"Where's Alex? Where is Alex gone?" Dean shuffles on his knees, round the corner of their sofa.
Fits of giggles emanate from under a soft fleecy choo-choo-train patterned blanket. A blond head with big green eyes appears.
"Boo!"
"There's my Alex!" Dean covers his O-shaped mouth in fake-surprise.
"Me up." Dimples appear in the 21-month old's rosy cheeks as he raises his arms for his newly home Poppa to comply with his demand.
Dean checks he has removed his sharp cornered name pin, before he lifts his darling boy from his hiding spot. Small slightly sticky hands wrap around his neck, playing with the edge of his collar. A sloppy raspberry flavored kiss smacks Dean's cheek.
"Poppa." Alex pronounces simply.
Dean adorns his son's face with his own kisses. He adjusts his hold on Alex so he can look his little one in the eye. "Were you a good boy for Daddy today?"
"Uh-huh," Alex bobs his head rapidly, "Me's very good."
Rising to his feet, Dean carries their boy though the kitchen. Benny has taken his coffee to sit on their lawn chairs. It is a hot early September afternoon. A mountain breeze makes it more pleasant to be outside than in. The alpha grins widely seeing his favorite people coming to join him.
"You want me to take our boy while you wash up?" Benny asks as Dean lets his slightly squirming toddler out of his hold so Alex can plunk his diaper clad butt in the grass next to his Daddy's legs.
Raising one eyebrow, Dean makes an exaggerated motion to sniff his armpit. "You saying I stink, Alpha?"
Benny smirks, "Only of good things, Sugar."
Dean shakes his head affectionately, "I'll change outta my work threads. Won't be a minute."
"Take your time, Darlin'." Benny adds languidly, "Us alphas will guard the garden against all invaders."
Alex pops his head up, insisting "My garden."
Dean chuckles as he ducks indoors. Since early summer, Alex has been putting a few words together to form mini-sentences. Most of them seem to involve 'My house', 'My Poppa', 'My cookie'. It cracks Benny up, especially when Alex stamps his little foot. Dean's highlight is when Alex wants 'My Poppa' to take his hand, yet is determined to mount the stairs. The omega suspects that Alex is capable of balancing well enough to take the stairs without stumbling, but his boy seems to preen when his Poppa helps him out.
Dean finds his son's independent spirit adorable. Maybe this comes naturally to young alphas, bringing Lil'Sammy to mind. However Dean will not stereotype his pup. Alex can have clingy moments, times when only cuddles will satisfy his grabby hands, or when he wants nothing more than to snuggle with his plushy black bear pressed to his nose. Most clingy, and possibly sulky, moments come when Dean gets home from his once-a-week full day at work, or the rare hunt. Dean occasionally takes on a nearby straight-forward salt'n'burn that will not keep him away for more than one night. Benny has assured him that if he is ready to try a hunt more than a day's drive away, his mate is more than capable of keeping their son watered, fed and amused. Plus they have a trusted sitter to take care of their pup when needed. Soon after Alex's first Christmas the Lafitte mates were introduced to Eucharia Isolo. The middle aged Mumu-wearing-omega sits her own grandpups for her working daughters, and came recommended to sit Alex when Dean would have his next heat. With a background check courtesy of Bobby's secret contact, and good vibes when they met her, Auntie Eucharia became their go-to sitter and family friend, who takes Alex during the one day that his fathers' shifts overlap, and most importantly for date nights, or 'knot nights' as Dean calls them. Dean works part time at the local Chevrolet dealership. He has hopes that his beta boss will let him get his hands dirty more often in the auto shop, but for now as this year's newbie he is happy to talk cars all day at front of house. Omega buyers tend to deliberately seek him out for his opinions, and as a consequence of Dean's hire, the dealership's sideline in pup car seats has gone into hyperspace, all due to alphas being persuaded by their mates to heed Dean's recommendations.
When Alex is down for his afternoon nap, Benny surprises Dean with an indulgent wild raspberry and almond pie, freshly warm from the oven, a blob of vanilla cream sliding over the sweet crust.
They curl on the sofa, a re-run of the Dr Sexy episode where hot yet earnest Dr Piccolo loses her memory on their muted TV. Dean has seen it multiple times. He hums around his soft juicy creamy pie filling.
"You're the best." He compliments, pushing back into his alpha.
"Pie talking." Benny sing songs to the tune of the Bee Gees 'Jive Talkin.'
"Well I ain't telling no lies." Dean says with his open mouth full.
