Sonata (1/3)
Title: Sonata
Rating: Hard R/soft NC-17
Length: 5,176/15,000
Summary: The one where Sam has a one-night stand with a guy named Paul, gets pregnant and has to be told by a fascinated angel, and ends up having an incestrious relationship with his older brother. So, yeah, pretty clichéd. Mpreg and wincest.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural.
Original prompt made by Klutzy_girl for the mpregwinchester Secret Santa. I did play a little with the prompt, I hope you don't mind, Klutzy.
Part One: Frog Eggs in the Sky
Sam gasped and arched his back as the man’s cock nudged his prostate. The man - Paul, it was Paul, right? - buried his face into Sam’s neck as he was getting closer to completion.
“Come on, come on,” Paul groaned, thrusting his hips up after each word.
Sam let out a cry and felt hot spurts land on his stomach. It only took a few more thrusts until Paul came in his condom and landed flat on his back onto the bed. Sam weakly got up and Paul’s limp cock fell out of him and landed on the man’s stomach.
Heart beating rapidly, Sam rolled over so he wasn’t directly on top of Paul and took a few deep breaths.
Damn, that had felt good. He hadn’t been able to find any release besides his right hand for too long.
Sam looked at Paul, still on his post-orgasmic high. He wasn’t as handsome as some of the other men Sam had been with and - my Goodness - did he look young. Couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or two and already picking up tricks.
Sam moved his head and looked at the alarm clock on Paul’s bedside table. It was almost midnight and Dean would worry if he didn’t come home.
Sighing, he attempted to sit up but he was stopped by Paul’s arm going around his waist.
“Hmm, stay,” he said softy, pulling Sam back down and kissing his neck.
“I’m not really into sleeping at someone else’s place,” Sam whispered back, even though he could feel his eyelids grow heavy and his body wearing out.
“Just stay,” he said, his accent more exaggerated now and it confirmed Sam’s suspicion that Paul was originally from Texas. “I promise to make you a big ol’ breakfast when we wake up.”
Voice drunk with sleep and mind muddy, Sam relented, “Yeah, yeah. Okay.”
Paul hummed in appreciation and Sam fell asleep on his chest soon after.
~*~
Sam woke up to a weird buzzing sound on the ground and he realized that it was coming from his discarded pants. It was his stupid cell phone and he groaned when he saw the time. The sun hadn’t even risen yet but his damn brother was already calling.
Quietly, so he didn’t wake up the sleeping man next to him, Sam got up, took the pants, and went into Paul’s living room.
“What do you want, Dean?”
“Where the hell are you, Sammy?”
Sam sighed, so much for the big breakfast with Paul. “I’ll… I’ll be back at the motel in five minutes.”
“Where are you right now?”
Suddenly, Sam felt like a sixteen year old whose obnoxious big brother just caught him losing his virginity. “Nowhere, just hold on. I’ll be right there.”
There was a pause before Dean gasped in delight as he came to a realization. “Did you get laid, Sammy?”
Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance and repeated, “I’ll be right there.”
“Did you use a Trojan? Did she have big tits? Oh, little brother, sometimes you make me so proud.”
Sam hung up before Dean could continue being a jackass and picked up the jacket that he had thrown on the armchair while he and Paul were making out like horny teenagers.
He closed the front door softly and went down the apartment’s stairs. He walked home, the town too small and boring for him to worry about getting jumped in the middle of the night. It was cold, fall retreating and winter setting in, and it hurt like a bitch when the wind nipped at his cheeks.
The motel was only half a mile away and Sam knocked on the door, regretting that he had agreed to let Dean have the keys. He’d bet all the money in the world that Dean was going to start grilling him about the ‘hot chick’ he was with.
Sam could hear Dean get up from the squeaky bed, pad across the room and lean against the wooden door.
“Who is it?” Dean asked, voice unnaturally deep to dissuade any strangers from soliciting.
“It’s me. Open up, Dean,” he said, yawning. He really wished he could have just slept in Paul’s nice, crisp (if cum-stained) sheets the rest of the night instead of going back to the motel and getting harassed by his brother.
Dean opened the door slowly and Sam was careful not to disturb the salt lines as he entered. The older brother was clad in only his boxers and a wife beater and his hair was mussed up and he obviously hadn’t have been awake long after he called Sam.
“You know Sammy, next time you think you’re going to sleep over at someone’s house because you got laid, call me. Hell, text me if you want, just let me know that you’re not bleeding on the floor dying or anything.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, sure. Just let me sleep, okay?”
“Was she hot?”
Slipping off his shoes, Sam landed on the bed face first. “She was okay.” His voice was partially muffled by the pillows. Sam didn’t have enough energy in him to tell his brother that ‘she’ was actually a ‘he’ and, while not exactly hot, was real good at getting a release from him and knew just the right places to touch. He hadn’t told Dean that he liked boys as well as girls; didn’t seem important with all the stuff they were going through and it wasn’t like he was totally gay. Sometimes, he wanted that girl who was sitting at the bar, watching her friends go wild while she was sober, and other times, he wanted the guy who was pissed out of his mind but was obviously a very happy (and horny) drunk. They were the easiest to get in bed and were usually able to perform pretty well. Sam had stopped trying to find deep, emotional bonds with the people he slept with some time ago.
“You use protection?” Dean asked.
Sam didn’t even bother to answer. He’d gotten the birds and the bees talk from Dean - and once from his dad, which didn’t go over nearly as well - and he didn’t need to be reminded every time he slept with someone that he needed to put a rubber on his dick so he didn’t end up catching something that would make it fall off. Hell, he even remembered the annoying little sayings that Dean would tell him about safe sex, ‘Don’t be a fool, wrap your tool’ and ‘Don’t die from a trick, wrap your dick’.
“Sam…?”
“Yeah, I did,” Sam finally responded, just so Dean could shut up and let him sleep.
“Good boy,” Dean said as he got into his own bed. “G’night.”
Sam grunted in reply and turned over a little so he could breath more freely but still be able to enjoy the scent of the only clean thing in the room - the pillows.
