Whatever it is You Need, I Pray I Am
Jan. 7th, 2014 09:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dime_lioraTitle: Whatever it is You Need, I Pray I Am
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dimeliora
Wordcount: 4,840
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Warning(s): Slight violence, angst, mpreg, schmooooop, A/B/O, knotting, slight underage (Sam is 17)
Prompt(s): Sam is kidnapped by a shapeshifter who figures out that Sam just recently discovered he was pregnant and hasn't told Dean yet (either hasn't had the time or is scared of Dean's reaction). The Shapeshifter reveals it to Dean and revels in the fact he doesn't know.
Notes: Written formpreg_xmas_xchg, as a gift for the amazing, wonderful, talented jcrgirl, who deserved better, but got me. I adore you, and I only hope this makes you smile a little.
Summary: Dean's had a bad week, but the revelation the shapeshifter is about to give him will only make it worse.
When he dropped out of high school four years earlier Dean had taken a fair amount of shit from Sam about the necessity of proper schooling. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart, a fact his brother reminded him of a million times, it was that the whole thing had seemed so arbitrary. What was the point of Euclidean whatevers when the world was full of monsters? What did the atomic weight of Barium have to do with saving humanity one son of a bitch at a time? In fact, if he was being honest, Dean had been pretty excellent in school when he applied himself, because his memory was flawless. Lists, trivia, names, and dates, all of them fell into a special category of memory that Dean excelled at because that sort of recitation was more than a little necessary in his chosen profession. And that ability was currently reminding him that the long list of rules he’d broken to end up in this situation weren’t really the kind he should have been breaking.
On the other hand, he was twenty-one as of yesterday, and while that had never stopped him before there was a certain pride in handing the bartender his fake ID tonight and knowing that in another life it would have been a real one. There was a real pleasure in getting completely trashed, grinning at the woman across the pool table who’d been checking his ass out all night, and tapping his foot to the beat of Led Zeppelin as he tried his best to forget the sullen teenager in the baggy hoodie back at the motel room that seemed to hate everything Dean Winchester these days.
So, rule one, leaving Sam, and rule two, getting wasted while on a hunt hadn’t seemed like the worst infractions to commit. His real birthday had been spent in library stacks and then getting the cold shoulder from his little brother for the entire day without even a mention of the celebration that was apparently once again going unnoticed. It didn’t help that Dad called in for three minutes to check on Sam and then remind Dean to look in the obituaries further back than ten years. Didn’t he deserve a goddamn celebration? Just a little bit of happiness in the middle of what was apparently total familial neglect?
Apparently not, if the shapeshifter crouched down in front of him contorting Sam’s familiar face into a totally unrecognizable and fairly evil smirk was any indication. In fact, Dean was pretty sure from now on he would just take everybody ignoring his birthday and be thankful, because fuck this.
“You’re gonna regret this.”
The creature tilted its head, Sam’s motion but not his expression. “Not as much as your brother. Locked in a cold damp place. Hope he can handle it. You know, in his condition.”
“What did you do to him you son of a bitch?”
The creature’s face curled even more, Sam’s lips twisted into a level of hate his little brother had never experienced.
“You know the funny thing about taking someone’s skin Dean? You get all their memories too. Everything that floats around inside their head is right there for you to flip through like a library. For example, I know that your little brother is afraid of clowns, that he’s got some seriously fucked up issues about being a freak, and that last summer when daddy wasn’t watching you and he mated.”
Dean froze, hands curled into a parody of violence in their metal shackles and firmly placed behind him.
“What?”
“That’s right, your gangly, awkward, omega brother is your mate. What’s a matter alpha, couldn’t get a normal one so you had to poach your brother?”
Dean had to swallow hard at that, and remind himself that if the thing was in Sam’s head then it knew the fears Dean had admitted to Sam before he’d finally agreed to mate him.
He forced a yawn, fingers flexing as he pulled at the seam of his sleeve cuff trying to get the lockpick out. Apparently “not telling Sam all his tricks” wasn’t on the list of mistakes.
“This the best you got? My sex life? You’re not gonna get very far dragging that out.”
The thing’s face flashed fury before the smug condescension settled back in. “How quickly you forget.”
But he didn’t. He didn’t forget that he’d left Sam here out of self-pity and spite, left his mate and headed off to the bar only to come back here too drunk to notice it wasn’t Sam greeting him before the sharp blow and then unconsciousness.
“Ok, fine, I’ll humor you. What’s your big attack? Sam secretly hates my cologne? He wants to buy a cat?”
And suddenly there the thing was, able to copy Sam to the minutest detail even the scent of his little brother. Except something was wrong, off, and Dean took a deep breath of it and listened to his brain screaming at his instincts to shut up even as the thing started talking again.
“Little Sammy has a secret.” Sing-song and hateful, and then the shapeshifter moved just out of touch and lifted Sam’s now trademark baggy hoodie to reveal a noticeable bump, too perfectly round and placed to be mistaken for regular weight gain.
It was a testament to how bad off Dean was that his first reaction, despite knowing that the thing wasn’t Sam and that it was only mocking his condition, was to crawl forward on his knees and press his face against their child.
Mentally, he added “unprotected sex with Sam during heats” to the list of rules he’d broken and was now suffering the consequences for.
An even worse sign then that he was overcome with rage when the thing touched that fake bump and laughed again. His fingers itched to pull faster, to pop the locks right the fuck now and then drop so much silver into the shapeshifter’s bloodstream that nothing would be left of it. But he had to go slow, because while Sam’s memories couldn’t supply it with his hiding spot they could certainly tell it what he looked like picking a lock.
“Why do you think he didn’t tell his big brother? His mate? Do you wanna know Dean?”
“Yeah, sure, and right after that maybe you could explain why he’s so goddamn particular about how his socks get folded. I’ve always fucking wondered that.”
The shapeshifter frowned again and then leaned in close.
“He knew you’d resent him. Resent that he didn’t warn you he felt the heat coming on so you could take precautions, hate him for making you leave the life, and most of all never forgive him for how your father is going to hate you when he finds out.”
