Omega's Joy: An MPREG Romance

by Oliver Crowley

  “I’m fat,” he said.

  “You’re not fat, you’re pregnant,” Fabian said easily, and wow, okay, Jeremiah had no idea how instantly enraging it would be to have someone else try and pacify him with that.

  “I can be both, asshole,” he hissed. Penny leaned against his ankles, sighing. She was really clingy lately.

  Fabian shrugged easily, always difficult to rattle but especially since Jeremiah had told him he was knocked up. It turned out that pacifying a pregnant psychopath was truly Fabian Ellison’s naturally placid temperament’s time to shine, and Jeremiah kind of wanted to slug him a lot of the time and also, like, curl up at his feet and let him feed Jeremiah donuts.

  He threw himself down in front of his computer, trying to tamp down on any more crazed thoughts.

  “Your skin looks really good,” Fabian said out of nowhere. He was leaning back in his chair, ankles crossed, dappled in sunlight as it sliced through the curtains, tan and trim.

  Jeremiah, hunched over his desk alternating between feeling overheated and sticky and then getting chilled from the sweat, peered up at him, never having felt more grotesque in comparison. “Okay, serial killer.”

  Fabian laughed. “I’m serious! Like, not to be a cliché, but you’re kind of glowing.”

  “That’s a myth,” Jeremiah grumbled. “Shut up. Don’t make fun of me.”

  “I’m not making fun of you. I don’t know if this will just make you mad, but you kind of…carry it well.”

  Jeremiah had never wanted to murder someone so much in his life. That apparently showed on his face, because Fabian leaned away, looking alarmed. “Okay, you’re mad, I get it. My bad.”

  They messed around on their laptops in silence until Jeremiah told himself he couldn’t put it off any longer and put his hands in his lap, tangling his fingers together, trying to swallow back the anxiety until he could manage to force the words out.

  “I told the other dad,” he said quietly.

  Fabian sat up straight, watching Jeremiah intently. “Shit, really? How’d it go?”

  It wasn’t hard to make himself look miserable and embarrassed. It felt pretty method, in fact. The farthest thing from an act Jeremiah could imagine.

  “He, um.” He picked at the grain of the fancy rough-hewn table top in Fabian’s kitchen. “He doesn’t really want to be involved in all this. He’s with someone else, and it’s just. The timing is bad.”

  Jeremiah glanced up and watched Fabian’s face fall. He got up and came to Jeremiah’s side of the table, putting his arm around Jeremiah and pulling him in. ” Jeremiah. I’m so sorry.”

  Jeremiah let himself be hugged in a way he wouldn’t usually allow, Fabian wrapping his arms all the way around Jeremiah’s shoulders almost too tight, the contact suffocating and grounding all at once.

  “What an asshole,” Fabian seethed into the crown of Jeremiah’s head, and Jeremiah had to laugh.

  “No, it’s me. I’m the asshole. Forcing this on some poor unsuspecting one-night stand. It’s not his fault.”

  “It’s not your fault, either,” Fabian insisted.

  Jeremiah didn’t argue back, knowing any line of reasoning he tried to debate would rapidly spiral out of his ability to defend without coming out with the truth, and apparently, he wasn’t doing that. Not at all.

  He could admit Fabian was being a good standin baby daddy. He wondered if Alex would humor him as much as Fabian did. Probably not was the automatic answer, but then, Jeremiah was thinking of Alex from before. An Alex that didn’t know Jeremiah was pregnant and didn’t feel obligated to be sweet to him the way Fabian was almost on accident simply because it was his nature. Alex, who was a prickly little stress ball and usually a dick, except when he was being kind and noble and sensitive. He would probably feel it was his role to be nice to Jeremiah if he found out, too, compliment his skin like a creep, placate his wildly vacillating moods.

  Maybe try to be with Jeremiah, probably. Offer him some kind of shotgun wedding. Introduce him to the whole clan, arm clasped tightly around Jeremiah’s shoulder, feigning pride as he stoically showed off Jeremiah and his giant belly.

  God.

  The idea of Alex deciding to be with Jeremiah out of duty honestly made something in Jeremiah’s chest feel like it was about to give out.

