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“Doesn’t our Omega look delightful right now,
a ghrá
?” Mick Davies asked, licking his lips as he looked down hungrily.
“He sure does, Mick,” Arthur Ketch replied, trailing his fingers down Mick’s arms before lifting one hand up in order to turn Mick’s head.
The two Alphas kissed softly and Dean Winchester groaned, sitting up to join in on the kissing, but a firm hand from ketch pushed the Omega back down onto the bed. Dean huffed, but enjoyed the show as Ketch’s hand then wrapped around the expanse of Mick’s throat.
“
A ghrá,
” Mick chided softly. “We’re supposed to be mating our Omega, not fucking each other.”
Ketch simply smirked. “I know, darling,” he murmured. “But I thought that this might give him a preview of what’s to come in the future.”
Mick tilted his head back and Dean admired the way that Ketch’s hand fit across his throat. Ketch’s cross tattoo seemed to move as Ketch adjusted his grip.
“You’re beautiful like this,” Ketch murmured.
Mick smirked. “Think of how stunning Dean’s going to look with your hand around his throat while he’s on your cock,” he said.
Both Ketch and Dean groaned at that thought. Dean then rocked his hips in invitation. “Alphas, please.”
He didn’t care which one of them mated him first- Mick or Ketch. They were both
his,
and they had waited months, if not a year, for them to have the approval for the three-way mating. It had all built up to this very moment and the two Alphas were taking their goddamn sweet time.
It’s not that they weren’t currently aroused- not when Ketch’s scent of tobacco and whiskey mingled with Mick’s scent of dark chocolate and orange and those scents intertwined with Dean’s own scent of apple pie and vanilla ice cream in the air and Mick at the very least had a pearl of precum decorating the tip of his dick.
No. they were just
dicks
who wanted to
tease.
“He sounds so pretty when he asks for us,” Ketch smirked. “What do you think we should do to him first, Mick?”
“Hmmm,” Mick hummed as he looked over Dean hungrily. “I’m not sure, there’s so many options.”
“You could fuck me,” Dean said.
Mick’s smile was mischievous, while Ketch’s was downright predatory as they looked at him. “Well,
that’s
the obvious statement,” Ketch said as Mick licked his lips. “Just because you’re getting two knots doesn’t mean you get to be greedy, poppet.”
Dean groaned. “You two are going to be the death of me, I swear,” he said.
“
A chuisle,
” Mick said tenderly. “You’re going to be fine.”
Ketch chuckled. “And would it be such a bad thing if we killed you with a night full of pleasure?” he asked.
“No, but I’m
horny,
” Dean said. “We’ve waited pretty much a goddamn year for this very moment, and the two of you insist on dragging it out.”
Ketch chuckled and gave a shrug. “We want to savor this moment, poppet,” he said. “Is that such a bad thing? We’re never going to
mate
you again.”
Mick turned his head to look at his Alpha partner. “
A ghrá,
that was almost sweet,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. His accent was becoming thicker, deeper, and Dean shivered.
Ketch chuckled. “Darling, you
know
that I can be sweet,” he said, letting his fingers dance over Mick’s throat and collarbones.
Dean gave a whine, and instantly, Mick’s hands were on his chest, soothing him. Dean gave a sigh and relaxed, closing his eyes as he just let the pads of his Alpha’s fingers dance over his skin.
“Please,” he whispered.
“I know,” Mick murmured. “You’re eager, you need it. If we’re not careful, we’ll kick start your heat.”
“I’d like to mate
before
that happens,” Dean groaned, shivering. “Want to remember it.”
“We want you to remember it, too,” Mick said, letting his fingers dance over Dean’s treasure trail, gently tugging at the hairs.
“Let’s get a move on, then!” Dean groaned again, rocking his hips into Mick’s teasing touches.
Mick turned and looked back at Ketch. Ketch smirked and rubbed his hands down Mick’s arms.
“Darling, you can be the first to mate him,” he murmured softly, his own accent becoming thick with arousal.
“Hedonist,” Mick said affectionately. “You just want to watch before you ravage him like some kind of possessed man.”
Ketch’s eyes lit up and he grinned lewdly. “How well you know me, Mick,” he purred. “I am a hedonist and I can’t wait to watch you fuck him and lay your claim on him. It’s only going to drive up
my
arousal, after all.”
Mick sighed and affectionately rolled his eyes. “You are a wicked, wicked man, Arthur Ketch,” he said.
Dean watched, tucking his hands up and behind his head as he watched his two Alphas. Mick’s hands were now resting on his thighs and he watched as Ketch drew Mick in for a sweet, slow kiss that made Dean’s heart skip a beat.
When they broke, Ketch withdrew from behind Mick and slapped his ass. “Get to it,” Ketch said gruffly, and Dean wet his lips as a gush of slick came out from the roughness in his voice.
Mick yipped from the slap and reached behind him to rub his rear, pouting up at Ketch. Ketch just gave a smirk and a raised brow in response before retreating to the armchair in their room.
Rolling his eyes, Mick turned back to Dean and smiled down at him. “
A chuisle,
” he cooed softly, leaning over Dean and pulling him into a kiss.
Dean moaned, wrapping his arms around Mick’s neck as the Alpha kissed him deeply. There were faint traces of the coffee that Mick had earlier and the Bailey’s that he had spiked the coffee with, and Dean dived in, his body begging for more.
Mick’s hips dropped down onto his and began rolling against them, and Dean stiffened, then moaned as Mick’s cock ground against his.
Mick murmured something in Irish against Dean’s lips and he let out an embarrassing whimper as more slick gushed out from between his legs.
“Shhh,
a chuisle,
” Mick murmured as he moved a hand down and in between Dean’s legs. He pressed two fingers into Dean’s hole and he whined.
“Alpha!” he whimpered. “Fuck me, mate me, please.”
“Such an eager little Omega,” Mick whispered. “Fuck, you’re dripping onto my hand. Just relax for me, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
“Your fingers are not fucking me,” Dean almost growled as he rocked his hips into Mick’s hand. “It’s not your knot.”
Mick chuckled darkly, murmuring an endearment- or maybe a curse- in Irish. As usual, the sound went straight through Dean and his cock throbbed
hard
against Mick’s. “Have a little patience, I’m not going to hurt you our first time together- or your first time period.”
Dean groaned and he rocked his hips eagerly into Mick’s seeking fingers. “I get that, but for fuck’s sake, Mick, just stick it in!”
“So noisy, so responsive,” Mick murmured, still not letting up on his fingers stroking Dean’s inner walls.
“Demanding, too,” Ketch noted with a smirk in his tone. Dean turned his head to see that Ketch had his cock in his hand and was slowly stroking it in time to what he was visualizing. Dean’s eyes fixated on that cross tattoo and watched as his hand went up, twisted at the head, then slowly went back down and gave a firm squeeze at the forming knot at the base.
That was, until Mick had found his prostate and pressed firmly down on that. Dean whined in need and rocked his hips even more forcefully into Mick.
“There we go, found your sweet spot, didn’t I?” Mick purred softly. “And now you can focus on me,
a chuisle
. Don’t be begging for treats from others. Besides, he’ll be inside of you soon enough.”
Dean turned his head to look back into Mick’s hungry eyes. Dean licked his lips and Mick growled before leaning down and biting on his collarbone
hard.
“Not where it’s supposed to go,” Dean whined weakly, turning into putty under Mick’s gentle hands.
“Oh, I know,” Mick chuckled against his skin, slipping a third finger and spreading them inside of Dean. “Fuck, you’re soaked. I bet I could just slide right in right now, can’t I? Our perfect little Omega, so wet and ready for us.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to get you to do, dance with pina coladas in the rain?” Dean growled. It was meant to be threatening. It sounded more needy than anything.
Mick laughed softly, kissing the hickey that he had left before lifting his head up and giving a feral grin at Dean. His eyes had started to turn into a reddish tint, highlighting his arousal. Dean felt the urge to tilt his head back in submission and he complied with that urge, tilting his chin up and his head back and to the side, exposing his scent gland.
“Perfect,” Mick groaned, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss against his scent gland. He removed his fingers and sat back on his haunches. Dean could see in the low light of the room that his hand was covered in slick. Locking eyes with Dean, Mick waggled his brows and licked a line from the bottom of his wrist to the tip of his pinky finger, never taking his eyes off of Dean.
