Yeah, Sam was as rough as Dean figured he'd be. Wrapping both legs up around him -- thank the Lord for bow legs -- Dean shifted a bit and reached a hand back to brace himself against the frame of his little bed. It was amazing this thing was still standing with them fucking this hard on it, but he supposed Rufus was the kind of guy to get things that'd last.
His breath hitched with every thrust and Dean closed his eyes for a long time, just enjoying the feeling of it. He didn't expect it to be this good, he figured it'd hurt, maybe feel kind of okay, and that he'd feel thoroughly awkward about it after because it was the second gayest thing he'd done after wearing red shorts at a high school. Actually, it was ridiculously good, and he dropped his head back, rough but quite high noises coming from him.
"Fuck-- Sam... Sammy..." He was pretty sure no other words would ever make it to mind, and even without touching himself, it was all incredible.