~*~
The taste of coffee felt good as it went down Sam’s throat and warmed his entire chest. Dean had been nice enough to get him some coffee from the diner a block away but he had also put a post-it note on his forehead letting him know where he was and that Sam was a really big dork for falling asleep after having sex and not calling him. The two things - the getting the coffee and the ridiculing by post-it note - canceled each other out.
“It good?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. He’d been drinking coffee since he was sixteen when Dean no longer cared that it would stunt his brother’s growth because - my God - the boy was already a big enough Sasquatch as it was and anything that could stop him from turning into Godzilla was more than welcome in the Winchester household. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Dean said and then pulled out a section of the newspaper and pointed to an article that he circled with a red pen. “I got us a case.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised as he took a sip of the warm drink.
“Yep, in San Francisco. Man killed his wife, baby and his son and then pointed the gun at himself.”
“Just sounds like a maniac to me.”
Dean nodded and he bit his lower lip like he always did when he was excited about a case. “Except that the year before that family moved in, a woman killed her man and children and then herself around this time in the same house.”
“Yeah, too much of a coincidence not to check it out,” Sam agreed. “California’s on the other side of the country, though.”
The oldest brother shrugged. “We can probably get there in four days.”
“I want to sleep in a motel overnight,” Sam said, knowing that his brother was probably thinking of driving all night or sleeping in the car until both their backs and legs cramped up when he made up that estimate.
“Hmm, six days then, you little girl.”
Sam rolled his eyes at the insult, they weren’t twelve anymore. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Dean was already packing up his things. If there was one thing Dean was good at, it was moving on as quick and efficiently as he could.
It took ten minutes for them to pack their belongings and another five for Dean to sweep the area, making sure that they didn’t leave anything behind that they would need later on or freak out the people who were going to clean up the room after.
They got in the Impala, all belongings in the trunk, and Dean turned on the radio, pleased to find a classic rock station buried underneath all of the sickeningly sweet Disney pop out there.
The drive was normal, almost painfully so. Dean would blast his classic rock for as long as he could whenever he found a station that carried The Chamber Brothers or The Rolling Stones instead of the Selena and Demi and what’s-her-face-that-pole-danced-at-that-award-show brand of music. When they did finally get to Northern California, the change in climate was evident. It was cooler than central California and had a wind felt good when the brothers rolled down the Impala’s windows all the way.
On the final day of the drive, while Dean was jamming out to Kansas, steering wheel unsafely acting as a drum, Castiel appeared in the backseat. Sam was the first to notice him on the mirror to the left of him and only jumped slightly when he did. The angel appearing silently and without warning was becoming less of a surprise and more of an everyday occurrence.
“Hey, Castiel,” Sam said, alerting Dean to Castiel’s presence as he was doing so.
“Samuel, Dean,” Castiel greeted, face stoic.
Dean nodded his head at the angel, deciding now was a good time to keep his eyes on the road. “Not to mean you’re not welcome, but what’re you doing here? Did we get in trouble with the big guys upstairs again?”
“No. I believed that I would accompany you and your brother on this hunt.”
Dean and Sam exchanged a look from the front seats. Finally, Sam asked, “Why?”
“I believe that I should.” And that’s all he said about the subject, deciding to look out the car window instead of elaborating.
“Well, that answers everything,” Dean said, snorting and turning his attention back on the road.
Within three hours, the Impala was crossing the Bay Bridge into San Francisco. As they were driving and passing the large, tall buildings and the people, Dean scoffed in distaste.
Sam furrowed his brow and look at his brother. “What?”
“Just these big cities like this, harder to investigate cases. People aren’t as trusting.”
Castiel nodded in understanding. “They are more jaded.”
“Yeah, exactly. I mean, if I was in Hicksville, USA, they wouldn’t need as much convincing.”
Shrugging, Sam continued to look out of the window. “I don’t know, I kind of like big cities. I mean, yeah, it’s a pain in the ass to get people to trust us but sometimes it’s better during a hunt. More witnesses, more information on local folktales.”
Dean and Castiel didn’t say anything else and twenty minutes later, they were in front of the house. It was large for San Francisco standards, where big house easily got into the two million dollar mark, and the lawn had two white swing sets in front. It should have been a Norman Rockwell painting. Dean handed Castiel his own FBI badge and the Winchesters walked to the yellow police line.
There was only one policeman on site at the moment, the actual murder happened almost a week ago, and he wasn’t very suspicious of the three faux FBI agents. He asked to see their badges, greeted them warmly, shook their hands and told them his name was Billy Khan.
“Mr. Kahn,” Dean said. “I understand that there was a murder here.”
“Yes, sir,” Billy said. “The Richardson’s. The father, Richard, shot his wife, Beth, their two-month old baby and five year old son and then ended up killing himself.”
“Richard Richardson?”
Billy nodded. “Yes, sir. Not he most fortunate of first name choice on his parents part, I agree.”
“Where did they die?” Dean asked.
“The wife died in her bedroom along with the baby, the son died in his room and the father shot himself in his bathroom.”
Sam asked, “Any motive yet, Mr. Khan?”
Billy shook his head, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “No, but we’re still looking into it. You know, something really similar happened almost a year ago. I wasn’t in the force then, but it’s just really strange and tragic, you know?”
“Very,” Sam agreed, eyeing the front door of the house. “We want to go in the house to look, you mind?”
Billy shook his head and leaded them to the door. “No problem, just use gloves if you want to touch something, of course.”
At the same time, Dean and Sam pulled out rubber gloves from their slacks and Dean handed Castiel his own set.
Castiel, carefully and methodically slipping on his pristine gloves on, asked, “Would you like to come with us, Mr. Kahn?”
Dean cringed. He knew that Castiel didn’t know that he shouldn’t have asked that and that they should go on their own so they could use the EMF meter without any suspicion, but, damn it.
Luckily, Billy shook his head. “No, my chief said that I have to wait out here, make sure no tourists start hanging around or anything.”
“Alright,” Dean said and moved quickly to the entrance before the angel could say anything else that could jeopardize them getting into the house. “Thank you very much.”
“No problem.”
Sam, Dean and Castiel walked into the house and the first thing they noticed was the disgusting smell of blood wafting through the house.
“It is very strange that we can smell such a strong blood scent even though several days since the murder has passed,” Castiel commented as he looked around.
