Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4747565.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester_&_Sam_Winchester, Weecest
      Relationship/Wincest_Relationship
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Corporal_Punishment, Love_Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional_Sex,
      Barebacking, Established_Relationship, Sam_is_15, Dean_is_19, Mild
      Language
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-09-07 Words: 4100
****** Emotional Devotion ******
by therighteouswriter
Notes
     This story is for my Wincest shipping bestie. ;D I really hope you
     enjoy this, babe! And that the emotional sex is up to par!
     Love you, Sammeh! <3
See the end of the work for more notes
Sam was in agony.
 
He’d been laying in the backseat of the Impala curled up in a tight ball, his
head resting against the passenger’s side door with his big brother’s leather
jacket draped over him as a makeshift blanket when he felt a sudden sharp burst
of pain explode across the lower half of his body. The sensation intense enough
to wake him from a deep sleep.
 
Letting out a pathetic little whine, Sam instinctively stretched out his legs,
both of them aching just behind his knees. He could feel sweat pouring off his
body, his damp, tousled bangs sticking to his forehead; face contorted in a
grimace as he shifted uncomfortably. His movements accidently jarring the seat
in front of him and eliciting an agitated grumble from his father who was
behind the wheel.
 
“Damn it, Sam, sit still.”
 
“I can’t help it, dad! My legs are killing me.”
 
Siting up completely, Sam repositioned Dean’s jacket so that the material was
covering his chest, tucking his arms underneath it. From this new angle, he
could see his big brother in the passenger’s seat, head resting against the
window with his arms folded across his chest. The older boy clearly out like a
light.
 
“S’just growin’ pains, kid, we’ve been over this. Ya just gotta tough it out.
I’ve got maybe an hour of drivin’ left in me then we’ll stop. Get you some
ibuprofen and a real bed.”
 
Sam wanted to argue. He wanted to yell at John; to tell him that he was an
insensitive bastard, but he knew that wouldn’t do him any good. Besides, a
small part of him knew that he was overrating. He was in pain, sure, but he was
also letting his teenaged angst turn him into a drama queen. On the other hand
though, it would have been nice, if just once, John had regarded Sam with a
little bit of sympathy. Every once in a while, he just needed someone to feel
sorry for him and to tell him everything was gonna be alright.
 
Which was why, selfishly, Sam wished Dean was wake right now. His big brother
might not have been able to take the pain way, but at least he wouldn’t have
hesitated to comfort Sam. And that was what Sam really wanted at that point.
Words of encouragement to help take his mind off the pain.
 
“Samuel,” John barked, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Sam had
leaned forward in his seat, hand outstretched in an attempt to nudge Dean’s
shoulder. “Don’t you dare wake your brother up to whine at him. Ain’t nothing
he can do to help you so leave him be.”
 
Narrowing his eyes at his father, Sam hesitated for a moment, hand hovering
over its destination before he defiantly wrapped his fingers around Dean’s
shoulder, shaking him awake. Consequences be damned. He wanted his big brother.
 
“S’wrong, Sammy?” Dean asked groggily, green eyes wild with confusion and
concern as he twisted around in his seat to look at the younger boy.
 
“My legs hurt, Dee,” Sam said miserably, giving his brother a set of puppy dog
eyes that could have made even the biggest, scariest dude on the planet say
‘awww’.
 
“Well, your legs are gonna be the least of your worries when I get done tanning
your ass for disobeying me, boy.”
 
John shot Sam a warning look through the rear view mirror when he started to
protest; Dean’s gaze darting back and forth from his dad to his little brother
all the while, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
 
“M’sorry you’re hurtin’, Sammy,” Dean whispered after a short moment of silence
between the three of them, flinching slightly when John started mumbling
angrily under his breath about him always babying Sam.
 
“Thanks, big brother.”
 
Letting out a frustrated huff, Sam folded his arms over the back of Dean’s
seat, leaning forward so his head was resting next to his brother’s. He could
feel Dean’s cheek pressed against his right elbow, knowing it was the best his
brother could do under their current circumstances. Any display of physical
contact more extravagant than that and John would be sure to pull the car over
right then and there to whoop Sam’s ass.
 
So, Sam sat there quietly for the rest of the trip, furious and in pain, the
only thing keeping him from going off on his dad being the warm, smooth feeling
of his brother’s skin against his. Dean’s touch settling him, holding him
steady like an anchor.
 
 
 
                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
                                        
                                        
                                        
It was almost 10 p.m. by the time the Winchesters reached the little rural town
of Blackey, Kentucky. John still fuming when they checked into the first motel
they came across, the small, rundown establishment giving a whole new meaning
to the word ‘seedy’.
 
