cloudy_fic: (Default)
[personal profile] cloudy_fic
Title: Walk a Mile
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, implied Sam/Gabriel
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 13, 400+
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Warnings: genderswap, smut
Summary: Gabriel's deal is worth saving Bobby's life. Still, being stuck as a woman for three weeks is not Dean's idea of a good time.
Author's Notes: I wrote much of this on twitter ages ago and then it was lost to the twitlonger ban. So I pulled it together, finished it up and here it is! I'm planning several one-shots set in the time between the end and the epilogue as well as telling Sam's side of the story. Enjoy!

"I heard you call." Castiel's stance is even more rigid than usual. "You sounded so urgent, I didn't know-"

"S'ok," Dean hears himself say, but the voice is unrecognizable. Light and breathy, so feminine and absolutely wrecked. It answers his question about whether dildos are worth the trouble. He's willing to bet it's not better than sex, but yeah, pretty fucking awesome. "I didn't mean, I mean, I didn't know I was doing it."

Maybe it's the endorphins, but Dean's embarrassment is nowhere to be found. Fuck it. Thinking about Castiel had made that orgasm twice as powerful. And Dean's never been one to pass up feeling as good as possible.

"I should, well, you probably wish me to go, I would think," Castiel babbles, his darkened eyes fixed on the dildo still buried inside Dean.

Yeah, he probably should, but he doesn't. His body is tired and if Castiel weren't staring at him, Dean might drift off to sleep. But instead, he feels jumpy and…god, he's still horny. Putting on a performance for Castiel, however accidental, is draining his fatigue in favor of electric desire.

"Don't go," Dean blurts. He jerks the dildo out with a wince and tosses it aside, getting to his knees to walk acrosss the bed to where Castiel stands. He clutches at the edges of Castiel's coat. "I don't want you to go."

"Dean," Castiel says, his tone dipping into that gorgeous growl Dean heard in the changing room. His hands fall to Dean's hips. "What do you want?"

Dean shivers, but he's growing warmer, hot and needy. Even more wet than before and it's without a shred of hesitation that Dean answers Castiel's question.

"I want you to fuck me, Cas. Please," he whispers, leaning into Castiel, nosing at his throat and brushing his lips over Castiel's jaw. "Please, fuck me."

"You…" His voice falters in a way Dean's never heard before, but already wants to hear again. "You'll regret it."

He doesn't blame Castiel for thinking that. Dean's not given him any reason to believe otherwise. And maybe this would be a mistake if Dean hadn't already been thinking about it as a man. If Castiel hadn't already wanted him before. If Dean had been able to truly rid himself of feelings that hung around no matter what he tried, no matter how much they fought or how long they were separated. It's not simple curiosity. Dean wants Castiel. Right now.

"I won't," he says, pushing Castiel's coat off his shoulders.


"Hey." Dean catches Castiel's chin and forces their eyes to meet. "Scan me, dude. I'm not gonna regret it."

Castiel searches his eyes for a long moment, that peculiar glowing warmth Dean always feels when Castiel's grace touches his soul encircling him. When the realization dawns, Dean can honestly say he's never seen that expression on Castiel's face before. An embarrassing mix of shock and amazement. As though he can't believe his luck. Dean blushes.

"Quit looking at me like that and take off your pants. Or wait." Castiel's odd panic makes Dean laugh. "We need a condom."

Dean knows Jimmy is no longer within his body, that it's not truly a vessel any more. But that doesn't mean he didn't leave behind something catching. Not to mention the babymakers. There's no way he's chancing that.

"Oh," Castiel says and then he's gone.

"What the hell?" Dean says to the empty room, but the sentence is barely out of his mouth before Castiel is back, condom box in hand. "Goddamn, that was fast. Eager much?"

Castiel scowls. "I've never had sex," he says and put that way, Dean can't blame the man for being anxious.

Oh god, Dean's taking the virginity of a being thousands of years old. Maybe even millions. That's a fucking tall order. Dean's not sure he can live up to that kind of anticipation.

"I never wanted to before," Castiel says, his hand gentle on Dean's cheek.

"Quit reading my mind," Dean mumbles, but he's grateful. That's a little easier to handle. Plus, in a way, Castiel is taking his virginity too, so at least they're even. "Did you steal those condoms?"

"Of course not."

"Did you time-travel for them?"

Instead of answering, Castiel throws the box onto the bed and hauls Dean off the bed into his arms. He falls against Castiel's body. The sensation of his naked skin rubbing over the coarse material of Castiel's suit and coat is surprisingly erotic. Dean looks at them in the mirror and smiles. God, they look like a porno. The hot naked girl rubbing up against the guy in a suit.