It was a typical family home, with toys scattered around the floor and pictures of babies on the fireplace. Dean took a deep breath as a shiver went down his spine; there was something with this house, something unnatural.
Noticing his brother’s shiver, Sam asked, “You feel it, too?”
“The eeriness? Yeah.”
Dean took out his EMF meter and put it out in front of his body. It was going wild, beeping rapidly and arrow swinging all over the place.
“Well, it’s definitely not just a maniac,” Sam said dryly.
After inspecting both the living room and the kitchen, EMF continuing to go berserk, they went upstairs to the bedrooms. There was a crib in the parent’s room and the son’s room was right next to it.
There were bloodstains on the carpet of the wife and husband’s room and on the bed. Sam felt like gagging when he saw the deep red blood on the white crib. God.
Castiel noticed as well and looked away.
After checking all of the rooms, they decided to leave.
“I think we should do some research on this house to see if there’s any local lore on it or something and then come back,” Sam suggested, mostly because he wanted to get the hell out of there. His imagination grew dangerously wild and an image of a dead two-month old baby covered in it’s own blood was too much for him to handle.
“Yeah, okay. Ready, Cas?”
Castiel nodded in agreement. “Yes, I am. I shall be going to the motel with you, but I will not need my own bed so you do not need to pay more money.”
Sam and Dean looked at each other again, eyebrows high. Castiel had never spent the night with them at the motel. Sometimes he’d be there in the morning, freaking both of them out because of the quiet way he did it. The angel didn’t know much about personal space and Sam would sometimes notice Castiel sitting on the foot of his brother’s bed, waiting for him to wake up and when Dean finally did, he’d visibly jump at the pair of blue eyes watching him intensely.
Finally, Dean asked, “Um, why?”
“I believe that I should under certain circumstances.”
“And what circumstances would that be?”
Castiel looked straight at Sam, brown eyes meeting blue. “I do not believe that I should disclose that at this moment.”
Dean looked between his brother and the angel and asked wryly, “Should I leave you two alone? I mean, we can rent a whole ‘nother motel room for the two of you.”
If looks could kill, Dean would have been dead on the spot from the look Sam was giving him. Instead, all he got was a slap on the back of his head and a confused look from Castiel.
“I just informed you that I did not need a room, Dean.”
Even Sam’s lips quirked into a smile at Castiel’s bemusement.
~*~
The motel was small, cheap and family-owned, which was rare in big cities like San Francisco. Sam and Dean had picked out their respective beds, Dean taking the bed near the door and Sam by the wall, as usual. Castiel sat on an armchair near the bathroom, body looking far too big for the chair, with a Bible in his hands.
“How many times do you think you’ve read that?” Sam asked as he took off his shirt to go to bed.
“I do not know. I never counted,” Castiel answered, blue eyes never leaving the holy book.
Dean got out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower but jacket and jeans on. “I’m heading for the bar I saw a couple blocks down,” he looked at Sam in his underclothes. “I take it that you don’t want to come with me?”
Sam shook his head. “Nah, I’m cool. I just want to go to sleep.”
Dean muttered something that distinctly sounded like, ‘Such a girl’, before he asked Castiel the same question. Castiel declined but thanked him for the invitation.
The older brother nodded. “Fine. I’ll be back in a couple hours, okay? Don’t you two do anything I wouldn’t do,” he teased, winking at his brother and the angel.
Sam was tempted to give his brother the finger, but decided against it. It just seemed wrong in the presence of a holy being like Castiel, even if Dean was tainting him with pies and skin mags.
Dean left to go to the bar, ready to get some money from suckers who thought they could beat him at pool.
“Guess it’s just you and me,” Sam said, getting up to use the bathroom and brush his teeth.
“Yes, Samuel,” the angel said, closing his book and staring directly at Sam.
Sam squirmed under the intense gaze and walked to the bathroom.
He closed the door quickly. Castiel was acting so weird lately. Normally, he wouldn’t have spared a passing glance at Sam. Out of the two Winchester brothers, Dean was always the angel’s favorite. Always. But now he was so clingy to him, always keeping a sharp eye on him. And what was with the little mystery he’d been talking about earlier that day? The, ‘I cannot discuss that at the moment’ stuff was too clouded with mystery. Resigned, Sam started to brush his teeth, using the toothpaste that he and Dean would always pack up in their suitcases because it was inexpensive and neither had ever had a cavity since the youngest brother was ten and went a little too overboard with the Halloween candy.
Lost in his thoughts, Sam tripped over a pipe in the bathroom and fell face first onto the cold, grey floor, and the cheap, white toothpaste went splattering over his hair. He groaned. Damn, that really hurt.
Before he could get himself up, he felt careful hands go around his chest and help pull him up. Sam, startled, moved his head quickly to see who was pulling him back up. It was Castiel, his face serious - and was that concern? - while he moved the human upward.
When Sam was standing up, he looked at Castiel, whose hands had gone down from his chest to his stomach.
“Castiel,” Sam said, confused and slightly disoriented. “What are you doing?”
“I was correct,” Castiel said softly, in what sounded like amazement.
“Correct about what?” Sam asked, shying away from the touch.
“You are with child, Samuel.”
Sam laughed softly, feeling pity on the angel. He bet that they didn’t teach sex-ed up there in heaven.
“I can’t be, Cas,” he said as gently as he could, not wanting to offend him. “I don’t have all the right parts. Women do, I don’t.”
Castiel shook his head, hands now freely feeling Sam’s flat stomach. “No, you do. I sense it, the chasteness and wholeness of an unborn child. It is within you.”
More sober, Sam asked, “How could I be pregnant? I don’t have a uterus or a period or anything that’s necessary for pregnancy.”
“Have you committed sodomy lately?”
Sam physically squirmed at the memory. It was only a week ago but it seemed so much farther away than that.
As if Castiel had read his mind, the angel said, “Your child is small, almost unnoticeable, Samuel. It would only make sense that it would be conceived in the time span of a couple of weeks, if that. It is pure, despite it’s lineage.”
Sam would have bristled about the lineage comment if he weren’t so transfixed by Castiel’s words. He couldn’t be pregnant or ‘with child’, whatever Castiel wanted to call it. That was impossible, abnormal. Where would the baby even fucking grow in his body? There was just no room for it in his body.
