Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
Believe it or not, I have actually been writing. Just. Not dragonfic /o\. Will get back to that soon, I swear, but for now, have some holiday fic I wrote for people!
Title: Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1800
Warnings: ridiculous amounts of schmoop, domesticity, implied mpreg, implied male lactation, alpha/beta/omega society, established!relationship, nice!knows!john, you are going to lose all respect for me as a writer when you read this schmoopfest
Summary: The Winchesters celebrate Christmas as a family.
written for lexicale's stocking on fandom_stocking.
“Daddy,” a harsh whisper right next to Dean’s ear pierced through his slumber. He tried to ignore it, snuggling a little closer to Sam, nose tucked into his mate’s hair.
A small hand pushed at Dean’s shoulder urgently. “Daddy.”
“Go back to sleep, Nicky,” he grumbled in response. “It’s not even daytime yet.”
“Daddy,” Nicky said again, a little louder now, “Santa came!”
And, yeah, Dean knew that Santa came. Dean knew that Santa came because he and his father were up until two in the morning wrapping Nicholas and Alexis’ Christmas presents last night. “Nicky, I swear, the presents will still be there at noon.”
There was a pause and then a soft, sad, “Okay, Daddy,” that made Dean feel like a jackass.
He slid his arm from around Sam’s waist and rolled over in his family’s nest to face his four year old omega pup, who was looking down at his socked feet sadly. Dean reached out, and wrapped his arm around Nicky, pulling him closer to him, his face nuzzling into his son’s neck. “Go get Mommy up, but be quiet. The baby is still sleeping.”
Nicky’s face lit up, and he turned in Dean’s arms, breaking free and running to the other side of the mattress. Dean turned to watch as Nicky climbs up onto the mattress and curled next to Sam, his tiny hands grabbing into his mother’s shirt. “Mommy,” he whispers, “Mommy, wake up.”
Sam stired to the sound of their pup calling him, and he blearily blinked his eyes open. He raised his face from where it was nuzzled into their seven month old daughter’s hair, smiling when his eyes focused on Dean.
“Morning,” Dean said, voice still a little gravelly with sleep. “You got a monkey on your back for Christmas. Congrats.”
Sam huffed a laugh, shaking his head and reaching back behind him, and ruffling his hair. “Morning, Nicholas.”
“Mommy, Santa came!”
Sam smiled knowingly at Dean and stretched up, kissing him softly. “Yeah? Did he eat that piece of pie you left out for him?”
“Yeah! He ate the whole thing! You were right, Mommy. He didn’t want cookies after all!”
Sam snickered under his breath. “Yeah, always worked for me. I always got the best presents at Christmas. How about you?”
Nicky huffed, scrambling off their family’s nest. “I don’t know yet, Mommy. Daddy said I had to wake you up but not Alex. Get up, Mommy! Presents!”
“You heard the boy,” Dean said, grunting as he got up, his left leg aching. The construction accident the October before last was still rearing its ugly head, even over a year later. The attic was warm, double insulated, but his leg still gave him problems sometimes when it was dead cold outside, like it was today, if the frost on the windows are any indicator.
He leaned down, rubbing at his shin.
“Dean?” Sam asked softly from behind him.
Dean squeezed his leg before straightening up and turning toward his mate, smiling. “I’m fine, Sammy. Nicky is going to be screeching downstairs, so you might wanna leave Alex up here so she can sleep a couple more hours.”
Sam looked down at their daughter, a little reluctant, but nodded, carefully prying her hands away from their grip on his shirt and sliding away from her, tucking her in. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Alexis.”
The beta pup whined softly in her sleep, her hands grasping for her mother’s shirt before grabbing tiny handfuls of their nest’s bedding and settling back down.
Dean held out his hand, and Sam took it, letting Dean help him up.
“Hurry up, Mommy and Daddy!” Nicky called out, darting down the ladder.
Dean chuckled at that, squeezing Sam’s hand. “Come on, Mommy. We’ve got Christmas presents to open.”
Sam smiled, squeezing Dean’s hand in return and grabbing his camera from the bookshelf before following their little omega down the ladder. Dean took a moment to make sure his daughter was wrapped snugly enough before following suite.
Nicky was already darting around their small Christmas tree, squealing happily at all the shoddily wrapped presents beneath it.
“Shh, Nicholas,” Sam chastised gently. “Your sister is sleeping.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Nicky giggled as he wrapped himself around a large box and started dragging it out from under the tree.
Dean dropped onto the couch, propping his aching leg up on the scarred coffee table. “Whatcha got there, puppy?”
“Presents!” Nicky exclaimed, snatching off the tiny scrap of wrapping paper taped to the corner and thrusting it at Dean. “It’s for me! It says Nicholas, Daddy! Right?”
