Dean's trying to be as active as he can muster, not truly knowing any better ways to impress himself on Lucifer. Slamming back against him is hard to manage when he has no leverage but he's damn well trying, practically panting with the effort of it. It's all he can do to keep from shouting in his own head, flustered and overwrought, starting to become too pent up to know what to do with himself.

And though Lucifer finally comes, again, Dean is left squirming after each new thrust, barely managing an attempt to push back and fuck himself on Lucifer's cock. He doesn't have a clue how the angel's managing it, excruciatingly sensitive himself now but wanting it all the more as the moments tick by.