Work Text:
December 2017 3AM
Dean fought a yawn, blinking heavily against the glow of his laptop in the darkness. The clacking of his fingers on the keys sounded thunderously loud surrounded by the 3am silence. Typically, Dean wouldn’t have brought the laptop to bed, but with Adler breathing down his neck to finish this project and a possibility of extended leave somewhere in the not-so-distant future, he really needed to finish this report before he finally turned in for the night.
“Dean.”
The muffled groan emanated from deep under the covers, where just the top of Castiel’s mop of unruly hair peeked up above the comforter.
“Sorry, babe,” Dean whispered.
“Wh’ time izzit?”
Dean checked the clock and briefly considered lying, but even though Cas was barely awake, he would somehow know in the morning. And tomorrow (later today, really) was probably the worst day to start out angry with each other.
“I’m almost done,” Dean said instead. “Gotta finish this before we head to the doc in the morning.”
Cas stirred at that and Dean cursed in his head. He scrubbed a hand down his face to look more alert as Cas rolled over and fixed him with an eerie stare in the low light.
“Are you nervous?” Dean shook his head, but Cas didn’t buy it. He moved closer, reaching out to touch Dean’s bare knee gently, nuzzling Dean’s thigh. “You’ll be fine,” Cas said, placing a delicate kiss on the smooth skin lightly sprinkled with soft hair and a generous dusting of freckles. “This isn’t our first rodeo, as they say.”
Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, it’s, what . . . fifth time’s the charm, I guess?” Cas caressed the sensitive skin of Dean’s inner thigh, continuing to lay soft kisses up and down the part of Dean’s leg he could reach. He didn’t say anything, though. Dean had made it quite clear where Cas could stick his platitudes, thanks.
It didn’t help that he was more bitter than usual this time. Dean’s heart and stomach clenched tight at the thought of heading back into the office after the few days of cautious excitement he and Cas had shared just two weeks ago. It seemed almost too soon, if he thought about it, but he’d been officially cleared at his last appointment on Monday, so tomorrow (today), Thursday, they’d be going in again for what would be the final round before the tentative conversations they’d had went from hypothetical to disturbingly concrete.
“I love you,” Cas said, pulling Dean from his dark spiraling thoughts. He could probably smell the sharp anxiety that was starting to seep into Dean’s worn leather scent. Dean managed a tight smile at his mate, who had propped his chin up on Dean’s thigh, continuing to rub soothing circles just above Dean’s knee.
“I love you, too, little alpha,” Dean said, swallowing thickly.
“I know,” Cas said with a sleepy smirk. “Now, go to sleep.”
Dean sighed, but the real final straw was when he looked back at the last sentence he’d written and found he could barely make out what he’d meant to say through the typos. He shut his laptop with a snap, plunging the bedroom into darkness. He set the computer on his nightstand, then slid down into the covers. Castiel immediately reached over, tugging Dean into his strong arms and placing soft kisses over Dean’s mating scar. The lump that kept threatening to clog Dean’s throat wedged itself there, and he swallowed hard against the pricking feeling in the corners of his eyes. Cas seemed to sense it, though, and pulled him in tightly, back against Cas’s chest, a solid barrier between Dean and the outside world. Cas shoved his nose into Dean’s scent gland, and his steady breathing started to soothe Dean.
They lay there in silence such a long time that Dean was sure Cas had fallen back to sleep. So he was hardly expecting a reply when he whispered, “What if it doesn’t work?” into the darkness.
“Then I will sit down with my gorgeous, intelligent, talented mate and discuss what we do next,” Castiel murmured pragmatically into Dean’s ear. Dean tugged Cas’s arms more tightly around himself, slipping his fingers into the gaps between those pressed against his chest.
A little over three weeks ago Cas had tentatively slid that hand down to rest over Dean’s lower abdomen, where for a few shining days Dean had carried their pup. It hadn’t even technically been considered a miscarriage; it was what they called a “chemical pregnancy,” where his hormones had changed enough to register on a pregnancy test, but the developing embryo hadn’t truly implanted in his womb. Dean had tried not to get his hopes up, but it was the first time he’d seen “positive” on the little pink and white stick since he’d had his first miscarriage two years ago (a “real” one, at eight whole weeks). He’d been more excited than he’d even let on.
“I’m scared, Cas,” Dean breathed, swallowing hard.
“It’s going to be okay,” Cas replied, nuzzling Dean’s neck to calm his mate, though a slight tendril of apprehension bled through Cas’s crisp coffee bean scent. “I’m here, my sweet omega. No matter what.”
