Title: Referral (Part of the Snapshots 'Verse)
Word Count: ~3k
Warnings: switching (dominant!Cas bottoms), mentions of MPreg and knotting, self-lubrication
Summary: Charlie refers Dean to a specialist.
Notes: Totally unbeta'd. SHAMELESS FILLER I APOLOGIZE.
Dean wakes up to a very pleasant sensation – Castiel's warm, wet tongue sinking into him from behind, the dominant's thumbs digging into his cheeks to spread him wide open, and Dean groans softly, rubbing his forehead against their pillows and shoving his hips back for a moment before he remembers himself.
"Cas?" he hazards, looking over his shoulder and huffing out a small breath when Castiel merely hums. His wings are twitching and puffed up with arousal and Dean's sure his own look no better, but that doesn't detract from the fact that his body is leaking slick and Castiel knows that they can't – he can't -. "Whatcha doin'?"
Finally, the dominant Angel pulls back, wiping the back of his hand across his shiny chin and giving Dean room to roll over onto his back, which Dean does, quickly, and looks on with wide eyes as the dominant flattens his body over his mate, wings spread out and pushing down on Dean's as Castiel kneels over him, one knee on either side of Dean's torso. "I want you, Dean," he murmurs, kissing his mate fervently, needing, and Dean moans when Castiel grinds down and wraps one damp hand around the submissive's erection. Dean arches up, letting out another soft sound against Castiel's mouth.
"If I'd -." He breaks off, hissing softly and surging up to wrap his arms around Castiel as the dominant guides himself down onto Dean's cock, just a little too dry and a little too tight but Castiel doesn't seem to mind – they'd had sex several times over the course of last night and if Castiel wants to, then Dean will let him. "If I'd known you were so into this, I'd have suggested it a lot sooner."
Castiel's nails dig into his shoulders, stifling a soft, instinctive growl against Dean's neck as he settles on Dean's lap, body clenching up tight, wings twitching and flaring out high in a dominance display that Dean eagerly tucks his wings into, surrendering control to Castiel. "I've missed you," Castiel replies simply. "I love you, and I want to mate with you. By whatever means necessary."
"Yeah," Dean says, swallowing loudly, eyelids fluttering as Castiel starts to move. Their wing oil is mixing together, and it helps the glide a little bit, and Castiel doesn't look like he's in pain and he's not snarling at Dean like he did those first few times, so he has to assume his mate is alright. "Yeah, I." He swallows again, throat clicking. "Me too."
Castiel smiles – this wonderful, adoring smile – and kisses Dean until the submissive Angel is breathless and arching up against him, desperate for the connection of their wings and their bodies and their mouths. "Can we try…?" Castiel coughs, lifting his chin up and looking at some point above Dean's head for a moment, before he looks down again and their eyes meet. "I'd like to try being on my back." Dean sucks in a breath, eyes wide. "Would you like that, Dean?"
"Fuck, Cas," Dean breathes out, pulling Castiel forward for a kiss, hips bucking up, wings twitching. The dominant growls just softly, tilting his head back to force Dean to tuck his head underneath. "Tell me – tell me when I can," the submissive Angel whispers, because if he forces Castiel onto his back before the dominant is ready and calm, things can get violent real fast and Dean doesn't want to hurt Castiel or ever make him feel forced or out of control. He knows that feeling, and it's scary as fuck, and he doesn't want Castiel to ever have to suffer that.
Castiel rumbles softly, taking a deep breath, and wraps his arms tight around Dean's shoulders. "Slowly, Dean," he warns, but the submissive is way ahead of him for that – dominant Angels are strong, they don't need to be treated delicately, but it's a fine line right now between threat and passion and Dean doesn't want to fuck this up.
He settles Castiel onto his back, rolling his hips deep into his mate so that it doesn't feel like he's pushing into Castiel from all sides, and rears back so that most of his weight is on his arms and shoulders instead of his mate. Castiel breathes, eyes half-lidded and dark, upper lip subtly curling back, his calves dragging up Dean's sides, thighs bracketing Dean's hips and holding on tight.