  Because Alex would do it. Dive right in, no hesitation. He loved nothing more than answering the call of duty, and joylessly standing beside the pregnant idiot carrying his child, manfully Doing The Right Thing for years and grinning and bearing it for the sake of the kid. Alex had been training for this his whole life.

  Which was why Jeremiah couldn’t even give him the opening.

  ***

  Because Jeremiah was truly an idiot of the first order, he spent most of the trip to meet Alex at the airport convincing himself that it probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal to see him again.

  “You okay?” Fabian asked. He was driving, Jeremiah curled morosely against the passenger window.

  Fabian had been glancing over every time they slowed down since they’d left the house, feeding off of Jeremiah’s nerves. His hovering had only become more pointed in the last few weeks, Emily nearly as bad. In a way, Jeremiah did kind of feel like he’d been adopted as their idiot kid, and he was mortified by how comforting it was.

  “I’m fine. Just a little nauseous.” That was true. Just not from strictly baby-related reasons for once.

  “Okay, well, tell me if you need to pull over.”

  They waited by baggage claim, Jeremiah getting more jittery with every second, until Fabian said, “There he is!” and Jeremiah looked up and saw Alex striding toward them, grinning broadly.

  He looked tired but excited to see them, bags under his eyes, grey medium t-shirt clinging stupidly to his broad shoulders, dorky baseball hat pulled low over his forehead.

  There was a low throb of heat at the base of Jeremiah’s spine, warring for attention with his regular pregnancy back pain that had been increasing in intensity for the last several weeks. He felt overheated, sweat beading along his hairline.

  Fabian and Alex hugged quickly, slapping each other’s backs enough times that Jeremiah didn’t understand why they didn’t just give in and hug like normal adults.

  “It’s so good to see you, man,” Fabian said, finally letting go.

  “Tell me about it, feels like it’s been a million years.” Alex’s voice sounded so good, deep and rumbly, familiar.

  He turned expectantly to Jeremiah. “Carson, hey,” he said, voice soft. It was hard to believe it was the first time they’d seen each other since May, since Jeremiah had left Alex sleeping peacefully and taken a cab to the airport where he hung around for five hours for his flight rather than wait for Alex to wake up and gently and compassionately tell Jeremiah how much he regretted fucking him.

  Before Jeremiah could react, Alex swooped in and wrapped him up in a tight hug, not a single bro characteristic to it.

  Jeremiah locked his knees, refusing to lean into it or crumple at all. He did allow himself to wrap his arms around Alex’s narrow waist and squeeze hard, but that was it.

  Alex put his face into the side of Jeremiah’s neck and inhaled, big hands resting firm between Jeremiah’s shoulders. Jeremiah had forgotten how tall he was. He smelled like sandalwood, like black-and-white pictures of rangy men smoking cigarettes during their break from the factory line, staring frankly into the camera, strong forearms braced on their knees. It was terrible.

  He could feel the exact second Alex realized something was off.

  He went still, arms wrapped around Jeremiah, drawing back just enough that he could see Jeremiah out of the corner of his eye.

  “Um.” Jeremiah’s belly was pressing into him pretty unavoidably now. Alex definitely could feel it. It was obvious what it was. Jeremiah felt fat, but his stomach was kind of firm. He did his best to remain defiantly silent, though, forcing Alex to point it out. “Carson. Jeremiah. Is that…”

  Jeremiah’s h
ands were shaking. He clenched them into fists at the small of Alex’s back.

  Alex pulled back, peering down at Jeremiah in abject bewilderment. His eyes kept darting from Jeremiah’s face down to his abdomen and then back up again in an endless circuit.

  “Are you.” Alex coughed. “I don’t want to be a dick or anything, so tell me if I’m wrong, but are-”

  He couldn’t seem to say it. Jeremiah shrugged out of Alex’s arms, doing jazz hands. “Um, I wanted to wait to tell you in person.” He couldn’t even say it. He cast around for some way to articulate it, short of actual mime. Somehow, what he came up with was, “Welcome to the premiere of Knocked Up 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

  Alex’s translucent eyebrows went scrunched. “Knocked Up 2? This is your second time being knocked up?”