When Dean turns back, he turns into a kiss. Their first kiss and god, Castiel must have been doing research. There's no teasing, not a hint of hesitation, just Castiel's tongue licking into his mouth, his hands cupping Dean's bare ass. Dean's grabs at Castiel's hair and moans into the kiss. No holding back now and no thinking. Dean lets instinct guide his movements. His fingers thread through Castiel's thick hair and when he tugs hard, a deep groan rumbles against Dean's chest. He breaks off the kiss long enough to flash Castiel a grin.

"You like it rough, don't you?"

"I have no idea," Castiel pants, thoroughly wrecked. His wild hair and flushed cheeks make Dean's smile grow. God, he's so fucking hot. Why the fuck Dean resisted this for so long, he'll never quite understand.

"Let's find out."

There are so many things Dean wants. He wants to find out exactly what Castiel likes, wants to touch and kiss every inch of him to find out what gets the best reactions. Wants to fall to his knees and suck Castiel's dick down just to hear the noises he'd make. He wants Castiel's hands and mouth on his tits, his fingers and tongue fucking inside him. But most of all, he wants Castiel's dick stretching him wide and there's time for all that shit later. With that single goal in mind, Dean works at Castiel's shirt buttons and kisses him again, distracting him so thoroughly that Castiel looks surprised when Dean turns them and shoves Castiel at the bed.

"Oh," he says. That strange awe creeps into his eyes when he looks up at Dean. "How should this work?"

"Lift," Dean orders. He slides Castiel's pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. Castiel releases a soft breath when his erection hits his stomach. Dean stares at it and his reaction is entirely the opposite to what he felt when he saw the dildo. His dick is thicker and longer and all Dean can think is Fuck, yes, more is better. He grabs the condom box and tears into it, pulling one free.

"Dean, I don't know-" Castiel starts to say, but a strangled moan halts his words and Dean's desire flares higher than ever. Stupid fucking condom package won't open. Frustration bites at him. God, he feels like he doesn't get Castiel's dick inside him soon, he might die from this aching desire.

"It's okay. Don't worry. Just, yeah, it'll be, yeah," he babbles, finally getting the package open. "Don't worry about shooting too soon."

Virgins never last long and frankly, Dean's so on edge, this won't need to last long.

"This is…Dean, I'm…I don't…"

Dean rolls the condom on his dick as Castiel unravels. The image he presents is exactly the same as the one Dean had seen in the mirror before Castiel showed up. His head thrown back, chest rising and falling rapidly and his hips thrusting uselessly against empty air. He looks amazing. And Dean can't wait a second longer. Without giving Castiel much warning, Dean rounds the bed and throws his leg over Castiel's lap. Castiel's eyes open again and they are nearly black with lust.

"Dean," he whispers. "Please."

"God, yes," Dean breathes in answer as Castiel reaches up to press his palms against Dean's breasts. Dean wraps a hand around Castiel's dick to steady it. "Cas."

"Please," Castiel repeats.

Dean sinks down until he can't go any farther.

"Fuck," Castiel hisses and if Dean were feeling anything other than mindless bliss, he'd laugh at the unexpected curse. Castiel's dick is a thousand times better than that dildo. Hotter and bigger, filling Dean completely. It's so much, but it's only the beginning because when Castiel abruptly thrusts up hard, shocking pleasure jolts up Dean's spine and it sets him off. He tugs at Castiel, pulling him closer until he's sitting up, his chest pressed to Dean's and judging by Castiel's groan, he really likes the feel of Dean's breasts rubbing against him.

"God, Cas," Dean pants, leaning down to kiss Castiel's deeply as he begins riding his dick. Castiel whimpers into Dean's mouth and maybe it's not fair of Dean to control Castiel's first time so thoroughly, but he can't help it. He knows exactly where he wants Castiel's dick, finds the best way to occasionally slide the head against his clit and besides, Castiel isn't complaining. He's holding on as best he can, one hand clamped around Dean's hip, the other cupping a breast.

That scary pleasure from his second orgasm is fast returning, but this time, Dean is not afraid. He welcomes the loss of control, trusts that Castiel won't judge him for throwing his head back and moaning so loudly there's no way the neighbors aren't hearing them. The pleasure in his body is matched by a deep emotion building in his chest. Dean can't stop the words falling from his lips anymore than he can keep himself from speeding his thrusts.

"Fuck, Cas, so fucking good. So hot, oh fuck yeah. Oh, oh!"

His voice goes even higher than it's been, his cries almost girlish, but Dean doesn't give a shit. He's got a dick in his pussy. That's pretty fucking girly.

"Cas, I'm…I'm gonna, oh god," he pants and apparently, it wasn't Castiel who couldn't last. Dean catches Castiel's gaze just as he comes a third time, god bless multiple orgasms. His muscles ripple around Castiel's dick, working it through his orgasm, thrusting ever faster. "Come on. Come on, Cas," he chants. "You gonna come in me? Oh, god, Cas, c'mon, I wanna feel it."

