miserable old woman/man with nothing to do in life but rot in their apartment/house, and probably has some sort of mental health problem they don't know about?
A/N: This was a prompt for @spnrareshipbingo. I saw some gender bent Sam photos and….this is what came of it.
Credits: Header by @padalelli; image from this post by @cryptidmax
Sam was 10 the first time he put lipstick on. He’d found a tube rolling around the back seat of the Impala on their way to another hunt. John had made Dean go along with him, leaving Sam alone at a cheap motel. He’d seen the older girls at school putting it on in their locker mirrors; it didn’t look too hard.
He was curious to know how it felt. He’d seen his dad coming in some mornings with lipstick smears on his face and neck. John seemed happier those mornings. Still a dick, but happier. He applied it in the locked motel bathroom. It was a dark red and made his lips feel smooth. He thought the color suited him but he wiped it off with tissue and buried the lipstick in his duffel. His dad would not be happy if he found it.
Sam was 15 when he first tried on a dress. He was at a friend’s house for a party. It was a dare. It felt weirdly right when he looked in the mirror. Dad would kill me if I showed up in a dress.
He walked out of the back room to complete his dare. He kept the dress on for the rest of the round then went change. He laid the dress down on the bed and contemplated taking it. He didn’t, though, and trekked back to the motel after the party more confused than he’d ever been.
Sam was 18 when he and John stopped talking. Sam was headed out to Stanford on a full ride. John was not happy. Sam packed his things and stormed out. He made sure to grab the dresses and heels he’d had stashed and went to Missouri’s house. She knew what Sam was and she accepted it.
Sam was 19 when he fully embraced his transgender identity and started growing his hair out and wearing clothes more feminine in style. No one at Stanford questioned it. He changed to she/her pronouns and consulted a doctor about hormone therapy. She thought about how good she felt being herself and laughed at how pissed John would be. She wondered about Dean’s reaction.
She only had to wait 3 years to find out. Dean snuck in Sam’s apartment. He was shocked to see a woman and began to backtrack and apologize before Sam recognized him. “Dean?”
“Sammy?” Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah. Dean, what are you doing here?” Sam asked, turning the lights on so she could see her brother.
“Dad’s on a hunting trip and I haven’t heard from him in three days.” Dean never mentioned the transition; he never questioned Sam. When they found John, Dean stood between the two of them and faced John down, daring him to say something about his Sammy. Because he would protect his sister just like he protected his brother. From their father, from demons, from transphobes, homophobes, and everything else. It was his duty as a big brother.
Sam listens to the rain fall against the bedroom window and the quiet piano music playing from his phone.
Midnight.
Actually, 11:59 PM.
The last minute of the day.
John was fond of saying that the worst possible things could happen in the minute before one day becomes another. Separation. Temptation. Suffering. Death.
So when Sam wakes up, fifty-five years old, in a bed he shares with Dean, he immediately checks the time.
11:59 PM.
He listens to his environment, feels the darkness of their room, and steadies his breathing so he can listen to the sound of Dean’s.
Time seems to linger from second to second. All he has to do is wait out this minute, but it feels more like an hour. Thunder rumbles far away. The air conditioning maintains its steady hum. Dean stirs, but continues to sleep.
They had sex tonight.
Sam replays certain moments. Like the sigh and groan Dean gave after pushing inside Sam. Relief and pleasure. Then the throaty growls and grunts once they started moving against and towards each other. Sam on his back, Dean on his knees. It started raining just about the same time that Dean tensed because of pain in his knee.
Sam offered to ride him instead. Make it easier on his knee.
Dean shook his head and kept going.
It wasn’t the first time they had sex since Sam’s stroke. That was more desperate. More rushed. More like the kind of sex they had as teenagers in motels.
Tonight felt more like the sex they’ve been having for the past few years.
Dean filled Sam up, his cock hard and heavy, flushed and twitching. He leaned back, which gave Sam a full length mirror kind of view. The dip of Dean’s collarbone, the outline of his hipbones, the impressive strength of his arms and hands.
There was a fleeting feeling of discomfort. Not physical. Not quite emotional. Something that went as deep as Dean pushed in.
Something like a math problem where Sam knew the formula, but couldn’t quite find the right numbers for it. He worked and reworked the problem, over and over in his head, breathing and moving, but not entirely...
“Here,” Dean murmured and grasped Sam’s hand. “Stay with me here.”
How’d he know? Then again. How has he known without being explicitly told? Is it that obvious in Sam’s face?
Sam kept a tight grip on Dean’s hand.
Dean leaned down and kissed him.
When they finished, Dean said nothing about Sam’s cock. He didn’t call attention to the fact that it had been soft the entire time.
All he did was clean them both up. He brought Sam a drink of water and nighttime meds, then he took a Tylenol for himself. They fell asleep listening to Zeppelin from Dean’s phone before Sam switched over to piano on his.
Midnight.
Actually, 12:01 AM.
Sam sits up in bed and pushes his hair out of his face. He looks over at his nightstand and takes a deep breath before reaching out to grab an orange Walgreens pill bottle.
One blue pill shakes out of its bottle and into Sam’s waiting palm.
He stares at the pill.
This is technically a new day and nothing horrible has happened.
If anything, something good will happen. Hopefully. Maybe. What if this is a mistake? What if it’s too late in life?
Dean sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes. His hair sticks out in every direction and he’s got a pout on his lips the size of Nevada.
“Sammy?” His voice is deep and rough with sleep. “You okay?”
Sam takes the pill, then looks over to Dean. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“...was that the last one for the week?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” He lies back down, this time on his side and facing Sam. “Then we’re good.”
12:05 AM.
“We’re good,” Sam repeats. He places the pill bottle back on his nightstand and settles back into his side of the bed.
I did it. Here it is. It’s 2:01 a.m. but I finished. To all who have pushed me and encouraged me to keep writing, here you go. @zzzett @eruthiawenluin @smolshork @pienotcakeyouassbutt @samwise-the-true-hero @casquecest @sastiel-and-such @sassypancakes @sassyheaven
Word Count: 8895 (holy shit)
Warnings: one (1) paragraph of slight smut and oblique mention of childbirth, otherwise it’s a load of fluffy pregnancy shit, also unbeta’d so beware
Sam walks slowly but purposefully through the grocery store, taking a specific path that will allow him to get everything he needs without allowing him to be distracted. It’s been especially hard shopping for food recently, since he’s nearly always hungry and craving one thing or another. He checks off his list in his head as he grabs fresh fruits and vegetables, boxes of pasta and bags of rice, and some choice meat. His eye is caught by a box of ice cream sandwiches as he passes their aisle, but he keeps moving. (His body says “oh but those would be so yummy” and his mind says “they’re unhealthy and you shouldn’t spend your money on them anyway”.)