Ketch groaned from the corner where he was jerking off. “Fuck, darlin’, you make me want to fuck you right now,” he growled.
Mick turned a coy look to the other Alpha and extended his hand over to Ketch, but Ketch shook his head. “No, darlin’, I’ll wait until I can taste the both of you together.”
Dean and Mick shivered at that idea and Mick grabbed the backs of Dean’s thighs. Dean couldn’t ask what was happening next before he felt like he was being folded in half as Mick pushed his legs up and over his head, exposing his messy hole.
“Fuck, I could spend hours just laying here eating you out,
a chuisle,
” Mick groaned. “I might just do that one day, actually. But not today.”
“And you call me the hedonist,” Ketch said affectionately.
Mick shrugged. “I’ve got my vices,” he said, starting to press his cock into Dean without any warning.
Dean was a virgin. He’s used fake knots before, using them during his heats and pretending that it was flesh and blood, that it was an actual Alpha behind him, pumping him full of actual cum instead of the artificial stuff he’s used before. He still couldn’t anticipate, however, the way that Mick pressed into him without a second thought, the way he felt- thick and full and ready to pump Dean full to secure their mating- made his eyes roll into the back of his head and give an embarrassingly loud keen as Mick continued to press in.
“So fuckin’ tight, and yet he
wants
me,” Mick moaned. “I can feel him sucking me in. Drawing me in deeper.” He draped himself over Dean’s legs and looked down at the Omega underneath of him. “Are you alright?”
“If you don’t start fucking me
very fucking soon
,” Dean warned, “I’m going to flip us over and take what I need.”
Mick’s eyes lit up in challenge, and Dean had the feeling that he wasn’t going to be walking straight tomorrow as Mick slowly withdrew- only to suddenly slam back into Dean.
The headboard rocked against the wall as Dean let out a cry of pleasure, shuddering from the sensation. Mick grinned and did it again, pulling out a little faster this time before thrusting harshly back into Dean.
Dean whimpered and whined as he rocked his hips the best he could as Mick fucked him as if his life depended on it. He focused on the grunts and groans of pleased Irish fall from Mick’s lips, the sounds of Ketch stroking his own cock in the corner- not enough to get off, but definitely enough to keep him hard and ready for his turn at Dean’s ass. He tried to not focus on his own noises, which were much louder than whispered exclamations of… something in Irish and the occasional grunt from their third. He knew he was making them, though. He felt the way that Mick’s balls slapped against his ass wetly, the sounds of Mick’s cock driving into his hole over and over again, the sweat building up from the friction between the two of them…
Eventually, his legs flopped around Mick’s waist, and he dug his heels into the small of Mick’s back to encourage him to go faster, harder. He wanted- no, he
needed
Mick to go faster and harder.
Mick dropped his head to his shoulder, panting heavily as he whispered something in Irish. It ended with Mick’s voice going up in pitch, so Dean knew that he was being asked something.
“Mick,” he gasped, “Alpha, I don’t speak-
fuck!
” He cut himself off with a swear as he felt Mick’s knot start pressing against his rim, his dick dragging against his prostate
perfectly.
“I think you’re fluent in ‘fuck’, Dean,” Ketch said dryly from his spot.
Dean gave a half-hearted growl. “Mick, baby, I don’t speak Gaelic,” he tried again.
“Forgot,” Mick said only half apologetically. “Will you wear my mark, Omega? Will you let me be yours?”
There was only one answer for that, and Dean tilted his head up and out of the way, exposing his throat.
“Thank you,” Mick breathed- at least, that’s what Dean thought he said before Mick bit down on Dean’s neck just as he knotted him.
Pain.
Pleasure.
Bliss.
Completion of a sort.
Dean sailed through his own orgasm, gasping and crying out as Mick laid his bite on him. His fingers clawed at Mick’s back in want, in desire, in
passion
, unable to keep his satisfaction to just a vocal outburst.
They collapsed together in a sweaty mess, breathing heavily and just content to let their hands roam while they worked to get themselves back to rights.
After a few minutes, Mick wearily lifted his head up from Dean's shoulder and looked down at him. His face was soft and he gave a low, possessive growl as he looked down at the still sluggishly bleeding bite mark where he had mated Dean. "My Omega," he purred deeply.
"My Alpha," Dean whined softly as he rocked his hips into Mick's.
"Oh no you don't,
a chuisle
," Mick chuckled as he reached down and pinned Dean's hips into place. "We need my knot to go down, and get Ketch mated to you. You want him too, don't you?"
Truth be told, Dean had briefly forgotten about Ketch, and he turned his head to look at his other mate.
Well, not quite yet. They weren't mated yet, but they would be soon.
Ketch smirked as he caught Dean's eye. "What, you thought you could just hog Mick all to yourself and forget about me?" he asked sarcastically as he picked up a pearl of precum on his thumb. Keeping his gaze on Dean's, he raised his thumb to his lips and licked the salty bead off.
Both Mick and Dean groaned at that and Dean wet his lips. "I just kinda want to suck you off, Sir," he said, biting his lip.
"There'll be plenty of time for blow jobs in the future," Ketch said. "Such as tomorrow morning, for a wake up call."
Dean snorted. "A wake up call that'll have me face down, ass up," he said.
Ketch merely raised an eyebrow. "And that's an issue how?" he asked.
Dean thought about it quickly before giving a shrug. "It isn't," he said with a smirk.
"Cheeky little poppet," Ketch murmured. "I should turn your arse red for your flippancy."
Mick chuckled. "You just want him squirming all over your lap while you spank him," he said, nuzzling at Dean's shoulder lovingly.
Ketch gave a deep rumble in his chest at the thought. "You enjoy that as well, Mick," he said.
Mick sat up a little more and gave a challenging look at Ketch. Ketch smirked back. "Oh, I know, my darling, you enjoy being spanked like a naughty little boy," he purred softly. "You really, really do."
"
You
, Arthur Ketch, are not helping matters," Mick grumbled. "I'm trying to deflate my knot so that you can mate our Omega. He's only halfway done, after all."
Dean wiggled underneath of Mick, getting comfortable (and teasing his new Alpha), and Mick rewarded him with a firm pinch on his nipple, one that had him arching his back up and moaning.
"We have a nice little masochist, don't we?" Ketch chuckled.
"One who may end up with a red ass before you mate him if he's not careful," Mick chuckled.
"I don't mind being spanked," Dean admitted, turning pink at the admission.
Mick leaned down and kissed along Dean's cheekbone to his ear. Once there, he whispered, "one day, we'll see if you can cum just from being spanked. That can be something that we can play with, isn't it?"
Dean whimpered. "You're making it
very
hard to behave and not keep your knot in me, Alpha," he whispered back.
"Then have it be our little secret until a later date," Mick said, drawing back with a wink.
Ketch smirked. "Plotting, loves?" he said.
Mick shrugged. "Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, Ketch," he said.
Ketch stood up from his chair and went to stand behind Mick, resting his hands on his waist. Mick leaned back into the other Alpha's hold.
"You did such a good job on him, baby," Ketch murmured. "He looks fucking
wrecked,
and he still has me to get through. And I'm not as gentle as you."
"You can be when you want to be," Mick said, turning his head to look up at Ketch adoringly.
Dean smiled warmly and lazily as Ketch's hands roamed the expanse of Mick's chest, his touch meant to be soothing rather than exciting. He was so happy to be in a relationship like this, where they all had their own dynamics but worked very well as a trio.
"I know," Ketch said quietly. "I just prefer to take what I want and leave the other person begging for
more
."
"That is because you're a sadist in all aspects of the word," Mick chuckled.
Ketch smirked. "You love it, darling. And so will poppet."
Mick smiled and leaned up to kiss Ketch sweetly, groaning softly as he felt himself come free of Dean's hole, his cock flopping wetly against his thigh.
Dean, for his part, now felt incredibly empty and even though Mick was still touching him, he found himself craving more, and he gave a mewl, sitting up to join them. He then laid back down as he felt slick and cum press against the curve of his ass where it met the satin sheets and his thighs, blushing brightly.
Both Ketch and Mick looked at him and smirked as they saw the mess on the sheets and between Dean's legs.
"You made quite the mess of him," Ketch noted as he reached around Mick. His fingers grazed Dean's sensitive hole and he whimpered, his legs spreading wider in order to accommodate both Mick and Ketch. Ketch gave a low growl of pleasure as his fingers picked up slick and cum from two different sources and lifted it up to his lips. Dean watched, fascinated as Ketch's fingers disappeared into his mouth and sucked on them.
