(A/N: Rated M for mature language and content.
Thank you for the follows, favorites and reviews. This ended up super long... Sorry?
Enjoy. :))
Bobby grunts under his breath as he flips the postcard over. From the corner of his eye, he sees Sam sidle up behind him, the huge Beta quiet but no damn ninja, peeking over his shoulder to read the postcard as well. He shifts it a little so Sam can see it better.
"I guess there is such a thing as miracles," Sam muses aloud with an amused huff, reading the brief scribble on the back of the postcard that Dean sent. Obviously, Cas picked it out (and sent it, too) but he feels a little warm and squishy to know Dean wrote the short missive himself. Even if Cas, most likely, dictated it. It's nice Dean took a moment away from Cas to willingly do something he'd normally call 'girly'.
It's either emotional growth or sexual blackmail—either way, he's pleased and probably owes Cas a big 'thank you' for the thoughtful gesture.
Bobby nods. "Yup," he agrees aloud. He hadn't expected anything from the boys, really. Even before they managed to spawn, they had little attention for anything besides the other when they got into one of their moods. An impromptu honeymoon was something he figured would take up their entire attention, especially since they'd only get to spend 10 days there, instead of Dean's wish for 'for-freakin'-ever'.
He'd been pleased enough to get a shaky, cell-phone video of the boys' wedding vows, not even bothering to hide the fact he'd been wiping the moisture from his eyes long before the idjits said 'I do', shared sappy smiles and then proceeded to maul each other's faces with their mouths. He respected the boys' wishes to keep the ceremony private, unwilling to play favorites since Cas' pack had a snowball's chance of being invited, but he'd still shared an annoyed look with Sam when they caught the pair of witnesses they'd had present. It wasn't until the shy Asian boy had turned the camera on himself, waving awkwardly before the video cut out, that he even knew they'd had someone else there.
Bobby hands Sam the postcard and heads into the kitchen for a beer. "Says there they're comin' home next week and need a ride."
"Yeah," Sam says with a soft snort. He's pretty sure that's the main reason Dean wrote. Apparently, they decided a honeymoon paradise didn't include cell phones or laptops, so they had no other way of mooching a ride for their last-minute planned honeymoon since they forgot that little detail in their excitement. Which is fine, he's a bit of a sap for airport pickups, anyway. He has another 4 days with Dean's Impala before it was back in his brother's driveway full-time again.
Unsurprisingly, that's the second thing Dean asks about when he picks the newlyweds up a few days later. After Dean grabs him in a rib-crushing hug, both of them a bit choked up with the reunion and the realization Dean is officially a married man and a father-to-be. They pull away after a few good slaps to the back, both of them trying to subtly blink away the sting in their slightly wetter eyes.
Dean clears his throat and pops Sam on the shoulder with a loose fist. "How's it goin', Sam?" Sam just nods with a smile, still a bit choked up to speak. It has barely been two weeks since they'd last seen each other, but there'd been some major changes in that short time and he doesn't have the heart to make fun of his brother at the moment. "How's my Baby?"
Sam laughs outright, shaking his head. "'S fine, Dean," he says with an eye roll, knocking his fist into Dean's shoulder. Like he couldn't take care of a damn car. "She's waiting outside for you," he teases. Dean just grins and claps his hands together, rubbing them with expectant joy. The freak. Sam officially ignores his idiot brother and turns to his new brother-in-law. He's not at all surprised to see the Omega smiling warmly at Dean. Cas' wedding vows must've include finding moments when your new husband is a complete dork endearing, even if said spouse has an inappropriate relationship with motor vehicles.
"Hey, Cas," he says, moving cautiously towards the Omega but still leaning in for a hug. Cas' hug is restrained, especially compared to Dean's, but no less welcoming and warm. He knows, logically, he can't squish the pup with a hug but he's careful to keep his enthusiasm down. He can already see Dean is posturing a little, shoulder's stiff and back ramrod straight, eyes darting around the crowd and narrowing when someone gets a little too close to Cas for his liking. It's kinda weird to see Dean, normally a laid back kinda Alpha, do that sort of thing.
Even if he completely gets it. He's a little tense himself, the urge to bracket Cas and keep strangers away from the pregnant Omega are new and kind of out of left field. He figures getting them both out of the crowds, as soon as possible, is the best bet. He gets Dean's attention with a swat to the shoulder and cocks his head towards the baggage claim area. "Wanna wait for your bags while me'n Cas bring the car around?"
"Yeah," Dean says with a sharp nod, looking away to glare heatedly at some Alpha dick walking too close to Cas for his comfort. Idiot is staring at his iPhone and not where he's going. He steps into the guy's path before he can collide with Cas, pointedly ignoring Cas' eye roll, and nudges his Omega towards Sam. The 10 days completely alone without having to worry about strangers, large crowds, stray elbows, and grumpy assholes wrestling with wayward luggage wheels has kind of spoiled him and he's more than a little twitchy about the onslaught of strangers surrounding Cas.
He turns to Cas, easing his carry-on bag off his shoulder. He transfers it to his own shoulder and nearly crosses his fingers that Cas won't be a stubborn little shit on principle alone. "Wanna go with Sam? Get the car?" It's phrased as a question but he knows Cas can hear the underlying beg-slash-demand in there. He really needs Cas out of here before he does something stupid, like hit a bitch for looking at his Cas too long or punching some distracted guy fiddling with his boarding pass instead of watching where the fuck he's going.
Dean smothers the urge to growl, but only because the Beta now walking past, right between him and the asshole, is juggling two squirmy pups double-teaming her as they beg for Cinnabon while she tries to carry several bags. His fingers twitch with the urge to help her... but one thing at a time because getting his Cas out of this fuckin' mosh-pit of assholes is priority número uno.
"Alright," Castiel agrees easily. He can see the tense set to Dean's shoulders, the twitching fingers, the rhythmic clenching of his jaw as he wars with instincts and appropriate public behaviors. The very unsubtle way Sam is positioned, all 6 foot 4 inches of looming Beta, is thoughtful, but seems rather unnecessary. Of course, he knows arguing with either Winchester won't get him anywhere. Plus, there's a not-so-tiny part of him enjoying the looking-after, even if he doesn't really need it. He's pulled into a kiss, long enough for Dean's hand to stray to his lower belly but quick enough to be considered decent in a public place. Dean pulls back and winks at him obnoxiously, but it doesn't quite cover the expression of relief, though.
He feels Sam's hand on his elbow, just a light touch, and leaves Dean to handle the crowds at the baggage claim area, following after Sam.
Sam is quick to leave, checking to make sure Castiel is walking along side him every few seconds. He kind of wants to grab his elbow again, just in case someone tries to walk between them or something, but he knows it's excessive and Cas would probably laugh at him. They're outside and headed towards Short Term Parking moments later, both of the squinting as they exit the building and walk into the bright sunlight. He looks over when Cas sneezes and notices a hint of pink along his nose, cheeks and forehead. Huh. He honestly hadn't expected either of them to be out in the sun long enough to get any sort of color.
"Thank you for picking us up, Sam," Castiel says, rubbing at his nose briefly and using his other hand to shade his eyes. "I can't believe I'd neglected such an important detail."
