As much as Dean loved having a roof over his head, there is still one thing that he hated doing.

Laundry.

Dean was currently in the Bat Cave's laundry room, which consisted of four massive washers and dryers, all from the 1950s. They worked just fine, but Dean had trouble in figuring out how they worked. This time was no different. He muttered and cursed as he pressed buttons, trying his damndest to get the washer to work. He was out of clean clothes, and he was angry. He and Sam had just gotten back from a three week long hunt out in the wilderness of North Dakota, tracking and killing three different black dogs. The last one had been a blood bath, and Dean's right leg was currently wrapped in a cast, and Sam's left arm was broken. Had it not been for quick reactions on both of their parts, they would both have been far worse off for wear.

Dean was thinking that this whole hunting thing was starting to get old.

He finally gave up on washing his clothes, and fished his cell phone out of his pocket, calling Sam.

Sam answered after a couple of rings. "Yeah?"

"Sammy, where are you?"

"Kitchen. Why, do you need something?"

Dean sighed. "I need help in the laundry room."

"I'll be right there." The other end of the line went dead, and Dean leaned against the wall, waiting for Sam. He absolutely hate being defeated by something so simple as a washer, but combined with his already heightened irritability and the fact that he was exhausted of travel, he was ready to just give up.

Sam came in just a moment later, and he saw the defeated look on Dean's face. "You know Dean, you don't have to let the washer get you down so much. It's okay if we replace these antiques."

"I know Sammy it's just... it's a matter of pride, you know?"

"Yeah, and this is the third time you've given up." Dean scowled at him, but Sam wasn't backing down from this. He stepped closer to Dean, pushing just a couple of buttons and the washer turned on and began to fill the water. "It's not hard Dean, really."

Dean shoved Sam aside, muttering under his breath about know it all baby brothers and stupid fucking washing machines. Sam shook his head and left the laundry room, leaving Dean to seethe by himself.

As Dean loaded his clothes in the washer, he noticed that they were looking a lot more threadbare. How long had it been since he and Sam had gotten new clothes? Aside from their fed attire, they hadn't gotten new street clothes in a really long time, and maybe, just maybe, some modern stuff in the Bat Cave wouldn't hurt. After all, Sam had his fancy computers, and Dean had installed the biggest TV he could find in one of the former rec rooms, complete with a huge couch and surround sound.

He picked up his crutches and left the laundry room, finding no purpose in just sitting around and waiting for his clothes to be done. He went into the kitchen, where Sam was valiantly trying to cut up one of the steaks that he and Dean had prepared last night after they had gotten home. Dean could tell that Sam was getting frustrated, only having the use of one arm.

He hobbled over to Sam, sitting down in the chair next to him and said "Let me." Sam moved aside, looking rather embarrassed. In spite of the fact that they were both grown men, Dean didn't mind doing stuff like this for Sam when he couldn't do it himself. That was the big brother in him, never being able to quite let that go.

"Last time I cut up your food was when you had that flu in seventh grade."

Sam pulled his plate back over to him. "Yeah, and I was embarrassed as hell, my big brother having to do that for me. At thirteen I should have been able to do it myself. But I could barely move, much less eat." Sam looked at Dean, fixing him with an affectionate look.

Dean's irritability started to melt a litle. "I've never really stopped taking care of you, have I?"

Sam smiled. "I guess not. That's what you're best at Dean, taking care of people." Sam put down his fork and scooted closer to Dean. "Especially me." Sam got a look in his eye, the one that was there when he wanted Dean. He raised his right hand to cup the back of Dean's head, and pulled him in for a kiss, and Dean closed his eyes, letting Sam's lips take away his frustrations. Dean opened his mouth and Sam's tongue was suddenly in it, licking his way in, and Dean, in spite of the fact that he was hopped up on painkillers and he was exhausted beyond belief, felt himself get hard.

Dean broke the kiss and took Sam's hand from the back of his head and pressed it to his crotch, and Sam's pupils got wider with lust. He gave him a knowing look, and Sam, as well as he could, got down on his knees. Dean lifted his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor beside him, and Sam did the same, careful of his arm. Sam tugged at Dean's shorts, easing them down the thick plaster of Dean's leg cast. Dean hadn't bothered with underwear that morning, and his cock sprang free with a loud thwack against his stomach. Sam kissed his way up Dean's injured leg, his good arm rubbing and caressing its way up the other.

When Sam got to Dean's cock, he placed a gentle kiss on the underside, letting it rest on his face while he looked up at Dean, an impish grin on his face. "Whatcha waiting for Sammy?"

"Gotta ask nice Dean." Sam just barely let the tip of his tongue tease up Dean's length, drawing a hiss from Dean at the contact.

"C'mon Sammy, want to feel your mouth on me." Dean tried to push himself forward, the teasing warmth of Sam's breath making him shudder every time Sam exhaled. Sam backed his face away, just out of Dean's reach. "What's that Dean?"

"Sammy, please, want you to suck me. I need that fucking hot mouth on my dick. Been too damn long baby boy." Dean's voice was just on the edge of begging. Over the course of their last hunt they'd barely gotten anytime with each other, not like how they both so intensely desired.

