In Castiel's humble opinion, there really are ups and downs to being pregnant.
For example. His body hurts, almost all the time. In strange places too, joints and muscles that he isn't used to aching when he lays down at night. Missouri has assured him that it's normal, multiple times, but his limbs feel wiggly when he runs and no way he should have so many gas bubbles in his belly, right?
And then there's the morning sickness, which shouldn't be characterized by "morning" nor "sickness". Because it doesn't happen in the morning, and it's more like unrelenting nausea than it is actual vomiting. He's been feeling better lately though, so maybe he's through the worst of that.
He also feels incredibly, uncomfortably bloated. All the time. Castiel has never considered himself to be vain, and he isn't starting now. But his body just...has a different purpose, for the time being. He's used to being a predator, being lethal, and he couldn't be farther from that right now. Instead he's soft, and vulnerable, and he's growing a child inside himself.
It's taking some getting used to.
The exhaustion, that's been difficult too. One minute he's wide awake, the next he feels like he's been run over by a truck, or like he hasn't slept in five days. He's had to step off sentry because of it, which he can't say he's too sorry about. Dean certainly isn't sorry.
Dean, whose alpha instincts have been absolutely off the charts ever since he found out. Castiel can't really blame him, even if he does get tired of being treated like china all the time. He gets it, he does, he just...
Dean doesn't hug him as tight, doesn't fuck him as hard, won't wrestle with him in their nest, and is only barely okay with Castiel wandering out in the forest alone. Not like their territory is a fucking fortress, or anything. Not like Castiel can't handle himself, thank you very much. Not like he needs some overprotective, overbearing alpha telling him what to do and what not to do like he's some kind of child—
Castiel huffs and cuts off that train of thought. He picks at the bark of the thick branch he's laying on, then gives up and lets his arm hang free. His belly looks round from this viewpoint, but he can still see his feet. So that's something.
And maybe he's moping. Maybe he picked a random tree, far from the den, and climbed as high as he could. Maybe he walked through two different streams, and intentionally confused his trail, so that Dean wouldn't be able to find him.
They had a fight, that morning. Castiel hardly remembers how it even started. All he knows is how it ended, and that was with Dean smashing a mug of hot coffee against the opposite wall as Castiel stormed out the door.
"Oh," Castiel murmurs to himself. Hot coffee, that was it. Castiel wanted a second mug, and Dean said that more than one probably wasn't good for the baby. Which would have been fine, if Dean hadn't also told him that the sunny-side up eggs were a no go, and limited his bacon intake to three pieces. He wants as much bacon and eggs and coffee as he damn well pleases, and he wants his mate to stop treating him like he's breakable.
Suffice it to say that right now, Castiel isn't really in the mood to be pregnant.
There are good parts, too. Dean has an even harder time keeping his hands to himself, and there's something perfectly soothing about having Dean's warmth at his back and Dean's hands on his belly. Not to mention Castiel's libido, which has been thrown into overdrive. And he's never felt quite so close to his mate, to the love of his life, as he does right now.
He's also never felt quite so frustrated by him, but that's beside the point.
And none of that even touches on the miracle inside him. And it's theirs. He feels it grow every day, and it's incredible.
But he doesn't think about that right now. Because he's grumpy, and he deserves to throw a tantrum if he wants to. A short tantrum, but a tantrum nonetheless.
Short, because it takes a little over an hour for Dean to find him. Asshole.
"You ready to talk now?" Dean calls up from the ground. Castiel can't see him through the layers of leaves, but he can hear the exasperation that is most likely displayed on his face. "Or you just gonna snarl at me some more?"
Castiel snorts. Double asshole.
"Took you long enough."
Castiel can hear Dean's long-suffering sigh. He's not afraid to admit that it's satisfying.
"I left the Bunker twenty minutes ago," Dean fires back, clearly still frustrated. "Real cute, you tryin' to hide out here. You clearly think highly of me, with your shitty attempt at hiding your trail."
Castiel huffs and crosses his arms across his chest. Triple asshole, then. The panther is purring, because their mate really is quite impressive. He talks a big game, but the trail they left wasn't an easy one. And he found them without breaking a sweat. Castiel refuses to be impressed.