Dean took the crumpled scrap of paper from his son, reading it out loud. “To Nicholas, from Santa Claus. Yep, looks like it’s for you, puppy.”
Nicky didn’t waste any time after that tearing into the wrapping paper to reveal a set of jumbo legos they’d gotten him.
Sam sat on the couch next to Dean, settling against his side as they watched their son open his presents, Sam snapping pictures every once in a while. “Seems to like the legos,” Sam murmured into his ear. “Good job, Santa.”
Dean smiled down at his mate, accepting a kiss from him. “I try.”
Their father appeared from his room then, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “What’s all this racket I’m hearing about?”
“Grandpa!” Nicky screeched, running up to John, who scooped him up into the air, raising him above his head.
“Sounds like I found the culprit,” John said, smiling up at the pup. “I should’ve known. Those lungs could only belong to one person.”
“Give Alex time to grow,” Dean said, reaching to the arm of the couch to grab the remote and turn on cartoons. “Rudolph is on, Nicky.”
“In a minute, Daddy,” Nicky replied as John put him back on the ground, too busy digging into his next present, a complete series of books Sam has been trying to collect one by one from the Goodwill for a month or two now.
“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Sam said, smiling up at their father. “Sleep well?”
John gave him a look. “Worse than some.”
Sam hummed, resting his head against Dean’s shoulder, his hand over Dean’s heart. “Some of us have to get up to feed the baby in the middle of the night, every night.”
John grunted, heading for the coffee pot to start it up, Dean assumed.
“Look,” Sam said, amused.
Dean tilted his head down to look at his son. Nicky was busy reading one of the books Sam had gotten him, too busy to even bother with his other presents.
Dean huffed a laugh. “Did you forget your other presents, puppy?”
Nicky looked up at him, blinking slowly before looking down, shy. “Are they going away, Daddy?”
Dean’s brow furrowed, his heart tugging. Even after being with them for almost a year, after Nicky finally started calling Dean and Sam ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mommy’, Nicholas still hadn’t gotten over the abandonment issues that had deeply rooted in him. “No, Nicky. No one is taking your presents away.”
Nicky beamed up at him at that and got up, bringing his book with him. He lifted his arms up to be held, and Dean picked him up, placing him in his lap.
Nicky held out the book to Sam, looking up at Dean apologetically. “Mommy does good voices.”
Dean laughed, dropping a kiss to the top of his son’s head. “It’s okay. Mommy does do some pretty good voices.” He added a suggestive lilt to that last.
Sam flushed and made a face at Dean, shaking his head as he took the book from Nicky. He snapped a quick picture of Dean and Nicky together before starting the book.
They went through two of the books and started a third before Alex started whimpering upstairs and Sam had to go feed her and bring her down.
Nicky cuddled up beneath Dean’s chin, his breathing deepening, and Dean smiled, rubbing his son’s back as Sam reappeared. “Four AM is too early even for a kid on Christmas.”
Sam laughed softly, sitting back on the couch and cradling Alex against him. She smiled up at Dean, green eyes bright and awake as she giggled.
Dean reached out, poking her full, rounded little belly. “Looks like someone had a good breakfast.”
She squirmed beneath his fingers, grabbing for him. He shifted Nicky into one arm, taking Alex from Sam and cradling her close with the other.
Sam took another picture, and Dean made a face at him. “Trying to make a scrapbook, Sammy?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, actually. It’s our babies’ first Christmas, well, with us anyway. Of course I’m making a scrapbook.” Sam moved in close and turned the camera on them, then, snapping a picture of the four of them together.
“Can’t believe the kid stopped at the books,” John said, shaking his head, probably mourning the fact that he’d blown a penny on a set of classic model cars. He only had himself to blame. Sam and Dean both had warned him that Nicky wasn’t into that sort of thing anymore than Sam had. It just wasn’t an omega thing.
“Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll just put the cars in storage and save it for number three,” Sam said, grinning. He was pretty sure their next child would be an alpha. Dean had learned not to question Sam’s knowledge about pregnancy or child-rearing. Sam pretty much knew what needed to be done or what was going to happen most of the time.
Dean gazed down at Sam’s stomach, remembering when he was pregnant with Alex. Dean had eaten every second of that up, despite Sam’s insecurities.
And even though they already had a toddler and a baby, Dean was starting to want more.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sam said, his hand coming to rest on his flat belly. “Maybe in a couple of years, but not a minute before.”
Dean snorted but didn’t argue, just held his children close, thankful to have them at all. A year an a half ago, he’d have never guessed where he would be right now, in the home that he’d given Sam when he’d still been courting him, Sam as his mate by his side, his father calmly seated across from them.
His pups in his arms.
He buried his nose in Nicky’s soft, chestnut hair, relishing in the gentle, sweet scent of puppy he emitted.