“Okay, say that maybe I am,” Sam appeased Castiel. “How would I even become pregnant? I mean, yeah, I… had sex with a man but I can’t be pregnant. I mean, we even used a condom.” Sam’s cheeks turned a little rosy.
Things you wouldn’t normally tell an angel for five hundred dollars, Bob.
Castiel’s hands wandered lower on Sam’s stomach and pressed down lightly. “Something supernatural. Like you said, it is not natural for a human male to become pregnant, even with the demonic blood still running through your veins. Although this child’s conception is unusual, it is fully human, from what I can tell. Whole and human.”
Sam furrowed his brow when he came to the realization that Castiel was serious. That this wasn’t some elaborate prank his older brother came up with to rub Sam’s nose raw.
“You’re not messing with me, are you? You’re actually telling me the truth.”
Shaking his head, the angel said solemnly, “I never was and yes, I am telling the truth. I have no motive to lie to you.”
The human’s head started to swim. This was too much for him. He couldn’t be pregnant. He couldn’t. It was unnatural and weird and this… thing was obviously influenced by something that meant no good.
“You said it was human, right? I mean, despite everything? It’s not going to claw out my stomach or anything?”
“From this stage, it feels very human.”
“I had sex a week ago, it’s not a very long stage,” Sam muttered, unable to reach Castiel’s eyes.
“There is nothing dark in this child, Samuel, it would have shown already if it was anything demonic.”
Taking a deep breath, pinching his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, the human asked, “And you’re really, really sure about this?”
“Very, yes,” he tilted his head in curiosity. “I thought you would be pleased by this. You are very close to Dean. I would think that adding a new family member would be something of a celebratory occasion for you.”
It felt like a ton of bricks had hit his chest when he remembered Dean. God, it was so strange not to remember Dean. They’d grown up intertwined with one another, like the roots of two sister Redwood trees, and Dean was engraved into Sam’s mind. But his older brother wouldn’t like this one bit. Anything supernatural had to be killed, anything that was unusual or abnormal had to be eliminated. This news would be received with yells and anger and disappointment. Overwhelmed by all of this information, Sam sat down on the toilet lid, head hanging low.
“Can’t I just get rid of it?” Sam asked, hands cautiously going over his abdomen. It didn’t feel any bigger than it was but, then again, it shouldn’t have been. This thing was only conceived a week ago. Probably no bigger then a speck of dirt.
The corners of Castiel’s lips drooped down. “It is an innocent human life, Samuel. I do not condone it, even if this pregnancy is unplanned.”
Sam snorted cynically at the word ‘unplanned’. It was like saying that the huge zit on the top of your lip that felt like it was covering up your entire face on the exact night of prom was unplanned. It was but my God, what a bitch.
“Dean’s going to freak,” he said, mostly to himself.
Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “He will think it is wrong, I agree, but he stayed with you even when you were drinking the demon blood. At least this will come with a pleasing outcome.”
Sam physically flinched at the memory, his brother locking him up in Bobby’s safe room and the anger and rejection still fresh in his mind.
“He doesn’t even know I like guys like that,” Sam muttered, fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve and he felt like a kindergartner who had to tell his teacher that he couldn’t make a mothers’ day card all over again.
“Dean will find out sooner or later.”
“Don’t tell him about this. I’m serious, Castiel.”
Castiel did not say anything in response and avoided eye contact with Sam.
“Promise me, Castiel. Swear it.”
Castiel sighed. “I do not believe that this is the right decision, but it is yours. I will not tell Dean.”
Getting up from the toilet seat, Sam moved to his bed, fingers running through his hair in stress, and Castiel was trailing behind him like a puppy.
“You must be careful now, Samuel. Until you reach your third month, this pregnancy is highly unstable. And even then, the chance of miscarrying is very much a reality.”
Quirking his eyebrows, Sam asked, “How do you know so much about pregnancy?”
“I have been alive for thousands of years. Although some of your behavior is baffling, I know the mechanics of a human body.”
Sam nodded; it made sense that the holy being knew a lot about humans after watching over them since their creation. But be careful? In their line of work, getting hurt was inevitable, whether it was bruises and cuts or concussions and broken bones. A horrifying thought suddenly struck him.
“How will it even get out?”
“I suppose there will have to be an operation. An incision to take the child out of you.”
“A C-Section.”
Castiel nodded. “Yes, a C-Section. You have not commented on my statement about hunting.”
“I have to hunt, Castiel.”
“Then there is a strong chance that you till miscarry. You become stressed during your hunts, both physically and mentally.”
“I can’t just stop,” Sam said softly, imagining Dean’s reaction if he told him he had to stop hunting because he had a one-night stand’s baby inside him. That would go over well as well as when he decided to go to Stanford.
“Do you want this child?”
Hands wandered to his stomach again and he even surprised himself when he said, “Yeah, I do.” He felt like he wanted the baby for selfish reasons. He wanted someone who would look up to him as he looked up to Dean and someone who didn’t know the bad things he had done.
“Then you must be careful,” Castiel repeated. “Even if that means stopping hunts.”
Suddenly, Sam’s head felt like it was swimming and he laid down on his bed, putting his right hand over his eyes to block out the harsh motel light and to stop from getting nauseatingly dizzy.
“Can I take a pregnancy test just to make sure?” Sam asked, a little deliriously.
“You do not have the necessary hormones to make a pregnancy test read positive, but I assure you that I am correct.”
“I bet this is what the Virgin Mary felt,” Sam muttered.
Sam heard a soft gasp from Castiel, but didn’t bother moving his hand from his eyes. He was too dizzy. “That is blasphemous.” He could imagine the angel’s look of outrage.
“I just mean that she must have been shocked that she was pregnant like I was. She was a virgin and I had sex with a man. Neither of us thought we could get pregnant.”
“I still do not believe that you should put it in that context.”
“Yeah, probably not. Listen Cas, I’m just going to go back to bed, okay?” There was too much information to digest, too many weird things and he just felt so unbelievably tired.
Castiel hummed in agreement. “I shall watch over you now, Samuel.”
Samuel groaned. Just what he needed, a guardian angel that could look over him and a random guy’s baby and the guy wasn’t even that handsome.
