(A/N: Rated M for mature content and language.

Well. This started out as a way to redeem myself for not having Omega!Dean until now... I started with this idea: "He's Dean Winchester: Hunter of all the fuglies that go bump in the night, big brother, all around badass. But for 72 hours, every 53 days he was also a fully functioning Omega. Which was cool, too. Dean embraced his Omega status. Even if it started as a 'fuck you' to his dad, the elder Alpha sneering with open hostility and disappointment when he'd presented at 15 with Heat and embarrassed by slick-soaked boxers instead of popping a knot and chasing anything that smelled good. But now it's just because he likes being an Omega. Allowed to occasionally be soft, nurturing and all that shit he couldn't openly do if he was a knot-swinging Alpha.

And the multiple orgasms didn't hurt..."

THEN I found this prompt: "Omega!Dean is pregnant with his and Alpha!Cas' first child, and he's gained a little more weight than he planned, sneaking sweets all the time and letting his exercise routine slide. He's embarrassed by his new curves, but Cas adores them and loves worshiping Dean's body with his mouth and hands. Dean's soft double chin, his wide hips and growing love-handles, his chubby thighs, his squishy tushy—all things Cas loves to worship. Dean's self conscious about all of it, but he can't help but love Cas' adoration and attention. Whether or not actual sex is involved is totally up to author. I'd prefer no stuffing or anything. Cas just loves Dean's body in all its forms, and he know Dean needs the extra attention while his body is going through these changes."

Because Omega!Dean and Chubby!Dean are both my jams, I figured why not combine the two...? And it became this. So, here we are. I tried to keep Dean IC but sorta Omega-fy him at the same time? I see him as a leather coated marshmallow (most of the time) anyway, so I do not consider that OOC. I've been working on this one for a ridiculously long time, here and there, so it's mostly done (beside some tweaking and editing). It turned out fairly long, too; surprise! I was able to write over 50K of completely pointless smutty fluff. *tosses confetti around*

A few keywords to keep in mind if you continue: shameless fluff (seriously, all the fluff—if you want excessive amounts of angst, drama and/or conflict, you shan't find it here), some domestic feels, some smut with a soupçon of plot, A/B/O fic, Omega!Dean, made-up A/B/O "facts", mpreg (mostly just in mention; no actual birth or anything graphic), pregnancy/belly!kink, and Chubby!Dean.

Warnings/tags: AU/A-B-O. MalexMale slash. Language. Smut. Fluff. Chubby!Dean. Omega!Dean. Alpha!Castiel. Domestic fluff. Mpreg. Mentions of: knotting, self-lubrication, mating/Heat cycles, safe Heat sex [LOLwhut?].

Enjoy!)

Dean Winchester set aside the now-cleaned Beretta, making sure it stayed on the oilcloth he had spread over the dinged up table, and picked up the sawed-off. He carefully broke it down and started cleaning it next.

At the sound of thumping feet and the door opening, he looked up with a scowl. He nearly smiled, more than a little pleased to see both Alphas pause in the doorway, frozen like deer in headlights when they saw his expression.

"Feet," he said simply, gaze flicking down before he turned back to stuffing the cleaning pad down the shotgun barrel. He didn't need to watch to know Sam would opt to carefully pull his boots off, smack them together in the hallway in an attempt to clean them and then set them by the door.

His dad would just do a half-assed shuffle on the mat he had placed there before clomping towards the fridge. If it wasn't for the damn cleaning service that he let in twice a week, he'd bitch about the damn mud clumps all over the floor instead of just gritting his teeth and trying to remember where the hell he stowed the damn broom.

"Almost done?" Sam asked, flopping onto the bed nearest Dean.

Dean just nodded, pushing what he hoped was the last cleaning pad down the gun barrel. It popped out the other end clean. Awesome. He dropped the pad in the trash and looked up finally, his earlier scowl deepening. He ran his hands down his thighs, mostly just to give himself something to do so he wouldn't rush Sam's personal space and check him over for injuries.

Sam hated that shit since he'd popped a knot at 14 and complained every-damn-time Dean tried to show he actually gave a shit. He knew Sam wasn't a pup that needed his 'boo-boos' kissed and covered with a damn Band-Aid. Not that it stopped Dean from checking him over most times; Sam would just have to nut up and deal with it.

