Month One

The night Castiel told Dean, he'd already known for a while, even before he bought the test. It was pretty obvious, textbook, even. He'd had a heat recently. He'd been feeling mildly nauseous, although he had yet to throw up, thankfully. The test had only been a confirmation. And Castiel was...shocked, at how happy he was to see the pink plus sign.

He'd never expected to be that omega. Mated, pregnant. Things had changed somewhat when he'd met Dean. When they'd first begun courting, though, Dean hadn't wanted pups much, either. Castiel wasn't sure where along the line priorities had shifted for both of them. Clearly, though, they had.

He wanted to wait for exactly the right time. Dean asking for his neck had been so quietly perfect Castiel felt obligated to return the favor. Dean had to already suspect something was up; he kept sniffing Castiel, because his scent must have changed, and looking at him curiously. But the telling would still be special. Momentous.

Castiel knew it was time one Friday night about a week after he'd taken the test, when he got home from the office half an hour before Dean got off at the garage. He hung up his trench coat, put his briefcase away, and brushed off a tiny, niggling doubt that Dean wouldn't be pleased.

"Pregnant?" Dean stared at Castiel across the couch cushion between them. His scent and face were unreadable to Castiel currently, even five years after bonding. "So, you...you're sure about this."

"Yes." Castiel passed the positive test (which he'd cleaned, of course) to Dean, who held it like it was a hollow eggshell and stared down at it. Maybe a second later, Castiel was practically tackled with a fierce hug, one that smelled strongly of Dean's ecstasy.

"Oh, my god," Dean muttered into Castiel's mating mark. "Wow, Cas. Just...wow." He pulled back hastily all of a sudden, a little anxious. "Sorry. Sorry. Guess I can't be that rough with you anymore, huh?"

"You aren't going to hurt me with a hug, Dean," Castiel assured. "Or the pup." He looked down at his stomach, still flat for now under his clean white button down. "I'm relieved I was finally able to conceive. My fertility's been confirmed at every checkup, but I have had a few unprotected heats without results. I was beginning to worry."

"Hey." Dean cupped Castiel's chin in one rough, thick-fingered hand, making eye contact. "C'mon, man, we've talked about this. You're an awesome accountant, you're my best friend, you're somethin' else in the sack. Way more to you than just having pups." Dean paused. "Gotta say, though, I'm...real happy about this."

"Me, too." Castiel wasn't always the best at reading nonverbal cues, but now seemed like a good time to lean in for a kiss. With how long it took Dean to break it, he must've made the right choice.

"I'm takin' you out to dinner," Dean announced once they were separate again. "We're celebrating." He scrambled off the couch and reached for his phone. "But first, I'm gonna call Sam."

"What about your parents?"

"They can wait." Dean waved a dismissive hand at Castiel as he dialed Sam's number, and soon Castiel was listening to one side of Dean's animated conversation with his brother. He was laughing, so clearly excited and deliriously happy, and Sam was the first person he'd chosen to share it all with. Castiel was a little jealous.

Not in the conventional sense. Relationships weren't exactly uncommon between siblings as close as the Winchesters were (and might even be encouraged in some families, for experience, protection of young omegas, and inheritance purposes), but Sam was every bit as alpha as Dean. Castiel, though, had been estranged from most of his family since he'd presented, and had only recently gotten back in touch. He hoped he could someday have with his brothers and sisters even one-tenth of what Dean had with Sam.

"What did he have to say?" Castiel asked once Dean was off the phone.

"Oh, he's thrilled," Dean replied enthusiastically. "Gonna be an uncle, y'know. You wanna get your coat back on? We can go."

They went to their favorite diner for burgers. The best-loved meal for both of them, something they'd bonded over at the beginning. Dean somehow talked Castiel into getting his own usual order, a double cheeseburger with extra fries, because he was "eating for two."

"You do realize the pup is roughly the size of a kidney bean right now, I hope," Castiel said dryly once their waitress had left. Dean just grinned, showing off the larger-than-average eyeteeth that marked him as an alpha.

"You told anybody at work yet?" he asked after a second, and Castiel chuckled, but just barely.

"I've put up with enough just for being an omega in this line of work," he replied, playing with the straw in his Sprite. "A mated one, especially. I'd rather keep this quiet for as long as possible." He smirked at Dean. "And I wasn't going to tell anyone before you."

They chatted about a few more topics during dinner. How Sam was doing in law school, things going on at Dean's work, their apartment. It was spacious, in a new building, in a nice part of town. More than enough room for a pup, so they agreed they didn't need to move. Castiel was relieved. Moving while pregnant sounded like a nightmare.

