I've been on the fence about posting this for a few months. It is not something I usually write and I was not sure about how it would be conceived. I like the way it came out so I figured, why not? I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
I had always thought the way John raised Dean would mess him up a little when it came to Sam. This is something small I thought he would be willing to do for Sam just to see him smile. Warning Weecest: Sam 13 Dean 17. No offense to John lovers but this is just the way I see it.

His Responsibility

The relationship the Winchester brother's had was not normal by any means. They had been raised to think of the other on a level that most other siblings couldn't even imagine. To Dean it was a normal thing to think about your baby brother in a way that was not deemed appropriate by outside standards- love is love, no matter who it's with, right? Why would he view it as wrong when it was something he could not control?

If Dean had to blame anyone for his feelings toward Sam, it would have to be his father. John Winchester had told Dean, at the tender age of four, his six month old brother was his responsibility. He was the one who was to protect Sam no matter the cost and that his life was in Dean's hands. He had been given the orders to watch and protect Sam. Soon, his baby brother became his world. He hated to be away from him for any amount of time, even if Sam was going to be with someone he trusted like their father, uncle Bobby, or Pastor Jim. Nothing was more important than Sam. John made sure of it. Made sure Dean knew that Sam's life was in his hands and if anything happened to him it would be Dean's fault.

Little did John know how far Dean was willing to go for Sam. Sometimes he wondered if his father knew just how he felt toward his brother. If he thought about the repercussions of telling your son repeatedly it was his job to care for Sam no matter what happened. He didn't think so, but as a soldier in Johns army against the supernatural, Dean did not question it. He believed John had a reason for giving him this responsibility and did not question it. When it came to anything outside of the job, John was little more than blind. That included his sons. Dean knew his father loved them but in the hunt for finding the thing that killed their mother they often came after what John had been hunting at the time. Dean knew avenging his mother's death was important and he accepted it. He would do his job and keep Sam safe, the way John wanted, and try to ignore the feelings that was growing for his baby brother the longer time went on.

Dean took care of Sam, watching, protecting, and mentoring him in a way that John had not done for him. It wasn't until Sam hit puberty that it hit Dean just how bad his feelings were for the boy. It did not matter to him that to anyone else Sam was awkward and gangly, to Dean he was perfect. That should have sent a red flag but for some reason he saw nothing wrong with it.

...

Dean walked back to the motel they were calling home for now, his leather jacket swung over his shoulder and a smile on his face, just getting back from a date. John better greeted his son before walking out the door on his way to a local dive, no doubt, to drink away the nightmares his job gave him. Sam was sitting at the table of the small kitchenette, head bent over his notebook while he did homework.

Dean slung his jacket over the back of the only other chair at the tiny square table across from his brother before making his way to the fridge and pulling out one of his father's Millers. If there was anything that could be said for John was he knew one way or another his son was going to drink and turned a blind eye to one or two missing from his stash. Dean was a teenager after all. Sitting in his chair, he propped his feet up onto the tale, leaning back until the chair was on it's hind legs before popping the lid off of the bottle and taking a pull.

"Another date?" Sam asked, not looking up from his long division homework, his long hair brushing the textbook as he looked at the problem.

"Yep." Dean smacked his lips. "And man, she was a wild one." He grinned at his brother who still did not look up.

Sam said nothing for a long moment, chewing on his bottom lip. Laying his pencil on his text book, Sam looked up at his brother who still had a smile on his face.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sam asked, averting his eyes to the book on the table.

"Shoot."

Sam fidgeted, picking the pencil back up and to have something to mess with, twirling it between his fingers. "What's it like to kiss someone?"

Dean gave his little brother an odd look that Sam squirmed under. "You're kidding, right?" Sam was a Winchester- girls, alcohol, and killing monsters was what they did.

"Nevermind." Sam mumbled, leaning back over his textbook.