"I believe you," Benny teasingly sneaks his hand under Dean's tee, stroking and rubbing in a rhythm that goes straight to Dean's cock.
The omega shuffles about, trying to consume final mouthfuls of deliciousness, while denying how his body is responding, scent of slick filling the air and Benny's nostrils. A rumble of desire from his alpha and Dean is flinging his arms backward, twisting his body to cover his mate as much as possible. Benny totally gets with the program. His hard length teases Dean's crack. They race, fumbling, licking, grabbing, and kissing to remove their summer clothing.
Dean throws his head back, sigh expelled, watching Benny come closer and closer. His hole twitches, sweet slick flooding.
"Good thing these covers are machine washable." Benny snorts.
"Shuddup." Dean urges. "Shut the freak up and take me freaking now."
"Your wish is my…"
Benny never gets to say 'command'. Dean rises to smash their lips together. He digs his nails into the firm meat of his alpha's shoulders, growls possessively as Benny lifts him, tight skin to skin. The alpha's teeth graze over Dean's mating mark, sucking, renewing his claim.
"Alpha," Dean moans.
"My Dean," Benny puffs, manhandling his mate so Dean is on top, knees pressing into sofa cushions.
Dean's eyes flutter as he lowers his body, achingly slowly, taking Benny in. He feels more than sees Benny's thumb tipping the cleft of his chin. Bobbing his head forward the omega takes the digit into the hot cavern of his mouth, pulling hard sucks as he is filled by his alpha. Benny's other hand spans his spine. His alpha's head lowers to lick teasingly across Dean's leaking slit.
"Mon Dieu," Benny groans, beard scratching Dean's sensitive cock.
It is almost too much stimulation, the pressure of Benny's thumb, the attention paid to his rock hard cock, clenching, riding his alpha. Dean climaxes with a hissed cry of "Alpha", painting his mate's face in ropes of pearly come. Benny shakes, eyes roll back. He slips his thumb from Dean's lips, grips him almost too tight, and comes long and hard. Dean winces as his rim is caught by the beginnings of Benny's knot. His alpha murmurs an apology.
"Shush," Dean soothes, curling round his mate's body. They've perfected mating without knotting, having their little one always in mind. Benny's biology sometimes flatters Dean by popping a knot before the omega can be filled by his alpha. Those are their more adventurous bedroom times.
His alpha plants lazy kisses along Dean's neck and upper spine. It is a familiar welcome act, their precious morning moment after Benny buckles Dean's collar.
Tucked into Benny's hold, head resting on the cushioned sofa arm, Dean could almost fall into a post-coital nap. Unfortunately his alpha finds it a good time to impart a message.
"Darlin'," Benny mutters sleepily, "Forgot to say your Dad called while you were at work."
That's done it. In a pavlovian reaction, adrenalin pumps through Dean's veins. He bounces off the sofa, straightening his back, standing to attention. His eyes seek the landline handset, or where he dropped his keys and cell.
"No fire." Benny drawls slowly, "No mayday."
Dean lets out a breath he had not known he was holding. "Oh?"
"Yeah," Benny nods, eyes concernedly checking that Dean is leaving alert-response mode behind. "Y'know, he don't like spilling any beans to my civilian ears, but he said to tell'ya Peoria was a bust out, all clear."
Dean nods. He spies his cell phone peeping out from under Alex's pop-up Old MacDonald's Farm book. "I'm gonna return his call, y'know, just in case."
Benny hums knowingly, "I'll go wash up and see if the real alpha of the house is stirring."
"Thanks, Alpha." Dean tilts his cheek for a kiss as Benny passes him. He gets a shoulder squeeze bonus.
"You wanna ask him what we discussed?"
"Uh-huh," Dean confirms with a shrug, "I'll give it a try."
"Good," Benny nods.
Alone, Dean takes a deep inhalation. He perches on the edge of the chair closest to their hearth, cupping his phone in his palm. Calling John is a fairground wheel of fortune. Sometimes it spins to voicemail or 'not now'. A year and a half ago, it had began with a terse enquiry of whether Dean was Okay and Benny was treating him right. Only on a second call, more than a month later, did Dean get to tell John that he had a grand-pup. Since then short calls have been regular, at least once a week, a pattern that is kind of an organic role reversal, where John is now the lone-hunter who checks in with his son.
"Dad?"
"Hey, Son."
Today John's voice is warm, the honey of it feeding Dean's need to keep his family close in heart, to know that his distant alpha Dad and brother are safe.