It was more than he usually ate, but he did manage to finish what he'd ordered. Barely. When their waitress returned for their plates, Dean asked for a slice of pie for both of them, and Castiel frowned at him.

"I hope you remember I don't have your metabolism," he stated.

"Well, you're..." Dean patted his stomach, then went ahead and said, "with child. You're supposed to gain weight." He winked at Castiel. "Don't worry. You know how everybody loves an omega with curves. I'm not runnin' out on you."

Castiel snorted, and would have responded, but their waitress returned then. And she set two slices of pie in front of him, each topped with a healthy dollop of ice cream. He looked up at her, bewildered, and she smiled.

"Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing," she said, a little apologetically. "Congratulations! Your meal's on the house tonight." She gave Castiel another smile as she left. "And your mate's right, you're eating for two."

"Thank you," Castiel called after her, remembering his manners a few seconds too late. He eyed the pie, then took an experimental bite of one slice. Mixed berry. It was good, he had to admit. But he'd no sooner swallowed than the nausea that'd been plaguing him for a few weeks now reared its head again, and he shoved both plates across the table, where Dean was already tucking a large tip under his.

"I can't," Castiel apologized. "I'll be sick."

"Well, can't have that." Dean grabbed one of Castiel's plates, where the ice cream was rapidly melting on top of the pie, and took a bite. His eyes closed momentarily in pure pleasure. "More for me, then."

"You're going to eat all that?" Castiel asked dubiously. Dean was bigger than him, but not by that much, and they'd had exactly the same thing for dinner.

"Why not?" Dean took another bite. "It's pie, Cas. I can't just let it go to waste."

Castiel shook his head, but didn't say anything else. It wasn't like Dean's appetite, especially for pie, was a surprise to him at this point, and he couldn't keep a slight smile off his mouth, watching Dean attack all three slices with such gusto.

He actually finished every single one of them. None went to waste. But they left him huffing and groaning on the other side of the table, belt undone, jeans unbuttoned, and fly unzipped. Castiel had heard him take care of each one. He rolled his eyes as he made sure the tip Dean had left was generous enough to cover the waitress's kindness, but was sure his scent belied the affection he was feeling.

"I think I had better drive us home tonight," Castiel said, and not because of the beers Dean had had. He didn't reach for the keys until Dean grudgingly held them out to him.

In the car, Castiel kept glancing at Dean's belly. There was something pleasing about the shape of it, as there often was when Dean was stuffed to full capacity. Castiel chalked it up to evolutionary satisfaction at his alpha being well-fed, even if he hadn't made the meal himself, as he counted freckles. They covered every inch of Dean's bare skin in wide-flung constellations, and some of it was currently exposed, the last light in the sky picking them easily out. Castiel resisted the urge to reach over and pat his mate's inflated stomach.

"Eating for two doesn't apply to the father, actually," Castiel said. His tone was passive, but Dean would know he was teasing.

"Shut up." Dean burped, rubbing his belly with one hand. "In a few months, you're gonna look just like this."

Month Two

"I'm sure I don't have to talk to you about the importance of proper nutrition," Dr. Barnes was saying patiently, on her stool in front of Castiel. "What did you have for breakfast?"

"Oatmeal," Castiel replied. "I would have had doughnuts. My mate brought a box home yesterday. But..." He glanced at Dean in the corner, who stared stonily back, arms folded over his chest. "He wound up eating the whole thing himself."

Dr. Barnes laughed.

"I didn't mean to," Dean complained as Castiel eyed his conspicuously-bloated stomach, which he knew held a baker's dozen of pastries.

He wasn't wearing a belt. That was unusual for him.

"Oatmeal's probably a little healthier than doughnuts, anyway," Dr. Barnes told Castiel with a smile. "Though you could use the calories." She brought her hands together in a brisk clap. "Now. Shall we take a look at your puppy?"

"I would like that very much, yes."

Having Castiel lay back and lift the gown he was wearing over his boxer shorts, Dr. Barnes reclined the exam table and rolled the ultrasound machine over. As she squeezed cold gel onto Castiel's belly after an apology, she invited Dean, "Dad, wanna scoot your chair over here?" Dean seemed only too happy to comply.

"Now, we think you're only at seven or eight weeks, so we won't be able to see much," Dr. Barnes explained while she switched everything on. "But we'll still definitely be able to tell you've got a pup in there." She indicated his stomach with her ultrasound wand, then touched it to his skin.