"Wait a minute." Dean let the chair fall back onto four legs, taking his off of the table in favor of leaning over it. "You're serious? You've never kissed a girl?" Sam shook his head, refusing to look up. He took a minute to decide how to answer. Nothing good came to him. "I don't know how to explain it." His eyebrows came together. "It's fun, I guess." He grinned again. "Like sex."

Sam looked up. "Yeah, because that helps," he said his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Dean sighed and decided to try another angle. "It feels good, you know? Like jacking off." Sam's head dropped, looking back at the textbook. Dean shrugged, taking another pull off of his beer. Sam did not look up from his textbook, though Dean could tell he was chewing on his lip again. "Please tell me your kidding." Sam lowered his head further. "You've never touched yourself?" Dean asked bewildered.

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Dean asked, trying to understand. He cocked his head to the side waiting for his brother to answer. When he had first discovered how good it felt he had a hard time not touching himself. It was one of the few things he could do by himself with nobody telling him he's doing something wrong. If it felt good it was obviously right.

"Don't want to," Sam muttered lifting his head ever so slightly, his face pink with embarrassment.

Dean snorted. "You don't know what you're missing."

...

All of their lives, the brothers had shared a bed. Hunting was not a paying job and they lived on the road making it difficult for them to have time, let alone space, apart from each other. Every now and again they would run across a room with separate bedrooms but for the most part they shared a bed while John had the other. They didn't care, they were brothers after all, it's not like they had anything to hide from each other. That night, however, was the first night Dean really noticed his baby brother was growing up.

The older brother was finally drifting off to sleep, laying on his stomach like always, when Sam rolled over pressing his erection into Dean's hip. Slowly he opened his eyes, and was greeted with Sam's sleeping face close to his. Dean debate on whether or not he should move. He did not want to wake his little brother but was unsure about what his reaction would be when he woke up. Embarrassment probably. Deciding that it would be better if he did not disturb him, Dean closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep. Sam moved, ever so slightly and Dean's eyes popped open once more. It was going to be a long night.

John's snoring woke Sam. Their father was passed out on top of the covers, still fully clothed including his boots. The youngest Winchester awkwardly moved away from his brother, embarrassed he had been pressed up against him but Dean seemed to be asleep and the tightness in his groin, he moved to a more comfortable position on his back and tried to go back to sleep. It would have been easier if the room was dark, but instead the light from a nearby street light was coming through the window and giving just enough light to be distracting. For some reason he could not take his eyes off of the mound under the blanket he knew to be Dean's ass. Even covered with the bulky comforter he knew how perfectly shaped it was and... Sam pushed the thought to the back of his mind and forced his eyes closed. He knew it was going to be a long night.

...

The night was long for both boys. One would move and the other would wake up and vice versa. It seemed to be an unending cycle until Dean decided it was as good a time as any to get up sunlight was starting to creep it's way into the room. Sam and John were still asleep.

Dean tried to get out of bed without waking Sam and found it difficult. He tried to move his hand to give himself leverage to push himself up but froze when it brushed against something at hip level that twitched in response. Oh. Sam continued to snore softly. Quickly, in one swift motion, he jerked his hand up before placing it beside his head on the pillow. With both hands on opposite sides of his head, Dean pushed himself up and out of bed without disturbing his brother. He checked his watch as he pulled on his jeans. Six. Damn.

Sam woke up roughly an hour later. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he felt something warm and sticky against his thigh. It took a minute to figure out what had happened but when it dawned on him, he covered his face with his hands in shame. He couldn't believe what had happened.

"Hey Sammy, you hungry?" Dean asked, sitting at the table. The younger boy went stiff, mortified that his brother would make fun of him for his accident. "Hey, are you alright?" Dean got out of his chair to investigate what was wrong with his brother. Taking a look, it was obvious what had happened. He gripped Sam on the shoulder, offering a smile. "Hey, it's okay. Happens to the best of us. You go get in the shower, get yourself cleaned up, and I'll take care of the sheets." Sam nodded, crawling out of bed and walking into the bathroom.