"I never asked you to come find me," Castiel grumbles. He has no intention of apologizing, if that's what Dean is looking for.
"Eat me, Cas."
Castiel glares up into the trees. Dean can't see him, presumably, but they know each other well enough. He can picture the look on his mate's face, and Dean can probably do the same for him.
"I'm not coming down."
"Fine."
There's a soft thud, which is most likely Dean planting himself at the bottom of the tree.
"I don't need you to be my guard dog," Castiel growls at him, his frustrations bubbling over. "I can take care of myself, Dean."
"Yeah, well, you're being reckless," he grumbles back, clearly trying to keep his own growl out of his voice.
"So if I wasn't pregnant, you'd still think it was reckless?"
Dean seems to snap, a snarl ripping out of his throat that sounds far more like the wolf than it does Dean.
"Yeah, Cas, I would. Because I already almost fucking lost you once, and every goddamn time you leave there's a chance I'll lose you for good." He exhales heavily, and Castiel wants to be angry but there's a clenching in his chest that he can't ignore. "But I'm not gonna keep you locked up inside, I would never do that to you, okay? Just, is it too fucking much to ask to not lose you both because some shithead thought you would be an easy target?"
Castiel takes a deep breath, and climbs down.
Dean is sitting on the forest floor, his back against the trunk of the tree and his head in his hands.
"Dean," Castiel sighs, and his wolf only barely lifts his head enough to meet his gaze. Castiel crosses his arms, feeling the swell of his stomach under his forearms. "I'm not doing this for nine months."
"I know. I just..." he trails off, and Castiel doesn't miss the way Dean's eyes linger on his stomach. "Is it so bad to want you safe?"
Castiel rolls his eyes. "No, it's not. When you treat me different because of it..."
"Yeah. I—yeah."
"And when you tell me I can't eat bacon..."
Dean snorts and drops his head into his hands again. Castiel tries to keep the smile off his face.
"Sorry. About that." Dean runs frustrated fingers through his hair, and curls further into himself. Castiel feels a little guilty, knows he can't entirelyhelp himself, but still. He doesn't mind putting Dean through his paces, every once in a while. "Are we done fighting?" Dean says softly, his voice cracking just slightly.
"I think so," Castiel hums, reaching down to pull Dean's hands away from his face. "As long as you're sorry."
"You know I am." Dean rolls his shoulders back, and it's a relief to see him uncurl and open back up to Castiel. "C'mere."
Castiel goes easily, straddling Dean's lap and pushing his fingers through his mate's already mussed hair. He presses their lips together, feels the relief in the immediate response from Dean, in the way he clings to Castiel's back.
"Want to really apologize?" Castiel whispers, meeting Dean's eyes. Dean licks his lips and nods. "You can fuck me into our mattress tonight?"
Dean laughs and growls, capturing Castiel's lips with one arm around his waist and the other hand sliding around to rest on his rounded stomach. Castiel leaves one hand resting on Dean's jawline, feeling their mouths move together, but he can't resist moving the other to thread together with Dean's own.
"Nest is closer," Dean rumbles, grinning against Castiel's mouth.
Castiel purrs. "Good idea, puppy. Good idea."
***
It should be illegal for Cas to wake him up in the middle of the goddamn night. Seriously.
"What," Dean groans, pushing Cas' hand away and burying his face under the pillows.
"Dean wake up," he hisses, smacking Dean with the palm of his hand with what Dean considers to be wildly unnecessary force.
"Go away."
"Not a question, Dean. Wake. Up. Right. Now."
It's the urgency in his mate's voice that gets his eyes open. Dean rolls over and squints at him in the dark, trying to puzzle out why the hell Cas is sitting up with bright eyes like it's morning. He's sitting with his hands on either side of his rounded belly, his legs crossed in front of him, staring down at it like it's the first time he's noticed it's there.
"Kitten," Dean hesitates, sitting up slowly, "what's wrong?"
The panic shooting up his spine is like ice. He's waiting for Cas to say that there's blood, or he felt something pop, or maybe he can't feel his legs, or—
Cas turns to him, a gummy smile on his face.