And that? Despite knowing that it was blatant emotional manipulation, the words of a monster using the arsenal Sam had on him, Dean was set back on his heels for a second, gulping in air at the sheer amount of shit being dropped on him at once.
Because there was no doubt in his mind that Sam had thought all of those things.
Instead of answering he simply settled his gaze on the thing, fingers working fast and furious to hit the last spot necessary to pop the cuffs.
“I had a brother Dean. He actually used to live right in this very city. Know what happened to him? Your father came after him, hunted him down, and killed him in the fucking sewers like a dirty rat. And you helped him. So now, since your dad is an only child, I’ve put your brother in the same sewers. He’ll die slow, cold and alone, and clutching the baby that never should have been made.”
Pop.
There was another thing Dean hadn’t told Sam. The silver knife he’d strapped under the sink in the motel bathroom just in case. Sam tended to get mocking about Dean’s paranoia.
He wanted to take it slow, to make the thing suffer, but Sammy and his baby were somewhere in danger and doubting their worth, and Dean had a job to do.
Which meant he had to take what little satisfaction he could out of sinking the blade into the monster’s heart and watching him die quick before dropping the mess and quickly washing the blood off his hands. It didn’t take long to get presentable enough to head out.
----
When the deaths started popping up on their radar Dean had immediately remembered the last time they’d been here. He hadn’t been old enough to officially hunt, but he had been Dad’s backup. Which meant he’d been assigned research and then slipped his way into the hunt proper to both grudging approval and a severe chewing out.
He was fourteen, and it was his first shapeshifter. They’d caught the line of deaths, each one a little more drawn out and sadistic than the one before it, and each attributed to a loved one of the recently deceased. Dad had known what it was before they’d even crossed the county line, and Dean can still remember the overwhelming admiration and love he’d had for the man at the time. There was no question that his father was a hero, the kind of alpha Dean wanted to be one day, and if he could just help a little bit he could gain some of that status and glory. Maybe Sammy would look at him the way Dean looked at Dad.
Sam often accused him of being unable to recognize irony. As Dean popped the cap off the sewer access and grabbed the first rung of the ladder he couldn’t help the bitter laugh that specific memory evoked.
He’d known, even then, that his relationship with Sam wasn’t entirely what it should have been. There was a protectiveness there that couldn’t be explained simply by the familial bond, or the natural alpha urge to shelter an omega. When they had to share a bed Dean would find himself sliding up too close, taking too many breaths of Sam’s distinctive smell, and every time he caught himself doing it he just did it more.
Sure, in the end it was Sam that crossed the line, that pushed and pushed until Dean couldn’t say no and couldn’t turn away, but that didn’t change the fact that Dean had known on some level since he popped his first knot that Sam was the only omega for him. That one day his control was gonna break, and it would end with his teeth in his brother’s skin and his knot firmly locked into Sammy’s ass.
He knew that Sam thought his hesitation was over the incest angle, and it probably should have been, but in reality Dean’s concern had been that Sam deserved better, and Dean was only his first choice because Sam had been locked in rooms with him since he was six months old. Granted, their dad’s opinion mattered to him somewhat, but despite Sam’s belief that Dean’s entire life was based around Dad’s marching orders if it came down to a choice there wasn’t ever going to be any hesitation.
Dean had held out against it as long as he could, waiting for Sam to try for someone else even as he prayed it wouldn’t happen. Then it did, and once he had Sam that was it for him. It opened doors Dean had never dreamed of, allowed him to see the world in new ways, and that change in perspective had been everything.
There was still tension over their differing opinions on hunting and how important it was, Dean still wished Sam would try just a little bit harder to see Dad’s point of view, and every now and then he still busted Sammy’s balls, because brothers, but at the end of the day as long as Dad wasn’t in the room with them it was always Dean curled around his gangly little brother, face buried in the base of his neck taking in every nuance of Sam’s scent.
How had he missed that Sam was pregnant?
The tunnels spread out in front of him, and Dean reverted entirely to instinct and memory as he wound his way deeper into the earth and ruminated on how they’d gotten there. How he’d failed so badly that Sam didn’t realize what a fucking miracle it was that he was carrying their baby inside of him. That he was extending their little family one more person.
Yeah, they hadn’t planned it, and there were going to be serious consequences, but the fact that Sam could doubt his devotion for even a moment said more about how badly he’d messed up as Sam’s alpha than he ever dreamed he could. This wasn’t a fight about who got the last of the Chef Boyardee or whether or not Dean was still allowed to noogie Sam when he was feeling frisky.
It was a baby. Theirs. Growing inside Sam and carrying both of their genetics as it developed. Their baby. When he got Sam untied and out of danger, scrubbed the smell of the sewer and the dark off his skin, and then bitched him out until Dean’s voice failed then he would spend hours with his face pressed against his mate’s stomach telling both Sammy and their child that there was nothing that would ever come before them. That he had never dreamed he could be given such a gift, and that he would happily spend the rest of his life nurturing and loving both of them.
But first, the rescuing and then the bitching out.
One last turn, and there Sam was. Even in the dim light Dean could make out the smudges of dirt mixed with the bruising of a beating. Sam’s left eye was partially closed, lip encrusted with blood and dirt, and body slack and hanging from a pipe. Dean sloshed his way through the disgusting water and then slipped his lockpicks back out before starting to work on the shackles holding Sam up. His mate didn’t even stir as Dean popped the locks and caught Sam on his way down.
It was easy to hitch him up, bridal style, and then carry him back towards the entrance ladder and the exit to the Impala.
Sam being unconscious was no barrier to Dean starting the conversation they’d be having again once he awoke.
“You idiot. You big, stupid, crazy, idiot. You know how bad you scared me? I get that the wards didn’t hold him out, but goddamn it Sam was that really how I had to find out? Through a shapeshifter? How little you think of me that it seemed like a good idea to-and Jesus Sammy what were you gonna do when those hoodies of yours weren’t gonna cut it anymore?”
