[ Lay back. Okay, he could do that. He trusts Dean absolutely, implicitly, and he sinks gently down into the pillows, catching his breath as the other man leans over him, reaching up to track just his fingers along Dean's arm, feeling him move, feeling the muscles stretch as he finds his mark, the intention behind them.
He still groans, softly, as that finger presses him inside, an unusual experience at best, trying not to grip Dean's arm too tightly, though it's inevitable that he leave bruises here and there during this process. ]
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He still groans, softly, as that finger presses him inside, an unusual experience at best, trying not to grip Dean's arm too tightly, though it's inevitable that he leave bruises here and there during this process. ]
A-ah... Dean.