Forever (F-Word Book 4)

by E. Davies

  “Is he okay?” Zeph finally asked when the two of them noticed Tristan rolling his eyes and sidling past them to grab the last box out of the car.

  “He’ll be fine, yeah. It tends to hit him worst until noon.”

  “So, morning sickness,” River said. They and Zeph exchanged a glance.

  Tristan finally sighed. “Don’t tell the world, but yeah, he’s pregnant. That’s why I wanted him to move in.”

  Zeph clapped his hands over his mouth. “And you’re…”

  “Yeah, the baby’s mine. But even if it weren’t, it’s mine now,” Tristan told them, tilting his chin up. He defied anyone to tell him he couldn’t be a damn good father nevertheless.

  Zeph clapped his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Tristan. I’m glad you’re staying with him.”

  Tristan nearly laughed. If they only knew the truth—that it was Jake calling the shots here, and him hoping Jake let him stay around.

  They didn’t even know about the marriage. He and Jake had agreed to keep that under wraps until they were sure that they wanted the world to know. The last thing he needed was the doubts of others nibbling away at the edges of this tentative, beautiful thing they were building.

  They’d agreed to keep calling each other boyfriends unless it was to the insurance companies or doctors. Less pressure than suddenly being husbands.

  “As long as he wants me to stick around, I will,” Tristan told them, and then closed the car door. “Just this last box and we’re good for another trip.”

  Jake didn’t own much, luckily. Before late afternoon, they were all done and sharing pizza and beers.

  It was weird for Jake to stay in bed past noon, but the place didn’t have a lot of privacy. With the sliding master bedroom doors closed, that was about as private as it got. Tristan couldn’t exactly go check on him without everyone hearing about it.

  He left Jake be until he after saw his friends out, hugging them all and thanking them again.

  When he finally slid open the door, he didn’t expect Jake to be curled up in bed, silent but unmistakably in tears.

  “Oh, hon.”

  He realized the mistake the moment he’d said it. Goddamn it, why couldn’t his brain keep up with his mouth?

  “Don’t call me that,” Jake groaned, pulling his pillow over his face. “Fuck. Just… leave me alone.”

  Tristan touched his arm under the comforter—or what he hoped was an arm-shaped lump. “Sorry. Do you need anything?”

  “To know this isn’t a big mistake?” Jake’s voice was muffled behind the pillow.

  I can’t promise it isn’t. But that would be the wrong thing to say, Tristan felt. “It’s not. We’re doing the right thing for both of us, and for our kid.”

  “Go away and let me cry.”

  “Okay, babe. I’ll get you some more ginger ale and crackers for this week.” Tristan kissed the top of Jake’s head and headed out, as much as every ounce of him wanted to stay.

  He didn’t know what was eating Jake up—if it was just hormones, or if something had happened, or if he was upset about moving in.

  The possibilities made him think way too much, so he grabbed his car keys and headed for the store instead.

  Jake was living with him now. Whatever was wrong, Tristan could do his best to fix it, and he could take care of him in the morning and at night. He wouldn’t have to rely on text messages and stealing precious, fleeting minutes with Jake before he had to leave for his own apartment.

  For now, Tristan had to have enough faith for—and in—them both.

  Tristan announced himself as he walked into the room. “I have ginger ale, and I’m crawling into bed and not leaving until you talk to me.”

  Oops. Jake had been napping, but he jolted awake at the sound of Tristan’s voice.

  “Wha’…?” He rubbed his eyes as he pushed the pillow away from his face and looked between Tristan and the glass of ginger ale he’d just put on the bedside table. “For me?”

  “Unless you know of another boyfriend with morning sickness I need to be taking care of.” Tristan walked around the foot of the bed to climb onto the other side.

  Jake sighed and sank back against the pillows, scooting closer to Tristan. He wouldn’t look at him, but at least he was smiling. “Nobody crazy enough to do this except me.”

  “And me,” Tristan murmured, resting his hand on Jake’s shoulder.