As he’s grabbing a box of granola, he accidentally knocks off another couple of cereal boxes. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, groaning at the thought of having to bend down. Just as he braces himself to do so, one hand tucked under his stomach to support the weight there, someone else’s hands reach down and grab all the boxes, putting them back. He looks up in surprise, meeting blue eyes and a kind smile. “Oh, uh… thanks,” he says, remembering to smile at the last minute.
“It’s no problem,” the man replies as he places the last box back on the shelf. “I like to help out where I can.”
“That’s kind of you. Not a lot of people make an effort to pay attention to others.”
The man shrugs. “I’m aware of that.”
Awkward silence. Then, “Well, thanks again.” Sam nods to him and pushes forward with his cart, heading for the last item on his list. He can feel eyes on the back of his head but he keeps his gaze straight forward. The thought occurs to him that the man had only helped him because he’d assumed he was a woman, but he shakes it off and grabs a jar of peanut butter. What does it matter what the man thought? He’ll never see him again.
Or so he thought. As he gets in line to check out, he notices the helpful man checking out in a different line. They walk in the same direction with their bagged groceries, and a little shiver of… fear? apprehension? goes through Sam. But then blue-eyes stops next to a black Triumph Spitfire, and the tension leaves Sam’s shoulders. He loads his groceries into the back of his Mazda2 and drives home, quickly forgetting about the encounter.
Cinnamon greets him as he pulls into the driveway, reared up on her hind legs and resting against the gate. “Hey there, Cin,” he says, smiling. She barks once, her tail wagging wildly. “No household disturbances while I was gone, sweetie?” He opens the gate and carefully lowers himself to his knees, Cinnamon pressing forward to lick his face and then whuff softly at his belly. Standing back up, he goes and opens the front door, then goes back to get the groceries. Cinnamon insists on helping, so Sam gives her a bag to carry into the kitchen as he grabs the rest and shuts the trunk.
As he’s putting the groceries away, his phone rings and he answers, tucking it between his ear and shoulder. “Hey, Dean.”
“Hey Sam,” his older brother says. There’s a loud crash in the background and Sam smiles as Dean pulls away from the phone to shout, “Ben, what did I say about driving your RC car down the stairs?”
“Single parenting it today, huh?”
Dean chuckles through the line. “Yeah, Lisa and Cassie are out having a ‘girl’s day’ at the spa or something.”
“Oh, fun.”
“Yeah, for them. Hold on a sec.” Sam stifles a chuckle as he hears Dean talk Ben into sitting down on the couch and watching some television. “Okay, I think I’ve got him distracted with something quiet long enough to talk. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing good. Check-up on Thursday to make sure their health is still good.”
“You still not gonna let them tell you what your baby is?”
“Dean, we’ve talked about this.” Sam puts away the last of the food and hangs his reuseable grocery bags on a hook in the wall. “Gender is a social construct, and even a baby’s sex isn’t fixed. So until they’re born, I’m not making any assumptions.”
“All right, all right. Oh, hey, when are you gonna have your baby shower, by the way? Cassie’s been talking my ear off about what she wants to get.”
Sam laughs a little, sitting down at the kitchen table and looking at the large desk calendar that takes up most of the space. “Uh, I think I’m gonna do it two weeks from tomorrow. I’ve got a registry set up that I can share with everyone.”
“Good, good. I’m sure the girls will insist we buy at least half the list.”
“Don’t bankrupt yourselves for me,” Sam jokes.
“Got it.” Dean goes quiet for a second, then, hesitantly, “So, still no word from the other guy?”
A pang goes through him, briefly. “No, no word. He’s probably busy with work. Doesn’t matter though. At this point he’s given up his rights to fatherhood.”
“Probably for the best. You don’t need a guy who won’t be there for you or the kid.”
“Yeah.” Another small silence. “Well, I should go. Gotta get dinner made, stuff like that.”
“Yeah, yeah, me too. Hey, you still coming over for barbecue and fireworks on Saturday?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely. Wouldn’t miss the Fourth for anything.”
“Good! Well, we’ll see ya then. Take care, Sammy.”
“You too, Dean.” They hang up, and Sam sighs a little. He puts a reminder on the calendar to make a couple pies for the Fourth of July party and then starts dinner.
~~~
The nurse performing the ultrasound nods to herself, making a few notes on a clipboard. “Everything appears to be fine. Both babies are healthy and growing normally.” Sam smiles thankfully at her and she returns it, her eyes a little playful. “Have you decided yet when you’re gonna tell your friends and family that it’s twins?”
“At the baby shower,” he says. “It’s in two weeks.”
“Oh good.” She cleans the gel off his skin and then helps him sit up. “Remember, you’re in the last trimester. You’ll have to be extra careful with your physical activity, especially bending and lifting.” Sam nods as he stands. “Good. I’ve got a prescription for some vitamins too, just to help the babies’ growth. We’ll see you in two weeks, Sam.”
He changes back into his sweats and overlarge t-shirt and leaves, stopping by the front desk to order his prescription and schedule his next appointment. Driving home, he starts to make a list of what he’ll need for the babies and what items to put on the registry for people to buy for the baby shower.
A loud pop and a tug on the steering wheel brings Sam back to the present. “Shit.” He must have blown a tire. Carefully, he steers the car to the side of the road, thankful that there’s not much traffic as he turns the hazard lights on. With a sigh he leaves the car and assesses the damage: a tire that’s completely blown, practically shredded. He considers replacing the tire himself; he does have a jack in the back and the spare tire should still be good. But then a small kick from inside him makes him shake his head and pull out his phone. Just as he’s dialing the number for a tow service, a black Spitfire pulls over, coming to a stop behind him.
“Do you need help?” the driver calls, getting out and walking closer.
