Title: Keep Holding On
Author: PrinceOfHell
Genre: Romance, Angst, Tragedy
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sam's got a crush on his 17 year old brother. He knows it's wrong, but he knows he can't help it either. Someone (a very not-nice someone) at his school suspects something weird is going on with him and does something about it. It all goes downhill for Sam and Dean, but a little brother needs his elder brother, no matter what.
Disclaimer: They're not mine (unfortunately)
A/N: This idea came from life. I know that sounds pretty cliche, but it's true nonetheless. I, and many other teens struggle with their sexuality anywhere from the age of when they find out, to when they're adults. And sometimes, no one's there to help. A lot of what will happen in this fic happened to me personally and has happened to many before me and probably many in the future. We need it to stop, but it will take an army. I thank God every time I see an anti-bullying commercial or one of those "That's so gay" commercials because that means someone's trying. I wrote this fic because I love writing and I want to show how, whether it's because you love your brother, or just have bad acne, and it's resulting in bullying, that it's okay. Someone will come along in your life and help you. Please enjoy and comment if you'd like.

"I don't feel good, Dean. I can't go to school if I don't feel good." Sam slapped on his most pitiful puppy face and coughed into his hand. He scooted under the covers until they were up to his chin and sniffed loudly to add some pizazz to his act. But...

Dean's cool hand was covering his little brother's forehead and as soon as flesh touched flesh, he knew Sam was faking it. He didn't have a fever, and those coughs were pathetic. He could have done better.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes at his pathetic younger sibling and sat on the edge of his bed, the springs squeaking a bit.

"I know you're not sick. So what? Math test? Nah. Little Sammy loves math. Girl troubles. Nah. No girl would come near you."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's show. He would be hurt at the last comment, but Dean had said worse things in his life. And if it got Sam out of telling Dean the real reason he didn't want to go to school, he would let his older brother call him anything.

"No, Dean. I just don't feel good. Lemme stay home. Please?" Sam was about to turn on the waterworks. Dean could never stand to see his baby brother cry and he would cave like a rockslide at the sight of one tear.

Cold air swam over Sam as his blankets were pulled off his body. Dean threw the sheets onto the floor and grabbed Sam by his ankles.

"Dean, don't. Seriously."

A smirk flashed across Dean's face as he started to pull Sam off his bed and onto the floor. An ankle turned and slipped out of his grasp, kicking him in the chest. Air flew out of his lungs and he let go of Sam's feet. Rubbing his chest, he huffed and smirked at his little brother.

"Nice kick, Sammy. That almost hurt. Now getcha ass out of bed and let's go to school." Dean walked to his own bed and grabbed the leather jacket that was hanging from the post. "I'm gonna go start the car. If you're not out there in five, you are getting your ass kicked so hard, dude." Dean turned and walked into the hallway toward the front door, shrugging his jacket on as he went.

A short burst of anger ran through Sam at his brother's attitude, but it was soon washed away with fear. He had to go to school. His ruse didn't work.

He said a quick prayer of protection as he slipped on pants, shirt, socks, shoes, and jacket and raced out the door before his brother really did kick his ass.


The Impala rumbled to a stop in the parking lot of Hamilton. The local middle and high school for kids of Copenhagen, New York. Sam and Dean were staying at an apartment a few miles away while their dad was on a hunt for something grabbing hikers Danbury, CT. Typical times for the Winchesters, of course.

Sam stepped out of the car and pulled his jacket against the chilly wind blowing right through him. He feigned a cough for the fun of it and heard Dean scoff as they walked toward the front doors of Hell.

"If I even hear a rumor that you walked home early, you're in trouble. You've already missed a day this week, and two last week. You can't keep this up or dad's gonna have a cow when he gets back."

The warmth of the building engulfed Sam as he opened the metal door into the school. Dean ruffled his hair and whispered a "Have a good day, Sammy." into his ear and walked into the sea of people. Sam shivered at the warm spot on his his neck where his brother had breathed. He inhaled, exhaled, counted to ten, baseball, taxes, etc.

