First Heat
Pairing: none
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (briefly), John Winchester (mentioned)
Synopsis: 16yo Dean Winchester is presenting, and he's not having a fun time of it
Warnings: a tonne of swearing, a tiny moment of masturbation
This fulfills the "First Heat" square of my @spnaubingo and prompt 15 of @whumptober "I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself"
Supernatural writing masterlist
Dean had been in pain before. He’d been injured in hunts and training, gotten in fights at school, and gotten the belt from his Dad for a variety of earned and unearned transgressions. But nothing had ever hurt like this.
This was agony.
His insides felt like they were on fire. Like a white hot knife had been plunged into his belly and was being twisted to and fro.
Worse was the realisation of what this meant: he was presenting.
He was a fucking bitch Omega.
He whimpered quietly, trying not to wake Sam. He knew his brother would worry. He knew his brother would have very valid concerns about how their Dad would react.
He didn’t want to think about that.
He wanted the pain to be over.
He whimpered again.
Sam started to stir. Fuck. Stupid bloody motel room. Why couldn’t he live in a normal house and have his own goddamn bedroom at the age of goddamn 16 so his stupid 12yo brother wouldn’t hear him whimpering like a baby when he couldn’t control it any more? Why’d he have to go through this with an audience?!
“Dean?” Sam asked in a worried voice. His eyes grew wide as they focused on Dean’s bed. Dean knew he must paint a pretty picture: drenched in sweat, shaking like a leaf and probably grimacing through his pain.
“’m fine Sammy, go back to sleep,” he grumped at him.
“You’re an Omega,” Sam breathed. He must be able to smell him. Great.
“I’m still in charge, go back to sleep,” he hissed.
Sam started climbing out of his bed. Dean growled at him, but even to his ears it sounded about as terrifying as a newborn kitten purring. He was just in so much pain.
Sam reached out and gently touched his shoulder. Dean whimpered again.
“Umm, we have to get you some help.”
“I don’t need your help, I can handle things myself!”
Sam rolled his eyes. He headed over to the motel phone on the desk.
“What-” whine- “what are you doing?” Dean stammered. “Don’t call Dad!”
“I’m not, jeez, I’m not an idiot.” Sam picked up the receiver.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Calling Bobby.”
“Sam it’s the middle of the night and I’m fine anyway.” Dean’s panting just to get through the sentence did rather betray him, but he didn’t any Sam waking anyone up and telling them his shame.
Sam rolled his eyes again. Bloody 12yos. He started dialling.
“No, no,” Dean said, throwing off his covers. He tried stand up to go stop Sam, but he fell to his knees instead, crouched over. He whined loudly, unable to stop himself.
“Bobby?” he heard Sam say. “Dean’s, umm, Dean’s presenting. He’s... I think he’s... he’s... he’s in heat.”
Dean couldn’t hear Bobby’s side of the conversation, just Sam agreeing a lot. Finally Sam hung up the call.
“Ok, he said that the pharmacy will have something you can take to make the heat stop, and then you have to see a doctor to get suppressants so you don’t have as many heats.”
Dean grunted in response. Something to make it stop sounded great right now.
“Umm...” Sam was looking shifty. There must be something else.
“Spit it out.”
“He, umm,” Sam looked down, not looking anywhere near Dean, “he wants me to go get you a collar first so you can’t get claimed by an Alpha.”
Dean hissed.
“He said you have to come to the pharmacy or they won’t give me the medicine, but it’s too dangerous for an unclaimed Omega to just wander around without a collar... Especially in heat.”
Dean punched the bed next to him. Stupid fucking bitch body.
“But, umm, nowhere will be open yet. So he said to give you some painkillers and you might want to take a shower.” Dean appreciated that Bobby sent a coded message, didn’t tell his stupid kid brother to tell him to go jack himself off.
Sam helped Dean to stand and to stumble into the bathroom. He was still in so much pain he couldn’t stand straight. Sam offered to help him get in the shower but he growled at him and he backed away.
