Stepbrother's Secret

by Anna Wineheart

  “No more babies,” Olivier hissed. “Any more, and you’d better hide those balls of yours!”

  Yeah, Eric wasn’t going to talk about sex right now.

  He held Olivier through the pain. Wiped off Ollie’s sweat and kissed his temples, getting him some water to drink.

  “The baby’s crowning,” the midwife said.

  And Eric suddenly remembered all the dangers he was trying so hard not to think about. Ollie’s life could be in danger. Eric could lose him anytime.

  Eric was shaking before he realized it, holding on tight to Ollie. Felt like he was hugging his omega to steady himself, instead of Ollie.

  Ollie wasn’t afraid at all. He was brave. Eric was just plain scared.

  I’ll treasure you every waking moment. I’ll always be there for you. I’ll stop asking for more babies if that’s what you want.

  Eric held his tongue, his stomach twisting as Ollie pushed and pushed and pushed, until a bloody mess slid out of him.

  For a heart-stopping moment, Eric couldn’t breathe. There was so much blood.

  He swayed on his feet, burying his face in Ollie’s shoulder, just breathing in Ollie’s carnation-and-honey scent. Ollie’s fine. He’s fine. He has to be.

  Ollie sagged back against the bed, panting. He touched Eric lightly on the wrist. “It’s okay, Eric. I’m fine.”

  Eric fought against the dizziness that tried to swallow him. He opened his eyes, saw some dark spots. Felt like puking. “Can’t look at the blood,” he muttered. “I tried. Can’t.”

  “You don’t have to,” Ollie murmured.

  “I should be able to,” Eric said, disappointed with himself. “I’m alpha.”

  “You aren’t less if you can’t.” Ollie squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

  When Eric looked up, there was only love in Olivier’s eyes, and acceptance. It meant nothing that he couldn’t look at the blood.

  “Okay,” Eric whispered.

  Then the baby wailed, and the midwife brought the tiniest baby over, all curled up, its eyes squeezed shut.

  “It’s a boy,” the midwife said with a smile, gently depositing Taylor onto Olivier’s chest. Ollie’s eyes filled with tears. It was their child. A tiny human Eric had created with his omega.

  Eric stared. Then he gathered them into his arms, relief washing over him. Olivier was alive, he was well, and their baby was beautiful.

  “Taylor,” Ollie murmured, kissing their son. “We’ve been waiting for you so long.”

  “Yeah,” Eric rasped, his throat tight. Ollie looked up, his eyes filled with wonder. Eric dropped a soft kiss on Ollie’s forehead, then Taylor’s. “Your dads love you very much. Welcome to the family.”

  Olivier choked up. Eric held him, his heart so full it could burst.

  There in the hospital, with the baby born healthy, and with Ollie smiling in his arms, Eric knew he had the people who mattered most.

  And the pieces of his worries fell away, the leftover cage walls in his chest crumbling into dust, scattering on the wind to leave him lighter and freer than before.

  I think you’ll be happy, Alice would say with a smile. And I’m happy for you, too.

  Eric swallowed hard, brushing his wrists over Olivier and their baby to mark them as his own.

  He’d do his best for them. Protect them with everything he had. Because they made up his heart—Jenn and Taylor, and Olivier, the beautiful soul who had freed Eric from his cage.

  They were his family, and in turn, Eric was theirs.

  Epilogue

  “Are you ready?” Eric asked, wrapping his arms around Olivier’s waist. “I don’t want to be late for our own wedding.”

  Ollie laughed. Taylor squirmed against him, making an unhappy face. At five months old, Taylor loved babbling and blowing raspberries. He had Ollie’s dark hair, and Eric’s red-brown eyes.

  “We’re all set, I think.” Olivier glanced around. “The diaper bag’s packed, we have water and snacks for Jenn, and... I’m dressed. That’s an achievement, right?”

  Eric grinned. “Sure it is. I’ll put Taylor in fresh diapers, and we’ll head out.”

  Then came a sound that was only too recognizable—and the smell. Olivier stopped breathing, looking down at Taylor in horror. Taylor giggled. His nappies grew damp, smearing onto Olivier’s arm.

  Eric sighed, running his hand down his face. “Don’t tell me he just pooped.”

  Ollie wanted to cry. “It’s not only that, Eric. It’s all over me, too.”