  Jake slid closer, and Tristan let him dictate how close he wanted to get. He ended up almost wrapped around Tristan. “I’m sorry I freaked out. Again.”

  “We can blame the hormones if you want,” Tristan said, kissing his temple.

  Jake chuckled and shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but… you should know. All of this has just scared the hell out of me. The last time I was dependent on anyone was my parents.”

  Here it came. Tristan had been expecting to hear about this someday, but not necessarily now. He prepared himself to add another couple names to his shit list. “Mm?” He petted Jake’s hair in the gentle way he’d figured out calmed him down.

  The tension drained from Jake’s body as Tristan touched him. “Yeah. I was staying with a friend after I graduated high school. They told me not to come home until my phase passed, and I realized I’m nothing special. That I’m always going to be a girl.”

  Tristan winced and tried not to crunch Jake against his side as he squeezed him. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. So I called their bluff.” Jake said it simply, but it made Tristan smile. “I moved to L.A., started crashing with roommates and working crappy jobs… went on hormones six months later.”

  “And never looked back?” Tristan chuckled.

  Jake shook his head. “Oh, I looked back a lot. I was terrified it was the wrong thing. Sometimes I wasn’t even sure about hormones. I’d had to be so certain about myself for so long, in order to try to change their minds—not that that worked. When I was finally allowed to just breathe and think, I started feeling the doubts I wasn’t allowed to feel for so long. And getting scared that I was doing something I’d regret later. Part of that was being scared I couldn’t have kids, so when I found out I might be able to…”

  “And do you? Regret it, I mean?”

  “Nah.” Jake smiled. He drew a deep breath and let it out. “I can be a man who bears kids, whatever stupid Facebook and the internet have to say about it. All your if men could have kids, everything would be better memes. News flash: we can, and it fucking sucks even worse for us, because there’s nothing for us. No menswear for pregnant bodies. No daddy blogs to track our weekly progress. No forums to ask for help when I wake up in the middle of the night, terrified my breasts will grow back. Everything is oh, only ladies get pregnant. And if you ever say a word, everyone goes, Oh, but I didn’t mean you. No, of course not. They forget about us. They mean if real men could have kids there’d be more respect, not us. As soon as we use our wombs, we’re all girls together, right? Pregnant men already exist, and we don’t get shit, let alone respect.”

  In these last few months, Tristan had never heard Jake spill these thoughts. He’d always seemed so strong and certain of himself and unfazed by the assumptions he had to shrug off from healthcare professionals.

  “Fuck, Jake,” Tristan whispered, gritting his teeth. All he could do was hold Jake and listen, and try not to cry. Wetness leaked through the shoulder of Tristan’s t-shirt, right under Jake’s cheek. “You never said it was bothering you.”

  But it made sense. Jake was so used to being strong and unafraid and certain of himself that he might never let on a hint of doubt if Tristan didn’t watch for it. Indeed, Tristan had to learn to love Jake the way he needed him to.

  Jake was so used to being strong and shutting people out that Tristan had to be stronger sometimes. He had to push back—push through—until Jake talked to him. Now that he knew, he was confident he could do it.

  “No,” Jake mumbled. “And I’m okay with it, usually. I knew going into it that all this stuff woul
d be a problem. But I just… wasn’t ready. For anything that’s happened. It’s all… not on my terms.”

  Tristan rocked Jake gently and buried his nose in Jake’s hair. “I know. It’s all so fast.”

  “It’s everything I want, but it’s all right now, not… having time to grow into it. Not having a choice. Even if that’s what I’d choose, if I did have one. Is that weird?” Jake asked, finally looking at him. He looked anxious about the answer.

  “No, hon—baby,” Tristan assured him. “Not at all.”

  Jake chuckled grimly. “And about that… I probably owe you an explanation.”

  “Not if you’re not ready,” Tristan said. It was a strange quirk, but there were plenty of possible reasons. It wasn’t his place to question Jake only liking some pet names.

  “I want to, though.” Jake’s voice was thick. “Now that I’m talking to you about everything.”