"What took you two so damn long?" Dean asked, maintaining a fairly even tone but he was still scowling enough to have Sam hunching his shoulders a little, his long hair swinging into his face. Dean bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't find the sight of a 6'4" Alpha looking like a scolded pup slightly adorable and very satisfying. He gave the sawed-off another wipe down and started putting it back together, rarely needing to look away from Sam as his hands worked.

"Got stuck," Sam said with a shrug, gaze flicking to where his boots were, still mud encrusted but slightly less-so. He nearly rolled his eyes when Dean's scowl somehow deepened, his mouth pulling down at the corners, but he didn't. He knew his brother was just worried and he didn't blame him; he'd be a blubbering mess if Dean and dad were off on a hunt that took nearly three times longer than expected. He'd be imagining all sorts of horrible shit and climbing the walls, instincts warring between finding his pack and obeying his Alpha father's orders to stay put.

It was tempting to shuffle over like a damn pup and let Dean have his Omega way with him, subtly scenting and checking him over, letting Dean see for himself he was fine, but Sam tried to limit that since he was old enough to know Dean shouldn't be doing that since they were brothers, Omega or not. There were lines, no matter how reassuring it was that someone actually gave a shit that he didn't wear his guts on the outside. As it was, he just flopped back onto the bed, carefully avoiding Dean's gaze but trying not to look like he was either.

Dean softly grunted out a scoff and put the guns away, wiping them all down a final time before setting them in the duffel carefully and zipping the bag up. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, and looked between his brother and dad. He didn't bother trying to hide the fact he was looking them over, eyes sharp for any signs of injury.

They both smelled OK, too. No blood; just wet earth, sweat, and their usual Alpha stink. Always a good sign.

As much as he wanted to fuss over the damn idiots, he knew neither Alpha would take it with any sort of grace unless they were close to dying or too exhausted to fight him off. Since they both were fine, he figured he'd let it go.

Dean slapped at his thighs and got up, walking into the kitchenette. "You guys hungry?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder briefly, as he headed towards the oven. As much as he loved a good diner burger dripping with grease, cheese and bacon, he preferred to make use of the kitchenette when they had one. Kept his hands and mind busy. And it was more satisfying to make something himself than plopping take-out bags on the table.

Sam perked up from where he was flopped over on the bed and shuffled towards the kitchen area, nose raised and sniffing deeply as Dean pulled something from the tiny oven. He groaned happily, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned closer and took a long, deep inhale of tomatoey herbs and browned cheese.

"Oh yeah," he breathed out, sounding ready to do more than just eat the damn thing. Damn but he was hungry, they'd skipped lunch in an effort to keep track of the wily werewolf. It had helped, of course, but his stomach gurgled loudly to remind him how empty it was.

Dean snorted a laugh and pushed at Sam's shoulder, forcing him away from the food. He was pleased, of course, feeling a warm wriggle of contentment every time Sam patted his belly or made a happy sound as he sniffed. There wasn't a whole lot he could do when his dad was being a king dick and insisted he stay in the room, but he could cook his ass off and make sure they were stuffed full of good food.

He was tempted to tell his dad to piss up a rope since he was still a bit pissed at him, maybe dump the steaming lasagna in his damn lap, but he just couldn't. It was definitely one of the few times Dean kinda-sorta resented that Omega instinct in him that reveled in caring for his pack, needed to look after them, enjoyed seeing them full and happy, content with life for a few moments when they were happy because of something he did.

Son of a bitch, it stung sometimes. But he'd learned to deal with it long ago.

Dean pulled the garlic bread out, carefully unfolding the foil to let the steam out, and cut into the lasagna, letting it cool a little before he found some sturdy paper plates. He set the forks on the table. The clattering noise of the utensils alerted both Alphas that dinner was ready to go. It was almost Pavlovian, really. And funny as hell watching them scramble towards the table, subtly shoving each other with elbows and shoulders to be in the lead.

He backed away enough so he wouldn't lose a limb or something in the rush of large, hungry Alphas. Dean just watched for a moment, a small smile on his face, content to go last only because he'd made enough to feed a small army.

╍●o●╍

"Fuck you. I can do whatever the hell I want!"