"Come on Dean, you can do it." Sam ran his good hand up Dean's thigh, teasing him more.

"Sammy please, I am begging you. Want to cum for you so bad. Need you to make me feel good." Sam could tell that Dean barely had a hold on his control, between his exhaustion, the painkillers and the need that was coursing through him right now.

Sam smiled and in one slow motion went down on Dean, taking his considerable length all the way into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to form a good, tight seal on him. Dean's hips bucked forward as Sam swirled his tongue around his older brother's cock head, teasing around the crown of it. Sam tasted precum, and he opened his mouth more to get at the taste of it. Dean's cock pulsed in time with his heartbeat, his blood thundering loudly in his ears. Sam watched Dean's face as he bobbed up and down on his cock, letting his hair fall over his face, giving little twitches of his head to clear it so that Dean could see the want in his eyes.

Dean reached out and placed a hand on the back of Sam's head, gathering a fist full of Sam's long brown hair, pulling at it just enough to where Sam felt a twinge of pain in his scalp. Sam moaned, and the vibrations sent Dean's senses into overdrive as he felt the vibration of Sam's voice on his cock. Sam began to suck even harder, using long, twisting movements of his hand in conjunction with his tongue and mouth, and Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head back, giving control over to Sam.

Sam slowed his efforts down, moving slowly, letting Dean enjoy himself more. It had been a long time since he had given him a long, deep blowjob, and he loved giving them to Dean, taking care of him in only the way Sam could.

"So good baby boy." Dean felt his irritation from earlier fade completely, now replaced by Sam and the pleasure he was giving him. A part of his brain said that maybe they should stop since they were in the kitchen and Castiel could walk in on them at any moment, but at this point he couldn't care less. Let him look, he decided.

Sam reached down and cupped Dean's balls, stimulating them and adding to the sensations that was currently traveling through Dean's cock. Dean felt his toes curl, and he hooked his good leg around Sam's back, pulling him closer. Dean heard the chair under him creak as he shifted his weight forward a little more, opening his legs up as wide as he could for Sam. Sam took advantage of the opportunity and moved his hand from Dean's balls down to tease at his entrance, running his finger around the edge of it. Although Dean was in no shape for Sam to fuck him, and frankly neither was Sam, he still wanted Sam to make him lose it, to give himself over completely to Sam's stimulations.

Sam pulled up off of Dean's cock, spit and precum trailing from it to his tongue. He smiled up at Dean. "Look at you, spreading your legs for me. What is it you want Dean? Want me to finger fuck you? Want me to touch you deep inside, make you cum hard?"

"God yes Sammy. Need to feel you, need you to make..." Whatever Dean was going to say next was lost as Sam eased a spit-slick finger into Dean's hot, tight entrance, crooking a finger and brushing over Dean's swollen prostate. Dean moaned, and Sam did his best to hold him steady in the chair. Maybe doing this in the kitchen wasn't the best idea after all. He slowly drug that finger in and out of Dean, watching Dean's cock bounce in time he hit his sweet spot. After a few moments, he added another finger, and Dean cried out even louder, his voice reverberating off the walls of the space. Sam bent his head down and took Dean halfway into his mouth, and he sucked and moved in time with his fingers.

Dean felt like he had died and gone to heaven. Sam was doing his best to remove all of his pent up irritation and frustration out through the end of his cock, and Dean felt himself getting closer to orgasm. Sam must have felt his muscles tense, because he began to fuck in and out of Dean with his fingers a little harder, pressing against his sweet spot more, teasing Dean to climax ever so slowly. Sam wasn't exactly relentless, but Dean felt all of his defenses go down and finally just let himself go, and two seconds later he came, Sam's fingers buried deep inside him, hot cum flooding the inside of Sam's mouth, Dean crying "Sammy" over and over again.

Sam waited until he was sure Dean had came every last drop, and he got up off the floor, and used his good hand to pull Dean's head to his, closing his mouth over it and pushing what he had managed to catch of Dean's cum into his older brother's mouth. Tasting himself like that immediately made Dean hard again, and Sam reached down to free himself of his jeans, a large wet spot having formed on the front where he had been hard and leaking ever since they had started. He gathered up some precum, slicking it over his own cock, and then took some and ran it over Dean's. Sam's mouth was still on Dean's, open mouthed kisses that had caused Dean's cum to spread around their lips, their saliva making it drip down their chins. Sam took a moment to pull back and look at Dean, who had this fucked out expression on his face, smiling like an idiot.

"Whatcha smiling at Dean?" Sam nearly came just from looking Dean's face and lust blown pupils.

"Fucking you Sam. So goddamn sexy." Sam smiled and kissed Dean again, which Dean broke after just a moment. "Got an idea Sammy. Can you get up on the table for me and lay down?" Sam complied, moving aside the plate he had gotten out earlier, the steak that was on it long forgotten. Dean tugged Sam's jeans the rest of the way off, and pushed against Sam's chest, indicating that he wanted him to lay down. Sam did, and Dean moved his chair so that he was facing Sam, watching his hard cock pulse with his heart beat. It was leaking precum steadily, and Dean licked his lips as he watched some of it run down Sam's length, trailing through the dark thatch of pubic hair at the base of his torso. Dean was suddenly glad that he had the use of two hands, knowing exactly what he was going to do so Sam.