Sam’s eyebrows raise as he recognizes the man from the grocery store. “Um, oh, yeah. Yeah, that’d be great. I was actually about to call someone.”
“I’m more than happy to help.” Recognition flashes in those blue eyes and the man holds out his hand. “My name’s Castiel, by the way. We met at the store a few days ago, didn’t we?”
He shakes his hand (warm, firm grip, some calluses), nodding. “Yeah, in the cereal aisle. I’m Sam.”
Castiel nods and then motions towards the car. “Is it just the blown tire, then?”
“Uh yeah, I think so. I’ve got a spare in the back.” He presses the button on his key fob to open the trunk and then reaches down to move the carpet back. The blue-eyed man reaches in, takes out the jack, and starts loosening the tire. “I really appreciate you stopping, actually,” Sam says after a few moments of semi-awkward silence. “I’ve gotta pick up a prescription and who knows how long the road-side assistance would have taken to get here.”
“It’s no problem. Like I said before, I try to help where I can.”
“Normally I would do it myself, but…”
“You shouldn’t put your health at risk. It’s smart.” Castiel finishes jacking up the car and crooks a corner of his mouth at Sam as he grabs the lug nut remover. “How far along are you, if I may ask?”
Surprise runs through Sam for a moment -- this guy’s just taking it so casually, usually it takes some explaining -- but he answers, “About thirty weeks.”
“Yes, you definitely need to be careful.” There’s a more comfortable silence this time as Castiel removes the lug nuts and then the tire. Sam shifts on his feet, fatigue beginning to settle into his bones from standing too long, and the man looks up. “You can sit on the hood of my car, if you’d like, or in one of the seats. I know standing for too long is tiring.”
“Thanks.” He perches on the hood of the car, propping his feet on the bumper. “It’s a really nice car, by the way. What year is it?”
“It’s a 1974. I found it in my father’s old car shop and decided to fix it up myself.”
Sam raises his eyebrows, nodding. “Very nice. My brother would love it. He’s got a ‘67 Impala himself.”
Castiel nods again, his attention focused on getting the tire on and tightening the lug nuts back into place. When’s he done, he carefully lowers the car back down and slides the jack out from underneath, standing and dusting off his knees. “There you go, Sam.” He places the blown tire and tools back into the trunk and shuts it. “Now you can go pick up your prescription.”
“Thank you so much,” Sam says, getting off the car and shaking Castiel’s hand again. “I really appreciate it. I don’t know how I can pay you back for this…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving it off.
“Still.” An idea comes to Sam, a small blush covering his cheeks. “Why don’t you come over for dinner? A meal in return for a replaced tire.”
A smile makes its way across the blue-eyed face, and he nods. “That sounds fair enough. Tonight?”
“Is seven o’clock all right?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I’ll see you then. Oh!” He pulls out his phone. “Let’s trade numbers so I can text you my address.”
“Oh, of course.” They exchange numbers and Sam shoots off a little Hey, it’s Sam greeting text before smiling at each other again. “Well, I’ll see you later then, I suppose.”
“Yeah. Thanks again, Castiel.”
They get into their cars and drive off, Sam turning left at the next light while Castiel continues on.
~~~
Sam’s a little nervous about the prospect of having someone over, but he feels he owes it to the guy for changing his tire for him, so he does his best to calm his nerves and makes dinner. It’s too warm for something heavy, so he makes grilled chicken sandwiches and salad with onion dressing. He considers changing his clothes for a moment but then decides against it; Castiel’s already seen him in what he’s wearing, it won’t hurt for dinner. Just as he sets the table and finishes making a pitcher of iced tea, the doorbell rings. He motions at Cin to stay and then opens the door.
Castiel also chose not to change clothes, and the realization makes Sam relax a little. “Hey, come on in,” he says, moving back for the man to step through. He shuts the door behind him and then smiles, motioning towards the kitchen. “Uh, it’s this way. And don’t mind Cinnamon, she’s a sweetheart.” To prove his point, the large dog is already nuzzling at the guest’s hand.
“Hello there, Cinnamon,” the blue-eyed man says as he scritches behind her ears. “You are a gorgeous dog.”
“I got her from a rescue pound when she was young.” Sam holds up a glass. “Tea? Water? Lemonade?”
“Could I get tea with a little lemonade in it?” He takes a seat, Cin laying down underneath the table as she usually does.
“Yeah, of course.” Sam pours him the drink and sets it in front of him. “There’s sweeteners and stuff on the table if you want some.” Castiel stirs a spoonful of honey into his drink, looking around.
“You have a very nice house.”
He laughs a little. “Thanks. I bought it a couple years ago when I moved to the area.”
“So you haven’t always lived here?”
“No, my family’s from Kansas. I moved out here after my father died.” He’d nearly cried with joy at the news of John’s death. The threat of his father’s disapproval had been the only thing tying him down to that dead town, so to have that weight lifted from his shoulders had made him feel as light as a feather. “I was looking for a new start, and I found it.”
Sam serves the food and sits at the table. Castiel’s head is tilted, blue eyes regarding the man next to him with some unclear emotion in them. “That’s very brave. You didn’t know anyone out here?”
“Well, I knew Charlie. She’s an old friend from college. She let me crash on her couch for a few weeks while I looked for a place.”
“Still. I’ve got a new level of admiration for you, Sam.” They hold gazes for just a second too long, and Castiel is the first to break away, clearing his throat. “This sandwich looks amazing.”
They eat in companionable silence, occasionally breaking the quiet with requests to pass the dressing or ask easily-answered questions. Sam learns that Castiel is the middle of nine siblings and that his family is very religious. He can’t imagine growing up with that much competition; he’d had a hard enough time gaining his father’s approval and acceptance with just Dean and himself. He also discovers the reason Cas -- as he’s started calling him in his head -- seemed so unconcerned with his pregnant status: his sister Phae had come out as trans to the family a few years back, and his other sibling Hannah identified as genderfluid.
Soon, dinner is over and Castiel insists on helping him clean up. Sam lets him, if only because it meant the other man rolled his sleeves up, revealing golden-brown, muscled arms. He’s torn for a moment between inviting Cas to stay for more conversation or letting him leave, but the decision is made for him. “I’m afraid I have to leave soon,” the blue-eyed man says. “I promised my youngest brother that I’d take him to see Logan tonight.”
