Chapter Text
Four years later…..
“How much farther?”
“Nearly there, love.”
Castiel guided Dean a few more steps, then stopped him by a ground dock. He reached up, undoing the blindfold’s knot before letting black fabric fall from his mate’s eyes. Dean opened them, blinking rapidly, squinting in the bright light of Helios’ double suns. It took a moment, but he got a good look at the ship in front of them as Castiel rolled up the blindfold, pushing it into a pocket.
“No,” he said slowly. “No way.”
“Yes, way. She hasn’t been looked after, there’s a laundry list of parts you will need to hunt down, she had to be towed here, but Bobby said she still has good bones.”
Dean stepped off the solid platform, slowly walking around the ship, russet grass swishing around his boots. “She’s…this is one of the first scout ships they made to handle wormhole jumps. She was running the space around earth when Baby rolled off the assembly line.”
“What do you think?”
“You got me this beauty of an antique, not gonna ask where you found it….you know it’s gonna take me a few years to get her mint, right?”
“Bobby estimates three years.”
Dean didn’t answer until he had circled the entirety of the comparatively small ship, only eighty feet from bow to stern. When he stood on the dock platform again, next to her lowered gangplank, he slowly turned to stare at the Alpha. “Thank you.”
Smiling warmly, Castiel offered him the starter chip, which would also grant him access. “Would you like to board her?”
His Omega took it, already mounting the gangplank. Castiel followed, pleased. If the unconscious flutter in his mate’s wings was to go by, Dean was downright delighted. Good.
It had been something of a game he played, in these recent years. Dean had no interest in shiny trinkets or pretty baubles, simply throwing credits at him wouldn’t win favor. Sure expensive alcohol was always welcome, a comfortable bed big enough his wings never went over the edge, a growing collection of soft sheets in every shade of the visible color spectrum, but otherwise you had to search in alternative departments to find things that suited him. Please him. Made his face light up and his feathers ruffle happily on pricked up wings. This was not the first antique-caliber vessel Castiel had presented to his mate, but it was the oldest, and promised to take the most time. A very reliable source had agreed that a long-term project to sink his teeth into would be a welcome gift. Bobby had even helped him get the USS Lazarus here.
After leaving Gaia Station from the last Unity Event either had attended, Castiel had only returned to Poluck Moon once, to collect his belongings and ship them to Dean’s residence. He had courted his Omega, but in the end they had still mated nine months after first meeting, when he’d been allowed to join Dean in his heat. Making the permanent mark now a silvery scar just above his scent glands. Matching the same one on his own neck.
He tried to be relatively hands-off, since taking over his family’s organization. He did keep up with everything, religiously, determined to minimize what would inevitably slip through cracks. The first two years had been rocky, but things had smoothed out since. He visited various offices and stations, but didn’t take much of a salary. Comparatively speaking. He still devoted attention to his books and personal endeavors, which provided plenty of credits to live off, and then some.
His mate stayed out of his operations for the most part, unless he was feeling nosey or got drafted as a plus one to an event Castiel refused to suffer alone. He was far more interested in Castiel’s writing endeavors. Worse, he got along very well with Meg. Any relief Castiel might have initially felt at his oldest friend bonding with his mate had gone up in smoke when they realized they could gang up on him.
For his part, Dean still kept his hands busy on ships, fixing, restoring. He didn’t mind when Castiel’s work took him off the moon, though he did always welcome him back enthusiastically. A few times he’d even gone along, and they’d made extra stops in corners of the ‘verse neither had gotten to visit yet. The sapphire falls on Belgore, Kilma migrations in the Tripit system, jarkic fields in Morad when they were in full bloom. He’d never liked traveling much, as much as he might have enjoyed the destinations. The Alpha had since concluded he simply hadn’t had the proper company.
He watched Dean move from one section of the barely space-worthy ship to another, poking, prodding, studying, muttering a rambling list of what needed to be done. A soft smile was on his face as he drifted in his Omega’s wake. He liked seeing Dean at work, undivided attention on the project at hand.
Castiel waited until they were at the helm, Dean looking over the barely functional controls, to ask, “Think this will keep you occupied for a while?”