"You okay?" Dean whispers, hardly daring to move, and Castiel swallows, nodding slowly, his hands spreading out wide and running up Dean's arms softly enough to raise goose bumps on the submissive's skin, his golden wings twitching and spreading out in anticipation of his dominant's touch.
"Keep them out," Castiel orders, his eyes darting from one wing to another, smiling slightly as his fingers bury themselves deep into the thick, soaking feathers. Dean moans softly, hips stuttering inside of his mate, fingers clenching tight in the sheets on either side of Castiel's shoulders. His arms are shaking and he can't keep his weight up, lets his forehead drop to rest against his mate's sweaty collarbone.
"Please, Cas," Dean murmurs, teeth clenching, wings shivering and spread out wide. "Please."
"Okay, Dean," the dominant replies softly, tilting his head to place a kiss to the top of Dean's head. He takes another deep, slow breath, and rocks his hips up to force Dean back, lets himself relax as his mate thrusts forward again.
"Gotta lean down, Cas, can't -." Dean hisses, stifling a soft growl behind his teeth as he rolls his hips deeper inside of his mate. Castiel feels so tight and hot, the whole situation has him tingling and on edge and it feels like he's about to lose his damned mind. "Can't keep myself up – please, I -."
"Just a little longer," Castiel growls, dropping one hand to wrap around his cock, stroking quickly and tight to try and get himself off while Dean trembles and pants above him. His other hand braces against his mate's shoulder, pushing against Dean to keep some space between them. The submissive Angel moans softly, trembling, throwing his head back, sweaty and flushed, and Castiel's hand moves to his throat, acting as a deterrent and a soft warning. "That's it, Dean -."
Dean curls himself around Castiel, cupping the back of his head, his wings twitching and spreading out wide as his orgasm crashes into him. Castiel coaxes him through it, free hand leaving his cock and spreading through Dean's twitching, oil-soaked wings as the submissive Angel spills inside of him, shuddering and shaking, before he pulls out, breathless and dazed and exhausted.
Then, he blushes, looking down at where Castiel is still hard, cock lying against his stomach. "Sorry," he murmurs, kissing Castiel's temple before pushing himself backwards and nuzzling his mate's erection, taking him quickly into his mouth and sucking him down. Castiel's breath leaves him in a large exhale, his fingers moving from Dean's red and sore throat to lace through his sweaty hair, tugging him to a good angle and pushing him further, to take more.
"That's it, Dean," Castiel praises softly, letting his head fall back as he stares up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the wet heat of Dean's mouth. He hadn't been particularly close to orgasm before but Dean's clever tongue is quickly getting him there.
They both freeze as the phone begins to ring, Dean's rhythm stuttering just slightly, and Castiel growls at him. "They'll leave a message," he says, arching his hips up into Dean's mouth, making the submissive Angel moan softly and return to his task. Dean relaxes his throat, giving Castiel more room to buck up into the black-winged Angel is gripping his head in both hands and knotting his fingers tight in Dean's damp hair, head thrown back and snarling as he spills down Dean's throat.
Dean pulls back as Castiel begins to soften, nuzzling and licking his cock to push him through the aftershocks until Castiel's hands gentle and don't grab so much as pet and cradle his head, Dean's dark green eyes watching his mate's face and twitching wings for any sign of lingering violence or threat.
Finally, Castiel sits up, pulling Dean with him into a kiss. "That was…intense," he admits, making Dean release the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in a shaky laugh. He pulls Dean into another kiss, chasing the taste of himself on Dean's tongue and licking at his mate's mouth until Dean relaxes and melts into his touch.