It should not have looked as sexual as it did, and yet, Dean is also certain that either of them could read him the dictionary and he'd have an orgasm from just them talking.
That'll be something to try. To see if he could get off just by them talking- especially if Mick is talking in Irish. It just does something to Dean's insides.
Just like the sensual display Ketch was putting on as he licked and sucked each of his fingers clean of Dean and Mick.
"If that isn't a bloody aphrodisiac," he growled, "I don't know what is."
Before Dean could stop himself, he said, "I don't think you're turned on enough to fuck me if you're still using five dollar words."
Mick choked on a laugh and Ketch's smirk turned into an absolutely predatory smile.
Dean had 'fucked up'.
"Mick."
"I'm getting out of the way," Mick agreed, moving out of his spot and allowing Ketch to take his place. Mick retreated to the chair that Ketch had just been sitting in and perched on it, eager to watch what was going to happen next.
Ketch loomed over Dean, his gaze hard and unyielding. It was incredibly arousing to Dean, and it just made him want to brat even more.
"Are you saying that I'm not able to knot you as well as Mick?" Ketch asked in a smooth voice.
No one should look like they're going to turn into John Wick and have that calm of a voice. It wasn't fair.
"I never said that," Dean said, giving a smirk up at his other Alpha. "But you're using big words and you still haven't tried to fuck me, just played in the mess Mick made. I am a feast, and you're depriving yourself of it, Art." He flashed a patented Dean Winchester 'panty dropper' smile up at his soon to be mate and stretched.
"So you are saying that," Ketch smirked.
"If the shoe fits, Cinderella," Dean snarked.
Ketch's hand grasped Dean's face and brought him in close. His fingers dug in painfully, but Dean shuddered in pleasure from the roughhousing and smirked up at him.
"If you're even coherent by the end of me fucking you," Ketch said in a low voice, "I will be very surprised. I am not a patient man, and I was nice and patient enough to let Mick have his turn first. And if you think you're going to be able to walk or sit tomorrow, you will be sorely mistaken, because even after we mate you, we're not going to be done."
Dean's eyes widened and Ketch grinned darkly. "Oh yes. We're going to be taking turns using your tight hole, filling you up with our cum." His free hand drifted down to Dean's stomach and pressed on it firmly, “Because we are probably going to kickstart your heat, and get you pregnant with our pups. And if not this heat, well then there's always next heat."
Dean felt himself grow warm under Ketch's words. He cast a side glance at Mick.
Mick was sprawled over the chair, like he was merely posing for an art class, and he grinned at Dean. "Oh yeah, that's how he talks all the time," Mick confirmed. "He's gotten me off with that breeding talk a few times, actually. But with you, it's a dream that can become reality."
Ketch chuckled. "Now, poppet, are you going to apologize for your insolence, or am I going to have to fuck your apology out of you?"
Dean thought about apologizing, but he was a brat at heart, and he wanted to see if Ketch would really fuck him into oblivion. "We're down to three dollar words, Mick," he reported, "but I still don't think he's aroused enough."
Ketch gave a warning growl before smashing their lips together.
There was no finesse, just pure sexual aggression as Ketch bit down on Dean's bottom lip and sucked on it firmly. Dean's arms flailed and Ketch pinned them down above his head, rutting ruthlessly against Dean.
The friction was almost too much against his cock, he felt like he was going to cum. He tried to break the kiss in order to let Ketch or Mick know that he was about to cum...
"Cum," Ketch growled softly against Dean's lips. "I want you to cum as many times as you think that you'll be able to. I don't want you to hold back, nor do I need you to. I want you to achieve the absolute maximum pleasure, whether it's from me rutting against you like we're teenagers who can't wait until we fuck to get off, or on my cock, or even on my fingers. You are to cum. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Alpha!" Dean cried out.
"Good," Ketch grunted out as he rutted against Dean even more. "Then cum, poppet. Make a mess of us that Mick might clean up with his tongue later if you behave for him."
Dean came from that mental image and from the moan he heard off in the distance (like three feet away, but it's still a distance), Mick liked that idea too.
"Good boy," Ketch praised. "That's my good little poppet, cumming all over yourself just because your Alpha told you too."
Dean flushed bright red, and opened his mouth to protest but Ketch swallowed any protests in another heated kiss as his grip tightened around Dean's wrists.
"Don't cut off circulation," Mick warned idly. "We don't need to end up in the hospital tonight, especially."
"So every other night's on the books, got it," Dean managed to gasp around Ketch's lips. The Alpha above him huffed an amused laugh and nipped his upper lip in reprimand.
"Wrap your legs around me, Omega," Ketch murmured, withdrawing a little bit so he could adjust his cock to align with Dean's entrance.
"Where at?" Dean asked cheekily.
Ketch looked at Dean dead in the face before removing his hand from his wrist and grasping the head of his cock. He then pressed his thumbnail into Dean's slit.
Immediately, Dean's brain went into pleasure overdrive, and he quivered from the pain/pleasure line that Ketch was so artfully crossing.
"Fuck, that's gorgeous," Ketch said. "Did you see how he responded, darling?"
"Oh, I did,
a ghr
á
," Mick purred. "Definitely something to keep in mind for the future. Maybe we could break out the sounding kit?"
Dean mewled at that. "I like sounding," he admitted quietly.
"Our shy little poppet is a filthy, naughty little slut, isn't he?" Ketch purred. "And he's all ours. Think, he could probably have any Alpha he wants, and he chose us. How bloody wonderful is that, darling?"
"Very bloody wonderful,
a ghr
á
," Mick smirked. "Breathe, Dean."
Before Dean could ask why, Ketch's hand was around his throat. It wasn't squeezing, but it was there, a heavy presence as Dean swallowed and felt his Adam's apple press against Ketch's scarred palm.
"Oh yeah," Mick moaned. "Is that how I look when you do your hand necklace on me?"
"Yes," Ketch said, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. "Fuck, gorgeous. Absolutely bloody beautiful."
Dean wet his lips. He had never been choked before, but he loved the sensation of just Ketch's hand resting against his throat. A powerful reminder and it was intoxicating.
Instead of squeezing, Ketch's thumb brushed against Mick's mating mark and Dean felt himself arrive fully hard again and on the brink with a gasp.
"Oh my," Ketch murmured. "I seemed to have activated his boner button."
"Arthur Ketch," Mick said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice, "if you ever refer to our mating marks on our Omega again as his 'boner button', I am going to do something nefarious to your bollocks."
"You wouldn't dare," Ketch said, looking over at the other Alpha.
Mick smirked. “Would you risk it?" he asked softly. “Would you risk not having sex with me or me putting you in a pretty little cage?”
Ketch flushed and dropped his head down and Dean grinned. It was rare that Mick got the drop on Ketch like he just did, but a surefire way to make Ketch behave- in a manner of the word- was to bring up a chastity cage. Dean bit his lip to hold back in his giggles as Ketch turned a deeper shade of red from the thought.
"Hush," Ketch commanded softly as he gave a reproachful nip to Dean's chin. This only served to make Dean actually laugh softly. The laugh ended in a moan when Ketch's thumb brushed against his mating mark again and he moaned, shivering from the caress.
"Hmm," Ketch hummed, turning Dean's head to the side to expose his other scent gland between his splayed fingers. "Mine is most definitely missing. Not that it's not fun to play with Mick's mark."
Mick gave a low, possessive growl that managed to sound lazy but still served a reminder. Ketch threw a smirk over at Mick. "And I thought that I was the possessive one," he commented.
"You and I both damn well know that I'm just as possessive as you," Mick said. "I just have a better grasp of it, a ghra."
"Mmm, indeed," Ketch chuckled.
"Are you going to fuck me sometime this year, or should I just hop back onto Mick's cock?" Dean asked. "He looks like another knot is about to form. It'd be a shame if he wasn't tied to a nice, wet hole."
Ketch's eyes flashed red and Dean grinned in triumph. The grin was wiped away when Ketch seized Dean's lips into a ferocious kiss, the hand around his throat pressing down and in against Dean's neck and his cock thrusting completely into him without warning.