Sam shut the door behind him. Dean leant his forehead on the cool tiles. Fucking hell.
He panted with effort as he got his drenched boxers off, choosing to imagine they were wet solely from sweat.
He painfully manoeuvred himself into the shower stall. He paused to get his breath back before tackling the taps.
The water did feel good.
He gently touched his aching cock. It was so sensitive he felt like he nearly came from that alone. He felt a rush of slick run down from his ass. That was almost a massive turn-off.
He gently pumped himself, needing only a few strokes before he messily came all over the shower screen. He panted, feeling a little better. He felt strangely empty, but he tried to ignore the implications of that.
He stood under the stream a bit longer, enjoying the sensations. Finally, the water started to turn cold, so he shut it off. He staggered out and grabbed a towel, drying himself off.
He was half-hard again already. Fucking hell.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door. Sam was sitting on the bed tapping his feet like he did when he was worried. He looked up quickly.
“Oi, bitch-” Crap, Dean thought. That nickname’s problematic now. “Chuck me some pants.”
Sam quickly grabbed him undies and jeans and passed them to him. He shut the door and struggled into them, panting from the effort. The relief he’d felt when he’d come was already starting to wear off.
He staggered out and made it to his bed before collapsing.
“Ok, umm, I’m going to go get you that, umm, thing...” Sam said, standing up.
“The fuck you are,” Dean growled.
“Dean, Bobby didn’t want you getting claimed by some psycho Alpha.”
“What fucking respectable establishment do you think is going to sell an Omega collar to a bloody child? You’ll have CPS on our asses in no time.”
“...Oh.”
“Let’s just go to the pharmacy and get the fucking drugs.”
“But Bobby said-”
“Fine, get Bobby back on the phone and I’ll tell him I’m not endangering you just so assholes don’t come near me. I can take care of myself.”
“I, umm, can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
Sam squirmed. “He’s, umm, he’s not at home anymore.”
Dean’s voice turned deeper, “What do you mean, he’s not at home anymore? Where the fuck is he?”
Sam looked down, never able to maintain eye contact when he knew he was saying something Dean wouldn’t like. “He’s on his way here...”
“He’s what?”
“He’s coming to help! He’s worried about you! He doesn’t think you’ll be able to get into a doctor without a guardian and he also doesn’t think Dad’s going to, umm, take it well... and we don’t know when he’ll be back anyway...”
“Right, well, we are going to the fucking pharmacy where I am going to fucking punch anyone who so much as looks at me like I can’t fucking buy fucking pills by my fucking self, got it?!”
“You could wear Dad’s collared shirt... Might be better than nothing,” Sam said hesitantly.
Dean huffed out a deep breath. “Fine,” he growled. Sam scampered over to Dad’s bag of extra clothes and pulled it out. Dean growled again but put it on.
He whimpered as he tried to do up his shoes, but shot a glare at Sam before he could offer to do them for him. The knife in his guts was back, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with.
Dean swayed and clutched his belly as he stood up. Sam crossed to him quickly and held his upper arm, despite Dean’s glaring look. Reluctantly, Dean let Sam help him to the door. Sam grabbed the room key and locked it behind them. Dean held out his hand to take the key. Sam looked like he was going to argue, but he seemed to think better of it and handed it over. Dean was dammed if he was going to let a stupid thing like being an Omega stop him being the responsible one.
They staggered down the road, Dean needing frequent rest breaks. The pain was growing and growing. Both brothers were on high alert for any Alphas walking past, but it was still quite early in the morning. They made it to the pharmacy safely.
Then they had to wait outside for 15 minutes until it opened. Dean whimpered frequently, despite his best efforts not to.
Finally, finally, the door opened. Sam helped Dean up from the ground and into the shop. “My brother needs help,” he called, earning him a growl from Dean.
The pharmacist hastened over. “First heat?” she asked, a sympathetic look on her face.
“Ye-yeah,” Dean grunted.