March 2014 2:20PM
Dean took deep, steadying breaths as he shifted on the table. The crinkle of the damn paper cover mixed with the antiseptic smell of the exam room never failed to send him panicking. The doctor was already almost forty-five minutes late, according to his phone, but at least Dean was fully clothed instead of having his ass hanging out of the back of a paper gown. It was always like this at the Omega Specialist’s office; not enough doctors and too many patients waiting to get in. Dean was lucky if his OS saw him in the same hour he’d scheduled an appointment. He’d had whole appointments cancelled because another patient went into labor and his OS was on call.
Fuck, he hoped that wasn’t the case today.
A sharp rap on the door startled Dean out of his thoughts, then, finally, the door swung open to admit his doctor.
“Hello, Dean!” Dr. Banes said softly as she walked in. Dean smiled even though he’d started to harbor a whole butterfly colony in his stomach. Dr. Tasha Banes usually did a good job of putting him at ease.
“Hey, Doc. How’re the kids?”
“Oh, they’re fine. Max thinks he’s found his true mate, though if that’s the case he’s an evolutionary marvel, because this is the third one he’s been certain is ‘the one.’” She chuckled and shook her head, her lively hair wobbling with the movement. “Anyway, how are you, Dean?”
Her eyes were earnest, and open, and Dean had been seeing her for the last six years, ever since he and Cas were mated and moved across the country so his alpha could become a college professor. Still, though, old habits died hard and even though Dean had called to make this appointment for this exact reason, he still had to clench his fists and look away from her.
“I think . . . Cas and me . . . we wanna start a family.”
“That’s wonderful,” Dr. Banes said, prompting. Dean shifted uncomfortably; the paper sheet crinkled.
“But, uh, we’ve been kinda trying? Maybe a little? Just, threw out my birth control and spent my heats, um . . . y’know, no condoms, and see what happened. But, uh, so far nothin’s happened.”
Dr. Banes was nodding along as he talked, jotting down notes. “And how long has this been?”
“Um, let’s see . . . right after Cas got tenure, so . . . a year and a half, maybe? He got it early, so, yeah, probably a year and a half.”
“Hmm. Okay. How have your heats been?”
Dean shrugged. “Dunno, Doc. I mean, they’ve been fun, don’t get me wrong, but . . .”
“No, I’m sorry, I meant how long do they usually last? Have you been getting them regularly?”
Dean chewed on the inside of his lip. “At first, yeah. I had maybe two after I got off the pill? Once a month, like clockwork. Then they started getting farther apart, and now it’s pretty unpredictable.”
“Same thing for duration? Unpredictable?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. A couple months ago it was only two days. Thought maybe we’d . . .” He sighed. “But no, had another one just a couple weeks later.”
Dr. Banes was nodding, making more notes in his chart, like she’d been expecting that. “Okay, Dean,” she said seriously, looking up at him again. “First, you did the right thing coming to see me. Usually for couples in their early thirties with no pre-existing issues, like you and Cas, we recommend that you see a doctor after a year of unprotected heats without conception. Next, we’re going to run a few tests. Given your history of erratic heats and your height and build, I have a suspicion that we’re probably looking at o-PCOS, but I want to get some bloodwork and an ultrasound just to be sure.”
“‘Oh-pea-sea-oh-ess’?” Dean repeated.
“It stands for ‘Omega Polycystic Ovary Syndrome.’ It’s actually quite common in male omegas, especially those with your physique. It’s also the most common cause of male omega infertility.”
A vice squeezed Dean’s heart. “Infertility?” he asked. Dr. Banes reached out and patted his hand.
“It’s okay, Dean. It just means that you might need a little help conceiving. Trust me, this could be a very simple fix.”
December 2017 Noon
The paper sheet crinkled under Dean’s ass as he jiggled his foot impatiently. Cas was sitting in the chair in the corner, answering work emails on his phone. Finals were quickly approaching, and Cas had skipped his office hours to accompany Dean to the OS, so students were probably blowing up his inbox. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence between them.
Just as Dean was about to ask Cas what he thought was taking so long, there was a soft knock on the door before it creaked open to admit Dr. Banes. Dean sat up a little straighter and Cas tucked away his phone.
“Hello, gentlemen,” Dr. Banes said cheerfully, pulling up her rolling chair. She smiled at them both in turn. “How are you today?”
“Nervous, Doc, not gonna lie,” Dean said, rubbing his hands on his thighs. Cas reached out to take his hand.
“That’s understandable. Now, Dean, your blood work came back great, all normal levels which is excellent at this point.” Dean swallowed hard, but managed to keep his face neutral. “And Cas, your last semen analysis was good.”
“Sack full of little Michael Phelps-es, huh?” Dean joked. Dr. Banes pursed her lips, but Cas gave Dean’s weak joke a little eye roll and a fond smirk. Dr. Banes cleared her throat.