  “Of course. Shoot,” Tristan told him, tracing his fingers along Jake’s arm.

  “My parents used to call me honey and sugar and sweetie when they wanted to be obnoxious. When I was arguing too much, or insisting I was a boy, or they just wanted to shut me up, they’d go super girly on me. They knew I’d shut up—and shut down.”

  “That’s…” Tristan was speechless for a moment. “That’s just fucking awful. I’m glad you left,” he finally said, when he could form words.

  All of a sudden, his own parents seemed less like cartoon villains in comparison. Sure, they’d told him he was making a mistake, but they hadn’t told him to leave. Exactly the opposite—they’d told him to stay, and not run away.

  It was time he told Jake about them, and he did, tentatively.

  “They weren’t acting hateful like yours. They just thought I was being a dumbass and throwing away a good future. And I didn’t like hearing it, so I left. Which…” he trailed off.

  Shit. It was the same kind of blow to his ego and confidence as a failed audition.

  This was a pattern.

  “Hm?” Jake prompted, looking up at him at last.

  “I guess I just can’t handle rejection,” Tristan said slowly, now that he was backed into a corner. His cheeks burned, and he kind of wanted to disappear. “That’s so… childish.”

  Jake rubbed his back. “We all have little childish things, from being children and being shot down. I’m only praying we—I—can keep those to a minimum with our kid.”

  “Do you think I should get back in touch?” Tristan asked. “Now of all times, when we’re having a kid, I’m starting to think about… wanting to broaden my family.”

  “Do you feel obligated to, or do you want to?”

  Tristan sucked in a breath through his teeth and then laughed. “That’s my boyfriend. Asking the smart questions.” God, he’d chosen right. “I want to. I don’t do shit because I feel obligated.”

  “Except look after me,” Jake pointed out, his lips curving into a little teasing smile.

  Tristan rolled his eyes but grinned. Jake wasn’t the only one feeling like someone knew him all too well, and all too suddenly. “Fine. But it’s not like you’re a burden. It’s the right thing to do, but I’d do it if you were just a friend.”

  “Let me move in with you?” Jake blinked. “Marry me, for the damn healthcare?”

  Tristan nodded. “Sure. If you were in need and I could help… it would be wrong not to help.”

  “You know, I could just believe you.” Jake breathily chuckled, and he finally leaned over to kiss him. “You’re too good a man.”

  Tristan sure didn’t believe that. He just chuckled and shook his head. “You make me want to be.”

  “Now, how about those cuddles?” Jake flopped onto the pillows and gazed up at him. “To celebrate my officially moving in?”

  There was an offer Tristan couldn’t resist. Not that he could ever resist Jake, even without those eyes at work.

  And he didn’t even want to try.

  21

  Jake

  Thank God the morning sickness was wearing off.

  Jake could get up before noon some days now, and he could even eat toast now. Too many days for the last few weeks, it had felt like he would never be able to stomach food again. But here he was, at ten in the morning, out of bed and eating toast. Almost like a normal person.

  The bedrest enforced by the constant nausea was far more unbearable than the fact he’d lost his figure. His abs were long-gone, and his stomach was starting to round out now. His pecs were fading, too, since he’d been strictly avoiding heavy lifting.

  The stakes were too high for him to worry about his vanity. But lying around doing nothing? That was driving him out of his mind.

  “Hey, Kyle.” Jake tried not to chew his nails when Kyle answered his phone with a chirpy greeting. “It’s Jake.”

  “Hi! How’s it going?”

  “Well, um… I was wondering…” Jake double-checked that it was a Saturday. God, who was he turning into? He didn’t know anymore. “Are you off work today? And free?”

  “Sure. Nic and I don’t have plans. Do you need anything?”

  “Um… I need to get clothes. I’m down to about two things that fit me,” Jake admitted. His bank account wasn’t doing great, but since he’d given up the rent and bills of his old place, he’d at least lost money much slower.

  “Shopping trip? Nico and I love those!” Kyle enthused.