“Is there something you can give him?” Sam asked anxiously.
“Where’s your guardian?”
“Our Dad went out of town for the night, I called his hotel and he’s on his way back but it’s a long drive,” Sam lied earnestly. “Wanted to get my brother some help first.”
“He left you alone?” she asked sharply.
“It was only one night, and my brother’s 16. He can look after us for only one night. We didn’t know he’d present.”
She pursed her lips but seemed to buy Sam’s lie about how long John had been gone.
“Right, well, we’re really supposed to have a guardian’s permission. Especially for an Omega, it’s not like he’s presenting as an Alpha,” she chuckled. Dean had to stop himself from growling at her casual sexism, that wasn’t going to get him what he wanted.
She considered. “Your father’s on his way back?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam answered.
“Alright, I’ll give you the first dose but I’m keeping the rest of the box. You bring your father here with the Omega when he gets back and we’ll give the rest of it.” Sam squeezed Dean’s arm in warning. Dean groaned in pain to cover his anger at her words.
“Thank you so much,” Sam gushed. She walked behind the counter and returned a minute later with a tablet which she held out to Sam. If Dean hadn’t been in so much pain he would’ve given her a piece of his mind about how she had already decided his twelve-year-old brother was somehow his guardian by proxy. Instead, after a slight pause where Sam was confused about what she was doing, he took it and then handed it to Dean.
“Do you, umm, do you have any Omega collars too?” Sam asked hesitantly. Dean growled.
“Yes, of course. Heavens, I should have suggested that!” She bustled off.
“I am not wearing a collar!” Dean hissed to Sam.
“Bobby said-” Sam whispered back.
“I will tell Bobby where he can shove his stupid-”
The pharmacist returned. “Here you go,” she said, approaching Dean with the collar open as if she was going to attach it to him. He hissed and put his arms in front of him in a defensive pose, although the fact he still couldn’t stand up straight did rather ruin the effect.
“Come now, little Omega, there’s no need to be like that.” She deftly manoeuvred around Dean’s weakened arms, and his shocked expression, and clicked the collar around his neck. “There you go, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Now no naughty Alphas can claim you.”
Sam quickly grabbed Dean’s arms, turned him around and walked with him to the exit, calling out his thanks. He was, rightly, worried that Dean would attack the woman. Dean hissed and spat whilst the Beta just waved pleasantly back at him. Fuck her.
They began the slow hobble back to the motel, Dean clawing at the collar. “Just leave it alone until we get home, you may as well have the protection now that we have it,” Sam said.
Dean kept clawing, but he was in so much pain and struggling to think and walk that he was ineffective.
Finally, they made it back to the motel room. Sam batted Dean’s hands away and quickly removed the collar. Dean gratefully collapsed on to his bed, curling into a ball and whimpering. He hoped the drugs would kick in soon, before he started crying like a baby in front of Sam.
He finally started to feel a tiny bit better, but also uncomfortable. He tossed and turned, hissing whenever the position he moved to turned out to be more painful than he’d expected. He couldn’t stop his whining, either.
He looked over at the other bed, seeing Sam’s wide eyes staring at him in worry.
“It’s alright, kiddo,” Dean said through gritted teeth, “You’re shooting up so fast you’re definitely going to be an Alpha. You won’t have to go through this.” Dean didn’t mention that he himself was tall and had assumed he’d be an Alpha, or at least a Beta.
“I’m not worried about me, Dean, I’m worried about you!”
“I’m fine,” Dean hissed. Sam rolled his eyes.
Eventually, the pain and sweating eased a little more. It felt more manageable, less like he was going to burn up and die. But he was still immensely relieved when there was a loud banging on the door, Sam opening it up to reveal Bobby on the threshold.
Dean stood up to greet Bobby, not wanting to be seen as an invalid. Bobby pulled him into a hug. Dean actually fucking whimpered like a needy bitch. “It’s alright, ya idjit,” Bobby murmured. “It’s going to be alright.”
.
.
.
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