“Go to the corner, Samuel,” John ordered, the hazel eyed boy just barely
sitting his duffel bag down on the floor near his brother’s stuff before his
father was on him.
 
“…Dad…can’t ya punish him tomorrow? He’s really hurtin’,” Dean asked timidly as
Sam went to the corner; his little brother’s legs spasming, making it difficult
for him to stand still.
 
“Absolutely not, Dean. Your brother needs to learn to do as he’s told.”
 
“Well, if you weren’t being such a dick, maybe I wouldn’t have had to wake Dean
up!”
 
Sam could practically feel his father’s rage intensifying as he pressed his
forehead against the wall, trying but failing miserably to cover up the fact
that he had begun to cry.
 
“Get over here, Samuel, now.”
 
When Sam turned around, Dean was still standing in the same place he’d been
when the younger boy was ordered to the corner; bright green eyes fixed on his
little brother, clouded with a mixture of sympathy and annoyance.
 
Sam knew Dean hated it when he talked back to John. That Dean couldn’t
understand why Sam didn’t think their father walked on water like he did; but
Sam didn’t care.
 
More pointedly, the fifteen year old so didn’t regret calling John out. Because
once again, the old man had been put in a situation where he needed to be a
father, and like countless times before, he decided to play drill sergeant
instead. And Sam was tired of it.
 
Stalking over to John, who was now sitting at the end of the queen size bed
closest to the bathroom, Sam gave his father a “what the fuck now?” look when
he reached him; standing in front of John with his arms folded across his
chest.
 
“Lay across my lap.”
 
“Screw that, dad! I’m not five anymore!”
 
“Samuel, I swear, if you make me turn you over my knee, you’ll regret it.”
 
Remaining put, Sam glared at John, feet rooted firmly to the floor. The fuck if
he was gonna make this easy on the bastard.
 
“Goddamn it, Sammy. Just do as he says!”
 
Dean’s sudden outburst startled Sam, the younger boy looking over his shoulder
at his brother indignantly. Like he couldn’t even begin to believe that Dean
would suggest such a thing.
 
“But Dea-”
 
“No, Samuel! Don’t argue with me, just do it.”
 
Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could Dean do this to him?
Especially knowing that Sam was already in pain. How the hell could his brother
take John’s side like this?!
 
Balling up his fists, Sam forced himself to walk forward, awkwardly crawling
onto the bottom of the mattress in order to stretch out across his father’s
lap. He buried his face in the blanket, cheeks rosy and heated with blush as
John began to spank him once he was settled. His father’s blows were hard and
relentless, the older man spanking him until Sam wasn’t quite sure if the tears
rolling down his face were from embarrassment or pain; Sam closing his eyes in
an attempt to hide from the shame he was feeling.
 
And after a few minutes of pure torture, John finally stopped; clearly
satisfied with Sam’s punishment enough to relinquish his assault. Eventually
nudging his son in the side to signify that he was allowed to get up.
 
“Get ready for bed. Both of you,” their father demanded as Sam scrambled off
his lap, refusing to look neither John nor Dean in the eyes. “I’m gonna go out
for a drink…need to clear my head,” he added, waiting long enough for Dean to
give him a gruff ‘yessir’ before storming out of the motel without another
word.
 
Rolling his eyes, Sam wasted little time marching over to his duffle bag to
retrieve his pajamas. His ass throbbed as he pulled out a pair of black
basketball shorts, throwing them on the edge of bed their father hadn’t claimed
before he got undressed. He could hear Dean moving around behind him, blood
boiling in his veins at the thought of his big brother.
 
Fucking typical! Dean was giving him the silent treatment, and John had just
plain up and left. Not that he was surprised. His father could dish out a
punishment with the best of em’ but heaven forbid he stick around afterward to
talk shit out.
 
“Sammy?”
 
Sam had just tugged on his basketball shorts and was climbing into bed when he
heard Dean call his name. The tone of his voice low and pain-stricken, causing
Sam’s heart to ache almost as bad as his legs did.
 
“Leave me alone,” the younger boy spat as he curled up on the right side of the
bed, turning his back to Dean.
 
“…Sammy, please…I’m sorry. I- I didn’t want him to spank ya, honest. It’s just-
if you woulda kept arguin’ he woulda gone overboard.”
 
Suddenly, Sam felt his eyes start to well up with tears again even though he
was fighting like hell not to cry. In his heart, he knew what Dean was saying
was true, but that didn’t change the fact that his feelings were hurt.
 