And Dean does feel it. Feels Castiel stiffen, his expression a picture of shock and his dick jerking inside Dean as he comes for what seems like an eternity. His hand tightens painfully on Dean's breast, but it only draws another weaker pulse of pleasure through Dean's body.

"Dean," Castiel whimpers.

"Yeah," Dean says, capturing Castiel's mouth in an oddly gentle kiss.

Everything's going to change now. But Dean was right. He doesn't regret it one bit.


Dean falls asleep against Castiel's chest. Besides having three orgasms in one afternoon, finally breaking down the block he so carefully erected around his feelings for Castiel leaves Dean exhausted. So he sleepily wrestles Castiel under the covers and presses him flat under his body. Castiel doesn't bother complaining. Judging by how tired he looks, Dean thinks maybe Castiel can't complain. As he's drifting off, Dean wonders if Castiel can sleep now that he's not only fully angelic, but twice as powerful as when they first met.

But he's asleep before he can ask.

When he wakes up again, Dean's arms are clamped firmly around Castiel's waist, his face pressed into the warm skin of his neck and Castiel's erection is poking his thigh.


"I'm sorry," Castiel says, voice strained. "It just happened. I didn't know if I should move."

"How long you been waiting for me to wake up?" Dean asks with a yawn.

"Forty-three minutes."

"You coulda woken me up," Dean says as glances at the clock. 11:38. He's been asleep for nearly four hours. More than enough time to recover energy. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Yes," Castiel admits. "You were peaceful."

Huh. Dean can't remember the last time he felt peaceful. But now that Castiel's mentioned it, Dean realizes he feels quiet. No flurry of panic or nervous thoughts, no self-doubt or guilt. No desire to be elsewhere or concern that he might be missing out of something better. He's just…content.

"Dean? I'd like to have sex again."

"Yeah, okay."

This time is slower than the first. Castiel rolls into Dean's side and reverses their sleeping position, covering Dean with his much larger body. Dean always liked when girls climbed on top, but this feels different. The way Castiel digs his hands under his shoulders to pull Dean close as he settles between his legs and kisses along his jaw doesn't just spark pleasure in Dean's body. It surrounds him with Castiel's touch and his scent, enhancing that odd familiar contented feeling. Castiel does no more than kiss Dean, but it's only a matter of moments before Dean is begging Castiel to slide inside him. They move together with practiced ease, as though they've been fucking for years and when Dean comes with Castiel's name on his lips, he realizes with a jolt that he's actually happy. Honestly happy.

Castiel tries to move away, but Dean locks his legs around Castiel's waist and flicks his fingers through the sweat-dampened hair in Castiel's eyes.

"You're suspiciously good at that," he says.

"I am building experience," Castiel says very seriously. His eyes are nearly black in the dim room, but Dean can still see the humor sparking in them. "And making observations of what you enjoy most."

"Thanks for the effort, but don't get too used to this body," Dean says. "It's gone in three weeks."

As soon as Dean hears his own words, he stiffens with embarrassment at his implication that they'll still be having sex in three weeks. For all he knows, this situation is nothing more than an experiment for Castiel. He might not want Dean's male body and besides, angels don't exactly go around having human boyfriends. That he knows of.

"Not that you are…I mean, that we'll be…whatever we're doing," Dean stammers.

Castiel kisses the side of Dean's mouth.

"I'm anxious to discover the differences between this body and your natural form," he says, his breath warm on Dean's cheek.

Hope bubbles up in Dean's throat, making it hard to squeeze out his next word.


"I intend to have you in every way possible," Castiel says and maybe he doesn't mean that to sound so dirty, but Dean's body doesn't care. Desire curls into a hard knot in his belly and he turns his mouth into Castiel's, claiming a real kiss. Castiel answers with matching eagerness and once more, Dean's swept up in heat and pleasure. Somehow, he can't quite get enough of Castiel.

Good thing they have all night.


By the time Castiel's fucking Dean from behind in the shower the following morning, they've tried just about everything on Dean's to-do list. There's dark bruises all across his body in the shape of Castiel's mouth and not a few bite marks on his tits. He now understands why girls like oral sex so much. In his life, Dean's never been with anyone as tireless as Castiel. After that particular orgasm, Dean actually passed out for a few hours only to claw back to consciousness and return the favor. He doesn't think he'll ever forget the shock on Castiel's face the first time Dean's tongue licked over the head of his dick. And now Castiel's inside him once again, his lips sucking another bruise into Dean's neck as he thrusts, one hand between Dean's legs, fingers rubbing furiously. His free arm spans Dean's chest, holding him tightly in place. Dean's pretty much helpless and definitely mindless.

