Chapter Text
Dean proceeded more cautiously when it came to rousing Sam, having learned his lesson earlier.
Of all the things he’d hoped to never have to see, Mike Shurley treating Adam like the all you can eat pussy buffet was close to the top of the list. He wished futilely for brain bleach even as part of him was glad that you couldn’t get an Omega pregnant doing that.
When they’d gone downstairs, Dean wasn’t surprised to see a handful of party guests still clustered in the kitchen, though they were now all quietly sitting around over cups of coffee. Most of the guests had cleared out completely. Any talking was just murmurs. Some of them were looking like they were heading into hangover territory without passing through sleep first though most of them just looked happily tired. Amara pressed a cup of coffee into Cas’s hands first.
“Castiel, I wanted to let you know we’ll be having a serious family meeting this afternoon,” she said. “About my brother. You’ll attend of course.”
“Of course,” Cas said.
“Just one cup should be fine for the pup,” she said, handing Dean a cup.
“I’m not…” Dean said. Yes, it seemed pretty inevitable, but it was just too soon to call the game. He was pretty sure nothing would show up on a pregnancy test anyway.
Amara just smiled and said, “Maybe not by the books but I think we both know.”
Maybe Amara was kind of a witch, like Rowena and Gabe. Like she could see the spirit of the pup gathering round Dean or something. Either way, Dean was having his coffee, because he needed it like oxygen right now. The coffee was safe. Dean had done his reading. You shouldn’t go crazy, but one cup of regular joe was fine and on a morning like today, he definitely needed it. There were a lot of things he’d need to change because of getting pregnant, but at least he still had his coffee for now. While he sipped, he texted Sam.
“About to head over to you. First warning.”
Coffee finished, they walked the couple of blocks to his house. In the cold dark, Dean thought about things. He thought a little about the family meeting that Amara was calling, but not much. That was Shurley family business mostly, though Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t want to have a few more choice words with Chuck. He thought more about his own small family. It was changing, no doubt about that. Would he be able to keep up with the bakery with the pup on the way? Especially because Sam had hooked back up with Vince, which meant, most likely, Sam was going off to wherever Vince went. Adam was getting married in the spring, and maybe it might have been snooping, but Dean had seen the opened envelope from USD and Adam was starting classes in the fall. Dean might well be holding up the whole bakery on his shoulders come the fall, which was about the time that the pup would be due or close to due.
“Maybe you’d better plan on me being a stay at home Oma,” Dean said. “I don’t know how I’m going to run things once Sam and Adam are off doing their thing. I might have to shut Three Brothers Down.”
“Would you be willing to let me take a look at your books?” Cas asked. “I might be able to find the cash flow for more employees than just Kevin. In any case, it makes sense for you and your brothers to sit down together and make a plan for the future instead of worrying about it silently until a crisis comes.”
“You know the problem with you, Cas? You’re logical and that makes sense,” Dean said, grumpily, once they’d arrived at home. “We’re here. Once we go in, we should make a lot of noise so no one is caught by surprise this time.”
“I agree,” Cas said. “I only caught a little of what you must have seen but it was more than enough.”
Any situation where you caught even a glimpse of your bare ass naked sibling was bad news. Dean texted Sam again letting him know that he was here. Dean stomped up the front steps and across his small porch. He looked to the right where he’d hung a porch swing last summer. Not that he’d used it much, but it looked homey, even with a pillow of snow on it. He hadn’t done much decorating of his own. They all went to Bobby’s for the solistice night and morning, but he’d taken the time to hang the traditional wreath of fresh evergreens on the front door. He’d painted the door red last summer and it looked good with the dark green wreath. For all he said he wanted the Wolcott mansion, he could hardly imagine living anywhere but here in his first house. The one that he’d made into a home for his brothers, a place of safety and security. As a pup, there’d been so long that they didn’t have a permanent home, not until Bobby. He’d loved the handful of days he’d shared his home with Cas too, how easy it had been to fall into comfy routines. Maybe they didn’t need to buy something else?