"You sound tired," Dean ventures.
"You can tell that from two words?" John queries, "Been straight up cases all summer long. Don't know what's so special about 2005, but it's been a bumper year for omens and messy crap."
Dean hums. He knows from their calls and the wide spread of co-ordinates he received by text.
"I got one you might want."
"Something in this neck of the woods?" Dean's voice rises in surprise. He rubs the warmed pewter clasp at the back of his collar.
"Hoodoo trouble brewing down in New Orleans…"
"Dad!" Dean interrupts to reiterate his policy of staying local.
"Hear me out." John commands.
Dean gulps at the taster of days gone by, but he complies, pressing his lips together and listening carefully.
"No fatalities, yet. Rumors of some Hoodoo priest conning the unsuspecting desperate. Pinged my attention because animal sacrifices can be reporter-speak for demonic mutilations. This time it looks like plain nasty magic that needs stopped, but it's not immediate priority. Thought you might take a family road trip with your Louisianan alpha, visit your mate's old haunts and deal with the case along the way."
John has it all planned out. To the alpha hunter taking a toddler on the road to face a Hoodoo situation is perfectly reasonable. A tiny part of Dean is tempted by the way his alpha father has spoken about visiting Benny's roots. He continues to hear John's spiel of how they didn't need to drop tools and hustle there, but could work around their commitments, maybe go in a few weeks time. However Dean has vowed that he will not take his pup on the road.
"I don't think so, Dad." Dean's voice is firm, but his stomach twists at disappointing his father, dashing any hopes that John may harbor about having Dean available to pick up his slack.
"I suppose I'll get around to it eventually," John sighs.
Guilt at the thought of people being wounded in the meantime burns the back of Dean's throat, but the omega has got his own priorities to think of, and Alex trumps all. A thought occurs to him.
"Did you get a lead out of Peoria? Do you think it is the thing that killed Mom?"
"I dunno, Dean, but I can't ignore this." It is said with a measure of admonishment as if Dean was asking his father to change his plans.
"You could get help?" Dean suggests, "Ask Bobby?"
That meets with a huff.
"Annie Hawkins overnighted with us. She says there's this hunters' roadhouse in Nebraska…"
"I know of The Roadhouse," John snaps. "I work solo, without alpha fools thinking they know better than me."
"Yessir," Dean represses a sigh. Since they have taken on Harry Mason's old home, the young hunter has learned the valuable benefit of sharing tales and lore with other hunters. However there is no reasoning with John. Perhaps if it warrants, his stubborn Dad will go to Jim Murphy for his expertise. Thinking of any way to help, Dean offers, "We could find someone for the New Orleans case?"
"No, Boy, I'll make it work." John replies gruffly.
"What are your plans?" Dean's hand scrubs the back of his collar, unsure that John will divulge.
"Wrap up here. I got a thing needs doing in Minnesota. I might head for The Big Easy, but if not I'll send you co-ordinates."
"And you'll check in?"
"I will." John promises. It's as close to a measure of apologetic familial connection that Dean is going to get, so he gladly takes it.
Rushing headlong while John is agreeable, "Dad, y'know Alex will be two just after Thanksgiving? You could come. Sam is bringing Jess to meet us. You could meet her and Alex? You'd be more than welcome."
"We'll see, Son. Depends on where this trail will take me."
"Sure, Dad." Dean masks his disappointment but holds onto the fact that he didn't receive a downright refusal.
They say their farewells. Benny appears like a blessed apparition. Dean lifts his arms in imitation of their toddler asking to be picked up. His alpha swamps him, somehow ending with Dean pressed against the blue cotton of his clean Henley, legs splayed across Benny's lap. Dean tucks his nose under his mate's ear, drawing solace from his wondrous scent.
"Bad?" Benny enquires.
Dean doesn't remove his nose to shake his head in a negative.
"I take it we won't be graced with his presence for Thanksgiving."
"Dunno," Dean murmurs, "He didn't say yes or no."
Benny huffs, "If he is coming he'd better behave, or his ass will be dumped in the snow with his dinner over his head."
Dean chuckles at the image conjured, adding a jaw-dropped shocked face to his Dad and Benny with Sam, both with hands on hips, standing on the porch.
A warm hand spans his spine, stroking softly.
"You good, Mon Cher?" Benny croons.
"Peachy." Dean whispers truthfully. He's got his alpha ready to stand by his side no matter what November brings.