“Anyway, what I was going to say is that you’re all clear for another round of IUI, but guys . . .” She looked back and forth between the two of them before putting her chart aside. “I’m not going to pretend that your situation isn’t tricky. I know we talked about this before, but I need you to seriously consider your options.”
Dean’s mouth was dry, but luckily Cas answered, gripping Dean’s hand tightly. “We have. We agreed to do as many rounds of intrauterine insemination as were practical before making a decision on anything more invasive, but . . .”
“I don’t want to do IVF,” Dean said quietly, looking down at their joined hands. Cas rubbed his hand reassuringly with his thumb, but Dean felt his eyes burn anyway. “The shots and shit fuck me up enough as it is. I don’t think my body can take that.”
When Dr. Banes finally spoke again, her voice was calm and steady. “Whatever happens, Dean, that decision is yours to make. I know how long you guys have been trying for this, and I am here for you no matter what you elect to do. I can give you my medical advice, if you’re ready.”
Dean stared at Cas’s hand in his for a long moment, his mate’s long, nimble fingers entwined in his. They had talked about this, but right now . . . it felt like giving up. Cas gave his hand another squeeze, and Dean took a deep, shaky breath.
“Okay, Doc,” he said, looking up. “Lay it on me.”
Dr. Banes smiled again. “You’re both healthy with good test results, so theoretically we could continue on with the rounds of IUI indefinitely. But, as you said, the trigger shots are hard on your body, and research has shown that after six rounds of IUI the effective rate of the procedure drops exponentially. Especially in male omegas over thirty-five. So, what I would recommend is that we do this one more time: start the ProMega today, then in five days come in for an ultrasound and hopefully do the trigger shot and then the procedure twenty-four hours later. Cas, I know you’re an old pro at this by now, but no ejaculating for three days before the procedure.”
Dean was nodding along. It was all the same thing they’d been through five times before. “Yup, all sounds pretty routine.”
“Then, I’ve got one more thing for you, and it’s incredibly important.” She leaned forward, like she had some kind of secret. “After that, go home, and enjoy your heat. I’m talking full-on, newlymated heat sex. You officially have my permission as a medical professional.”
Dean glanced at Cas, who was looking at Dean out of the corner of his eye. It was true; they’d been cautious during his last few heats, not wanting to do anything that might disrupt the procedure. Dean smiled shyly, then winked at Cas, who blushed. Cas’s scent bloomed slightly with arousal, which made Dean squirm on the damned crinkly sheet. Dr. Banes rolled her eyes.
“All right, you two. Let’s get you set up with medications, and then we’ll give this another shot.” She stood up, and reached out to Dean, enveloping his hand in both of hers. Her touch always set Dean at ease, and the little hint of worry that he hadn’t even noticed threading through his scent faded. “Good vibes, Dean.”
She shook hands with Cas before nodding to them both and leaving.
“Well,” Dean said, hopping off the exam table. “We should go get you to work—”
Cas cut him off by taking hold of the back of his neck and gently guiding him into a fervent kiss. Dean melted, all of the leftover tension draining from him as he wrapped his arms around his alpha and leaned into him. Cas’s lips were warm and soft and familiar, and Dean couldn’t help but nip lightly at them, darting his tongue out to get Cas to deepen the kiss. It was only a few moments, however, before Cas pulled back with a couple of light pecks to his lips, and finally a lingering kiss pressed to his forehead. Dean couldn’t suppress the small whine that escaped as Cas moved just far enough away to stare into his eyes. As always, Dean felt like Cas was staring into the depths of his soul with his deep-blue x-ray vision. Cas smiled, small and secret, but Dean could see his own worry reflected there, too.
“I love you,” Cas said. Dean butted his forehead gently against his mate’s.
“Love you, too, little alpha.”
December 2017 Five days later
Dean wanted to find whatever fucking alpha had invented fucking trigger shots and string them up by their knot. All of his internet research said that he wasn’t supposed to feel it, that a male omega’s ovaries were buried so deep in fluid and connective tissue that it was next to impossible to feel any pain there at all. Aside from the agonizing cramps of heat, when his body was attempting to pump out as many viable eggs as possible to encourage pregnancy (and the reason omegas were more likely to carry multiples than betas), his internal reproductive system was supposed to be relatively quiet and invisible.
But fuck all of that. Dean was currently doubled over in pain, trying not to hurl the last of his lunch onto the pavement outside of the Omega Clinic. Cas placed a comforting hand on the small of his back, but Dean waved him off.
“I’m fine,” he spat, sucking in a deep breath. The wave passed, and Dean managed to make it into the clinic. Cas reached out to grip his hand as they made it into the lobby and signed in. Dean latched on gratefully, refusing to acknowledge the way his scent calmed at his alpha’s touch.