He loves every second.

The sounds of the water splashing and his own shouting must be what keeps him from hearing the motel room open. But when Dean opens the bathroom door, wrapped in a towel and walking gingerly, Sam is staring in horror at the mess in the room. The violently unmade bed, the used condoms, the obvious stench of sex.

"What…the hell happened in here?"


"Hello, Sam," Castiel says, his voice calm, even bored. His hair drips onto his naked shoulders and Dean thinks it maybe only a matter of luck that Castiel remembered to sling a towel around his waist. Dean looks him up and down. Castiel looks good like this.

"Oh my god," Sam chokes. "What…oh my god! I can't believe you guys actually…what the hell, Dean!"

Dean rolls his eyes. The kid really needs to get laid.


Considering how little Dean wanted to be a woman, his three weeks as one pass very quickly. He's pretty sure it has to do with all the sex. That first night with Cas unlocks some kind of crazy undeniable need inside him. As much as he's enjoyed past relationships, Dean's never felt like he'd actually die if he didn't have someone right now. At least not for longer than two or three times at the most. But Dean quickly loses track of how many times he finds himself pressed flat under Castiel or astride his lap or bent over the nearest piece of furniture and still, Dean wants more.

Of course, Dean still fiercely misses his dick. No matter how good the sex feels, Dean's still a man. He wants his larger muscular body back. He wants to feel Castiel's hands and mouth on his cock for once. Because they're not sure if they can rely on their unfamiliar bodies, Dean and Sam decide to suspend hunting, which is a pain in the ass. He's very ready for things to return to normal, but since it's only for three weeks, Dean doesn't complain. Very much.

Sam, on the other hand, complains all the time. About his body, about the men who leer at him, about Dean and Castiel's admittedly disgusting honeymoon period.

"Dude," Dean says at lunch one day halfway through the second week. "Can you really blame them?"

Sam glares at the rowdy group of guys Dean suspects are mechanics or maybe construction workers. Not that he'd say this to Sam, but it amuses him that the men commenting loudly on Sam's very noticeable attributes aren't that different from what Dean himself had been two weeks previous.

"Easy for you to say. Your stupid lesson involves having lots of sex," Sam grumbles. "Mine's about having assholes making crude jokes about my body."

"Hey, I've had guys looking at me," Dean says.

Not that he wanted the attention, but Sam should remember that Dean is every bit as hot as him.

"Yeah and then they get one look at you cuddling with Cas-"

"We don't cuddle!"

"Then what's this," Sam says, waving a hand at Dean and Castiel. "There's not a sliver of daylight between you."

He's right on that point. Dean is sitting really close to Castiel. And maybe he's got one arm curled around Castiel's and maybe Castiel's fingers are wrapped over Dean's knee under the table. But that's not cuddling. That's using Castiel as a shield against the jerkholes at the other table.

"Don't be angry at me because you're not getting any," Dean says snidely.

Beside him, Castiel quietly eats his hamburger and pretends as though he somehow doesn't know the woman practically sitting in his lap or her sister. It hasn't taken him very long to acclimatize to the role of beleaguered boyfriend.

"Well, excuse me for finding this whole mess too weird," Sam squawks, his voice a shrill whine that Dean thinks might work better on discouraging the mechanics than Sam's glaring. "But I can't just…I can't!"

"Can't what? Sam, you're not exactly innocent. Go find some guy or hey, try out the lesbian route," Dean says. "Trust me. You won't regret it."

"I can't," Sam repeats.

"You can't…" Dean narrows his eyes at Sam. "Can't do anything? Have you even tried touching yourself yet?"

The deep scarlet Sam's cheeks turn gives Dean his answer plainly.

"Why the hell not! It's like…it's like absolutely no-strings attached pussy, Sam. You gotta try it!"

"I can't!" Sam repeats yet again. "I tried! It felt…I don't know, like me, but not me. I felt…I can't get over that it's not me. Not really."

"But it is your body," Castiel abruptly jumps in. "Your DNA and your soul nestled inside."

Dean snorts, but the other two ignore him.

"I appreciate if the sensation is alien to you, but you should not feel as though you were violating another," Castiel says reasonably.

"What do you care if I get off?" Sam says snappishly.

"Because you're being very unpleasant," Castiel says.

"I hate you both," Sam mutters.

Dean and Cas watch him stand from the table, turn his nose up in the air and stride past the mechanics, flipping them off as he goes. It only makes them cheer and whistle more loudly.

"I'm pretty sure Sam's the hottest girl they've ever seen," Dean says with a grin.

"They're not paying attention," Castiel says, his warm blue eyes settling on Dean's face.

