Night falls in heaven like it does on earth, but the sky is blacker and the stars are brighter and there's a rainbow-hued borealis above their heads.
Dean's thighs are spread wide, and his baby brothers hips are between them. Dean's ass sticks to the hood of the Impala, hard steel against bare flesh. He doesn't slide when Sam pushes into him.
They're still on the bridge. Sam's pale jacket hangs over the rail, undulating in the gentle breeze that rapidly cools the sweat on their skin. Water rushes far beneath but Dean's hardly aware of anything outside of their heavy breaths and and the pulse of Sam inside him for the first time.
It's clear, now, that they fought it their whole lives.
Sam's cock throbs inside of Dean's body. "It's okay," Dean says.
They come together, clinging, sharing breath. They speak without words, love, and missed you, and far too much time apart.
Decades or hours, it was too much.
"Fuck me again," Dean says, before Sam has even pulled out. "Fill me, I need all of you," as though Sam can pour himself fully into Dean. As though Sam can become a part of him.
Maybe that's what heaven could be, for them. Perhaps they were always meant to be that way.