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The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time

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Adjusting Fate

Fic: Adjusting Fate (Sam/Dean NC-17) Part 1 of 2

Title:   Adjusting Fate
Author: smalltrolven
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10,400
Characters:  Sam, Dean, Gabriel, Castiel, Zachariah, Uriel, Ruby
Warnings: Canon character deaths.
Author’s Note: Not my characters, only my words. Inspired by the movie “The Adjustment Bureau”, (which Eric Kripke was Associate Producer for!), which was inspired by a Philip K. Dick story.  This was written for 2013 spn_cinema . Thank you to stella_lost for the always useful and timely beta!
Summary: Sam and Dean find that Free Will may be an illusion, but one’s fate can always be adjusted.  A story of Free Will’s triumph. An end of season 2 through end of season 4 AU.

This story can also be read over here at AO3.
adjusting fate
In case you've seen the movie:
Cast of Characters:
Dean – David Norris
Sam – Elise Sellas
Gabriel – Harry Mitchell, a lower level Adjuster
Castiel- Mr. Richardson, Harry’s boss.
Zachariah – Mr. Thompson, Castiel’s boss.
Uriel – Burdensky, Castiel’s other assistant
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That rainy cold night at the diner, the crucial night, where so many are watching to see if it would all go one way or the other, there is another car already in the parking lot when Sam and Dean pull up in the Impala. Their beautiful, long, black car skids to a stop in the deep puddles in the gravel parking lot.  Soon Sam emerges from the passenger side.  Over the rain, their voices can just barely be heard.

Dean yelling from inside the car, “Don't forget the extra onions this time!”

Sam pauses and dips back down to make eye contact with his brother so he can see his rolling eyes, “I'm the one who has to ride in the car with your extra onions.”

Sam’s moved several steps away when Dean yells, “Hey, see if they've got any pie. Bring me some pie. I love me some pie.”

A man in a trench coat and fedora opens the passenger side car door of the other car in the parking lot and gets in, sitting down next to the driver, a smaller man, dressed in just a suit and fedora, no trench coat.

“Good evening Gabriel.  You look terrible, just how tired are you?” says the newcomer.

“Hey Castiel, thanks for coming, wasn’t sure you’d be here.”  Gabriel answers without acknowledging the comment about how tired he looks, because he knows already, it’s not going to change anything at this point.

“So, Dean Winchester is to get in the diner door by eleven oh five.  Eleven oh five at the latest.”  Castiel says, emphasizing the time with a pointing gesture.

Gabriel rolls his eyes at being reminded by his boss, yet again, of course he knows how important this is, “Don’t worry, I’ll get him as soon as he gets out of his car.”

Castiel opens the car door to leave, “I know you will. Can't imagine being on this guy as long as you have, you really need to take a vacation after this.”  The door slams and he disappears into the dark rainy night.

A couple spaces over in the diner parking lot in the Impala, Dean sits back and watches his brother through the diner windows, thinking about pie, and what kind Sam’s gonna bring back.  He’s just about to get out and go make sure he doesn’t get peach, because, yuck, peach, and who knows if Sam will remember with everything that’s going on.  His hand is on the car door handle, and he’s about take the keys out of the ignition when one of his favorite Boston songs come on the radio.  So he turns it up and sits back, relaxing for a while listening to the guitar work that he still loves no matter how many times he’s heard it.
In his car in the parking lot nearby the Impala, Gabriel has fallen asleep, his dark grey fedora is sitting on his lap, and his bare head lolls against the window.  He’s been so tired for so long, with no rest, following Dean and Sam, making sure they stay on Plan.  He just meant to close his eyes for a second, not wanting to get out into the cold, rainy night a second earlier than he had to.  Even Adjusters feel the cold after all.  But he’s asleep now, and the time is passing,
Eleven oh three,

Eleven oh four,

Eleven oh five.

