HAPPY BIRTHDAY TWIN OHGOD I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ;3;
Title: The Mighty King’s Reward
Author: earth_heart
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Warnings: Werecat!Castiel, werecat!Dean, mpreg, mild violence, self-lubrication
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. It belongs to Kripke and the CW/WB. I make no profit from this story.
Summary: For highermagic, who requested trying-for-a-baby!birthday fic. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BB I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. ;3; Follows “Tell Me Again of the Might of Kings” and “Repercussions of a Mighty King’s Falsehoods”
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Dean felt his stomach flutter and frowned, putting a hand over his abs. No, not his stomach… It felt lower, a kind of flutter that made his stomach twist up; bile rising in his throat. He just managed to make it to the bathroom before he puked, that bile burning his throat and making his eyes water. He heard Castiel’s soft growl before a warm hand cupped the back of his neck, fingers twining into his hair and long claws scratching at his scalp with surprising gentleness.
“Dean?”
“I’m okay,” he coughed, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He leaned back into his mate’s gentle actions, closing his green eyes and grimacing in distaste. Standing, he flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash his mouth out. Castiel stayed close, claws retracted, but his hand still on the younger man’s head.
“Dean,” he rumbled, finally taking his hand away. “This is the third day in a row. You shouldn’t be sick-our immune systems are incredibly powerful.” His mate sounded angry, but he could just detect a hint of concern. Castiel didn’t show his emotions well, but he did love Dean, and they both knew it. Even Sam knew it, though it had taken his brother a long time to come to terms with what they were, and their relationship.
Speaking of Sam, he was probably awake by now. They should meet up with him and go out for some breakfast. He found himself hungry, even though he’d just puked his guts up less than five minutes ago. “I’m fine,” he promised his mate, nudging Castiel’s shoulder with his own. “Come on, let’s go get Sam. I’m hungry.”
Castiel’s blue eyes were storm-dark, but he just nodded and followed after Dean. Sam was indeed awake, and already outside. He smiled at when he saw them, though it was more guarded when he looked at the older werecat. Sighing when he saw the expression on his little brother’s face, Dean knocked shoulders with him, too, and then shoved him toward the Impala.
“Come on, dork face,” he rumbled. “Your older brother and his significant other are starving. I call driver’s seat.”
“Shotgun,” Castiel added, and Sam pouted like a child but obediently climbed into the backseat. There was a diner just down the road, and that’s where they went. It was small and cramped, but surprisingly clean and homey. Still, Dean let his mate herd him toward a booth in the corner, putting his back against the wall and sitting beside him while Sam sat across from them with his back to the door.
“Really?” he bitched, looking at them both. “Do you always have to do this?”
“I’m protecting our backs,” Castiel growled, narrowing his stormy eyes at Sam. “At least this way, I’ll be able to see if anything or anyone dangerous comes in and warn you.” Sam really had nothing to say to that, so he just bitch-faced at them both and picked up his menu. Dean winced at the tension in the air, wishing there was some way he could get the two of them to like one another a little more. Right now they balanced somewhere between tolerance and barely-concealed hostility. Part of Sam would never forgive Castiel for turning his brother.
Dean’s stomach growled loudly, and he picked up his own menu to look at it. So many things looked good. He was really hungry. Beside him, his mate looked at his own menu, and when the waitress finally got around to taking their orders, the older werecat went first.
“I’ll take the bacon special with extra bacon and well-done eggs,” he rumbled. “No toast, please, and an orange juice.”
Well, that had been a simple one. Dean let Sam go next, because he still couldn’t figure out what he wanted. His brother ordered two pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. It was Dean’s turn now, and he bit at his lower lip and chewed on it before smiling sheepishly.
“I’ll have the stack of pancakes with a side of honey ham, and, uh, an order of your eggs. Scrambled please. Oh, and an orange juice for me as well.”
The waitress nodded, giving them all a warm smile before she hustled off to give their order to the cook. Dean felt eyes on him and turned to look at Sam and Castiel. They were both staring at him, Sam’s eyes wide and Castiel’s narrowed. His mate looked like he was thinking hard about something.
“What?” Dean asked defensively. “I’m hungry.” They both continued to stare at him and he scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m allowed to be hungry.”
“No one said you weren’t,” Castiel purred, running his fingers through Dean’s hair again and allowing his claws to come out just enough so that he could scratch his mate’s head and make him sigh in bliss. Resting his head on the table, Dean let out a happy murr as his eyes slid half-way shut. He could still see Sam, who was looking at them both with a complicated expression on his face.