Sam gins and waves a hand dismissively. "Not a problem, Cas. It's not like Dean would'a wanted to leave his car in the parking lot while you were gone, anyway."
Castiel nods his concession to that, knowing it's true. Still. "We could've taken a cab."
"Nah," Sam says, fishing the keys from his pocket and unlocking the passenger side door. "No need, really." He hurries around to the driver's side, nodding his thanks when Cas leans over and unlocks it for him. He slides in behind the wheel and starts the car. He clicks on the radio, volume low but audible, filling the comfortable silence as they wait for Dean to let them know he was ready.
He taps his fingers along his thigh, enjoying the music for a moment. "So. Not that I want the gory details, but did you guys have a nice trip?"
"Yes, thank you," Castiel says, chuckling softly. He glances at Sam from his peripheral, pleased to see a smile. He clears his throat, feeling a little guilty. He hasn't seen Sam, or anyone but his husband, since they'd hastily gotten married and slipped off for a honeymoon right from the courthouse. "I am sorry we didn't invite anyone for the wedding."
Sam shrugs, pushing his hair back. "It's cool. We get why you guys did it that way. I mean, it's not like I wouldn't have wanted to be there, you know? 'Cause we really did, and we would've. But I get why and it's cool. It's not like we were the only ones left out," he adds with a playful nudge and a teasing smile. He claps Cas on the shoulder when the Omega winces at the reminder. He's pretty much over the hurt and he hadn't really meant to rub salt in the wound. "Speaking of which—who'd you guys get to do the video?"
"Missus Tran and her son Kevin," Castiel says, smiling a little at the memory. They were both very nice; Mrs. Tran being a very no-nonsense but kind woman, Kevin shy but polite. He nor Dean had asked why they were at the courthouse, they were just pleased the Trans agreed to stand in as witnesses for the 10 minute ceremony with little cajoling or asking invasive questions. Mrs. Tran had insisted on getting their information so she could send them a wedding gift, though. And a baby gift once the older Beta had found out Castiel was expecting.
Sam just nods, interrupted from saying asking else when his phone pings with a message from Dean demanding he get him the hell outta there before he guts someone with Cas' nail clippers. He figures that's Dean's unsubtle way to letting him know he finally got their luggage from the baggage claim. He wiggles his phone at Cas and announces "Dean sounds ready to kill something. So much for a relaxing honeymoon," he says with an eye roll as he puts the car in gear and carefully backs out.
"It was a nice respite," Castiel says through a soft sigh, staring out the window.
They'd ended up in a log cabin in a rural retreat instead of somewhere warm, sandy and tropical. The perils of late planning, to be sure, but it had been just as lovely, in his opinion. He didn't see why it mattered where they went since he knew they would've spent most of their time in bed or just curled up around each other regardless of their location. By the second day, Dean had stopped lamenting (well, whining about) the fact they couldn't try doin' it in the sand ('but—but, sex on the beach, Cas!') and enjoyed the solitude of the secluded wooded backyard instead. He'd like to go again, should they get the chance.
"Oh geez," Sam mutters, pulling up the the curb. He's quick to get out and get the trunk open, standing back as Dean practically throws their luggage in. He eases it closed with his palm and prepared to hand over the keys, but Dean just shakes his head and stomps to the passenger side rear door, sliding in next to Castiel. Sam raises an eyebrow, wondering when Cas broke out the ninja moves to get in the backseat, but shrugs as he gets back in the car.
He can be a chauffeur for a little while longer. And he's very careful not to look in the rear-view mirror unless he absolutely has to. Mostly because he can hear snippets of Castiel's low voice, soothing his still agitated brother, see his hand move in ways that look suspiciously like petting, and Dean totally grooving on it and making less grumbly, growly noises and sounding moments away from going belly-up in Cas' lap. He figures Dean would appreciate him not looking just about as much as he doesn't want to see such disgustingly cute, sappy moments.
...❤...
Up until the moment Castiel catches sight of the slight, soft swell of his lower stomach, the concept of being pregnant—of impending parenthood—has pretty much been an abstract one. Like there has been some other reason for the occasional vomiting (not just in the morning as advertised, dammit), odd diet choices (not even Dean, his stoic, bottomless pit of an Alpha, can be in the same room as him and a bowl of ice cream, Vienna sausages and hot sauce) and random emotional outbursts.
Well, the random emotional outbursts tend to be more... precarious balances of anger, sobbing and clingy neediness that come at odd times. But it's not a constant thing. Regardless of what Dean might claim. It's irritating at best because none of those are normal states for him but he's handling it better, or his hormones are evening out. He's able to maintain a reasonably rational mood most days and feel like his 'old' self instead of feeling like he'd been hijacked by someone else—with rather severe emotional instability issues.
Even though there's all that, he's still left awed. Stunned stupid. His gaze riveted on the mirror, stuck on the slight rounding of his lower stomach. He'd been pulling on a pair of underwear moments ago and he'd paused, elastic band just shy of his pubic bone, when he noticed. Now, he's just standing there—staring. Occasionally his fingers twitch and he's nearly touching, wanting to see if he can feel a difference as well as see it. He doesn't, though. Not yet. He's content to just merely look, turning this way and that just enough to see the way his belly pooches out just so.
Dean finds him like this and he idly wonders how long he's been just standing there, looking. Is it really late enough for Dean to be home or is his Alpha early? Dean has been making a habit of coming home earlier these days. He doesn't mind the intrusion, but he's a little embarrassed to realize he's been doing little else but stand around for awhile. He had every intention of dinner being ready by 6. He knows Dean won't complain (his Alpha would most likely just use it as an excuse for dinner out, maybe claim it's a date-night thing), but it's just one of those things he feels like he needs to do. Nesting Omega thing or something.
"Cas?"
Castiel doesn't turn around, but he makes a sound of acknowledgment that he's heard his Alpha. He doesn't even move his gaze from the reflection of the tiny rounded swell of his pup—their pup—growing in his body. "Dean," he manages to croak after a few silent moments. His Alpha is across the room and pressed against his back, warm and protective, seconds later. He must've sounded scared or freaked out because Dean's large, warm hands are in now-familiar soothing spots; one wrapped around the side of his neck, thumb caressing along his hairline, and the other rubbing gently along his hip. A quiet, concerned "Cas?" is murmured against his neck, Dean's warm breath fanning across his skin as scents him.
Castiel finally manages to tear his gaze away from his stomach and up to meet Dean's in the mirror. He smiles as he looks into warm green eyes that meet his, even if there's still concern, he's warmed and feeling nearly giddy at the love he can also see. He can feel Dean relaxing now that his Alpha knows he's not stressed or upset and he gently grabs the hand from his hip, twines their fingers together and slides them over until they're holding hands over his stomach. He presses Dean's palm flat.
"Check it out," he says, his voice an excited whisper.
Dean, reluctantly, looks away from Cas' eyes, using the mirror to look down Cas' body to where his Omega is indicating. It doesn't take him long to get what Cas is showing him. His eyes widen and he feels a heated rush of excitement flash through his entire body making his skin tighten and tingle everywhere. He thought he noticed Cas looked a little... bigger earlier that morning. But a very real and emotional attachment to his dick kept him from mentioning it out loud. Cas isn't normally sensitive about his looks or anything but he never really knows what's going to set off his Omega these days and he really hadn't wanted to risk it.