  Jenn raced into the room, little cardboard airplanes in her hands. At almost two, she was growing taller, learning to do so many things by herself.

  “Fly, fly, fly!” she said, grinning up at Ollie. “Papa fly?”

  And despite the baby poop all over him, Olivier cracked a smile. “We’ll go on a plane ride sometime,” he said. “But not now, all right? We’ll have to get your brother changed out first.”

  “But Papa!” Jenn made a face.

  Ollie couldn’t help smiling, though. She’d taken to calling him Papa, and from the delight in Eric’s eyes, Olivier wasn’t the only one happy about it.

  Some days, he still wondered about Alice. But other days, when he saw Jenn grin and race over to hug him, his doubts melted away. He was doing the best he could for Jenn.

  One day, she’d probably ask about her biological mother. And Ollie would be honest to her about that. But before that time came, and before Jenn decided whether she disliked having him as her dad... Olivier would treasure every day he had with her.

  “Still worrying about that?” Eric murmured, tugging Ollie to the bathroom.

  Olivier shrugged. “Kind of.”

  “She loves you, you know.” Eric glanced at Jenn racing through the apartment. “No matter what she learns, I think she’ll remember that.”

  “I hope so.”

  “She will.” Eric kissed him on the corner of the lips, and Ollie’s heart melted.

  Then Eric stripped away the parts of Olivier’s outfit that were still clean. “Guess we’ll wash you both in the tub.”

  Jenn stopped by the bathroom door, her eyes lighting up. “Bathtime?”

  She began to shrug out of her clothes.

  Ollie groaned. “Jenn, no! We have a wedding to get to!”

  “But bathtime!”

  Taylor touched his legs, then patted Ollie on the chest with his poopy hands, leaving smears all over Ollie’s clean shirt. Jenn scrambled into the tub.

  “We’ll never make it in time,” Olivier mumbled.

  Eric sighed. “I’ll tell Cole and Aaron to entertain the guests,” he said drily. “Maybe Levi will join in.”

  Levi was still avoiding Cole. With Taylor and Jenn keeping Olivier busy, Ollie hardly had time to help Levi fix whatever had gone wrong in his relationship. But someday, he hoped Levi would find the same happiness that Ollie had found with Eric.

  By the time Eric set his phone down, Ollie had gotten most of their clothes off. All he needed, really, was to get Taylor clean, and his own arms washed off. Eric scooped Jenn out of the tub. “We’ll be back,” Eric said. “You’ll be okay?”

  Olivier nodded, determined. He wasn’t going to disappoint Eric at all.

  Eric grabbed Jenn’s clothes and swept her out of the bathroom. Ollie got the water warm, washing Taylor carefully, getting all the poop off his skin.

  There was so much of it; it had gone down his legs, up his back somehow. Taylor splashed in the water, getting it up the walls of the bathtub.

  By the time they were done, Ollie wanted to sink into Eric’s arms.

  He shut the water off, sighing when Eric stepped back into the bathroom. “Jenn’s dressed. I’ll handle this one,” Eric said with a brisk grin. “Get yourself cleaned up. Looks like that spare outfit came in handy.”

  Olivier flashed a grateful smile, peeling his dirty shirt off. “I’m not sure what I’d do without you, Eric.”

  “Probably those toys you hid in that bottom drawer
.” Eric grinned, and Olivier flushed. “Jenn’s been getting into everything, though. We should transfer those toys somewhere she can’t reach.”

  Trust Eric to be prepared for their children. Ollie laughed, taking Eric’s hand so Eric could haul him out of the tub.

  They were out of the apartment half an hour later than planned. Jenn sang in the backseat, and Taylor babbled along with her, his hands in the little striped mittens Ollie had bought last year. Eric had bought a matching pair of socks for Taylor, just to complete the set.

  Ollie slouched into the passenger seat, tired.

  “We haven’t even gotten married yet,” Eric said wryly, squeezing Olivier’s thigh.

  Ollie picked at his shirt, thinking about the laundry waiting for him back home. And then he thought about the wedding, and this second shirt he’d picked out—it wasn’t his first choice, because it didn’t hide his post-partum belly.

  Five months after Taylor’s birth, Ollie had lost some of the weight he’d gained. He still wore the stretch marks on his belly, though, and the skin there was wrinkled.