When their food came, Dean dug in enthusiastically, shoveling food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. His felt the flutter in his abdomen again, but he didn’t get sick this time. He just made a disgruntled face before ignoring it and scooping up a heaping forkful of eggs. Beside him, Castiel was eating much more daintily, cutting his food into small, precise little pieces before eating each one. Sam was just as graceful about eating his own food. Neither of them commented on Dean’s eating habits.
Once they were all finished, they paid their check-well, Sam did-and left. Dean slid into the driver’s seat and smiled when Castiel let Sam sit in the front passenger’s seat. The werecat slid into the back seat and leaned back against the seat, closing his blue eyes and appearing to sink into a meditative state. The brothers looked at each other, grinning, and then the phone rang and they were off.
“Sounds like vampires,” Dean murmured, leaning over the table and looking down at the information Bobby had gathered. Castiel stood beside him, stiff-backed, with his clawed hands curled into fists. The oldest hunter was glaring at him-clearly, he wasn’t as accepting as Sam-with a shotgun laying across his lap.
“Maybe,” he grunted, waving a hand. “’S what I figured too, but I wanted you boys to come and take a look to make sure I had them nailed right. So, now that we have a pretty good idea of what they are, what are we going to do about them?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Sam asked, arching an eyebrow and looking at the stony expression on Castiel’s face, and then Dean’s much calmer, but still tense, one. “We go in and see, and if they’re vampires, we take them out. They’ve already killed six people.”
“Agreed,” Castiel growled. He clearly hated vampires, though Dean had never asked him why. Rubbing at the mating mark on the back of his neck, he eyed his mate before looking at his brother and Bobby. They both stared back at him, calm and level-headed.
“Well,” he chirped, his grin a little toothy, “what are we waiting for? Let’s get these fuckers.”
His mate nodded sharply, leaving the room, and only then did Bobby relax. He didn’t say anything, though, because they all knew that Castiel would be able to hear him if he did. That, and Dean wouldn’t stand for anyone slandering his mate. It had taken Bobby some time to get used to Dean being a werecat, but his love for the younger hunter won out in the end. Still, that didn’t mean he had to like the one who’d turned him, whether they were mates or not. It stung slightly, but Dean was used to it by now. It had been nearly two years since Sam had found out and Castiel had joined up with them. They just needed more time.
“Are we going to stand here fisting ourselves, or are we going to go and kill these vampires?” Castiel growled from the next room. “I’d like to get this over with as quickly and prudently as possible, if you don’t mind.” That was Castiel, always tripping the line between human and supernatural, his true self coming to the surface more often than not. Dean loved him for it, but he could tell by the way Bobby’s eyes flashed that the older hunter wasn’t happy about those words.
“Come on, guys,” he mumbled, following loyally after his mate. Sam came up behind him, and Bobby brought up the rear. They readied their ammo and stakes, checked their weapons for any imperfections, and hit the road. It was only a short drive from Bobby’s house to the barn where they suspected the vampires were hiding. Dean parked a good distance away and stepped out of the car. In an instant Castiel was behind him, breathing heavily against the nape of his neck. Sharp teeth scraped over the mating mark, and he shivered.
“We fight them in our true forms,” the older werecat growled, and Dean nodded. They both stripped while Bobby and Sam went to secure the perimeter. Changing was freeing for Dean now, no longer a burden to do. He slid seamlessly from human to his werecat form, lifting his head and scenting the air with his big, dark nose. The lion rumbled lowly, catching the scent of their prey, and beside him, Castiel’s snow leopard form almost seemed to glimmer in the light. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Dean realized he was taller than Castiel now, his mane more filled out, but that didn’t matter. He knew his place, so when those sharp blue eyes turned to him he lowered his head obediently and stepped back.
They heard a bird call-Sam’s all-clear-and loped forward. The four of them advanced, but it was Castiel and Dean who reached the barn first. They burst through the doors with twin roars, Dean’s much louder but his mate’s no less vicious, and immediately attacked while the vampires scrambled around in surprise. Their blood stained his muzzle soon enough as he ripped through them, lunging for throats and closing his powerful teeth around their necks; tearing head from shoulders with a bite down and a forceful tug. He and Castiel were the front wave, taking out the vampires or just injuring them enough that they couldn’t escape Sam and Bobby when they came through with the stakes and the shotguns.