Gabriel is still dead to the world, asleep and dreaming of being human, not wearing a hat, having the responsibility, being oblivious and happy.
Back in The Impala, the radio goes staticky just at the best part of the song, Dean tries to tune it in a little better, but gets nothing, just even more static.  He suddenly gets an awful feeling that something terrible has happened, one of those feelings deep in your gut that you can’t ignore and he runs into the diner at top speed.  But Sam’s gone, everyone’s dead, and there’s sulfur on the window sill.  In a blind panic he runs outside and yells at the top of his lungs, “Saaaammm!”

Dean’s yelling wakes Gabriel up, and he jumps out of his car, putting his fedora back on, he looks at his watch, “Damn.”  He walks over to where Dean is frantically searching under all the cars in the parking lot.

“Hey, Dean.”

Dean straightens up and looks down at the stranger, “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Gabriel.  Come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, I need to find my brother!  Sam!” Dean yells, backing away from this strange small man in a grey suit and fedora of all things out
here in this muddy, soaking wet parking lot.

“No choice, sorry Dean.”  Gabriel grabs his hand and pulls him with surprising strength back towards the diner, turning the doorknob and they step through into a room that is most definitely not a diner filled with dead people slumped over into their pie as Dean expects.  Instead it is a beautiful room, white walls with ornate gold curlicue trim, expensive and elaborate paintings and mirrors, classy huge furniture, and two men, seated on large green chairs. The first a medium sized white man, wearing an overcoat and a black fedora, the other a very large black man with a grey suit and fedora.

“Hello Dean.” Says the man in the overcoat.

“Who the hell are you people? Where am I? Where’s Sam?”  Dean demands, looking around frantically, trying to figure out where the hell he is all of a sudden.

“All very good questions.  You can call us Adjusters.  I am Castiel.” The man in the over coat answers, then he points at the enormous man next to him, “And this is Uriel. You are behind the scenes right now Dean. Unfortunately, Gabriel here did not do his job correctly and we need to correct things.”

“What things?” Dean asks.

“Well, you were supposed to get inside that diner before the demon came and took your brother.  You would have been able to fight him off, then in about a week you were to have killed the demon you’ve been looking for, Azazel, with your brother at your side.  And he was then to go back to Stanford.  But now it will all have to be a little different.”

“How different?”

“I’m afraid to correct things, Sam is going to have to die.”

“No way. Not happening.” Dean declares fiercely.

“As if you have anything you can say or do to change it.” Castiel says.

“Watch me.” Dean says flatly, rage barely contained in his shaking human form.

“Dean if you tell anyone about what you’ve seen here tonight, we will be forced to reset you.  We cannot have that.”

“Reset me? What does that mean?”

“Your memories will be erased from a certain point onwards.  Likely you would not remember Sam.”

“You can’t just do that.”

“Yes, we can, we do it when necessary.  But Dean, we do not want to, we would honestly really rather not take the extra time and effort.  If you just keep your mouth shut it’ll be fine.”

“It’s not gonna be fine, you just told me my brother’s going to die!”

“Well, that is unfortunately unavoidable at this point, you can thank Gabriel for that particular change in your story.  Goodbye Dean, I hope we never have occasion to meet again.” Castiel says dismissively, turning and walking out of the room with Uriel close behind.

“That all true Gabriel?”

“Yes Dean, come on let me show you something.”  Gabriel reaches out for Dean’s wrist and pulls him through the door and they’re on the deck of a boat crossing a city harbor.  “My screw-up is here.”  He points to a spot on a page in a book.

Dean can’t make out what it’s supposed to mean, all the symbols are arcane and seem to be moving and changing on one part of the book.  There’s all these intersecting lines and he has no idea what Gabriel wants him to understand.  And he’s so disoriented, why the hell is he on a boat now, where’d that room go, and the diner, the Impala?  “What is this I’m looking at?” Dean asks in a daze.

“This is what I’ve been using to track you and Sam all this time.  This is your line, and right here’s Sam’s, and the plan showed you diverging here, after killing Azazel.  See?”  Gabriel traces it out with one elegantly manicured fingertip.

“I guess, but what did he mean about Sam having to die?”