They were called in together, but then Dean was shown to a procedure room while Cas was taken further down the hall for a much more fun activity.
“Y’know, I didn’t know any better, I’d think you just wanted to have an excuse to jack off in the middle of a work day,” Dean teased. Cas rolled his eyes, but gave Dean a peck on the cheek before following a nurse toward his own room. “Oh, yeah, baby, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”
A female omega shot him a bitchface as she walked past, but Dean ignored her. He took a deep breath as the nurse led him into the room.
By this point, he knew the drill, so he was already undressing below the waist before the nurse gave her instructions. Dr. Banes came in shortly thereafter, followed by a flushed-looking Cas who settled into a chair by Dean’s head. He glared at Dean, who was pursing his lips to hold back a laugh.
It was hard not to move during the procedure, but the whole thing was over quickly and before he knew it he was dressed again and driving back home. The trigger shot was supposed to kick-start his heat anywhere between twenty-four and thirty-six hours after it was administered. Aside from the awful cramps, Dean wasn’t feeling any symptoms. Cas kissed him again until he shivered all the way down to his toes, but Dean was just starting to enjoy it when Cas moved away to try to leave for work. Dean grabbed him before he could get too far.
“C’mon, alpha, can’t leave me like that,” Dean said, wrapping his arms around Cas’s waist and grabbing handfuls of his ass. Cas growled, tangling his fingers in Dean’s hair and pulling his head back to run his nose along the line of Dean’s throat. Dean shivered again, baring his throat to his alpha. Cas pressed gentle kisses on Dean’s mating mark, then left a hot trail up to his ear and along the underside of his jaw. He started to go a bit weak in the knees at the attention Cas lavished on his scent gland until he realized . . . Cas was scenting him. Subtly, sure, but he was searching.
“Can’t smell anything yet, alpha,” Dean murmured, voice thick. Cas stiffened, then dropped his forehead onto Dean’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Cas said as he pulled back. Dean cradled Cas’s face in his hand.
“Nothin’ to be sorry for.”
They kissed for a little while longer; so long that Dean got lost in it.
“I really do need to go to work, Dean. My heat leave doesn’t start until you’re officially in heat.”
“Mmm, but I need you, baby,” Dean said, pressing kisses into Cas’s deep collarbones, just visible under the opened neck of his Oxford shirt. Cas chuckled, but extricated himself from Dean’s grip.
“I know you do, but Roman will have my head if I’m not back by one.”
Cas did eventually manage to make it out of the door. Dean rode out another wave of cramps after Cas left, but he hadn’t felt any of the fever or needy symptoms yet, so he probably had a few hours.
Dean spent some of the time getting another report ready, but he had a hard time concentrating on the page. The butterflies that had nested in his stomach were fluttering up a storm. He pressed a hand against his belly to calm them, then slowly, hesitantly let his hand drift down to his lower abdomen before snatching his hand away like he’d been burned.
“Fuck,” Dean hissed, flipping his laptop closed and storming into the bathroom.
He ran a warm (but not too hot, not good for conception to raise his body temperature) shower, letting the water run over his body. His skin was starting to feel too tight, prickly and sensitive, which was part of the heat, but . . .
This was it. The last time. And his stupid, broken body wasn’t good enough to do what omegas had been doing since time began.
Maybe they could do IVF? They didn’t really have the money, but maybe in a year, or if they took out a loan . . .
Cas deserved this. He deserved a mate who could give him pups, but Dean wasn’t good enough.
The water ran cold, and Dean sighed, turning off the water and getting out of the shower. He’d mostly worked through these thoughts, but there was a ton riding on this.
As Dean was drying off, he realized that it wasn’t just water soaking his skin. The shower had helped equalize his body temperature, but he was starting to sweat, and a slow trickle of slick was leaking from his increasingly sensitive hole.
Please, Dean thought earnestly, the itch under his skin starting to become an ache. Please let this work.
December 2017 5:35PM
Cas left his desk at five o’clock sharp, dodging Naomi, the head of his department, and a few of the entry level accountants that answered to him had questions that he redirected to the department assistant. Dean hadn’t been in contact all day, which wasn’t really like him for the last couple of months. When they first started IUI, Dean updated him with every small change, and he would race home at the first sign of Dean’s heat. In the last few months, however, sex had started to feel like an obligation. They’d gone through a rough period back when Dean had been on ProMega only and it felt like they weren’t doing anything together except talking about sex, thinking about sex, planning sex, and having sex. Which was great, at first, but then Cas had some trouble maintaining his knot, and . . .
But Dean was amazing. And he was going to be an amazing father. Cas just hoped that they were lucky this time.
Cas parked his Lincoln next to Dean’s Baby in the garage, giving an affectionate pat to the Impala on his way inside.
