Chapter 12

They spend the whole day at the Grand Canyon, though they left the touristed areas early on. By the time the day ends, they've thoroughly enjoyed themselves exploring, and they are equally as thoroughly lost. Sam knows they're only likely to get more lost if they try to find their way back in the dark, and he isn't ecstatic about spending the night out here so he offers to transport them back to the motel room.

"Transport? If it's safe and it'll get us back unlost I'm all for it."

So Sam steps close to Dean and draws him into a hug, wings flapping as he brings them back to the room. He's better at the angelic method of travel than he is at healing, but it's still something he has no real experience doing for somebody else, so he figures bringing Dean in close is safer. The movement seems to stun Dean, and he spends about a minute just gaping at Sam, Sam's not sure exactly why. He checks the parking lot through the curtains.

"Dude, you can teleport?"

"Um, yeah."

"How did I not know you could teleport? Why didn't you tell me?"

Honestly the reason Sam hasn't mentioned it is because he knows how much his brother had hated the feeling. He'd been assuming that this Dean would share that dislike, apparently he doesn't and now Sam is stuck looking for a reason he would think Dean wouldn't want to be transported like that.

"I thought you'd be uncomfortable with it, you're a hunter, and it's a supernatural method of transportation and all..."

"Nah, it's really cool actually. How far can you go?"

"Well, I wouldn't like to try going into space, even high atmosphere really. But I should be able to get to anywhere I can land."

"So if I asked to go to the Eiffel Tower... you could get there?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think our sightseeing opportunities just expanded."

Sam takes the gun from Elkins the next morning while Dean's still asleep. He keeps it with him the whole day as he and Dean visit the Eiffel Tower and get some rather incredible food. It's while they're there that Dean decides this is how they're going to spend their time while they heal. He starts to create a list of faraway destinations they want to visit, and Sam thinks that if the trips will put that same look on Dean's face – like a kid on christmas morning – then he will be happy to take them anywhere that Dean chooses.

Dean almost wishes he could stay injured forever. Every day they go somewhere new and amazing – that he gets to choose! - and every day he gets held by Sam twice at least, once on the trip out, and once on the trip back. Those moments might just be the best moments of the day for Dean, being hugged so close, Sam smelling of gunpowder and safety.

They're visiting some tropical island in the pacific when it happens. It's the first place they've gone that's completely devoid of other people, which for some reason makes Dean extremely happy. And before he knows what he's doing he's kissing Sam. In whatever portion of his brain instigated this it was meant to be, strange as it may sound, platonic. The kiss was meant to be a thank you, it was meant to express his happiness and excitement.

It doesn't stay that way for long.

Before he knows it the kiss has turned hot and deep. He's got one hand tangled in Sam's hair, and another clutching on to him between his shoulder blades. Sam must be holding up half his weight, because Dean sure knows he's not doing it himself. His knees are threatening to buckle with every stroke of Sam's tongue, and when he gets enough sanity back to notice the rhythm of it he finds his hips moving to the same beat. He's hard as rock, and even though he's pressed up as close to Sam as it seems possible to go, all his body can try to do is get closer. He's helped in his efforts by Sam, who has one hand on his upper back, but whose other hand is sliding down his spine, pressing them together as it goes. And the hand on his upper back becomes a necessary support as Sam goes from kissing the breath out of him to nibbling at his jaw and then sucking bruises onto his neck.

The claiming mark is the last straw. As Sam's lips brush it, as his teeth nip at it, as the warm suction of his mouth covers it, Dean can't hold back anymore. He clutches Sam and moans as he comes, for long moments completely lost in the pleasure of it.

When he can think again he finds himself kneeling in Sam's lap – his legs must have finally given out on him – and he can feel Sam still hard beneath him. Sam looks beautiful like this, breathless and wanting, and for a moment all Dean wishes for is his alpha inside him. But even lost in the aftershocks of his orgasm he knows this is too soon, so he leans down – taking just a moment to appreciate that for once it's him leaning down to Sam, and not the other way round – and kisses Sam again, sliding one hand down Sam's chest till he reaches his jeans, giving Sam something to rut against. If he needed any more incentive to want Sam inside him the feeling of so much power beneath him – the feeling of Sam's thighs as they flex between his own – would be enough to seal the deal.

Sam is gorgeous as he comes, silently burying his face in Dean's neck, crushing him close as his muscles lock up.

They both stay silent as they relax slowly. Sam looks at the man in his arms, and it's as he goes to force himself to remember that this isn't his brother that he realizes there's no need. He doesn't need to remember because he's never forgotten. And the idea that he reacted so to this Dean simply for himself, and without any thought of his brother shocks Sam speechless. He's content to just stay here in silence and let this fact sink in, resting in the arms of a man he certainly trusts, and who it seems he may actually love.

Published: April 29, 2013