Omega's Joy: An MPREG Romance

by Oliver Crowley

  Fabian regained his chill, with what sounded like extreme effort, just in time for him to proclaim, “Wait, I know where you are. You’re by that-I think it was a candy factory. Do you see a tall smokestack?”

  Jeremiah craned his neck to look out the back window. He didn’t see it, he didn’t see it-there. “Yes! I see it! Candy factory, sure. You’re a genius, Fabian.”

  “I actually got lost out there, too,” Fabian confessed. “It’s how I found the cherries in the first place.”

  Vindicated, Jeremiah pointed out tiredly, “See, easier than you’d think, right?”

  “He’s in Seerfield,” Fabian was saying, muffled, and Jeremiah assumed he was talking rapidly to Alex now. He could barely make out Alex, who seemed to be murmuring to someone else, or on a different phone. It was hard to tell.

  “You’re the best, Fabian,” Jeremiah said dreamily. He just wanted to conk out and sleep through this labor thing, if it was all the same to everyone else.

  In the background, Alex was speaking rapidly to someone. Who else was he with? Then-oh, Alex was on the phone with some kind of dispatch. “-He’s pregnant, he’s thirty-two, he’s in a black Ford Escape by the candy factory, the map says the cross street is-”

  “Fabian, this sucks,” Jeremiah admitted on a whisper. He was really scared.

  “Someone’s going to be there so soon,” Fabian promised.

  “I want to talk to Alex.”

  “Hold on.”

  There was a shuffle, and then Alex softly saying, “Hi, sweetheart.”

  “Hi, Alex,” he said, face crumpling. He sniffled. “This was pretty stupid of me.”

  “Just hang on, okay? Just stay calm, and take care of the baby, and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  Jeremiah swallowed, sitting alone in the car in his soaked sweatpants, shaking and stupid.

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

  It was going to be okay, he told the baby silently. Alex said so. It was going to be okay.

  ***

  Even the paramedics were, in Jeremiah’s opinion, judgmental about the state they found him in.

  “Man, you must really love cherries,” one of the guys said.

  “They were for my boyfriend!” Jeremiah shrieked, having long since fallen to total pieces. His contractions were getting worse, or they had started at worse and now they were excruciating. “This is his fault, blame him.”

  By the time he got to the hospital, in Seerfield where he now wished a plague would befall it and all its people, he had quieted, breathing through his teeth. He gave them his name and his doctor’s name and Alex’s name and Penny’s name and then another contraction hit, this one bigger than all the ones before it combined, and time stuttered for a bit.

  He didn’t clock back in until a nurse was putting an IV in his arm.

  “This should calm you down,” she said confidently.

  “Shit,” he said after a while. He blinked, the world coming back into focus, but fuzzier. Rose-tinted. He liked whatever was in that IV.

  After a while he got bored, waiting on a wheelchair in the hallway for a room to open up. Then he started to get restless, and then he felt on the edge of making a scene.

  “Okay, calm down,” the nurse from earlier said, harried. “You’re next in line.”

  He was being wheeled into a room when there was some kind of shouting commotion down the hall. Slow, Jeremiah turned his head, curious despite himself to see some kind of hospital rumble in Seerfield take place. His vision was fuzzy, making him squint.

  “Carson!”

  It was Alex. He was loping madly down the hallway, heedless of the assorted medical personnel and equipment in his way. Jeremiah watched as he shoved between two interns, uncharacteristically rude, not even stopping to say sorry. His eyes were locked on Jeremiah like he was rushing to reach him across the deck of the Titanic. “Carson! Jeremiah!”

  Woozily, Jeremiah raised a hand. “Hey there, pretty lady.”

  Alex skidded to a stop at his side, hands fluttering around Jeremiah, clearly needing to touch but too conscientious of the IV and heart monitor and assorted medical detritus.

  Jeremiah grabbed his arm, pulling him down. “Alex. I didn’t have the baby yet.” It seemed crucial that Alex know that. It would kill him if he thought he missed the birth. “See?” He pointed at his belly, still very big and pregnant.

  “I see,” Alex said, wobbly.

  “Hey, let’s take this out of the hallway, okay?” the nurse suggested, smiling indulgently when Alex turned his wide, blinking eyes on her.

  “Is he okay?” he asked intently, still clutching Jeremiah’s hand. “Is the baby-is everything okay?”

  The nurse murmured something as Jeremiah drifted. The hallways smelled so weird. The feel of the scratchy blanket on his knees was so weird. He rested a hand on his heavy belly. Man. What a day.

  He drifted back in as Alex checked again, hoarsely, “He’s really okay?”

  “They’re both fine. Baby too.”

