[The hand over Sam's fell out of sync when Sam sped up, so Dean moved it to Sam's forearm. He could feel the muscles in his brother's arm working under the skin. It matched the tempo of the unbelievable sensations of rubbing, grinding friction that was making his jean damp with pre-come and robbing Dean of the ability to speak or think.]

[He could hear, though. Sam's encouragement nearly made his eyes roll back again, but he fought to keep them open and on his brother's face. Sam looked so intent and so fucking hot. It was all he needed. He went almost completely still, teeth grinding to hold back a yell that would have got them noticed for sure, and he came to hard that spots danced in front of his eyes.]