The scent hit him the moment he walked in the door. The whole house smelled like leather and cloves, thick and heady. Cas couldn’t help but breathe deeply; maybe it was wishful thinking, but it seemed like Dean’s heat scent was stronger than it had been in months.
A loud groan from the direction of the bedroom pulled Cas from his thoughts with a flare of alpha desire. He dropped his keys and briefcase in the kitchen and rushed down the hallway, loosening his tie along the way.
When he opened the bedroom door, his knees nearly buckled at the sight. Dean was naked on the bed, writhing against the rumpled sheets in a makeshift nest. He had three fingers in his hole, his ass and thighs covered in slick while he humped desperately at the mattress.
“Oh, Dean,” Cas said, stripping off his suit coat and tie. Dean was clearly out of it, only turning to face Cas when he heard his voice. He usually responded more strongly to Cas’s scent.
“Alpha,” Dean whined. “N-need you, Alpha.”
Cas watched Dean turn and reach for him, his hard cock bobbing obscenely between his hips. Cas stumbled over his feet as his pants got caught up on his shoes, but Dean was too far gone to laugh. By the time he got to Dean, Cas was rock hard and arousal was buzzing thick through his veins. He lowered himself over his omega, kissing Dean’s plush lips, pulling the lower one into his mouth to suck gently. Dean moaned, wrapping his arms around Cas.
“Fuck me, Cas,” Dean gasped when Cas released his lip with an audible pop. Cas hummed, leaning down to lap at Dean’s mating bite.
“Soon, my omega,” Cas growled, nipping and sucking at the tender skin along Dean’s throat. Dean threw his head back, allowing Cas access to more skin.
Dean smelled incredible, and Cas took his time to take it in from the source. His mate was drenched in sweat, writhing beneath him, skin sticking to sweat-slick skin, and for the first time in months Cas felt good.
“Please,” Dean huffed as Cas kissed down his body, hands gripping his own hair. “Oh, Cas, please . . . mmmm . . .”
Cas paused in his downward trek to take one of Dean’s pebbled nipples into his mouth, lapping at it and rolling it between his teeth. He bit down hard, and when Dean cried out he pulled back to blow cool air over it, soothing it before he moved to give the other the same treatment. Dean’s hands found their way into Cas’s hair as Cas kissed lower and lower until he got to the small swell of pudge between Dean’s hips.
Tears welled unbidden in Cas’s eyes as he pressed one slow, gentle kiss to the skin there, to the hope below it. Cas loved Dean, loved their life together, and if they never had a child of their own, he knew he could be happy forever. But if it worked . . .
Dean rolled his hips, nudging his neglected cock toward Cas’s face. He smelled strongest here, scent deep and musky. He gave in to Dean’s insistence, licking a long stripe up the underside of Dean’s swollen dick. Dean keened, arching up off the bed.
“Oh, god,” Dean moaned, a fresh wave of slick gushing from his hole, intensifying the intoxicating scent in the air. Cas laughed, then swallowed him down to the root.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Dean tried to thrust into Cas’s mouth, but Cas held his hips gently, swallowing and bobbing on his cock to draw more frantic moans from him.
“Gonna come, Cas,” Dean gasped, attempting to push Cas away, but Cas wasn’t deterred. He reached down to slide two fingers into Dean’s swollen, soaked hole, seeking directly for his prostate.
The moment Cas found the bundle of nerves, Dean practically screamed, coming hard down Cas’s throat, hole clenching around his fingers. Cas suckled him gently through the aftershocks until Dean’s breathing evened out and his scent mellowed. He released Dean’s softening cock, lapping once at the oversensitive head to make Dean squirm before moving back up to kiss him deeply. Dean’s tongue lapped at Castiel’s, chasing the taste of his own release. Their slick mouths moved together for long moments until Dean came down from his orgasm, his eyes blinking open to focus on Cas.
“Hey, there, Alpha,” Dean said, brushing Cas’s sweaty hair from his forehead. Cas kissed the tip of Dean’s nose.
“Feeling better, honey?” Dean nodded.
“Still need you to fuck me, though,” he growled, almost indignant. Cas brushed his lips over Dean’s jaw.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he whispered, kissing the sensitive spot below Dean’s ear and eliciting a shudder. Dean took advantage of the opportunity and rolled on top of Cas, grinding his hips onto the alpha’s cock, spreading his slick all over. Cas groaned.
“Gonna fuck me, Cas?” Dean asked, cock starting to fill again at an omega’s quick refractory rate. “Gonna bounce me on your cock?”
“Mmmm,” Cas moaned, rubbing his hands up and down Dean’s flanks. “Yes,” he hissed as the head of his cock caught on Dean’s puffy rim. “Gonna fill you up.”