"Give me your hand."
Dean offers his wrist hesitantly, still not sure what's going on. "Why?"
"You have to feel this," Cas hums, smiling at Dean in that way of his, the way that Dean is positive he doesn't deserve. He takes Dean's hand and places it on the curve of his stomach, just to the side of his protruding belly button. Six—almost seven—months in and Dean still is awed by the sight of his mate pregnant with their pup.
"Feel wh—"
Something brushes against his palm, something inside Cas' stomach.
"What the fuck!" Dean pulls his hand away, staring with wide eyes. Cas is still smiling at him, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. "Was that...?"
"Yeah," Cas exhales, nodding excitingly. "Yes. It's our baby."
Dean scrambles across their bed, sitting right in front of Cas so he can get both hands on his belly.
"No fucking way," Dean breathes, his mind racing and his body vibrating. He can smell Cas' happiness in the air, can smell the soft warmth of their pup, and practically taste the sweet enticing scent of his pregnant mate with how strong the scent is. He spreads his fingers out across Cas' stomach, trying to feel as much as he can.
That is, until Cas' makes a pained hissing sound.
"Shit, I'm sorry, did I—"
"No, no," Cas chuckles, replacing Dean's hands on his bump and laying his own palms on the backs of Dean's hands. "I just got a particularly poorly placed kick. I'm fine."
"Cool it, baby," Dean speaks to Cas' belly, leaning in close. "Lots of important stuff in there."
"Like my vital organs," Cas hums. "Your voice makes it happy."
Dean glances up at him, rolling his eyes. "Her, not it."
"You don't know that," Cas replies simply, staring back down at his belly.
Dean is distracted from replying by movement under his palms. A foot, a hand, hell even a knee, he's got no idea. But it pushes against his hand through Cas' skin and holy shit that's their pup in there.
"How long has she...?"
Cas shrugs. "This noticeably? Not long. I've just...I don't know. Thought it was my stomach making noise not...this." He smiles, and his eyes are so bright they're infectious. "She woke me up."
"Lots more of that coming," Dean chuckles, drifting his fingers lightly across the stretched skin of his mate's belly. "That why you woke me up too?" Dean winks, getting a light shove in return.
"Shut up. This is your future, puppy."
"Yep," Dean grins, wide and the happiest he's been in...ever? Maybe? Although it is the middle of the night, so. He leans down to press a kiss to Cas' stomach, feeling a little limb press up to meet him. "I can't fucking wait."
***
All of the shitty things about being pregnant, all of the sickness and aches and moodiness, Castiel would take it all for one thing.
The sex.
To be fair, there has really never been a time when Castiel didn't just want Dean. His sandy hair, a little too perfectly spiked in the front and begging to be messed up. The scattered freckles across his nose, his cheeks, the tops of his shoulders. Muscles, more thickly defined than Castiel's, giving Dean the feeling of being dense, compact. The perpetual stubble on his cheeks, longer or shorter depending on the day. And his scent. It's like being in heat, except it's all the time and Castiel wants nothing more than to wrap himself up in Dean's cocoon and stay there forever.
And all of this, it really doesn't help with the dreams. Castiel has had a few dreams about Dean in the past, but never dreams like this. Never this often, either.
Yet here he is, for the fourth time this week, awake in the middle of the night because...
"Dean," he whines, trying to inch closer. He can't get far, because his gigantic belly is in the way.
Dean mumbles something unintelligible, burying his face further into the pillows of their bed. Castiel tries again, reaching across the empty space between them to get his hands on Dean's skin. Dean leans into the touch, turns easily to kiss the bare skin of Castiel's wrist.
"Kitt'n?" he mumbles, barely blinking open one eye. "Wha's'matter?"
With only a little bit of struggle Castiel manages to move into a sitting position, gently pushing Dean onto his back to straddle his hips. Dean grins.
"Horny bastard."
Castiel growls and buries his nose in Dean's neck as best he can, inhaling deeply. His bump is kind of in the way, but he's trying. The scent of oak and chestnuts floods his senses, the taste of Dean on his lips as he licks and nibbles at the skin of his throat.
"I blame you," Castiel mumbles, not willing to pull his mouth away to speak, "for smelling like this."