“Well, Azazel has Sam right now as we speak, and that means a big change in The Plan, to get it back on track, Sam has to die.  And then you’ll kill Azazel in revenge for him taking your whole family from you.  Crisis averted.”

“I’m not seeing a crisis Gabriel, in my world, the crisis is that you’re telling me Sam’s dying. And that just ain’t happening!”

“You’re pretty hung up on that one point.” Gabriel dryly observes.

“It’s not some plot point, it’s my brother damn it!  He’s all I’ve got.  If you’ve been watching me, you oughta know that by now.”

“It may seem that way Dean, but according to this, not entirely true.” Gabriel closes the book and gestures with it at Dean.

“I don’t care. And you’re dead wrong. Sam is all I have. Sounds like this is your screw-up dude, you owe me.  Put me back there.  Where Sam is, so I can help.  We’ll still kill Azazel I swear.  It’s been what our whole lives have been about.  If you’ve been following us, you know that.”

“Let me see.”  Gabriel opens his book and studies it intently, tracing different lines and combinations with his finger. Finally he looks up at Dean, “Yes, I think that actually could work.  I will set you here.” He points at a spot on the page where the lines come together and then spread out.  “And I believe you will be in time to save your brother.  The experience will put you on this path towards killing Azazel not long afterwards.  Then we’ll be even, okay Dean?”

“Yeah, sounds good, let’s go. My car too, right?” Dean says, not losing the urgency of needing to get to his brother, make sure he’s okay, not dying like these Adjuster guys are talking about.

“Yes yes, the car too. Just remember, you cannot talk about this to anyone, not even Sam.”

“Fine, just get me there in time.”

“I am sorry Dean, that you had to get pulled into this.”

“Gabriel, as long as Sam’s okay, it’s fine with me.” Dean declares.

Gabriel looks at him with widening eyes, impressed with Dean’s single-minded determination when it comes to his brother.  He hasn’t encountered a human that would take all of this information in and still be able to function as well as Dean is, so focused on just his brother’s life that he doesn’t care about the threat to his own memories.  “I will set you here, at your friend Bobby’s house.  He’ll help you find Sam.”
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But it doesn’t go according to Gabriel’s instructions exactly.  Not even close really.  Dean’s just a few seconds too late, and Sam dies just as Castiel had said.  Right in Dean’s arms.  And as Dean had warned Gabriel, it’s a crisis, much more than a crisis, it’s a world-ending event for Dean.  He has no other choice and he doesn’t even give a thought to the plan that Gabriel had laid out for him.  He does the only thing he knows how to do, before the Adjusters can step in and halt him, Dean’s raced off to the nearest crossroads, heedless of the cost, completely desperate to save Sam and made a deal with a crossroads demon and brought Sam back to life.

At least the Winchesters go on to kill Azazel as they were supposed to, but that doesn’t matter in the scheme of things, The Plan has been severely compromised and the Adjusters have another meeting about how to proceed.

“He wasn’t supposed to do that.  I never imagined he’d sell his soul like that.  It wasn’t even one of the possibilities in the book, I was watching it very closely.”
Gabriel protests, knowing that his words sound hollow and pointless.

“I am sure you were Gabriel, but this is out of our hands now.”  Castiel says firmly.

“Zachariah stepping in?” Gabriel asks, defeated.  Castiel nods.  “Damn.” Gabriel whispers.  “He doesn’t deserve this.  Neither of them do.”

“I know, but Zachariah will set it right.” Castiel answers.

“That mean Dean will go to Hell after all?” Gabriel asks, sounding genuinely worried.

“Yes, he will, for a while.  The new plan says only four months.” Castiel says.

“A lot can happen in four months down there.  Up here too.  What’s Sam going to do?”

“You are off their case now, it is no longer your concern.”

