Dean walked into the steamy bathroom. He didn't bother saying anything to Sam, just reached past the end of the shower curtain to find his brother's naked shoulder, and felt Sam's tension immediately release. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly the way he did every time they did this.
It had become a routine, Dean helping Sam get off in the shower after their daily hunts so that Sam could have a release without Lucifer lurking nearby. The difference in Sam's personality now he wasn't completely frustrated was like night and day. Sam was cheerful and helpful. He made breakfast, he went on beer runs and didn't forget the pie, he didn't argue when Dean played Master of Puppets on a constant loop for a 4 hour drive (Dean had tested this on several occasions, just to see what would happen, and though Dean now needed a break from his favourite Metallica album, Sam just sat quietly with a bemused smile on his face). Sam even packed the Impala without argument each morning. Even when Dean deliberately tried to push his buttons by bossing him around and rearranging the things Sam had already carefully arranged, Sam didn't argue. The kid was a joy to have around.
Like any of the bizarre and unpleasant aspects of their job, Dean was finding that he barely noticed the discomfort he'd initially felt in being part of such an intimate aspect of his younger brother's life. And if he wasn't lying to himself, he was actually starting to enjoy it. He preferred it when he lied to himself. He preferred to pretend he was thinking about beautiful, buxom Asian girls while he stroked his cock quietly after Sam had fallen asleep at night. Stretched out next to Sam in the motel bed, their feet tangled together to ensure they remained in contact through the night to keep the devil away, Dean bit back his breathy cries as he relieved the brutal hard-on he'd been sporting from the moment he touched his younger brother in the shower that evening. He wasn't thinking about the long, lean muscles in his brother's back arching and releasing as he came in the shower with Dean's hand on his hot skin. He wasn't thinking about Sam moaning his name as the orgasm ripped through him. He wasn't thinking those things at all.
Sam's light whimper breath brought Dean back to the present moment in the steamy room, and he heard the slick slap of his brother's hand working his dick behind the thin shower curtain. Dean's own dick was painfully hard in his jeans and he tried to adjust it to a more comfortable position. The extra room helped a bit, and his hand lingered against his hard length, palming himself through his jeans. He lightly traced his fingers over the fabric along his shaft and it pulsed with the attention.
Dean's left shoulder began to cramp from him holding his arm up so high on Sam's shoulder, so he slid his hand down his brother's slick back to a more comfortable position. As it always did when he made this shift, his cock danced at the feel of Sam's muscles undulating under his touch, and even more so at the hoarse moan his brother was no longer trying to stifle. His jeans felt impossibly tight against his increasing erection. He made a decision.
Fuck it. Dean thought. I've already been to Hell. And with that he began unbuckling his belt.
"Dean?" Sam questioned from behind the curtain, turning his body suddenly at the sound of the buckle causing Dean's hand to slide across his hip and onto Sam's firm abs. Oh, God. Was that Sam's fucking treasure trail?
"Shut up, Sammy," Dean growled and unzipped his jeans.
Dean's cock sprang out against the confines of his boxer briefs as he pulled the denim down with his one free hand. He stroked his other hand lightly against Sam's abdomen to counter his harsh tone and reassure his little brother that everything was okay. Sam remained motionless for a few beats more, then Dean felt him relax and resume the rhythm of his own strokes. Sam's hand brushed against Dean's on the upstroke, and Dean realized his fingers were a bare inch from Sammy's cock.
That thought shouldn't have made his dick dance the way it did, but Dean decided that none of the rules that applied to normal life applied here. When had their lives ever been normal? He slid his left hand back to the small of Sam's back in the shower and used his right hand to slide the waistband of his boxers down to his knees. The small, steamy room felt hotter than ever as Dean began to touch himself, knowing his younger brother was doing the same thing just beyond the thin, vinyl curtain.
Dean licked his hand, getting his fingers as slick with saliva as he could before returning his hand to stroke the length of his cock. A small, low sound escaped his lips, and Dean heard the sound mirrored by Sam, whose breath was getting more and more ragged. Dean swirled his fist around the head of his cock, adding the leaking beads of pre-come to the lubrication from his saliva. His head dropped down to his chest as the intensity of pleasure sapped his ability to fully control his muscles. Dean slid his left hand across Sam's back to grip Sam's sharp hip bone so he wouldn't lose his grip on Sam at the wrong moment. The movement of Dean's hand across his skin drove a deep cry from Sam. Dean sped up his rhythm, driven by the gasps and moans his brother was making barely a foot away. He was so close.
Dean felt his younger brother's whole body tense and buck as he came. Dean had to wrap his left hand tighter around Sam's hip and waist to keep ahold of him as he rode out his orgasm, then Dean felt his fingers splashed with something hot and sticky. The realization that the warm substance was Sam's come on Dean's hand sent a shockwave of pleasure through the older brother. Fuck, he was going to come so hard.
Dean felt his balls tighten as he jacked himself harder, then his twitching cock shot a hot, wet load over his hand and stomach. His dick continued to pulse for several moments as his nervous system was rewritten by pleasure. Dean stumbled, dizzy with ecstasy, and would have fallen into the shower if Sam weren't such an immovable object. Panting, Dean rested his head against the bulk of his brother, the two men still separated by the vinyl curtain.
After about a minute, Sam pulled back the curtain and propped his brother back onto his feet. Sam's eyes were bright as he wrapped his hips in a towel, then stepped onto the jeans and boxers that were pooled at Dean's feet. Dean looked up at him, still confused and disjointed by his orgasm, until Sam gently pushed his older brother to step forward, out of the discarded clothing, and into the shower.
"Cleanup in Aisle 4," Sam said with a smirk before pulling the vinyl curtain closed.