Castiel watched the wand move in the gel on his belly. It was starting to round out and puff up as the pup grew, but he was almost certain Dean's was bigger right now, even hours after the doughnuts. He was lucky their appointment had been late in the morning, otherwise he might not have been able to drag himself off the couch in time.

Castiel's eyes snapped straight to the monochrome fuzz on the screen when Dr. Barnes announced, "Here he is!" Castiel hadn't even identified which of the lopsided blobs was his pup when she let out a surprised, "Oh."

"'Oh'?" Dean leaned forward in his chair, aggression born of anxiety tinging his scent. Castiel put a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down. They did not need him biting their OB-GYN, though from the look Dr. Barnes (a beta, but probably used to dealing with overprotective alphas) was giving him, he wouldn't get much of a chance to try.

"There's another fetus," the doctor explained. She pointed to two separate blobs on the monitor that, slowly, resolved themselves into shapes familiar from books and the internet. "You're going to have twins. Fraternal, looks like."

"Twins?" Dean seemed stunned, like someone had just set off a firecracker in his face. Castiel watched him somewhat anxiously. To him, twins were good news. They could definitely afford two pups. Dean, though, might have only wanted the one, which was understandable.

Then he took Castiel's hand, still on his shoulder, in his own, squeezing, and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, almost like he was holding back tears. Then sheer delight washed through his scent, so strong Dr. Barnes might even have been able to smell it. Castiel relaxed, smiling softly.

"Are they male or female?" he asked Dr. Barnes, but she shook her head.

"It's a bit too early to make out their primary genders," she told him. "What I can tell you, though, is that they both look perfectly healthy, and like they're developing right on track."

Castiel's eyes were locked on the screen for upwards of twenty minutes as Dr. Barnes slowly moved the wand to show them different angles of their pups. He was barely aware of Dean next to him, also staring, still holding his hand. Things Castiel had never expected to feel, had told himself he couldn't, even, germinated slowly inside him. He was startled when Dean cleared his throat and broke the silence.

"So, is there anything different we should expect? With twins?" he asked Dr. Barnes, voice just a little rough.

"We refer to any pregnancy with more than one pup as a partial litter." Dr. Barnes switched the monitor off and began to put the equipment away. Castiel swallowed his disappointment as Dean gave his hand another squeeze, probably able to smell it. It wasn't like they could sit here and watch their pups all day. "Unless, of course, it's a full litter, but those aren't extremely common.

"You shouldn't have any complications. Even if you weren't made to carry multiples, you're fairly good-sized already for an omega," the doctor continued as she wiped gel off Castiel's stomach, and he nodded. He was almost six feet tall, which was much more rare than a full litter occurring naturally. "You'll want to shower to get that the rest of the way off. Anyway, you should still expect to gain a considerable amount of weight, since you'll be carrying and nursing twins."

"Is there a special diet plan I should be following, then?" Castiel asked as he sat up.

"I'll give you some information to look at, but it shouldn't be hard to gain what you need," Dr. Barnes predicted. "Omegas naturally have slower metabolisms, and you're in full pregnancy mode. Just listen to your body. It'll tell you what you need."

"Meatloaf," Castiel said instantly. He hadn't had to listen for more than a second. "Baked potatoes. Uh, garlic bread..."

Dr. Barnes smiled. "Protein and carbs. That's a great start." She wheeled away from Castiel on her stool, turning to grab her prescription pad off the counter. "You can go ahead and get dressed, everything looks awesome. I'm just gonna write you a scrip for some prenatal vitamins; they're a little higher quality than the over-the-counter stuff you said you've been taking."

"Thank you, Pamela." Castiel pulled his slacks and sweater back on, Dean echoing his gratitude as he helped him off the table. On their way out of the room, Dr. Barnes called out to Castiel.

"What you said about the doughnuts made me think: keep an eye on your mate, too." She winked at Dean. "We see a lot of first-time dads putting on quite a bit of sympathy weight. Even alphas."

Dean laughed a little at that. "Yeah, thanks, but I think I'm good. Never had a problem with my weight, not gonna start now."

Outside the clinic, Dean startled Castiel some when he let out a loud whoop and threw his hands up, clapping both onto his head.

"Are you all right?" Castiel asked, concerned.

"Of course I am! Man, twins!" Dean was grinning from ear to ear. Castiel probably shouldn't have been worried. "I can't wait to call Sam!" He paused, then, in a much more careful tone, added, "You oughta let your family know, too."