  Eric had probably noticed that every time they made love, the lights were either dim or off, or Ollie wasn’t facing him.

  Olivier wasn’t sure Eric wanted to see that belly. Or if he did, whether it would affect how much Eric wanted to get into his pants.

  They pulled into the parking lot at the park, Eric cutting the engine. “Worried about your belly again?”

  Olivier froze, his cheeks burning. “How... How’d you know?”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “I’m your bondmate, Ollie. I’m getting married to you. What don’t I know?”

  A chuckle bubbled up through Olivier’s chest. “I just...” He shrugged awkwardly. “I was hoping you wouldn’t look at it.”

  Eric sighed, twining his fingers with Olivier’s. “I’ve told you. I don’t care what you look like.”

  “But you’ll still see my belly when we—when we get in bed.” Ollie glanced at their children listening in. “I mean... I didn’t look like how I used to.”

  “And I told you the same thing when you had that puffy face, didn’t I?” Eric slanted a lopsided smile at him. “I like how you look, but that’s not why I love you, Ollie.”

  Except Ollie still wanted to fit in, wanted to be normal. He wanted to be pretty and perfect for Eric, wanted to lose the slurs and hurts from his past. The awfulness of his belly just added to it.

  Eric clicked off his seatbelt. Then he tugged Ollie’s shirt up his belly. Ollie squawked. “Eric!”

  “Just gonna prove it to you.” Eric pressed a kiss to Olivier’s wrinkled belly. Then he squeezed Ollie between the legs, pressing a finger up against Ollie’s hole. “Gonna consummate our marriage when we get some time alone.”

  Olivier’s face scorched; he glanced out the window, where other cars had parked and guests were gathering for the ceremony. But Eric squeezed Ollie’s sac, yanking his attention back to those red-brown eyes.

  “Believe me?” Eric murmured, kissing up Ollie’s chest. He stroked his wrist down Ollie’s abdomen, then straightened Ollie’s shirt. “Would you still stay if I got badly disfigured?”

  “I would,” Olivier answered, knowing it was true. “I love you regardless of anything else.”

  “Then you understand when I say the same goes for you.” Eric smiled, his eyes full of warmth. “Okay?”

  Olivier read the patience and love in Eric’s gaze, the acceptance.

  And maybe it didn’t matter what he had done in the past, how badly he might look in the future. Eric had bonded with him, and he was still here.

  “What matters is your heart,” Eric whispered, pressing his palm against Ollie’s chest. “Here. This is what makes you you, Ollie. It’s why I wake up every day, knowing my life is perfect. Because I have you.”

  Olivier blushed, his heart swelling. Maybe he could let go of the uncertainties he had about himself. It would take time, and he would stumble on occasion.

  But Eric had stayed by his side, and he wasn’t leaving.

  “Okay,” Ollie said, easing into a smile.

  “Then let’s get married.” Eric kissed him briefly on the lips, nudging Olivier out of the car.

  With a smile, Ollie followed Eric out, grabbing the diaper bag while Eric saw to the children.

  Levi rushed up to them, his face tight with anxiety. “You’re late, Ollie! We’ve been holding them for a whole half hour!”

  Olivier couldn’t help a mischievous smile. “You and Cole?”

  “Me and Aaron.” Levi scowled. “Thanks for nothing.”

  “I’m sorry.” Olivier hugged him, hoping Levi would find happiness even if it wasn’t with Cole.

  When Eric had Taylor secured in one arm and Jenn by his side, they set off for the gazebo in the middle of the park.

  The first spring leaves had begun to unfurl on the barren trees—it was March, and around them, life had begun to flourish again. Near the gazebo, swans glided on the lake. Dogs barked in the distance, and voices murmured.

  Rows of people were seated in front of the gazebo. Olivier’s regulars from the shop waved; even their neighbors were there. Kate the alpha grinned when Ollie met her eyes. Mrs. Antoinette gave him a thumbs-up.

  Olivier didn’t recognize most of Eric’s friends and coworkers from Total Sounds, but a couple of them seemed especially excited when they approached.

  “That’s Julia,” Eric said, waving back at a brunette beta. He shook hands with an omega with a bouncy toddler. “And this is Bick.”

  Wyatt and Raph waved from across the aisle, toddlers seated in their laps. Ollie was thrilled that they’d showed up—because of course they would; none of them knew any other stepsiblings who had gotten married.