It was going to be a long day.


Sam had no earthly clue where he was; only that strong arms were holding him against a cold wall. For some reason he couldn't keep his eyes open and why the FUCK was everything so confusing? His thoughts kept straying from his mind like they were leaking out of his ear and he was losing time. The only constants were those arms and that wall.

Warm water rained down on him and he finally understood. The pain in his side reminded him of the hunt he, Dean, and their father were on. A glawackus in the shape of a lion was terrorizing a forest in Ohio and it had dug its claws into Sam's side.

The pain shot through his body as the water ran down the three jagged wounds. Moans escaped past his lips and his eyes opened to see Dean in the shower with him, holding him up and cleaning him up.

"De-ean. Fuck." He whined through gritted teeth.

"I know, Sammy, I know. Just stay with me, okay? You gotta stay awake." Dean's hands wandered across Sam's skin, cleaning the wound and the dirt from his body.

Sam had the brief sense that he could feel his insides and he knew that was wrong. Moving was awkward and painful so he kept his back against the tile and let Dean talk to him; keep him awake.

All of a sudden Dean was gone from Sam's vision, but he could still feel his brother's hands on his legs. Another moan escaped his mouth as he realized where Dean was. He shut his eyes and imagined Dean on his knees, looking at Sam's wound, face inches away from his dick.

Sam shook his head. No, no. That's not what he was supposed to be thinking about. Thoughts like that were bad. Nononononono.

The insistent chanting in Sam's head didn't work as the length at his hips grew hard, despite the pain. He hit his head against the shower wall, slamming his eyes shut, praying as hard as he could that Dean wouldn't say anything.

He could tell when his brother noticed because the hands inspecting the wound stopped the figure in front of him stood up and turned the water off. Sam didn't dare open his eyes as Dean wrapped Sam's arm around his shoulder and moved him to sit on the closed toilet seat.

The motion sent flashes of icehot pain up his side, but it helped with his previous problem.

Dean continued to fix him up, acting as if nothing had happened. They were teenage boys. Shit happened, right? It was the adrenaline. Had to be.


Sam's day at school was like any other's... Except not. He would sneak around corners to his locker, sneak around corners to his classes, but they always found him. No matter what stealth techniques he used, they always found him.

"Hey Sammy... What's happening? You have sex with your brother lately? You look a little wound up."

Everett King was a sophomore at Sam's school. He walked around with a smirk on his face, much like Dean's, and pushed kids into lockers and trashcans. Unfortunately, he liked Sam. Or hated him. All depends how you look at it.


Sam scrambled into his seat in class and immediately opened his sketch pad to his most recent work. The kid had a knack for drawing, especially one subject. The profile of Dean's face was beautifully drawn onto the pristine white paper. If you flipped through the pages, you would see his brother in different poses. Sitting on the couch with a laugh on his face, staring off of the page with bright green eyes, even a few of Dean sprawled on his bed, naked, cock in hand.

Sam knew that his notebook was never to be seen by anyone but him and shit would hit the fan if anyone found it ever.

But, unfortunately, he was Sam Winchester, and luck didn't seem to follow him much.

"Hey, squirt. Whatcha doin?" The whisper in his ear was Everett. This is where the nightmare started.

The two shared art class together, even though the neanderthal showed no skill in the arts at all. So he spent his time bugging Sam.

The sketch pad was ripped from Sam's hands while the teacher had left the room and he was proceeding to dangle it over Sam's head. And, of course, being of his small stature, Sam could do nothing but jump and make a fool of himself.

Someone grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him away from Everett who flipped through the pages of the book, expecting nothing but bowls of fruit and trees and shit.

The look on the sophomore's face changed from smiling to wide-eyed and mouth open.