Castiel smiled. He wasn't used yet to being on good terms with his family, and honestly, things were still tense. They'd be happy about this, though.

"So, you wanna pick up your vitamins and grab lunch?" Dean asked as the two of them approached the car. "If you're still cravin' meatloaf and potatoes, Biggerson's has got some sweet lunch specials."

"Are you sure you want to go there?" Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. "Their portions tend to be rather large. And you heard what Pamela said."

Teasingly, he poked Dean in the belly. His finger sank in some. More than he'd been expecting it to.

Dean snorted, brushing Castiel's hand away. "Whatever. Don't you start on me." He pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed them up in the air, catching them easily. "Even if I somehow do wind up getting fat, though..." He turned to Castiel with a grin. "I'm gonna look downright tiny next to you. Pregnant with twins."

Before Castiel realized what was happening, Dean had reached for him and gotten a hold of him, going straight for his ticklish ribcage. Castiel yelped with shocked laughter, trying to twist away (although not very hard). Then they were at the car and his back was against the cool black metal as Dean kissed him, deep, in broad daylight in the parking lot. His incisors pushed into Castiel's lower lip.

There was a certain give to his round belly where it was pressed against Castiel, and that, combined with the kiss, brought Castiel's cock up and moistened his hole. An itch that, regretfully, he probably wouldn't be able to scratch until they got home began to burn between his hips, and he grabbed Dean's, fingers sinking in again, just a bit. That had Castiel practically dripping into his boxers.

He assumed it had to do with the pregnancy hormones.

Month Five

"So how's it feel to officially be on maternity leave?" Dean asked, back to Castiel as he worked at the stove. Castiel sighed.

"Honestly, I would have preferred to work right up to my due date, like Janet did," he told Dean. "But she's a beta. And the laws are very strict. I heard my boss wanted me to leave far before now, even though I know I'm one of his best workers."

"He say anything to you about it?" Dean asked, a thread of protectiveness spiking his scent. Otherwise, he smelled good, happy and relaxed. The pasta sauce he was cooking smelled delicious, too.

"No," Castiel said, then admitted, "He might have. We both know I'm not exactly what you'd call 'perceptive.'"

Dean made a sound Castiel suspected was a laugh meant to be disguised as a sneeze. He shouldn't have bothered, Castiel wouldn't have been offended. He'd liked Dean referring to him as his "space cadet" while they were courting.

"I'm worried about getting my job back after the pups are born," Castiel went on. "Not right away, obviously, but eventually. You said Sam could help me with that?"

"Yeah." Dean crouched, with a groan and a loud popping of his knees, to check the bread he had in the oven. Castiel shamelessly enjoyed the view. "He hasn't taken the bar yet, but he's got a head for this kinda thing. There's a reason he's in law school."

It would have been a prime opportunity for a sarcastic remark, but sarcasm had never exactly been Castiel's strong suit. He examined the table instead, the handful of haphazardly-scattered rose petals, the half-melted candle ("Campfire" scented), the silver inherited from Dean's mother, which probably could have been better cared for. Castiel was not a materialistic sort of omega. He would've appreciated the effort more than the substance even if everything had been impeccable.

"You didn't have to do this," Castiel told Dean. He'd been helped out of his coat and told to sit down as soon as he walked in the door. "My coworkers threw me a party already."

"And that was real nice of 'em, but I wanted to do this." Out of the two of them, Dean was definitely the better cook, so he made dinner more often than Castiel did. He rarely went all out like this, though. "Romantic dinner and a bath. Since we haven't had a date in a while."

They hadn't necessarily "dated" in a traditional sense even before their mating. It had been more Castiel showing up unannounced because he suddenly felt like spending time with Dean, and Dean humoring him. Castiel didn't point that out, though. Already knowing the answer, he asked, "Can I do anything to help?"

"You keep your ass in that chair," Dean said seriously, so Castiel sat back and resigned himself to watching him bustle around the kitchen, reminded of his pregnancy-heightened libido by the way his eyes were drawn automatically to Dean's rear.

Castiel knew he himself was bigger. His hips had spread, exactly the way his mother had predicted when he'd phoned her about the twins, and of course his belly was large and round with the double life growing inside, navel stretched flat and threatening to invert. He felt enormous, as if he couldn't fit in chairs or through doorways, even though he easily could. Granted, his recently-bought maternity clothes were rapidly becoming too small.

