It should've freaked Sam out. It should've had him fleeing the shower and putting a mountain of space between them. Instead, it had a groan slipping from his lips and his cock jumping and twitching. Looks like they'd both have VIP boxes in Hell with their names on.
"Damn it, Dean..." Why couldn't Sam quit him? Whenever he managed to get away then Dean simply reeled him back in, like a fish on a hook, or a dog on a leash.
He ignored the fact they were turning into human prunes. "We're really going to need to stock up in every room... making do just isn't cutting it for me..."