“No, that’s fine, no worries.” Sam smiles, hiding the little pang of disappointment.
“This was very enjoyable, though. I’d love to have dinner with you again.”
“Me too.” An idea occurs to him as he stops with his hand on the front door. “Would you like to go to a Fourth of July picnic thing on Saturday? It’ll be at my brother’s place, barbecue for dinner and fireworks afterwards.”
“That sounds very inviting, but I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family celebration.”
“You wouldn’t be, there are always friends of the family there too. You count as a friend now, and anyways I was trying to find a date for it.” The last part was a lie -- before today he’d been planning on going alone -- but it was a leap of faith he was taking, hoping the man in front of him was as interested as he seemed.
Confusion crosses Castiel’s face. “A date? But don’t you have… someone? I mean, you’re…” He motions vaguely in the direction of Sam’s stomach.
Sam looks down, smiling a little ruefully. “No, there’s no one. In the past, yeah, but not any more.”
“Oh. Well. Then I’ll gladly come to the picnic.”
“Great.” A genuine smile plays across Sam’s lips, and it’s returned by Cas. “The picnic starts at seven-thirty -”
“So I’ll be here at seven to carpool?”
“That sounds good.”
“I’ll see you in two days, then.” Castiel hesitates, then goes in for a hug. Sam’s a little surprised but he returns it willingly. They release each other and then Cas is leaving, striding down the walkway and getting into his car. Sam watches him leave for just a little too much time, then shuts the door again and pulls out his phone. As he settles on the couch, he sends a text to Charlie reminding her about the picnic (as he’d said, family friends too). His eyes fall on a different text conversation, and for a second he hesitates, then opens it and composes a new message.
< Hey, I know you’re probably busy and can’t make it,
but the baby shower is gonna be in two weeks, July
12th. In case you want to come, since it’s your kid
too.
< I’m not mad at you, by the way, in case you’re
thinking something like that. I understand you have
other things to do.
< I’m just worried about you. Hope you’re okay.
~~~
Sam agonizes about what to wear to the barbecue, eventually deciding on his loosest pair of khaki shorts and a large navy blue t-shirt that manages to fit over his stomach. He packs the pies carefully into their carrier and then waits for Castiel to arrive. At seven-ten he almost considers sending a text to make sure Cas was still coming, but a knock at the door caught him before he could pull out his phone.
“I apologize for my tardiness,” Cas says as he stands on the front porch, covered baking pan in hand. “Phae kept interrupting me while I made these.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sam says with a smile. “It won’t take us long to get there anyways. What’s in the pan?”
“Popusa,” he answers, watching as the other man grabs the pie carrier and leaves his house, locking the door behind him. Cinnamon follows them to the gate but stays when Sam tells her to. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. I can’t cook much but this is what I’m best at.”
“You didn’t have to make anything, you know.” Sam puts the pies in the backseat of his car.
“I know, but I thought it would be more polite to bring a contribution when I’m first meeting your family.” A smile quirks up the corner of his mouth, humor lighting his eyes. “After all, I have to make a good first impression as your date.”
Getting behind the wheel, Sam blushes and laughs a little. “Fair enough.” Castiel slides into the passenger’s seat and buckles in, balancing the food on his lap. “I, uh, hope you don’t mind me calling it a date? I know it’s a little unexpected, maybe, since we don’t really know each other well…”
“Sam,” the blue-eyed man says softly, smiling. “I’m intrigued by you and I want to get to know you better and, yes, I would like to date you.”
“Thanks.” His cheeks dimple in another blushing smile and he starts the car, heading out to Dean’s house.
The elder Winchester’s residence is more like a farm than a regular house-and-yard. It’s outside the city limits, with a few acres of fields surrounding it. It’s even got a couple barns, although one of them was renovated by Dean to hold his cars. The other was turned into a party barn, basically, and that’s where Sam leads Castiel when they arrive. At least ten other cars line the long driveway, and Cas smiles. “Big family?”
“More like lots of friends,” Sam replies. “But they’re basically family, so you’re not wrong.” He walks in, relaxing visibly and smiling at the crowd of people milling around the main gathering area. An alcove off to the left has tables filled with food, and a familiar dark-haired woman is setting a tray of cookies down at the end. Sam walks over to her, Cas trailing behind. “Hey, Lisa.”
Lisa turns, a smile breaking across her face. “Sam! I’m so glad you came.” He gives her a one-armed hug before setting the pies down. “And who’s this?”
“My name is Castiel,” the man in question says. “I’m Sam’s friend. And I have popusa, where would you like me to put it?”
“Right here, there’s a spot next to the chips and dip. How long ago did you and Sam meet? He’s never mentioned you before.”
“A few days ago, actually.” Cas sets the food down and then smiles at her. “We ran into each other at the supermarket and then I rescued him from a flat tire.”
“How heroic of you.” She winks and then grins up at Sam. “I’m sure he appreciated it very much.”
“I did,” Sam says. “So I invited him to dinner, and now we’re here.”
“Well, we’re about to let everyone at the food. I think Dean’s almost here with the drinks and fireworks too. Come on, let’s get your new friend introduced to everyone else.” She grabs both of them by the hand and practically drags them out to the crowd. Sam watches Castiel through the whirl of faces and names, and is impressed with the man’s ability to maintain his witty, dry humor in the midst of overwhelming interaction. Benny, Dean’s old Army friend, jokes with him about something related to the military and gives him a hearty pat on the back. Cassie, Dean and Lisa’s girlfriend, giggles at Sam, nudging him gently and wiggling her eyebrows knowingly. He pulls a bitchface but fails to keep from blushing at her antics. Ben, Lisa’s son from a previous relationship, manages to grab Cas’ attention for a second while they talk about superheroes.
“Sam!” a voice shouts, and all he sees is a head of bright red hair coming towards him before Charlie’s there and hugging him, enthusiastically but still mindful of his bump. “So good to see you, I feel like it’s been forever.”
He laughs, a large, genuine smile on his face as he hugs her back. “I just saw you last week for D’n’D, Char.”
“That’s way too long!” She laughs with him, eyeing Cas, who’s watching the two of them now. “Will he be joining us next time?”
Sam puts an arm around Cas’ shoulders, pulling him a little closer to include him. “I dunno, are you into D’n’D, Cas?”