But now that Cas has noticed, shared it with him, he figures it's safe to stare and look his fill. So he does, shamelessly looking at the reflection as his hands touch and stroke gently. He presses even closer, his body practically glued to Cas'. The sight of his pregnant mate is surprisingly arousing as hell. He's been half-hard all day just thinking about the possibility...
As much as Dean relishes in the fact he's mated and expecting a pup, he's not exactly been thrilled with the entire process, but this—this right here makes it all worth it.
He can really go the rest of his life and never have to see, hear, smell his Omega crying again. He can't stand it. He's quick to offer comfort, of course, and most times Cas just curls up against him and accepts it. Even so, he doesn't like see the blue eyes he adores all red and watery, regardless of the cause. One sniffle and seeing the waterworks start up is sometimes enough to get his eyes prickling and stinging in sympathy; has been since that first damn time. Cas seems just as annoyed with the whole thing, so that doesn't help matters when his Omega gets pissed off after a crying fit.
If he never again saw the way his sweet Omega could go warm and adoring one minute to glaring at him, eyes icy and deadly, he'd die a happy Alpha. Thankfully, that doesn't happen often and he knows it's just a hormone thing. Not that it helps when Cas is holding something sharp and glaring at his crotch as if his knot has personally offended him. (Which, OK, Cas might've been feeling crampy or something that one time because he did mention something about 'stupid knots and stupid Alpha jizz putting crampy pups in him'. Or something... It was hard to tell for sure since he'd been focused on making a strategic retreat and Cas had been facing away from him while muttering between clenched teeth and chopping carrots with extra zeal.)
The absolute worst? That would be the completely going against that ingrained Alpha 'biological urge' of not wanting to pup Cas ever again. Even if his stupid inner swaggering Alpha wants to keep Cas' belly fat and full, he doesn't think he'll survive this ordeal more than once. He's never underestimated the strength of his Omega (he's been pinned under Cas enough times to know better), but he's pretty sure the pregnancy hormones are helping his normally even-tempered Omega turn into a freakin' Hulk.
So, yeah; right now his stupid Alpha brain has conveniently forgotten all of that and is swimming in happy-pup thoughts, preening and posturing as he looks and feels the evidence of their pup in his awesome Omega. He splays his fingers out over the tiny swell of Cas' belly and sighs softly, eyes closing as he places a gentle kiss on Cas' neck.
"Awesome," Dean finally manages to say when he's successfully swallowed past the lump in his throat. He pulls back just enough to nuzzle the skin there, scenting and kissing. He can't seem to help himself and Cas isn't complaining, just pressing closer and making soft happy sounds.
"Yes," Castiel agrees, voice soft, his fingertips gently stroking over the back of Dean's hand. He's adapting to the changes of pregnancy and he's trying not to remember it's only going to get worse. He's only going to get bigger, crankier. He looks up at Dean again, eyes narrowed a little as he takes in his Alpha's reflection. There's nothing but pure adoration on Dean's face and it's... It's amazing. Calms something in him to know Dean can roll with it.
Dean rubs his hand gently over Cas' belly. "I don't feel anything," he says after a few moments, frowning a little. He's tempted to increase the pressure of his hand, press in and hope he's just not trying hard enough. He glances up when Cas laughs, a happy sound that makes his face light up and his eyes crinkle. Dean has the feeling he's said something stupid, but he's just too happy seeing Cas smile like that right now to really care he's probably being made fun of.
"Nothing to feel yet, Dean," Castiel says, trying not to laugh at Dean's pout. He turns his head enough to give Dean's jaw a quick nuzzle. "I don't even feel anything." Dean looks at him, eyebrows raised questioningly and he nods. "I think it'll be a few weeks yet before the pup's big enough to feel."
"Oh," Dean says, trying not sound disappointed. Or to pout. He hasn't gotten far enough in any of the pup books to really know much of anything about this part. He needs to fix that, pronto. He has a feeling time is going to be merciless and just freakin' fly by and he doesn't want to be caught out again, not if he can help it.
He turns Cas around, needing to see his Omega in person. A reflection is nice, but just not the same. Cas goes willingly, turning smooth and easy in his arms, smiling up at him again. He touches Cas' stomach again, brushing his fingers down the slightly rounded, softer area. He's kind of surprised he doesn't miss the subtle muscle definition Cas had only weeks ago. He licks his lips, feeling a flush of heat and want as he stares. It's probably some biological thing to find Cas sexy as fuck right now, but he's pretty sure he'll always pop a knot just thinking about his Omega, pregnant or not.
Dean gently strokes along Cas' hips and belly, arousal growing with each touch and soft little sound Cas makes. He doesn't know if he should press for more since Cas has been kind of unpredictable recently. Just as he registers the thick, sweet scent of his Omega's slick, he's stumbling backwards, nearly knocked over with Cas weight when he's suddenly tackled. Cas' hands at his shoulders, chest bumping into his as he pushes with his whole damn body like he's expecting Dean to resist.
Yeah. No. Definitely not. He's absolutely thrilled with way the hormones makes Cas a drooling sex fiend sometimes. Not that he's complaining about his Omega when he's in Heat or just any other grand ol' time they're plastered together. There's just something... different about his pregnant Omega taking control, pushing him down and mounting him that drives him wild and makes him want to keep Cas pregnant and barefoot, like, all the time no matter how impractical it would be.
Castiel pants softly as he tears at Dean's shirt, popping buttons in his haste to see, touch, taste bare skin. He needs to—like it's somehow essential to the process for him to get as much of his Alpha's skin pressed against his as possible. He shimmies out of his ruined underwear, the elastic shot from Dean yanking on it and the fabric soaked through with slick. As soon as he's kicked them free, he's pressed against Dean's front again, hands running greedily all over smooth, hot skin of his back and sides.
"Fuck," he groans, trying to get as much contact as possible. Dean accommodates him like the wonderful, understanding Mate and Alpha his is and wraps his arms around him, firm and strong. Dean's legs shift in a move that more instinctual than practiced, slotting their hips just right to keep constant contact and light pressure along his body. Castiel pulls away just enough to look down, marvel at the way his belly pooches out and presses against Dean's. Dean's gaze follows and they both make the same helpless sort of sound that's part gasp, part moan just before their mouths meet in a messy, desperate kiss at the same time.
Castiel offers no complaints when Dean pulls away to guide him towards the bed, unwilling to risk a stumble and fall with distracting kisses, and eases him down onto it. His back against the cool bedding making him sigh softly as he wriggles to settle, get more comfortable just as Dean climbs on and settles over him. As much as he enjoys pushing his Alpha down and riding him fast and hard, he's just as pleased when Dean pins him securely, using his slight height and weight advantage to loom over him and practically demand his submission.
He's happy to oblige and Dean is quick to arrange his body to his whims, using care and gentle touches even through his lust-driven movements. He moans softly as Dean shoves him up the bed to a more comfortable spot, stuffing some pillows behind him before settling between his legs with a deep, guttural grunting groan of satisfaction. A part of him thrills to hear the pure Alpha sound and his body relaxes completely, his arousal flaring quick and hot under Dean's skilled hands and mouth. He buries his hands in Dean's short hair when calloused hands slide down his sides, squeezing his hips for a moment before sliding around to his ass, canting his hips up.