"Shit, Winchester. You got the hots for a dude." Everett started to rip out all of the pictures that Sam had drawn of his brother and threw them on the floor at his feet. Sam went lax in the grip of whoever had him and knew his life was ruined.

He turned in the grip and punched the teen in the jaw, hard enough that blood flew through the air. As the boy recovered, Sam turned and frantically picked his beloved art off of the floor, trying his hardest to hide who the man was he was madly in love with.


Someone in that art room had seen one of the drawings of just a face and clearly recognized Dean Winchester, the artist's brother. The news spread through the room and hell swallowed Sam up.

Sam tried his hardest to ignore the tauntings of the boy as he continued his walk down the hall, but it was so hard not to when the rest of of the hallway snickered behind their books or ignored him like he was the plague.

He didn't know how they always managed to find him when Dean wasn't around. He was surprised Dean hadn't heard anything from one of his friends about all of the incidences that had occurred. Maybe it was just so taboo and unlikely no one had said anything.

He doubted Dean hadn't heard anything, but he wouldn't bring it up with Sam. That would be awkward and the brothers Winchester just didn't do awkward well.

Sam managed to pass Everett in the small hallway, but the teen decided to follow him.

"Hey, W-incest-er. What's it like? You the top or is he?" Everett grabbed Sam's shoulder and turned him to face him. "Fag, I asked you a question."

Sam tried his best glare out on the boy, but just received a laugh in return. Yeah, Sam could kick his ass, but he wanted to be normal and he didn't want Dean or his dad to find out just why he kicked Everett's ass.

Everett grabbed Sam by the throat and slammed him into a locker. His head banged against the slats and he knew there would be a goose-egg there soon. He wrapped his hands around Everett's fairly large ones and pulled.

"Get the fuck off me, Ev. Fuck you." He kicked forward and connected with shin, immediately regretting the decision.

The sophomore's face went from gleeful to pissed in point-six seconds and a fist came swinging at Sam's head. The impact was so hard, he didn't feel it at first. He felt himself slide down the locker and onto the cold floor, heard the bell ring and all the students scuffle away. A dull ache started behind his eye and he knew he would probably have a nice shiner.

"Fuck." Sam gathered his things and headed toward the lunchroom where he and Dean had lunch together everyday. He was dreading talking to his brother and having to create a lie in such a short time.

Dean was standing next to the door where he always waited for Sam when Sam walked in. Sam could see the anger spreading across his big brother's face as soon as he saw the reddening spot on his cheekbone. Sam knew he was royally pissed. His eyes went from a bright green to a dark forest and he stomped over to Sam.

"What the fuck happened, Sam? Who did this?" Dean grabbed Sam's chin and turned his head toward the light so he could see the damage better.

With Dean's hand clenching his jaw, Sam tried to talk the best he could. "It was nothing. I know you're not gonna believe me, but I just got into a scuffle over a project with someone. You should see him." Sam jerked his head from his brother's grip when he saw Everett walk though the other cafeteria door. You could hear his laughs and taunts from where they were standing and Sam blushed. Fuck.

Dean looked up at the entering teen and sighed, knowing. "Dude, you've taken bigger. He's not even that big. Why didn't you beat the shit out of him?"

Sam's emotions shot up and he moved into Dean's space, glaring at his brother. "We have the conversation every fucking time someone touches me. I'm not going to fight them back. I'm not even going to try. I am a normal kid from a normal family and I will NOT beat the shit out of someone over something so petty as a project.," he hissed, sticking with his lie. "Besides, it's just a black eye. 've had worse."

Sam moved away from Dean and walked back out through the cafeteria doors. He didn't want to watch what Dean was going to do to Everett and he wasn't hungry anyway.


A/N: Okay, now I'm done. With chapter one anyway. What I said in the notes at the beginning is true. It's gonna get bad. I don't know if I've got the writing talent to portray how bad it is, but I'm going there. Tell me what you think. 3