Trying to breathe evenly and failing miserably, Dean turns on the spot, pressing his thighs flush up against the desk. It takes him a moment to prepare himself, failing miserably at trying not to think once more. It's hard enough to quash the guilt on a daily basis but this? This takes the cake, Dean trying not to fall under the weight of his shame.

But he wants it. Spreading one foot out wider and then the other, Dean leans over precariously, enough so that it's blatant without unbalancing himself. Clenching his jaw tight, he's already twitching, fingers curling into desperate fists behind his back.