Part Two: http://wendy-bird.livejournal.com/46497.html
Rating: Hard R/soft NC-17
Length: 5,176/15,000
Summary: The one where Sam has a one-night stand with a guy named Paul, gets pregnant and has to be told by a fascinated angel, and ends up having an incestrious relationship with his older brother. So, yeah, pretty clichéd. Mpreg and wincest.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural.
Original prompt made by Klutzy_girl for the mpregwinchester Secret Santa. I did play a little with the prompt, I hope you don't mind, Klutzy.
Part One: Frog Eggs in the Sky
Sam gasped and arched his back as the man’s cock nudged his prostate. The man - Paul, it was Paul, right? - buried his face into Sam’s neck as he was getting closer to completion.
“Come on, come on,” Paul groaned, thrusting his hips up after each word.
Sam let out a cry and felt hot spurts land on his stomach. It only took a few more thrusts until Paul came in his condom and landed flat on his back onto the bed. Sam weakly got up and Paul’s limp cock fell out of him and landed on the man’s stomach.
Heart beating rapidly, Sam rolled over so he wasn’t directly on top of Paul and took a few deep breaths.
Damn, that had felt good. He hadn’t been able to find any release besides his right hand for too long.
Sam looked at Paul, still on his post-orgasmic high. He wasn’t as handsome as some of the other men Sam had been with and - my Goodness - did he look young. Couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or two and already picking up tricks.
Sam moved his head and looked at the alarm clock on Paul’s bedside table. It was almost midnight and Dean would worry if he didn’t come home.
Sighing, he attempted to sit up but he was stopped by Paul’s arm going around his waist.
“Hmm, stay,” he said softy, pulling Sam back down and kissing his neck.
“I’m not really into sleeping at someone else’s place,” Sam whispered back, even though he could feel his eyelids grow heavy and his body wearing out.
“Just stay,” he said, his accent more exaggerated now and it confirmed Sam’s suspicion that Paul was originally from Texas. “I promise to make you a big ol’ breakfast when we wake up.”
Voice drunk with sleep and mind muddy, Sam relented, “Yeah, yeah. Okay.”
Paul hummed in appreciation and Sam fell asleep on his chest soon after.
~*~
Sam woke up to a weird buzzing sound on the ground and he realized that it was coming from his discarded pants. It was his stupid cell phone and he groaned when he saw the time. The sun hadn’t even risen yet but his damn brother was already calling.
Quietly, so he didn’t wake up the sleeping man next to him, Sam got up, took the pants, and went into Paul’s living room.
“What do you want, Dean?”
“Where the hell are you, Sammy?”
Sam sighed, so much for the big breakfast with Paul. “I’ll… I’ll be back at the motel in five minutes.”
“Where are you right now?”
Suddenly, Sam felt like a sixteen year old whose obnoxious big brother just caught him losing his virginity. “Nowhere, just hold on. I’ll be right there.”
There was a pause before Dean gasped in delight as he came to a realization. “Did you get laid, Sammy?”
Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance and repeated, “I’ll be right there.”
“Did you use a Trojan? Did she have big tits? Oh, little brother, sometimes you make me so proud.”
Sam hung up before Dean could continue being a jackass and picked up the jacket that he had thrown on the armchair while he and Paul were making out like horny teenagers.
He closed the front door softly and went down the apartment’s stairs. He walked home, the town too small and boring for him to worry about getting jumped in the middle of the night. It was cold, fall retreating and winter setting in, and it hurt like a bitch when the wind nipped at his cheeks.
The motel was only half a mile away and Sam knocked on the door, regretting that he had agreed to let Dean have the keys. He’d bet all the money in the world that Dean was going to start grilling him about the ‘hot chick’ he was with.
Sam could hear Dean get up from the squeaky bed, pad across the room and lean against the wooden door.
“Who is it?” Dean asked, voice unnaturally deep to dissuade any strangers from soliciting.
“It’s me. Open up, Dean,” he said, yawning. He really wished he could have just slept in Paul’s nice, crisp (if cum-stained) sheets the rest of the night instead of going back to the motel and getting harassed by his brother.
Dean opened the door slowly and Sam was careful not to disturb the salt lines as he entered. The older brother was clad in only his boxers and a wife beater and his hair was mussed up and he obviously hadn’t have been awake long after he called Sam.
“You know Sammy, next time you think you’re going to sleep over at someone’s house because you got laid, call me. Hell, text me if you want, just let me know that you’re not bleeding on the floor dying or anything.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, sure. Just let me sleep, okay?”
“Was she hot?”
Slipping off his shoes, Sam landed on the bed face first. “She was okay.” His voice was partially muffled by the pillows. Sam didn’t have enough energy in him to tell his brother that ‘she’ was actually a ‘he’ and, while not exactly hot, was real good at getting a release from him and knew just the right places to touch. He hadn’t told Dean that he liked boys as well as girls; didn’t seem important with all the stuff they were going through and it wasn’t like he was totally gay. Sometimes, he wanted that girl who was sitting at the bar, watching her friends go wild while she was sober, and other times, he wanted the guy who was pissed out of his mind but was obviously a very happy (and horny) drunk. They were the easiest to get in bed and were usually able to perform pretty well. Sam had stopped trying to find deep, emotional bonds with the people he slept with some time ago.
“You use protection?” Dean asked.
Sam didn’t even bother to answer. He’d gotten the birds and the bees talk from Dean - and once from his dad, which didn’t go over nearly as well - and he didn’t need to be reminded every time he slept with someone that he needed to put a rubber on his dick so he didn’t end up catching something that would make it fall off. Hell, he even remembered the annoying little sayings that Dean would tell him about safe sex, ‘Don’t be a fool, wrap your tool’ and ‘Don’t die from a trick, wrap your dick’.
“Sam…?”
“Yeah, I did,” Sam finally responded, just so Dean could shut up and let him sleep.
“Good boy,” Dean said as he got into his own bed. “G’night.”
Sam grunted in reply and turned over a little so he could breath more freely but still be able to enjoy the scent of the only clean thing in the room - the pillows.
~*~
The taste of coffee felt good as it went down Sam’s throat and warmed his entire chest. Dean had been nice enough to get him some coffee from the diner a block away but he had also put a post-it note on his forehead letting him know where he was and that Sam was a really big dork for falling asleep after having sex and not calling him. The two things - the getting the coffee and the ridiculing by post-it note - canceled each other out.