“I hate him.”
 
The younger boy heard his brother sigh wearily, the bed dipping behind him
under Dean’s weight as he leaned over Sam. He could feel his brother’s chest
pressed against his back, warm, tanned skin now bare for the waist up like Sam;
the older boy wearing nothing but a pair of green boxers.
 
“Don’t say that, Sammy…he’s just…he’s frustrated. Raising us on his own can’t
be easy, especially with him hunting...and you refusin' to do as he says ain't
helpin', y'know? Don't get me wrong, I know dad's got crazy strict rules, and
sometimes they seem over the top. But he's got em' cause they keep us safe, and
it frosts his balls when you don’t follow em', even if they seem trivial.”
 
“Dean, don’t!” Sam snapped, abruptly turning onto his back so that he was
looking up at his brother, the older boy visibly stunned by his outburst but
not interrupting him as he continued to rant. “Just don’t. For once, just don’t
try to defend him.”
 
Dean sighed again, but nodded his head in compliance, reaching up with his left
hand to tuck a strand of Sam’s long, messy hair behind his ear.
 
“Alright, baby boy, m’sorry.”
 
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Sam let out a shaky breath as Dean cupped
his cheek in his hand; large, callused palm warm against his tear stained skin.
 
“Your legs still hurtin’ ya?” Dean wondered as he leaned forward to press his
lips against Sam’s forehead; trailing soft, innocent kisses down the side of
his face to his jaw.
 
“…Ye-yeah.”
 
“Want me to rub em’?”
 
Tilting his head to the side, Sam looked up at Dean skeptically, not quite
ready to let go of his anger toward his big brother but at the same time,
extremely tempted by his offer.
 
“C’mon Sammy, let me help.”
 
Sam had to admit, the pleading expression on Dean’s face was almost a worthy
advisory of his puppy dog eyes, and he found himself unable to resist. Slowly,
Sam nodded his head yes, lips turning up at the end in a reluctant smirk when
his brother gave him a shit eating grin before rolling off the bed and making a
beeline for his duffle bag.
 
Supporting himself on his elbows, Sam sat up on the bed. Hazel eyes trained on
Dean, studying him curiously as the older boy rummaged through his things,
eventually producing a half empty bottle of lotion.
 
“Make yourself comfortable, little brother,” Dean cooed, settling down at the
end of the bed near Sam’s outstretched legs.
 
Laying back, Sam propped himself up with his pillow, never taking his eyes off
Dean as his brother squeezed a large glob of lotion into his right palm before
setting the bottle down beside him so he could easily access it.
 
“Where does it hurt the most?”
 
Dean stared at his brother expectantly, rubbing his hands together in order to
warm up the creamy substance for Sam’s benefit.
 
“…My knees.”
 
In response, Dean let out a small noise of recognition, lotion covered hands
coming up to caress the top of Sam’s left knee.
He rolled his thumbs upward repeatedly, at one point accidently pressing hard
enough to make his little brother hiss in pain. Upon hearing the sound of
distress, Dean looked up Sam questioningly, but continued his task when the
younger boy didn’t tell him to stop. Sliding his hands downward, Dean massaged
the tight muscles in Sam’s shin; working at the knots that were scattered
across the top of his little brother’s leg.
 
“Mm, right there, Dee,” Sam moaned when Dean pressed the heel of palm firmly
against the side of his leg, dragging it down to his ankle with force.
 
Before he knew it, Sam was half-hard, his brother’s strong, capable hands on
his body turning him on in ways he didn’t even think were possible; skin
tingling and flushed as Dean switched to his right leg. He could feel pleasure
beginning to bubble up in his chest, the sensation slowly spreading throughout
his body, working to engulf his pain and erase it completely.
 
“Feel good?”
 
Dean’s tone was low and sensual; the older boy sounding every bit as wrecked as
Sam felt.
 
“Yeah, s’good…Dee, please.”
 
Without thinking, Sam slipped his right hand between his legs, palming himself
through his shorts in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the built up
pressure; everything from his belly button down feeling as though it were on
fire, need consuming his senses and driving him crazy.
 
“Sammy, we can’t...Dad could walk in any minute,” Dean argued although his
voice was strained; the older boy looking up at his brother wantonly, freckled
cheeks flushed, bright green eyes almost black with lust.
 
Letting out a frustrated huff, Sam, after a short deliberation, decided to
ignore his brother’s objection in favor of slipping out of his basketball
shorts; Dean sitting back on his heels, mouth falling open in shock as Sam
tossed the article of clothing to the floor.
 