"Oh my god," Dean groans, but secretly, he's more than a little pleased by the comment.

Stupid girly hormones.


By the last day of their curse, Dean is past ready to change back. He's had his fun. He's apparently convinced his brother to give sex in his new body a chance, if his relaxed and happy expression of the last week is any indication. They've both served their time and Dean wants his life back.

Especially since his recent discovery that Castiel really likes the strap-on Dean bought at the beginning of week three.

"Get your ass down here, Gabriel!" Dean shouts towards the ceiling on the morning after the final day.

"He's more likely to answer a polite summons," Castiel comments.

"I'll give him polite-"

"Gabriel," Sam says quietly.

In the next second, Gabriel is standing beside Sam, giving him an even more heated version of his typical leer. The flush creeps up Sam's neck gives Dean creepy suspicious thoughts he really doesn't want to examine.

"Good morning, ladies. Cas," Gabriel says, clapping his hands together. "Shall we?"

"Yes!" Dean snaps.

"Right, so Sam's first," Gabriel says.

Castiel puts a hand on Dean's arm to halt his angry outburst. Dean takes a deep breath. Don't attack the angel who can change you back. Don't attack the angel who can change you back, he repeats silently.

"I think you've learned your lesson, Sam," Gabriel says. He gives Sam's body a long once-over, shaking his head in regret. "I'll be sorry to see all this go. But I suppose there's something pleasant waiting in its place, eh?"

Dean really really doesn't want to examine those suspicions. Gabriel snaps his fingers once and without a sound or movement, Sam is suddenly taller and wider and very male. A bright smile breaks across his big mug and he grabs at his now flat chest.

"Oh thank God!"

"Me now," Dean demands.

Gabriel considers him.

"Are you sure?"

"What? Of course I'm sure," Dean says. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"Sorry," Gabriel says flippantly. "I just didn't know if you wanted to keep the baby or not."

They all three stare at him.

"What?" Dean says.

"What?" Castiel echoes.

Sam just bursts into laughter.

“What the fuck are you talking about, the baby?” Dean demands.

He expects…hopes…that Gabriel is joking. That he had so much fun with this joke that he can’t quite let it go and any minute he’ll flash Dean that famous smirk, saying ‘Gotcha! Now here’s your dick back!’”

If Dean were alone with Gabriel, he could hold that hope for a long time. But Castiel’s reaction destroys any shred of hope Dean ever had. His initial confusion deepens into amazed realization. Over the years and especially in the last few weeks, Dean’s learned to recognize the brief flashes of emotion in Castiel’s eyes.

But there’s nothing brief about the bone-deep awe shining there now. Anyone would see the way Castiel is rattled by shock, knocked off-center by understanding. Dean watches him stumble back a step, catching himself on the bed, the same bed where he and Dean had fucked one last time only hours ago. Castiel sinks onto it and reaches out with shaking fingers, brushing them across Dean's flat stomach.

"I didn't see," Cas murmurs.

"It's pretty new, bro," Gabriel says. "And you're not exactly clear-sighted when it comes to Dean."

In any other situation, Dean would want to explore this thought, but all he can do now is stare down at Castiel and try to talk.

"Cas?" he whispers. "Is it…?"

His hope may be gone, but Dean can't make the leap to true understanding. His body is female, yet his mind never stopped being male. His identity, memories and expectations are male-oriented. Sure, he's screwing a guy, but Cas isn't really a guy, not a human man who wants to start a family with Dean. The possibility of pregnancy is so alien to Dean that his mind trips over the concept, unable to grasp it.

Castiel places his palm against Dean's belly. The warmth of his touch easily soaks through Dean's thin cotton tee.

"It's very new," he says softly, looking up to meet Dean's wide eyes. "The conception may have even occurred this morning."

"You had to have one last quickie, didn't you?" Gabriel says.

Terrifying white-hot anger explodes through Dean and he whirls around, dislodging Castiel's hand. He strides across the room and pushes hard against Gabriel's chest, his rage suddenly too bright and overwhelming for things like logic and the idea that smacking an archangel not only won't do any good, but might get him in trouble.

"I don't want to hear a word outta you. It's your goddamned fault we're in this fucking situation," Dean shouts.

"What situation, Dean?" Gabriel challenges, his voice going quieter as Dean's rises. "I know exactly who you are, Dean Winchester. I know what you've always wanted. A family with someone you love and here it is. Literally fallen right in your lap."

"I'm not a woman!" Dean whips back across the room, his panic propelling him into frantic pacing. "I can't do this. I can't be pregnant." His panic reaches that moment where the situation becomes too much and all Dean wants is to escape. His gaze snaps to Castiel's eyes, his big frightened blue eyes. "I'm sorry," Dean whispers. "I can't do this."

Then he's tearing open the door and fleeing.