Dean's fists were clenched tight, his teeth ground together, as he stared at his father and hating that he sounded like a goddamn teenager. Still. It was true; he could do whatever the hell he wanted. Who the fuck did his father think he was, making demands and acting like he had a say in Dean's life—his fucking Heats—anymore? He took his damn regulators and the horse-pill sized birth control and suffered quietly, and alone, through the indignity of the fewer but just as intense Heats like any Omega did. Now he was going to do what he wanted and one Alpha with control issues was not going to stop him, dammit.

He'd skipped his regulators, yeah, but still managed to swallow the horse pill that was the birth control like always. He didn't necessarily like the feel of his unregulated Heats, not really, but he knew it was healthier, in the long run, to do the recommended skips every so often. Let his body do its thing without chemical interference every once in a while so they didn't do any permanent damage. He didn't let himself think on why he gave a shit, why he kept things running smoothly like it mattered in the long run, just followed the stupid little calendar thing that comes with his regulators.

It was stupid, really, but he did it anyway. It wasn't likely he'd have to worry about living to be old enough to see his Heats dry up or keep himself in top shape for pups—not really. But he couldn't seem to help himself. He still checked off the little boxes with each Heat, gaze flicking to the bold 'unregulated' blocks that loomed closer with each Heat ticked off. Sure, he was a little more clear-headed with the regulators in him, but it he didn't hate to go all out and be half-blissed with his Heat, horny and relatively happy to be unfettered for that little time.

Plus, the bonus of getting his own room away from glaring Alphas and their stink was nice, too.

Normally he was content with just holing up in a separate room with a big ass dildo, some Gatorade, and power bars for the duration. It wasn't that bad, really. It was almost fun to have a hall pass to do little else but jerk off, sleep and watch shitty daytime TV for nearly three days. But this time, he'd planned for something different. Something that would get to that deep-seated itch and scratch it just right...

And he was going to do it, regardless of what his father said. He wasn't some damn pup that could be ordered around.

John stepped closer, eyes narrowed. Dean didn't back down, of course, even if he was already lightly flushed and probably a bit feverish with his impending Heat, defiant even as he stood there rosy cheeked and glassy eyed. Damn boy was too damn stubborn for anyone's sanity.

"You aren't thinkin', boy. I let you go out there— Then what?" he demanded, index finger stabbing the air in the general direction of the door.

Dean threw his hands up, making a sharp sound of dissent. "What the fuck does it matter then what?" He really didn't think his dad was actually looking for an itinerary for the evening or a refresher on the birds and the bees. It was pretty damn obvious what would happen. He nearly squirmed with anticipation and excitement at the thought but stood still, didn't give his father the satisfaction. "I'm over thirty, dad, you can't do a damn thing if I want to go."

"As your Alpha, I can," John said, voice low and edging towards commanding. The audible sound of Dean's teeth grinding, tendons in his hands creaking as they fisted and clenched, nearly made him wince. But he didn't back down. He knew it was a low blow, but he was getting desperate. He'd seen enough clips on the nightly news, heard things that weren't just Urban Legends or rumors, and he couldn't ignore the sick feeling of anxiety coated fear thumping around in his gut at the thought of Dean out there, alone, during a Heat.

He knew the boy could easily defend himself against pretty much anyone, or anything, that was dumb enough to try him, but that instinct would be dulled when he was like this; wide-eyed and Heat-fevered, pliable and happy to ignore his good senses over his body's demands. Dean usually kept his head during his Heats, but the risk of the one time he didn't... It just wasn't worth it.

"Don't pull that shit," Dean said, eyes narrowed, voice low and dangerous as he pointed a finger at his glowering father. Omega or not, he'll fuck anyone up that tried to pull rank on him. Even his own pack. "I know you don't go around thinking that means a damn thing any other time, so don't pull it now."

Plus, he didn't exactly enjoy the reminder that he didn't have a proper Alpha—a Mate instead of his fucking father (and Sam, to a lesser extent). It was a definite sore spot, especially recently, and only made him that much more determined.

John sighed, shoulders slumping a little as he rubbed at his eyes. "No," he agreed.

He might've wanted better for his boy but he tried his damnedest not to think less of him for it; it wasn't like Dean could help being an Omega any more than he could've helped presenting as an Alpha shortly after his 12th birthday. He had expected the same for his first born, so they'd both been surprised when it hadn't worked out that way.

Those first few years Dean had presented had been tough, for both of them, but he'd thought they were past this angsty Omega bullshit. Dean was usually content to handle it on his own and he just didn't get what was driving his boy to be so damn stupid this time around.