This was it. This was as perfect as life could ever get.
Title: Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1800
Warnings: ridiculous amounts of schmoop, domesticity, implied mpreg, implied male lactation, alpha/beta/omega society, established!relationship, nice!knows!john, you are going to lose all respect for me as a writer when you read this schmoopfest
Summary: The Winchesters celebrate Christmas as a family.
written for lexicale's stocking on fandom_stocking.
“Daddy,” a harsh whisper right next to Dean’s ear pierced through his slumber. He tried to ignore it, snuggling a little closer to Sam, nose tucked into his mate’s hair.
A small hand pushed at Dean’s shoulder urgently. “Daddy.”
“Go back to sleep, Nicky,” he grumbled in response. “It’s not even daytime yet.”
“Daddy,” Nicky said again, a little louder now, “Santa came!”
And, yeah, Dean knew that Santa came. Dean knew that Santa came because he and his father were up until two in the morning wrapping Nicholas and Alexis’ Christmas presents last night. “Nicky, I swear, the presents will still be there at noon.”
There was a pause and then a soft, sad, “Okay, Daddy,” that made Dean feel like a jackass.
He slid his arm from around Sam’s waist and rolled over in his family’s nest to face his four year old omega pup, who was looking down at his socked feet sadly. Dean reached out, and wrapped his arm around Nicky, pulling him closer to him, his face nuzzling into his son’s neck. “Go get Mommy up, but be quiet. The baby is still sleeping.”
Nicky’s face lit up, and he turned in Dean’s arms, breaking free and running to the other side of the mattress. Dean turned to watch as Nicky climbs up onto the mattress and curled next to Sam, his tiny hands grabbing into his mother’s shirt. “Mommy,” he whispers, “Mommy, wake up.”
Sam stired to the sound of their pup calling him, and he blearily blinked his eyes open. He raised his face from where it was nuzzled into their seven month old daughter’s hair, smiling when his eyes focused on Dean.
“Morning,” Dean said, voice still a little gravelly with sleep. “You got a monkey on your back for Christmas. Congrats.”
Sam huffed a laugh, shaking his head and reaching back behind him, and ruffling his hair. “Morning, Nicholas.”
“Mommy, Santa came!”
Sam smiled knowingly at Dean and stretched up, kissing him softly. “Yeah? Did he eat that piece of pie you left out for him?”
“Yeah! He ate the whole thing! You were right, Mommy. He didn’t want cookies after all!”
Sam snickered under his breath. “Yeah, always worked for me. I always got the best presents at Christmas. How about you?”
Nicky huffed, scrambling off their family’s nest. “I don’t know yet, Mommy. Daddy said I had to wake you up but not Alex. Get up, Mommy! Presents!”
“You heard the boy,” Dean said, grunting as he got up, his left leg aching. The construction accident the October before last was still rearing its ugly head, even over a year later. The attic was warm, double insulated, but his leg still gave him problems sometimes when it was dead cold outside, like it was today, if the frost on the windows are any indicator.
He leaned down, rubbing at his shin.
“Dean?” Sam asked softly from behind him.
Dean squeezed his leg before straightening up and turning toward his mate, smiling. “I’m fine, Sammy. Nicky is going to be screeching downstairs, so you might wanna leave Alex up here so she can sleep a couple more hours.”
Sam looked down at their daughter, a little reluctant, but nodded, carefully prying her hands away from their grip on his shirt and sliding away from her, tucking her in. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Alexis.”
The beta pup whined softly in her sleep, her hands grasping for her mother’s shirt before grabbing tiny handfuls of their nest’s bedding and settling back down.
Dean held out his hand, and Sam took it, letting Dean help him up.
“Hurry up, Mommy and Daddy!” Nicky called out, darting down the ladder.
Dean chuckled at that, squeezing Sam’s hand. “Come on, Mommy. We’ve got Christmas presents to open.”
Sam smiled, squeezing Dean’s hand in return and grabbing his camera from the bookshelf before following their little omega down the ladder. Dean took a moment to make sure his daughter was wrapped snugly enough before following suite.
Nicky was already darting around their small Christmas tree, squealing happily at all the shoddily wrapped presents beneath it.
“Shh, Nicholas,” Sam chastised gently. “Your sister is sleeping.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Nicky giggled as he wrapped himself around a large box and started dragging it out from under the tree.
Dean dropped onto the couch, propping his aching leg up on the scarred coffee table. “Whatcha got there, puppy?”
“Presents!” Nicky exclaimed, snatching off the tiny scrap of wrapping paper taped to the corner and thrusting it at Dean. “It’s for me! It says Nicholas, Daddy! Right?”
Dean took the crumpled scrap of paper from his son, reading it out loud. “To Nicholas, from Santa Claus. Yep, looks like it’s for you, puppy.”