Boobs or not, he's still Dean Winchester and when Dean Winchester is upset, he ends up in a bar. Or someone's bed, but given that he's just been knocked up by an angel of the Lord no less, it's probably not a good idea to go bed-hopping.

Of course, it's not until the bar-tender is asking for his order that Dean realizes drinking is not a good idea either. Not if he's gonna keep the baby. Ifhe's gonna keep the baby.

"A coke, I guess," he says forlornly. He's too upset to check out the bartender, even though he can see a pair of bouncing breasts at the edge of his vision.

"You don't sound too certain about that," a feminine voice says. Most likely the one attached to the tits. Dean wishes he could get excited about that, but after three weeks of constantly fucking a dude, the appeal of breasts is a bit out of reach.

"You're not gonna do the bartender psychologist route, are you?" Dean asks, finally looking up to her face when she delivers the soda. Sharp nose, red hair, full lips. Not bad. Just...not Cas.

"Well, you're in my bar at 3:30 on a Tuesday afternoon and ordering a coke with all the enthusiasm of someone asking for dental work," she comments easily. "Figured it might be necessary, but if not, we have this too." She pulls out an empty bowl and a bag of cheesy popcorn. Once the bowl is overfull, she places it in front of Dean. Then she lifts an eyebrow at him and wanders away to serve a pair of older women surrounded by shopping bags.

Goddamn if Dean doesn't want to down the entire bowl. It can't possibly be cravings yet. The very idea makes Dean feel sick to his stomach. His body would change so much. More than he can possibly imagine.

He's eating the popcorn without making a conscious decision to do so. Each cheesy puffball brings Dean a momentary pulse of relief. This must be what eating your feelings means. Dean's used to drinking them.

But that would hurt the baby. The baby that's attached itself like a parasite to borrowed body parts Dean was never meant to possess. Oh god, the look on Cas' face when he realized he'd knocked Dean up. All that super-condensed joy shining in unbelievably blue eyes. It's not fair. Stupid fucking Gabriel.

When the bartender comes back over to refill Dean's coke, his slender girly fingers are covered with orange dust and he's on the verge of tears.

"I'm pregnant," he blurts to her.

"Oh honey," she says and then she plucks a cherry by the stem from a nearby bowl and plops it in Dean's new coke. "There."

They both stare at the cherry for a long tense moment before Dean bursts into somewhat hysterical, definitely girlish laughter. The really scary thing is that he's now so used to hearing himself sound like a woman that it doesn't even strike him as odd.

"It sounds bad," the bartender says. She adds a second cherry. If Dean weren't already pretty much permanently attached to a socially awkward angel-person, he'd have proposed to her.

"Thanks," he says drily, his laughter faded to a grin. "I really appreciate the irony of giving an unbusted cherry to a pregnant chick."

"Whatever helps," she says. "So why the long face? You're too old to be worried your parents will get mad."

For half a second, Dean wants to be offended. But then he remembers what the bartender sees when she looks at Dean. The very few times he's spent in the company of more than one female, they always seem to be saying crap to each other that any man would be flayed for saying.

"Yeah, no," Dean says, although the thought of what John Winchester would say if he knew his son was now female and pregnant by an angel is terrifying. "Nothing like that."

The bartender begins polishing a stack of glasses. The bar is now empty save herself and Dean. For all he knows, she's using his sad story as entertainment to pass a slow shift.

"Was it a one time thing?"

Oh god. For the first time in his life, Dean truly gets why all those girls insisted so hard he wrap up. Not that he ever complained about it, but the idea of being this scared and freaked and alone? He'd be throwing up already.

"No," Dean rasps.

The bartender makes a thoughtful humming noise. "But you weren't planning on being attached to the guy?" she guesses.

Dean should just put her out of her misery. There's no way she's going to guess that Dean's freaked out because he was hoping to be a man again after three weeks of being female and is now facing nine months of continued girldom.

"Wrong again. In fact, I'm pretty sure I love the guy," Dean says, quickly to avoid the embarrassment of voicing the emotion.

She gives him an odd soft smile. "Sometimes that's worse. If you really don't want kids."

"But that's the thing," Dean exclaims, flustered enough by this conversation to admit what Gabriel had guessed just an hour ago. "I do want kids. I just never thought...okay, so I have this stupid little brother. I mean, he's not little, but he's younger and when we were kids, my dad...well, anyway, I pretty much raised the kid and I think it'd be nice to have a couple of my own without the snotty little brother attitude. But I knew I never would. Not with my life and my job. But then Cas came along and I don't have to quit everything to have it both ways."