“Do it, baby,” Dean said, but he was the one who reached behind to line Cas up with his hole. “Fuck me full.”
Whether he was okay if they conceived or not, Cas’s alpha was all in for fucking Dean hard and fast to pump him as full as he could until he caught. Dean slid down Cas’s cock agonizingly slowly so he felt each velvety, searing inch. A high-pitched whine came from one of them, though Cas honestly couldn’t say which. Once Dean was fully seated, he sat panting for a moment while Cas twitched inside of him. At first, Cas thought Dean was getting accustomed to the stretch, but then it dragged on. Finally, he saw the pinch between Dean’s eyebrows and his heart ached.
“It’s okay,” Cas said, shifting so he could reach up to stroke Dean’s cheek. A single tear rolled down it, so Cas brushed it away.
“Wanna be good for you, Alpha,” Dean mumbled. Now Cas knew it was him who whined.
“Oh, sweetheart. You are. You’re my beautiful omega.”
“’M broken,” Dean slurred, tears starting to fall now. Cas reached up and pulled Dean to him, nudging Dean to scent him, their shared scent born of their bond. Gently, he stroked Dean’s hair.
“You’re not broken, honey. You’re perfect.” Dean whined. “You are. You’re stunning, and strong, and smart, and made for me.” He rolled his hips, seeking a little friction, and was relieved when Dean responded by grinding back against him. “Sexy. Generous. Kind.” He punctuated every word with a slow thrust, building in intensity until Dean was panting against him. “My everything.”
Dean braced himself against the mattress so he could push back against Cas’s increasingly frantic thrusts. They were beyond words now, Cas moaning and whimpering Dean’s name while Dean huffed out little grunts with each hard thrust.
“Gonna—gonna knot you,” Cas panted. Dean nodded frantically against Cas’s shoulder. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and planted his feet on the bed for better leverage, lifting Dean up onto his knees. He pulled Dean down into every thrust, Dean crying out with each direct hit to his prostate.
“Knot me, alpha,” Dean breathed into Cas’s ear. “Knot me. Fill me. Breed me.”
Cas’s inner alpha surged, and as Dean ground himself down against Cas’s hips, his knot tingled and swelled, starting to lock inside Dean. He pushed himself up to sitting, wrapping Dean up in his arms as they could now do little but grind their hips in figure-eights, forcing Cas’s knot deep inside Dean.
“Come on my knot, Dean,” Cas commanded, and Dean worked his hips harder, rubbing the knot, now almost fist-sized and trapped inside Dean, against his sensitive rim. Cas reached between them to wrap his hand around Dean’s cock, spit and slick and pre-come easing the way as he jacked him rough and hard until Dean cried out, spilling hot over Cas’s fist. Dean’s channel spasmed, milking Cas’s knot as Cas’s pleasure surged and he came, spilling deep inside Dean.
It took Cas a while to come back to reality, and by the time he could focus on Dean’s face the sweat and come had started to cool on their bodies. Dean shifted slightly in his lap, making Cas grunt and bite his lip as a secondary orgasm rippled through him. Dean smiled almost shyly.
“Sorry for, y’know,” he said, and through the haze of two spectacular orgasms, it took Cas a moment to remember what Dean meant. He traced a tear track down Dean’s cheek, and considered it a win that Dean didn’t shy away.
“No apologies needed,” he said.
The doctors had said that the first knotted orgasm was the one that contained the most sperm, so any secondary (or tertiary, or whatever four or more might be) orgasms wouldn’t be particularly helpful. It felt good, though, to have Dean’s inner muscles squeezing his cock as Dean’s arousal fell and his heat wave was sated. He couldn’t help but let his fingers wander absently over Dean’s lower abdomen, wondering if they might have succeeded this time.
“Tickles, little alpha,” Dean said, so Cas stopped, but Dean kept Cas inside him as long as he could, even as Cas’s knot deflated, so of course Dean was thinking about it, too.
“We should shower,” Cas said when he finally slipped out of Dean. Dean seemed reluctant to move, so Cas extricated himself from his mate’s limbs and climbed out of bed. “Suit yourself.”
He was stopped by Dean’s hand on his wrist, pulling him around. Dean’s green eyes were sparkling. “I love you,” he said. Cas smiled.
“I love you, too.” He paused, then decided to go ahead. “I love you, with or without pups.”
Dean seemed to brush it off, but then looked down and swallowed hard before he glanced back up, humor in his eyes. “All right, go take a shower, filthy alpha sap.”
It wasn’t long before the next wave hit. Cas had learned long ago to stop trying to gauge how intense the current heat was to previous ones. It was always subjective, wishful thinking.
Still, when Dean’s heat ended a whole day and a half early, he couldn’t help but allow himself to hope.