Nicky didn’t waste any time after that tearing into the wrapping paper to reveal a set of jumbo legos they’d gotten him.
Sam sat on the couch next to Dean, settling against his side as they watched their son open his presents, Sam snapping pictures every once in a while. “Seems to like the legos,” Sam murmured into his ear. “Good job, Santa.”
Dean smiled down at his mate, accepting a kiss from him. “I try.”
Their father appeared from his room then, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “What’s all this racket I’m hearing about?”
“Grandpa!” Nicky screeched, running up to John, who scooped him up into the air, raising him above his head.
“Sounds like I found the culprit,” John said, smiling up at the pup. “I should’ve known. Those lungs could only belong to one person.”
“Give Alex time to grow,” Dean said, reaching to the arm of the couch to grab the remote and turn on cartoons. “Rudolph is on, Nicky.”
“In a minute, Daddy,” Nicky replied as John put him back on the ground, too busy digging into his next present, a complete series of books Sam has been trying to collect one by one from the Goodwill for a month or two now.
“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Sam said, smiling up at their father. “Sleep well?”
John gave him a look. “Worse than some.”
Sam hummed, resting his head against Dean’s shoulder, his hand over Dean’s heart. “Some of us have to get up to feed the baby in the middle of the night, every night.”
John grunted, heading for the coffee pot to start it up, Dean assumed.
“Look,” Sam said, amused.
Dean tilted his head down to look at his son. Nicky was busy reading one of the books Sam had gotten him, too busy to even bother with his other presents.
Dean huffed a laugh. “Did you forget your other presents, puppy?”
Nicky looked up at him, blinking slowly before looking down, shy. “Are they going away, Daddy?”
Dean’s brow furrowed, his heart tugging. Even after being with them for almost a year, after Nicky finally started calling Dean and Sam ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mommy’, Nicholas still hadn’t gotten over the abandonment issues that had deeply rooted in him. “No, Nicky. No one is taking your presents away.”
Nicky beamed up at him at that and got up, bringing his book with him. He lifted his arms up to be held, and Dean picked him up, placing him in his lap.
Nicky held out the book to Sam, looking up at Dean apologetically. “Mommy does good voices.”
Dean laughed, dropping a kiss to the top of his son’s head. “It’s okay. Mommy does do some pretty good voices.” He added a suggestive lilt to that last.
Sam flushed and made a face at Dean, shaking his head as he took the book from Nicky. He snapped a quick picture of Dean and Nicky together before starting the book.
They went through two of the books and started a third before Alex started whimpering upstairs and Sam had to go feed her and bring her down.
Nicky cuddled up beneath Dean’s chin, his breathing deepening, and Dean smiled, rubbing his son’s back as Sam reappeared. “Four AM is too early even for a kid on Christmas.”
Sam laughed softly, sitting back on the couch and cradling Alex against him. She smiled up at Dean, green eyes bright and awake as she giggled.
Dean reached out, poking her full, rounded little belly. “Looks like someone had a good breakfast.”
She squirmed beneath his fingers, grabbing for him. He shifted Nicky into one arm, taking Alex from Sam and cradling her close with the other.
Sam took another picture, and Dean made a face at him. “Trying to make a scrapbook, Sammy?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, actually. It’s our babies’ first Christmas, well, with us anyway. Of course I’m making a scrapbook.” Sam moved in close and turned the camera on them, then, snapping a picture of the four of them together.
“Can’t believe the kid stopped at the books,” John said, shaking his head, probably mourning the fact that he’d blown a penny on a set of classic model cars. He only had himself to blame. Sam and Dean both had warned him that Nicky wasn’t into that sort of thing anymore than Sam had. It just wasn’t an omega thing.
“Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll just put the cars in storage and save it for number three,” Sam said, grinning. He was pretty sure their next child would be an alpha. Dean had learned not to question Sam’s knowledge about pregnancy or child-rearing. Sam pretty much knew what needed to be done or what was going to happen most of the time.
Dean gazed down at Sam’s stomach, remembering when he was pregnant with Alex. Dean had eaten every second of that up, despite Sam’s insecurities.
And even though they already had a toddler and a baby, Dean was starting to want more.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sam said, his hand coming to rest on his flat belly. “Maybe in a couple of years, but not a minute before.”
Dean snorted but didn’t argue, just held his children close, thankful to have them at all. A year an a half ago, he’d have never guessed where he would be right now, in the home that he’d given Sam when he’d still been courting him, Sam as his mate by his side, his father calmly seated across from them.
His pups in his arms.
He buried his nose in Nicky’s soft, chestnut hair, relishing in the gentle, sweet scent of puppy he emitted.
This was it. This was as perfect as life could ever get.