“Tell you I over ate.” It was weak, hazy, but it meant Sam was awake, and the snark meant he was ok.
“I’ve seen the way you eat. Wouldn’t explain that sort of weight gain. Dummy.”
Sam’s face twisted, mouth pursing, but his head tilted so that it was pressed more firmly against Dean’s shoulder.
“You would’ve fallen for it.”
“Sammy, I only got so much left in me. I’d suggest you make all your jokes worthwhile.”
His brother’s mouth smoothed out, and then very hesitantly Sam’s voice carried over the echo of Dean’s footsteps and the liquid splashing against the stone walls to cut straight into Dean’s heart.
“So you are angry?”
Dean had never been good at staying firm when Sam sounded like that, lost and little.
“Oh yeah. I’m fucking furious. Know why? Because you ruined my birthday to keep me from seeing your baby bump. You know how much money you could have saved on the present you shoulda bought me if you just showed me that little miracle?”
Sam’s voice came back shaky and full of tears.
“That doesn’t-doesn’t even make any sense Dean.”
“Of course it does.”
Sam’s hand reached up and weakly gripped his shirt, the other one straying over the baby bump Dean had been denied for so long. “No it doesn’t.”
“Shut up.”
----
In some further miraculous intervention Sam allowed himself to be babied when they got back to the motel. He submitted to Dean carefully wiping the blood and filth off of him, and then held very still while Dean fulfilled his earlier urge and pressed his face into the swell of Sam’s tummy.
“Hello. Hello baby, I am your awesome Daddy. This other guy is pretty cool too, but I’m going to be your favorite.”
Sam’s hands hesitated, and then one settled on his shoulder while the other tangled with his hair. His brother didn’t say anything though.
“Your other Daddy was worried that you would be a bad surprise, but you’re not. You’re our little miracle. Our sweet little baby. We’re gonna spend our lives showing you how amazing you really are, and you’re gonna be so sick of us even though you’ll never get rid of us.”
Dean glanced up hesitantly, eyes following the soft curve of Sam’s stomach to the still defined lines of his chest and length of his neck before settling on the cant of the mole near his lips. Dean had mastered reading that mole, knowing how the angle of it related to Sam’s expression and being able to tell better from it than Sam’s mouth if he was happy or sad.
It was a good tilt.
“And when you’re old enough you and I are gonna make him so miserable. We’ll drive him nuts, and you know what? He’ll love us for it because he’s crazy, and he knows he earned it keeping you from me in the beginning there. But for us to enjoy that you gotta grow big and strong.” He pressed his face into Sam’s clean and sweet –smelling skin, could pick up on the trace of slick already leaking from Sam and knew that it meant his brother wasn’t just pleased with his reaction he was digging it in a big way.
“But for right now you go to sleep for a bit. Your crazy idiot father scared me, and now he’s gonna make it up to me.”
Dean knew that he had Sam. That if he played the “how could you” card or anything related to a guilt trip he would destroy his brother. A part of him wanted to. Wanted to remind his mate that despite how bad he was at openly communicating them Dean did have feelings, and thinking he would resent a baby devastated them.
So he knew all that, but he also knew Sam would do a better job of beating himself up than Dean ever would, and trying to help the process would only end with hurting both of them. Knowing he had the higher ground was better than pointing it out.
Instead of bawling Sammy out like he’d imagined Dean nosed the towel hanging loosely over Sam’s hips and clinging to the top curve of Sam’s ass, hands gently smoothing over the bump without Dean’s control.
The towel fell, and the smell of Sam washed over him, mixed with the dumping adrenaline from earlier, and sent Dean into some kind of head-spinning fugue that could only be cleared up by being buried inside his brother. His lips traveled along Sam’s muscular flank, hands still cupping and stroking their baby, and he licked and nipped his way to Sam’s half-hard cock.
“Dean. Dean, I’m sorry.” Sam’s voice was lust and regret, maybe tears, and Dean didn’t want that right now. He wanted to rub his smell all over Sam, reclaim every inch of his skin and remind him who he belonged to, and in turn who he completely owned.
“Sammy. Sammy look what you gave me.” He bypassed Sam’s cock for a minute, the alpha lust receding in the interest of caring for his omega. Instead he dragged his lips along the swell, buried his face there and took deep breaths. Now that he was looking for it, he could scent the pregnancy, the mix of their scents that told him he was there, he was a part of it, and God it was wonderful.
“But I-I lied and-and I’m sorry I’ve been such a shithead but I just didn’t know-“
A soft growl, and then a long kiss placed to the baby before Dean stood and kissed Sam.
“You did, and I’m gonna give you, like, eighty years of shit for it. But I can understand some of it, much as I don’t wanna admit that. I can forgive all of it though Sam. Because you love me, and you’re mine, and you gave us this gift.” He stroked Sam’s belly again, kissed tears off Sam’s cheeks, and then lifted his little brother up and carried him towards the bed.
It didn’t take long to settle Sammy on the center of the scratchy comforter, to picture for the first time what it would be like to have one bed that Sam always looked like this on, and then remember what he’d started just moments before. Staring at Sam wasn’t going to achieve any of his goals other than getting him kicked for being weird.
Dean kissed his way up Sam’s long legs, mouth pressing tenderly to the spots that had little bruises or scrapes, tongue laving muscle definition, and teeth scraping joints. Sam’s smell increased, slick producing heavily as he moaned and twisted under Dean’s manipulations.
“Sammy, Sammy you know I love you right?”
One long arm draped over his eyes as Sam shifted and then gasped when Dean nuzzled against his hard dick, taking a deep inhale of the sweet and musky scent of Sam’s arousal.
“Ye-yeah Dean.”
He slipped his tongue out, dragged the tip of it along the vein as his hands smoothed along Sam’s flanks and kneaded the muscles.
“You’re my world. You and our baby. You get that?”