“Fine.” Says Gabriel with a sinking feeling in his heart.  He has grown attached to this human and his brother and their extraordinary life.  It’s been fascinating to watch and he feels guilty for having failed to keep them on Plan.
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After they kill Azazel and Sam figures out what Dean’s done, Sam doesn’t just let Dean fuck or kill his way to an early exit to Hell though, he insists on trying to stop it, on attempting anything and everything to keep his brother from going there.  The cost too great to bear, he doesn’t feel that he’s worth Dean’s sacrifice; he can’t believe Dean would do this to him, not after what happened with their father selling his soul for Dean’s life.  Finally on their last Christmas together, they break down the remaining wall standing between them and end up in each other’s arms, not knowing how they could have remained separate all this time, with all the love and pain and sacrifice and life between them.

“This was pretty strong eggnog.” Dean says, leaning back further into the uncomfortable green couch.

“Want some more? Think there’s a little left.” Sam answers.

“If you bring it to me.” Dean says, eyes closed, like maybe he’s going to be passed out before Sam gets back from across the room with the eggnog.
Sam gets up off his couch, retrieves the eggnog and comes back over to flop down next to Dean, he fills Dean’s plastic cup with the last of the eggnog and sets the carton down on the edge of the table.  He misses and it falls off with a wet thud.

Dean opens his eyes and laughs, falling over into Sam so they’re squished up against one another, “You’ve had enough Sammy.”

Sam laughs at himself, loving hearing that stupid pet name rolling off Dean’s tongue, “Yeah probably, don’t usually drink rum.”

They sit there in silence, leaned up against each other, both not really looking at the football game on the T.V.

“Hey Dean?” Sam asks almost too softly to be heard over the crowd noise.

Dean turns his head to look at Sam and answer him, but Sam’s face is right there, inches away from his.  Sam’s eyes focus on his lips and Sam slowly licks his own.  For all the time they’ve danced around this issue, there’s no final statement, or declaration.  Just the both of them leaning that half an inch each towards the other until their lips finally meet.  At first it’s just a soft chaste thing.  Just one brother thanking another the only way he knows how.  The other accepting the thanks and giving back his own.

But then Sam sighs this tiny, small sound like he’s maybe about to cry and Dean won’t have that.  Not now.  So he turns the kiss into what they both really need.  Deep and wanton, searching and shattering.  They explore each other’s mouths, coaxing all the flavors out getting past the overpowering rum and the cloying eggnog, down to their essence.  Where they’re the most similar, just Sam. Just Dean.  But mixing together into what they’ve always hungered for.

Dean’s got one arm around Sam’s shoulders pulling him closer and closer, Sam’s got his hands cradling Dean’s face as if it’s the most precious object in the world.  They break off to gasp for air and search each other’s faces quickly, not frantic, but a checking –in, a sussing-out, “is this okay? Yeah of course.” The silent conversation, quick and over and done. Dean dives back in first and goes for Sam’s neck, biting and licking and sucking his way up and down that long tanned column that he’s always fantasized about.  Sam can’t do anything but lean back and enjoy it, soaking in all the sensation of his brother’s mouth finally on him, taking him apart as if he already knows the roadmap to all of Sam’s favorite places.
Dean ends up at Sam’s ear, biting and sucking the lobe between his lips, breathing into Sam’s ear, “Sam, Sammy, want you.”

“I know Dean, want you too.” Sam groans back, running his hands over Dean’s back ceaselessly, finally able to touch and to hold without the excuse of injury or near-death.  Dean pushes Sam backwards until he’s able to cover Sam’s body with his own.  They both arrange themselves into something that works, Sam’s legs spread to fit Dean between them.  For the next twenty minutes or so all they do is kiss, touching and holding, growing more and more excited with this new thing between them.

Well it’s not new, not really, it’s something they’ve always known as a possibility.  But this.  This is reality.  The reality of Dean’s lips yes being just that soft and agile as Sam had always guessed.  And oh yes the reality of Sam’s neck being the best tasting real-estate on a person Dean’s ever tasted in his life.  The first rush of pleasure at exploring each other ebbs and Dean sits up slowly.  Sam’s eyes follow him in the twinkling Christmas lights as he lifts off his shirt.  Dean’s skin looks like it’s made out of jewel colored fabrics, glowing and beautiful and endless and those strong muscles flex and twitch as Sam runs his hands over him.  “So beautiful Dean, you’re so beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

Sam looks up at him eyes filled with equal amounts of defiance and lust, “No, I won’t. You are. To me you are.”

