ꪆৎ ˚
dean prone boning sam with his huge bicep wrapped around his neck. his entire weight is resting on sam’s body, and his erection is driving into that tight hole with his pelvis rhythmically slapping against sam’s plush ass.
and it’s just too good on sam’s end, the constant thrusts of dean’s cock jabbing at his prostate and him being suffocated by dean’s muscular arm has his brain turning into mush and his own cock leaking on the mattress. there is not a single coherent word that is slipping past his mouth besides the little mewls and high-pitched moans.
sam can’t squirm away either; with the very little strength that he has, he takes every deep stroke dean is giving him. and he doesn’t realize that he’s starting to drool on his bicep till dean lifts his head with his other hand, where he sees a string of saliva connected from his mouth to dean’s arm. the room may have spun on a tilted axis, but his brother was the only pull sam needed. dropping his chin into the meat of dean’s bicep, sam clamped down. and dean just stares down at the messy, slobber-soaked display, chuckling as he tightens his hold. it wasn't a malicious bite, but a dull gnawing.
"look at that," dean crooned, his voice dripping with syrupy condescension as he lazily scratched behind sam’s ear. "my little puppy got himself a chew toy."



