"Aaahh, I love it when Ketch gets challenged," Mick commented. "That's fuckin' hot,
a ghr
á
. Make our Omega feel good." A salacious little smile curved over the Irishman's lips as he gave an order in Irish.
Ketch groaned and shivered as he turned and looked at Mick. A growl erupted from his chest.
"Just fuck him, Ketch, we both know that he's yours as well as mine," Mick said affectionately.
Ketch looked at Mick and gave him a raised brow. "Are you sure you want me to?" he asked. "He may not be able to walk afterwards."
Mick shrugged. "Do you think that we plan on leaving the bed anytime soon,
a ghr
á
?" he asked with a smirk. "Fuck him hard, Ketch. Give him your cock."
Ketch grinned darkly and turned his gaze back to Dean. Dean tilted his head back and offered his neck, extending it the best that he could while Ketch had a grip on his throat.
"Good little Omega," Ketch groaned before he began a relentless pace.
If Dean had thought that Mick was unhinged, Ketch was even more so, slamming his hips into Dean's with a speed and an intensity that made him unable to really move, just really able to make strangled noises as he was fucked. As he was made to take every inch, every thrust.
Ketch eventually moved his hand away from Dean's neck and rested it next to Dean on the bed before his head dropped down. Dean could hear the deep groans and growls of his name and something in an increasingly deep British accent that had a vague inner accent within.
Just like when he was with Mick, he could barely tell that there was someone else in the room with him, although Dean's fairly certain that Jesus Christ himself could manifest in their room and Dean would be too blissed out to even notice that. Ketch was fucking him harder and faster than he ever dared thought.
Unlike when Mick had mated him, Ketch gave him no warning before his teeth dug deep into Dean's other scent gland, popping his knot deep within his body and causing a chain reaction of orgasms. Dean cried out and came a third time, almost blacking out as he heard Ketch growl
mine
as his teeth tore at his flesh.
When he gained more than just a semblance of consciousness, Ketch was still knotted within him and holding hip upright, his long fingers combing through his hair and a humming taking place. He groaned and nuzzled into Ketch's strong shoulder.
"Aahh, there's my little poppet," Ketch murmured. "I wore you out, sweetheart."
"Knocked me out, Art," Dean mumbled, keeping his eyes closed.
A straw pressed at his lips and Dean wrinkled his nose before trying to duck his head back and away.
"Don't be a brat,
a chuisle
," Mick chided. "Please drink some Gatorade for us? We've used you hard and we need you hydrated."
Grumbling about Alphas who knew better and did aftercare or something, Dean poked his head out and allowed the straw to press his lips, sighing as the flavor of the dark blue Gatorade hit his tongue.
"There we go, let's get your electrolytes up," Ketch purred softly, kissing his temple. "Are you hungry?"
Dean shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of his drink before withdrawing. "No," he muttered.
"You should eat something," Mick said. "How about a hardboiled egg?"
Dean wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Pie."
Mick sighed. "That requires us to put on pants,
a chuisle
," he said. "And you're recently mated. "Forgive us if we don't want to let anyone scent you yet."
It hit Dean then.
I'm mated to two incredible Alphas.
Dean poked his head up and looked at Ketch. The normally stoic British man was smiling adoringly at him, his eyes holding a compassion that Dean realizes is only directed at three people- his twin brother Alexander, Mick, and Dean himself. He turned and looked at Mick, who looked absolutely smitten. He inhaled, smelling all of their scents naturally combining with each other and he gave a content sigh.
"Can we sleep?" he asked. "Nest?"
"I suppose that we can nest," Mick chuckled. "I've got a protein bar. Please eat it."
"Choccy chip?" Dean asked.
Mick beamed. "As if I wouldn't give you your favorite," he said adoringly.
Dean took the granola bar and wiggled happily on Ketch's knot as he ate The Alpha groaned.
"I want this to go down sooner rather than later, little Omega," Ketch told him.
Dean gave him an innocent look and beamed. "You don't want to just continuously fuck me full?" he asked, batting his lashes for good measure.
"It'd be Mick's turn anyways," Ketch said. "Besides, the next time, I want to wake you up by eating you out- while you're full of Mick's release."
Mick's face turned pink from the idea and he looked over at Ketch. "You are a bad, bad man," he said. "
A ghr
á
, it's not nice to tease."
"I'm not teasing," Ketch said. "I'm making a promise."
Mick sighed happily. "And sometime, we should give our Omega a little show," he said. "Have him watch you fuck me."
"I'd like that," Dean said immediately.
Ketch chuckled as he laid down with Dean in his arms, Mick coming over to snuggle against Dean's back. "I bet, poppet," he said. "Maybe another day, I can watch you fuck Mick."
Mick whined. "Don't be such a tease," he pouted.
"Me? A tease? You're joking," Ketch chuckled.
Mick gave an affectionate roll of his eyes at Ketch and leaned over Dean to kiss him sweetly. Dean purred as he was sandwiched by his two Alphas, who showed affection towards each other.
"Thank you, darlin'," Ketch drawled before yawning.
Dean turned and pursed his own lips for a kiss from Mick. The Irishman smiled and kissed Dean sweetly, groaning as he did so.
"Get some sleep before we just lay here and make out," he growled softly as he broke the kiss.
Dean giggled before turning to look at Ketch. Ketch smiled and kissed Dean gently, as if he was made of glass before withdrawing and kissing his forehead.
"Get some rest, because your heat will start when you wake up," Ketch murmured. "Love you."
Dean sighed. "I love you too, Art. And I love you, Mick."
"I love you,
a chuisle
. Sleep well."
Dean smiled as he closed his eyes before he felt Mick lean over him and kiss Ketch. "I love you,
a ghr
á
."
"Love you too, darling. You get some sleep too. One of us is going to go into rut when he goes into heat and I have the feeling it’s you."
"Yes,
Alpha
."
Dean fell asleep before anymore banter could be passed between the two of them.
It had been two months since they mated, and Dean groaned as he felt his stomach roll inside of him. He had been battling nausea for the past few days, and it wasn't getting better, despite scent neutral soaps, anti-emetics, ginger tea, ginger candies, stomach massages provided by his Alphas... nothing was relieving his nausea.
"I think I've been poisoned," he moaned as he sat up to get dressed for the day.
"You're fine, poppet," Ketch soothed. "It's just a bit of a stomach bug. I'm wondering if you caught the flu." He kissed Dean's forehead, letting his lips linger. "You feel a little warm, but I'm going to attribute that to the fact that you just untangled yourself from Mick."
Mick smiled as he wrapped his arms around Dean from behind, and Dean gratefully leaned back into Mick's strong hold. "Do we want to take him to the doctor,
a ghr
á
?" he asked softly.
"Not yet, if he vomits or still feels like this tomorrow," Ketch said. "Or he gets a fever."
Mick nodded against Dean's shoulder and kissed his mating mark. It soothed Dean's anxious thoughts as to why he was feeling sick. "Besides, no one wants to poison you, little Omega."
Dean gave a tired purr. "I'm just so tired," he murmured.
"I know,
a chuisle
," Mick hummed, kissing along Dean's jaw. "We'll get through it, little mate. You, me, and the big mean Alpha over there." He winked at Dean.
Ketch sighed. "I'm not mean, darling. I'm just stern."
Mick grinned at Ketch and tilted his face up for a kiss. Ketch leaned in and kissed Mick, then kissed Dean.
Dean smiled into the kiss. "Can I have cinnamon sugar toast for breakfast, please?" he asked.
"We're going light on the cinnamon and sugar," Ketch warned. "If your stomach is still upset, I don't want to make it worse."
Dean burped a little bit, making a face at the sensation of having what tasted like vomit in his mouth. "Okay," he said, agreeing with the wisdom.
"That's why he should get
extra
cinnamon and sugar," Mick grinned, clearly trying to get Ketch's goat this early in the morning.
Ketch sighed. "Mick, no," he said. "The cinnamon and sugar could interact horribly with his stomach acid and make it worse."
"Meanie," Mick teased.
Ketch kissed Dean's forehead again, ignoring his Alpha partner for right now. "Do you want orange juice, white grape juice, or apple juice, Dean?" he asked softly. "Or do you want to try peppermint tea?"
Dean opened his mouth to respond to Ketch- only to vomit all over his mate, much to his horror.
Ketch just stood there, covered in Dean's vomit, and didn’t even bat an eye. He just stared at Dean with uncomprehending eyes. "Much as I have my proclivities, I do
not
have emetophilia, poppet," he said calmly, as if he was discussing the weather.
