The sweet smell of pre-heat is clinging to Castiel, and it’s driving Dean mad.
It has been a bit of a surprise when Castiel, as a fresh human, presented as an Omega, though it did make Dean’s inner Alpha purr. Now, though, his Alpha is on edge, irritated, longing; Dean is overcome with the need to shove his nose up Cas’ neck and scent him, to build him a warm and safe place where he can stay during his heat (and forever after), to hug Cas softly and protectively and make sure that nothing bad could ever happen to him again. Castiel is simply so vulnerable now, newly human and almost in heat, and Dean feels his instincts, whether personal or biological, go into overdrive. Cas deserves to have a safe space during his heat, and someone to take care of him – someone who feeds him and makes sure he drinks enough, someone who washes his body and holds him close to provide him with the bodily contact he will be crying for. Not having any of this as an Omega who has known this all their life would be bad enough already, but for Cas, who is entirely new to even perceiving physical sensations, it will be terrifying.
But Dean knows that Cas and him, they are not like that. It’s not his place to ask Cas for him to be allowed to tend him through his heat. And Cas probably doesn’t even know that he is going to need this, so he sure as hell won’t ask Dean either. It leaves Dean upset and restless, and every now and then, he thinks that maybe he should explain to Cas what exactly is going to happen and confess that Dean would volunteer gladly to be the one to care for him, but he’s too much of a coward to go through with it. Sam doesn’t say anything either, instead he just raises his eyebrows pointedly and stares at Dean whenever Dean brings up letting him explain those biological matters to Cas.
It’s one night spent more awake than asleep, with Dean throwing himself from one side of the bed to the other, trying to occupy his mind with anything but Cas and his upcoming heat, when there is suddenly shuffling in his room and Dean’s mattress is dipping down. With the reflexes of a hunter, Dean almost jumps at the intruder with his knife fetched from his nightstand, but as soon as he takes in that familiar pattern of breathing and especially that scent, Dean immediately stills.
“Cas?” Dean asks, unsure. His senses are being flooded with the smell and the heat of Cas’ body and with Cas lifting the blankets and, without any forewarning, slipping beneath them.
“Cas?” Dean asks again, his voice trembling. He can hear Cas puff out a breath, and then suddenly, there is a warm hand cupping the side of his face and an even warmer body pressing tightly against his own. Dean feels dizzy with it.
“I want to sleep here, Dean. Would that be alright?” Cas whispers, the tone of it honey-sweet, even more so than usual. Dean could never deny him anything when he sounds like this, and smells like this.
“Y-yeah, sure,” Dean stimmers; his head is swimming with how good he feels – how pleased he is. There is something to be said about having your Omega pressed up against you, safe and sweet-smelling in your bed. It settles something deep within Dean.
“Good,” Cas hums, and his hand slides lower, from Dean’s cheeks down to his throat, coming to a rest there. “I don’t mean just tonight,” he clarifies, almost like an afterthought, “but also during my heat. And every night after.”
Dean is thankful for the darkness hiding his blush - what the hell, so Cas did realize. What’s more, what he’s suggesting – proposing, more like – right now is a bit… “Cas,” Dean croaks out, “do you even know what you’re saying?”
A huffing sound – Cas sounds amused yet irritated. Dean can easily picture his face, knows what he must look like right now despite the darkness. “I can assure you, I am very well aware of what this means.” Dean feels and hears how Cas takes a deep breath at the dip of Dean’s throat, his nose caressing the skin while he is scenting Dean like a mate would. “Unless you have reservations?” He asks, rumbly and tinged just so in uncertainty – maybe he thinks he misread Dean and everything they are. Though he is exactly right.
Dean tips his head back enough to grant Cas proper access to all of his throat and neck, baring all he has and could give. With the same motion, he rests his still-dizzy head back on his pillow, and it’s the comfort that is washing over him that makes him bolder, or maybe it’s instinct. Because he simply has to put his arms around Cas and draw him in with his legs, closer, closer, and for him to bury both of them even deeper into the sheets – and for one insane moment, Dean allows himself the thought that this will be their nest. “Absolutely not. I want you here, with me.”
Cas’ smile against his throat is the best thing ever.