There is a kind of answering echo in Thrawn at the pure sensuality of this. He finds that he's not immune -- even though he's been focused almost exclusively on Dean, his own body has certainly reacted, bringing a flush to his skin, a slight darkening of the blue as red blood comes to the surface.

"Keep your hands bound," he instructs.

He dials down each vibrator, slowing before turning them off completely. And then he places a hand on Dean's abdomen and carefully draws each one out. He knows how quickly the pleasure of being pushed beyond endurance can turn to pain, in the aftermath. And he knows the dangers of moving too quickly when the body is so sensitive.

There are some people dispersing, now that they think the show is over, but Thrawn doesn't give them a second glance. He urges Dean's legs flat, letting him stretch out and relax, and then undoes one nipple clamp then the other, brushing the pad of his thumb to soothe the abused flesh.

Then, he murmurs a request to the shop owner, and in a moment or two, has a wet washcloth. He wipes Dean's forehead, the hollow of his throat, his temples. He is deft and thorough, working his way down Dean's body, soothing and comforting and wiping away the remnants of the event, from semen to lube to sweat.

By the time he gets down between Dean's legs, there's been enough time for him to recover a little, and only then does Thrawn clean him there, wiping the lube out from between his legs.