"But you know I will if I need to," John added, trying to keep the apology out of his tone. He'd never apologized for doing what he thought was right for his boys, no matter how damn old they claimed to be, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now.

He almost wished Sam was there. He knew Dean would probably enjoy knowing he'd need another Alpha to restrain him if it came down to it. And he would, damn it all. Dean was an Omega, sure, but he was built like a damn Alpha and didn't pull his punches in a fight, never shy about fighting dirty when he had to. He almost regretted teaching the pup that when he'd been victim to Dean's right hook the first time (even if had been an accident because he didn't duck in time to avoid it when Dean was swinging for a werewolf that had him in a bear-hug from behind).

"Dad," Dean sighed, the anger draining out of him. It was exhausting, made his head hurt and his body cramp and throb in very unpleasant ways. He rubbed a hand over his face, covering his heated cheeks for a moment before letting his hand drop and looking at his father earnestly. Trying not to plead but he was really freakin' tempted to, just because he knew there was only so long his dad would be able to refuse.

"I just need this, okay?" he said, looking up, meeting his father's gaze steadily. He hadn't even been asking for permission when he'd walked past his father, keys in hand and a jaunty 'later' before he was stopped by a hand clamped around his arm and dragged back into the motel room before he could get out the door. It didn't take a proper scenting for his dad to know he was headed out, Heat in full affect. The only thing he'd taken for it was some damn Advil so he wouldn't be doubled over.

John slowly shook his head, holding his hands up when Dean was quick to scowl and tense up again. "I know—Well, I don't know, but I can imagine. The answer is still no, Dean."

Dean's jaw clenched. He wasn't asking for permission and he didn't freakin' need it. He couldn't imagine what the fuck his dad's problem was. What did he care if Dean went out for a quick fuck? Any other time, his dad didn't say a damn word about it. Even gave a nod of encouragement, a slap on the back when Dean eyed a nice looking woman and decided to try his luck.

It probably had more to do with the explicit knowledge that Dean would be seeking an Alpha, most likely a male. Mostly, Dean preferred the uncomplicated flirting and sex with Betas (or that one time with another Omega that he didn't tell anyone about), when he wasn't feeling the Heat itch. It didn't exactly hit the nail squarely on the head but it was enough to feel good and tide him over. He never sought out the occasional Alpha when his dad was around, never mentioned it aloud. He didn't quite understand what his dad's issue about it was, he was an Omega after all, but he didn't push his luck about it, either.

The anger was back, sparking hot under his skin and making his head pound and his temples throb with his heart beat. He almost wished he'd thought to take a low-dose regulator—Heat headaches were the fucking worst. If this kept up, he wouldn't want to do a damn thing but curl up with half a pie and season one of Dr. Sexy, M.D..

"Anything could happen, Dean," John said slowly, trying to ignore the acrid stink of Dean's rage that mixed cloyingly with his Heat scent. It never affected him beyond the urge to hole Dean up somewhere safe, away from harsh attitudes and cruel hands. He was less worried about someone taking advantage of his son's body than he was Dean's Heat addled state, Dean allowing some knothead to mate him when he wasn't thinking clearly and getting stuck with any Alpha that came sniffing around and managed to get past Dean's defenses.

Dean was so done. He was over this crap as soon as his dad yanked him away from the door. "So?" he demanded, voice hard, shoulders squared. "Then it's my own damn fault." He brushed past his father, just barely restraining the urge to slam a shoulder into his as he passed. But he really didn't want to get violent, not now. Not when he was teetering between getting a damn knot or stuffing his face.

He nearly blinked with surprise when he was outside without any further attempts to keep him in. Good. He would've hated to have to start swinging... He climbed in behind the wheel and sped out of the parking lot. He turned right, headed for the hole-in-the-wall bar he'd gone to earlier with Sam to get some extra dough at the pool tables. He remembered scenting a particularly delicious Alpha stink lingering when he hit the john before they left. If he was lucky, he'd find more than just a teasing scent.

╍●o●╍

It was easy enough to ignore the occasional cat-calls, even with his Heat itching under his skin and making it feel too damn small for his body. Most were half-hearted, anyway; a well-placed glare sending the jerkwads slinking back to their buddies or trying their luck with some other Omega. The back of his neck prickled with need and sweat and Dean successfully fought the urge to rub it.