Dean hums with pleasure as he feels the muscles in Cas' thighs tremble and quiver around his ears, his fingers pressing into the fluttering muscle, his palms pressing against Cas' cheeks for the best angle. He peppers kisses everywhere, teasing pecks and nibbling, sucking kisses, wanting to have his mouth everywhere at once. He pulls back just enough to be able to see, knowing his Omega is going to look freakin' delicious. And he does; that tanned-all-over skin flushed a rosy pink in spots, chest heaving, nipples rock-hard and perky, eyes wide and glassy, cock flushed and wet against his twitching stomach.
His twitching rounded stomach.
Fuck, but that turns Dean on like nothing he's ever experienced before. (And that includes that time Cas indulged him and tried on the little blue satiny panties.) He drops to an elbow and runs the pads of his fingers over the skin of Cas' belly. Tracing the gentle, bare-there swell of it. Laying down, its a bit more pronounced and his arousal inexplicably kicks into overdrive. He can't help himself; he shimmies down the bed and mouths at the soft skin. Tongue flicking and dragging around Cas' belly button and peppering kissing all around. He has to hold Cas still, his thumbs rubbing lazy, random patterns on his hipbones as he makes almost comical smooching sounds as he repeats the process all over again. He's so close to Cas' temptingly hard, wet dick and that heavenly scent of pre-come and slick, but Dean's content to stay where he is. Even though Cas' fingers dig into his scalp rhythmically, fingers pulling at his hair, his hips arching and wiggling around, trying to direct him. To get him to go lower, to the side, anywhere else.
He's just as hard and leaking, making little sticky trails all over Cas' thigh and the bed but he doesn't give a shit. Not when Cas' makes that awesome sound as his body twists and writhes in the very limited space between the bed and Dean's hands, and feels so amazing under his hands and lips. He looks up Cas' body, not at all surprised to see Cas staring back at him, eyes half-lidded and intense. When his gaze trails back down Cas' body, and settles on Cas' stomach, he groans and presses his forehead to Cas' thigh, breathing in and out as he tries to settle himself a little so he doesn't blow it before it can get really good. He really can't help the way his hips shift, though, rutting a little bit against Cas and the bed.
Castiel slides his fingers through Dean's hair until his Alpha lifts his head. He cups Dean's jaw and teases his thumb along Dean's bottom lip, biting his own when Dean's tongue snakes out to lick. He drags his thumb across Dean's lip again, more than a little taken with the way it glistens dully with saliva. He hums with satisfaction when Dean nips and licks at him again. He can feel the sticky-hot swell of Dean against his leg, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales the heady scent of aroused Alpha.
"Like seeing me all fat with your pup, hmmm, Alpha?" he murmurs, thumb pressing into Dean's mouth again. He doesn't press when Dean's mouth lets go and his Alpha's head tips down again, just lets Dean take a moment, runs his fingers through the short hair at the crown of Dean's head.
Dean swallows thickly and his eyes flutter closed with another soft groan. Fuckin' mouthy Omega. Not that he can deny a damn thing; it's obvious where his attention is and Cas knows him too well not to know how fucking turned on he is. Not to mention he's got a perfectly functional nose. He needs a moment to answer, though, so he kills some time with a nip to Cas' hip and inner thigh, dragging his thumb up and down between Cas' cheeks and enjoying the very warm glide of slick and the gasping, indrawn breathes Cas makes.
"Yeah. Yeah, Cas, I do," he admits, voice hoarse and low. He aims a cocky grin up at Cas, winking obnoxiously as he shifts his hips to rub his very interest cock against Cas'. He huffs a laugh when Cas' head tilts back and mouth drops open with a filthy moan, legs dropping open that little bit more, his eyes closed so tightly his nose crinkles. As much as he loves to hear Cas talk like that, he's pretty much over his cocky Omega's mouth doing anything but make wrecked sounds or kiss the hell out of him.
He gets to his knees and shifts Cas' legs up his arms again, nuzzling at Cas' neck and inhaling deeply as he presses hot and close, practically pinning Cas' knees to his damn shoulders as he presses his Omega into the mattress. He huffs against Cas, placing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck, mouthing the area a little hot and messy as he revels in the hot and slick and awesome where they press and stick together. He's reaching down to take himself in hand, glide on home, when something shifts. Changes. Maybe it's a delayed reaction, maybe it's just the way Cas' slightly changed scent hits him... Whatever it is, he's suddenly a lot more interested in drawing Cas' close and cuddling him than fucking him stupid.
He stills, hand slapping at the bed instead of wrapping around his knot. He's almost dizzy with the suddenness, the overwhelming sensations that has his chest feeling constricted and his breath stuttering. He's overcome with so much. A prickly sensation stings behind his eyes and it's the most embarrassing fucking thing ever. God, the moment their stomachs touched—it went from fuck Cas into the mattress to cuddle and adore his Omega in the time it took to teasingly drag the tip along Cas' slick cleft. Press their bodies close. To fucking breath.
Dean tucks his face back in between Cas' neck and shoulder, trying like hell to calm the shakes that have started to work through his body. He's embarrassingly close to all out crying for fuck's sake and he's not even sure why. At least he's not having a damn heart attack like he'd thought that first second...
He forces himself to breath deep and slow, even though he's still clinging to Cas like a freakin' koala. Dammit, he won't cry. Because then Cas will start crying and he's so not looking forward to them bawling, naked, in a big ol' pile of patheticness in their bed. He really could live and die a hundred times without that happening. Ever.
Cas, though, senses the mood shift almost immediately and wraps his arms and legs around him, hands sliding along his back, comforting and adoring now instead of lusty and demanding. Soothes him with soft touches and whispered words, allows Dean a few moments of quiet to Scent and clutch at him. Dean just holds on, soothed by Cas' presence even though his thoughts are still racing. The heated feeling of lust, desire, is still there but muted and twisted up with all sorts of shit and he can't think. He squeezes Cas a little tighter, feeling the changes in his Omega adds 'panic' into the mix of emotions and his breath hitches.
Oh fuck, he's going to be a father! His palms are slick against Cas' back as he scrabbles for a better hold but his Omega doesn't comment on it, just goes with it, rolls and shifts to make it easier. And every time one of them breathes, their fronts touch, the gentle swell of Cas' belly presses into his own is a stark reminder and he starts going off again.
God, he's pathetic. Practically bawling all over Cas, clinging to his Omega instead of the other way around. Cas' fingers running through his hair, kneading and massaging at his nape every so often, feels awesome and he can feel the panic finally drain away, the earlier elation and pride coming back to fill the gaps. He can feel Cas pressed against him and warmth explodes through him, making him a little dizzy with its intensity.
A few more moments spent deep breathing and it ebbs away, finally, and he's got enough breath back to talk.
"'m Sorry, Cas," Dean mutters, feeling like... well. A tease maybe, for getting them so riled up and shifting gears so damn fast. Cas just hums softly and nuzzles him, kissing along his temple, neck and shoulders. He didn't know what else he expected, really, because Cas is awesome like that. His body already catching up and warm and pliant for Dean's comfort instead of his knot. It's... awesome. And Dean isn't as mortified he'd pretty much ruined what was looking to be some awesome sex.