“You now.” Dean pulls at Sam’s shirt impatiently, not wanting to get into anything too sappy.  It’s bad enough he feels like bursting into song or something at finally finally getting this. Sam sits up, his stomach muscles contracting and Dean groans at the sight of all that skin, so soft and still a little tanned and all those huge hard muscles.  All spread out for him.  Sam looks at him like he’s expecting him to say something.  And yeah maybe he should, but he wants to use his mouth a little differently, leaning over and taking one of Sam’s nipples into his mouth as he pinches and twists at the other one.  Sam squirms under him, writhing in an unconsciously sexy way, there’s nothing Dean can do but keep suckling at that nipple, biting it lightly causes Sam to groan and push his hips up in a hard jerk.  Dean laughs at getting that response, he’d always wondered if Sam would be easy or not.

“Yeah I am.” Sam says between his loud groans of pleasure.

“You are what?” Dean asks, still flicking his tongue on Sam’s nipple.

“Easy.  At least when it comes to you.”

“What you reading my mind now?”

“No, just answering your question.” Sam answers.

“Didn’t know I said it.” Dean says.

“You say a lot without saying any words Dean.  I’ve been listening my whole life.”

“I know Sammy.  Now hear this.” Dean says, sliding his way down Sam’s body, and undoes the button on his jeans. Dean’s holding his eyes the whole way, watching to see if this is still what Sam wants.  He rubs at the thick bulge in Sam’s jeans, impressed at the size of his brother.  They’ve seen each other naked of course, but he didn’t imagine Sam would be this big when he was hard.  Okay, he’ll admit it, he’d imagined, but tried not to spend too much time on the image of Sam being anything more than proportional.

After some rearranging of limbs, Sam’s finally got his jeans and boxers off and Dean’s are most of the way there, with Sam tugging at them.  But Dean stops him by leaning down the rest of the way and kissing the tip of his flushed red cock. He just rests his lips there on the softest of soft skin and they both pause. Sam overwhelmed at the sight of his brother’s beautiful lips resting there, Dean’s senses overwhelmed by the scent and feel of Sam under him.  Something passes between them, acceptance, permission, encouragement, abandon, “C’mon Dean.” Sam finally manages to say.  “Don’t be a tease.”

“Oh little brother, you have no idea.” Dean murmurs as he kisses his way down Sam’s shaft.

A few minutes of teasing licks and nuzzles and Dean just can’t hold back anymore. He breathes out on Sam’s cock as he travels back up to the tip and enjoys hearing Sam sigh in impatience.  Suddenly he wets his lips and takes Sam in, as far as he can, his right hand coming up to wrap around the base, pulling and jacking Sam slow in time with the bobs of his mouth up and down.  Dean swirls his tongue around the head, teasing the slit until pulses of pre-come hit his tongue.  The bitter taste exploding in his mouth, causes him to groan and that vibration makes Sam start thrusting a little, like he’s trying to hold himself back but he can’t.  Little tiny shifts of his hips up reaching towards Dean.

God help him Dean loves it, wants it so bad. Wants Sam to come in him right now.  He pulls off and tells Sam that, demanding. “Right now Sammy, c’mon want it all.”

Sam throws his head back when he hears those words, and groans deeply, thrusting just a little harder into Dean’s mouth, relishing the friction and the heat and wet completely perfect suction of his brother’s mouth.  “Too good Dean, can’t stop.” Sam breathes out.

“Good, c’mon Sam, please, want it.” Dean asks again, hoping he doesn’t sound like he’s begging, even though he absolutely is.   There’s an order to be maintained after all.

