Work Text:
Castiel was in his workshop when the fresh lemon verbena scent of Charlie wafted into the room seconds before she rapped knuckles on the door. His husband's beta handmaiden and longtime friend and companion stepped into the doorway. “Good afternoon, Charlie.” The willowy redhead dipped into a small bowing curtsey, a habit that had been hard to break for her, despite the years she had lived with Dean and Castiel in their home where formality was often pushed aside for affection and comfort. “Afternoon, Castiel. I thought I would take a moment to let you know that your lovely, very pregnant husband is likely minutes away from murdering one or more of your precious children.” Her voice was cheerful, amused.
Castiel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sawdust raining down onto the simple linen work shirt he was wearing. This pregnancy had not been easy on Dean, his moods swung wildly and often without warning, he was prone to snapping and snarling at anyone who came near the children and had refused Castiel their bed on many occasions. He knew his mate was frustrated, and tried very hard to accommodate for whatever need he might have, but Castiel was at a loss more often than not on how to soothe him.
He brushed the fragrant cedar dust from his clothes and motioned for Charlie to precede him out. “What is the problem today?” Charlie laughed, “Oh, Dean has merely frightened off yet another nanny. I believe he even made this one cry, poor man.” Castiel groaned. The midwife had urged Dean to allow someone to do the majority of the child care during his pregnancy, cautioning that stress could invite complications. Dean had not reacted well to say the least. So far there had been a string of beta and omega nannies who, according to Dean ("She let them play in the dirt Castiel!" ) were utterly incompetent with the children.
As the two made their way towards the courtyard where he could hear the shrieking laughter of his sons, he noticed a small bearded man huddled in a corner crying wetly into his hands. Castiel looked at Charlie and she nodded. Castiel crouched before the dark haired, red eyed beta and laid a hand on his shoulder. The man gasped and looked up. “Sir! I am so sorry! Forgive me!” Castiel lips quirked into a smile. “Chuck? It is Chuck, right?” The man nodded bleakly. “It will be alright. I am fairly certain you did nothing wrong. Dean is very territorial of the children.” A breath shuddered out of the trembling beta, and he sniffled. “Thank you, sir. I try not to anger him, but it seems nothing I do is right.” Castiel stood, mentally bracing himself to face his mate, and muttered under his breath, “You are not the only one, my friend.”
- -
“Michael Adam, Lucas Samuel, you come here this instant!” Dean struggled awkwardly out of the cushioned chair Charlie had all but forced him into as he called out for his children. He was tired and red-faced and felt swollen and enormous. Carrying the twins had been easier and had been more comfortable than this pregnancy, and this was only one child. He couldn't understand the constant shifting of his moods, and he knew Castiel was growing weary of his behavior. His husband locked himself up in that workshop of his, and though he was hurt, he tried so hard not to let it show. What Alpha would want to deal with a hugely pregnant mate who was an emotional wreck, who snapped and yelled and denied him the physical pleasures of their marriage bed?
He planted his hands on his widened hips as his sons froze, caught in the act of beating each other with their toys. Castiel had made matching stick horses for the boy's weeks ago and apparently the novelty of racing around the gardens pretending to ride them had faded, leaving of course the only option of hitting each other with the heavy, beautifully carved heads. Michael had dropped his horse when Dean had yelled and turned toward him, shame-faced with head hung. Lucas on the other hand took the opportunity to swing his horse into the back of his brother's knees, knocking him to the ground. Dean rushed to his son's side and tried to drop to the ground with as much grace as he could muster, gathering his crying boy to his chest, stroking his hair and murmuring softly. He glared sternly at Lucas. The boy did not look half as sorry as he should, and was biting his little lower lip as if trying not to smile. “Apologize to your brother, Lucas. Now.” Lucas shuffled his feet and pouted. Dean kissed Michael's hair and was struggling to his feet when Lucas' eyes shot behind him and he ran, shouting happily, “Papa!”
Dean stood. “Do not make me chase you, Lucas!” When he had turned and tugged his flowing, loosely belted tunic back into place over his rounded belly, he saw his son clinging to his father's leg and Castiel laughing down at the boy, ruffling a hand through his hair. Dean snarled. “Unless you have chosen to grace me with your presence to tell me that you have created a cage for your demon of a son, you may turn right back around and leave me be.” Castiel's expression grew concerned when he saw Michael, still sniffling and gripping Dean's hand tightly. “What has happened, my love.” Dean huffed angrily. “Lucas hit Michael with his horse and made him fall.” Castiel went to one knee before his son and gave him a stern look. “That was very naughty of you, son. You hurt your brother, are you sorry?” Lucas hung his head and looked up at his father from underneath feathery lashes. “Yes, sir.” Castiel nodded gravely and chucked his son under the chin.
His husband stood, straight and tall, and held out his hand for Dean. “Come here, my love. Let Charlie handle the boys for a while.” Charlie approached with a grin as Dean growled at her. She pulled Michael's hand from his and scooped him up in her arms, herding Lucas in front of her with a hand on his tousled brown head. “Time for a nap I think, darlings.”