None of these clowns smelled right, he couldn't imagine letting any of them near him, Heat or no Heat. He wasn't that far gone.

He sauntered towards the bar, shooting the blond Beta behind the bar a charming grin merely out of habit when she came close enough to get his order. "Whatever's on tap." She nodded and got busy, not at all swayed by his scent or flirty smile. Oh well, it wasn't like she was what he was looking for anyway. She took his 5 with a smile that almost looked genuine when he waved her off, indicating the change was hers.

He took a long sip of his beer, gaze roaming the bar as he licked foam from his upper lip. Pretty typical place, really. Mostly full of rowdy Alphas playing grab-ass near the pool tables and dart boards, a few Betas sprinkled in for some variety, the occasional cluster of Omegas scattered along the outer booths. He swiveled back around on his stool and sipped at his beer, enjoying the coldness as it went down.

If the crowd didn't change soon—preferably within the hour before he went completely batshit with his Heat and boredom—he'd either find a different bar or admit defeat, head back to his room and just use his damn knotted dildo. Again.

He was on his third beer and moments away from calling it a night when he smelled it; the most awesome, perfect thing ever. He turned to his right, eyes widening a little when he realized it was coming from right next to him, and he got a full blast of it. He blinked a few times, stunned stupid by the Alpha's scent scrambling his brains; it was the first time that had ever happened and he didn't know how to process it.

He wasn't all that surprised to feel heat surge and roll through his body in response, like a switch was flipped. He was surprised to feel a desire, that Omega center of his brain demanding he do something about this. Snag that delicious Alpha before anyone else could, drag him somewhere cramped and dark and cozy, spread out for him, show him how good Dean could be for the right Alpha.

"Excuse me," Dean said. He cleared his throat when the guy still didn't acknowledge him. He ended up having to tap the Alpha on the arm to get his attention. He was almost annoyed until the guy finally turned towards him and— Fuck. He found himself staring down the sexiest Alpha he'd ever seen. Normally he wasn't one to focus on things like looks, he always managed to find something worthwhile in people no matter what, but wow. Holy shit.

That jaw. Those eyes. That scent. Holy mother lode, batman. Dean nearly dove, nose first, into the guy's neck, wanting to worm his way under the slightly wrinkled trench coat collar and just camp out there for a while.

He didn't though because that was creeper shit and he was cooler than that, even when fidgeting and restless with Heat.

"Yes?" Castiel leaned closer, getting a strong scent of Omega, an alluring mix of leather, clean breezes and sweet musk that had his toes curling in his Oxfords and a growl rumbling in his chest. An Omega moments away from a full-blown Heat, if he was scenting right. He tamped down the baser urges rearing its head, demanding he take and mate, mark and protect. It wasn't easy, especially with the way the Omega was looking at him, lovely green eyes and eyelids coyly half lowered, face lightly flushed prettily and giving Castiel his full attention.

Shit. He probably should've stayed home. He was far from his Rut but the last thing he wanted to do was assault a gorgeous Omega just trying to have a drink. Or get into a fight as he foolishly tried to defend the Omega's honor against other would-be suitors should another Alpha approach, drawn close by the intoxicating scent and beautiful visage inches away from him. He didn't do such things and he was a little concerned he had to fight such urges so strongly.

Probably a bad sign. He should leave before anything untoward happened. Of course, the thought was gone, barely formed as it was, when the Omega leaned in closer, eyes dark and lips pulled into a flirty smile. He stared, he couldn't help it.

"What's your name, Alpha?" Dean asked, swaying closer. His eyes fluttered closed when he got another blast of that awesome scent. He used to think that scent-drunk crap was completely made up bullshit, something to help sell cologne and perfume or something. But another hit of cedar, ozone, spice and something oddly sweet—something earthy and dark, like honey—nearly had his eyes rolling back in his head as his ass and thighs tingled warmly with anticipation and arousal, his dick twitching in his jeans.

The Alpha shifted closer and Dean nearly grabbed onto the wrinkled tan fabric of the too-big trench coat and pulled him outside without evening bothering with names. Who the fuck needed names, anyway? He could probably make it to the backseat of his car before he'd have to get on his knees—

"Castiel."