“C’mon big brother, please,” Sam begged, rolling his hips slowly as he fucked
into his own fist; filthy, needy sounds ripping from his throat and filling the
otherwise quiet room.
 
“…Shit…”
 
In a flash, Dean was on top of Sam, holding both of the younger boy’s arms
above his head by his wrists as he kissed him furiously; bodies grinding
together in desperation.
 
“I-oh God, Dee- I need you.”
 
“Shh, baby, I’ll give you what you need…couldn’t say no to you if I tried.”
 
Sam whimpered in protest when Dean suddenly rolled off him, the older boy
getting up to quickly pull off his boxers before making one last trip to his
duffle bag for lube. And once he’d retrieved the item, Dean made a spectacle
out of pushing the lotion off the end of the bed, successfully eliciting a
giggle from his little brother.
 
“Stop messin’ around, asshat,” Sam ordered, affection evident in his tone as
Dean crawled on to the mattress once more; setting the lube aside before
kissing the younger boy like it was the most important thing he could ever do
in his life.
 
“So pushy, little brother.”
 
Dean smiled against Sam’s mouth, fingers tangled in his hair as he switched to
short, teasing kisses, tongue periodically sliding across his bottom lip,
sending sparks of pleasure like firecrackers up his spine.
 
“Don’t tease, Dee, please?” Sam asked innocently as he wrapped his arms around
the older boy’s neck, nuzzling his cheek against Dean’s. A sick feeling of
satisfaction washing over Sam when he heard his big brother groan as he arched
his hips off the mattress, grinding their erections together.
 
“Wh-who’s teasin’ now, Sammy?”
 
Giving Dean a smug smile, Sam winked at his brother playfully; heart swelling
with affection when the older boy laughed so hard it encompassed his whole
body, the sound like music to Sam’s ears. Sam loved seeing Dean happy, and he’d
do anything to be the one who made him feel that way.
 
“I love it when you smile, y’know that?”
 
“…Sammy.”
 
Sam couldn’t stop himself from kissing Dean, slow and passionate, when he saw
his brother blush at his comment; the younger boy in complete awe at how Dean
had the ability to be such a total badass, then all of a sudden turn around and
be the most sensitive and humble guy he’d ever met.
 
“Need you, big brother, please.”
 
“I know, baby, need you too.”
 
Reaching behind him, Dean continued kissing Sam as he searched for the lube
blindly; the younger boy huffing out a laugh as he pushed Dean away so he could
get what they need. And while Dean was slicking up his fingers, Sam spread his
legs wide, bending both at the knees so that his feet were flat against the
bed.
 
“So good for me, Sammy,” Dean purred as he positioned himself between Sam’s
thighs, giving his cock a few quick, teasing strokes.
 
“Dee!”
 
Sam’s toes curled, mind fuzzy with lust as he brother’s hand sank lower;
circling his slick index around his warm, puckered hole before slowly pushing
inside him. The younger boy clenched around Dean reflexively, gripping the
blanket beneath him as his brother began to open him up. Arching his hips off
the mattress, moaning Dean’s name when his brother eventually found his
prostate, gently massaging the tiny bundle of nerves with his fingertip.
 
“Look at you, baby. Fuck. You love that, don’t you?”
 
“Yes! Jesus, Dean!” Sam whimpered, so high on pleasure he could barely think as
Dean slipped a second finger inside him.
 
“I know you do, Sammy. God, can’t wait till I’m inside you. Wanna feel that
tight, sweet little ass of yours squeezing my cock.”
 
A low guttural moan escaped Sam’s throat as he arched his hips, the filth
coming out of his brother’s mouth seriously doing it for him; Sam seriously
almost losing it when Dean began to lazily stroke his swollen, aching cock with
his left hand, fingers simultaneously scissoring inside him. His body so
overwhelmed with pleasure he didn’t know where one sensation ended and the
other began.
 
“Oh Christ, Dee, please!”
 
Dean pushed a third finger inside Sam, causing him to squirm and call out his
name; the older boy fucking him with his fingers, taking care to hit Sam’s
prostate with every thrust.
 
“Tell me how bad you need it, baby, how bad you need me.”
 
“Need you so bad, big brother, always. Can’t get enough,” Sam confessed, his
words honest and 100% sincere.
 
“…Me- me too, Sammy. You’re all I ever think about.”
 
Sam’s heart nearly skipped a beat when he heard his big brother’s admission. It
was rare when Dean talked about his feelings, and between what had happen with
John and the way his brother had taken care of him when they were alone, he
found himself getting emotional over such a statement. Turning his head away
from Dean in an attempt to hide the fact that he had started to cry as his big
brother gently removed his fingers from Sam.
 