It isn't until the words are spilling out of his mouth that Dean realizes how profound they are. Any normal human, male or female, it wouldn't matter, if Dean tried to have a family with one of them, he'd have to give up hunting, period. But with Cas and his super-charged angel powers, he can protect Dean, Sam and their kids. Dean could still do the only job he's ever known. Sure, things would change a little. They'd have to find a place to live permanently and they couldn't all go at the same time. But they could make it work if they wanted.

The bartender is contemplating Dean with an unreadable look in her light green eyes. The silence stretches long enough that Dean starts to feel awkward about his big outburst. She probably thinks he's insane.

"Okay, so," she finally says, absentmindly wiping the same glass over and over. "You love this guy and you obviously want a family with him. But you're understandably scared. I guess then-"

"It's not just fear," Dean interrupts her. If it were just being scared of a changing body, Dean would suck it up and get over himself. "I never ever thought it'd be possible to get pregnant. I..." Well, really, the truth would probably explain it best. "Until Cas, I was strictly into chicks."

Dean chooses not to mention the other guys who occassionally caught his eye. It hardly matters because he still only ever fucked girls before.

"Oh," the bartender breathes. "Alright, well that puts a whole different spin on it."

"Yeah," Dean agrees.

They sit in silence for a moment. Then the bartender sets the glass down and makes another one of those thoughtful humming sounds. "On the other hand, it still sort of comes down to what you want more. This guy and this kid or dating girls and not worrying about pregnancy."

Well, almost. In his natural form, he still has to worry about it. Just not in regards to his own body. He makes a disgusted face. Guys really can be selfish assholes about some things.

"Or it could be this guy and not this kid," she adds. "Would he...he wouldn't leave you if you decided not to keep it, would he?"

Dean snorts. "Yeah right. I have yet to discover what I can do that's bad enough he wouldn't come back to me."

Which sounds bad and is also completely true. The bartender looks both impressed and kind of alarmed. "O...kay?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Dean hurries to say. "Just that Cas is pretty fucking devoted is all."

The door to the bar opens and a couple wanders over take the seats four down from Dean. The bartender gives him an apologetic look and almost leaves. At the last second, she pauses again and leans towards Dean. "What do you want more? That's the only thing that matters."

Then she leaves Dean alone to his thoughts. What does he want more? He would love to have his body back. He misses his dick. A lot. He misses his body. He misses walking past a group of guys without feeling their eyes molesting his female body. He misses trusting his body and he misses recognizing his face in the mirror. If he ended the pregnancy, he would have that body back by this afternoon.

He would also lose his only chance to have a kid with Castiel. Dean tries to imagine what a kid who was half him, half Cas would be like. The poor thing would be torn between total awesomeness and utter nerdliness. He wonders what it would look like. Whether it would have Dean's green eyes or Cas' blue ones. Dark hair or lighter brown. Would he see his mother in the baby's face? Would it take after Uncle Sam or favor Cas' looks?

Dean's hand falls to his belly, his fingers stretched over the flat stomach. Cas probably never thought he'd be a father either.

"You doing okay?" The bartender is back and Dean can't answer her. He doesn't know yet.


The bar door opens again. The bartender's eyes sweep down whoever's walking in and judging by the heat in her gaze, she likes what she sees.

"Well, hello," she mutters.


Dean's head jerks around and his stomach jumps with nerves. Castiel is watching him with wary eyes, keeping a distance that hurts in Dean's chest. The bartender makes a rough noise in her throat. "Is this Cas?" At his distracted nod, she snorts. "No wonder you gave up women for him. Good luck, girl."

Castiel ignores the bartender completely, which shouldn't please Dean so much. His attention, as usual, belongs solely to Dean. "I gave you time," Cas says, as though to prove he knew the rules of human emotional needs.

"Uh, thanks," Dean says. "What...are you okay?"

"I came to ask you the same thing," Castiel says with faint surprise. "I thought...I was hoping we could discuss the child." He sounds too formal for Dean's liking. Too much like the distant angel who saved him from hell. The one Dean hadn't yet fucked in every position they could think up. "Is that alright?"

"Uh," Dean says again. "Yeah, okay." Castiel stays where he's standing six feet from Dean and no. He's not going to play that game. "Dude, c'mere. I'm not angry at you, okay? Quit freaking out."

Cas obediently slips onto the stool beside Dean's. He takes a deep breath, eyes uncharacteristically away from Dean's face. Instead they remain on his clasped hands. The position makes him look very human.

"I have been thinking since you left. I cannot imagine how you must be feeling, except in one way. I also never believed I would become a father. It wasn't an option or a desire. I feel...without any experience, I worry I would not be an acceptable parent to a human child. I can understand if you felt the same worry-"

"What?" Dean's eyes grew so wide, it almost hurt. "Dude, no. That's not even close. What the fuck, Cas?" he hisses angrily. "Why would I ever think that?" Especially since he'd just been having a stupid girly thought about Cas being a good protector. Why couldn't Dean turn into one of those progressive women and not an old-fashioned 1950s housewife? Jesus, what an embarrassment. "I never thought that."