Dean swallowed a groan at that voice, deep as fuck and made for sin. He could already feel it vibrating against his neck or ear if Castiel leaned in close and talked dirty, telling Dean all the awesome things he could—and would—do with his (awesome) hands or his knot. He nearly shivered, thighs pressing together subtly as heat pooled low and sweet.

He grinned and fluttered his eyelashes dramatically. "Awesome, now I know what I'll be screaming later." He added in a wink, just to complete the over-the-top flirting, really make it clear he was interested. He was not disappointed to see Castiel's hands grip the bar's edge in a white-knuckled grip as he made a very pleasing sound deep in his throat; the sound low and all Alpha and sending another hot tingle through him.

"And you are?" Castiel asked, turning in his seat and giving the Omega his full attention. His beer sat, forgotten and growing warm, on the bar as he eyed the man openly. Eagerly. He'd never been flirted with so outrageously but he found himself responding nonetheless. It was probably the warm, enticing scent of this Omega and the bright eyes surrounded by freckles luring him in like a Siren's song.

Dean leaned in close, slowly running his tongue along his bottom lip as he pointedly looked Castiel over. He normally didn't practically crawl into strange Alpha's laps, for fuck's sake. But Castiel was watching him closely, those blue eyes dark and intense, and there was no freakin' way he was walking away from all that if there was the slightest chance he'd be mounted by this gorgeous Alpha within the hour. "Dean."

"Dean," Castiel repeated slowly, savoring the single syllable, gaze tracking the tongue making another swipe at a plump lower lip. The smattering of freckles across Heat-pinked cheeks. The lovely green eyes, dilated with arousal and Heat. Carefully styled hair that had his fingers digging into the bar edge again so he wouldn't touch, rearrange and groom it like he was itching to.

He remained stock still when Dean drifted closer. He watched, slightly wary, as Dean did so, chest visibly expanding against his dark T-shirt as he unashamedly scented Castiel.

Dean couldn't help himself, he leaned in again, his nose nearly brushing the smooth tan fabric over Castiel's shoulders. He inhaled deeply, eyes half closing as he smothered a moan. Goddamn but the Alpha smelled awesome; like eating the world's best pie in the middle of a forest. He didn't say a word when Castiel's head shifted a little, the Alpha's nose close enough to his ear to make his skin tingle and prickle with expectation. Not that there was any touching, Castiel seemed to be very careful about that.

He nearly pouted, confused and a little put-out Castiel wasn't doing anything. By now, he should be saying how delicious Dean smelled and there'd at least be a hand on his ass. Well. At least an attempt to put a hand on his ass (not that Dean would put a stop to it at the moment like he usually would).

Castiel remained motionless, still unsure of Dean's intentions. It wasn't entirely unheard of for some people to be a little... personal when interacting with another in social circumstances. He wouldn't take the scenting as anything other than Dean getting to know him. Even when the Omega moaned softly, leaning back with a blissed out expression on his face, heavy-lidded eyes dark with arousal and directed at him shamelessly.

He was tempted... but he also knew that simple physical arousal did not mean consent. He'd been told so from a young age, his mother firm and calm when they talked of such things.

It had been an embarrassing hour-long discussion and he'd listened as best he could through his mortification and embarrassment as his mother spoke of things even Sexual Education class didn't. He didn't know whether to be calmed or even more embarrassed at his mother's no-nonsense tone as she spoke of knots and slick and mating. Regulators and birth control options, the pros and cons between the knotless and knot-hugging condoms. That hormones and pheromones aided mating, shouldn't rule them.

But he hadn't fully learned that last lesson until he was 17; he'd been waiting for a bus and the Omega next to him had the misfortune of going into Heat right then. The scent of it practically exploding in the small area under the covered bus stop as she whimpered softly, hunched over and clutched at her purse strap in a bid to have it cover her protectively, wide, scared eyes darting around in panic.

He was a young Alpha, quick to be aroused by nearly every pleasing scent and visual. But, luckily, as alluring as her Heat scent was, it hadn't immediately triggered a Rut, a common enough problem for Alphas young enough their Ruts hadn't equalized yet, still learning how to control the wild impulses. One look into her panicked, fear-wide eyes had been enough to dampen any beginnings of arousal that had kicked in instinctually.

Castiel hadn't wanted anything from her before and he still didn't. His mother's words echoed in his head and he'd finally understood...

