Word Count: ~600 words
Warnings: Crack, Aliens, Alien Sex, Discussions of Mpreg, Unexplored Backstory
Summary: Wherein Castiel broaches a delicate subject and Dean reacts unfavorably.
("i'm so sorry" she whispers, head in her hands
"i just couldn't stop myself")
in mpreg where does the baby come out?
the urethra? the butt hole? magic?"
"... I'm sorry, what did you just say?"
"Dean," Castiel says warmly, squeezing his fingers. "I'd like you to bear my children."
"Uh huh," Dean says, trying and failing to draw his hand back. "That's— that's exactly what I thought you said. Right. Listen, Cas—"
"My time on this planet has been some of the happiest in all my centuries," the alien continues, seemingly oblivious to Dean's increasingly nonsubtle attempts to pull away. "When I first came here, your people knew nothing of other worlds, other stars. We've shown them so much, together. We saved the galaxy."
"Yep, awesome, BBFs for life," Dean says, strained, yanking at Castiel's grip on his arm. "And, really, I'm— really flattered that you asked, but I'm not exactly equipped for babies, sorry. Could you—?"
"Gender does not enter into the equation," Castiel says earnestly, staring up at Dean with those luminous blue eyes. Dean's only seen Cas outside of his human meatsuit once, and the eyes are the only things that carry over. "Because Anheli are sexless and possessed of all necessary genetic materials needed to create new life, it only remains to find a willing carrier."
"Oh my God," Dean says, "that's— this is really TMI, Cas—"
"The ovipositor is inserted into an orifice—it can be any orifice, although from what I understand of human anatomy I would suggest the anal, for your comfort upon insertion and for its proximity to the abdominal cavity to accommodate the growth of the fetus."
"Holy fuck," Dean says faintly.
"The egg, once deposited, attaches itself to the nearest wall of tissue and is absorbed through and it grows to maturity in the body cavity. It survives by linking to its carrier's circulatory system and is not anymore detrimental to the carrier's health than I understand human-normal gestation to be."
"You need to let go of my hand now."
"There are a few mineral compounds native to my homeworld I will have to synthesize for you," Castiel muses. "I assume you will wish to remain close to Sam and Bobby while gravid."
"Gravid," Dean sputters, "no, I—"
"This will be my first depositing," Castiel says, pinking at the ears and cheek, looking up at Dean through his lashes. "I thought I would never produce offspring, with the war."
"How— how does it even come out?" Dean asks, weakly. "I mean, does it— oh God, does it come out my—?"
"A minor feat of surgery," Castiel assures him, grabbing his other wildly waving hand now. "Very minor. In less enlightened times, the child was left to burrow its own way out, but we've moved beyond—"
"I am not having your alien chestburster babies, do I look like that chick from 'Alien' to you—"
"What?" Dean yells, panting, still struggling. He's about two seconds from gnawing off his own arms if it means he'd be able to escape this conversation, Christ, ever since Cas set down in their Kansas cornfield his life's just gone from insane to batshit to alien ass babies—
"Dean, I love you," Castiel says sadly.
— and shit.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," the alien continues, looking down at his feet.
"Uh," Dean says. Swallows. "Maybe... maybe lead with that next time?" he says weakly.
"And I want children with you."
Dean groans. "Can we not talk about this?"
Castiel has a determined set to his jaw, but he nods, finally. "Later, then."
"Fine," Dean says grumpily, and lets Cas draw him back down.