  “Thank god.” Jeremiah watched Alex rub at his eyes with a shaking hand, still holding on to Jeremiah with the other.

  He snickered to himself. “No, Alex. I’m dead. I’m talking to you from beyond the grave.”

  Alex glowered. “Jesus, Carson.” He straightened and let the nurse wheel him in, and helped Jeremiah up from the wheelchair and into the gurney, Jeremiah giving minimal effort, letting Alex mostly tow him up and around.

  When Jeremiah was settled, Alex pressed his hip on the edge, pressing his mouth to Jeremiah’s temple and just holding it there. His breathing was unsteady. “Jesus, Carson,” he repeated. He sobbed once, hard, then pulled away.

  Jeremiah hummed, trying to comfort him, even though he was feeling pretty out of it. “It’s okay.” He patted at Alex’s chest. “You’re okay.”

  “I’m pretty pissed at you right now,” Alex choked out.

  Jeremiah nodded. “Seems fair.”

  “Dammit, Carson.” He kissed him on the mouth, and then was when Dr. Stevens came in.

  He looked as calm and collected as Jeremiah had ever seen him. He wondered if his hair ever moved. It was like a little hat. Jeremiah giggled to himself.

  “I hear you had you two a little adventure today,” Dr. Stevens said, nodding at Jeremiah and his belly.

  The baby had stopped wiggling around quite so wildly since Jeremiah had been admitted and given the good drugs. He nodded, hand still tangled in Alex’s shirt. “Yes. He’s really mad at me.” He tugged on Alex’s shirt to demonstrate. “Super mad.”

  Alex rubbed at his eyes with the back of his wrist. “Not that mad,” he said, sniffing. He stuck out his free hand out to Dr. Stevens. “Hi. Hello. Thanks for coming in.”

  “Welcome to the board meeting, let’s get started,” Jeremiah murmured, snickering.

  Dr. Stevens smiled tolerantly at him. It was possibly the warmest expression Jeremiah had ever seen on his face. Jeremiah liked him a lot.

  “I bet you hear this from all the girls, but I like you,” Jeremiah told him dreamily.

  Through the fog of Feel Good, a pang hit Jeremiah in the side. “Shit,” he muttered. Slowly, like a wave building speed, the contracting broke over him, making him twist. “Shit.” He thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt as much anymore, but this hurt. It was slicing through the fine film that had been hugging him up until now.

  Alex clutched by his shoulder and his arm. “Jeremiah? Breathe, okay? Okay?” He sounded borderline as panicky as Jeremiah felt but he figured it probably wasn’t the time for notes right now.

  Dr. Stevens stepped up. “I think that’s our cue.”

  “He’s not coming with?” Jeremiah asked shrilly. He grabbed for Alex’s shirt snagging the hem and holding tight. “Why isn’t he coming with?”

  “He is,” Dr. Stevens assured him genially, checking a monitor above Jeremiah’s head. “Just needs to scrub up. We need to get you ready, and then he’ll meet you in there, and then we can get this party started.�
��

  “Don’t try to be a cool doctor now,” Jeremiah said witheringly. Nurses and a technician were moving around, detaching him from shit, adjusting the bed. There were too many people in this room. Way too many people. He whirled on Alex. “Alex Emerson Vane, you better get your ass in there as fast as human possible or I swear to god.” He couldn’t think of a threat bad enough so he just stared at him desperately, eyes prickling.

  Carefully untangling Jeremiah’s clenched fist from his shirt, Alex nodded, eyes still wet. He kissed Jeremiah’s knuckles, squeezing his hand once more before settling it on his chest. The nurses were already wheeling him away.

  Jeremiah whimpered. He missed the concerned haze of a few minutes ago. He wanted that back. This hyper-vigilance was for shit. “Alex.”

  “It’s okay,” Alex promised, already being led away to put on some scrubs, “You’re okay, I’ll be there so soon. I love you.”

  He wanted to mock him, say it wasn’t like Jeremiah was being deployed or anything, but all he could do was blink, terrified, watching Alex recede as they hurried him down the hallway.

  It was happening. It was now.

  ***

  “Our baby is a genius.”

  Jeremiah couldn’t stop looking at him. God, their baby was pretty.

  “He’s just holding your thumb,” Alex said, but he sounded awed, crowded up at Jeremiah’s shoulder staring just the same.

  He was so little, and quiet. He peered up at Jeremiah solemnly, blinking, nose twitching. He held onto Jeremiah’s thumb with all five fingers. He seemed very polite.

  Jeremiah had expected any child of his would be a hellion, but maybe he’d been too quick to assume being a drama-loving brat was a dominant gene.