Sam moaned when Dean opened his lips and slid slow and soft down Sam’s shaft. His tongue rubbed and stroked flesh as he sucked Sam down.
“I-oh Jesus Dean, please. Please.”
Dean pulled up a bit, released the head of Sam’s cock with a pop and flicked his tongue against it tasting the precome before he met Sam’s eyes.
“What Sammy? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Anything you ask for.”
“Would you, oh shit, open me with-with your tongue?”
He couldn’t help the predatory grin, fingers dancing along the inside of Sam’s taut thighs.
“And then Sammy?”
One slow slide, a finger scooping up some of Sam’s slick so that he could lick it off nice and thorough in Sam’s view.
“Kn-knot me. Claim me.”
And that was all Dean needed, the alpha rising up again as he hooked Sam’s knees over his shoulders and lifted them so that he could lick the slick off Sam’s thighs, the round cheeks of his ass, and then he used his hands to pull Sam open and lap at the source of the delicious slick.
Sam was gone already, fingers tangled in the sheets and body arching helplessly as Dean sucked and licked at the pretty pink hole that had only ever known him, and only ever would. One of his hands slid up to stroke Sam’s cock while his other set of fingers started to stretch Sam open, give his tongue more space to work.
Beyond words, Sam thrashed and cried, tangling the fingers of his left hand into Dean’s hair and pushing at the back of his head. It was heady, overwhelming, the smells and sounds of Sam taking all the pleasure Dean could give him.
His mate, the father of his child, twisted and turned on his tongue and fingers, opening up so beautifully that Dean was almost sure this was a dream that he never wanted to wake up from. The rest of the night was forgotten in the little whimpers coming from the back of Sam’s throat, and all the terror and rage was dropped in favor of the warm little bastion of safety he now had with his family.
Sam was tugging his hair, gasping, and Dean lifted his face and licked his own lips as Sam’s dark eyes met his.
“You gotta-oh shit Dean please. Knot me. Knot me before I come.”
Who could resist such a request? Dean slid up behind Sam and lifted one leg before angling his cock and sliding into Sam’s warm, tight ass.
“Sammy, Sammy, oh fuck I love you. Love this. Love our baby.” And maybe it was a little creepy but Dean cupped Sam’s stomach as he worked his hips until he was buried in Sam, knot swelling fast and pushing at the tight rim.
“You too Dean. I love you too.” Sam was grasping at his hand, trying to get a tight grip as he worked himself backwards.
It was almost there, knot fully swollen and pushing at the little bit of resistance Sam’s ass had left before he popped in and officially tied them. At the sensation of Dean stuck, emptying himself, Sam’s body arched and Dean felt the Sam’s release hit his hand as Sam tightened impossibly around him, ass milking his knot and grip almost breaking his hand.
Dean kissed the back of Sam’s head gently and settled in as he emptied himself inside of Sam.
----
“But what do we do now?”
Dean threaded his fingers through Sam’s shaggy hair, nose pressed firmly against the back of Sam’s neck and taking in every delicate change in the scent he knew so well. Sam loved ambushing him with conversation when they were knotted.
“We find a place we can go to keep you and baby safe.” His free hand slid down to settle on Sam’s belly, fingers stroking under his shirt against smooth skin. “You finish out high school, and then start looking for colleges again when we can do that and get by.”
Sam’s voice shook, and his fingers threaded with Dean’s. “You want me to look for colleges?”
“Sammy, I ain’t gonna be picking up a huge income. Far as I’m concerned if you wanna get some fancy degree that lets you pull down a big paycheck while I get to do something I like and hog baby time I’ll be more than fine with that.”
The fingers interlocked with his tightened for a moment, and then Sam snuggled deeper into him.
“Thank you.” It was choked, almost small, and Dean wondered how he’d missed so much.
“Sammy I understand that you’ve been feeling trapped, and that I wasn’t really…supportive of the idea of you shipping off. But that was when I thought it was just you. Now that I know that you want me coming too I-wait you do, right? Not just because of the baby but- I mean it’s fine if you don’t.”
He shifted, head turning until he was looking at Dean in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Is that some kind of cruel joke?”
“Oh what, you’re the only one who gets to be insecure sometimes?”
A small smile curled Sam’s lips, natural and real, and then he pressed his lips against Dean’s jaw. “Just sometimes?”
“Shut up.” He snuggled tighter, arms pulling Sam in as much as he could while his knot slowly deflated. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For making you think I wouldn’t pick you first. That you weren’t what mattered more than anything. I’m sorry I let you down Sammy.”
Sam tensed in his arms, and then he gripped Dean’s forearms tightly and spoke in a low and earnest voice.
“You didn’t let me down. I know how- I get that your relationship with Dad is complicated. I know you want him to be proud of you and that he’s your role model. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to find a way to not tell him this. We could say the baby is-“
His growl stopped Sam short.
“It’s my baby. No one will ever think different Sammy. If Dad reacts badly he reacts badly, but that’s my baby and you’re my mate and I’m not lying about that or letting you lie about it either. I’m not ashamed of you or our kid Sammy. You shouldn’t be either.”
Sam shifted once, a loud sniffle reaching Dean and making him tighten his grip.
“I don’t know how you can think you ever let down.”
And maybe he didn’t agree with that, but if Sam believed it Dean could try to get there. He could spend their lives living up to that faith in him, and one day when he deserved it he would relish in it. Until then it would be about proving to Sam what came first.
“So Sammy, where do you want to finish high school?”
Dean moaned when Sam shifted slightly and tightened around his knot.
“I think California would be nice.”
Author:
dimelioraWordcount: 4,840
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Warning(s): Slight violence, angst, mpreg, schmooooop, A/B/O, knotting, slight underage (Sam is 17)
Prompt(s): Sam is kidnapped by a shapeshifter who figures out that Sam just recently discovered he was pregnant and hasn't told Dean yet (either hasn't had the time or is scared of Dean's reaction). The Shapeshifter reveals it to Dean and revels in the fact he doesn't know.
