Summary- Even angels get it wrong sometimes…
WARNING! THIS FIC CONTAINS SLASH! NOTHING GRAPHIC SO FAR, BUT JUST TO WARN YOU.
BTW, this chapter is kinda awkward, because it's hard to write this kind of scene without mentioning two names, and I want the pairing to be a surprise. But I tried. Also, I'm not exactly subtle, and most people will have guessed by like the second paragraph. But anyway…
It's also short, but I have no excuse. It wanted to be short, it's short. What can I do about it?
I own nothing etc, etc.
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'Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.'
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Eye Of The Tiger blared out of the stereo as the Impala raced along the highway. Despite the music, there was a stony silence from the people inside the car. Dean's hands gripped the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white, and he was leaving an imprint in the leather. Next to him Sam sat staring out of the window, not seeing the Arizona desert. Instead he was seeing last night, played back to him like a video.
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The motel room, abandoned by Dean for a night of drinking to forget, to remember, just for the hell of it, Sam wasn't sure, was empty, and seemed too big, too crowded, too light, too dark. Sam was antsy, all but pacing up and down. It had been too long.
He was tapping idly on the laptop keyboard, glancing out of the window, watching, waiting, for his lover. A flutter behind him, and the room filled with His scent. Warm and spicy, like cinnamon, but dangerous. It enticed him and drew him closer, but also warned him to stay away. He was like an insect caught in a Venus fly trap. The only difference being that he was deliriously happy being caught.
His lover crossed the room carefully, picking out a path between various fast food boxes and beer bottles. When working a case, Dean tended to view sanitation as a guideline, more than a rule of thumb. Sam mirrored his path, and they met in the middle, mouths clashing together in desperation, in want, in need of each other. 'It's been too long,' breathed Sam, breaking the kiss off to suckle his lover's collarbone.
'Sam…' It was a moan more than a word, blue eyes turning silvery aqua in ecstasy as their bodies reacted to each other's proximity. He expertly steered them both over to his bed, folding his long legs down when his calves hit the mattress so they landed on the soft covers, his shirt riding up so he hit the sheets on his back, already covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Skilled hands pawed at his shirt, unbuttoning it swiftly, pulling it off broad shoulders as their mouths joined again, this time unhurried, sensuous, passionate. He unknotted his lovers tie, pulling it from around his neck slowly, removing his outer layers of clothes one by one, until they were lying on the bed, clad only in boxers, and in Sam's case, a thin undershirt, already dripping with perspiration. Sam couldn't remember when the boxers were lost, only that a short amount of time later, they were joined in the most intimate places, feeling complete once again. Their bodies moved together in harmony, like they were no longer two people, two souls, but one thing, one consciousness, moving together, living together, breathing together. They tumbled out the brink together, joined by a bond stronger than any other, a bond unbroken by time, distance, death.
They lay together afterwards, limbs entangled in each other, sticky and sated, but utterly, disgustingly, happy.
'I should go,' his lover muttered, his silver hued eyes returning to their normal vibrant sapphire 'If Dean-'
'If Dean comes back, he can deal with this like a big boy,' Sam interrupted. 'I'm tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of finding disapproval everywhere I go.'
There was silence, and then his lover got up, collecting his clothing. 'Even so,' he said quietly, dressing and sitting back on the edge of the bed, where Sam lay, sheets pooling around his lap. A bead of perspiration ran down his bare chest, sliding over the anti possession tattoo, slipping between the arches of the Enochian symbol he had branded on his chest, just below the pectoral muscle. It had been a symbol of commitment, of love between them. In return, his lover wore a bead bracelet formerly belonging to Sam, hidden under his sleeve, unseen by prying eyes. Blue eyes watched the droplet trickle down his stomach, disappearing under the sheets, before he leaned forward, soft lips meeting Sam's kiss-swollen ones, the desperation gone, only the bare emotion and love were left. Sam's hand came up, caressing his lover's face, the smooth, shaven cheek, down to his neck and round, curling into the hairs at the nape of his neck. They were both so drawn up in the kiss, neither of them heard the door open, and the intake of breath from the person standing in the doorway, his green eyes filled with rage and hurt and betrayal.
Sam blinked, returning to the interior of the Impala, chancing a look at Dean. His jaw was clenched, his eyes focused on the road, hands on the steering wheel. Suddenly, with no outside influence, he jerked the wheel, sending the car hurtling into a lay-by, where he killed the engine and turned his blazing eyes on his brother.
'What the hell were you thinking, Sam? Sleeping with a goddamn angel?!'
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OK, I gave it away at the end, but if you hadn't guessed by now…
Anyway, not sure where I'm going with this one, but I'm aiming for a happy ending –shocked gasps from audience- I know! Me, and a Happy Ending? Surely not?! We'll have to wait and see…
Review!