  Jeremiah shrugged, chewing on his lip. “Well, Knocked Up already came out, so this would obviously be the sequel, just not with Seth Rogan. Not all sequels have a linear plot, Alex, you live your life by so many rules.”

  Fabian cut in, nudging Jeremiah with his shoulder. “Pure poetry. Clearly, a master of the spoken and written word.”

  Alex was looking at Jeremiah’s belly, and Jeremiah had to strain not to cover his arms over it.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered. “You’re really-you’re really pregnant?”

  Jeremiah nodded shakily. “Yes. I really am.”

  Alex finally tore his eyes from Jeremiah’s stomach, still looking knocked on his ass. “Who-with who?”

  Fabian groaned. “He’s being incredibly coy about it, Alex, don’t waste your breath.” He reached to grab one of Alex’s bags. When Jeremiah went to take the backpack on reflex, Alex held it away.

  “I got it,” he insisted.

  Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “My arms aren’t broken. I’m capable of doing simple courtesies.”

  Alex ignored him, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “What does ‘being coy’ mean in this context?” he asked Fabian.

  “It means he’s keeping it a secret. He won’t tell anyone. Not even me.”

  “Is it…someone we know?” Alex asked, trying for so hard for casual he circled back around to severe.

  Jeremiah shook his head. “No. No one you know. It was a one-night thing in LA, nothing major. So it’s kind of weird.”

  Fabian looked surprised. “That’s honestly the most detail we’ve gotten out of him in a month. You’re like a snake charmer, Alex.”

  Alex looked uncomfortable but he tried to laugh, the sound hollow. “Who would have thought, Jeremiah Carson able to effectively keep a secret.”

  “Just because I’m unable to keep from telling you right now that I’m getting you a new iPhone case for Christmas doesn’t mean I can’t keep important secrets, Alex,” Jeremiah argued.

  “See, that’s what I mean,” Alex said. He was actually smiling now. Not the easiest smile, but something.

  “It’s waterproof, it hooks to your shorts when you run, you’ll really like it,” Jeremiah said tiredly. “Maybe bigger, more important things just aren’t other people’s business.”

  They started walking to the parking lot. Alex fell into step beside him.

  “Sorry about that back there,” he said quietly. “I was just surprised.”

  “Honestly, don’t worry about it. I walk around in a constant state of surprise these days. I don’t remember what it feels like to not be surprised.”

  “Congratulations.” Alex grinned at him. “Man, that’s so wild.”

  “Tell me about it.” Jeremiah swallowed. “Thanks. For the congratulations.”

  Alex looked like he wanted to say more but instead stepped back to let Jeremiah go through the revolving door first. Their arms brushed as Jeremiah moved past.

  Outside, he pushed his sunglasses down from his head onto his nose. Breathed in deep. Didn’t let himself think about anything in particular. It was the only way he was going to be able to survive this thing.

  ***

  Fabian chattered happily in the car to mostly monosyllabic replies from both Jeremiah and Alex. Jeremiah was too busy panicking in the front seat, sure Alex knew, he had to know, he used to deceive crowds of people as a job, he had to know Jeremiah was lying to him.

  Alex brooded silently in the back, dumb giraffe legs folded nearly to his chest even though Jeremiah had begged him to take the front seat.

  As Fabian merged onto the freeway, talking about wedding planning, Alex cut in.

  “So how far along are you.”

  Fabian paused, deferring politely to Jeremiah, who made a vague motion with his hand. “Just a few months.” He was well into his second trimester, but the less detail the better, he figured.

  “Feels like years, from the complaining,” Fabian chimed in merrily.

  Jeremiah socked him in the arm. “Shut up. Have you ever carried a fetus before? No, you haven’t, so you don’t get to make judgments on my lifestyle.”

  “Complaining has been your lifestyle long before you got pregnant, dude.”

  He couldn’t really argue with that so he just smacked Fabian on the arm again and crossed his own arms, pouting.

  Alex was undeterred by their bickering. He put his elbows on his knees, leaning between the front headrests. “So, the other dad.” Jeremiah didn’t like the way he sounded. Too focused. It made his nerves ratchet higher. “Where is he at?”

  Jeremiah suppressed a flinch by the skin of his teeth. Fabian glanced at Alex in the rearview.

  “Um, he’s not really involved.”