Notes: Written for
mpreg_xmas_xchg, as a gift for the amazing, wonderful, talented jcrgirl, who deserved better, but got me. I adore you, and I only hope this makes you smile a little.Summary: Dean's had a bad week, but the revelation the shapeshifter is about to give him will only make it worse.
When he dropped out of high school four years earlier Dean had taken a fair amount of shit from Sam about the necessity of proper schooling. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart, a fact his brother reminded him of a million times, it was that the whole thing had seemed so arbitrary. What was the point of Euclidean whatevers when the world was full of monsters? What did the atomic weight of Barium have to do with saving humanity one son of a bitch at a time? In fact, if he was being honest, Dean had been pretty excellent in school when he applied himself, because his memory was flawless. Lists, trivia, names, and dates, all of them fell into a special category of memory that Dean excelled at because that sort of recitation was more than a little necessary in his chosen profession. And that ability was currently reminding him that the long list of rules he’d broken to end up in this situation weren’t really the kind he should have been breaking.
On the other hand, he was twenty-one as of yesterday, and while that had never stopped him before there was a certain pride in handing the bartender his fake ID tonight and knowing that in another life it would have been a real one. There was a real pleasure in getting completely trashed, grinning at the woman across the pool table who’d been checking his ass out all night, and tapping his foot to the beat of Led Zeppelin as he tried his best to forget the sullen teenager in the baggy hoodie back at the motel room that seemed to hate everything Dean Winchester these days.
So, rule one, leaving Sam, and rule two, getting wasted while on a hunt hadn’t seemed like the worst infractions to commit. His real birthday had been spent in library stacks and then getting the cold shoulder from his little brother for the entire day without even a mention of the celebration that was apparently once again going unnoticed. It didn’t help that Dad called in for three minutes to check on Sam and then remind Dean to look in the obituaries further back than ten years. Didn’t he deserve a goddamn celebration? Just a little bit of happiness in the middle of what was apparently total familial neglect?
Apparently not, if the shapeshifter crouched down in front of him contorting Sam’s familiar face into a totally unrecognizable and fairly evil smirk was any indication. In fact, Dean was pretty sure from now on he would just take everybody ignoring his birthday and be thankful, because fuck this.
“You’re gonna regret this.”
The creature tilted its head, Sam’s motion but not his expression. “Not as much as your brother. Locked in a cold damp place. Hope he can handle it. You know, in his condition.”
“What did you do to him you son of a bitch?”
The creature’s face curled even more, Sam’s lips twisted into a level of hate his little brother had never experienced.
“You know the funny thing about taking someone’s skin Dean? You get all their memories too. Everything that floats around inside their head is right there for you to flip through like a library. For example, I know that your little brother is afraid of clowns, that he’s got some seriously fucked up issues about being a freak, and that last summer when daddy wasn’t watching you and he mated.”
Dean froze, hands curled into a parody of violence in their metal shackles and firmly placed behind him.
“What?”
“That’s right, your gangly, awkward, omega brother is your mate. What’s a matter alpha, couldn’t get a normal one so you had to poach your brother?”
Dean had to swallow hard at that, and remind himself that if the thing was in Sam’s head then it knew the fears Dean had admitted to Sam before he’d finally agreed to mate him.
He forced a yawn, fingers flexing as he pulled at the seam of his sleeve cuff trying to get the lockpick out. Apparently “not telling Sam all his tricks” wasn’t on the list of mistakes.
“This the best you got? My sex life? You’re not gonna get very far dragging that out.”
The thing’s face flashed fury before the smug condescension settled back in. “How quickly you forget.”
But he didn’t. He didn’t forget that he’d left Sam here out of self-pity and spite, left his mate and headed off to the bar only to come back here too drunk to notice it wasn’t Sam greeting him before the sharp blow and then unconsciousness.
“Ok, fine, I’ll humor you. What’s your big attack? Sam secretly hates my cologne? He wants to buy a cat?”
And suddenly there the thing was, able to copy Sam to the minutest detail even the scent of his little brother. Except something was wrong, off, and Dean took a deep breath of it and listened to his brain screaming at his instincts to shut up even as the thing started talking again.
“Little Sammy has a secret.” Sing-song and hateful, and then the shapeshifter moved just out of touch and lifted Sam’s now trademark baggy hoodie to reveal a noticeable bump, too perfectly round and placed to be mistaken for regular weight gain.
It was a testament to how bad off Dean was that his first reaction, despite knowing that the thing wasn’t Sam and that it was only mocking his condition, was to crawl forward on his knees and press his face against their child.
Mentally, he added “unprotected sex with Sam during heats” to the list of rules he’d broken and was now suffering the consequences for.
An even worse sign then that he was overcome with rage when the thing touched that fake bump and laughed again. His fingers itched to pull faster, to pop the locks right the fuck now and then drop so much silver into the shapeshifter’s bloodstream that nothing would be left of it. But he had to go slow, because while Sam’s memories couldn’t supply it with his hiding spot they could certainly tell it what he looked like picking a lock.
“Why do you think he didn’t tell his big brother? His mate? Do you wanna know Dean?”
“Yeah, sure, and right after that maybe you could explain why he’s so goddamn particular about how his socks get folded. I’ve always fucking wondered that.”
The shapeshifter frowned again and then leaned in close.
“He knew you’d resent him. Resent that he didn’t warn you he felt the heat coming on so you could take precautions, hate him for making you leave the life, and most of all never forgive him for how your father is going to hate you when he finds out.”
And that? Despite knowing that it was blatant emotional manipulation, the words of a monster using the arsenal Sam had on him, Dean was set back on his heels for a second, gulping in air at the sheer amount of shit being dropped on him at once.
Because there was no doubt in his mind that Sam had thought all of those things.
Instead of answering he simply settled his gaze on the thing, fingers working fast and furious to hit the last spot necessary to pop the cuffs.
“I had a brother Dean. He actually used to live right in this very city. Know what happened to him? Your father came after him, hunted him down, and killed him in the fucking sewers like a dirty rat. And you helped him. So now, since your dad is an only child, I’ve put your brother in the same sewers. He’ll die slow, cold and alone, and clutching the baby that never should have been made.”