Dean, through a combination of the word he didn't know the meaning of and sheer embarrassment over vomiting all over Ketch, burst into tears. Which then caused another wave of vomit onto his mate and he cried harder, hiccupping.
"Shh, shh, oh it's okay," Mick soothed. "Come on, let's get you to the bathroom and cleaned up. You'll feel better after you brush your teeth." He looked at Ketch and bit his lip, obviously trying not to laugh at the situation. "You should hop in the shower,
a ghr
á
," he said.
"Why does he have to use five dollar words?" Dean wailed as Mick helped him stand up.
Ketch sighed and gave a rueful smile. "Poor poppet," he murmured. "I'll go into the master bath to shower. You get him cleaned up in the guest bathroom?"
"That'll probably be a good idea," Mick agreed. "Come along, little one. Let's get you cleaned up and feeling better. What do you want to drink?"
"Nothing, I don't want to puke again," Dean whined as he was being taken into the guest bathroom in the hallway, carefully supported by Mick.
"You need to eat and drink something,
a chuisle
," Mick said gently. "We don't need you dry heaving. I'm thinking some tea would be helpful. We haven't tried peppermint tea yet, and that can also help with nausea."
Dean kneeled in front of the toilet and rested his head against the cool porcelain. He didn't say anything, just in case he puked again. He closed his eyes and just gave a noncommittal noise.
"I know, it's not fun being sick," Mick soothed, rubbing Dean's back gently. "How about some plain butter toast where it's just barely toasted and some tea? See what you can keep down."
Dean turned his head to look at his other mate and opened his eyes. "Really?" he murmured softly.
"Yes, baby," Mick smiled.
Dean gave a wane smile and turned back to face the toilet. "I can believe that I threw up all over Art," he groaned. "Twice."
"If I wasn't concerned about your health, I would've laughed," Mick admitted. "Mostly because of his reaction."
Dean groaned again as his stomach shifted and he let loose another wave of vomit, this time blissfully into the toilet. "His reaction was to stand there and use a big word that tiny-brained people can't understand," he grumbled.
Mick chuckled. "That's what made it funny. Him just standing there and saying he doesn't get turned on by being puked on."
"Is that what that word means?" Dean whined. "Why couldn't he have just
said
that instead of using a... that's like a
ten-dollar
word there!"
Mick laughed and sat down next to Dean, wrapping his arms around the Omega. "Because Arthur likes to sound like he's educated and that he's important," he said. "You know this. And I think he enjoys how frustrated it makes you."
"Bastard," Dean mumbled, snuggling into Mick's embrace. Being near his Alpha helped with the nausea some.
"Knothead," Mick agreed with a gentle kiss to Dean's temple. "Feeling better,
a chuisle
?" he asked.
"Mhm," Dean hummed softly. "A little bit. I might be able to face Art now."
"I don't think you have much of a choice," Ketch said.
Dean and Mick turned to look at Ketch, who was leaning against the doorframe, wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants and his hair still wet from the shower. He smiled warmly at the Alpha and the Omega. "How are we feeling, poppet?" he asked gently.
"Better. Kinda. Threw up again," Dean admitted.
Ketch made some
tsking
noises as he approached them, holding the forehead thermometer. Dean allowed his temperature to be taken and Ketch sighed. "Normal, it's 97.8," he said. "I think you caught that bug that's been going around, Dean."
"Great," Dean groaned. "I don't want to be out of work."
"The shop will understand," Mick said quietly. "Your health is more important."
"Yes, you don't want to puke on someone's catalytic converter while you're tinkering with it," Ketch said with a nod.
Dean squinted at Ketch. "You can't puke on a catalytic converter, unless it's been removed from the car," he said. "That part goes underneath a car. Not under the hood."
Ketch licked his lips and hid a smile as he looked over at Dean.
"Bonnet," Dean groaned. "Fuckin' Brits."
Mick smirked at Dean and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You fell in love with two of them
, a chuisle
," he said.
"Irish doesn't count in my book," Dean said cheekily as he turned to kiss Mick gently.
"Let's get some breakfast," Ketch said. "I'm going to call the shop and mark you out for a sick day."
"Never have I been thankful for the two of us working from home," Mick said. "When's your day for London hours?"
"Thursday," Ketch said. "And Friday, actually."
Mick made a face at that and Ketch shrugged. "I'm sorry that I'm a financial executive, darling," he said. "When's your next London hours?"
"Next Wednesday, although I'm expected to be on night shift all week anyways," Mick said. "This most recent translation has been exceptionally tricky. I think it's simply because of a dialectal difference."
"Well, you know what they say," Ketch said as he helped Dean to his feet to get them to breakfast. "There are 32 counties in Ireland, but 32,000 accents."
Mick rolled his eyes while he helped Ketch with Dean. Dean snuggled into Ketch. "I'm sorry that I puked all over you," he mumbled.
"It's okay, poppet," Ketch said, kissing Dean's temple. "I know you didn't mean to do so. And I'm sorry that you got so upset."
"It's fine," Dean murmured. "Just feeling kind of... moody lately."
"Being sick and finally vomiting will do that to you," Ketch smiled.
They made it to the kitchen and Ketch sat Dean down at the table while Mick started working on breakfast. Dean sat at the table and watched his mates in domestic bliss, despite his stomach rebelling against him. He just focused on the various scents in the air: tobacco, whiskey, dark chocolate, orange, apple pie, vanilla ice cream, butter, toasted bread, peppermint... and what Dean could only assume was coffee that was brewed in a sewer.
"Did you switch coffee brands, Art?" he asked.
"No, why?" Ketch replied.
"Did you switch us to decaf?" Dean asked.
Ketch furrowed his brow as he turned to look at Dean from where he was making coffee in the pour over. "Why would I switch us over to decaf? That sounds like a horrible idea. Why are you asking?"
"Because the coffee smells like you've been brewing it in a sewer," Dean said bluntly.
Ketch arched an eyebrow as he appraised Dean. "It smells like I've been brewing it in a sewer?" he asked slowly.
"Yeah," Dean said, his nose wrinkled. "Or, like, you brewed it with low-grade motor oil. I don't know, Art, it smells awful."
"I think it smells fine,
a chuisle
," Mick said slowly. He took Ketch's coffee and gave it a slow sniff before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it smells fine to me. Make me a cuppa, please
a ghrá
?"
Ketch smiled gently at Mick before turning a concerned look to Dean. "When did it start smelling bad?" he asked.
"Today," Dean admitted. "It's turning my stomach and I may puke again."
"Not on me, God willing," Ketch said. "Dean... I think there's a very strong chance that you're pregnant."
Dean stared at Ketch. "No, there's no way," he said. "I... I can't be pregnant!"
Mick was also staring at Ketch.
"The symptoms line up. Morning sickness, nausea, aversion to certain smells and foods," Ketch said. "And from when we mated, we're right where you'd be showing signs of being pregnant. I'm just surprised it took me this long to catch onto that."
"Hold the phone," Mick said. "Are you saying that we actually managed to impregnate our Omega?"
Dean sat there in stunned silence.
Ketch gave a nod. "We should make an appointment, just to be certain," he said, "but his symptoms don't match up any other illness or whatnot."
Mick threw up his hands. "Oh God. We've managed to bring our breeding kink to life," he said. "We've done it to a virgin, no less! God, we're such fuckin' knotheads."
"Mick," Ketch tried to interject, but failed as Mick continued to ramble.
“We're so irresponsible! We have
no
idea how to raise children and soon, one of our own will be running around. GOD- Dean, you're okay with children, right? This is why we use contraception."
"Baby," Dean said, grabbing Mick's wrist and pulling him close. "Chill out, man. No chickflick moments."
"This is not a chick flick moment,
a chuisle,
" Mick said. "We have a duty to you and we failed. We don't even know if
you
want kids. God knows I do, and Arthur is irrelevant."
"Hey!" Ketch protested.
Dean kissed Mick sweetly. "I've always wanted kids," he admitted. "I'm not going to mind. It's unexpected, but I'm happy. Are you?"
Mick sighed into the kiss and nodded. "I am, I'm just.."
"Having a freakout," Dean said. "I kind of am, too, but I know that we will get through this together. All three of us."