“Whoa…hey, what’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” Dean asked suddenly, concern
evident in his voice as he wrapped Sam’s legs around his waist, leaning down to
look his brother in the eyes.
 
At first, Dean had been distracted by lubing himself up, but when he noticed
that his little brother was crying, he immediately stopped what he was doing to
take care of Sam.
 
“No, no, you didn’t hurt me, Dee…I- It’s just nice to know you care, that you
think about me as much as I think about you.”
 
“…Oh Sammy, of course I do…you’re…” Dean whispered, clearly struggling to keep
his composure.
 
“I know, Dean, I know.”
 
Letting out a shaky breath, Dean leaned down, pressing his forehead against
Sam’s; the younger boy wrapping his arms around his neck.
 
“…Dee, need you,” Sam begged, pressing searing hot kisses down his brother’s
jawline as Dean reached between them, lining himself up with Sam’s entrance
before slowly pushing inside him.
 
“Fuck, so good for me, Sammy.”
 
Sam buried his face in the hollow of Dean’s throat as his brother bottomed out;
feeling so full, so amazing, that he thought he might die from the euphoria of
it all. And after Dean had given him some time to adjust, the older boy began
to move; slowly rolling his hips, Sam’s fingernails digging into his back as
Dean pumped his cock in and out of his brother’s hot, wet hole, the younger boy
moaning and grinding against him.
 
“Oh God, Dean, I love you,” Sam whispered against Dean’s skin; their bodies
moving in tandem, smooth flesh soaked with sweat, stomach muscles flexing and
contracting with each sensual roll of their hips.
 
“I love you too, Sammy, so fucking much,” Dean replied without hesitation;
right hand sliding between them and wrapping around Sam’s leaking cock.
 
“Ohhh! Yes!”
 
Dean only had to stroke Sam a few time before he came so hard his vision went
blurry; blowing his wad all over their stomachs and his brother’s fist, cum
dripping down Dean’s knuckles, warm and thick.
 
Sam moaned Dean’s name, holding onto him for dear life as the older boy dropped
his head, pressing his forehead to Sam’s. He continued to thrust his hips,
kissing Sam fiercely until he found his release as well; body tensing, look of
pure bliss washing over his face as he came with a shudder, riding out his
orgasm before he collapsed onto Sam, completely spent.
 
“That was amazing, Dee.”
 
Sam closed his eyes, trying to relax as Dean gently pulled out of him; the
older boy scooting down to lay his head on his brother’s chest. His whole body
felt heavy, limbs tingling, little aftershocks of pleasure simmering just
underneath the surface of his skin.
 
“…You’re so fucking perfect, Sammy, how the hell did I get so lucky?”
 
Smiling, Sam lightly trailed his fingertips across the width of Dean’s
shoulders, loving the feeling of his brother’s weight on top of him; holding
him down, keeping him safe and secure.
 
“You’re the perfect one, big brother.”
 
Letting out an indignant snort, Dean shook his head as he sat up carefully,
stomach sticky with cum and sweat.
 
“C’mon Sammy, we need to clean up and get in bed before dad’s drunk ass
stumbles through that door and we’re in a world of hurt.”
 
It was clear from the tone of Dean’s voice that their ‘chick flick moment’, as
the older boy would have called, was over. But Sam was okay with that though.
Truthfully, he was incredibly thankful that Dean had given what he did; and he
wouldn’t have traded that moment for the world.
 
“I call first shower!” Sam yelled suddenly, socking Dean in the stomach before
making a break for the bathroom.
 
“Oh, you little bitch!” he heard Dean wheeze from somewhere behind; the younger
boy thankful his punch had landed clean so he could have enough time to lock
himself away.
 
“Suck it, jerk!”
 
Sam knew, in retrospect, that he probably shouldn’t have taunted Dean through
the door; especially considering the fact that he had no intention of sleeping
in the bathroom that night, and that his brother was not one to pass up an
opportunity at payback, but he just couldn’t help it. Dean was too damn easy to
mess with.
 
And even though his legs still hurt like hell, and he wanted to punch his
father in the face, Sam got in the shower feeling loved and wanted by the one
person that mattered most to him.
End Notes
     As always, I'm sorry for any mistakes I didn't catch. Also, I don't
     know if it's due to the fact that it's 3 o'clock in the morning and
     I'm exhausted, or if this story just actually sucks and doesn't
     flow...but either way, I apologize for that too. D: Lol
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