Pop.
There was another thing Dean hadn’t told Sam. The silver knife he’d strapped under the sink in the motel bathroom just in case. Sam tended to get mocking about Dean’s paranoia.
He wanted to take it slow, to make the thing suffer, but Sammy and his baby were somewhere in danger and doubting their worth, and Dean had a job to do.
Which meant he had to take what little satisfaction he could out of sinking the blade into the monster’s heart and watching him die quick before dropping the mess and quickly washing the blood off his hands. It didn’t take long to get presentable enough to head out.
----
When the deaths started popping up on their radar Dean had immediately remembered the last time they’d been here. He hadn’t been old enough to officially hunt, but he had been Dad’s backup. Which meant he’d been assigned research and then slipped his way into the hunt proper to both grudging approval and a severe chewing out.
He was fourteen, and it was his first shapeshifter. They’d caught the line of deaths, each one a little more drawn out and sadistic than the one before it, and each attributed to a loved one of the recently deceased. Dad had known what it was before they’d even crossed the county line, and Dean can still remember the overwhelming admiration and love he’d had for the man at the time. There was no question that his father was a hero, the kind of alpha Dean wanted to be one day, and if he could just help a little bit he could gain some of that status and glory. Maybe Sammy would look at him the way Dean looked at Dad.
Sam often accused him of being unable to recognize irony. As Dean popped the cap off the sewer access and grabbed the first rung of the ladder he couldn’t help the bitter laugh that specific memory evoked.
He’d known, even then, that his relationship with Sam wasn’t entirely what it should have been. There was a protectiveness there that couldn’t be explained simply by the familial bond, or the natural alpha urge to shelter an omega. When they had to share a bed Dean would find himself sliding up too close, taking too many breaths of Sam’s distinctive smell, and every time he caught himself doing it he just did it more.
Sure, in the end it was Sam that crossed the line, that pushed and pushed until Dean couldn’t say no and couldn’t turn away, but that didn’t change the fact that Dean had known on some level since he popped his first knot that Sam was the only omega for him. That one day his control was gonna break, and it would end with his teeth in his brother’s skin and his knot firmly locked into Sammy’s ass.
He knew that Sam thought his hesitation was over the incest angle, and it probably should have been, but in reality Dean’s concern had been that Sam deserved better, and Dean was only his first choice because Sam had been locked in rooms with him since he was six months old. Granted, their dad’s opinion mattered to him somewhat, but despite Sam’s belief that Dean’s entire life was based around Dad’s marching orders if it came down to a choice there wasn’t ever going to be any hesitation.
Dean had held out against it as long as he could, waiting for Sam to try for someone else even as he prayed it wouldn’t happen. Then it did, and once he had Sam that was it for him. It opened doors Dean had never dreamed of, allowed him to see the world in new ways, and that change in perspective had been everything.
There was still tension over their differing opinions on hunting and how important it was, Dean still wished Sam would try just a little bit harder to see Dad’s point of view, and every now and then he still busted Sammy’s balls, because brothers, but at the end of the day as long as Dad wasn’t in the room with them it was always Dean curled around his gangly little brother, face buried in the base of his neck taking in every nuance of Sam’s scent.
How had he missed that Sam was pregnant?
The tunnels spread out in front of him, and Dean reverted entirely to instinct and memory as he wound his way deeper into the earth and ruminated on how they’d gotten there. How he’d failed so badly that Sam didn’t realize what a fucking miracle it was that he was carrying their baby inside of him. That he was extending their little family one more person.
Yeah, they hadn’t planned it, and there were going to be serious consequences, but the fact that Sam could doubt his devotion for even a moment said more about how badly he’d messed up as Sam’s alpha than he ever dreamed he could. This wasn’t a fight about who got the last of the Chef Boyardee or whether or not Dean was still allowed to noogie Sam when he was feeling frisky.
It was a baby. Theirs. Growing inside Sam and carrying both of their genetics as it developed. Their baby. When he got Sam untied and out of danger, scrubbed the smell of the sewer and the dark off his skin, and then bitched him out until Dean’s voice failed then he would spend hours with his face pressed against his mate’s stomach telling both Sammy and their child that there was nothing that would ever come before them. That he had never dreamed he could be given such a gift, and that he would happily spend the rest of his life nurturing and loving both of them.
But first, the rescuing and then the bitching out.
One last turn, and there Sam was. Even in the dim light Dean could make out the smudges of dirt mixed with the bruising of a beating. Sam’s left eye was partially closed, lip encrusted with blood and dirt, and body slack and hanging from a pipe. Dean sloshed his way through the disgusting water and then slipped his lockpicks back out before starting to work on the shackles holding Sam up. His mate didn’t even stir as Dean popped the locks and caught Sam on his way down.
It was easy to hitch him up, bridal style, and then carry him back towards the entrance ladder and the exit to the Impala.
Sam being unconscious was no barrier to Dean starting the conversation they’d be having again once he awoke.
“You idiot. You big, stupid, crazy, idiot. You know how bad you scared me? I get that the wards didn’t hold him out, but goddamn it Sam was that really how I had to find out? Through a shapeshifter? How little you think of me that it seemed like a good idea to-and Jesus Sammy what were you gonna do when those hoodies of yours weren’t gonna cut it anymore?”
“Tell you I over ate.” It was weak, hazy, but it meant Sam was awake, and the snark meant he was ok.
“I’ve seen the way you eat. Wouldn’t explain that sort of weight gain. Dummy.”
Sam’s face twisted, mouth pursing, but his head tilted so that it was pressed more firmly against Dean’s shoulder.
“You would’ve fallen for it.”
“Sammy, I only got so much left in me. I’d suggest you make all your jokes worthwhile.”
His brother’s mouth smoothed out, and then very hesitantly Sam’s voice carried over the echo of Dean’s footsteps and the liquid splashing against the stone walls to cut straight into Dean’s heart.