The man’s eyebrows raise at the nickname but he shrugs. “What’s D’n’D?”
Charlie gapes. “Sam, I don’t know that I can give my blessing on this relationship,” she jokes.
“Relationship?” Bobby Singer’s voice precedes him pushing his way out of the crowd, followed by his fianceé Ellen Harvelle. “Sam, you got something to tell me, boy?”
The Winchester’s eyes go a little wide and he hurries to make introductions. “Castiel, this is Bobby and Ellen. Bobby and Ellen, this is Castiel.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Cas shakes Bobby’s hand and then Ellen’s, sensing how important they are to Sam.
“You planning on dating our boy here?” the older woman asks, taking stock of the blue-eyed man.
“If he’ll have me, yes. We’ve only known each other a couple days, so this is a test-run.”
“Just make sure you respect him and treat him well. There’s quite a few folks who’d take offense to this good man being hurt. Again.”
Castiel nods. “I have no intention of hurting him, and I give him all my respect and care.”
“Good.”
There’s a shout from the entrance to the barn, and they all turn to see Dean and a short blond girl walk in carrying a large green cooler and a large box of fireworks. The girl sets the fireworks by the door and then rushes over to them. “You’re here!” She hugs Sam tightly.
He laughs, hugging her back and kissing the top of her head. “Yeah, of course I am. I live, like, fifteen minutes away, Jo.”
Jo rolls her eyes at him as she releases him. “I was expecting you sooner, though.”
“Well, I was bringing someone else, so I was waiting for him.”
“Someone else?” Her eyes rove the group and land on Castiel. “Wait, him? Is he your new boyfriend?”
Sam blushes for like the zillionth time as the others laugh lightly, and Cas snakes his arm around his waist reassuringly as he answers for him. “We’re considering it. I believe this is the typical ‘if you can survive meeting my family then we’re good to go’ circumstance.”
“I mean, I don’t think we’re that crazy. Are we, Sam?” Sam laughs and wraps his arm around her shoulders, but Dean comes up and answers for him.
“We’re the craziest of the crazies.” He holds his hand out to Cas to shake. “I’m Dean, Sam’s older brother.”
The blue-eyed man shakes his hand, smiling. “He’s told me about you.”
“And you’ve met everyone else?”
“Pretty much,” Sam says, teasing, “It took you long enough to get here with the drinks.”
“Hey now…”
Lisa interrupts. “Okay, enough talk, we’re all starving.” She steps back a bit and calls out, “Soup’s on!” A line quickly forms and the folding tables set up inside the barn fill up. Castiel’s popusa become the talk of the party and Lisa asks if he can teach her how to make it. Sam and Cas end up sitting at different tables, and Sam’s a little worried. But the man is smiling and laughing as he talks with Benny, Charlie, and Jo, so he relaxes a little. Hope flares in his chest.
Later, as Dean and Benny argue over the best order to set off the fireworks, Cas finds him again. He’s got a beer in one hand and the other holds a glass of lemonade, which he hands to Sam as he sips the beer. “Thanks,” Sam says with a smile.
Castiel nods. “I like your family. They remind a little of mine.”
“Maybe I can meet yours next, then?”
A wide grin splits Cas’ face. “I’d like that, Sam.”
He blushes a little and nods. “Me too.” A firework goes off then, startling both of them a little, and they look over to where Dean and Benny have apparently compromised and started lighting fuses. Cas’ arm goes around Sam’s waist again as they watch, and the tall man returns the gesture, smiling. He doesn’t notice when the man beside him turns his gaze away from the fireworks to study Sam instead, watching the way the light reflects off the planes and angles of his face. It’s only when he turns to Cas to comment on a particularly colorful burst that he notices the other’s gaze. Immediately he blushes, thankful that the darkness and the brief flashes of color mask his cheeks. “What is it?” he asks softly.
“They way the colors flash across your face…” Cas pauses, a little smile quirking up his lips. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Sam’s eyes widen a little, and then he bends down to kiss him, his hand coming up to cup his face. Cas’ eyebrows raise in surprise but he returns the kiss happily.
Charlie calls over to them, laughing. “Guys, the finale! Stop sucking face and pay attention!” Sam just flips her off in return.
~~~
Castiel starts coming over frequently, at least every other day. Sam is introduced to his family, the Novak-Almeidas, which is large and mostly functional (the only sibling he doesn’t meet is Lucifer, whom he is told is in a correctional facility somewhere). He starts preparing for the baby shower and watching as the items on his registry are checked off one by one. He leaves some things off to buy later, such as a double stroller and baby monitor, and Charlie makes a note in the baby shower group chat: “In the spirit of gender neutrality, red is for health, blue is for mana, and yellow is for stamina!” Sam laughs when he sees it.
The day before the baby shower, Castiel comes over with some painting supplies, a huge smile on his face as Sam answers the door. “Hello, Sam,” he say, setting the supplies down in the front hall. “I know you’ve been meaning to paint the baby’s room, so I decided to come help you do it. I was thinking maybe a mural on the wall away from the window?”
“That’s a great idea, Cas,” he answers, a little surprised. “What kind of mural?”
“I was thinking trees and a river, maybe some animals. And I got glow in the dark paint so we could do constellations on the ceiling.” Sam’s just looking at him in awe and he shifts a little nervously. “What is it?”
“You’re amazing.” Sam pulls him into a kiss and Cas laughs into it a little.
Eventually, they get all the supplies into the large, empty bedroom. The walls are bare and white, which Castiel comments is good so they don’t have to repaint the walls themselves to get a good base. They start painting together but Sam quickly realizes Cas has him out-matched in that skill so he ends up sitting against one of the other walls, watching. Cinnamon comes and lays next to him, her head in his lap as his fingers run through her short fur. His phone goes off, a text message notification, and from the default tone he guesses it’s his job (since all his friends have a custom tone). He’s prepared to tell his boss no, he can’t work the bookstore tomorrow, but then he realizes the text isn’t from his boss. Head tilting, he opens the message.
> I’m sorry, Sam.
Sam frowns and texts a quick reply.
< Sorry for leaving? I’ve already forgiven you for that.
< Sorry for what? Don’t leave me hanging, Dree, not again. Please.
