Have we considered Sam’s psychic powers being triggered by pure, absolute ecstasy? It’s the only time his visions are positive futures. So when Dean’s absolutely railing him in some motel, panting into his neck and gripping his thighs so tight they’re bruised, Sam’s head is thrown back, nails deep in Dean’s back, eyes completely white and glimpsing at snippets of them in the future living domestically in this odd kind of bunker, sharing their own room that is actually their own, having lazy sex in bed when they wake up and making breakfast together in an actual kitchen. Sam has never orgasmed harder.