Dean's jeans were tight, as well. That wasn't necessarily anything special, seeing as he had had a great ass as long as Castiel had known him (all that squatting at work wrought miracles, it would appear), but these jeans were brand-new, and in a bigger size than he usually wore. Castiel had found the receipts wadded up in their shared sock drawer, but hadn't brought them up.

"Okay!" Dean strained the pasta and brought two steaming bowls to the table after turning off all the burners. "Dinner is served."

"It looks delicious, Dean." And it was. Shell pasta in a heavy, meaty sauce, buttery garlic bread, dressed greens Castiel suspected Dean had only grudgingly included. Dessert was a lovingly homemade cherry pie.

There were no leftovers, despite the generous portions Dean had cooked. Castiel was full and a bit sleepy as he watched Dean clear the table, grunting when he got to his feet and panting some as he walked.

"Don't worry about the dishes, I'll do 'em in the morning before I go to work," Dean said once he was done. He burped, not quite covering his mouth in time to stifle it, and Castiel smiled. "Ready to get in the tub, angel?"

Most houses, apartments, and even motel rooms had bathtubs large enough to comfortably accommodate an alpha and an omega. It was even code in some areas, because of the importance of grooming for mated pairs. Dean and Castiel's place was no exception. Castiel undressed in the bedroom, encountering only minimal difficulty, while Dean filled the tub. When he went in, the lights were off and Dean was already in the water.

Castiel slipped in, letting the water buoy him as the heat soothed aches he hadn't even fully realized he'd been carrying. He groaned softly in simple pleasure and rested his head against the porcelain, closing his eyes. He stayed like that, sitting across from Dean in the sunken oval of their tub, for a few minutes while the last of the water thundered in.

When the flow cut off, punctuated by the squeak of Dean turning the knobs, Castiel opened his eyes and drifted slowly over to the alpha. He'd barely reached for Dean's form, dim in the darkness and blurred by the water, when Dean took hold of his wrists. Not hard. Never hard. But the message was clear.

"Hold up," Dean muttered. The humidity made his scent, nervous and embarrassed, more clear.

"What is it?" Castiel wanted to know. "If you've hurt yourself at work again, Dean, I'm not going to be angry, but you need to let me see it." He'd worked as an EMT during college. He'd been told his bedside manner was severely lacking, but he had a gift for the strictly medical side of things. Dean liked to brag Castiel could practically heal the bruises and bumps he got at the garage with a touch.

"It ain't that."

"Is the rash back, then?" Castiel had been fascinated by the rash. Dean had not.

"No!" Dean snapped. "And Christ, Cas, I really wish you'd forget about that."

"I'm sorry." Castiel kissed him, tasting steam and cherry pie on Dean's plump lips. After a moment, Dean let him touch him, relaxing against Castiel's hands. Castiel knew they were soft, the only calluses coming from where he held a pencil and the nails neatly trimmed. Not at all like Dean's.

Dean's pecs were shapely as always, speaking of long, hard hours put in on a weight rack and under cars. His neck and biceps were planed and rounded with lean, healthy muscle. Castiel felt one of his few scars, underneath the strong line of his jaw, the result of a teenage car accident that had panicked Dean and enraged his father.

Dean had eaten more than Castiel, and his stomach was appropriately swollen. Castiel brushed out the shape of it with his hands under the water. Dean burped as he was touching, and Castiel moved in closer, pregnant belly bumping into Dean's stuffed one. Slight surprise burst through Dean's scent.

"Did I just...was that a kick?" he asked.

"It wouldn't surprise me; they've been practicing some sort of martial art on each other all day," Castiel mumbled back.

"You dick," Dean accused. "When did they start kicking? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Castiel repeated, kiss and all. "It must have slipped my mind. I've had other things to focus on." Dean relented, let Castiel's hands roam over him.

He felt hefty love handles, thighs grown much meatier, and a behind every bit as full and plump as Dean's lips, scaled up. Castiel kept one hand on his mate and put the other on himself, kissing Dean frequently as he tried to ascertain which parts of his body were bigger or softer than Castiel's own. He suspected Dean was triumphant in every category.

Especially his cock. He was only halfway hard when Castiel reached between his legs, much like Castiel himself had been since he'd very first touched Dean tonight, and he was massive even like that. Not to mention bulging at the base, knot already beginning to swell.

They probably should have washed in the bath, but a thorough shower in the morning was looking better and better to Castiel. Dean, too, apparently: he opened the drain while kissing Castiel just above the water, and it gurgled as the level began to fall. Then he helped him out of the tub.