"S'okay," Dean chuckles. "You can fuck me in the middle of the night anytime."
Castiel purrs, long and low and seductive. "Oh, really?" he tugs on Dean's hair, gets his neck bent so expose even more skin. "I can fuck youanytime?"
"Shaddup," Dean grumbles, even as his body arches up to meet Castiel's. "Don't tease. We both know you're too tired for that."
Castiel kind of has to hum in agreement. He is way too exhausted for any activity that is that...strenuous. But after the baby comes...
"You sure this is okay?" Dean presses, settling his hands on Castiel's hips. Castiel feels a rush of slick, and an overwhelming urge to feel Dean inside of him right now. "We can move. Your back..."
"Probably okay," Cas nods, even though yeah, his back is kind of achy already. "Give me your knees."
Dean shifts easily, bending his knees up and planting his feet on the bed to give Castiel something to lean back against. Castiel sighs happily, both from the support on his back and the feeling of Dean's cock resting between his cheeks.
"If you're sure."
"I am," Castiel nods, letting out a pleased noise as he rocks his hips back. "And I know this is your favorite."
Dean blinks sleepily up at him and grins, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. Castiel's heart positively flutters.
"You're too good to me, baby."
With a little coordinated shifting they get lined up, Castiel's abundance of slick easing the way as he sinks down onto his mate's cock. He lets out a long, whimpering moan as Dean slides into him, feeling Dean's fingers tighten on his hips. Every nerve ending feels like it's firing at maximum capacity—something about increased blood flow, or whatever—and Castiel already knows he won't be able to handle this for long.
Dean groans and rocks his hips gently up, doing the work and letting Castiel relax back against his knees. His hands slide around and settle on Castiel's fully round stomach, smoothing over the skin of his bump and dragging his thumb over the protruding belly button.
"Kitten," he moans, and Castiel whines at the neediness of his voice. "Look at me."
It's the thing he misses most about not being pregnant. The intimacy, being able to cling to each other during sex, being able to kiss Dean's full lips, being able to suck marks into the skin of his neck as they move together. But this is a fair substitute, keeping their eyes locked and really seeing each other.
"You feel so—ah!—so good, D-Dean, so, so..." he whimpers, his brain forgetting completely where it was going. He feels so warm, so full all over, Dean stretching him out and holding him together all at once. Dean's rough hands on the soft skin of his stomach, callouses scratching blissfully across the skin. Their scents tangled together, the smell of mates and love suffusing the dark space of their room.
"You too, sweetheart," Dean groans, pressing in deeper. Castiel thinks he might have brushed his prostate, but everything feels so good he can't even tell. "You're so fucking gorgeous like this, filled up with my pups, stretched wide around my knot..."
Castiel feels a tug on his rim as Dean speaks, knowing that it's Dean's knot swelling as they move together. And he doesn't often take advantage of this particular kink, doesn't often goad Dean into breeding him, but there's a time and a place.
"Fill me up, I'm all yours," he moans, grinning at the low growl coming from Dean's chest. "Everyone said it was impossible, but look what we made," he moves his own hands to cover Dean's there they rest on his stomach, threading their fingers together. "All yours, alpha."
Dean curses low in his throat, his thrusts picking up as his knot swells. Castiel feels himself approaching his own release, letting Dean move their hands down to stroke his cock. Castiel's body launches into orgasm, taking Dean right along with it as his knot swells to tie them together. Castiel can feel Dean's release inside of him, and it settles some primal urge in his gut.
And it's all fuzzy and after-glowy and wonderful, right up until the baby goes nuts.
"Ow," Castiel hisses, doubling over as the baby takes a swing at his kidneys. Dean laughs, tossing his head back and grinning like an idiot. "Not funny."
"Kinda funny," he chuckles, letting go of Castiel's fingers to prop himself up on his elbows. "Little stinker is tryin' to ruin the moment."
"It worked," Castiel pouts, laying his hands on the sides of his belly. He loves this little cub, he just does not love when this little cub punches him in the ribs.
"Nuh uh," Dean challenges, rolling his hips enough to tug gently on his knot where it's buried inside Castiel. He can't help but shiver as Dean pumps him full with another round. "Just a little interruption."
