Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1079028.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Sibling_Incest, Emotional/Psychological_Abuse, Sexual_Abuse, wee!cest
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-11 Words: 1280
****** Give your Ghost ******
by Bazzle
Summary
     For almost as long as Sam can remember, Dean's been doing this...
     using his body how he wanted but always returning the favor. But when
     Sam stops to think about it, did he ever really have a say? And if he
     told Dean that he didn't want this anymore, maybe he never had, would
     he stop?
     Be warned, this is not happy nor is it porn. Dean is clearly
     suffering from severe guilt that is affecting his mental capacity and
     Sam is being both emotionally and sexually abused in these
     circumstances. This is non-con from Sam's perspective with references
     to the beginning of this 'relationship' when Sam is FAR too young to
     give consent.
Notes
     Originally submitted as a porn donation for someone on tumblr, I
     realized that this isn't really porn at all. I guess this is more
     like my attempt at a realistic representation of sibling incest. I
     don't know about adult incestual relationships, but psychologically
     there is no healthy way to have an underage sexual relationship
     between siblings with an age gap as wide as Sam and Dean's, so I went
     ahead and made it a whole lot less healthy and this is what came from
     it.
     If you're a regular reader, there is no fluff here! Be warned! This
     is very different from my usual stuff on here!
     Enjoy? I guess?
See the end of the work for more notes
“Don’t,” Sam says as Dean plops himself next to him with a glint in his eye,
but there’s that waver in Sam’s voice because he’s never sure if Dean will
listen.
“Sammy,” Dean complains, running a hand along Sam’s stomach and hiking Sam’s
shirt up an inch with the motion.
“I have to do homework,” Sam says, then adds quietly, “And you already... we
already...”
“You’re barely in High School Sam, you don’t have to take school that
seriously. And besides... that was this morning,” Dean says, rubbing over the
exposed skin above Sam’s jeans, tracing his fingers along the band of Sam’s
underwear, “Had to have something to think about while I was in school today.”
Sam’s traitorous dick comes to life and Dean sighs like he’s relieved when his
hand grazes over the slight bulge in Sam’s pants.
Sam wonders...
“Stop it,” Sam says, and he keeps his voice steady but there’s not as much
force behind it as he’d meant.
Dean squeezes his cock through his jeans and leans in to lick a hot stripe from
Sam’s jaw to behind his ear. He shudders when Dean pulls at his earlobe with
his teeth and the vibration of his zipper being pulled down against his
straining dick sends a shock of arousal through him... but he has to know.
“Dean, stop,” Sam says a little too loud.
Dean smirks against his neck, “You don’t mean it.”
The words are like a punch to the gut.
His hand is in Sam’s underwear and Sam feels panicky when his fingers wrap
around him, because suddenly the arousal makes him feel nauseous and he does
want Dean to stop... not because it doesn’t feel good because Dean has always
made him feel good. He wants him to stop because after all these years, this
was the first time he had asked Dean to stop. 
He had never, not once, told Dean that he didn’t want this. Not the first time
a twelve year old Dean dragged Sam’s body under his own and begged him to be
quiet as he humped against him while their father lay passed out one bed over.
Not the first time Dean picked the lock and followed Sam into the shower when
Sam was eleven, showing him how to make himself feel good.
He had never asked Dean to stop no matter how badly Sam wished he would, and
now that he had finally gotten the courage to say it, Dean’s still got this
fingers wrapped around him and Sam’s so hard now and he feels completely and
utterly without control.
Tears start pricking at his eyes and he tries to speak, tries to open his mouth
three times to scream, to beg Dean to stop and he’s about to speak when a hand
curves under his back and Dean hauls Sam’s body into his lap, Sam’s ass pressed
against the length of Dean’s erection and he doesn’t remember when Dean got his
cock out. All Sam can manage is a strangled whimper as Dean drags Sam’s jeans
and underwear down, exposing his embarrassingly hard length inch by inch, then
pulling Sam by his hips against his naked dick while his jeans are scrunched up
halfway down his thighs. 
As many times as Sam has felt dirty or wrong when Dean has had his hands on him
or his dick in him, he’s never felt so violated, so used, so helpless. 