Sam opens his eyes up and takes in the sight, his brother’s competent rough hand enclosing him, moving up and down in time with his beautiful mouth stretched so wide over his cock and oh god it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.  “Dean I’m gonna…”

Dean just nods and relaxes his throat, letting Sam in that little extra bit so that Sam’s hitting the soft palate and Sam realizes that he’s in Dean’s throat and it’s too much even for him and he let’s go, it feels like years’ worth saved up for Dean, and he’s amazed when Dean swallows it all, well almost all, some leaking out down the side of his chin.  When Dean finally pulls off, Sam reaches down and wipes it off gently and holds his finger up to Dean’s mouth.  Dean’s eyes darken and he licks Sam’s finger completely clean.

“Now you. What do you want Dean?” Sam asks once his breath has returned enough to fill his lungs.

“You. Just you Sammy, anything.” Dean answers in a husky, wrecked voice.

“Want to fuck me?” Sam offers, hoping that it’s the right thing to say, because it’s all he wants right now, can’t think of anything else he’d rather have.

And Dean’s bravado evaporates as if it was never there.  The words out of Sam’s mouth so extraordinary and unexpected.  He scrambles up and gets his jeans and boxers off in record time, finally looking up to meet Sam’s eyes.  What he sees there almost makes him fall over, the depths of lust and desire and sheer want he sees in Sam’s hazel eyes is too much to bear for very long. So he moves his eyes down Sam’s body, spread out and wanton after his orgasm, Sam’s hand is stroking his half-hard cock slowly.  “Who’s beautiful now?” Dean says, immediately regretting it until he sees the fleeting look on Sam’s face, of nothing but acceptance, no teasing, no laughing at his sappiness, just deep appreciation at hearing words like that at a time like this.

Dean steps away from the couch and fumbles around in his duffel bag finally coming up with a tube of lube and some condoms.  By the time he’s back at the couch, Sam’s growing hard again and staring at Dean’s cock swaying and bouncing as he walks.  There’s something that he can’t deny inside, a preening feeling of enjoying being looked at, being desired.  It’s a good surprise to find that it’s really different, so much better, when it’s coming from someone he loves.  Dean throws the condoms down next to Sam’s hip, and gets some lube on his fingers, bringing them down to Sam’s hole and dropping the bottle off the bed.

“Relax, Sammy, not gonna hurt you.”

“I know Dean. Just hurry up.”

“Hang on sweetheart, I’ll get you there.”

Sam stops his writhing when he hears that endearment, almost freezing all his movements.  Dean decides to ignore it, giving himself a free pass for mushy talk during sex, a guy can’t help what comes out of his mouth at times like these.  But Sam’s eyes are softer now, like he’s seeing Dean for the first time.  Not just his big brother that he’s about to fool around with, but the man he loves, and who loves him.  Sam swallows around the lump in his throat and wraps his hand around Dean’s wrist, stopping the fingers moving in and out of him.  “I’m ready please Dean.”

“Okay, let me just.”  Dean reaches down and grabs one of the condom packages and starts to tear it, but Sam knocks it out of his fingers.

“Just you.  Want to feel you, all of you.”

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise.  “You’re the boss Sammy.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

Dean lines himself up at Sam’s entrance and rests the tip of his cock there, just partway in. He meets and holds Sam’s eyes, wanting to watch him the whole time he’s being entered.  Not only to make sure he’s not hurting Sam, but to see what it does to him, how being taken changes everything.  Sam gives a little nod and Dean pushes forward slowly and steadily, stopping every now and then until Sam relaxes enough for him to keep going.

Sam’s panting and breathing heavily, willing his inner muscles to relax and feeling so lit up inside that he can barely stay in the moment with Dean.  This feeling of being pinned down and opened loose and filled completely is like nothing he’s ever experienced.  And it’s Dean.  Finally Dean. Sam fumbles around until he reaches one of Dean’s hands at his side and twines their fingers together.

Dean lifts their joined hands up to his lips and kisses Sam’s fingers gently one at a time.

Sam sighs at this tenderness, feels so treasured and special because Dean is treating him so carefully.  He’d never thought about what kind of lover his brother would be.  He’d figured there’d be posturing, macho b.s. and relentless pounding.  Which honestly, still sounds pretty damned good, hopefully at some point that’ll happen too.  But tonight, this is not just fucking, they’re making love, not that he’d ever say that in a million years to Dean, but that’s what this is. He can see the love filling Dean up, his eyes are swimming with it, and he’s never seen this look on his brother’s face.  He unwraps their joined hands and cradles the side of Dean’s face in his hand.