Dean moved to blow warm air across Sam's hole, giving a tease of what was to cum. Sam made a noise that sounded halfway between contentment and burning want, and Dean pulled Sam's hips forward, letting his long legs rest on his shoulder, and Dean went to town on him. He licked deep into Sam, using his hands to spread him apart, plunging his hole in and out. Sam reached down and started to jack himself, the combination of his own hand and Dean's tongue making his already heightened arousal that much more exquisite. Dean moaned against Sam's entrance, and the vibrations it caused went straight to Sam's cock, making it even harder.

Sam stroked himself faster, and Dean used his other hand to rub Sam's thigh, the extra sensation burning hot trails into Sam's skin. It was heaven, he told himself. In spite of their injuries, they could still find ways around them to pleasure each other, to love each other. Dean felt Sam's muscles start to pulse and quicken around him, and he knew Sam was close to orgasm. He clamped down around Sam's hole, tongue plunging in and out, and Sam stroked himself further, and it was but a moment more when Dean felt hot cum run down his nose, Sam coming apart above him, cum running from the end of his cock like a river, and he licked Sam through his orgasm, Sam's hips bucking against Dean's face.

Sam finally came down from his high, and relaxed back on the table, chest heaving, body flushed red. He picked his head up and smiled down at Dean, and they both got caught up in the pure pleasure thrumming through their bodies. Sam scooted forward to lean down and kiss Dean hungrily, using his good hand to cup the back of Dean's head.

After breaking apart to gasp for air, Sam smiled down at him and said "I was going to say something earlier but uh... I kind of forgot."

Dean chuckled. "It's alright. I did too. And... thank you."

"For what Dean?"

"Knowing just what I need. "

Sam smiled and kissed him again. "Anytime Dean, really. Also, I'm thinking that getting a more sturdy table was a good idea." Sam patted the wood underneath him.

"Just have to wipe it down before we eat again."

Sam smirked. "But you just did."

Dean cuffed Sam on the shoulder. "You know what I meant bitch."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Come on – let's get dressed before Cas decides to walk in."

. . .

A few weeks later, their injuries were well on the way to recovery. Dean could now move freely save for a sturdy boot on his lower leg, and Sam's arm was now in a brace that allowed him to do pretty much everything save for shoot a gun steadily. Plenty of time to relearn though.

Sam was under Monster changing the oil, humming along with the AC/DC tape currently playing in the stereo that he had bought. He heard footsteps approaching, and then felt a foot tap against his leg. He rolled out from under the car, and looked up seeing Dean standing there, a beer in his hand.

"Look at you, changing your own oil. Good on you Sammy." Dean gave him a warm smile.

Sam rose, taking the beer from Dean's hand and drinking half of it in one gulp. "I learned from you. Kinda hard to forget a good teacher."

Dean smiled and leaned against the hood of the car next to Sam. "I've been thinking about something Sammy."

"Alright."

"I think we need to sit down and seriously consider retirement. For good. Get real jobs, not this."

Sam turned and looked him dead in the face. "You're sure about this?"

"Sammy, it's not worth coming this close to losing you on a regular basis. That last hunt Sam – I thought we were done for. I'm tired of it. No more hunting, no more close scrapes with death. I want to be... normal. Well as normal as we can be. We've saved the world plenty of times over now. I think it's time to hand over the reins." The firm set of Dean's jaw told Sam that he was serious.

"What would we even do Dean? This is kind of a lifestyle for us. An awful, dangerous one but..." Sam really wasn't sure what to say next.

"That's just it Sammy! We can do literally anything we want. Hell we can open a business, one that doesn't involve getting shot at or nests of evil shit. You can go back to law school, I can open a restoration shop... Sam, we've got the world at our fingertips here." The look in Dean's eye was one of excitement.

Sam caught on to it, and he smiled back. "Sam and Dean Winchester, ordinary citizens?"

Dean moved to hold Sam at arm's length. "Just think about it Sam. I never thought I would be the one to propose this but... I want it. Want it to be me and you, not me and you and the monster we're hunting that day. I mean we take care of what we need to do but beyond that Sam – I want normal."

Sam looked at him, a thoughtful look on his face. "That last hunt was a bitch, wasn't it?"

"Damn straight."

"And I really don't like being nearly sliced and diced on a regular basis either."

"Got way too many scars already Sammy." Dean traced a faint one on the side of Sam's face with the fingers of his left hand.

"And it would mean we could spend more time doing this." He pulled Dean forward for a kiss.

Dean broke it after a moment. "Especially that Sammy."

"I don't know Dean, sure you can handle staring Death in the face on a regular basis?"

"Oh I know I can. Fucker's ugly anyway."

Sam smiled. "When can I hand in my resignation?"

It was Dean's turn to kiss Sam. "As soon as you want."

"Consider it done."

Dean felt like he had the world on a string.