NOTES:

This was originally posted on AO3 and I'll probably be continuing it as a series on there, so head on over there if you're interesting in following via your AO3 account. Also, to anyone who's read my When Fireflies Die work, please know that I'm so sorry I haven't updated since November, I promise you I'm still working on it but since I'm going to Japan for three weeks it's not going to be soon.

Anyway, please enjoy!

You and Me, Plus One

Dean can hear his Alpha shouting long before he reaches the front door and it immediately sets him on edge. There is something deeply primal about his reaction, the way his body shudders and his shoulders curl ever-so-slightly in, his submissive posture. Nevertheless, his hesitancy to touch the front door handle does not prevent him from entering his home.

Arms laden by grocery items, he strides down the hall, Cas' barking shouts getting louder with every step.

"I'm telling you," he hears his mate and husband yelling frustratedly to someone Dean cannot yet see. "It doesn't go there!"

He rounds the corner to find three Alpha's all hovering in his kitchen, each wearing a variation of irritation across their face.

"Cas?" He tries tentatively, entering the room with a twinge of nervousness.

Three sets of eyes land on him, none missing the submissive way Dean composes himself.

"Dean…" Cas breathes, schooling his anger, a shudder of relief rippling through him as Dean's familiar scent hits him like an ocean breeze. Noticing the bags in his arms, his worrywart Alpha immediately seizes them, chastising him for not leaving them in the car for Sam to get.

Dean's eyes flicker over to said brother and Alpha, who rests on the table in the far corner of the room with a beer in hand looking pretty nonplussed by the shebang ensuing in front of him.

"Well, I think it does go there!" John huffs, turning the conversation back the not-yet complied cot, sitting front and center in the room. The oldest Alpha holds the instruction manual in his hands and is frowning, brows knitted together in concentration.

"You're wrong," Cas bites back, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. "The instructions clearly say that THIS screw goes there, not that one!"

Cas turns his back on John, who has bristled at the comment, and starts putting groceries away while Dean scowls at the unassembled wooden structure. He kind of wanted to put the cot together himself, just him and Cas―he was nesting after all―but he held his tongue and didn't voice this aloud, not wanting to be the source of any more animosity. He can clearly see why Sam's sitting in the corner now, unobtrusive, refusing to let himself be pulled into the ridiculousness of the situation. Honestly, two grown men unable to put a baby cot together. Dean's almost sure that if Sam had been in charge while he'd been out, the thing would already be put together―his little brother is smart that way.

"Cas," he protests, picking up a block of butter and helping to put the shopping away. "I'm barely three months pregnant, you need to chill."

Sam snorts and Dean shoots him a rather venomous glare, effectively silencing him. Sam may be an Alpha, but Dean is older, pack dynamics depicting that Dean is above him in the meal order, not that Sam seems to mind. If Sam did actually care, Dean knows he would've been shoved from his rank long ago because Omega's tended to sit at the bottom of the food chain; he wouldn't have put up a fight if Sam had wanted to climb the ladder and be above him in the pecking order, but Sam apparently has no interest in this, or so he's learned.

Cas frowns at Dean's comment, pausing in the stashing of broccoli.

"I just want to give our baby the best chance, Dean, and I don't want you to want for anything either."

Under Cas' stare he shifts uncomfortably, highly aware of both his brother and father also being in the room. He just hopes Cas doesn't say anything too sappy or embarrassing.

"I get that," he sighs, putting canned soup away in the upper shelf of the pantry. "But it's not like I'm gonna bust this kid out tomorrow, 'kay. So just… chill with all this―" he gestures toward the cot "―alright? It's stressing me out."

Cas raises an eyebrow at this, obviously unaware and annoyed that he has been unaware of Dean's stress.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, striding over and pulling Dean close to him. "I shouldn't be making you anxious…"

"It's fine, Cas," he says pushing out of the embrace before Cas can get too comfortable. "Just leave the cot though, for today at least."