Relief dims the turmoil Dean reads in Cas' eyes, though he still looks troubled. "Then all that remains to be said is..." Cas suddenly grips Dean's hand, but still refuses to look him in the eye. "I would very much like to have a child with you," he says very carefully. "Please, Dean. Please consider it."

For years to come, Dean will never understand his reaction to Castiel's very calm and very polite request for a family with him. He should have said he would think about it some more. Or asked to discuss the pros and cons. Anything normal and rational.

Anything that isn't throwing his arms around Castiel's shoulders and crying into his neck. Later, Dean does try to blame the hormones and because Cas loves him, he allows it.


"Oh god, I'm sorry, Cas," Dean blubbers, confused by the whirl of emotions inside him. "I would never. God, I'd never do that to you. I'm just so freaked out and I do. I want it," he sobs. "Just, why...why does it have to be inside me? I hate Gabriel, the fucking prick. Oh my god, I'm pregnant. You are such a dick. I can't believe you did this to me."

To his credit, Cas deals with this avalanche of nonsense really well. His arms close around Dean's small frame and he brushes his fingers through Dean's hair, the soothing motion only making Dean cry harder.

"I tried to be careful," Castiel protests half-heartedly. "But I'm not sorry. Not if...Dean, I've already been thinking of names," he says with mild awe in his tone. Dean's tears immediately change to laughs soaking into Cas' shirt. Cas sounds just as freaked as Dean and it's not the only emotion they're sharing right now.

"You really want to have a baby with me?" Dean asks, voice hitching. He lifts his face enough to look at Cas. "I'm all fucked up."

Castiel cups Dean's face, brushing tears away with his thumb. "You're perfect." Dean's face heats up. "Of course I want the baby. But not if you don't truly want it too," he admits with obvious difficulty. "I want to have a family, Dean."

Family. A memory filters into Dean's memory. Running through his house to jump onto the couch between Mom and Dad. Shrieking with laughter as Dad tickles him and Mom rescues him for a long hug. Feeling so safe and warm and happy.

What do you want more?

Dean grabs Cas' hand and threads their fingers together. In the next nine months, he knows there'll be times where he regrets this decision. When he's sick and huge and his body is the complete antithesis of what's in his heart. But eventually that will be behind him and there'll be a little kid running through a home towards them. And Dean and Cas will be the parents the kid loves his or her entire life without reservation.

"What names?" he chokes out.

Instead of answering him with words, Cas inhales sharply and pulls Dean into his arms. They spend the rest of the afternoon that way, wrapped up in each other. Talking about how the pregnancy will work, where they'll live, how to take care of a baby if they still want to hunt sometimes. Dean's completely distracted by Cas.

He never sees the way the bartender's eyes flash hazel right as she disappears and the real bartender returns without ever knowing she'd left in the first place.

Let it never be said that Gabriel doesn't sometimes fix the things he breaks.



Dean stares at the dozens and dozens of bottles. Oh Jesus, there are literally hundreds of options. From his position laying in the stroller beside his father, Seth watches Dean's meltdown with interest. He still doesn't do much besides stare around like Cas, eat a lot of food and fill his diaper a hundred times a day. Oh and squeak when Dean makes faces at him.

Lately, it seems like he's been wanting to eat something more than just formula. Hence, Dean's visit to the store to check out baby food. Going without Castiel proves a mistake. For all the guy didn't grow up with the experience of human children, he's a lot more calm about these steps than Dean.

Probably because Cas is too busy having meltdowns about Seth's emotional health.

"Are you okay, dear?"

A store employee, a woman in her fifties and definitely giving off 'grandma' vibes, is giving Dean a concerned look. He immediately latches onto the help.

"I don't know what to feed my kid," he says, not bothering to cover the panic in his tone. The woman pats his arm.

"It's okay. Your first? They're always the hardest. Don't worry. By the time you get around to three or four, this will be old hat."

Dean manages not to snort. The woman obviously noticed the ring on Dean's left hand and deduced he has a wife somewhere that's willing to have more kids with him. But yeah, no thanks. Dean loves Seth so much it scares the shit out of him, but no way is that happening again. Not that he's finally used to having his dick back. And especially not now that he knows how much Cas likes it.

"Uh, yeah." He makes a face at Seth when the lady's not looking and earns a hearty squeak of joy. "So what should I get?"

Next time, he's making Cas come with him, hunt or no hunt.

After all, they're in this together.
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
Account name:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.


Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.


cloudy_fic: (Default)

July 2013

28 293031   

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 05:59 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios