; Dean nodded. "God Dean, you'll be soaked through!" Sam rested his hand gently on Dean's shoulder; the dampness from Dean's t-shirt was instantly recognisable. "Come on, you need to put on dry clothes before you get sick." Sam crossed the room to the duffel bag that was dumped at the side of the bed that Dean had claimed and turfed out a dry t-shirt and some jeans; but Dean hadn't moved, he just stood, stock still, watching Sam. "Dean… come on." Dean watched his younger, but taller, brother with a growing feeling of warmth blossoming inside his chest, despite the cold water that was still soaking the clothes he was wearing. For years it had been his job to look after Sammy, and now Sam was doing the same for him… it made him feel proud; a tingling sensation spread from the top of his head right down through his body to his toes as he watched Sammy. "Dean? Are you not listening? You need to get out of those wet clothes…" Sam was standing in front of Dean again; and Dean was suddenly aware of the height difference between Sam and him, and that Sam's eyes were a deep hazel shade of brown that Dean was sure he could get lost in. Sam had been holding a dry t-shirt out for Dean to take, but his hand had dropped to his side as he looked down at Dean.

The t-shirt that Sam had loosely been holding dropped to the floor, as unprompted, both of them had taken a step towards each other. The hairs on the back of Sam's neck were raised, Dean stretched on to his tiptoes and without either instigating or making any kind of signal to the other, their lips met. Cold shivers raced up and down Dean's spine as his hand moved of its own accord up to Sam's face, caressing his cheek softly; his heart was pounding so fiercely in his chest that he was sure that Sam must be able to hear it.

"Sammy… we shouldn't…" Dean murmured as he pulled away, but he didn't take his hand away from Sam's cheek; he just stared into Sam's eyes, searching them for what he wanted to know.

"I know…" Sam whispered; but every fibre of his body was disagreeing with that response, he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, pulling him closer towards him. The dampness of Dean's t-shirt pressed against Sam as he leant down to kiss Dean again; gently at first, their lips brushing, before the kiss deepened... Sam's tongue stroked across Dean's teeth, almost as though it was asking for permission to enter, and then fondling with Dean's tongue. Sam's grip around Dean's waist tightened, pulling Dean's body closer to him; it was difficult for both of them to hide their excitement... Sam stretched one of his hands down towards the seat of Dean's jeans, which were still damp, and Dean gasped physically shaking.

"Dean..." Sam susurrated, his hand still on the hard lump present in Dean's trousers. "I… I know this is wrong…" Sam said, breathing hard, "But… but… do you… do you want to?" When Sam asked that one question, Dean felt like he finally knew what life was all about…

"We shouldn't…" Dean growled pausing for the most infinitesimal second; then his hands were fumbling with the button on Sam's jeans. Sam was pushing Dean towards the bed, pulling Dean's t-shirt over his head and doing the same with his own. Dean's skin was cold from having been stood in damp clothes for so long, but warmth that spread through his body the instant that his skin made contact with Sam's. Sam had pulled Dean's jeans down to his knees and pushed him backwards so that he was lying on one of the beds; Dean stared up into Sam's eyes, wishing desperately for what was coming next. Sam bent to kiss him again, at the same time, his hand slipped underneath the elasticated waist of Dean's boxer shorts – his fingers coming into contact with Dean's erection; Dean's back arched and he let out a small groan as Sam's fingers touched him. "Uuh… oh, Sammy…" Dean whispered, Sam was wrapping his fingers around Dean's cock and stroking up and down gently. "Oh God this is so wrong!" Dean groaned.

"Ssssh…." Sam whispered, "It's right… and you know it…" It was strange… Dean was the older brother, he had always been the one that had looked after Sam, all throughout Sam's childhood – he had been the protector, the carer, the one who had been there… Yet Sam was the one who was taking charge now, and Dean was more than happy to let him…

Sam sat upright again, his knees pressing into the mattress either side of Dean's hips; and he pulled Dean's boxers down to around his knees, revealing Dean's genitals- his penis already erect and throbbing with impatience. Sam's fingers curled around the base of Dean's cock and slowly he began to pulse up and down, stroking the entire length from base to tip. Dean's body was flooded with a warm, tingling sensation- he closed his eyes, allowing Sam to be in control, to be fully in charge of the reigns. Dean could hardly command his own body- he was quivering strongly, his limbs trembling as Sam stroked up and down Dean's cock. He knew that this would be considered dirty, disgusting, forbidden, to anyone else – but between the two of them, this was the most beautiful feeling of love that they could share. The heat that had begun pooling in Dean's body was concentrating in his abdomen; he knew what this was a build up to- he wasn't going to last much longer...

"Sam... I can't-" he tried to speak, but his words were almost incoherent with the pleasure that was reaching a peak in his body. "Oh God, I can't!" The feeling was at its peak, Dean couldn't hold on for any longer; he came suddenly, with a loud moan and then went limp. He was gasping for air, trying to draw enough oxygen into his lungs- and Sam kissed Dean's neck again. Dean's breathing was ragged as he clasped a hand around the back of Sam's neck, holding him close into him – enjoying the feeling of flesh on flesh, Sam's pounding heartbeat pulsing in time with Dean's. "You… you feel so good…" Dean panted, "I… I can't believe…"

"That this has happened?" Sam supplied, nuzzling his brother's neck with his nose.

"Yeah…" Dean whispered, tightening his grip around his brother's chest. "It's like… I don't know how to explain – it's like…"

"Like the world has slot into place?" Sam supplied.

"Yeah, exactly." Dean agreed. "And it's you and me, together…"

A/N: I'm not exactly practised at writing smut, but I hope you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you thought of this!