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and leans into his touch.  Finally Dean comes to a stop, finally sheathed entirely inside Sam.  They both share a moment where it looks like they’re both about to cry out with joy, the bliss of finally being joined like this is almost overwhelming.  And then Sam moves his hips slightly and Dean slips just a little into the right position.

Sam cries out, as stars burst over his vision, he moves his hips again wanting that feeling back and Dean gets it, he’s found the sweet spot and he starts thrusting a little in and out slowly, trying to aim for it. Sam chasing the feeling now moving his hips in time until they sync up into a well-oiled machine, parts moving in time just like when they’re hunting.  Anticipating each other’s moves perfectly.

Dean starts losing his rhythm pretty soon, it all feels too good, the tight grip of his brother is too perfect, the slippery sliding feeling of the friction and the clenching as Sam reacts when he hits his prostate is all too much.  “Sammy, gonna.”

“Come on Dean, fill me.  Want to feel it.”

Dean redoubles his efforts finding the rhythm again, Sam joining him, body clenching and releasing, hips pulsing sinuously.  Sam pulls him down and raises up to meet him in a fierce claiming kiss.  The extra sensation of their lips touching is what sends Dean over the edge, convulsing and letting loose inside Sam.

Sam cries out at the feeling, being taken so deeply and feeling the liquid warmth inside, “Oh Dean, god, I never felt.” And Sam’s surprised that he comes too, all that extra friction of their bodies moving together was enough, he lets loose between them, coating their bellies in sticky heat.  Dean’s arms are shaking at this point, so Sam taps one to let him know to come down.

Dean pulls out as gently as he can and lowers himself down next to Sam burying his face in Sam’s sweaty neck.  And it’s perfect, nothing’s wrong, except they’re on a crappy green vinyl couch celebrating his last Christmas ever.  But he can’t think about that now, can’t bear it, not now that he’s finally got this.  Their breathing slows down to near normal before Sam finally breaks the silence.

“Thank you.  I really needed that.”  Sam’s breath hitches a little with too much emotion.

“You’re welcome, thank you, guess I needed it too.” Dean admits, kissing at Sam’s collarbone, licking up the salty taste off his soft skin.

“Want to move to the bed with me or you staying here?” Dean asks after he’s almost fallen off the edge of the couch several times.

Sam looks at him as if he’s revealed some essential truth he’d meant to keep secret.  “I’m coming with you, hold on.”  They get up and stumble over to one of the beds.  Dean detouring for a washcloth to clean them up with.  “Here let me.” He says, leaning over to wash Sam clean so gently.  He turns back the covers and pushes Sam down onto the bed.  He stalks over to the TV and turns it off, but he leaves the Christmas lights on.

Sam opens his arms up when he crawls under the covers and they fit themselves back together.  “You left the Christmas lights on.”

“Yeah I like how it looks.”

“Glad we did Christmas after all?”

“Oh yeah.  Night Sammy.”  Dean reaches up and kisses him softly, like a bookend to their first kiss not so long ago.

Sam presses into Dean’s lips and holds him close.  “Yeah, ‘night Dean.”

There’s nothing sweeter than this new connection and they revel in it for a few too-short months, unabashed and unashamed, taking each other to heights of pleasure and joy neither had imagined possible.  Everything finally feels right between them, like they’ve settled into the grooves meant for them in each other’s hearts.

To Sam, it feels like even though Dean is being taken from him, that he’ll never actually lose Dean.

To Dean, it feels like they’ve given each other something to always remember, no matter where they end up.

The Adjusters don’t realize that what’s happened here has changed everything for Sam and Dean, that now that they’ve completely given in to the love they’ve always felt, that there’s no turning back for either of them.
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While Dean is in Hell, Castiel runs into Gabriel in one of the Adjuster’s meeting rooms, “How’s it going with our tough nuts Castiel?”