"Do you have anywhere to be today?" Dean murmurs against his mouth, pushing forward until his legs straddle Castiel's waist, his wings tucking in underneath the heavier, coarser feathers of Castiel's. The slick between his legs drags wetly across Castiel's flaccid cock and makes him shiver, wishing with all his might that he had been able to feel it. Soon, maybe – depending on what the ultrasound says. It's only a few days away but Castiel has never remembered feeling this impatient – he just wants to know, wants to know if he is an expectant father or the lover of a distraught and confused submissive Angel. He feels that he can be prepared for either instance; he just needs to know.
Dark blue eyes flash to their bedside clock, and he growls in annoyance. "I have a shift in just over an hour," he grumbles, his fingers absently petting over Dean's silky feathers, loving the way they glide between his fingers like water. "And traffic will be Hell. I'll need to leave sooner rather than later."
Dean hums, kissing him briefly, deeply, in a way that catches at Castiel's breath and makes him ache in a way he can't quite describe. "Why don't you shower, and I'll see who was on the phone, and then make us breakfast?"
Castiel smiles. "That sounds wonderful, Dean," he says, kissing his mate one more time before the golden-winged Angel separates them, running quickly to the bathroom to wipe down his own legs and cock and his flanks where his oil leaked out before relinquishing the bathroom to Castiel. They kiss once more before Dean goes downstairs and Castiel dedicates the next few minutes to getting himself ready for the day.
There's a little red light blinking on the side of the answering machine, indicating a left message, and Dean puts it on speaker as he warms up the hob and starts rifling through the fridge to decide what to make;
"Hey, Dean," Charlie's voice drifts, chipper and static-laced from the machine, "I'm just calling to let you know that I wanted to pass your case onto a colleague of mine. He's an actual OB-GYN and probably a lot better to talk to about your options and plans and can give you tests now that you're closer to your ultrasound date. His name is Balthazar Roche and he knows to expect your call. Good luck." She rattles off a number at the end of the message before the small 'click' and the mechanical voice listing his options regarding her message.
Frowning, Dean repeats it in time to scrawl down the name and number before deleting it. He almost jumps when strong, warm arms wrap around him from behind and he feels the tickle of Castiel's wet hair against the back of his neck. "Who was it?" he asks.
"Charlie," Dean replies, turning his head to receive the kiss Castiel places along his jaw. The dominant Angel hums, moving away and taking Dean's place at the fridge. "She referred me to a different doctor. A specialist."
"Well, that's good, right? It means maybe we can get some more detailed options and better tests for you," Castiel says, straightening and folding his arms over the top of their fridge door, seemingly uncaring for the draft he's getting across his wet wings.
"Yeah, I just." Dean bites his lip, wings fanning the air to feign nonchalance and trying to find a less pussy-ish way to say what he's feeling. "Charlie's been my doctor for years, you know? I've never had to. To use anyone else."
He shrugs one shoulder, folding his arms over his chest. Castiel frowns, closing the fridge door and going over to his mate in an attempt to kiss away the frown marring his handsome features. "Would you like me to make the appointment?" he offers.
Dean snorts, rolling his eyes, one of his wings pushing at Castiel's chest to give him space. "I'm not a kid, Cas. I can do it myself."
The older Angel nods, chewing on his lower lip. "Would you like me to accompany you, at least?"
Dean deflates, nodding. "Yeah," he admits, turning back to the phone.
"Alright. I know it'll be cutting it close, but you know my schedule over the next few days. I'll make breakfast," Castiel says, obediently falling silent when Dean dials the last digit and puts the phone to his ear, his finger to his lips. There's bacon and potatoes and eggs in the fridge and Castiel has absorbed enough of Dean's cooking lessons to be able to make at least that, so he starts the fry-up and does his best to look like he's not listening too hard to Dean's half of the conversation.
By the time the bacon and eggs are being loaded onto a plate, the potatoes still happily sizzling away, Dean enters the kitchen with a heavy sigh. "Well, that's that. We've got an appointment tomorrow afternoon. Four."
Castiel nods, frowning. "That's only a few days before your ultrasound," he says thoughtfully, chewing on a strip of crispy bacon. "Perhaps this doctor can give you another test, one that will render the ultrasound moot." His bright eyes flash to his mate's, noting the tightness around his eyes. "Would you trust a negative pregnancy test at this point?"