Ketch came over and dropped a kiss down on Dean's hair. "Let's finish breakfast and do what we need to do, alright?" he said in the softest voice that Dean's ever heard him use.
"Sounds good to me, Art," Dean sighed.
"There's supposed to be a tea out there that helps with morning sickness," Mick said. "Shall I go get some?"
"Please," Dean groaned. "I don't want to puke on either of you
ever
again."
"I can agree with that," Ketch said. He tilted Dean's face up for a kiss but Dean made a face.
"Not until you brush your teeth," Dean said. "Coffee breath."
Ketch sighed heavily. "It's going to be a long several months."
It was another two months later when Dean was walking through the house after work. He had been placed on more of a desk duty within the shop rather than working on cars, just in case something were to happen. While he was thankful for the concern, he also felt at four months pregnant he could still work on cars- and he did. More detailing and less working underneath the car, though. He didn't mind too much, nor did he mind doing invoices and things such as that.
He had called out to Mick and Ketch when he got home, seeing that their cars were in the driveway, but neither of them answered. So Dean went to look for them and found them with the door cracked to their spare room. Dean stood next to it, not peeking in.
"Why aren't you showing as much excitement as I am,
a ghrá
?" Mick asked softly.
"I am," Ketch defended himself.
"No, you're not," Mick said. "If I've picked up on it, you know Dean has. And he deserves to see that his mate is happy for him."
Ketch sighed, and Dean imagined him running his fingers through his hair. "Look, it's all new to me. Showing affection and other emotions. You've known since we were lads that I'm the perfect example of British stoicism."
"Yes, and while I love it about you, I do need you to show some other expressions," Mick said. "And Dean does too. He's not going to be as sappy about it as me, but he does.
"I know," Ketch sighed. "And I love you. And I love him. So much that it hurts, Mick."
"Then why aren't you happy about being a father?" Mick asked softly, gently.
Ketch sighed again, a rougher sigh.
Dean's heart felt like it was in his mouth. Words that his brother said cruelly came to his mind.
They're only using you as a broodmare, Dean. You're going to get hurt. They're already established, they just want an Omega that they can turn into a clown car full of pups.
Is that what Ketch is thinking?
he wondered to himself as he continued to listen in.
"I wasn't ever really sure that I wanted kids," Ketch confessed. "I mean, you know how I grew up. You know what my father was like."
"You're not your father, Arthur David Ketch," Mick said firmly. "You may be the primary Alpha of this household but I will
not
allow you to degrade yourself like that."
Dean bit his lip, tears clouding his eyes. He turned and left as silently as he came in.
He went and hid in their garage, looking over his latest project, which was a classic bike restoration for Ketch.
Maybe if I can show him how much I love him, he'll be able to be happy to be a father,
he thought to himself as tears ran down his face.
He tinkered with the bike for a few hours, crying to himself intermittently so that he could just get his feelings out before he had to face them.
What if they ask me to leave? What if they rip out our mating bond and I'm cast out, just because they didn't want children?
he wondered to himself.
Where would I go?
John and Mary Winchester were dead, and Sam wouldn't, not after he had warned him. At least, he didn't think that Sam would take him in. Maybe he could travel down to New Orleans, meet up with Benny again…
No, you know that Benny's mated to Samandriel now,
he thought to himself and he sighed. He'd prefer a single Alpha as opposed to a mated one, which ruled out a lot of Alphas that he knew.
He knew that he had gotten really lucky being the third of an Alpha couple, as they didn't tend to stray over to Omegas. If they wanted pups, often they used a surrogate or did as Sam suggested that they were doing to him. That they might be doing to him.
I don't want to be pregnant anymore.
The thought came to him unbidden, a result of how much he was feeling upset at the moment. His hand dropped down to his only slightly swollen belly, rubbing it gently. He shouldn't be showing this early, he felt.
No, I have to be. Just because I may've chosen their father doesn't mean that they get to suffer. I'll give birth and run away. I'll raise them on my own. I raised Sammy- how hard could it be to raise my own son or daughter?
At least then I know they'll be loved
.
He didn't hear anyone enter the garage until soft hands, callused at the fingertips from hours of typing and thumbing through books wrapped around him and a gentle kiss was pressed to his temple.
Mick
.
"
A chuisle
, are you okay? We haven't seen you... well, since this morning," Mick said softly.
"'m fine," Dean mumbled, relaxing in Mick's hold as he was held. Somehow, Mick always knew how to make him relax with just a simple hug.
"No, you're not," Mick sighed. "I know you better than that, Dean. Something happened and you're upset. Tell me why?"
"It's dumb," Dean deflected.
"I'll decide that for myself," Mick said firmly, a hint of Alpha edge in his voice. He didn't use it very often, but when he did, it did have the tendency to make Dean weak at the knees.
Dean turned and buried his face into Mick's shoulder. "I overheard you talking to Ketch when I got home, and I..."
Mick cut him off with an Irish curse that sounded like he was going to curse Dean's entire bloodline. "
A chuisle,
" he said tenderly, cupping Dean's face in his hands and making him look at him. Mick's eyes were so warm, so caring, and Dean's lower lip wobbled. "You didn't listen to the full thing, did you?" he asked gently.
"Couldn't bear to listen to anymore," Dean admitted. "Didn't want to hear Ketch continue admitting that he never wanted kids."
"And so you went and worked on his bike?" Mick asked softly.
Dean cast his gaze downwards, tears filling his eyes again.
"Oh sweetheart," Mick murmured. "You're so precious." He kissed Dean's forehead. "After he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids because of how his father treated him and Alex, he said that there was only one person he could imagine having children with. As an Omega, that is. And do you want to know what his answer was?"
Dean sniffled. "You?" he asked, trying to bring some levity to the situation.
"Cute, but no. He said you. And you know what else he said? It doesn't matter if the child is mine or his biologically. Our children will never know the difference. Except they'll find out- it
is
important to have an accurate medical history after all, but it won't matter to us. They're going to be our children. Yours, mine, and his."
Dean sniffled and bit his bottom lip as he looked up at Mick. "Do you mean it?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," Mick said with such conviction in his voice, Dean started to cry.
Mick wrapped him up in his arms and shushed him gently. "There, there,
a chuisle,
we'll take care of you. We'll always take care of you," Mick murmured softly as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"I was so scared," Dean whispered.
"I know, baby, and I'm so sorry," Mick whispered back just as softly as he began to lead Dean into the house. "Now, let's get you inside, and you can make Arthur grovel at your feet for your forgiveness. He really does love you and me, he's just shit at showing it."
Dean gave a watery smile and nestled his nose against Mick's scent gland, inhaling the soothing scent of dark chocolate and oranges. Mick gave a low rumble that resembled a purr and allowed himself to be scented. "My affectionate little Omega," he cooed softly.
Dean smiled shyly and nuzzled into Mick. "Only for you and him," he murmured.
"We know," Mick said as they entered the house. They went through the kitchen and ended up in the living room, where Ketch was reading
The Times
,
The Daily Telegraph
in shambles next to him on the couch. He looked up from his newspapers with a look before landing his eyes on Dean. His eyes then went to Mick's, his eyes a little harder. "Who hurt him?" he asked lowly.
"You," Mick said shortly. "He overheard our conversation. Not all of it, but enough that it made him upset."
Ketch's entire face went soft and he threw the newspaper aside to walk over to Dean. Kneeling in front of him, he rested his head on Dean's barely there bump and wrapped his arms around his waist. "I'm so sorry, poppet," he whispered quietly. "I don't know how to be open with my emotions and I don't know how to be a father. My own was the antithesis of what I want to be and I'm scared."
Dean ran his fingers through Ketch's dark hair and sighed. "Art, it's okay," he murmured. "We're all scared."
"I know," Ketch whispered. "But I should've talked to you about it. And I can't imagine anyone else carrying my sons. Or daughters. I need them with you. I need you. I need him." He looked slightly over at Mick, who was leaning against the doorframe with an indulgent smile. It was clear that he was enjoying the view of the head Alpha on his knees for their Omega in supplication. Ketch returned his gaze to Dean. "Can you forgive me for hurting you?"
"Of course, Art," Dean said, getting on his knees with a little grace to kiss Ketch full on the lips. "I'm still not happy with you, though."
"I will more than make it up to you, Dean, I swear," Ketch whispered. He pressed a kiss to Dean's nose. "You shouldn't have to listen to my ick, although you shouldn't eavesdrop."
