Sam was panting, skin flushed and damp with sweat, and little noises wrenched from his throat. He was so close, so desperate at this point and Dean wasn't helping, not with the way he looked or clung or whimpered. God, he was whimpering again. Lips parted in a desperate groan an he brought one of his hands between his legs to stroke at his own neglected cock.

It wasn't much longer until he was coming with a deep moan of the other's name, grinding back hard on Dean's cock as he rode out the pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. Fuck...