...

Sam spent most of the day sulking while their father slept his hangover off. Dean had tried to convince him it was not a big deal, that it happened to everyone and that there was nothing to be ashamed of but Sam did not listen. He did not care what everyone did, he cared that he had done it in front of his brother. He didn't want Dean to think of him as his baby brother who needed to be taken care of when something like this happened, he wanted to be seen as his equal.

"Come on, Sammy, don't be upset. It happens, no big deal." He draped an arm around his brother's shoulders but Sam just shrugged him off. "It's a sign you're growing up is all."

It broke Dean's heart to watch Sam beat himself up over something he could not help. Wet dreams happened, that's life, but for some reason it bothered Sam. He thought if he was caught doing something equally embarrassing, Sam would feel better about it.

Later that night, while John was out doing whatever it is John did, Dean made his move. He hid in the bathroom, keeping the door open slightly. He hoped that this worked.

Sam was sitting on the bed, flipping through a comic book when he first heard it. A groan. Sam looked up, looking around to see where the noise was coming from. Another grunt soon followed, and then a hiss. To Sam it sounded like someone was in pain. Getting out of bed, he decided to see what was going on. A moan, low and throaty came from the bathroom. He made his way over to the door thinking Dean had gotten hurt somehow, his plan was to knock on the door and see if his brother was okay but the door was already open slightly. Opening it wide enough to see through, any question he had died in his throat.

He was not in pain.

Sam wanted to look away, to pretend he did not see what he did but it was as if he was rooted to the spot. Dean was wearing nothing but his boxers and leaning over the toilet, one hand on the wall supporting him, his head bowed. His free hand moving. He could see the muscles working in his back as his hand moved. He could hear the other boy panting, groaning occasionally, as he worked. There was only one thing he could be doing.

Sam's body betrayed him, obviously enjoying the sight before if he had heard Sam make a noise behind him, Dean's head turned to face him, eyes half closed, a smile on his face, and hand still moving as if nothing had interrupted him. Blushing, his face burning, he turned and ran back to the bed.

...

Dinner was awkward for Sam. Their father had taken them to a local greasy spoon for a change of scenery. Sam decided to sit on the opposite side of Dean, choosing to sit beside tried to keep his eyes on his burger but occasionally he would look up and Dean would smile and wink at him. Sam did not understand why Dean did not seemed embarrassed in the slightest that he had been walked in on? If anything he seemed amused.

When John excused himself to use the bathroom, Dean leaned forward across the table, an easy smile on his face. "What's the matter? You seem a little tense."

"I'm sorry." Sam picked at his fries.

"There is nothing to be sorry about." Dean's grin got wider.

Sam glanced up, turning pink. "But I walked in on you."

"So? It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a beautiful and natural thing, Sammy." His voice dropped a few notes as he leaned in further. "I'm not ashamed of doing something that felt so good. Pleasure is not a sin, you know." He leaned back into the booth, an easy grin still on his face though Sam was red.

When John came back, Sam was still blushing.

"Dean, don't tease your brother." John gave him a stern look.

He didn't know half of it.

...

John went to bed early that night with a promise that they would be heading out in the morning. Dean had stripped down to his boxers, climbing into bed, opting to lay on his back. Sam, still embarrassed, climbed in wearing an old pair of sweat pants, he tried to give his brother room, afraid that Dean wouldn't want to sleep in the same bed with him. His brother, however, seemed perfectly at ease.

"Come on, Sam. Calm down." Dean sighed, noticing how tense his brother was. "What's wrong, huh? You can't still be embarrassed." Sam nodded, eyes downcast. "It's fine, okay? You did nothing wrong." Sam shrugged halfheartedly. "No, Sam, you did nothing wrong. It's a natural thing. It happens." Dean turned on his side to face his brother.