“It good?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. He’d been drinking coffee since he was sixteen when Dean no longer cared that it would stunt his brother’s growth because - my God - the boy was already a big enough Sasquatch as it was and anything that could stop him from turning into Godzilla was more than welcome in the Winchester household. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Dean said and then pulled out a section of the newspaper and pointed to an article that he circled with a red pen. “I got us a case.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised as he took a sip of the warm drink.
“Yep, in San Francisco. Man killed his wife, baby and his son and then pointed the gun at himself.”
“Just sounds like a maniac to me.”
Dean nodded and he bit his lower lip like he always did when he was excited about a case. “Except that the year before that family moved in, a woman killed her man and children and then herself around this time in the same house.”
“Yeah, too much of a coincidence not to check it out,” Sam agreed. “California’s on the other side of the country, though.”
The oldest brother shrugged. “We can probably get there in four days.”
“I want to sleep in a motel overnight,” Sam said, knowing that his brother was probably thinking of driving all night or sleeping in the car until both their backs and legs cramped up when he made up that estimate.
“Hmm, six days then, you little girl.”
Sam rolled his eyes at the insult, they weren’t twelve anymore. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Dean was already packing up his things. If there was one thing Dean was good at, it was moving on as quick and efficiently as he could.
It took ten minutes for them to pack their belongings and another five for Dean to sweep the area, making sure that they didn’t leave anything behind that they would need later on or freak out the people who were going to clean up the room after.
They got in the Impala, all belongings in the trunk, and Dean turned on the radio, pleased to find a classic rock station buried underneath all of the sickeningly sweet Disney pop out there.
The drive was normal, almost painfully so. Dean would blast his classic rock for as long as he could whenever he found a station that carried The Chamber Brothers or The Rolling Stones instead of the Selena and Demi and what’s-her-face-that-pole-danced-at-that-award-show brand of music. When they did finally get to Northern California, the change in climate was evident. It was cooler than central California and had a wind felt good when the brothers rolled down the Impala’s windows all the way.
On the final day of the drive, while Dean was jamming out to Kansas, steering wheel unsafely acting as a drum, Castiel appeared in the backseat. Sam was the first to notice him on the mirror to the left of him and only jumped slightly when he did. The angel appearing silently and without warning was becoming less of a surprise and more of an everyday occurrence.
“Hey, Castiel,” Sam said, alerting Dean to Castiel’s presence as he was doing so.
“Samuel, Dean,” Castiel greeted, face stoic.
Dean nodded his head at the angel, deciding now was a good time to keep his eyes on the road. “Not to mean you’re not welcome, but what’re you doing here? Did we get in trouble with the big guys upstairs again?”
“No. I believed that I would accompany you and your brother on this hunt.”
Dean and Sam exchanged a look from the front seats. Finally, Sam asked, “Why?”
“I believe that I should.” And that’s all he said about the subject, deciding to look out the car window instead of elaborating.
“Well, that answers everything,” Dean said, snorting and turning his attention back on the road.
Within three hours, the Impala was crossing the Bay Bridge into San Francisco. As they were driving and passing the large, tall buildings and the people, Dean scoffed in distaste.
Sam furrowed his brow and look at his brother. “What?”
“Just these big cities like this, harder to investigate cases. People aren’t as trusting.”
Castiel nodded in understanding. “They are more jaded.”
“Yeah, exactly. I mean, if I was in Hicksville, USA, they wouldn’t need as much convincing.”
Shrugging, Sam continued to look out of the window. “I don’t know, I kind of like big cities. I mean, yeah, it’s a pain in the ass to get people to trust us but sometimes it’s better during a hunt. More witnesses, more information on local folktales.”
Dean and Castiel didn’t say anything else and twenty minutes later, they were in front of the house. It was large for San Francisco standards, where big house easily got into the two million dollar mark, and the lawn had two white swing sets in front. It should have been a Norman Rockwell painting. Dean handed Castiel his own FBI badge and the Winchesters walked to the yellow police line.
There was only one policeman on site at the moment, the actual murder happened almost a week ago, and he wasn’t very suspicious of the three faux FBI agents. He asked to see their badges, greeted them warmly, shook their hands and told them his name was Billy Khan.
“Mr. Kahn,” Dean said. “I understand that there was a murder here.”
“Yes, sir,” Billy said. “The Richardson’s. The father, Richard, shot his wife, Beth, their two-month old baby and five year old son and then ended up killing himself.”
“Richard Richardson?”
Billy nodded. “Yes, sir. Not he most fortunate of first name choice on his parents part, I agree.”
“Where did they die?” Dean asked.
“The wife died in her bedroom along with the baby, the son died in his room and the father shot himself in his bathroom.”
Sam asked, “Any motive yet, Mr. Khan?”
Billy shook his head, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “No, but we’re still looking into it. You know, something really similar happened almost a year ago. I wasn’t in the force then, but it’s just really strange and tragic, you know?”
“Very,” Sam agreed, eyeing the front door of the house. “We want to go in the house to look, you mind?”
Billy shook his head and leaded them to the door. “No problem, just use gloves if you want to touch something, of course.”
At the same time, Dean and Sam pulled out rubber gloves from their slacks and Dean handed Castiel his own set.
Castiel, carefully and methodically slipping on his pristine gloves on, asked, “Would you like to come with us, Mr. Kahn?”
Dean cringed. He knew that Castiel didn’t know that he shouldn’t have asked that and that they should go on their own so they could use the EMF meter without any suspicion, but, damn it.
Luckily, Billy shook his head. “No, my chief said that I have to wait out here, make sure no tourists start hanging around or anything.”
“Alright,” Dean said and moved quickly to the entrance before the angel could say anything else that could jeopardize them getting into the house. “Thank you very much.”
“No problem.”
Sam, Dean and Castiel walked into the house and the first thing they noticed was the disgusting smell of blood wafting through the house.
“It is very strange that we can smell such a strong blood scent even though several days since the murder has passed,” Castiel commented as he looked around.
It was a typical family home, with toys scattered around the floor and pictures of babies on the fireplace. Dean took a deep breath as a shiver went down his spine; there was something with this house, something unnatural.