“Everything okay?” Castiel asks, which makes Sam look up from his phone.
“Oh, um, yeah.” He shoves the phone back into his pocket. “I just got a weird message. Nothing important.”
“Okay.” Cas sets the paint brush down and steps back. “What do you think?”
“It’s fantastic. You are really good at painting.” He goes to stand and the other man moves over to help him up, Cinnamon doing her best to assist too. “You’ve never told me what you do for a living. Are you an artist?”
Cas chuckles a little. “Only in my free time. I’m actually a doctor.”
“Oh, wow. That’s really cool.” He lets Cas lead him to the couch and sit him down, a yawn leaving him as he sinks into the soft cushions.
“Looks like it’s time I took my leave.”
“I would invite you to stay, but the couch won’t hold two, so.”
“I’d love to but-- wait, the couch? Don’t you sleep in your bed?”
Sam shakes his head, motioning to the ladder that leads up to his open balcony bedroom. “My ankles swell too much for me to get up and down comfortably now.”
“So you’ve been sleeping on the couch.” Affirmative nod. “Sam, do you even realize how bad that is for your back? Especially pregnant?”
“I put support where I need it, I’m not stupid.”
Cas sighs. “I know, I know you’re not. Just… let me get you a pull-out couch, or something? Maybe I can pull your mattress down for you so you can sleep on it instead?”
A soft smile crosses Sam’s face. “It would be nice to sleep on an actual mattress again. If you insist, I’ll allow you to bring my mattress down. As long as you’re careful, that mattress isn’t light.”
“I’ll be careful.” He leans down and kisses Sam’s forehead, then climbs up the ladder and starts getting the mattress off. Ten minutes later, it’s on the floor of the living room, sheets and blankets and pillows piled on top of it. Castiel climbs back down and puts the sheets on the mattress. “There,” he says when he’s finished. “Now you have something far more comfortable to sleep on. But I’m still gonna find you a pull-out couch or something.”
“That’s really not-”
“You’re going to need it anyway, when the baby arrives. You can’t honestly tell me you’re going to want to climb and down the ladder every time they cry at night.”
“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” He stands, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, Castiel. I really appreciate it.”
The shorter man smiles into his shoulder, hugging back. “You’re very welcome, Sam. I’ll always be here to help when you need it.” He pulls back. “Although I should be going now. It’s getting late and you have a big day tomorrow.” He turns, heading for the front door.
“You could stay.” There’s silence and Cas’ shoulders seem to tense, so Sam is hesitant as he continues. “I mean, if you want. Now that the mattress is down here, there’s room.”
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea. Not right now anyways.” Cas puts on his coat and turns to Sam, who’s followed him to the door. “Thank you, though. I would love to, but not tonight.”
Sam nods. “Okay. Good night, then. Drive safe.”
“Good night, Sam.” Then Cas walks out the door and Sam locks it behind him, leaning his forehead against it. What was that about? Had he been reading all the signals wrong? He had thought the blue-eyed man was interested in him romantically, but now he’s not sure. With a sigh, he pushes off the door and gets ready for bed, smiling when he comes back to the mattress and finds Cinnamon curled up in the middle of the blankets.
For a while he just lays there, one hand on his dog’s warm side, and stares at the ceiling. Eventually he dozes off, and he’s asleep by the time his phone lights up, showing a call from Dree.
~~~
In the morning, Sam’s surprised by the missed call, but puts it out of his mind as he begins preparing for the baby shower. He’ll deal with the past after he’s done celebrating the future.
Soon people are knocking on his front door and the small house is filled with laughter and voices. Lisa takes over, grouping the presents in the living room, and then Cassie arrives with the cake he’d ordered from the bakery. It’s covered, keeping a secret for Sam, and he has her set it on the table. Before he knows it, the cover to the container is being lifted and he’s handed a knife as a pair of round cakes, decorated simply with lettering that says “twin one” and “twin two”, are revealed.
There’s a moment of silent shock, and then everyone’s cheering and squealing in delight. He’s hugged on every side, carefully of course, and then Dean comes up, grinning from ear to ear. “How the hell did you manage this, Sammy?” he asks as he hugs his brother.
“I was on fertility supplements.” Castiel, who had stood to one side as Sam was bombarded with hugs, tilts his head as he hears the man’s answer.
“Oh. Huh.” Dean pulls back from the hug, still grinning. “Well, I am very happy for you, Sam, I really am. Can’t wait to see your two little tykes running around.”
“It’ll be a while before they’ll be running.”
“But if they’re anything like you, they’ll be crawling faster than you can chase them by the time they’re six months old.” They laugh, and then the cake is cut and served and Sam sits on the couch as everyone presents him with the items from his registry.
The gifts slowly pile up, each item checked off the list -- Dean, Lisa, and Cassie had of course gone overboard, even though he’d told them not to. As Sam unwrapped each gift, he kept a list in his mind of the things he'd still need before the babies arrived.
Soon everyone was leaving, saying their goodbyes and making him promise to call if he needed anything. Everyone but Cas, that is. He hung back from the crowd as they left, fidgeting with the black ring around the middle finger of his right hand. Sam shut the door on Dean and Lisa, who were glancing significantly between him and Cas and chuckling, and then turned to him. Silence reigned. Then…
“So are you-”
“Sam, I wanted to-” They both stop speaking, laughing a little, and then Sam motions for Cas to speak first. “I wanted to apologize for any confusion I caused last night.”
Sam nods as he sits on the couch, groaning a little as his body relaxes into it. “I was a little confused, yeah. I thought you were into me, but.” He shrugs. “It's okay if you decided you're not. I know getting in a relationship with a pregnant dude has a long list of things that could go very wrong.”
Cas shakes his head, sitting down next to Sam and angling himself so he can still look him in the eye. “No, my hesitation has not been because of you or your soon-to-be children. It was purely my own struggle to find the courage to tell you that I'm asexual. I was afraid that saying that would change the way you feel for me.”
A tiny smile forms on Sam's face and he chuckles, looking down and placing a hand on his stomach. “You know, despite all this-” he runs his hand over his stomach, looking back up at Cas. “Would you believe me if I said I was ace too? Well, demi, technically, but-” Loud vibrations interrupt him, and he frowns as he looks down at his phone on the table. “I'm so sorry, I don't know…” He picks up the phone to ignore the call.