"Don't be, Dean," Castiel says softly, running his fingers through Dean's hair, down his neck and back. He relaxes into the mattress, a pleased hum coming out as Dean sinks into his embrace even more, nuzzling him sweetly. He nudges Dean over just enough to get them both on their sides, their legs still entwined, and sharing a pillow. Dean's face is a bit splotchy, eye lids slightly puffy. He's not seen his Alpha in such a state often and it never fails to tug at his heart.
Of course, his new-found habit of weeping at the slightest provocation doesn't help. He's unaware of the soft patter of tears down his cheeks and onto the pillow until Dean gently swipes at them with his thumb. "Sorry," he says through a watery smile.
Dean's laugh is kind of choked, but genuine nonetheless. He gathers Cas closer, his hand straying down to cover the tiny swell that changed everything. Everything—not just this moment, but his entire damn life. Holy shit. Seeing it—it's just so real. He makes a sound that almost sounds like someone's just strangled a cat and dives back into Cas, face pressed into his neck hard enough he can't breath for a second.
"Dean?"
Dean shakes his head as best he can, pulls back just enough to be heard, "I'm good, Cas. I just—just need a moment, 'kay?"
"Alright," Castiel says softly, fingers back in Dean's hair and rubbing along the tops of his ears. He know offering platitudes or affectionate words of comfort isn't what works for Dean. His Alpha is a hands-on sort; touch speaks louder, clearer, more effective than words ever could. And if his soft humming resembles a beloved old Beatles song, Dean doesn't comment or complain about chick moments—he just nuzzles closer, body soon relaxed and a contented scent replacing the acrid one. He can only imagine the gravity of the situation from Dean's perspective. He's had slightly longer to get used to the new development, the reality there in his mirror hours sooner. The few hours he's had before Dean to absorb the facts seems to have helped him and he's happy to give Dean the time he needs to catch up.
They lay there quietly for a few long moments, Dean's breathing soft and even, fingers loose but still in contact. Relaxed, but on the verge of falling asleep. Castiel doesn't begrudge Dean needed rest, but he's hungry and it's getting too late to start something for dinner. He wiggles Dean's arm a little, getting his Alpha's attention. When Dean makes a muffled sound of acknowledgment, he pulls away, smiling to himself when Dean makes a grumpy sound of protest that he ignores.
"Want to go to Stucky's?" Castiel asks, hoping Dean's return to even, deep breathing isn't indicative of sleep, just relaxation.
Dean just grunts in answer, choosing to tactfully ignore Cas' indulgent tone, like he's some tantrum-throwing pup being bribed into calming down with a trip to Mack E. Mouse's or something. Because, yeah, he could go for a giant ass burger and milkshake right now.
Or... better yet, after 10 minutes of more manly cuddling.
"Alright," Castiel capitulates, settling back down. He can wait another few minutes. Especially when Dean's hand splays against his lower stomach and snuggles in closer.
...❤...
Castiel is lounging in the V between Dean's legs, settled against his Alpha's chest like the world's best recliner, supported by Dean's body. His warmth and scent soothing. His knees are bent and resting over his Alpha's thighs, the soles of his socked feet pressed together. Both of Dean's hands are splayed out and resting lightly on his belly. At just over 31 weeks pregnant, there's quite the belly there for his Alpha's large hands to rest on. Which Dean does frequently, at any given opportunity. He enjoys feeling the warm firm weight of his Alpha's hand on him possibly more than Dean likes doing it.
Especially whenever Dean leans in for a kiss, a hand resting gently, possessively, on his bump and another wrapped around his hip.
As tactile a person Dean can be, private moments like this are the few times they're this close, touching freely and intimately. Snuggled in against each other, enjoying the others' warmth and scent. Otherwise, Dean's touch is kept to his arms, shoulder or belly, fleeting but enough to connect them. He doesn't mind so much, he'd probably be uncomfortable if Dean was one of those Alpha's that insisted on keeping their mate tucked under their arm.
A gentle hand on his elbow or the brush of Dean's fingers across the back of his hand speaks his affections as loudly as a grope when coming from Dean. (Not to say his Alpha doesn't occasionally get a tad inappropriate on occasion when in public; a quick feel of his ass when he retrieves something off the bottom shelf at the store or a sly thumb slipping under his shirt the occasions Dean feels compelled to wrap an arm around his waist.)
He settles back against his Dean, snuggling in close. They might do this every morning and night, but it doesn't make it any less special to him.
Castiel feels the nudging flutter at the same time Dean does, his Alpha moving his hand around a little with that excited twitch of fingers he's growing to know (and love) very well. He can't help smiling lazily, pleased as he always is when his Alpha can share in their pup's movements. It's a relative new thing for Dean and probably another reason Dean can't seem to keep his hands to himself. Dean has made a habit of keeping close to him since he started to show. When in private (and occasionally in public), Dean can't keep his hands off his belly when he feels the need to connect with touch.
It's like his Alpha has to reassure himself that he's there, safe, and their pup is still there.
Castiel can't says he minds, though. He adores Dean's hands on any part of his body, but especially right against their growing pup. A part of him, that ever present and pushy Omega part that's front and center with his Heats and now his pregnancy, positively relishes in Dean's protective (even possessive at times) hold. He even likes the way Dean's posture sometimes goes undeniably Alpha, rigid and tall, domineering and challenging to others, when they're in public and anyone gets too close for either of their comfort.
He slots their fingers together, soothed and comforted by Dean's solid warmth and closeness, his mellow, contented scent. As much as Dean needs to be close, he craves it just as much. A slow, sleepy smile grows when Dean starts speaking, voice hushed, his chin resting on Castiel's shoulder. The low rumble of Dean's voice is as soothing as the solid warmth of his Alpha's body around him. He adores Dean's new found habit of talking to their pup, occasionally getting close enough for Dean's lips to brush his bulging belly. He has a feeling Dean is embarrassed by the habit, since he only does it when he thinks Castiel is asleep or too blissed-out to make fun of him. He can't understand why Dean would be shy about being mushy and overly demonstrative, but it makes him completely gooey inside and completely in love with his Alpha all over again.
Dean's chin moves on his shoulder and he looks down to his swollen belly, where their hands are splayed protectively across it. He makes a sleepy sound, close to dozing, and settles back into Dean's chest as he gets as comfortable as he can to listen. Few positions are comfortable these days, but sitting up against Dean is always the best bet. He practically melts as Dean's hands move, gentle touches along his belly and slipping around to lightly massage his back every now and then. He sinks further into his Alpha, relaxed and sleepy, nose pressed to Dean's neck, his eyes closed.
Tonight's story is about how Uncle Sam should be avoided if he comes anywhere near his pup with comic books or anything resembling 'nerdy card games'. (With notable exceptions for Captain America and the Hulk. And Squirrel Girl, who inexplicably gets a pass. Castiel would ask but he's pretty sure he doesn't want to actually know.)
Castiel just snorts quietly in fond amusement, masking the sound as a soft snore. He knows Dean adores his brother, nerdiness and all, with a fierce protectiveness. He also knows Dean won't actually mind if their pup shares any traits with the Beta (he'd probably actually puff up with pride until he passed out). He presses a soft, sleepy kiss to Dean's temple, and snuggles in for an actual nap. Soothed by the soft smile he can hear in Dean's voice as he continues to talk to his belly, fingers gentle as they move around on his belly and sides.