Noticing his brother’s shiver, Sam asked, “You feel it, too?”
“The eeriness? Yeah.”
Dean took out his EMF meter and put it out in front of his body. It was going wild, beeping rapidly and arrow swinging all over the place.
“Well, it’s definitely not just a maniac,” Sam said dryly.
After inspecting both the living room and the kitchen, EMF continuing to go berserk, they went upstairs to the bedrooms. There was a crib in the parent’s room and the son’s room was right next to it.
There were bloodstains on the carpet of the wife and husband’s room and on the bed. Sam felt like gagging when he saw the deep red blood on the white crib. God.
Castiel noticed as well and looked away.
After checking all of the rooms, they decided to leave.
“I think we should do some research on this house to see if there’s any local lore on it or something and then come back,” Sam suggested, mostly because he wanted to get the hell out of there. His imagination grew dangerously wild and an image of a dead two-month old baby covered in it’s own blood was too much for him to handle.
“Yeah, okay. Ready, Cas?”
Castiel nodded in agreement. “Yes, I am. I shall be going to the motel with you, but I will not need my own bed so you do not need to pay more money.”
Sam and Dean looked at each other again, eyebrows high. Castiel had never spent the night with them at the motel. Sometimes he’d be there in the morning, freaking both of them out because of the quiet way he did it. The angel didn’t know much about personal space and Sam would sometimes notice Castiel sitting on the foot of his brother’s bed, waiting for him to wake up and when Dean finally did, he’d visibly jump at the pair of blue eyes watching him intensely.
Finally, Dean asked, “Um, why?”
“I believe that I should under certain circumstances.”
“And what circumstances would that be?”
Castiel looked straight at Sam, brown eyes meeting blue. “I do not believe that I should disclose that at this moment.”
Dean looked between his brother and the angel and asked wryly, “Should I leave you two alone? I mean, we can rent a whole ‘nother motel room for the two of you.”
If looks could kill, Dean would have been dead on the spot from the look Sam was giving him. Instead, all he got was a slap on the back of his head and a confused look from Castiel.
“I just informed you that I did not need a room, Dean.”
Even Sam’s lips quirked into a smile at Castiel’s bemusement.
~*~
The motel was small, cheap and family-owned, which was rare in big cities like San Francisco. Sam and Dean had picked out their respective beds, Dean taking the bed near the door and Sam by the wall, as usual. Castiel sat on an armchair near the bathroom, body looking far too big for the chair, with a Bible in his hands.
“How many times do you think you’ve read that?” Sam asked as he took off his shirt to go to bed.
“I do not know. I never counted,” Castiel answered, blue eyes never leaving the holy book.
Dean got out of the bathroom, hair wet from the shower but jacket and jeans on. “I’m heading for the bar I saw a couple blocks down,” he looked at Sam in his underclothes. “I take it that you don’t want to come with me?”
Sam shook his head. “Nah, I’m cool. I just want to go to sleep.”
Dean muttered something that distinctly sounded like, ‘Such a girl’, before he asked Castiel the same question. Castiel declined but thanked him for the invitation.
The older brother nodded. “Fine. I’ll be back in a couple hours, okay? Don’t you two do anything I wouldn’t do,” he teased, winking at his brother and the angel.
Sam was tempted to give his brother the finger, but decided against it. It just seemed wrong in the presence of a holy being like Castiel, even if Dean was tainting him with pies and skin mags.
Dean left to go to the bar, ready to get some money from suckers who thought they could beat him at pool.
“Guess it’s just you and me,” Sam said, getting up to use the bathroom and brush his teeth.
“Yes, Samuel,” the angel said, closing his book and staring directly at Sam.
Sam squirmed under the intense gaze and walked to the bathroom.
He closed the door quickly. Castiel was acting so weird lately. Normally, he wouldn’t have spared a passing glance at Sam. Out of the two Winchester brothers, Dean was always the angel’s favorite. Always. But now he was so clingy to him, always keeping a sharp eye on him. And what was with the little mystery he’d been talking about earlier that day? The, ‘I cannot discuss that at the moment’ stuff was too clouded with mystery. Resigned, Sam started to brush his teeth, using the toothpaste that he and Dean would always pack up in their suitcases because it was inexpensive and neither had ever had a cavity since the youngest brother was ten and went a little too overboard with the Halloween candy.
Lost in his thoughts, Sam tripped over a pipe in the bathroom and fell face first onto the cold, grey floor, and the cheap, white toothpaste went splattering over his hair. He groaned. Damn, that really hurt.
Before he could get himself up, he felt careful hands go around his chest and help pull him up. Sam, startled, moved his head quickly to see who was pulling him back up. It was Castiel, his face serious - and was that concern? - while he moved the human upward.
When Sam was standing up, he looked at Castiel, whose hands had gone down from his chest to his stomach.
“Castiel,” Sam said, confused and slightly disoriented. “What are you doing?”
“I was correct,” Castiel said softly, in what sounded like amazement.
“Correct about what?” Sam asked, shying away from the touch.
“You are with child, Samuel.”
Sam laughed softly, feeling pity on the angel. He bet that they didn’t teach sex-ed up there in heaven.
“I can’t be, Cas,” he said as gently as he could, not wanting to offend him. “I don’t have all the right parts. Women do, I don’t.”
Castiel shook his head, hands now freely feeling Sam’s flat stomach. “No, you do. I sense it, the chasteness and wholeness of an unborn child. It is within you.”
More sober, Sam asked, “How could I be pregnant? I don’t have a uterus or a period or anything that’s necessary for pregnancy.”
“Have you committed sodomy lately?”
Sam physically squirmed at the memory. It was only a week ago but it seemed so much farther away than that.
As if Castiel had read his mind, the angel said, “Your child is small, almost unnoticeable, Samuel. It would only make sense that it would be conceived in the time span of a couple of weeks, if that. It is pure, despite it’s lineage.”
Sam would have bristled about the lineage comment if he weren’t so transfixed by Castiel’s words. He couldn’t be pregnant or ‘with child’, whatever Castiel wanted to call it. That was impossible, abnormal. Where would the baby even fucking grow in his body? There was just no room for it in his body.