"I'm still sorry, for what I seen too." Sam mumbled.

"I've told you, don't be. Never be ashamed of your body." He touched his forehead to Sam's.

"It's just so... personal." Sam felt his face grow hot. Why was it so easy to get embarrassed around his brother? Why couldn't he be cool, calm, and collected? Why did he have to b a ball of nerves?

"Why does it have to be? Why can't it just be a release of endorphins?

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You know what endorphins are?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. Sex Ed was my best subject." That made Sam laugh. If there was anything that was not a secret from anybody it was Dean's sex drive. Sam got into a comfortable position before he fell asleep, wondering where Dean had learned everything.

...

Dean couldn't sleep. His plan to help his brother had backfired. Sam did not feel any better about his incident the morning before, if anything he felt more ashamed of himself. Shit. What was he going to do? He couldn't let Sam go through puberty alone the way he had done, unsure about what was going on around him. Their father just was not the nurturing sort. The question was, how was he going to do it?

For his baby brother he would do anything- go any distance- to make him happy. It wouldn't matter what Sam asked, he would do it in a heartbeat. If only there was a way to help him through this.

He fell asleep, still unsure what to do.

...

The four hour car ride was uneventful. They decided they both wanted to ride in the backseat. It did not matter to Dean that there was nothing he could say to Sam in front of John he just wanted him to know he was there for him. Sam apparently did not pick up on the hint.

When they had stopped at a gas station to fill up, Dean leaned in close to his brother to whisper in his ear. "Let me help you."

Sam turned his head away from the window. "With what?"

"You know what." Dean's eyes widened, hoping Sam would pick up on the hint. "I can help you if you would let me." Sam turned back to the window.

"No, Dean. It's juts to personal." His voice was barely audible.

"I'm your brother. If there was anyone that could be trusted to take care of you it would be me." Dean responded but let the matter drop. Soon, they were back on the road to the next place they would call home.

The room was small but surprisingly clean. It was barely big enough for the two queen beds that had been crammed inside and a microscopic bathroom adjoining. It was going to be cramped. After dumping his duffel, John wasted no time in going to the library, leaving the boys alone. Sam tried to keep himself busy, reading an old worn out paperback to distract himself from thinking about what his brother had said wasn't as if he didn't trust his brother but he thought this was just something he had to figure out himself, no matter how frightened he was of it. He had always thought about it being something taboo and now he was finding out his brother did it. He just wasn't sure if he was ready.

Thoughts of the day before came flooding back to him, a waterfall of emotions. "First curiosity at what was making such a hurt sound, worry that his brother had somehow gotten injured, shock at seeing what was really going on, and finally arousal. He could still see the way the muscles had contracted in Dean's back, could hear the soft sounds he made. and finally the way he had looked at him. Happy did not even begin to explain it.

Sam could feel his body betraying him again at the memory. Biting his lip, he looked at the bathroom door where Dean was currently in the shower. Slowly he reached down to rub a hand at himself through the fabric of his jeans when the bathroom door opened and out walked his brother, clad only in his only pair off jeans. Sam tried not to look guilty as he looked back down at his book.

"Hey, Sammach!" Dean said happily, flopping down beside his brother on he bed. "Frankenstein again? Don't you ever get tired of reading that?" Dean asked, knowing just from how worn the book was what the title was.

"It's a classic." Sam mumbled. "Maybe I'll pick up a new book while we are here." He hated the way his voice broke and how he could feel the heat radiating off of his brother just from the shower, his hair still dripping. He became more aware of the discomfort in his jeans. He shifted in attempt to find a more comfortable position with no luck.

"Why so tense?" Dean asked with a small smile, a knowing look in his eye.

"I'm not." He turned the page.

"Uh, huh." The older boy got off of the bed, crouching at the end to grab his duffel from the end of the bed. "The offer still stands. I'll help you if you want." Sam watched as Dean looked through the items in his bag before he found the shirt he wanted, a lump in his throat. What did he mean, anyway? How could he help?