Dean waits until Cas' head lolls back onto his shoulder in a heavy dead-weight, quiet little snores puffing out against his neck, before he resumes his conversation. He knows Cas listens in most times and mostly it's fine; it's not like Cas doesn't already know he's got a pretty big inner dork by now. Or how excited (but still panicked as all get out because fatherhood) he is about it all. But it's still a little weird to be caught out talking to... well. A bump. He's slightly comforted by the fact that the pup has actual ears and can hear him, even if it probably sounds all muffled like in a pool, so it's not as awkward to have the one-sided conversation.
He carefully shifts his legs a little to get some blood flow going, grimacing a little at the creepy crawly sensation working up and down his legs.
As awesome as it is snuggling up like this with Cas (it's almost a requirement these days so he's not acting like a complete Alpha dick), his Omega is getting heavier and it's really not so great on his back. Not that he'd ever, in a million years, say that to Cas. He massages Cas' back enough to know a whine about back pain isn't going to garner any sympathy now that Cas is getting huge enough to have almost constant muscle aches and twinges. Of course, Cas would also probably find another way to get comfortable that didn't mean lounging on him and he can't have that either, sore back be damned.
Dean wakes up a few hours later, back muscles practically screaming and his neck stiff because he fell asleep sitting up with Cas sprawled out in his lap. "Cas," he whispers, biting back a groan as he nudges at his Omega's shoulder. Cas just grumbles something in his sleep and smacks at him, landing a solid thwack on his nose hard enough to make his eyes sting and tear up. He curses under his breath and shifts just enough to get the blood working through his limbs again, gritting his teeth against the sharp pins and needles sensation that almost immediately follows.
It takes some careful maneuvering, and some artful pillow tucking, before he's finally free of Cas' deadweight and can make it to the bathroom before he pisses himself. He's just about to step into the shower when he notices the time. "Shit!" he groans under his breath and settles for a rinse off with a washcloth for now. He makes sure Cas is still asleep before creeping out of their room to the living room.
"Shit," Dean mutters again when he finds his cell phone. 10 missed calls and a dozen texts. He rolls his eyes and only needs to read two to realize it's just Sam having a complete breakdown over nothing. He rolls his shoulders and steels himself before tapping the green icon by Sam's name. He shuffles into the kitchen for coffee as he puts the phone to his ear.
Sam picks up on the first ring. "Dean!"
"Hey, Sammy," Dean says, chuckling softly under his breath. Sam, unsurprisingly, sounds like his usual self when they talk on the phone; a mix between relief and supremely pissed off. "What's up?" He can practically hear his brother's facial muscles moving into a scowl.
"Dean, I left you, like, dozens of messages," Sam says, standing up and starting to pace. "Please don't tell me you forgot what today is," he half pleads, half demands. Oh god, if Dean forgot, he's going to—
Dean laughs again, muffling the sound with his hand so he won't wake Cas. Dude might be sleeping like a rock now, but that's not constant enough to risk it. Not a morning person, like at all, a too-soon-disturbed Cas wakes like a bear, bedraggled and grumpy. It's sort of an adorable look for Cas but he's also snappy and foul-mouthed, especially now that he lays off the coffee, so he'd rather avoid that for as long as possible. "Sam, man, calm down. I didn't forget. Just overslept, that's all."
"That's all," Sam repeats, mouth snapping closed on a string of curses as he looks up for patience. "Dude," he hisses, wishing he was there so he could smack Dean around a little. "There's going to be people at your house in less than an hour, and you're not supposed to be there!" Seriously, did his brother forget the meaning of the word surprise?
Dean blinks a few times before it sinks in. Oh. Right. That's going down today... "Oops."
"Yeah, oops," Sam says, rolling his eyes. He grabs his keys from the table and heads out. "Well, find somewhere else to be. Pronto."
Dean looks longingly at the coffee maker and sighs. No time for coffee, but hopefully he can get some while they're out. Breakfast out sounds like a plan. He not-so-secretly likes to watch their waitresses faces try to stay that pleasant-polite expression when Cas orders his weird-shit-du jour. "Yeah, okay. You know, you could be a little nicer to me for agreeing to this."
"Right," Sam says, huffing out a sharp breath of annoyance and rolling his eyes again so hard it's a wonder they don't get stuck. "This is for Cas, like hell you weren't going to agree. Or butt in."
"True that, Sammy," Dean says brightly. He eases the bedroom door open and peeks in. Thankfully, Cas is sleeping light enough to stir when he hears the door open. Now that it's safe that Cas won't overhear any big plans, he's antsy for Cas to be awake. Even though, judging by the crease between his eyebrows and the faint frown, it's looking like he'll be a little grumpy. He closes the door again, resting his forehead against the wood. "You on the way?" he whispers.
"Yeah."
"Okay. Gimme like, ten minutes."
Sam sighs and hangs up without answering. He's going to be at Dean and Cas' in half that time.
He parks around the block, feeling absolutely ridiculous. He amuses himself with a game on his phone, losing track of time. But he hears the rumble of the Impala and feels even more ridiculous when he ends up ducking down in his seat on some weird impulse, suddenly thankful he doesn't have a distinctive car. As soon as he can't hear the Impala's engine anymore he sits up, peeking out the windows to make sure the coast is clear. He gets moving, reparking in their driveway.
He pulls his phone back out and nearly drops the damn thing when it rings in his hand. He nearly laughs when he sees it's Jo. "Hey," he says, "I was just about to call you."
"Sure, whatever," Jo mutters, huffing into the phone. "They gone?"
"Yeah, just left." Before he can say any more, Jo disconnects and he's listening to dial tone. Rude. He shrugs and gets the bags from the back of his car and lets himself into the house using his spare key. Thankfully, Jo lives close by and she's there within 5 minutes. She walks in without knocking and Sam's already heading for the coffee pot before Jo can bark at him again.
Jo just watches Sam move around the kitchen, arms folded over her chest. "Sorry," she mumbles when Sam glances over his shoulder, looking concerned and hesitant to speak to her, for the fourth time. She huffs softly, feeling a little bad. The big, hazel puppy-eyes of doom always do and she can't maintain a bitch-front for long, even the rare occasions Sam actually deserves her ire. "S'been one of those days," she says, clicking her thumb nail against her middle finger.
"S'okay," Sam says easily, going back to measuring coffee grounds. He knows to drop it—not ask what's bothering her—since Jo is about as emotionally available as his brother and he can tell that's all he's going to get by way of apology and explanation.
He leans against the counter once the coffee maker is hissing and gurgling. "This'll be ready in a few, wanna finish unpacking?"
Jo's mouth scrunches up as she thinks. "Hell no, but might as well," she says with a put upon sigh. She moves to the table and starts unpacking the bags. She makes a soft 'ugh' sound and wrinkles her nose at the mint green and butter yellow decorations, holding up a pack of napkins pointedly. Sam just shrugs at her.
There are cartoon giraffes on them. Wearing bonnets and bows. What the fuck is wrong with people?