“So you are angry?”
Dean had never been good at staying firm when Sam sounded like that, lost and little.
“Oh yeah. I’m fucking furious. Know why? Because you ruined my birthday to keep me from seeing your baby bump. You know how much money you could have saved on the present you shoulda bought me if you just showed me that little miracle?”
Sam’s voice came back shaky and full of tears.
“That doesn’t-doesn’t even make any sense Dean.”
“Of course it does.”
Sam’s hand reached up and weakly gripped his shirt, the other one straying over the baby bump Dean had been denied for so long. “No it doesn’t.”
“Shut up.”
----
In some further miraculous intervention Sam allowed himself to be babied when they got back to the motel. He submitted to Dean carefully wiping the blood and filth off of him, and then held very still while Dean fulfilled his earlier urge and pressed his face into the swell of Sam’s tummy.
“Hello. Hello baby, I am your awesome Daddy. This other guy is pretty cool too, but I’m going to be your favorite.”
Sam’s hands hesitated, and then one settled on his shoulder while the other tangled with his hair. His brother didn’t say anything though.
“Your other Daddy was worried that you would be a bad surprise, but you’re not. You’re our little miracle. Our sweet little baby. We’re gonna spend our lives showing you how amazing you really are, and you’re gonna be so sick of us even though you’ll never get rid of us.”
Dean glanced up hesitantly, eyes following the soft curve of Sam’s stomach to the still defined lines of his chest and length of his neck before settling on the cant of the mole near his lips. Dean had mastered reading that mole, knowing how the angle of it related to Sam’s expression and being able to tell better from it than Sam’s mouth if he was happy or sad.
It was a good tilt.
“And when you’re old enough you and I are gonna make him so miserable. We’ll drive him nuts, and you know what? He’ll love us for it because he’s crazy, and he knows he earned it keeping you from me in the beginning there. But for us to enjoy that you gotta grow big and strong.” He pressed his face into Sam’s clean and sweet –smelling skin, could pick up on the trace of slick already leaking from Sam and knew that it meant his brother wasn’t just pleased with his reaction he was digging it in a big way.
“But for right now you go to sleep for a bit. Your crazy idiot father scared me, and now he’s gonna make it up to me.”
Dean knew that he had Sam. That if he played the “how could you” card or anything related to a guilt trip he would destroy his brother. A part of him wanted to. Wanted to remind his mate that despite how bad he was at openly communicating them Dean did have feelings, and thinking he would resent a baby devastated them.
So he knew all that, but he also knew Sam would do a better job of beating himself up than Dean ever would, and trying to help the process would only end with hurting both of them. Knowing he had the higher ground was better than pointing it out.
Instead of bawling Sammy out like he’d imagined Dean nosed the towel hanging loosely over Sam’s hips and clinging to the top curve of Sam’s ass, hands gently smoothing over the bump without Dean’s control.
The towel fell, and the smell of Sam washed over him, mixed with the dumping adrenaline from earlier, and sent Dean into some kind of head-spinning fugue that could only be cleared up by being buried inside his brother. His lips traveled along Sam’s muscular flank, hands still cupping and stroking their baby, and he licked and nipped his way to Sam’s half-hard cock.
“Dean. Dean, I’m sorry.” Sam’s voice was lust and regret, maybe tears, and Dean didn’t want that right now. He wanted to rub his smell all over Sam, reclaim every inch of his skin and remind him who he belonged to, and in turn who he completely owned.
“Sammy. Sammy look what you gave me.” He bypassed Sam’s cock for a minute, the alpha lust receding in the interest of caring for his omega. Instead he dragged his lips along the swell, buried his face there and took deep breaths. Now that he was looking for it, he could scent the pregnancy, the mix of their scents that told him he was there, he was a part of it, and God it was wonderful.
“But I-I lied and-and I’m sorry I’ve been such a shithead but I just didn’t know-“
A soft growl, and then a long kiss placed to the baby before Dean stood and kissed Sam.
“You did, and I’m gonna give you, like, eighty years of shit for it. But I can understand some of it, much as I don’t wanna admit that. I can forgive all of it though Sam. Because you love me, and you’re mine, and you gave us this gift.” He stroked Sam’s belly again, kissed tears off Sam’s cheeks, and then lifted his little brother up and carried him towards the bed.
It didn’t take long to settle Sammy on the center of the scratchy comforter, to picture for the first time what it would be like to have one bed that Sam always looked like this on, and then remember what he’d started just moments before. Staring at Sam wasn’t going to achieve any of his goals other than getting him kicked for being weird.
Dean kissed his way up Sam’s long legs, mouth pressing tenderly to the spots that had little bruises or scrapes, tongue laving muscle definition, and teeth scraping joints. Sam’s smell increased, slick producing heavily as he moaned and twisted under Dean’s manipulations.
“Sammy, Sammy you know I love you right?”
One long arm draped over his eyes as Sam shifted and then gasped when Dean nuzzled against his hard dick, taking a deep inhale of the sweet and musky scent of Sam’s arousal.
“Ye-yeah Dean.”
He slipped his tongue out, dragged the tip of it along the vein as his hands smoothed along Sam’s flanks and kneaded the muscles.
“You’re my world. You and our baby. You get that?”
Sam moaned when Dean opened his lips and slid slow and soft down Sam’s shaft. His tongue rubbed and stroked flesh as he sucked Sam down.
“I-oh Jesus Dean, please. Please.”
Dean pulled up a bit, released the head of Sam’s cock with a pop and flicked his tongue against it tasting the precome before he met Sam’s eyes.
“What Sammy? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Anything you ask for.”
“Would you, oh shit, open me with-with your tongue?”
He couldn’t help the predatory grin, fingers dancing along the inside of Sam’s taut thighs.
“And then Sammy?”
One slow slide, a finger scooping up some of Sam’s slick so that he could lick it off nice and thorough in Sam’s view.
“Kn-knot me. Claim me.”
