Sam moaned into the kiss, his tongue duelling and dancing with Dean's. He arched into Dean's touch, rocking his hips slowly, welcoming the friction it provided. He was nervous, hell, he'd probably go as far as to say he was scared, but he was alright because he knew Dean had him and Dean would look after him. Besides, Dean hadn't died a terrible death when Sam fucked him, so there was no reason for anything bad to happen to Sam, right?
"Dean..." It was a moan of pleasure, not one of worry or begging Dean to stop. He jerked his hips, wanting more. He brought his hands up to cup Dean's cheeks, smothering his face in tiny, desperate kisses, peppering his freckles with kisses with tiny moans between each kiss.