December 2015 Evening
As Cas pulled into the garage, anxiety grew a thick knot in his stomach. The last few weeks had been awful; he almost dreaded what he would find when he went into the house. He and Dean had just closed on it in September and spent the last couple of months on the small upgrades they could afford on Cas’s new salary. It should be full of happiness and potential, and it had been. In fact, a month ago it was the happiest he’d been since the day Dean agreed to be his mate.
Then there had been cramping, and bleeding, and a rushed trip to the hospital where sympathetic but detached doctors had told them it was common and would run its course. They were very sorry.
Dean had been devastated; the hardest part for Cas was watching him shut down. Cas had brought him home and tucked him into bed with the prescription pain relievers and a glass of water before heading down the short hallway to the last unfinished room in the house.
They’d barely started on its remodel, new flooring and a coat of paint, before the day Dean had woken him in the middle of the night in a panic. Cas looked around at it, chest tight, before he closed the door and went back to his mate.
Cas climbed out of his car and dragged his fingers gently across Baby’s hood as he passed. A thin layer of dust was starting to gather, so he was careful not to touch too much lest he scratch her pristine paint. He should take her for a wash next weekend.
The now-familiar scent of omega mourning still filled the house when he entered. It had grown a little stale, less fresh than it had been in recent days. So, it wasn’t the scent that surprised him as he made his way through the kitchen and into the living room.
Jazzy Christmas music was playing from the stereo system in the corner, boxes scattered around the floor in various states of unpacking. In the opposite corner stood an artificial tree, the kind with lights already attached, and dancing—dancing—through the middle of it was Dean. He was wearing his favorite plaid pajama pants and Cas’s old university sweatshirt, moving from box to box and hanging ornaments from the tree. Cas pressed a hand to the smile that was threatening to spread across his face. It felt unfamiliar. He watched Dean swivel around on the hardwood floor in his socks, singing along quietly to himself as he meticulously selected ornaments for the tree. At one point, he attempted a Risky Business slide, but didn’t have quite enough room, so he stumbled and caught himself, and Cas burst out laughing. Dean looked up, startled at the noise, but then his lips twitched in a ghost of a smile.
“Hey, Cas,” he said. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
Dean’s sense of smell had been dulled by the medication he’d been taking since the miscarriage, so it didn’t surprise Cas he hadn’t been able to scent him. He’d enjoyed being able to see Dean at such ease. The vice grip around his heart lessened a little as he made his way over to him.
“Feeling in the Christmas spirit?” he asked, gesturing at the tree. Dean shrugged.
“Kinda sick of sitting around on my ass, y’know? Medical leave is great and all, but woke up this morning just kinda . . . itching to do something.”
Cas reveled in the familiar, clear worn leather scent that was emanating from Dean, discernible for the first time in a month from the acrid smell of grief. Dean’s nose twitched, too, and Cas knew his own scent was clearing a bit to reflect it. Cas smiled.
“I think it’s lovely, Dean,” he said, reaching for Dean’s hand. Dean ran the other one through his hair, avoiding Cas’s eyes. “It’s perfect.”
Dean blushed, still looking at the floor. “I, uh, found my box of ornaments. The one from my—my mom’s house.” He blinked a few times, clutching tightly to Cas’s hand. “Found ‘em in the attic, and wanted . . . just wanted . . .”
The catch in Dean’s breath made Cas’s heart ache, and even though he’d been careful not to touch Dean unless he asked, he couldn’t help but lean forward and press him close. Dean stiffened, but only for a moment, before he relaxed into Cas’s grip and hugged him back. Tears pricked behind Cas’s eyes when Dean turned his nose in to scent him, relief flooding the air around them. Cas clutched at the back of Dean’s sweatshirt as Dean whimpered a little into Cas’s neck.
They held each other for a long while, until the music stopped, and the house grew quiet. Finally, Dean pulled back, but only far enough to place a soft, tentative kiss on Cas’s lips. Cas’s eyebrows knitted together as he restrained himself against his instinct to press back, to pursue it. Dean’s kisses were achingly gentle, warming Cas to his core.
They would get through this. Together, things would get better. All they needed was each other.
Christmas 2017 5AM
Dean sat on the closed toilet in their master bathroom, heels bouncing in a fast, rhythmless pattern. This was ridiculous. They had an appointment set up at the end of the week; no matter what the outcome, they would know then.
It had been three weeks since Dean’s abbreviated heat, and even though he knew better than to hope based on something as unpredictable as heat length, it had been the only thing he could think about. Finally, he’d given in to impulse and bought four of the most sensitive pregnancy tests on the market . . . then promptly shoved them as far back in the closet as he could. It was stupid. It was probably too early to tell, anyway, he didn’t have any symptoms, it was a waste of money. If they were still unwrapped, he could return them.