And Dean can’t see the tears streaming down Sam’s face at this angle, could
mistake the sounds Sam makes as arousal instead of anguish as he drags Sam’s
ass against his arousal with a groan of approval, his wet breath on the back of
Sam’s neck while his wicked fingers grip Sam’s leaking cock and start a steady
rhythm.
“Dean, please stop!” Sam manages to force out, and his voice cuts through the
quiet room. He sounds hysterical and his words are thick with tears.
Dean’s motions still completely, immediately, and his grip on Sam’s hips
tightens. Sam is off his lap in a second, and he would be embarrassed of how
easily Dean can manhandle him if he weren’t so humiliated at being laid out on
the couch by his big brother while he’s practically sobbing, his dick still
out, but Dean is staring at his face.
“Sammy?” Dean’s hands are on his face and Sam’s heart-rate is slowing down, his
brother’s wide concerned eyes assuaging the fear he had felt for a moment. Even
after everything between them, Dean was still the only safety that Sam knew.
“Why wouldn’t you just stop,” Sam asks pathetically.
Sam watches something come crashing down behind Dean’s eyes, and there’s a
moment when Sam just watches something akin to horror fall across Dean’s face.
Dean’s pushed himself three feet away from Sam in a clumsy, rushed motion.
“Didn’t mean to...” Dean mutters, his eyes bright with something like panic but
he won’t look at Sam, “I didn’t force you... I didn’t...”
“Dean-”
“I didn’t hurt you, Sammy... I didn’t hurt you, right?” Deans eyes are
desperate, manic even as he stares at anything but Sam, “Never hurt you... God,
I never meant to hurt you...”
And now Sam is scared because Dean’s breathing too fast and his eyes won’t
focus.
“I know,” Sam says hastily, sitting up and reaching towards Dean, “I just
wanted-”
Dean looks at him then and flinches at Sam’s hand, pushing himself so that he’s
pressed against the opposite armrest of the sofa, staring at Sam panicked. He
looks trapped, scared and lost.
“Did I?” and his voice is wrecked, his expression nothing less than
devastation, “Did I force you?”
Sam isn’t sure how to answer the question.
It’s true that he didn’t understand what was happening when it started, and how
could an eight year old understand consent? But really, Dean didn’t know
either. They were so young then and Sam just closed his eyes and tried to
breathe as Dean pressed him into motel mattresses, making a mess out of the
sheets. And maybe it had taken some persuasion for Sam to put his hands on
Dean... but when Dean reciprocated and explained that every time Sam made Dean
feel good, Dean could make Sam feel good...
So what if the first time Sam didn’t come dry it was down Dean’s throat? So
what if the first time Dean had sex with a girl, he came home and fucked Sam
over and over again until the sun came up with only their spit to ease the way?
Did he force him?
Maybe he did, Sam thinks.
Of course he did... a voice whispers in the back of Sam’s head, and he’s amazed
that the revelation doesn’t come as such a shock. Maybe he’d known since the
start.
But Dean’s eyes are afraid and shining with tears, and... and...
“No,” Sam says with a confidence he didn’t know he could fake, “No, Dean, of
course not.”
He crawls his way across the couch and Dean still looks so afraid, so ashamed.
“Never?” he asks with a crack in his voice.
Always,the voice whispers, Every single time.
“Never,” Sam says gently.
He’s between Dean’s legs, and he drops his head to lick a stripe up the
underside of Dean’s still-hard length, and the taste brings back the nausea,
but the look of relief and reverence in Dean’s gaze when he looks down at Sam
is enough.
“I love you so much, Sammy,” Dean says quietly, hand buried in Sam’s hair.
“I know,” Sam says, before relaxing enough so that he can take all of Dean’s
length, just like his big brother taught him.
 
End Notes
     Hope it wasn't too fucked up :/ tell me what you think!
     Title is from a Sufjan Stevens song (To Be Alone With You) which I
     LOVE and always makes me think of fluffy Wincest. The lyrics are "You
     gave your body to the lonely, you gave your ghost to be alone with
     me." NOW IT'S GONNA MAKE ME THINK OF RAPEY WEECEST. Gdangit.
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