Dean straightened, giving him an incredulous look. “You kidding? No idea where Bobby got three years. I'd say four, with all the parts that’ll need to be tracked down or remade.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thanks, Cas,” Dean chuckled, stepping forward, wrapping arms around his shoulders and kissing him sweetly. As hands settled on his hips, pulling him close, the Helioian continued, “You can’t keep doing this, ya know.”
“I see no reason why not.” It had recently been decided, behind closed doors, that when their parents stepped down Dean and Sam would take over as co-rulers. Neither wanted the position in full, so splitting duties seemed more palatable. Even when he started splitting his time between moon and planet, Dean preferred keeping his hands busy.
“You really gatta stop wasting credits on shit like this.”
“They’re my credits to waste, love.”
“Yeah, uh, about that.” He kept one arm on Castiel’s shoulder, reaching down with the other to take his com unit from a pocket. He unlocked it, opening a message and an attached document. “Think it’s time you dusted off those plotting chops. You’ve pissed people off, I’ve pissed people off, and I’m gonna want a nest egg brooding that ain’t reliant on one credit flow.”
Castiel frowned at him, baffled, but looked at the document being turned towards him. He freed a hand to take the com, glancing it over, stiffening a little when he realized it was a medical document. Test results. He read it over carefully, free hand tightening on Dean. It was dated a week ago. When he’d been wrapping up business with Elijah and going to pick up the USS Lazarus. Dean had gone to a local clinic.
Medicine was not his strong suit, that was Muriel. A few chemical levels were marked as low or high, but he had no frame of reference for whether any were good or bad. Were they good or bad? Should he be worried? Why was Dean showing it to him like this?
The Alpha’s growing spiral came to an abrupt, grinding halt when he made it halfway down the readout. He stared at that line, reading it a second, a third time.
Slowly, he looked up at Dean’s face, the only thing coming out of his mouth a quiet, “Pregnant?”
Dean gave him a crooked smile, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, they had to take out the implant.”
“You’re pregnant?” The little box by ‘Yes’ had been filled. Below that was estimated date of conception. Apparently that implant had finally given up the ghost during his mate’s last heat.
“Three months. Give or take. It was just a basic catch-all. Think Muriel knows any good- ”
His com hit the ground as Castiel thoughtlessly dropped it, his mate cutting off in a squawk as he laughed, lifting him up and spinning him around. “Pregnant!”
“Damn it, Cas!” Dean blurted, fumbling to grab his shoulders, huffing as he was plopped back down onto his own two feet again. “Yeah, I am. I’ve been feeling….I dunno, off. Didn’t think it was this, but…yeah. So you’re not…I know we hadn’t planned on doing this for another year or two.”
“Of course I’m not upset, why would I be?” Castiel protested. He cupped Dean’s face in his hands, slanting an enthusiastic kiss over his mouth, a little awkward since he couldn’t stop smiling.
Dean huffed a laugh, wrapping arms around his shoulders as he was picked up, his rump set down on the nearest inactive control panel. “Some Seraphim you turned out to be,” he chuckled, face peppered with kisses as their pants were undone with practiced ease.
“When the occasion calls for it. This hardly does.”
He hoped they got Dean’s wings. He’d fantasized before, this was just the first time there was an inkling of it coming to fruition. A fistful of winged pups running rampant in their home, laughing, playing, learning, growing. Everything he had been denied, and then some.
They had developed a habit, when Dean picked up a new restoration, particularly the ones he kept. Those Castiel found for him ended up in a growing collection. Each one was christened, at least once. Though this was the first time he literally ripped his Omega’s clothes off to do it.
Wings sagged as the Alpha took him, a soft, moaning sigh on full lips as they slowly drooped over the control panels. Long legs wrapping around him, hands pushing up under his clothes, running up into his hair. Clinging to him outright, eagerly matching his intensity head-on. Considering they’d made love just last night, Castiel couldn’t get enough of him, itching to devour him in every way possible.
After, when they had moved to the floor, Castiel propped up against the console, Dean asked drowsily, “This a celebration, or a christening?”
Castiel hummed, holding his Omega close, cradled to his chest as his knot deflated. “Mm, celebration. We still have to christen it.”
“Still not sure why you think I’m the insatiable one,” his mate grumbled, but he was smiling as he leaned up, cupping Castiel’s face and pulling him into a kiss.