And that was all Dean needed, the alpha rising up again as he hooked Sam’s knees over his shoulders and lifted them so that he could lick the slick off Sam’s thighs, the round cheeks of his ass, and then he used his hands to pull Sam open and lap at the source of the delicious slick.
Sam was gone already, fingers tangled in the sheets and body arching helplessly as Dean sucked and licked at the pretty pink hole that had only ever known him, and only ever would. One of his hands slid up to stroke Sam’s cock while his other set of fingers started to stretch Sam open, give his tongue more space to work.
Beyond words, Sam thrashed and cried, tangling the fingers of his left hand into Dean’s hair and pushing at the back of his head. It was heady, overwhelming, the smells and sounds of Sam taking all the pleasure Dean could give him.
His mate, the father of his child, twisted and turned on his tongue and fingers, opening up so beautifully that Dean was almost sure this was a dream that he never wanted to wake up from. The rest of the night was forgotten in the little whimpers coming from the back of Sam’s throat, and all the terror and rage was dropped in favor of the warm little bastion of safety he now had with his family.
Sam was tugging his hair, gasping, and Dean lifted his face and licked his own lips as Sam’s dark eyes met his.
“You gotta-oh shit Dean please. Knot me. Knot me before I come.”
Who could resist such a request? Dean slid up behind Sam and lifted one leg before angling his cock and sliding into Sam’s warm, tight ass.
“Sammy, Sammy, oh fuck I love you. Love this. Love our baby.” And maybe it was a little creepy but Dean cupped Sam’s stomach as he worked his hips until he was buried in Sam, knot swelling fast and pushing at the tight rim.
“You too Dean. I love you too.” Sam was grasping at his hand, trying to get a tight grip as he worked himself backwards.
It was almost there, knot fully swollen and pushing at the little bit of resistance Sam’s ass had left before he popped in and officially tied them. At the sensation of Dean stuck, emptying himself, Sam’s body arched and Dean felt the Sam’s release hit his hand as Sam tightened impossibly around him, ass milking his knot and grip almost breaking his hand.
Dean kissed the back of Sam’s head gently and settled in as he emptied himself inside of Sam.
----
“But what do we do now?”
Dean threaded his fingers through Sam’s shaggy hair, nose pressed firmly against the back of Sam’s neck and taking in every delicate change in the scent he knew so well. Sam loved ambushing him with conversation when they were knotted.
“We find a place we can go to keep you and baby safe.” His free hand slid down to settle on Sam’s belly, fingers stroking under his shirt against smooth skin. “You finish out high school, and then start looking for colleges again when we can do that and get by.”
Sam’s voice shook, and his fingers threaded with Dean’s. “You want me to look for colleges?”
“Sammy, I ain’t gonna be picking up a huge income. Far as I’m concerned if you wanna get some fancy degree that lets you pull down a big paycheck while I get to do something I like and hog baby time I’ll be more than fine with that.”
The fingers interlocked with his tightened for a moment, and then Sam snuggled deeper into him.
“Thank you.” It was choked, almost small, and Dean wondered how he’d missed so much.
“Sammy I understand that you’ve been feeling trapped, and that I wasn’t really…supportive of the idea of you shipping off. But that was when I thought it was just you. Now that I know that you want me coming too I-wait you do, right? Not just because of the baby but- I mean it’s fine if you don’t.”
He shifted, head turning until he was looking at Dean in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Is that some kind of cruel joke?”
“Oh what, you’re the only one who gets to be insecure sometimes?”
A small smile curled Sam’s lips, natural and real, and then he pressed his lips against Dean’s jaw. “Just sometimes?”
“Shut up.” He snuggled tighter, arms pulling Sam in as much as he could while his knot slowly deflated. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For making you think I wouldn’t pick you first. That you weren’t what mattered more than anything. I’m sorry I let you down Sammy.”
Sam tensed in his arms, and then he gripped Dean’s forearms tightly and spoke in a low and earnest voice.
“You didn’t let me down. I know how- I get that your relationship with Dad is complicated. I know you want him to be proud of you and that he’s your role model. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to find a way to not tell him this. We could say the baby is-“
His growl stopped Sam short.
“It’s my baby. No one will ever think different Sammy. If Dad reacts badly he reacts badly, but that’s my baby and you’re my mate and I’m not lying about that or letting you lie about it either. I’m not ashamed of you or our kid Sammy. You shouldn’t be either.”
Sam shifted once, a loud sniffle reaching Dean and making him tighten his grip.
“I don’t know how you can think you ever let down.”
And maybe he didn’t agree with that, but if Sam believed it Dean could try to get there. He could spend their lives living up to that faith in him, and one day when he deserved it he would relish in it. Until then it would be about proving to Sam what came first.
“So Sammy, where do you want to finish high school?”
Dean moaned when Sam shifted slightly and tightened around his knot.
“I think California would be nice.”
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no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 05:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 08:25 pm (UTC)What a fantastic Christmas present. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the bottom of my little heart.
All love and much hugs
no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 10:41 pm (UTC)So glad you liked it honey, and thanks so much! Protective Dean and Hurt Sam. *______*
Merry Christmas, and just sorry it was so late!! Love and hugs to you too!
no subject
Date: 2014-01-09 02:05 pm (UTC)Insecure, snarky, emotional Dean. Oh how I love it!
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Date: 2014-02-27 09:32 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked this honey! Thanks for commenting!
Edition #36
Date: 2014-01-09 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-10 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-27 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-27 09:35 pm (UTC)All protective and proud and he would just love them no matter...
Excuse me all my flailing has made typing hard.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-10 07:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-27 09:35 pm (UTC)I'm so very glad you liked it. Thank you for reading and commenting!
no subject
Date: 2014-01-10 04:14 pm (UTC)so glad to see you posting fic!!!!
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Date: 2014-02-27 09:36 pm (UTC)Thanks for snuggling. :)
no subject
Date: 2014-01-23 06:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-27 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-26 01:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-27 09:37 pm (UTC)