Well, he could return three of them. An open box sat on the counter, a single test still in its wrapper, but with wrapper opened, clutched in his hand.
This was exactly the kind of obsessive behavior Dr. Banes didn’t want him to fall into.
His bladder was still full from overnight, knowing the test was most accurate first thing after waking up. He was going to have to make a decision soon, or wait at least another day before sitting and agonizing over it again.
Fuck it, Dean thought, standing and ripping the test out of its package.
It took three minutes to develop, which were always the longest three minutes of his life. Determined not to peek, he set the test down carefully on the edge of the tub and washed his hands. He programmed an alert on his phone, then packed away the rest of the tests.
Cas was still sleeping peacefully as Dean passed their bed. If the test was negative, Dean already decided he wouldn’t say anything. It was still too early, and Dr. Banes would be more accurate, anyway. This was just . . . to soothe that nagging voice in the back of Dean’s head.
The alarm on his phone went off, so he silenced it quickly and walked back to the bathroom. He tried to temper his expectations, but his heart had climbed somewhere near his throat and was stuck there, waiting.
He went into the bathroom, closed the door behind him, then slowly approached the tub. There the test sat, innocuous and plastic, its little window obscured by its own edge, until Dean leaned closer and his heart stopped.
Two clear, pink lines. Pregnant.
October 2018 7:52AM
The alarm clock blared that god-awful noise, pulling Cas from a pleasant dream. He turned over to silence it and was immediately ensnared by a strong arm, pulling him back into bed. Cas smiled, turning to face Dean who still seemed half-asleep. He kissed Dean’s forehead, nuzzling him a bit, before Dean draped his arm across Cas’s waist and pulled him as close as he could with Dean’s nine-month belly between them.
They’d taken to sleeping this way, face-to-face with the pup in the middle, cocooned and protected by her fiercely devoted parents. It had been a comfort during those early months while Dean had been on medication to prevent another miscarriage, then again in the second trimester when Dean’s cervix attempted to fail. He’d been determined to avoid bedrest, and though there was little either of them could do to affect it, somehow he’d managed to get all the way into his eighth month before he was medically required to start working from home.
Dean had fought, and now they were here. Their daughter had reached forty weeks gestation on Thursday, so now it was anyone’s guess. Dr. Banes had released the stitch in Dean’s cervix, so he’d been dilated at a low number for a week, but there were no other signs of labor. Dean was convinced he’d worked too hard to keep her in, that now she wouldn’t want to come out. Cas thought she deserved as much time tucked away in her warm sanctuary as she could get.
He reached out to stroke the large, round swell of Dean’s belly, his inner alpha practically purring with pride. They’d done it, and soon they would be a family of three.
“Go back to sleep, little alpha,” Dean murmured, grabbing Cas’s hand and inching closer, pressing his belly up against Cas’s flat stomach. Sometimes he felt his daughter kick like this in their sleep.
He hoped their family would always be this peaceful.
The peace didn’t even last through the day. Dean mentioned he’d been feeling some lower back pain over the last couple of days that he’d ignored as a symptom of late-term pregnancy, but then suddenly he was doubling over in the kitchen in pain. When Cas came home from work, Dean was gasping in the living room, hands pressed to his stomach.
“Think it’s showtime, babe,” he’d said, before Cas rushed to their room and grabbed their prepared hospital bags and then ushered Dean out to the car.
Her arrival was complicated, because of course it was, and Dean’s gorgeous, masculine hips hadn’t spread enough to deliver without surgical intervention. Ten hours and one c-section later, though, Dean was resting in a hospital bed, shirtless, with their tiny, fragile daughter nestled on his bare chest.
The ecstatic family members had already been and gone, so now Cas was watching Dean watch her sleep in the quiet early evening hours.
“You’re amazing,” Cas said quietly. Dean blinked up at him, smiling blithely.
“She’s amazing,” Dean replied, tracing a finger down her face. “Dunno if I can do this again, though, babe.” Cas stood up and crossed the room, running a hand through Dean’s hair.
“It’s enough,” Cas said, pressing a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “It’s more than enough. I love you both so much. This is more than enough for me.”
Dean blinked away tears, then nodded. “Me, too,” he whispered, looking back down at her sleeping form.
Before Dean delivered, Cas wasn’t sure how he’d feel when it was over. They had spent so many years of their lives together trying to make this happen. He wanted Dean and his pup safe and healthy, but how would it really feel?
In the end the answer was perfect.
“You are the luckiest pup in the whole world, Emma,” Dean murmured, his scent thick with pride and love. “Your papa and I love you very much. We waited a long time for you, kid.”
Yes, those two words seemed to sum it up: Emma was perfect. And Dean was everything. And together they were enough.