That evening Dean follows tradition, taking a beer out to the porch swing. He dials Palo Alto interrupting Jess and Sam. According to his brother, Dean has saved Sam from having his ass whipped at Grand Theft Auto by his omega girlfriend. He relays the details of his conversation with John. Sam goes ominously silent. For a moment, Dean fears that Sam is gonna pull out of coming to Idaho in order to avoid John, but his brother is in on their plans and agrees the time was right.
Instead Sam expels a long huff, "Dean, I don't like this offering you hunts cross the country."
"I wasn't gonna take it." Dean squawks.
"You know what he is like. This could be the first request before he wears you down with cases from New York to Georgia to Arizona. When he is on the Pacific, he knows you'll take the Atlantic hunt."
"No, Sammy. You're talking about the past." Dean shakes his head. "I'm not moving my butt. No freaking way am I leaving my pup or taking him with."
"I hear you." Sam's sigh speaks of relief, that John hasn't changed Dean's mind. There hadn't been a chance of it. "Guess Benny and Alex get first dibs."
"They get all dibs." Dean chuckles.
"I registered for the LSAT," Sam relays.
"So you're definitely going for the Matlock future," Dean ribs.
"Hey, Jerk, I don't know what branch of law I want yet, and please, Perry Mason if you've gotta provide a classic TV lawyer."
"You wish, Bitch." Dean chortles.
"Goodnight, Dean." Sam insists.
Dean can hear Jessica calling her own goodbye, as he bids his brother good luck.
The following morning Dean carries his newly bathed pup to the kitchen for breakfast. Alex pouts when he is lowered into his high chair.
"Hey Alpha Frowny Face," Benny waves his spatula, evoking a beaming smile as Alex tilts his head to scent his Daddy and sizzling bacon. Turning to his mate, Benny bumps their hips together, "Mornin' Darlin'"
"Morning, Alpha," Dean adds a quick cheek peck, before pouring a mug of strong hot coffee and opening the refrigerator. "You want juice, Alex Pup?"
"Jooooos!" Alex cheers.
Filling a blue sippy cup, Dean is surprised by another kiss to his exposed neck. Arms wrap around his waist.
"Love this." Benny murmurs.
"Huh?" Dean asks with an affectionate grin thrown over his shoulder.
"Can't keep my paws off you, Sugar. My handsome wonderful omega, our adorable pup, a shared day off, sun shining, raspberries to be harvested, and time to sit together for breakfast, what more could anyone want?"
"Benny Lafitte, my silver tongued southern gentleman alpha, you know you're everything I need." Dean takes his turn to bump hips.
Alex watches his daddies with a beady eye, soaking in every interaction. Whatever he picks up this morning leads to unknown patience by the hungry pup, who contentedly sucks on his juice while Dean and Benny caress, prepare their simple meal, and caress some more.
Dean flicks to Classic Rock on the radio. Foreigner's 'Cold as Ice' has Alex tapping his plastic spoon. Dean is proud of his son's rhythm, while Benny mutters over the skillet about never getting his pup a drum kit.
The back to back play changes to 'I Want to Know What Love Is.' If Dean was in the Impala with Sammy, he'd be obliged to avoid such a chick flick tune. Here he can mouth along, swaying his hips, almost misty eyed at how the lyrics fit his family.
Humming that he knows love has finally found him, Dean feels the whack of the dish cloth against his butt.
"Hey Rockstar," Benny teases, "Grubs up."
"Yes, Alpha." Dean replies with a coquettish smirk.
He ruffles Alex's hair, takes his seat between Benny and their pup for their lazy day breakfast.
When their meal is done, Benny takes their plates to the sink, while Dean cleans his protesting pup's face with a few wet wipes. He lifts Alex from the highchair, checking his shoes are securely on, and sets his son on his feet. Alex's hand rises to take his Poppa's. They make their way out to the back porch. Sunshine heightens the verdant pastures beyond. Dean smiles at his vibrating pup.
"Rap Berries?" Alex proves he is clued into the day's plans.
"Yep," Dean agrees, lifting Alex onto his hip and pointing out the bushes they will harvest. He cocks his head back towards the kitchen window. Benny has re-donned his apron and is up to his elbows in washing suds. The alpha winks at his mate and son. Dean responds with a joy-filled grin.
The omega stands upright, tall and satisfied. If he had chest feathers, they would plump. This is his life, his family, his home, his love. It makes him burst with pride.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++SPNSPNSPN+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The End.
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