  Jake chuckled. “That’s why I thought of you guys.” They were always well-dressed, in downright cool clothes. Often a lot more femme clothes than he was comfortable wearing, but meant they might know where to go that he could actually try on clothes before he bought them.

  If he walked into a maternity wear store, he was pretty sure he’d get laughed out… at best.

  “We’ll pick you up,” Kyle said. “It’s a date. How about Tristan?”

  “He’s at work.” Jake tried not to sound half as lonely or desperate for company as he felt. “Until at least eight, he figures. Probably later.”

  “Oh, man. He’s been working so much! Zeph said he can never get through to him anymore. We were going to go out for lunch. Do you know when he’s free?”

  “He keeps his phone off whenever he’s at work. If you tell me the date, I’ll check in with him later.” Jake made a note of it and left it on the counter, since he didn’t trust his brain to remind him of anything anymore.

  Before he knew it, Kyle promised to pick him up in an hour, and he had some social contact to look forward to. Or dread. God, he hardly remembered how to act in public anymore. A few weeks of isolation—especially of unemployment—felt like far longer.

  At least Jake’s belly was still so small that it just looked like a little extra weight on him. He wasn’t sure when he was going to cross that tipping point into obviously pregnant, but he hoped it lasted as long as possible. The last thing he wanted was strangers to clock him while he was walking down the street. Not because of what they might say or think, but because of what they might do.

  It’s not backwoods Kansas anymore, he reminded himself as he changed into his other, slightly less ratty, sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. It wasn’t classy, but it would have to do.

  He hated relying on others, but until early afternoon, he didn’t trust his body not to just catch a whiff of a food smell and reject everything in his stomach while he was driving. He’d very nearly had an incident while driving past McDonald’s last week.

  The doorbell rang just as Jake finished tidying his hair into something presentable. God, he was going to have to get a haircut before he started showing, too.

  “Hi, darling!” Kyle swept him into a hug, and not for the first time, Jake found himself overwhelmed with gratitude that his boyfriend had picked such great friends, through Zeph.

  Nic, who was always pleasant but much quieter, leaned around him to add his own wave and smile. “Hey.”

  “Hi, guys.” He hugged them each in turn and grabbed his keys. Well, key.

  It was strange to have
just a key to his boyfriend’s place on his keychain. Kind of like when—briefly, before the “privilege” was revoked for showing up with short hair—he’d had a single front door key to his parents’ house hanging on the same rainbow heart-shaped keyfob. It was battered now after many apartments, but he still clung to it.

  It was a reminder of his freedom.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Please,” Jake said. God, was he ever.

  Anywhere but at home.

  “I just hate relying on him for everything,” Jake said as he pushed hangers on the bar back and forth. “I’m not bringing anything into the household.”

  Kyle and Nic exchanged looks before Nic commented, “Except a baby. That’s a job.”

  “I still want to try to do more. So if you know of any jobs going…”

  He hadn’t been able to focus on anything long enough to job hunt lately, but now that he was feeling better, he needed to get back to it. And find workplace-appropriate clothes, which was unlikely. He’d be lucky if he could find anything to wear that wasn’t little better than a potato sack.

  Kyle promised, “I’ll keep an eye out. What about community college for skills?”

  “Like the trades? If there’s anything I can do, yeah.” Practical skills like electrics and plumbing weren’t his forte, but he’d give anything a try. “Like sewing something better than this shit.”

  Kyle cast him a thoughtful look. “You’re joking, but… that’s not a bad idea.”

  “I can barely sew a button on!”

  “You can learn. If you’re interested.”

  At this point, three rounds of fitting room hell later, Jake was starting to feel convinced he’d have to get interested pretty quickly, or stay in sweatpants for the next six months.

  Hell, even if he’d been a woman, he didn’t like the look of most of this stuff. It was all frilly and lace-covered, which delighted Kyle and Nic, but didn’t fit his own style. Even the plain t-shirts had ruffles or ruching or whatever along the seams.