  Brad and Ian were there, too, close to the front row. Brad mouthed Get him at Ollie, and Ollie blushed.

  “Eric,” Cole said behind them, mildly annoyed when Eric turned. “Thanks for the late notice that you were gonna be even later.”

  Eric shrugged helplessly. “Taylor pooped all over Ollie. Can’t expect Ollie to show up with poop, can you?”

  “I guess not.” Cole winced when Eric thrust Taylor at him; he looked immediately at Taylor’s bottom. “You’re sure he’s cleaned up now.”

  “Yes, he is.” Olivier grinned, hugging Cole when Cole took Taylor into his arms. “Thanks for helping out, Cole.”

  “Only for you,” Cole said. “Not for Eric.”

  “Bastard,” Eric muttered, but he was smiling, too.

  Levi had vanished when Ollie looked again. Aaron came up, slinging his arm across Olivier’s shoulders. “Trust you guys to arrive fashionably late.”

  Olivier glanced at the minister with a wince. But the minister waved and gave a jolly smile, and the anxiety building in Olivier’s chest eased a little.

  The people they loved were with them. Things would work out fine.

  Eric slipped the ring off Ollie’s hand, tucking it into a tiny black box. “Ready to bear some rings, Jenn?”

  Jenn looked up with a big smile, but Olivier knew she found the whole ceremony confusing. “Fly?” she asked.

  Eric laughed. Then he paused, rummaging through the diaper bag. “Actually, wait. I’ve got an idea.”

  Ollie was about to ask what, when Dad stepped up to them. “Olivier.”

  Olivier’s stomach dropped. “Yes?”

  They had been hoping for Dad to attend the wedding. Olivier hadn’t invited Wendy, and Eric had been fine with it. But they thought Dad might’ve been offended, because he hadn’t replied to the wedding invite at all.

  So for Dad to show up, dressed all nicely... Was this forgiveness?

  “Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?” Dad met Ollie’s eyes. For a long moment, Olivier couldn’t breathe.

  He hadn’t planned for it. Didn’t know if Dad would want to see him and Eric tying the knot. But for Dad to volunteer, for him to show his face in front of everyone, marrying one son to the other...

  “You
don’t mind?” Olivier choked, grasping Eric’s hand.

  Dad looked at him, then at Eric, and Taylor in Eric’s arms. “I know I haven’t been the most supportive,” Dad said. “But I’ve watched you and Eric struggle to be together. You’ve found happiness. That’s more than I can ask for.”

  Ollie blinked back his tears. “Thank you.”

  Dad pulled them both into a hug.

  The ceremony began with a recorded violin rendition of Stories With Us. Eric’s voice rumbled from the speakers—they’d recorded this together last week.

  Jenn raced down the aisle, two rings taped onto her airplane.

  “Fly!” she yelled. Ollie almost ran after her, just in case she fell.

  But she made it to Eric, who scooped her up into his arms, a wide grin on his face. And then Eric’s gaze locked with Olivier’s, warm and excited. Ollie’s throat grew tight.

  When the crowd turned to look at Ollie, Dad murmured, “Are you ready?”

  Olivier nodded. And he walked with his father down the aisle, Dad’s hand steady around his like how it used to be, so long ago.

  Walking with Dad, Ollie remembered the first time he’d met Eric, when he was seven, and Eric, five. Eric had watched Ollie, and Ollie had stuck his tongue out.

  He remembered Eric showing him his birthday cake in the fridge when he was eight, remembered stuffing those cherries in his own mouth, and Dad beating Eric for it.

  He remembered Eric sniffing his wrist when he presented as omega, and later that night, Eric climbing into Ollie’s bed. I want to smell you again.

  He remembered Eric holding his hand in music class, Eric looking into his eyes. I’ll be here, Eric had said. You don’t have to be scared.

  When Ollie was eighteen, Eric had said, I love you, and there had been pain.

  Now, at thirty, Ollie was walking down the aisle with their father, Eric waiting at the end of it.

  There had been joy, and there had been tears. There had been suffering, and they had forged their bonds like tempered steel.

  Today, Eric would become his.

  His heart thumping, Ollie came to stand next to his alpha, Dad slipping away to where Cole held Taylor and Jenn.