- -
Dean crossed his arms over his stomach and shot poisoned arrows at him with his glare before storming off past him into the hall, the bitter, peppery sting of his anger masking the usually sweet scent of him. Castiel swallowed a sigh he knew would only make his mate angrier and followed. “My love, stop please...” He came up short as Dean rounded on him, face flushed and beautiful despite the furious snap of his green eyes. “I am always the villain, Castiel. Papa comes riding to their rescue and they never listen to me and they are willful and proud and disobedient...” Castiel's thoughts drifted only slightly as his husband rattled off his complaints, trying not to grin as Dean described himself in the early months of their marriage. Dean would never admit that his sons personalities came naturally to them, and they hadn't come from Castiel. He focused again sharply when he heard Dean curse and resume his frustrated path down the corridor. He winced, having been caught mind wandering, and hurried behind Dean. He reached out for his mate's arm right in front of the door to their chambers and he tensed, rooting himself in place. “I am sorry, my love...tell me what is wrong.” He felt the rigid tension of those shoulders sag and shock coursed through him when they began to shake with silent sobs.
He turned Dean gently to face him, cupping his cheeks in his hands. “Dean...” His mate crumbled against him, words coming in fits and starts as he cried. “I hate...f-feeling...like this...Castiel. I'm not...s-surprised...th-that you don't...want...anything to do....w-with me.” Castiel's heart ached and he slid two fingers under Dean's chin and tilted his head up. “My love, no. No.” He felt like an ass. “How long have you been feeling this way?” A look crossed Dean's face and he bit his lip, but did not answer. Castiel stroked his cheek. “How long, love?” Dean sighed. “Months, Castiel...” He whimpered when Castiel growled. His mate had been struggling with this alone, for months. “I-I feel so out of sorts with this baby, Castiel. Being forced to allow strangers to care for my children...I feel like they won't need me anymore. And...I am disgustingly large, tired and swollen and uncomfortable all of the time. I cannot comprehend why you would want to touch me like this.” Castiel was floored. He pushed Dean gently against the door and pressed a kiss to his parted lips. Dean's fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt and sobbed into the kiss.
He wrapped his arms around Dean and held him as tightly as his distended belly between them would allow. He stroked his mate's neck and hair and kissed him softly as his other hand dropped to rest against the evidence of their love. He had always found Dean beautiful, and pregnant he was radiant. Castiel had all but worshiped Dean through his previous pregnancies, and had been frustrated and confused when his efforts to do the same now were rebuffed time and again. It had never occurred to him that Dean might be feeling insecure and self-conscious about himself. And Dean had always been so very hands-on with the children, he should have known that seeing others in his role would be like a slap to the face.
He reached behind Dean and opened the door, moving them inside. Dean was listless and clinging limply to Castiel's arm as he backed him towards the bed. Castiel sat his mate on the edge of the mattress and knelt before him. He looked up at Dean as he stroked his fingers over every inch of the firm, rounded shape of his abdomen. “You are beautiful, my love. Never have I met someone so beautiful. Like this...” He dropped a kiss to the very top of his belly, feeling the soft woven fabric of his tunic beneath his lips. “Like this, with our child growing inside of you, my love, you are magnificent, a goddess. I would beg at your feet to simply look upon you if you would let me.” His hands slid to wrap around Dean's ankles, pulling his swollen feet from the stiff leather shoes with care. He bent one knee, raising the foot to press a kiss to the soft inner curve as he massaged. He repeated the action with the other foot and smiled when Dean began to relax.
- -
Dean sighed as Castiel's fingers worked their way up to his ankles, his calves, rubbing the hot, tingling pain from them, lips caressing in their wake. As he relaxed under the reverent touches and the comforting, reassuring scent of his strong, Alpha husband, cedar and orange and amber, he could smell his own scent losing the bitter tang that it had carried for so long. It mellowed, cinnamon undertones that expressed pleasure swirling with the smooth honey of his natural scent. He melted when Castiel's eyes raised to his, dark blue and full of wonder as he pulled a deep breath in through his nose. Dean could smell what lay beneath his scent now, a teasing note of yeast and freshly baked bread. Castiel rose to his knees and drew him in for a deep, searching kiss. “Our baby...” he whispered against Dean's lips with awe as he pulled back.
Castiel's mouth traveled to his neck, his shoulder as he climbed upon the bed and knelt behind him. Hands stroked and massaged his arms, his aching back as lips continued to kiss his neck, a nose nuzzling his ear. He moaned when Castiel's fingers dug into his lower back where the weight of the child tied his muscles into knots constantly. He leaned back into his mate's body in boneless bliss as the pain dissolved like sugar on the tongue.
Castiel led him back to rest on his side on the bed before fitting his body tightly against his mate's. He slid an arm beneath Dean's head so that he was tucked back securely into the warmth of his chest. A hand smoothed over his hip to his stomach and he linked his fingers with his husbands over their child. He turned his head and Castiel captured his lips, kissing him breathless until he laughed softly. He felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and he buried his face into Castiel's bicep with a sniffle he couldn't quite hide. Castiel's arm lifted enough to roll him over so that he was now looking at the firm chest revealed by the open ties of the work shirts his mate favored over the wardrobe full of richly embroidered tunics. Castiel raised his face. “What is it, my love?” Dean shook his head, leaning in to kiss him, heart so full of love he felt dizzy. “Thank you, Castiel.” His husband's face softened and he stroked his thumb over Dean's bottom lip. “I love you, Dean. Our children love you. You are loved.”
The frustration and hurt faded under the soft words whispered against his lips, and his world felt right once more. He was in the arms of the man he loved, their growing family was healthy and well, and he was at peace.