It was over surprisingly fast, bodies strewn everywhere and blood covering the two werecats. Dean licked his lips and then curled them back to expose bloody teeth, making a displeased face at the acidic burn of the vampires’ blood. Changing back to his human form, he started spitting, trying to rid himself of the horrible flavor. Sam handed him a bottle of water, not even phased by his nudity, and he took a long swig; swirling it around in his mouth before spitting.
If the blood bothered Castiel, he gave no sign of it. The snow leopard had hopped up into one of the beds and was cleaning the blood from his fur, as calm as anything. His blue eyes were fixed on Dean, though, burning with a hunger that the hunter knew very well by now. When they got back to the motel, or hell, even Bobby’s house, he was going to get fucked good and proper. Killing always did that to Castiel-raised his bloodlust and his lust in general. Dean was the same way, though, standing with his back to Sam so his brother couldn’t see his erection.
“Get dressed and let’s get the hell outta here,” Bobby grunted, leaving the barn. Sam followed after him, casting a worried look at Dean. He smiled at his brother over his shoulder, waving a hand, and when they were both out of the barn Castiel changed back and led the way back to their clothes. They got dressed quickly, their clothes becoming damp from the blood still slicking their skin, and headed back to the Impala.
“You want it, don’t you,” Castiel snarled, slamming Dean back up against the door as soon as it was shut behind him. He whined high in his throat and nodded, turning his head to the side to expose the long line of his neck to his mate. The older werecat bit down hard enough to sting, but not so hard that he drew blood. The mark would fade soon enough, and besides, they were both too worked up for foreplay. Turning them, Castiel shoved Dean toward the bed and knocked his feet out from under him, sending the younger male tumbling back onto the mattress.
“Cas,” Dean panted, ripping his clothes in his haste to get out of them. He could feel slickness between his thighs, which was entirely new and confusing, but right now he was too turned on to care. As soon as he was naked he spread his legs and Castiel settled between them, running his fingers through the slick on Dean’s thighs and bringing it up to his face to sniff it. His blue eyes lit up with understanding and a dark smile curled across his lips.
“You want me, Dean?” His voice was low, hypnotic, and when Dean nodded he thrust two fingers right into the younger creature, making his back bow and a lusty cry leave his lips. He felt so open, so wet, and it felt so good. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was so consumed by his lust that all he could do was whimper.
“Cas,” he begged, rolling his hips to try and get his mate’s fingers deeper. “Cas, what’s happening?”
“You’re changing, Dean,” his mate purred, already lining himself up and pushing deep into the younger werecat with one forceful snap of his hips. “Your body is adapting to your role. Wouldn’t you like to be heavy with my cubs, Dean?” He emphasized his question with several rough thrusts. Dean’s claws dug into the bed, ripping long gouges in it, as his back arched and he howled in pleasure. “Wouldn’t you like that, Dean? I’ll breed you so full, keep you bred always. You’ll have litter after litter of our cubs. You’d be such a good mother to them. Would you like that?”
“Yes!” Dean cried out, his orgasm ripping through him like lightning. His toes curled, digging more holes into the bed, and he threw an arm around Castiel’s back to drag him down into a forceful kiss. He let his mate dominate his mouth, pleasuring and giving pleasure equally as he squeezed down around Castiel’s cock to try and milk him for his orgasm. It was so wet, so messy, their joining making slick, suction-like noises every time his mate pulled out before thrusting back in.
“Good boy,” Castiel rasped, purring and nuzzling at the hunter’s cheek as he finally came; filling up his mate with his release. They stayed joined together even after he’d gone soft, sharing biting kisses. Dean scratched lines down his mate’s back that healed up almost right away. His body felt like it was on fire, burning him up from the inside out. Sweat slicked his skin, and he was already hard again where he was trapped between their bodies; smearing pre-come across Castiel’s stomach and his own as it drooled from his dick. He wasn’t the only one, though. He could feel the older werecat getting hard again inside of him, his hips moving in quick, rough thrusts that jabbed him deep inside of Dean and scraped over his prostate-making him roar.
“Gonna breed you so full, Dean,” he snarled, and they both came embarrassingly quickly the second time around; Dean marking up their stomachs and chests while Castiel spilled inside of him again, making even more of a mess. They curled up together on the bed, back to chest, and Dean stroked his stomach as he quickly fell into a sated slumber. Little did he know, Castiel stayed awake, looking at Dean’s stomach for a long time before he slid out of bed and got dressed to go and find a place that would make a suitable den for his mate, even if he had to make one himself.