He'd carefully removed his coat and offered it to the Omega, unsure how he felt about her look of shock that nearly overtook the one of embarrassment still pinking her cheeks. The wary way she reached out to take his coat, snatching it quickly, careful to keep their hands from touching. The two hasty steps back she took as she tied it around her waist, eyes on him like awaiting attack. He was definitely unsure how to take the way she cocked her head, eyes narrowed and suspicious, like she was confused he wasn't doing anything inappropriate and clearly fighting the urge to bolt so he wouldn't be tempted to chase.

Her 'thank you' had been quiet, spoken to his chest, but heart-felt enough Castiel hadn't been able to control the impulse to sooth her discomfort, awkwardly patting her shoulder once before backing away again, shoulders bowed and hands dangling at his sides in a show of supplication to her. Her panic-wide eyes had met his only for a moment before she backed away, the bus and her plans for the day forgotten as she hurried down the side-walk—hopefully back to her home, to safety and privacy.

It had been a sobering experience.

Castiel looked around, trying to see if there was an Alpha near Dean he needed to converse with. It wasn't exactly dark ages where Omegas didn't go out unescorted or risk assault or that it was required getting 'permission' for anything from anyone but the Omega in question... But Dean smelled of two Alphas, and he didn't want to overstep any boundaries. It wasn't the scent of a Mate, just pack, but it clung heavily enough to the Omega to suggest a close bond.

Dean looked behind him with a frown, following Castiel's gaze. "What?" he asked, turning back to Castiel. His fingers itched to run through Castiel's dark hair, drag his fingertips along that insane jaw covered with dark scruff and yank the Alpha's head back to him, demanding his sole attention.

He sat still, though, because he did not throw himself at anyone. No matter how fuckhot they were or how awesome they smelled.

"See someone hotter over there?" Dean asked playfully.

He was teasing, of course, but the thought had his smile faltering and looking over his shoulder again with narrowed eyes for the possible competition. A low growl rumbled in his chest and—Jesus, he was seconds away from finding out who it was and slapping a bitch like some Omega-fight fetish video. He took a deep breath and focused on grabbing his beer, draining it in two long gulps.

For fuck's sake, he hated shit like this, he reminded himself. It was why he usually just took care of himself and avoided Alphas for the most part.

"No," Castiel said, blinking at Dean with surprise. He'd traveled extensively and he couldn't remember coming across anyone 'hotter' than the Omega currently in front of him, flirty smile back in place now that he had Castiel's full attention again. He stared for a moment, caught up in watching Dean do obscene things with an agile, pink tongue to the empty beer bottle before lightly shaking his head, regathering his thoughts. "I just— No. I was merely checking? Something..." he muttered, trailing off.

He wasn't normally adept at picking up social cues, having been told more than once he was oblivious and his people skills were horrendously rusty, but he was confident he was reading Dean correctly. He leaned in closer, his hand fluttering over Dean's knee for a brief moment. The Omega stilled, body tensed but in a way he recognized as anticipatory, not disgust or rejection, and the intoxicating scent of arousal seemed to thicken as he met Dean's eyes.

Castiel knew he wasn't misreading the situation. He felt confidence surge through him and he leaned in a little more, "Would you care to accompany me back to my hotel room?"

And suddenly he was glad he made use of the complementary lodgings that he'd nearly refused. He lived only an hour's drive from here, but everyone attending the convention had been given a room at the hotel for the evening. He'd only intended to use it for a quick shower before heading home, but now...

Dean laughed, he couldn't help it. Why was the sexiest Alpha he'd seen in forever a complete dork? It might've been a little adorable... But he didn't really give two shits about adorable right now, just the promise of the sizable bulge in Cas' dark poly-blend slacks and the way the Alpha's eyes were practically fucking him already. He smothered the urge to moan and attach himself to the Alpha's front and lick him all over.

Later. Definitely later...

He nodded and tried not to gape like a complete idiot when Castiel held out a hand and helped him off his stool. "Uh. Dude," he muttered, gaze zeroing in on the firm hand cupping his elbow and the one around his forearm. It was total cornball move and Jesus the guy had a grip. Dean nearly panted and rubbed himself on Castiel's leg as he imagined it elsewhere on his body.

"Apologies," Castiel murmured, slowly retracting his hands. He hadn't been able to help himself. His mother had instilled a sense of chivalry in him from an early age that was hard to ignore, regardless of whom he was interacting with. He still sometimes forgot some people, mainly Omegas, didn't react well to it sometimes; mistaking it for condescension or a sign of dominance.