Sam let out a sigh. "What are you even talking about?" Dean looked pointedly at Sam's crotch as if he could see what he was trying to hide. Sam's face burned.

"Sammy, you're my baby brother. Why won't you let me help you?" He asked, pulling the shirt on over his head.

"Why is it so important to you?"

Dean sat back down on the bed beside his brother. "I just want you to be happy. I'm no good with the touchy feely self help yoga crap This is one of the only things I'm good at outside ganking evil sons of bitches." He offered a smile.

Sam shifted again. What did he have to loose? At the worst they never talk about it again. At best he got off, he guessed. He let ou another sigh. "Okay. What do I do?"

Dean smiled, "trust me."

Dean got off of the bed and instructed his brother to lay back and take off his jeans. Sam did as he was told, his hands shaking as they undid the button.

"It's okay." Dean reassured him. "Everything is going to be fine." When his jeans were undone, he pulled them down past his thighs. "Underwear too Sam, unless you want to get them all wet and sticky." Sam glared, but did as he was asked.

"Now just, you know, touch it." He winced at his own wording. Sam did not seem to mind the way it was said, he was too nervous, his body trembling. Licking his lip, he lowered his hand to his groin before running two fingers up the length.

"That's not going to do it. You have to take it in your hand, like a handshake." Sam did as he was told, taking his member in his hand before looking to Dean for more instructions. "Now stroke it." Sam's hand began to move in slow strokes, a pained expression on his face.

Sam let go, sitting up. "I don't know about this Dean." Sam told him, still trembling and eyes cloudy.

"It's okay, Sam. You just need to relax. The pressure is a good thing." Sam shook his head, reaching for his boxers. Dean had promised it would feel good but all he had felt was a churning in the pit of his stomach.

"Just forget it, okay?" Sam mumbled, beginning to pull his boxers up but was stopped by Dean placing a hand on his wrist. He had no experience dealing with doing this sort of thing with another guy, Dean preferred the ladies, but he figured what worked for him would probably work for Sam. He hoped so at least.

"Trust me." There was something in the way Dean said it that made him stop and look up into his brothers beautiful green eyes. "I'll take care of you if you give me a chance." Nodding slowly, Sam let go of his shorts. Gently, Dean urged him back, onto his elbows. His eyes raked over his brother, stopping at his member. Swallowing hard, he looked back into Sam's eyes. "May I?" Sam nodded, his eyes wide and his breathing already coming out in pants.

Dean reached out and took Sam's length in his hand. The youngest Winchester let out a shaky breath. Slowly he began pumping his little brother, his eyes baring into the brown and green color of Sam's. "Relax, it's okay." Sam nodded but his body did not stop shaking. Dean ran his thumb over the slit, bringing forth a whimper. Taking it as a good sign, he went a little faster. Sam let his head fall back, biting into his lip.

"How does that feel, Sammy? Good?" The boy froze, his eyes wide as he looked back up at his brother.

"D- Dean!" He gasped, trying to sit up.

"Shhh, it's okay. This is the good part. Sam shook his head, eyes still wide, and tried to sit up. He was so close, Dean couldn't let himself do something like that to Sam. Not thinking, Dean leaned forward and pressed his moth to Sam's. Moving his mouth against his brothers, turning his head every now and then, he continued to work him, Sam awkwardly copying his movements.

With a moan, Sam let go, his seed spilling forth. When Dean was sure his brother was spent, he let go. Sam lay on the bed, a smile on his face.

"There's the smile I've been looking for." Dean placed another kiss on Sam's lips.

"Shut up."

...

A small part of Dean knew what they were doing was wrong but he knew they would never stop. Sam was his world, his everything, and he knew Sam felt the same way.

He blamed John but never regretted what they had together. After all, how could something that felt so right ever be wrong?