Dean shrugs one shoulder. "I haven't had any more morning sickness," he replies, and that is all he says on the matter. Castiel hums, serving up the finely diced potatoes along with Dean's serving of food, and they eat standing up in the small kitchen, before Castiel has to go to work and Dean has time to catch his own shower and clean up before he leaves for his afternoon classes.
Doctor Roche is nothing like Dean had been expecting – though really, since Charlie hadn't seemed too bothered about referring him, he needn't have worried. For one thing, the man is a submissive Angel, and though Dean doesn't want to think about what kind of person that makes him, it does help to relax him somewhat.
His office smells clean and faintly of antiseptic – in a reassuring way, not in a nauseating way – and the chairs are comfortable and a light pastel purple. He's silver-haired and blue-eyed, with smile lines around his mouth and eyes and an energy to him that makes Dean feel almost giddy, like actually possibly being pregnant isn't the worst thing that could ever happen to him. He had greeted Dean and Castiel with a firm handshake and Dean is almost ridiculously glad to smell another dominant's scent on him, so he doesn't even feel the ridiculous instinct to shield his own mate from the view of the other submissive.
"So, Mister Winchester, I understand you've got an ultrasound scheduled in a couple days. Charlie explained a little bit about your case to me, but I'd rather hear about it from you in person." Balthazar's kind eyes flash to Dean's from over the top of his open folder.
The golden-winged Angel blushes when he feels Castiel's gaze turn to him as well, self-conscious. He hasn't even officially had this conversation with Castiel, not in explicit detail, and the fact that this is the first Castiel will hear of it makes him feel vulnerable and open in a way he rarely feels anymore. As though sensing that, Castiel's hand reaches across to his and squeezes.
He takes a breath. "Cas and I have been together for…God, like eight months now. Maybe. And I was on suppressants that stopped my Heat and scent and oil and all of it, basically, when we first met. But…" His blush darkens and he sneaks a glance to Castiel, squeezing his fingers and glad for the answering pulse he receives. "I mean, I wanted to change that – get on ones that were more birth control than suppressants, you know? But I guess I'd been on them too long. My doctor when I was younger told me it could happen – hormone build-up, stuff like that, but I'd honestly thought it would never matter. That I'd never meet anyone I…that I wanted to change that for."
Balthazar is nodding, smile gentle and kind, and Dean feels like if he looks at Castiel right now he might actually start breaking down right in front of him. He takes another deep breath, squaring his shoulders and fanning his wings.
"Anyway, I changed my meds, and then Cas and I worked through my first Heat after, and. I mean. I'm not ready for kids – I'm really not. I mean, I love them, but I don't think I can handle them in my life right now. But I don't want to, like, 'take care of' it if I do have one. So. I guess I'm just here because I can't even tell anymore and I really, really want answers."
Castiel stirs, then. "We were also hoping for a possible other method of birth control, since this one has proven unreliable and given us such a scare."
Balthazar nods, sitting back. "Yes. Your estrogen levels are quite something, Dean. We can blame that on being so long under the more repressive medication but, with your permission, I'd like to take some blood and urine samples, and also some samples of your wing oil to test further and see if we can get this whole mess straightened out."
Dean was already nodding before he'd finished. "Thanks, Doc," he says, smiling, already feeling like a huge weight has lifted from him. Balthazar smiles, pushing himself to his feet.
"I'll start putting your paperwork through the lab. We can get started right away. In the meantime." He pauses next to a large cabinet, opening it and pulling out two small plastic bottles with screw tops, one larger and wider than the other. "Oil in here," he says, handing over the larger one, "urine in the other. The bathroom's just down the hall."
Dean smiles, standing and raising an eyebrow in Castiel's direction. "Might need help with the oil one," he says, causing the dominant Angel to blush slightly and roll his eyes.
"Very well," he replies, squeezing Dean's hand again and following him out of the office.