“Okay, say that maybe I am,” Sam appeased Castiel. “How would I even become pregnant? I mean, yeah, I… had sex with a man but I can’t be pregnant. I mean, we even used a condom.” Sam’s cheeks turned a little rosy.
Things you wouldn’t normally tell an angel for five hundred dollars, Bob.
Castiel’s hands wandered lower on Sam’s stomach and pressed down lightly. “Something supernatural. Like you said, it is not natural for a human male to become pregnant, even with the demonic blood still running through your veins. Although this child’s conception is unusual, it is fully human, from what I can tell. Whole and human.”
Sam furrowed his brow when he came to the realization that Castiel was serious. That this wasn’t some elaborate prank his older brother came up with to rub Sam’s nose raw.
“You’re not messing with me, are you? You’re actually telling me the truth.”
Shaking his head, the angel said solemnly, “I never was and yes, I am telling the truth. I have no motive to lie to you.”
The human’s head started to swim. This was too much for him. He couldn’t be pregnant. He couldn’t. It was unnatural and weird and this… thing was obviously influenced by something that meant no good.
“You said it was human, right? I mean, despite everything? It’s not going to claw out my stomach or anything?”
“From this stage, it feels very human.”
“I had sex a week ago, it’s not a very long stage,” Sam muttered, unable to reach Castiel’s eyes.
“There is nothing dark in this child, Samuel, it would have shown already if it was anything demonic.”
Taking a deep breath, pinching his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, the human asked, “And you’re really, really sure about this?”
“Very, yes,” he tilted his head in curiosity. “I thought you would be pleased by this. You are very close to Dean. I would think that adding a new family member would be something of a celebratory occasion for you.”
It felt like a ton of bricks had hit his chest when he remembered Dean. God, it was so strange not to remember Dean. They’d grown up intertwined with one another, like the roots of two sister Redwood trees, and Dean was engraved into Sam’s mind. But his older brother wouldn’t like this one bit. Anything supernatural had to be killed, anything that was unusual or abnormal had to be eliminated. This news would be received with yells and anger and disappointment. Overwhelmed by all of this information, Sam sat down on the toilet lid, head hanging low.
“Can’t I just get rid of it?” Sam asked, hands cautiously going over his abdomen. It didn’t feel any bigger than it was but, then again, it shouldn’t have been. This thing was only conceived a week ago. Probably no bigger then a speck of dirt.
The corners of Castiel’s lips drooped down. “It is an innocent human life, Samuel. I do not condone it, even if this pregnancy is unplanned.”
Sam snorted cynically at the word ‘unplanned’. It was like saying that the huge zit on the top of your lip that felt like it was covering up your entire face on the exact night of prom was unplanned. It was but my God, what a bitch.
“Dean’s going to freak,” he said, mostly to himself.
Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “He will think it is wrong, I agree, but he stayed with you even when you were drinking the demon blood. At least this will come with a pleasing outcome.”
Sam physically flinched at the memory, his brother locking him up in Bobby’s safe room and the anger and rejection still fresh in his mind.
“He doesn’t even know I like guys like that,” Sam muttered, fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve and he felt like a kindergartner who had to tell his teacher that he couldn’t make a mothers’ day card all over again.
“Dean will find out sooner or later.”
“Don’t tell him about this. I’m serious, Castiel.”
Castiel did not say anything in response and avoided eye contact with Sam.
“Promise me, Castiel. Swear it.”
Castiel sighed. “I do not believe that this is the right decision, but it is yours. I will not tell Dean.”
Getting up from the toilet seat, Sam moved to his bed, fingers running through his hair in stress, and Castiel was trailing behind him like a puppy.
“You must be careful now, Samuel. Until you reach your third month, this pregnancy is highly unstable. And even then, the chance of miscarrying is very much a reality.”
Quirking his eyebrows, Sam asked, “How do you know so much about pregnancy?”
“I have been alive for thousands of years. Although some of your behavior is baffling, I know the mechanics of a human body.”
Sam nodded; it made sense that the holy being knew a lot about humans after watching over them since their creation. But be careful? In their line of work, getting hurt was inevitable, whether it was bruises and cuts or concussions and broken bones. A horrifying thought suddenly struck him.
“How will it even get out?”
“I suppose there will have to be an operation. An incision to take the child out of you.”
“A C-Section.”
Castiel nodded. “Yes, a C-Section. You have not commented on my statement about hunting.”
“I have to hunt, Castiel.”
“Then there is a strong chance that you till miscarry. You become stressed during your hunts, both physically and mentally.”
“I can’t just stop,” Sam said softly, imagining Dean’s reaction if he told him he had to stop hunting because he had a one-night stand’s baby inside him. That would go over well as well as when he decided to go to Stanford.
“Do you want this child?”
Hands wandered to his stomach again and he even surprised himself when he said, “Yeah, I do.” He felt like he wanted the baby for selfish reasons. He wanted someone who would look up to him as he looked up to Dean and someone who didn’t know the bad things he had done.
“Then you must be careful,” Castiel repeated. “Even if that means stopping hunts.”
Suddenly, Sam’s head felt like it was swimming and he laid down on his bed, putting his right hand over his eyes to block out the harsh motel light and to stop from getting nauseatingly dizzy.
“Can I take a pregnancy test just to make sure?” Sam asked, a little deliriously.
“You do not have the necessary hormones to make a pregnancy test read positive, but I assure you that I am correct.”
“I bet this is what the Virgin Mary felt,” Sam muttered.
Sam heard a soft gasp from Castiel, but didn’t bother moving his hand from his eyes. He was too dizzy. “That is blasphemous.” He could imagine the angel’s look of outrage.
“I just mean that she must have been shocked that she was pregnant like I was. She was a virgin and I had sex with a man. Neither of us thought we could get pregnant.”
“I still do not believe that you should put it in that context.”
“Yeah, probably not. Listen Cas, I’m just going to go back to bed, okay?” There was too much information to digest, too many weird things and he just felt so unbelievably tired.
Castiel hummed in agreement. “I shall watch over you now, Samuel.”
Samuel groaned. Just what he needed, a guardian angel that could look over him and a random guy’s baby and the guy wasn’t even that handsome.
Part Two: http://wendy-bird.livejournal.com/46497.html