“I don’t wanna move,” Dean said, pausing before opening his red door. “Maybe with my brothers moving on, this place is big enough for us for now.”
“Of course, Dean,” Cas said. “No decision needs to be made now.”
Dean decided he was going to call Sam before even walking into the house. The phone rang a few times before Sam picked up.
“Yeah,” Sam answered, sounding kind of breathless. Oh, yeah, definitely it was a good choice to give him plenty of advanced warning. Sam asked, “What time is it?”
“Bout four thirty,” Dean said. A little closer to quarter to five, honestly. On the other end of the line, there was a scuffle, some muffled sounds.
Then Vince came on the line, “Sam’s calling in to work today. Important stuff going on…”
More muffled shouting and the thud of a phone dropped on the floor. That was definitely Sam saying, “You can’t do that…” Dean opened his door and stepped into the front hallway. He figured even if they were probably bare assed naked, they weren’t actively fucking. Warning had been given, received and understood.
“Yeah, so get this,” Sam said, finally in control of the phone again. “Vince and I got mated last night. I need a little more time before I can start my day. We’re…”
“Don’t say it,” Dean snapped, immediately coming to conclusions about why Sam and Vince might ‘need a little more time’ before Sam could make it to work. “Look, I gotta get some fresh clothes so I’m coming upstairs, but I won’t bother you. Just so long as you get to work by open.”
Dean hung up before Sam could answer and shoved the phone in his pocket. Before walking upstairs, he decided on a quick glass of water and walked into an unholy mess of a kitchen. Someone had been cooking, his big sauté pan still sitting on the stove, remains of solidfied white with brown speckles bacon grease in it. Cutting board and knife used, looking greasy, and left on the counter, next to that a mostly, but not totally finished bowl of spaghetti coated with a congealed yellow-ish sauce. The last of the eggs turned to eggshells. Big pile of clothes on the table. There was a weird smell in the air, food mixed with something. A bloodstained rag sitting on the edge of the sink and if you looked down at the floor, you could see several bloodstains that probably hadn’t been that bad, but they’d been smeared in a cleaning attempt, so made worse. At first Dean was alarmed, wondering maybe Sam had cut himself cooking or something, but then the pile of clothes and what Sam had said about getting mated added up to something very different.
His kitchen had been defiled. They’d done the deed in his kitchen. Right on the floor next to the table. Sam had gotten mated only a few feet away from where Dean was standing. Oh, yeah, that’s what that smell was. Sex. It reeked of sex. Dean hated to think what the place would look like if you went all dateline on it. A glowup like those glow in the dark stars in some pre-teen pups bedroom.
He turned away from the crime scene and almost stepped on a little green box. He picked it up and opened it up. It was a ring box with a slit in the velvet where a ring would sit.
Cas was waiting in the doorway and when Dean looked up from the ring box Cas said, “It would appear they’ve also gotten engaged.”
“And desecrated my kitchen,” Dean said, about to storm up and pound on Sam’s door despite how he’d just said that he wouldn’t. First, Mike Shurley had been performing unspeakable acts on his pup and now Sam had been dancing the horizontal tango on the kitchen floor and leaving it a godawful mess when that was the one rule. You picked up after your own self in the kitchen. Dean hadn’t thought he’d needed to make a second rule about not fucking where people cooked food. That seemed like it should be self evident.
“It doesn’t appear to be that bad. It could probably be set to rights in short order,” Cas said, following Dean back to the hallway.
Dean stormed up the stairs. As expected, Sam’s door was shut. No sound came from within. Everything else seemed normal and everything else was in place. The house was tidy except for the kitchen. He said he wouldn’t bother Sam but words needed to be said.
“Sam!” Dean called. “Don’t answer. Just warning you that the kitchen better be spotless and scentless when I get home tonight. Bleach. Scent killer. Flame thrower. Whatever it takes.”