"Unisex," Sam says with another shrug. He makes himself comfortable against the counter and crosses his arms, content to stay out of Jo's way as she methodically unpacks the bags, separating the gifts from the food. He'd offer to help, but he's too used to Jo's habits to get in the way. He really doesn't want an elbow to the gut for his efforts.
Jo huffs out a sound that partly put-upon and relieved. At least it's not pink. Even if Dean had a girl, she's pretty sure he's not the type to slather a pup in pink until she could say 'no'. Cas might but she's not sure who'd win the argument over tutus versus jeans since Dean's completely whipped (even if he'd deny it).
Poor pup would probably end up wearing both. Which—probably would actually be kinda badass.
"So, they're not telling or they don't know yet?" Jo asks, waving a pack of paper plates. They're kinda cute; yellow, green and lavender polka dots and more—thankfully unbonneted—giraffes all over them. Disgustingly adorable.
Sam laughs and pushes his hair back, "I'm pretty sure they just don't know. Last time I asked Cas about it, he said they could only see the pup's back during the ultrasound. Dean's convinced the pup was mooning 'em," he adds with a laugh and shrugs. Unsurprisingly, Dean had sounded more proud than annoyed. He turns around when the coffee maker gurgles and spits out the last few drops and is quick to pour a large mug of it for Jo.
"Figures," Jo says with an amused snort, taking the coffee with a twitch of her lips, a small, grateful smile. She takes a few gulps, not even caring that its scalding her mouth. After she's drained half the mug, she leans against the table. "So it'll just be us and Benny?" she asks, eyeing the mounds of food and froofroo decorative plates and napkins. It looks like a lot, but she's seen all these boys eat. Dean alone could plow through half of it.
Sam nods, not even bothering to look chagrined for the look Jo sends him that says he's clearly gone overboard with the decorations for something that wasn't even, technically, a party. As much as he believed Dean when his brother had said Cas hadn't wanted the fuss of an all out pup-shower, he still couldn't help himself when he'd seen the pastels and cuteness. Besides, paper plates are always useful, no matter what's on them.
Now that Jo is no longer snarling, happily imbibing her caffeine, he gets to work on the food while Jo sorts through the pup-themed decorations with one hand still wrapped around her mug.
"Ugh, why is this shit so damn cutesy?" Jo asks, wrinkling her nose up again at the cartoon pups, all pink-cheeked and adorable with grotesquely large diapers on. The giraffes are kind of weird, but cute. Too cute. It's all enough to make any self-respecting Beta cross her legs, back away, and run for the hills.
Sam shrugs, arranging the crudité around a container of dip. Hopefully he has enough food, but between Dean and Benny, though, he's not all that sure. "Normal people think pups are cute, so all the stuff for a pup-shower is going to be cutesy. Just shut up and get the balloons inflated," he says, elbowing Jo playfully but carefully so he doesn't spill her remaining coffee.
With another eye roll, Jo wanders off and gets busy making the living drip with balloons, crepe streamers and mounds of pup-themed gifts. Just as she putting the finishing touch—an obnoxiously large green bow—on the new glider chair, the door swings open. She glances over her shoulder and nearly laughs when she sees Benny struggling through the door with a pile of boxes.
She walks over and grabs the top few boxes off the pile just before they slide off to the floor. She nods when he grumbles a 'thanks' and makes a pile by the door. "Holy crap," she says when Benny turns right back around and heads out towards his beat up old pick-up. Another armload of boxes.
"How much stuff did you get?" Jo asks, holding the door open.
Benny huffs and places another stack of boxes down. "Everything?" he muses, looking over the pile. "Sam said everything, so tha's what I got."
"Thanks, Benny," Sam says as he joins them, eyeing the large pile as well. He huffs softly at the sheer volume of stuff. He'd had an abstract idea of what a pup needs, a list of the basics he could cobble together from memory and a few books, but looking at it all is a little overwhelming. He's suddenly glad there's three of them to tackle the task.
He rubs his hands together and starts sorting. "Everything'll need to go in the nursery, but I think it'll be easier to put stuff together here and then bring it in later." He looks between Jo and Benny, nodding when they shrug and nod along. The nursery is a good sized room, but not nearly big enough for three adults and various projects at the same time. Benny produces a small tool bag from who-knows-where and they get busy while Jo wanders off towards the empty nursery, muttering about painting.
Within an hour, the room is littered with empty boxes, crumpled instructions and a small mountain of pup-sized furniture.
Sam watches as Benny and Jo start cleaning up, gathering detritus and breaking down the boxes into a more manageable pile. He exhales with relief they're finally done and gets out his phone. He taps his leg as waits for the ringing to turn into his brother's voice. He's gritting his teeth by the fourth ring and ready to leave a less-than-polite message when Dean answers. "Dean!"
"Hey, Sammy. We're just finishing breakfast."
Sam sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. Now that he doesn't have to worry about Dean and Cas getting home too early, he's anxious to get things started. He turns his back on Benny and Jo bickering as they manhandle the crib down the hallway, partly to drown them out and so they don't see him trying not to grin. "Good. We're all set here, so whenever you can get your asses back ho—"
"Be there in ten!" Dean cuts in brightly and the call disconnects.
"Awesome," Sam mutters and pockets his phone. He grabs the last few things that need to be put away and heads into the nursery, rolling his eyes a little as he follows the sounds of Benny and Jo's continued bickering. He's not all that surprised to see them practically playing tug of war with the crib, one on either side of it as they tug and fight, the Alpha scowling at Jo's insistence of where it should be placed.
He pauses, blinking rapidly, when they both turn to him. "Woah, don't look at me," he says, edging into the room but away from them. He carefully places the pile of bedding and pup clothes on the changing table. "I don't care where it goes. Besides, Cas'll probably want it somewhere else anyway."
"Good point," Jo mutters, letting her end go and crossing her arms over her chest. She can wait but she's really not looking forward to the painstaking process that'll most likely be ahead as Cas has them shuffling the damn thing inches to the left, then right, then maybe under the window or by the corner.
They all still, heads cocking at the sound of the front door. They share a conspiratorial grin and rush out just in time to see Dean manhandle Cas' coat off, the Omega rolling his eyes. Sam's first and waves at Cas, enjoying the startled look, blue eyes going wide but happy, a little too much.
"Hey, guys." Benny and Jo peek out from behind him, grinning like idiots. They come out from behind him and rush Cas, both of them greeting him and getting their belly rubs and hugs in. "Uh, surprise?" Sam offers a smile, arms out.
Castiel looks between all the people, gaze landing on Dean last. He's confused, even though he's smiling and rubbing his belly. Everyone else looks so happy, it's impossible not to. Seeing Jo and Benny isn't exactly a surprise, it's lovely to have them over of course, but he doesn't think that's the surprise. "What?" He goes willingly when Sam grabs his wrist and leads him towards the living room.
He grins even wider when Cas pauses, his gaze flicking around at all the decorations.
"What is all this?" Castiel asks, gaze riveted on the comfortable looking glider, bedecked with plastic diaper pins, novelty bottles and ribbons. He glances over his shoulder to see Dean grinning mischievously and Jo trying to look bored and failing.
