He had to pant for breath under each of those thrusts, small near-whimpering moans coming out on each exhale. When the movements slowed, Jaime shifted his hips to allow Dean to pull out of him; he shuddered at the emptiness, his skin still tingling in the afterglow of his orgasm.

He blinked dazedly as Dean rested against him, humming a tired kiss into the side of his neck. The strong thrum of a heartbeat close to his own was comforting, and he relaxed with the pleasant weight on him. "Fuck, you're good," he mumbled smiling against his skin, blissfully unable to form anything more than monosyllabic.