Castiel looks up from his leather-bound portfolio, laid on the desk, “You’re not going to believe this Gabriel, look, their lines are not diverging now.  They are completely wrapped up into one solid line. Even after Hell.”

“How about the joining symbol there? You mean they actually?  Huh, I did not see that coming.” Gabriel says.

“I did not either.  We assumed the traditional human taboos were enough, but these two are really different from most humans.”

“I could’ve told you that, been watching them all their lives.  Guess you should have kept me on their case.” Gabriel says.

“Perhaps.” Castiel allows, although a pained look crosses his face.

“What’s Zachariah going to do about it?” Gabriel asks, hoping that he can somehow get back on the Winchester’s case.

“Come along and see.  We’re getting Dean out pretty soon.” Castiel says, hoping that Gabriel will be able to help him fix this mess.  Or at least be there to blame if all goes completely wrong.

“Where am I?” Dean says, disoriented beyond belief, he’s looking around himself frantically and somehow this over-the-top fancy room looks really familiar, like he’s been there before, but the horrific sights and sounds of Hell have taken over his memories, leaving him barely clinging to his soul.  Then he remembers, the Adjusters, and there they are, all three of them sitting in their comfy chairs, Gabriel, Castiel and Uriel.

“We’ve brought you back Dean.  You’re alive, back on Earth in our waiting room.” Castiel answers.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He is fine.  He is not here though.” Castiel says.

“I need him.  Need to see him. Now.” Dean insists.

“No Dean.  That is not what this is about.  It is not why we brought you back from Hell.  You have another task. And besides, this situation between the two of you is a serious deviation from The Plan." Castiel says with a serious frown.

”I’m pretty sure I told you before, I don’t care about your fucking Plan, and I sure as Hell don’t care about your fucking judgment of me and my brother. You let me go, I need to find him.”

“We will take you to him soon, but we need to get a few things straight first.  You are not to take up your sexual relationship with your brother again.  That needs to stop.  And your task is to assist us in stopping the breaking of the Seals holding Lucifer in his cage in Hell.”

“What?  None of that makes sense.” Dean shakes his head like he’s trying to make all the puzzle pieces fall into their correct places.

“Remember Lilith? The one who took you to Hell?  She is breaking the lock on Lucifer’s cage, to let him out, there are about six hundred of them, and she only needs to break sixty-six.” Castiel explains.

“Why is that my problem?” Dean asks, how is one human supposed to do anything about that?

“You were the one who broke the first seal, while you were in Hell when you took up the knife from Alastair.  It is written that you shall be the one to prevent Lucifer from escaping. We will assist you in this endeavor.  We shall reveal ourselves to your brother and call ourselves angels. But let me be clear, you are not to resume things with your brother.  And you are not to tell him of anything else you’ve seen here, or the order for resetting will be invoked. Are we agreed?”

“Yes, fine, just take me to him please.” Dean relents, hoping there’ll be some way out of this agreement because he knows there’s not a chance that Sam will take no for an answer for very long.

They reunite and Sam is beyond thrilled that Dean’s back and alive and mostly whole.  But he soon finds himself walking on eggshells around Dean, figuring that the trauma from Hell is what is keeping his brother from re-consummating things between them.  Time goes on and although they are close and work together on the Seals, the distance grows greater between them.  Dean eventually finds out the truth that Sam’s been hiding from him about the demon Ruby and he is heart-broken, feeling betrayed, and hurt beyond measure.  He sees that Sam’s consumed with revenge just like their father was, and isn’t sure how to help him.
Even when Sam meets the Adjusters who call themselves angels, he refuses to stop his course.  Both Uriel and Castiel try and fail to convince him, but they are not telling the whole story to the two humans they are assigned to.  Their duty is to the Adjustment Bureau, and The Plan, not to individual humans.
adjusting fate divider

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I have this open-tabbed to be read later today, so a quick note - your AO3 link doesn't work.

Yoinks! Thanks so much for letting me know, fixed it. Hope you like the fic.

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