"Alright," Cas agrees, body language and change of scent telling Dean that he's shocked and concerned about the rejection of his hug.

"Well," John interjects, standing. "If this thing isn't getting finished today, I s'pose we can go home then."

Suddenly, Dean feels guilty.

"Yeah, sorry Dad, I…" He trails off, unexpectedly unable to come up with a good excuse as to why he's subtlety pushing his family out of his house. He's just tired and exhausted by the constant barrage of people that always want to "help". Just because he's pregnant, doesn't mean he's an invalid and that's how people seem to be treating him these days, like he's got some terminal illness.

Sam puts his empty beer on the table and strides over, clapping his brother into a brief hug as he says his goodbyes. Sam knows. Dean can tell that Sam knows he wants to be left alone, he's always been good at reading people like that, probably why he became a lawyer, though Dean reckons he should be a judge. Sam also knows that the first person Dean will reach out to besides Cas is him, so he's not worried about not being part of Dean's baby's life. His father on the other hand is less pacified.

John emulates the same brief hug that Dean shared with Sam, telling Dean to call if he needs help with anything or if he needs someone with an actual head attached to his shoulders, a harmless dig at Cas. John's a mechanic―so is Dean when he's not pregnant―the difference is that John thinks that just because he can pull apart one complicated thing and put it back together, he can pull apart anything and put it back together, but Dean knows from the half dismantled pianola sitting in his Dad's living room that this just isn't the case―it's been sitting in pieces for the last four years now.

"Yeah, yeah," he brushes his dad's comment off with a small smile. "If I need ya, I'll call."

"Good." John huffs, returning the fond, familiar smile before turning on his heel and following Sam out the kitchen and down the hall.

Dean and Cas follow the pair to the front door and wave their goodbyes as they descend the porch steps and make their way to Sam's crappy truck he bought in college.

The door closes as the truck rumbles to life, and suddenly Dean finds a pair of arms snaked around his waist.

Cas smells strongly, the worried scent hitting Dean's nostrils and guilting him again. Cas doesn't like to be pushed away. Physical contact is his way of making sure things are okay between them and he hates it when Dean pulls away from him, doubt creeps in and clouds his mind with concern, worried that he's done something to hurt or annoy his mate.

Dean twists around in his arms, but doesn't pull away.

"Hey." Cas greets, anxiety in his clear, blue eyes, voice cracking a little.

"Hey." Dean returns, allowing a little smile to form on his features before he nestles his face into Cas' shoulder.

He can almost hear the sigh of relief Cas lets out, arms squeezing him tighter as Dean's arms raise to pull Cas to him as well.

"Sorry," Dean apologises out of the blue. "I'm taking all my stress out on you."

Cas' hand reaches up and slides through his golden-brown hair lovingly.

"I don't blame you, Dean. I'll be right here if you need me, I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," comes the reply. "But I'm sorry anyway. I'm just sick of people constantly hanging around, their niggling, their little bits of advice on how to raise our baby, their offer to help if we need. It's exhausting Cas and I don't want the world to know everything about our baby before she's even born."

"She?" Cas raises an eyebrow and pulls his face back a little so he can meet Dean's sheepish smile.

"I guess I got caught up in thinking it'll be a girl…"

Cas nuzzles his mate again, gently rocking together, swaying them side to side as though they are slow dancing but without any music.

"A girl would be nice…" he murmurs, gently planting kisses along Dean's neck and jaw. "But I wouldn't care if it's a boy either."

"Y'know we're gonna have to start thinking about names soon."

"I thought we already decided the girl name was going to be Mary, after your mom."

"Yeah, but if it's a boy?"

"…Chuck?" Cas muses as Dean draws back and pulls a face.

"After your dad? No thanks. I don't like the name Chuck anyhow, it reminds me of those cleaning wipes."

Cas merely shrugs, nestling his head against Dean's shoulder again.

"We can think about it later…"

Dean smiles at that and runs his hands over Cas' back.

"Yeah, I guess we can."