Sam had freaked out at first, complete with girlish squealing and a lot of hand flailing. Bobby had to be physically restrained from shooting Castiel, who had just smirked at the man as though he were saying Try it, I just dare you. Dean, surprisingly, was the most calm of them all. As his stomach swelled, he felt more and more calm. He loved laying in bed and stroking his growing bulge. Sometimes he thought he could feel the cubs moving, little flutters as they shifted inside of his new womb and fought for space as they grew.
Castiel had become like a lamb once Dean was pregnant, snarling at any who dared come close to his mate in the shed he’d moved them to but stroking Dean’s stomach with such gentleness and care, his eyes liquid blue and so full of satisfaction and love.
“I can’t believe this actually happened,” Dean mumbled one day, sitting propped against the headboard and looking at the den that was quickly becoming a home to him. Castiel had cleared out all of the tools, swept it, and even hauled in a small wood stove to keep them warm and to cook meals on. They’d barely left their den once Dean started showing.
“It’s very rare,” Castiel agreed from where he was laying with his head on Dean’s stomach, his long fingers gently stroking over the distended flesh. “I hadn’t known it was possible until you started getting sick. Even then, I didn’t actually figure it out until the night we mated and your body produced the slick. It was almost like you were in heat, only not quite, and I knew we could make this happen. You’ll be such a wonderful mother.”
Perhaps the oddest part of all of it for Dean was the fact that he now had four new rows of nipples down his abdomen. Castiel had assured him that it was normal, and every once and a while he would touch them like he touched Dean’s stomach, awe and ferocious pride in his eyes.
Several weeks into the pregnancy-your gestation will be like a normal lion’s, Dean-Sam knocked on the door and poked his head in. Castiel growled at first, lifting himself over Dean’s sleeping form, which of course woke him up. He opened his eyes in time to see his brother hold up both hands to show he was harmless. “Sam?”
“Just wanted to check in on you,” the younger hunter murmured, looking at Dean’s swollen stomach and then his face. “Can I… Can I touch it?”
“Sure,” Dean slurred lazily, his smile still sleepy as he gently pushed Castiel back into a sitting position so his brother could approach. Large, broad hands touched his stomach, and Dean felt the familiar fluttering of one of the cubs moving. Sam must have felt it too, because his eyes went wide and soft, a happy smile crossing his face. He stroked over Dean’s stomach, pressing gently here and there before finally pulling away.
“I can’t believe this, Dean,” he whispered, looking at his brother. “Never in a million years would I have believed this, if I hadn’t seen it for myself. You know, Bobby wants to see you too. He promises not to bring his shotgun. He just wants to see them.”
“He may,” Castiel rumbled, replacing Sam’s hands with his own and rubbing his mate’s stomach now that his brother’s hands were gone. Dean smiled at the dark-haired werecat, sleepy and content, and nodded in agreement. He dozed off again, and came to when Bobby’s gruff voice rang in his ears and tough, weathered hands touched his stomach tentatively.
“Not gonna break,” he mumbled sleepily, and he heard Bobby chuckle. It sounded oddly choked, but those hands came back again, pressing a little harder until Dean squirmed and let out a soft sigh. “See? ‘S okay.”
“Only you, Dean,” Bobby said gruffly. “Only would you get turned into a werecat and then get knocked up. When are they due?”
“Three more weeks,” Castiel said quietly. He wasn’t tense for once, with the elder hunter around. In fact, he was almost ridiculously at ease; lounging beside Dean and stroking a hand up and down his side. “His gestation period is more like a lion’s, but he’s still progressing faster than I thought he would. So three more weeks, give or take.”
“Can’t wait,” Dean purred, tilting his head back to lean it against Castiel’s chest. “So excited.”
Castiel didn’t say anything, but his fingers kept stroking up and down Dean’s side gently, and every once and a while they would curl around the swell of Dean’s stomach. Bobby was still touching him, and their fingers would bump against each other every now and then, but neither man said anything about it. The den was quiet, but it was a calm silence. There was no tension, no crackling of anger through the air. All was peaceful.
Dean fell asleep surrounded by his mate and the two men he trusted the most in the world, his nose brushing against Castiel’s collarbone. He licked it once, purring harder, and then truly sank into his dreams. Soon he wouldn’t be able to get this much sleep, with a litter to take care of, so he was soaking it up while he still could. With Castiel by his side, though, he knew he had nothing to worry about.