"Incorrigible," Castiel shakes his head, though he's feeling warm and pleased and the urge to purr is overwhelming.
Dean just hums and ignores him. He shifts forward as much as he can, focusing his attention on Castiel's bump. The baby is moving around, a side effect of Castiel's increased heart rate, and he knows that Dean can't help himself.
One hand is propping him up, the other spread wide against Castiel's belly. He's moving along the center line, mouthing wet kisses and licking at the stretched skin as he goes. The baby presses up against the skin every once in a while, and Dean smiles every time.
"You look like you're going to explode," Castiel smiles softly, amused at the pure contentment oozing out of Dean's skin. Like his happiness can no longer be contained inside his body.
"Feels like it, too," he chuckles, continuing his worship without pause.
"Just wait 'til they're actually here."
Dean hums in agreement. Without being asked he snags a small tub of lotion from he bedside table, Castiel's favorite. It smells like lavender and rosewater and it makes him want to curl up and sleep all day.
"I can't sleep sitting up," Castiel comments, sort of mourning the loss of Dean's lips on his skin.
"So?" Dean shrugs. "It's your favorite."
Castiel doesn't argue. Dean relaxes onto his back so he has full use of both arms, taking a generous scoop of the lotion and spreading it across Castiel's stomach. It's cold at first, but it warms easily under Dean's hands. With practiced movements he rubs it all across Castiel's bump, spreading underneath and back towards his hips where the worst of the stretch marks are. Castiel hated it when they first appeared, but Dean could only ever marvel at how beautiful he looked.
What a sap.
Dean continues his attentions for a while, long enough that Castiel feels himself drifting off under his practiced fingers. He's warm and there's lavender in the air and there's something pleasurable about Dean's knot keeping them tied together, even if Castiel does wish he could lay down and fall asleep.
After he's satisfied Dean moves to Castiel's shoulders and arms, working his way down to his hands and massaging the muscles as he goes.
"My hands aren't the sore ones," Castiel mumbles sort of blearily, getting sleepier and sleepier with each moment.
"I'll get to your feet," Dean chuckles, tugging on Castiel's wrist and kissing the thin skin there. "When we can move."
"We should sleep," Castiel protests weakly, even as his body sags further under Dean's fingers. "It's the middle of the night. Not a good time for foot massages."
"Are your feet sore?" Dean asks gently, his voice soft and low and pleasing to Castiel's ears. Castiel cracks open his eyelids to study Dean's face.
"Yes," he nods, because, yeah. They're always sore.
"Then it's a good time for foot massages."
Castiel opens his mouth to protest again, but Dean quiets him with a thumb against his lips. His hand smells like lotion.
"We'll sleep in. I'll skip the meeting if I feel like it. Now shut up, and let me take care of you." There's no room for argument, Castiel knows that. No matter how soft Dean's green eyes may look.
"Stubborn wolf."
Dean just grins, and continues with his work.
Castiel falls back asleep that night while Dean is rubbing his sore feet. It feels wonderful, and he's sure to tell Dean as much. Probably more than once, but he's sleepy and feeling overwhelmed with how much he loves his mate.
When he wakes up in the morning Dean is curled around him, his nose tucked into the tuft of hair behind Castiel's ear. His arms are wrapped protectively around Castiel's middle, and he's breathing so deeply that Castiel isn't sure that he could wake him even if he wanted to. Their whole room smells like lavender and rosewater, and sex, and judging by the faint noises coming from outside it's not early.
Castiel hums and lets himself drift off once again. The rest of the world doesn't need them quite yet. They can have this for a little while longer.
***
Dean and Castiel had been sitting in their bed in the den when Castiel fell asleep with his book in his hands. He never used to have that problem, but the little baby in his belly seems intent on sucking out all his energy these days. Castiel already slept a significant amount more than his mate, but Dean never complains. He sleeps the best in Dean's arms, so sometimes he puts in the extra effort to convince his mate to join him in bed. It's easier, now that he's the size of a whale. Dean likes to be near his mate and his pup at the same time, and it doesn't take much to convince the big tough alpha to come cuddle.
