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The rain slowed to a nice hum in the backdrop, with Jerry in the crook of his arm Dean felt himself start to doze. Just as he was about to drift off completely he felt kisses start at his ear and lead to his jawline. A hand trailed down his stomach and dipped into his shorts to take a hold of him.
“Jer, this was supposed to be all romantical,” he weakly protested even as he began to harden.
“What, you can’t be romantical and fuck me?"
Dean grabbed and moved the other man with ease and made him straddle him.
“You’re doing the work.” Dean put his arms behind his head; looking like the king of assholes.
Jerry reached into the bedside drawer for their bottle of lube.
“Are you at least gonna open me up?”
“Nope.”
“Bully.”Jerry poured the liquid over two fingers and reached under himself. He only gave the smallest of whimpers.
Rare form for Jerry. Like he was trying to preserve the mood, and enforce their peaceful bubble on the rainy gray. Unable to resist Dean put out a hand to caress the skin underneath his stolen shirt, but became frustrated with its lack of access so he unbutton it; leaving his nipples open to his pinching and touches.
Jerry rode his fingers in desperate tiny jerks; still making small noises in his throat. He used his free hand to pull Dean’s fingers to his mouth, sucking them, curling his tongue around them and teasing. Dean decided he couldn't resist and pulled his now wet fingers away and pushed them inside next to Jerry's own. Jerry gave it a token effort, but soon let Dean take over; he always preferred his thicker fingers.
“I thought you said you weren't gonna help.”
“I can stop you know.”
“Bully,” Jerry moaned.
“You need some new material.”
Jerry slapped his arm which temporarily dislodged him, but Dean pressed back in with a vengeance that made him gasp.
When Dean deemed him stretched enough he pulled away and Jerry grabbed their bottle and coated his cock. He maneuvered himself and took Dean in slowly, taking deep breaths through his nose and biting his lips. Dean guided him down, hands spanning his waist. Jerry whimpered when he settled to base
They looked at each other, their heartbeats making their own music with the rain. Jerry leaned down for a tender kiss and after a brush of lips he sat up to brace his hands on his chest and started moving. Dean's hands never left his hips; offering gentle guidance. No rush.
“Fuck,” Dean couldn’t help but whisper, he loved this. The tight heat of him, the picture he made, the rhythm they fell so easily into.
Jerry giggled, knowing the effect he had on the man below him and loving it, but he wasn’t unaffected either.
“You always feel so good,” his fingers laced with the hands around his waist.
“You do too.”
The pace continued slow and easy like a bourbon buzz. And when Jerry felt the telltale signs of an orgasm he leaned back on Dean’s solid thighs behind him for leverage. Dean could read his partner like the back his hand. He wrapped a fist around him to stroke him in time to his now harder thrusts.
Jerry came first with a high whine and Dean followed suit when he felt that tight heat get impossibly tighter. He fell upon Dean; not caring about the mess and neither of them bothering to move or even disconnect from each other. It was going get uncomfortable eventually, but neither of them cared. Dean rubbed his back with a large warm hand and Jerry pressed a sweet kiss to his temple.
“I just took a fucking shower,” Dean said with no actual hurt feelings.
“At least you won’t be alone this time.”