Drying off was hurried, sloppy. Castiel was still damp when they left the bathroom, water droplets actually standing on his skin in some places, and the towels wound up in a messy pile on the floor. He couldn't have cared less, though. He was fully erect now, precome beading on his tip, and his entrance was so wet he felt like he was dripping the whole way into the bedroom. He couldn't remember the last time he was so aroused outside of a heat.

Castiel climbed onto their bed, Dean steadying him, on all fours with his gravid belly hanging down. He'd barely gotten situated before Dean entered him with a groan, and Castiel gasped sharply, a full-body shudder of pleasure rolling through him. He was so slick, so ready for Dean's rod, that it only took one thrust for Dean to bottom out in him despite his size. Quite a change from their very first time coupling. Castiel was literally built to take gigantic alpha cocks, and it'd been over an hour before Dean was able to enter him fully without hurting either of them.

Dr. Barnes had told them early on that sex during pregnancy, as long as it wasn't insanely rough, wouldn't harm the pups. It was a good thing. Castiel knew he wouldn't have been able to stand nine months without Dean's member deep in his insides.

Dean was standing behind Castiel, hands on his hips, thrusting up into him using only a fraction of the strength Castiel knew he was capable of. Castiel panted, already hot from the bath, sweat beading on his skin in the dark. Dean's belly brushed against the small of Castiel's back, then slapped as he began to pick up speed. Each impact drew a grunt of what Castiel could smell was pleasure out of him. It was odd, but the entire thing was one of the hottest Castiel had ever experienced, with Dean or anyone else. Between that and the pressure Dean's girth was putting on his prostate, Castiel was close within a matter of minutes. When Dean leaned over him to mouth his mating mark, galaxies of earth-shaking pleasure exploding through Castiel's entire being from the shattered nerves and Dean's stomach squished against him, Castiel spilled his seed on the bedspread.

He felt a bit guilty. He was usually able to last longer. The strength of the orgasm, though, powerful enough to leave his face numb and his legs shaking, kept him from feeling too bad. And a moment later, Dean finished, pumping Castiel full of come that was currently wasted on him. Then he knotted him. The seating of it, huge and hot and throbbing, just inside Castiel's channel wrung the customary second climax from him. Wetness gushed out of him around Dean, and coming again so soon after the first time blurred the line between pleasure and pain. Castiel howled in agonized ecstasy, Dean snarling right along with him.

They were exhausted afterwards, as always. Arm wrapped around his chest, Dean pulled Castiel up the bed, avoiding the wet spots he'd left on the comforter. Castiel yawned as Dean laid them on their sides, curling protectively around him.

"I'll clean up soon as I go down," Dean muttered into Castiel's hair which, after a bath and sex, he was sure was even messier than usual. "And do the baby oil rub on your stomach." He patted Castiel's belly. "Can't feel 'em kicking anymore..."

"They're probably asleep. They're happy to be here with you," Castiel murmured. He felt safe, and the softness at his back was more than welcome. "Just like me."

Month Seven

"Just what in the hell did you do to your hair?" Handing Castiel a cup of lemon ginger tea (homemade; she'd declared that she, at least, would not serve him any prepackaged foods while he was pregnant or nursing), Meg dropped down next to him on the couch. "You look like you rolled straight outta bed and didn't even touch it."

Castiel sniffed the tea, then gave her a puzzled look. "Are you not supposed do that?"

Meg snorted. "Your Asperger's is showing, Clarence."

"I've never understood why you call me that." Castiel took a sip of tea. It was good. A bit strong on the ginger, maybe. If nothing else, it at least helped with the bit of sourness he'd been feeling in his stomach since this morning. "It's a very nice shower you've put together, Meg, I have to say."

"Are you serious?" she demanded. "I thought you hated all this girly crap."

"Oh, I do." Castiel looked around at the pink and blue balloons, the streamers, the flowers and the little games Meg had set up everywhere. She had quite clearly gone out of her way to try and irritate him, and he was delighted. "In this context, though, it's...somewhat enjoyable."

"You have got to be kidding me," Meg stated flatly, smelling quite disappointed. "Remember in high school? How you'd just stare blankly at anyone who even so much as mentioned pregnancy? Or mating?"

"Yes, well." Castiel smoothed a hand down his belly, the shape put on full display by his sweater. "That was before I met Dean."

"My offer from when he started courting you still stands."

"Blink three times if I'm being held against my will and you'll get me out. I recall." Castiel took another drink of tea. "No thank you, Meg. I'm quite happy. But I'm very sorry you're so jealous."