The rest of the Pack, particularly Jo and Sam, are endlessly amused by it. Castiel loves it, though, and he knows his wolf does too. No matter how much he grumbles.
That's how he ended up asleep with his book forgotten on the floor, sprawled between Dean's legs with his back against his mate's chest and his nose tucked against the slope of his shoulder. His body rouses itself slowly, but Castiel carefully regulates his breathing when he feels one of Dean's rough palms stroking across his swollen belly. He must have pushed Castiel's t-shirt out of the way, because it feels like skin on skin. It isn't the first time.
"Hey baby girl," Dean whispers, and Castiel tries not to smile. They have no reason to think that their baby is a girl, but Dean is adamant. "You're quiet today. Saving your strength? We'll get to meet you soon."
The pup shifts in Castiel's stomach, one foot pressing against the skin. Dean chuckles and rubs his palm over the little limb.
"Careful, baby. Daddy's sleeping. I'll see you soon."
Their pup quiets down again while Dean hums for a few moments.
"Cas says he doesn't know what you are, but I think you're gonna be a cat like him," Dean says, and Castiel can hear the smile in his voice. Missouri told them it'd be more likely for them to have a wolf than a leopard but again, Dean is adamant. "You smell like a cat. That's probably good, too, if you turn out like him. You wanna be like Cas, not like me."
Castiel raises his head at that, kisses the bite scar on Dean's neck.
"She'll be like both of us. And she would be equally lucky to be like you."
Dean leaves one hand on Castiel's stomach, uses the other to cup his jaw. And in true Dean fashion, he ignores what Castiel was really trying to say.
"So you agree it's a girl now?" he grins, the warmth in his green eyes almost overwhelming. Castiel just shrugs and stares down at his belly, running his hands over the rounded sides.
"What should we name her?"
Dean presses a kiss to his temple and makes a thoughtful noise, sighing softly.
"Something tough. Our little girl is gonna rule the world."
For the entirety of the pregnancy Dean has been sort of shifty about names. Castiel hasn't said it out loud, but he's pretty sure it's mostly to do with the likelihood that Castiel could lose the baby. Miscarriages are far more common in shifters than in humans, even after the three month mark. With their due date less than two weeks away, though, Dean is more willing to broach the topic.
"She'll break a few hearts, too," Castiel chuckles. "If she looks anything like you."
"No damn alpha is gonna get their hands on her," Dean growls, and it sounds a lot like his wolf but Castiel knows that was 100% his overprotective mate. "Besides, you're the hot one, kitten."
Dean tilts Castiel's chin up with a finger, making a pleased noise low in his throat when Castiel presses closer. He's too tired for much more, though. And his back is aching like hell. He settles back down and nuzzles at Dean's neck, his mate returning his attentions to Castiel's swollen belly.
"She likes that," Castiel hums, purring at the roughness of Dean's palms. The scent of happy alpha and happy mate is overwhelming.
"Yeah?" Dean says, a wide grin on his face. Castiel just hums and closes his eyes. "God I can't wait to meet her."
"Me too. Then you can carry her sometimes."
"That the only reason?" Dean laughs. Castiel opens his eyes, twists to cup his mate's face and smiles.
"There may be others."
"I love you, kitten. I love you so goddamn much."
Castiel walks his fingers across every inch of Dean's face, tracing his lips and jaw and memorizing every freckle. They don't break eye contact the whole time.
"And I you, puppy. You are my everything."
Their baby is born eleven days later. The labor sucks, if you ask Castiel. And Dean is so hyped up, snarling at absolutely everybody, that Missouri can hardly even get near Castiel to help out. She ends up swatting him on the nose and marching right past him, and the look of utter confusion on Dean's face makes Castiel laugh right through his next contraction.
She takes her time, too. Half a day and the entire night, and Castiel is thoroughly convinced he needs to sleep for several days when it's all said and done. Dean looks awful too, but not nearly as bad as Castiel feels. She is healthy and beautiful and has big blue eyes, which Dean is more than a little excited about, but Castiel isn't confident that they'll stay that way. The tuft of dark hair, though, he's pretty sure that'll stick around.