True to his word, Taylor holds his hand still. Keeps it steady, keeps his fingers curled in a fist and lets them rock back against it for more, pausing only to slide a steadying hand along their hip or add more lube to his wrist and oh. Oh christ, the way they're rolling back, greedy and five kinds of obscene, the needy clasp of Sam's body around his hand, around his wrist-

His mouth starts to run without much filter. "That's right Isaac, go ahead. Take what you want you beautiful goddamn bastard. Fuck you're doing so goddamn well, you're so fucking tight, look so fucking good taking all of it in-"