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The windows are fogged up from their breath, Dean's mouth hanging open, hot breath on Sam's face.
They're so close together, sharing space in a way they don't normally. Dean's hips rolling as he rides Sam, so good. It's so good. Dean is bent over him, their foreheads pressed together.
Sam's going straight to hell because anything this good has to be the path to damnation.
He's biting his lip, trying not to come too soon. He doesn't want this to end too fast.
Dean knows he's close. He clenches up around Sam's dick, makes him groan. "That's it. You're gonna lose it, aren't you? C'mon, Sammy, fill me up. That's my boy."
Sam grips Dean's hips tight as he comes, shivering.
"Anyone could see." Dean sounds almost dreamy as his hand flies to his cock and he starts stroking. He nods towards the window (too fogged up but the idea is still there, the possibility, and it's that more than anything that Dean is getting off on) but his eyes are on Sam. "Anyone could walk past-- see me taking it up the ass for you, your face so pretty when you come, fuck," Dean comes all over his fist and Sam's chest.