“No, answer it, it might be important,” Cas says, leaning back into the couch.
Sam bites his lip in thought, then answers it. “Hello? Yes, this is him. Yes, he was… I knew him, yes. Oh… No, he wouldn't…” Cas leans forward, frowning at the tears that have suddenly filled the man's eyes. “I don't understand… Well yes, I understand that part, but… Right. Will I need to come down there? Okay…” He's reaching blindly for Cas, and Cas takes his hand in both of his, blue eyes full of concern. “Yes, I understand. Thank you for making the call. I will be there. Good bye.” He hangs up, staring at the phone screen.
Cas lets him sit for a moment, but once the screen goes dark, he says, “Sam?”
“I…” Sam sniffles and squeezes Cas’ hand. “I'm sorry, that… that was a lawyer, calling on behalf of Gadreel. My ex fiancé.”
“Okay. What did he want?”
“Apparently Ga-” A sob rips its way out of his throat and Sam lists to the side, Cas quickly moving to wrap his arms around the man and cradle him against his chest.
“Shh, shh shh. It's okay, Sam. Take as much time as you need. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.”
“Dree… Dree k-killed… himself.” The air rushes from Cas’ lungs when he hears this, sadness enveloping him though he hadn't known Gadreel; the sadness was more for Sam, that he'd have to go through something like this.
“I'm so sorry, Sam.” He rubs his back in small circles, his other hand cupping the back of Sam's neck, face pressed into the hollow of Cas’ throat. “They need you to come in and sign for the contents of a will, I'm assuming?”
Sam nods, body shuddering. “The will said… I could have whatever I wanted… from his apartment. And that there were a few specific items set aside for me.”
“I will be more than happy to go with you, if you need me.”
“I would… I would appreciate that, Cas. Please.”
Cas gently kisses the top of Sam's head. “Gladly. Now, to bed. It's been a long day.” He helps him stand and leads him to the bathroom, moving through the motions of preparing for bed. A night gown (Sam manages to blush when admitting he wears a dress to bed, but Cas kisses his red-tinted cheek and doesn't say a word), teeth brushed, vitamins taken, a glass of water. Then Cas lowers him onto the mattress in the living room, sitting by him.
“Cas?” Blue eyes catch hazel, and he swallows, a spike of anxiety zinging through him. “Will you stay, tonight? Please?”
A soft smile graces Cas’ face. “Yes, Sam. I won't leave you tonight.” Quickly, he strips to his boxers and t-shirt, laying down and arranging them so that Sam has support where he needs it and can lay his head on his chest. Cas runs his fingers through Sam's hair, waiting for the younger man's breathing to even out before letting his own eyes close.
~~~
Sam walks into Gadreel’s apartment slowly, breathing in the air that had once been as familiar as home to him. His hand runs along the table by the door, grief twisting his face as he realizes nothing has been moved: the man’s wallet, keys, and spare change were there, haphazardly thrown as always, next to old receipts for take-out and gas, and fliers from the apartment office. Cas moves quickly to his side, wrapping his arm around his waist so Sam can lean on him if he needs to.
They move slowly but determinately through the rooms, only grabbing a few, very specific things. The cast iron skillet Sam had brought over and forgotten; a hoodie Dree had borrowed and worn every day under his leather jacket; the leather jacket; a worn, dog-eared copy of Good Omens; a framed picture of Sam and Dree, with Cinnamon in between them, at the state fair the year before.
Cas helps Sam put all these things into a duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder and straightening, as if to protect Sam, somehow, as the lawyer walks in with a clipboard of papers to sign. A small sigh escapes Sam before he takes the offered pen and signs, pausing when he reaches the amount of money being transferred to his account. “He… he left me all of it?”
The lawyer nods, a soft look of pity and sympathy on her face. “Yes. He said in his will that he knew he should support his child, therefore all his remaining funds were to be transferred to you to make you and the child as comfortable as possible.” She watches as Sam’s hand shakes a little as he signs the rest of the paperwork, then takes the clipboard back. “There is one additional thing that he left to you, besides the money and whatever you found here. It will be delivered to your house for you, but I thought you’d like to see it yourself first.”
Confused, Sam nods, and the lawyer leads him and Cas down to the garage space associated with the apartment. Gadreel’s bike leans against the wall by the door, the rest of the space taken up by his wood-working tools and bench. Sam’s heart clenches and he gasps: a large wooden crib takes up all the space in the center of the garage. Slowly, he steps closer, admiring the handiwork and design. It’s a light wood, birch most likely, he thinks as he runs his hand over it, and lacquered so that it will be safe if the babies decide to chew on it. “It’s beautiful.” Cas’ voice jolts him a little and he nods as he looks at the blue-eyed man standing beside him, still supporting him.
“We’ve hired movers to bring it to your apartment, Mr. Winchester,” the lawyer says quietly. “It should be there today or tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
On the drive home, Sam is quiet, holding the picture of himself and Dree as Cas drives. “Cas, I…” He pauses and Cas waits, letting him speak when he can. “I loved him. Hell, we were engaged. It’s why I was on fertility supplements, we were going to get married and have a kid and live the life we’d dreamed of. Then, one day he just… left. Disappeared from my place, didn’t show up at his own, didn’t hear from him for a week. He never told me everything that happened, but… I pieced together that he’d been fired for a minor mistake and his dad had given him an earful for it. There was more to it than that for sure, but it all had the same effect. He fell back into the spiral of anxiety and depression that he’d spent years fighting when I met him. I tried to help when he told me, but he said I had enough to worry about. He just… ghosted. Told me to take the ring off and find someone new and then disappeared.
“Until the day you came over to paint. He sent a text that just said he was sorry. I asked him for what but he never replied. Last night…” A soft sob escapes him. “Last night he tried to call. I saw the missed call this morning but didn’t think anything of it. If I had… if I had just stayed up later… I might have… might have been able… to…”
“Sam.” Cas’ tone is firm but gentle, pitched low to soothe. “You’ll kill yourself with what ifs. Gadreel made his choices. It sucks that you’re suffering because of some of the choices he made, but there’s nothing you can do about that but figure out how you’re going to handle your reactions.” He reaches over and takes Sam’s hand, squeezing it gently. “He wanted the best for you, it’s clear enough from the will, so take care of yourself and the babies. Live fully, and love. He’s not here any more but he lives on in your heart and your children, and he’s left you things that you can remember him by. It’s shitty how he went, and it’ll hurt for a long time. But you have support, you have hope, you have love. Do what he could or would not. Reach out. There are plenty who’ll give you a hand.”