There was no response from Sam’s room. That might have been for the better.
After that, Dean changed quickly, shedding the grumpy cat sweater for his usual t-shirt and flannel combo. Dark green today because that was festive but understated. His biggest pair of jeans was only a little too tight. And his boobs hurt when he pulled on his usual compression top so he went with just a light tank top undershirt. His boobs shouldn’t be swelling already, should they? He’d always been on the small side there, even for a male Omega, but they definitely looked like boobs now and not just a chest. Dean thought about saying something to Cas, but he didn’t want Cas to get any ideas. They had to get out the door before too much longer. Cas was buttoning a light blue work shirt over a green t-shirt. As he did though, he was eating Dean up with his eyes.
“You look amazing,” Cas said, digging a burgundy hoodie out of one of his bags. “Are you sure we have to open the bakery so early? Maybe we could…”
“No, we have to get started,” Dean said. Truth was, he was a little torn. He’d be lying if he said there wasn’t an urge to fall back into bed with Cas right now, but Sam was just across the hallway doing god knows what with Vince. Also, Dean’s boobs hurt and he was pretty sure the thing that Cas was staring at, that looked so amazing was them and their suddenly increased size.
Once he and Cas were dressed, they made their way over to Three Brothers. He didn’t necessarily take the shortest way, through the kitchen and out to the alley. He couldn’t bear to look at the kitchen again and have to leave it that way. He guided them out the front door and around the block, the long way. He didn’t want to get on with his day, was procrastinating a little. It would be long and hard. He wasn’t even sure if his brothers were going to show up for this, especially Sam.
He wished he could call Sam, tell him he wasn’t needed, not today, not ever, but the brutal truth was, Dean couldn’t do this without Sam. Adam was important, no doubt about that, but without Sam, how was Dean going to keep the bakery going? They shored up each other’s weaknesses, did what the other couldn’t. Sure, if Dean had to, he could do the laminated doughs, form the croissants, the danishes. But Sam was just plain better at it. He was the de facto manager, kept them in order. Maybe he could pay someone to do that, so that he could give Sam his blessing to go off with Vince. If Cas could find the money for employees.
When he got to the bakery, someone was already there. The front was still dark but he could see the light on in the kitchen. Dean let them in the front door and immediately, the douchiest, awfullest music assaulted his tender ears at a volumes meant more for concert venues than a bakery kitchen.
“Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes, ‘cause I’m Mr. Brightside…” the little speaker wailed. That had to be Adam’s music. Had to be. How had he gotten here first though? Last he’d seen Adam…well, he didn’t want to think about how he’d last seen Adam.
Dean pushed through the swinging door and into the kitchen to see Adam, apron tied on, already hard at work, turning on ovens, checking on items in the proofer. Focused and intent. He looked….happy? Almost dancing as he moved around the kitchen. Like really happy. Much happier than he should be given how long this day was going to be. Or given that he’d been walked in on…though to be fair, if Dean had spent the night getting the kind of treatment it seemed like Adam had been getting from Michael, Dean would be over the moon too. The next moment, Michael walked through the door from the basement stairs carrying a fifty pound bag on each shoulder like it wasn’t anything.
“Where’d you want this sugar, Babe?” Michael asked. He looked over at Dean and was that a blush on his cheeks? He didn’t say anything though and Dean wasn’t about to.
“Bin’s right there,” Adam said, pointing.
For a minute there, Dean was about to explode, about the music, about everything. But he remembered the letter from USD and thought about how Adam wouldn’t be here in this kitchen next Yule. Maybe not Sam either. This might be their last working together like this. It’d be better for him not to be a bitch about things today. Go with the flow and not have a temper about the douchebag music.
“Hey Dean,” Adam said, switching on the fryer. “Not going to bitch about it not being your Dino rock?”
“Maybe turn it down,” Dean said, reaching for an apron. “I like my ear drums where they are. You get an hour, then it’s Zepp. And once we open, it’s gotta be Yule tunes.”