He waved a hand, indicating Dean should lead. He was quick to follow, unable to stop himself from placing a hand at the small of Dean's back as they hurried out the door. He stopped when Dean did, looking around the parking lot. The night breeze did nothing to dilute the scent of Dean and he leaned in just enough to get another nose full of it.

"I have a car," Castiel offered after a moment when Dean didn't move.

"Yeah, so do I," Dean said. He turned to Castiel and raised an eyebrow. "I ain't leaving mine here," he added. No matter how awesome and sexy Castiel was, how badly he was aching to get the show on the road to Boinkville, he was not leaving his Baby in some podunk bar's parking lot for who knew how long.

Castiel nodded. "I can follow you? Or..." he trailed off, leaving options open for Dean. He didn't often do this sort of thing and he was admittedly a little out of his depth with protocol one followed. Was he meant to follow Dean in his car? Was it usual to take the same car and get dropped off later? Should he just ride with Dean and worry about the details later? He glanced over at Dean, smiling reflexively when he saw the look Dean was giving him.

"You want me to drive, sweetheart?" Dean asked, turning into the Alpha's personal space, voice teasing and laden with innuendo. Castiel nodded, swallowing loudly and blue eyes dilating, zeroing in on his mouth for a moment before meeting his eyes again. Dean grinned and cocked his head towards the back of the lot. Castiel was quick to follow until they finally made it to his car, all alone and scratch free. He patted her hood, pleased by her still-pristine condition.

They were alone in the dark parking lot, so Dean didn't hesitate in pushing up into Castiel's personal space, pinning the Alpha against the shiny black quarter panel, and demanding a kiss when Castiel's gaze slid over his Baby and he complimented her, voice low with genuine appreciation.

It was harder than he expected to pull away from the Alpha's lips, his own tingling and feeling a little hot and puffy from the kiss. He groaned a little and pecked a few more kisses on Castiel's slack mouth and down his neck before he forced himself to step back and fish his keys out of his pocket. He was already pleasantly hot and damp between his cheeks, he really didn't want to risk leaking in public. It didn't happen often, he rarely got that wet even in Heat, but he had an idea Castiel could be the Alpha that would do it.

"I'll follow you," Dean said, swinging his keys around his finger.

Castiel nodded and reluctantly removed himself from Dean's personal space. He took a deep breath and took his keys from his pocket but didn't move yet. He just... stared; looking at Dean for long moment. The Omega somehow managed to look even more enticing, clothing rumpled and hair mussed from Castiel's fingers, lips still spit-slick and temptingly plump from their kisses.

Intoxicating.

He reached for Dean again but a hand on his chest kept him from moving any closer. Had Dean changed his mind? As much as he didn't look forward to having to deal with the erection the Omega had coaxed out so easily on his own, he would respect Dean's choice. He could only make a soft sound of confusion, looking up to meet Dean's eyes.

Smiling eyes, the green dark and nearly sparkling, lips pulled into a flirty smile. He was powerless to do anything but return it and lean in once more.

"Ho there, Tonto," Dean said and chuckled. "Keep it in your pants until we get to your room."

Tempting as it was to get right to it, his Heat itching and prickling under his skin something fierce now and making the very thought of just having Cas bend him over the hood sound like the best idea since someone figured out ice cream was awesome on pie, he couldn't afford the public indecency charge. He knew his dad would refuse to bail him out as his own personal brand of 'serves you right' and he was quick to stop any riding-the-Alpha-in-the-backseat thoughts by thinking about spending the night in jail, in Heat...

Castiel nodded and stepped away again, reining in the urges to push against Dean and tempt him into the leather-clad back seat. It might be a bit cramped, but it was right there...

"Yes," he said, clearing his throat. He took another step back and headed towards his own car, looking over his shoulder a few times to make sure Dean was still there. He was almost tempted to believe this wasn't real, that Dean would drive off in his pretty car, laughing at the gullibility of some Alphas.

Dean did get into his car, the motor starting with a rumbling growl that settled into a low purr, but he waited for Castiel. And if he drove most of the way back to his hotel room with his gaze on the rear view mirror, ensuring the big black car and Dean's silhouette were still behind him, no one else had to know.