There is no response from Sam until they arrive at his house and go inside, Sam situated on the couch with Cinnamon beside him and her head in his lap. “Cas.”
“Yes, Sam?”
“Thank you.” Cas looks over from where he’s placing Good Omens on Sam’s bookcase. “I’m not very good at talking about my own emotions, I mean I can help others parse their own but I can’t seem to… I’m just trying to say… thank you. More than that, so much more, I can’t… can’t ever thank you enough…” They lock eyes and Cas can see the sincerity, understands what Sam is trying to say.
“You’re welcome, Sam. Truly. From the bottom of my heart.” In turn, Sam can see everything Cas is saying between the lines.
“Look, I… I’d like to try, with you. A relationship, I mean. I realize we haven’t known each other long, but I like you and I want to see where this can go. I see a lot of potential, if that makes sense.”
Cas chuckles and sits down on Sam’s other side so he doesn’t disturb Cin. “I want that too. I realized that me being ace doesn’t affect any feelings I have for you, nor any feelings you have for me. With that fear gone, I have no more hesitation. I’m interested in you, Sam, and I want to see where you can take me.” A smile breaks out over Sam’s face, a true, genuine smile, and he pulls Cas into a kiss, soft but passionate.
~~~
They lay together on the mattress again that night, facing each other this time. They talk quietly of sex: what feels good, what each is okay with, if it’s even feasible with Sam’s pregnant state. Then there’s the soft slip of Cas’ calloused hand up Sam’s thigh, pushing under the nightgown to explore the damp heat between his legs. A soft moan is drawn from his lips as fingers brush through the curls there, Sam’s own hands stripping Cas of his t-shirt and boxers. Lips meet in quiet ecstasy, one set of fingers buried in silky warm wet, another set wrapped lazily around a cock. Together, they bring each other off, shuddering, whimpering, moaning life and love into the other.
~~~
“Alright, Sam, the baby has crowned, now push!” Cassie’s calm, firm voice directs him, and he squeezes both Cas and Dean’s hands as he grunts and pushes. Lisa stands beside Cassie at the foot of the hospital bed, a blanket and the necessary tools at the ready. It’s a blessing, really, that the hospital allowed Sam to choose Cassie as his nurse-midwife (she hadn’t spent all those years getting certified not to end up helping her family) and that Lisa was allowed to assist. Being surrounded by family was encouraging, especially given his status as a pregnant trans man.
A loud baby’s cry splits the air, and the next thing he knows, Sam’s looking into the face of his first child as Lisa holds the baby up to him. “They’re beautiful,” she says, smiling, and he nods. Then Cassie reminds him he’s got one more to go and he pushes again, groaning with the effort. Cas whispers soft words of encouragement to him, not seeming to mind as Sam squeezes the shit out of his hand.
Before too long, both babies are in the world, cleaned and swaddled and placed in the crooks of Sam’s arms. He admires them, pure joy on his face. Dean breaks the reverent silence: “You know, this makes three babies I’ve seen pushed into this world, and I gotta say, people look like such weird pink raisins when we start out, it’s a wonder we’re the primary species.” A short laugh leaves Sam and he grins up at his brother.
“You’re right, Dean.”
Cas leans over to kiss Sam’s temple, his blue eyes as wide as his smile as he wonders over the little bundles. “What are you going to name them, Sam?”
Sam is silent for only a moment. “This one is Eden Ash,” he says, indicating the first-born. “And this one is Phoenix Rowan.” He looks up at Cas, then. “Do you want to hold them, babe?”
His eyebrows practically disappear into his hairline, but Cas nods and sits on the edge of the bed, not trusting his legs as he holds out his arms. Sam carefully hands him the babies, and Cas holds them close to his chest, smiling even wider, if possible, at seeing them so close. “Hello, Phoenix. Hello, Eden. Welcome to Earth.”
~~~
The phone is ringing, Phoenix has just knocked their bowl of Cheerios onto the floor, Eden is crying with teething pain, and Cin is barking at the front door as the mailman does his job, but Sam has never felt more happy in his life. Why? Because presiding over all the chaos is Cas, calmly and patiently wading through the mess. Sam checks the phone, choosing to ignore the unknown number calling as he watches: Cas hands Eden a chilled teething toy, sweeps up the Cheerios and trashes them before sitting in front of Phoenix with a bowl of mushed bananas and oatmeal and calling Cin over to placate her with a bit of peanut butter.
With a chuckle, Sam leans down and wraps his arms around Cas’ neck, kissing his cheek. “You’re so hot when you multi-task, angel.”
Cas manages an eye-roll, airplaning the banana oatmeal into Phoenix’s mouth. “Thanks. Aren’t you going to be late to work? I know the bookstore has later hours on the weekend but it’s almost eight-thirty.”
“I know what time it is, I just wanted to make sure you know how much I appreciate you.” Sam moves to kneel beside Cas’ chair, pulling out a box as the other man is occupied feeding the babies.
“Sam, I do know, I assure you-” He glances over to smile at Sam and that’s when he notices the box. “Oh.”
“Cas, will you marry me? There’s no one else I’d rather have at my side as I go through life, and there’s no one else who can handle the chaos and mess of this life quite like you can.” Sam grins, a hint of nervousness in his eyes, quelled immediately by Cas’ own mirroring grin.
“Of course, Sam. It would be my honor to be by your side in the chaos.” Sam leans up to kiss him deeply, ignoring the babies’ garbling for a moment before Cas pulls away. “But you really need to get to work.”
Wincest prompt: AU in which 17 years old Sam is a transgender man and Dean and him are dating. Dean is very supportive, makes extra money to buy him binders, always has a few pads with him in case Sam forgot to take some, and fights off anyone who gives him shit. Sam feels insecure because he's scared Dean might only be dating him because he hasn't fully transitioned and although he likes his petite and feminine figure, he wants to be seen as a guy. A feminine guy, but a guy nonetheless. Dean comforts him and tell him he is in love with him, not his vagina.
