"Sam--" It was muffled by the kiss and Dean tugged at the pinned arm again, but the other hand curled tight in that long hair, his whole form coming up to meet the kiss, his shoulder bent at an awkward angle as he pushed into the kiss, heels digging into the floor, not quite getting the grip he wanted without his boots on.

His breathing was ragged already and he hated it. Sam was his stupid, snot-nosed, obnoxious little brother. He was the kid he'd carry on his shoulders when the little thing got tired. Now Sam was too big for him to even lift properly.

Sinking back down into the floor, he tugged on Sam's hair, fingertips dragging against his scalp. "This is insane. We're not gay, especially not for each other," he murmured against Sam's mouth.