As Meg scoffed, Castiel nursed his tea and turned his attention to the game being held currently in his living room. Guess the baby food. His cousin Gabriel appeared to be winning which, given he was a professional patissier, was hardly surprising.

Meg had invited only those members of Castiel's family he was on the best of terms with, which meant only three Shurleys had attended the party. His mother was no doubt leaving irate voicemails even now, but Castiel was having such a good time currently - despite the nausea - that he didn't care.

"Hey, angel. How're you feelin'?" Broken out of his thoughts, Castiel looked at Dean as he sat down on his other side. He had a full paper plate from the snack table in his hands. He'd been grazing from it for the entire shower, and it showed: his shirt (new) was riding up, helped along by the bloat of his stomach, and giving Castiel an intriguing eyeful of creaming, freckled flesh.

"Better than I was. This is helping." Castiel lifted the mug of tea to indicate it.

"Sucks ass you're sick at your own party." After a sympathetic nuzzle, Dean popped a potato chip into his mouth, then looked guiltily at Castiel and hid the plate from his sight. Behind his belly, which was more than big enough to suffice as a block. "Sorry. This bothering you?"

"Yeah, scram," Meg said, but Castiel spoke over her: "No. It isn't true morning sickness, like I had back at the beginning. I think it's just heartburn." He nodded to the plate as he sipped his tea. "That's fine. And it's our party."

Dean brought the plate back out, began eating again as he watched the game. Gabriel was definitely winning. Castiel would have asked Dean why he wasn't playing, but he knew Dean was only here to spend time with him and see friends and family, not to indulge in the frilly societal trappings surrounding pregnancy.

"Any sign of Sam yet?" Dean asked, making short work of his plate of snacks. "You did invite him, right?" He looked accusingly at Meg.

"Of course I did!" she retorted. "I like him better than you. Just be patient for once, California's a long ways away."

Dean glared until Castiel touched his arm, then looked away. "I'm gonna go get more snacks," he muttered, heaving himself up off the couch with a grunt.

"Yeah, you do that, tubby." Meg smirked at the murderous look Dean shot her, then noticed Castiel slowly shaking his head. "What?"

"You could be more pleasant to each other," he pointed out.

"Well, look at him." Meg gestured to Dean. "You've hardly gained any weight at all."

"Mm..." Castiel touched his belly again. He'd had five different guests (including Dean's mother) tell him, as soon as they walked in the door, that he already looked full-term.

"Yeah, but most of that is just the pups, and the amniotic fluid and stuff." Meg looked at Dean again, and Castiel followed her gaze, to where Dean was stuffing a cupcake into his mouth at the snack table. Many, many parts of him were looking decidedly...round. His jeans were unbuttoned, Castiel noted. And he hadn't bothered with a belt in months. "Can't really say the same thing for your mate."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked mildly.

"I mean, he maybe looks like he's - " Meg began, but then abruptly cut herself off. She was a beta, so Castiel's scent couldn't have tipped her off; it must have been his smile. "Oh my god. You like it, don't you?" She laughed incredulously. "You kinky son of a bitch!"

"Accurate as that may be, let's leave my mother out of this." Castiel finished his tea. "Is it wrong for me to want my alpha to be as big and strong as possible, to protect me and my pups?"

"Well, I'm with you on big. He looks like he's pregnant...with triplets." Meg paused. "What's he think about all this sympathy weight?"

"Has Dean ever cared about anything like that?" Dean might be a little bothered, but obviously not enough to take action.

"Even if he doesn't, can't deny I'm enjoying Mr. God's Gift to Omegas porking up like that. He's getting really fat." Meg took Castiel's empty mug and stood up, then stared down at him. "Hope you realize how damn lucky you are, Clarence."

Castiel smiled. "Oh, believe me, I definitely do."

The doorbell rang then, and Meg dropped the mug off in the kitchen before rushing to answer it. It was Sam; Castiel watched Meg lead him in, tall, tanned, and with a glorious chestnut mane, straight to his brother. They embraced immediately, grinning...and then Sam commented on Dean's obvious weight gain. There was a lot of chatter in the room, but Castiel made out something about how all those bacon cheeseburgers, beers, and pies must be finally catching up.

Dean rolled his malachite eyes, batted Sam's hands off his growing gut when he went to touch it. He soon relented, though, letting Sam feel and squish and rub as he himself shoveled handfuls of pretzels and dip into his mouth.