Sam clears his throat, suddenly unsure of everything. Cas doesn't sound excited. He doesn't sound mad either, so that's probably something. "Uhm, well. So. We heard you didn't wanna pup-shower—" Cas nods along, eyebrows furrowed but with concentration and not upset. He waves a hand around, "Okay, but you guys still need stuff. So. We, uh, got it and set it up."
"Oh."
Sam shifts from foot to foot when Cas just stands there, looking around. The pile of boxes is still there, so it's pretty obvious what all they've gotten. He's suddenly nervous Cas is going to be upset they took this away from him. Maybe Cas didn't want a pup-shower because of some pregnant Omega thing that had him wanting to do all this stuff himself?
Before he can offer an apology, offer to take all the stuff back, Cas is grabbing him and hugging him. His gaze darts to Dean but his brother is stuffing his face with three cocktail weenies and shrugs at him.
"Thank you, Sam," Castiel says, pulling away and swiping at his eyes. "Benny, Jo Anna Beth, thank you as well." They both grumble something that sounds like 'you're welcome' and he smiles widely.
"Welcome, Cas," Sam says, chuckling softly when Cas nods, still looking shell-shocked but pleased. He's quick to guide Cas towards the nursery, grinning widely as he opens the door with a flourish. Cas' indrawn breath of awe is totally worth the scrapped knuckles and freaking out he did to make sure everything was done.
He walks in, nudging Cas in past the threshold. "It's not all the way done," he says, point out the unmade crib, empty closet and dresser. "I figured you'd wanna do something, too, but we got all the major stuff done."
"Yes, I see that," Castiel murmurs and eyes the room. The walls are painted a soft buttery yellow, the smell of fresh paint still lingering but not overpowering enough to give him concern to be in the room. He nods absently when Sam is quick to tell him it's the stuff without harmful chemicals in it, safer for him and the pup, and continues to look around. He sniffles softly, his eyes prickling, and he's overwhelmed.
Sam steps closer, hands clenching and unclenching, panicking a little. He's not sure if this is the good kind of crying or the kind that'll have Dean in here looking to twist heads off. "Cas? You okay?"
"Yes, Sam," Castiel says and takes a deep breath. He leans into Sam and gives the Beta a side hug that Sam is quick to return. "Thank you." He looks around at the soft colors, the bright wood of the furniture, the stack of tiny clothes. He rubs his hands a long his belly, smiling brightly. They'll still need to pick out a pattern for the bedding. Maybe some things for the bare walls...
Sam nods, listening as Cas thinks aloud about what he wants to do, making mental notes to go shopping. "So, you like it?" he asks.
"Yes, thank you," Castiel says, gently stroking a hand down the baby blanket decoratively throw over the end of the crib. It's so soft, he's tempted to cuddle it. "I can't thank you all enough," he murmurs, looking around. They've all save him and Dean so much time and effort. He rubs at his belly as he looks through the piled pup-sized clothes.
Sam laughs and waves a hand. "Like we'd do anything less for pack." Cas nods his agreement and goes back to playing with the tiny socks. He can't really imagine a pup small enough to wear socks that size and he wishes the pup were here, right now, so he could fit them on their little feet. He watches Cas move around the room, touching things but mostly just looking. "Did you want anything moved?"
"Not at the moment." Castiel looks around again. He does want the furniture a little different but he fully intends to have Dean do it later, make sure his Alpha puts a little effort and work in here as well. His belly rumbles and he rubs it. "I suppose we should go find some food before Benny and Dean eat it all."
Sam grins, shaking his head. Not likely—Dean may be be a glutton, will no doubt have but a huge dent in the food, but there's no way he'd clear the plates before Cas got something. Benny either. The pair of them are the sappiest Alphas, like ever. He follows Cas back into the living room, but gently directs Cas in the direction of the glider when he heads towards the kitchen instead. "Go. Sit."
Castiel nods gratefully, already needing to get off his feet, and settles into the plush cushion. There's an obscenely large bow over his head but it's not in the way so he's able to ignore it. "Thank you, Sam," he says, meaning it for everything. He can tell by the way Sam nods the Beta knows what he means.
"Not a problem," Sam says, waving Cas' off. Like he'd not do this? He reaches a cautious hand down and pats the top of Cas' belly, rubbing briefly before pulling away. "Couldn't let my niece go without," he adds, grinning. "If I left it up to Dean, he'd be putting the crib together an hour before she's born."
Castiel laughs outright, nodding a little. For as excited as his Alpha is about being a father, Dean does have the habit of 'winging it' over preparation in many aspects of his life. They've done little preparation for their pup and he's suddenly stricken with the urge to rectify that oversight. Right now. But he settles back; they've handled all the big details now. That's a very good start. He looks around and finally spots Dean by the table of food, talking with Benny and filling two plates with food. He smiles when he sees Dean balancing two plates, a little awkwardly but filling both with his usual determination.
He lowers his face to hide his smile for a moment. He glances back up at Sam, "Very likely. And—" He gives Sam a stern, but affectionate, look, "We don't know if it's she or he."
"I know," Sam says with a shrug. It's nothing more than a feeling, of course, but it doesn't change how he feels—and he's got a 50/50 chance of being right, so whatever. He'll just wait, do his 'In-Your-Face' victory dance later the second that pup comes out an adorable little girl. He shuffles over two steps when Dean barges over, gently but insistently shouldering him out of the way and pushing a plate towards Cas. "Dude, didn't you just have breakfast?" he asks, eyeing Dean's overloaded plate. He's tempted to check the buffet to see if there are any mini-pies left for anyone else.
Dean shrugs. "So?" He smooths a napkin over Cas' belly, ignoring Sam's disgusting cooing noise as he balances the plate on top. Cas just rolls his eyes and takes the plate off his handy perch, giving his hand a brief squeeze in thanks as he looks over what Dean's plated for him. He can't help preening a little when Cas makes a happy sound and tucks a mini-quiche in his face that he thoughtfully slathered in grape jelly for him. He's pretty sure the weird cravings aren't from the pregnancy anymore, having vanished by the fifth month and a steady supply of prenatal vitamins. Nope, now he thinks Cas is just indulging his bizarro tastes that he's discovered just because he wants to. Cas isn't inhaling his food, just chewing slowly and savoring the weird mix of flavors.
He pecks a kiss to Cas' mouth, sneaking a lick in because there's a little jelly there and Sam can suck it if he doesn't like it. He settles down next to Cas, tucking his elbows in at the last minute. "I never say no to food." He stuffs his mouth with two mini-hotdogs, nearly losing it all when he licks at the glob of ketchup at the corner of his mouth. "Besides, Ellen made this," he says, nodding down at his plate. As if that's not reason alone to grab a few healthy portions, regardless of stomach capacity. Ellen doesn't go all out often and there's no way he's going to miss out on this Ellen-made spread. He's pretty sure the pies alone will put him in a food-coma for about a week and he really can't wait.
Sam grimaces at the travesty that are his brother's eating habits and nods, hearing the unspoken 'and she'd kick my ass and check for a fever if I didn't'. A likely result if Dean didn't at least attempt to gorge himself stupid on her food. Both of them know Jo will gleefully report in to her mom if he doesn't make a dent in the platters. He decides that watching his brother eat, and occasionally feed Cas, is just a little more gross—on every level possible—than he can handle right now and heads towards the kitchen.