  “What?” Alex made an outraged sound. “How is that fair?”

  Hissing a sigh, Jeremiah shook his head. “Life’s not fair, big guy. Sorry to break it to you.”

  Alex mostly ignored him, and when Jeremiah snuck a glance at him he saw Alex’s color was high, brow furrowed and furious. “So you have to do this all on your own while some irresponsible dickhead just gets to go on living his life?”

  “It’s not really that simple,” Jeremiah tried, but Alex wasn’t having it.

  “Who is it, Jeremiah?” Alex wasn’t afraid to demand the details from Jeremiah. Jeremiah was reminded again how lucky he’d been to only have to deal with Fabian and Emily so far. They were cupcakes compared to Alex.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Jeremiah said stubbornly.

  “Is it Adam’s?” He said Adam’s name with even more venom than he usually did.

  “No, god. We’re broken up, anyway.”

  That threw Alex off his stride for a second. He sat back, surprised. “Wait, really? Since when?”

  Jeremiah threw his head against the headrest with a thunk. “Since a while ago, god, that is also my business and not yours.”

  “Carson, this is insane, how are you letting this asshole just-”

  Fabian cut him off. “Don’t yell at him about it, Alex.” He threw a sharp look over his shoulder.

  Alex sat back in a huff. “I’m not yelling at Carson, I’m just pissed off on his behalf.”

  Jeremiah curled up in his seat, wishing fervently that he was dead.

  “He should still be here.” Alex couldn’t seem to stop. Jeremiah couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him so enraged. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone. It’s fucked up that he’s not here with you.”

  This was unbearable. “Alex, stop,” he begged hoarsely. “Please.”

  “Jeremiah,” Alex murmured into the sudden quiet of the car. “God. I’m sorry.”

  Jeremiah had to bite back a shock of shrill, hysterical laughter at the absurdity of everything, fists clenched tight in his lap.

  He felt like he was looking down at himself, watching himself perpetuate this horrible lie, and there was nothing he could do, like he was trapped behind a wall pounding on the glass, begging himself to just say something, undo this now while he still had the chance.

  But he couldn’t, and he didn’t, and he just sat there, silently, intentionally misleading his two best friends on easily the biggest secret of his entire life.


  For his part, Fabian was clenching the steering wheel. He hated fighting, and he hated when he friends fought, and Jeremiah felt bad for making him uncomfortable.

  Finally, Alex huffed out a laugh. “Jesus, you guys have been busy. What else have you been keeping from me?”

  Jeremiah did his best to sound haughty. “Well, Alex, I don’t know if you know this but babies are expensive. I have to start saving up my nest egg now. Not all of us are set to inherit a vast family fortune one day, and a working seersucker manufacturing plant besides.”

  “You have a really weird idea of what my family is,” Alex said, sounding both exasperated and warm, a familiar blend that helped Jeremiah’s chest slowly begin to loosen. “What even is seersucker?”

  “It’s cotton with a striped pattern on the fabric,” Fabian supplied, the know-it-all.

  Jeremiah let his eyes drift closed, overwrought. He let Fabian and Alex’s low voices soothe him into a doze, not waking up until they pulled into the driveway.

  “Carson,” Alex whispered. He put a warm hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder and squeezed. “Hey, we’re here.”

  Jeremiah groaned and opened his eyes. Fabian was getting out of the car, rolling his eyes tolerantly at Jeremiah. Jeremiah blinked up at Alex, who had opened his door to peer down at him.

  “You need a hand?”

  His instinct was to get his back up at the offer but he still felt dumb from sleep and let Alex pull him out of the car, stumbling a little until Alex held both his elbows to steady him.

  He smiled softly down at Jeremiah. “You good?”

  Jeremiah nodded dumbly.

  “I really am happy for you, you know. I’m sorry I was such a dick.” He looked intent, like there was nothing more important than Jeremiah forgiving him for being human and having actual emotions.

  It made Jeremiah irritable. “Stop it, it’s fine. You were just surprised.”

  He pulled away and started for the house, following Fabian in so he could complain to Emily about his feet, which had started to swell halfway through the day and Emily was so far the most patient when it came to listening to Jeremiah whine about how his body continued to betray him.