Castiel had never thought of himself as particularly deviant, despite what Meg had just said, but there was something about watching Sam's large hands squeeze his mate's overfed belly as said mate continued to eat that had blood pumping straight to Castiel's hole and dick alike. He shifted on the couch, heartburn completely forgotten.

Luckily, distractions were soon offered. It was time to open presents, which yielded a lot of things they needed, like diapers and a double stroller. Then there were the numerous well-wishes and pieces of advice from guests, including a couple of earnest, heartfelt conversations with Sam and Gabriel, who wanted to tell Castiel how happy both he and Dean looked. And then Meg announced the gender reveal.

"You got the results from Pamela?" Castiel asked Meg as she placed the two cakes on the table and everyone crowded into the kitchen.

"Yeah, and I dropped the envelope off at the bakery without peeking, so it's a surprise to me, too." Meg eyed Castiel. "I still don't get why you're doing this. It's stupid."

"Gabriel said it would be fun." Castiel looked at his cousin, who grinned, showing off alpha incisors, and waved from where he was standing next to Sam. The two of them had spent quite a bit of time together today, and Sam had been blushing practically since his first conversation with Gabriel. Gabriel was also on bad terms with much of their family...because he liked alphas. Perhaps Castiel would ask Dean about Sam's preferences later.

"That explains it." Meg cut into the first cake, white fondant, green sprinkles, a large purple A on top. She drew the slice back to show that it was blue. "So, looks like Pup A's a boy."

"Good luck," Dean's mother, Mary, joked as a cheer went up, Dean's father John laughing. Meg didn't join in on the cheer but, to Castiel, she smelled excited. So did Dean, standing next to him with his arm slung casually around Castiel's expanded waist. For his part, Castiel smiled so widely the corners of his mouth hurt. A boy. It didn't make too much of a difference as far as preparations went, but knowing, and sharing the finding out with everyone special to him and his mate...there was certainly something significant about that, something Castiel couldn't quite put his finger on.

The other cake, for Pup B, was pink inside, and as Meg finished dividing them both up, she commented, "So, one of each." She glanced at Castiel with a raised eyebrow. "You're naming the girl after me, right?"

Dean barked out a laugh. "Tell you what, Masters. If we get a dog, we'll name it after you."

Meg stabbed the cake nearly hard enough to break the board underneath, eyeing Dean. "Should've poisoned the bacon dip. Since your fat ass ate most of it."

"Meg," Castiel cut in. "Dean." He looked from one to the other. "Please."

Meg sighed loudly and made a dramatic show of serving cake. Dean pulled Castiel close and nuzzled his mating mark. A finger of electric sensation zinged down Castiel's spine, and his breath caught some on the back of his tongue.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled. "You okay?"

"Yes." Castiel turned to brush his lips along Dean's jaw, their stubble rasping together. "I'm wonderful." He could feel Dean's ample love handles, warm and giving, against his hip, along with a sizable section of his food-firm potbelly. He nudged him towards the table. "You should have a couple slices of cake."

Month Nine

Castiel had not known it was physically possible to be so tired and not only alive, but awake.

He'd thought he knew what exhaustion was in college. He was wrong.

It had been a week since the twins were born. Robert John and Mary Ellen. They were home from the hospital and all the friends and relatives had left, for the moment. It was early evening and, though Castiel hadn't been religious for years, he did believe they'd been granted a miracle: both pups were asleep at the same time for once.

The cribs were, for now, in their room. Castiel and Dean were sitting on their bed, watching the twins sleep, their tiny chests rising and falling in unison. Castiel, still sore, was seated on a pillow, Dean's arm draped heavily over his shoulders, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of alpha musk. Neither of them had had much time to shower lately.

Unexpectedly, Dean turned to kiss Castiel's temple. "I love you so much."

It was still rare, but he'd been saying it more often lately. Castiel cuddled into him, so big and soft; he estimated Dean had gained close to a hundred pounds, if not more, while Castiel had been pregnant, and it was no wonder, with the way he'd eaten. Castiel felt warm, and safe, and despite being postpartum and very aware of it, the tiniest bit aroused.

Castiel looked down at Dean's belly, at least as large as Castiel's had been right before his due date, and put a hand on it. Then, too tired to be inhibited, he wrapped both arms around it, snuggling into it like it was an enormous pillow. Dean seemed surprised at first, then chuckled, petting Castiel's hair.

"Hey, man, I know I really need to get in some cardio," he said softly. "Don't remind me."

"Instead of that..." Castiel turned his face so he could look at the twins, head still pillowed on Dean's stomach. "Maybe we should think about having another one."