"Then next time, acknowledge when I call out saying that I'm home," Dean retorted.
Ketch gave a guilty little cough and nodded. "Touche, poppet, touche."
"I know," Dean smiled, kissing Ketch. "Now, do you have any ideas on how to make it up to me?"
Ketch got a wicked gleam in his eyes and he scooped Dean up onto his shoulders. "Mick, darling, do you have dinner handled?" he asked as he stood up, Dean laughing happily. "I've got some
atonement
to be doing."
Mick chuckled. "You lucky dog," he said, although whether or not he was referring to Ketch or Dean was unclear. "I've got dinner. You go make everything up to our Omega."
Ketch smirked darkly and walked off to their bedroom, Dean laughing as Ketch tossed him onto the bed before panther-crawling onto the bed over Dean, caging him under his body.
"So, what are you going to do to make it up to me?" Dean asked cheekily as he leaned up for a kiss.
Ketch kissed him deeply. "I think I'm going to see how many times my tongue can make you cum before you're begging for my knot," he murmured against his lips.
"It's not like you can get me pregnant again," Dean laughed as Ketch began undoing his jeans.
Ketch's eyebrows waggled. "Oh, poppet," he said in a dark voice, making Dean's toes curl against the bedspread. "I think you underestimate me."
Dean shimmied out of his jeans after Ketch started moving them off of his hips. "Me? Underestimate you? Never."
Ketch's smile shone in the low light of the room. "Now, how many times do you think I can make you cum with just my mouth?"
Dean thought about that for a moment before smirking. "Ten?" he asked.
Ketch grinned wickedly. "Oh, you're setting up a challenge, Dean," he said. "One that I accept." He ripped Dean's boxers off of him.
"Those were a set of my-" Dean was cut off with a groan as Ketch growled.
"I'll buy you new ones," Ketch groaned as he spread Dean's legs and placed them on his shoulders. He licked his lips and dove right into eating Dean out.
Two weeks later and Dean and Ketch were at Dean's OB appointment. Ketch was running his fingers through Dean's hair and smiling at him adoringly as Dr. Barnes looked at Dean on the ultrasound. "How are you feeling, poppet?" Ketch asked Dean.
"Good. I'm excited," Dean replied softly as the doctor continued working on the ultrasound. "What do you think?"
"I think you're going to have a little boy that's going to terrorize me," Ketch smiled, kissing Dean's cheek. "What about you?"
"I don't care, as long as they're healthy," Dean murmured. "Mick thinks it's a girl."
"He would," Ketch chuckled. "Mick's always wanted a little girl. Secretly I think he just wants one to dress up and parade around."
Dean giggled and smiled warmly at Ketch. "And you wouldn't do that if we had a little boy?" he asked lovingly.
Ketch gave a cough and shrugged. "I mean, you're not incorrect," he said softly.
"Dean," Dr. Barnes said softly, "Arthur, look at the monitor."
Dean twisted his head to look at the monitor and smiled as he saw a little one. He then squinted. "Wait-"
"Are there two?" Ketch asked softly.
Dr. Barnes nodded. "It's not uncommon for an Omega who's with an Alpha pair to have multiples, especially on the first pregnancy. Most likely one's yours and the other is the other Alpha's," she explained.
"What are we having?" Dean asked softly as he looked at the two fetuses on the screen, his heart filling with love and adoration.
Dr. Barnes smiled and she looked at Ketch. "You should listen to your other mate, Mr. Ketch. You're having two little girls."
Dean's jaw dropped and Ketch swooped in and kissed him deeply. Dean sighed into the kiss and broke it to nuzzle against Ketch's scent gland, inhaling tobacco and whiskey. "Twin girls," he whispered.
"One for me and one for Mick," Ketch murmured. "We're going to need a bigger house."
Dean laughed and smiled up at Ketch. "Well, get to it then, Mister," he teased, laughing at the playful growl from Ketch.
"I'll leave the two of you to get cleaned up and you can collect the ultrasound pictures at the desk when you check out," Dr. Barnes promised. "And we're going to be having bi-monthly checkups, Dean. Having twins while being a male Omega can make things a little more difficult and bumps you more into high risk territory."
"Sounds good, Dr. Barnes," Dean agreed.
Dr. Barnes left the room and Dean reached for the towel to clean the gel off of his stomach, only to be stopped by Ketch.
"Let me," the Alpha said as he picked the towel up and softly, gently removing any traces of the gel away from Dean's skin. Dean shivered from the tenderness and smiled adoringly at Ketch.
"You're going to spoil me," Dean said affectionately.
"Spoil you rotten," Ketch agreed. "Mick and I both are going to make you feel like the King you are while you're pregnant and beyond. Without you, we would never be fully complete." He rested his hand on Dean's stomach, just above his navel. "Anything you desire is yours, poppet."
Dean smiled warmly. "Okay, Alpha," he said softly.
Ketch's eyes fluttered closed. "God, every time you say that I get a boner," he said. "Come on. Let's get you dressed so we can drive home and tell Mick the news."
"We're not going to be able to understand him, he's going to start speaking in Irish once we figure it out. I think he's also already chosen names," Dean said as he slipped his shirt back on.
"Oh Lord," Ketch said as he picked up the pants from the floor. "Probably something very traditionally Irish."
"Probably," Dean agreed. "We're going to have to tell him that we need a name
we
can pronounce."
Ketch laughed as he helped Dean off the bed and escorted him out to the check-out area to collect their pictures and schedule their next appointment.
True to Dean's prediction, as soon as Mick heard that they were having twin girls, he began speaking excitedly in Irish while beaming like a boy who had been told he could have a BB gun. He hugged Dean as he babbled, peppering kisses all over his face before walking over to Ketch and kissing him deeply.
"Slow down, darling," Ketch murmured. "Neither Dean nor I speak Irish."
"Which is a damn shame, considering I've been teaching
you
for the past several years," Mick huffed playfully against Ketch's lips. "I'm just excited."
"We can tell," Dean laughed warmly. "Congratulations, Daddy and Daddy."
Mick beamed while Ketch's eyes became less than innocent.
"We should probably think of different names for us to go by," Mick said. "There's going to be three Daddies in the house otherwise and *that's* going to get confusing for everyone involved."
"You're not incorrect," Ketch said, kissing Mick's cheek. "Now, shall we start talking about names?"
Mick's eyes lit up. "Well, I've made a short list of beautiful Celtic names from Ireland and Scotland that I think will be beautiful."
Ketch and Dean gave each other a fond look and Dean smiled. "Can we pronounce them?" he asked.
"Oh yeah, I think so, they're not so complicated," Mick said happily. "Come into the bedroom, Omega, and I shall shower you with affection and names."
Dean laughed as Mick grabbed his hand and almost dragged him, Ketch following behind. "What kind of affection?" he asked.
Mick chuckled. "Only the good kind,
a chuisle
," he said. "Only the good kind."
Dean was now six months pregnant and he felt like a beached whale. He probably looked like one too.
Still, Ketch was there to rest his head against Dean's belly and rub it, often taking his afternoon nap curled up with Dean on the couch or in their bed, his head or his hand protectively on Dean's stomach and rubbing it absently in his sleep. It made Dean want to sleep and felt utterly loved and cared for.
Mick would do much of the same, but he would also stand behind Dean while Dean was brushing his teeth and lift the baby bump up and hold it for him for a few minutes, no longer than five, before slowly letting the bump go and Dean thought he had died and gone to Heaven each time they did that. Mick was also quick with foot massages and helping Dean clean himself in whatever way he needed or wanted to be cleaned.
Ketch and Mick had also worked on the nursery under Dean's careful direction. They bought a double-wide crib and made sure that the mattress and all sheets fit. Mick painted the bedroom a very soft mint green color and had painstakingly lined up baby Minnie Mouse borders across the top of the nursery, obviously wanting to make sure that everything was perfect. Everything was done in sets of two- two rocking horses that were shaped like carousels that Ketch had found
somehow
on Facebook marketplace, two changing tables, and two sets of matching outfits in different colors- they were going to have a purple twin and a red twin.
Dean groaned as Ketch rubbed some cream on his stretchmarks and sighed. "I am not looking forward to breastfeeding," he admitted to his mates.
"It'll be the best for the girls," Ketch said gently, moving up to apply the same cream to Dean's growing breasts. "And you won't have to breastfeed all the time. If you think that you're going to be the only one getting up in the middle of the night for the girls, you're out of your mind."
