"Good," Eliot whispered, his words murmured against the side of Dean's mouth. "Come for me, Dean. Let go and spill it all." He pumped the cock harder, making sure he ran his hand down the whole length and brushed the head with the heel of his palm.

He was having less problem having came once more than Dean, but he was getting close too. If Dean came, Eliot had no doubt he would follow quickly after.