Dean grinned despite himself at that reassurance. He seriously doubted either of them were 'fine'. This was sick and wrong and dirty, but fuck did Sammy look good right now. He shouldn't be thinking about his baby brother like that, shouldn't have groaned when he arched and cried out his name.
"I gotcha, Sammy," he murmured, brushing his free hand through Sam's hair as he started to pump his fist, thumb rubbing over the head on the upstroke every once in awhile.