"That's right," Mick said. "Even if I have to print off a picture of your face and tape it to mine so they'll feed, I'll do so." He kissed Dean's forehead and handed him a glass of lemon water, one of Dean's latest cravings.
One of the girls kicked inside of Dean and Ketch smiled, resting a hand against where the foot had hit Dean. "I think they like that idea, Daddy," Ketch said to the other Alpha.
Mick preened and kissed Dean's cheek as Dean sipped on his water. "I know it'll be good for the girls," Dean continued, "but that still doesn't mean I'm not prepared for it."
"We'll make sure that you have a lactation specialist," Mick promised. "And we'll have bottles for the times that you don't want to whip a titty out."
"Or can't whip a titty out," Ketch said. He looked down at Dean's chest speculatively as he finished rubbing the balm into Dean's skin. "I wonder what it tastes like."
"You would, you filthy wanker," Mick said without any heat in his voice.
"Can we not talk about the two of you potentially sucking on my boobs while I'm lactating? The last thing I want is to get a Pavlovian response to my nipples getting sucked," Dean whimpered.
"You're already going to have that, poppet," Ketch chuckled.
Mick sighed. "
A ghrá
," he said.
"I'm sorry, I'm being crass," Ketch said without remorse. "But can you blame me?" He gave an award-winning smile to his mate.
Mick raised his eyes to the heavens. "Black and tans," he groaned.
“You love it,” Ketch teased.
Mick rolled his eyes affectionately and kissed Ketch. “I love enough to teach you a lesson about us winning our independence.”
Dean laughed and ran his fingers through Ketch’s hair as he settled his head back down on his stomach. “I can’t wait until they’re born,” he whispered.
“Yes, you can,” Mick and Ketch both said in unison.
Dean was eight months pregnant when the contractions hit. They didn’t feel like his usual contractions, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that his thighs were soaked.
“MICK. ARTHUR. MY WATER BROKE!” He called out as he steadied himself, making his way to the front door.
Mick was there in an instant, nuzzling his stubble over Dean’s chin as he helped him out and Ketch ran out through the garage door and brought their SUV around front.
“I’ve already called ahead to the hospital,” Ketch said as he opened the driver’s side door to help Mick get Dean into the car. “They’re expecting us.”
“Can you drive like we’re on Oxford Street?” Mick asked as he buckled Dean in before sitting next to him in the backseat.
“Darling, I’m driving like we’re on the German Autobahn. Buckle.” And that was the only warning that they got before Ketch absolutely floored the gas pedal, weaving in and out of traffic.
Both Mick and Dean yelled reminders that an SUV was
not
a motorcycle, like Ketch was used to driving, but it was interspersed with Dean crying out in pain as his contractions rocked through him.
They pulled into the Labor and Delivery area and Dean was immediately ushered into a wheelchair while Mick shooed Ketch off for a parking spot.
“He’s about seven centimeters dilated, we might be able to have him give birth naturally,” one of the doctors said as they moved into a room.
“Epidural,” Dean whimpered.
“Mr. Winchester, do you really want an-” the doctor was cut off by Mick grabbing the front of his shirt and getting close, his eyes flashing red.
“Get my mate a goddamn epidural, or you’re going to wish that you had one when my mate is done with you,” Mick warned in a dark voice.
“Right away,” the doctor said. Mick let him go and held Dean’s hand soothingly, keeping his scent calm.
Dean was crying, and that made Mick cry. “
A chuisle,
what can I do to help you?” he asked as Dean was rocked with pain, holding his hand tight enough to break his fingers.
“I dunno,” Dean whined, hiccupping. “Just being here is enough.”
Ketch came in and looked at Mick. “Did you really threaten a doctor?” he asked.
Mick shrugged. “Dean asked for an epidural and the doctor didn’t want to give him one,” he said calmly. “I simply reminded him what he was for.”
Ketch sighed affectionately. “It’s rare that you turn out like that,” he said. He reached down and held Dean’s other hand as Dr. Barnes and a team of nurses came in.
“Alright, gentlemen, move, it’s about to get messy. But first, Dean, let’s get you that epidural.”
It hurt more than anything Dean had ever felt in his life, and what made it worse was he knew that every cry, every tear, every whimper had his mates holding each other and watching. Once he had the epidural, it wasn’t too bad but he still felt an immense amount of pain.
“Okay, the first one is crowning,” Dr. Barnes said encouragingly. “Push, Dean.”
“I… I can’t,” Dean wailed.
Mick was immediately by his bedside, holding his hand again after he got through all of the nurses. “Yes, you can,
a chuisle.
Push, Dean. Bear down.”
Dean coughed and cried, holding Mick’s hand tightly. “I’m so tired,” he whispered.
“Our daughters are almost here,” Mick whispered. “Little Maria and Litlle Niamh. Push, love.”
Dean gave a cry and did as his mate asked.
“Again!” Dr. Barnes encouraged.
Dean did it again, sweating. He didn’t want to think about the bodily fluids he had excreted during this, but Ketch was leaning against the door, a worry line between his brow as he watched what was happening between Dean’s legs and Mick was holding his hand, whispering sweetly in Irish as he pushed again, this time without prompting.
Another cry filled the air and Dean gave a soft sob of relief as he watched his baby girl get moved into a nurse’s arms. He saw a shock of dark hair on the baby’s head and he smiled lazily, then turned wide eyes onto Mick. “Baby?”
“Yes,
a chuisle?
” Mick asked tenderly.
“That’s our baby.”
“Yes, love. It is.”
“There’s one more.”
“There is.” Mick smiled.
Dean felt the pressure and he whimpered, gripping Mick’s hand all the tighter.
“Let me,” Ketch said softly, replacing Mick’s hand with his own.
“I got-” Mick stopped as he looked at Ketch in the face.
“My turn, darling,” Ketch whispered.
“Mr. Davies? You can come hold your daughter, if you’d like,” the nurse said kindly.
Mick looked like someone just asked him to teach them Irish and he walked over eagerly to do so.
“There we go, poppet, how are we feeling?” Ketch asked gently.
“Tired, I’m so tired, Art,” he whispered.
“I know, poppet, but you’re almost done,” Ketch soothed.
The second baby came out a lot quicker and with considerably less pushing, and with a cry, the second one was born.
Dean relaxed against the pillows, closing his eyes in relief as Ketch peppered kisses all over his forehead.
“Which one’s which?” Dean asked hoarsely after a few minutes.
Mick smiled. “Open your eyes,
a chuisle,
” he cooed.
Dean opened his eyes and he beamed tiredly as he saw Mick holding the dark haired infant and Ketch now holding a blonder haired one.
“I think Niamh was born first,” Ketch admitted as he rested the blond baby against Dean.
“Which means what, Ketch?” Mick asked with a devilish grin as he placed the dark haired baby- Niamh, then- against Dean’s chest, alongside her sister.
Ketch flushed darkly. “Can’t we wait for that until our Omega can participate?” he asked.
“What, did the two of you bet who’s baby would be born first?” Dean asked, cradling both of them to his chest.
“Yes, and I lost,” Ketch admitted.
Mick smirked. “Which means that Ketch here has to do something.”
“Something naughty?” Dean asked as he pressed a kiss to Maria’s forehead.
“Mhm,” Mick hummed, his eyes dark.
Ketch flushed a bit more and averted his gaze. “He gets to spank me,” he admitted quietly. “And fuck me.”
“I’m watching,” Dean said immediately. “I don’t care if I can’t participate, I’m watching.”
Mick laughed and walked over to gaze down adoringly at Dean and the twins. “
A chuisle, a ghrá,
look.” he whispered. “We did it.”
“We did,” Ketch smiled, kissing Dean’s cheek. “Mick, turn down the lights. Let’s get some rest.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Dean said, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around Niamh and Maria. He smiled as he heard Mick walk over and the lights turn down before coming over and resting his head on Dean’s pillow.
“
A chroí,”
he whispered softly, stroking his fingers over Niamh’s dark hair.
“That’s a new one,” Ketch murmured as he slipped his hand on top of Dean’s. “What does that one mean?”
Dean could tell that Mick was smiling as he replied, “My heart. Our babies are my heart.”
Yes, they are,
Dean smiled to himself as he drifted off, safe and loved by his mates and by the children in his arms.