  Ben tensed his tiny fingers around Jeremiah’s thumb, and Jeremiah marveled.

  “Ben is a really good name,” he admitted idly. “He looks just like a Ben. Nice choice.”

  Alex kissed the side of his head, not taking his eyes off the baby, off of Ben.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked Jeremiah softly. He’d been checking in every few minutes or so.

  Jeremiah’s whole body was sore, and he was so, so tired. Below his waist felt uncomfortable and tingly, and he desperately needed a shower.

  He shrugged, unable to truly complain with Ben just sitting there in his lap, placid and warm.

  “You did such a good job,” Alex said. He had an arm around Jeremiah, hugging him gently. He kept doing that too.

  Jeremiah couldn’t find it in him to mind any of it. He didn’t consider himself someone who had great luck, or really any luck. He was used to getting by on aggressive energy and brash moxy. He was so lucky.

  Fabian and Emily were outside, he knew, and his parents were on a plane. Alex had to step out soon and call his mom and step-mom and the rest of his family.

  Neither of them could seem to find it in them to get up. Jeremiah wanted it to just be them for a while longer. Their little family.

  He stared down at his baby, mesmerized. It really must be love.

  Fin

  Bonus Story

  A WORTHY COMPANION

  Reginald slowly pushed the door to the library open, eager to escape the flux of people energetically chattering away in the main rooms. He felt rude doing so but as he had only begrudgingly accepted the invitation to the party at his sister Marise’s insistence, he enjoyed Isaac Colton’s companionship, he had been a good friend for many years, but found such social gatherings pointless as one never got to have a good in depth conversation in such a manner.

  Hoping that no one saw the action he proceeded through the threshold, leaning against the door as he heard the subtle click as it closed. His sister would no doubt enjoy the night, seeing it as an opportunity to once more attach herself to Mr Harold Pemberton, whilst he would remained here for as long as his absence would go amiss.

  He was startled, having not yet moved away from the door, to be greeted by a voice by the fireplace, “Lord Rowe, so we meet again.” He recognized the deep voice, slightly accented but soothing in a way Reginald should find disconcerting and when he looked down the room he saw Mr Elias Sully had turned slightly from one of the arm chairs.

  “Sully, what a pleasant surprise!” Reginald beamed as it truly was a pleasure, “Must we always meet under such circumstances?”

  The older man’s lips quirked slightly and he nodded his head, “Perhaps one day we shall actually meet with the rest of the party.” He gestured to the chair beside him and Reginald happily moved forward off of the door to take it.

  “But then, I fear, our conversations would be derailed by social necessity,” The smaller man responded as he sank into the luxurious seat, turning to get a better view of his friend.

  “Indeed,” Sully acknowledged, “Society has habit of preventing ones desired cause of action.”

  Reginald smiled brightly at the man before him, “However it does have its benefits.”

  “Such as?”

  “Why the opportunity to meet new people, such as yourself, for we would not have met for it not for Miss Florentia Slade’s party last fall.”

  “I believe you are mistaken,” Sully said with a sly smile.

  “Oh?”

  “I believe we would not have met if not for our both trying to escape from one Miss Slade’s party.”

  Chuckling slightly at the memory, “Ah yes, our first meeting.”

  “I believe on that occasion it wasIwho came creeping into the library seeking seclusion to findyouby the fire mulling over a glass of brandy.”

  Sully and Reginald had first met as described, finding the atmosphere too much and trying to find solace, only to find each other. They had had a pleasant evening conversing over simple matters that got into rather invigorating arguments regarding politics and science before they had been interrupted and forced to re-join the party. It was to be another month until another party allowed them to meet again, once again finding each other away from the rabble of the party, but that night in the garden. There coincidental meetings had re-occurred in the following few months but as it stood it had been two months since their last meeting and Reginald found himself welcoming it. The possibility of conversing with Sully was often the only reason to go to social galas of late.

  “I find I have the best conversations in seclusion,” Reginald admitted earning him a pointed stair from the other man, “Do you not agree?” he added belatedly feeling a slight blush threatening from the intensity of it.

  Sully considered him for a moment, “I do in fact. Most invigorating.”

  “I feel absurd hiding away, at times, as all those present are well-acquainted with me and I consider most good friends.”

  “All?” Sully asked raising an eyebrow and Reginald was forced to think of some of the members of the current party he was less so inclined to like, namely the Worthing’s.

  “Perhaps not,” Reginald amended, “Almost all.”

  That pulled a small snigger from the other man, “I cannot presume to fathom who you are referring to,” Sully said, a glint in his eye saying exactly how much he knew, “Remind me again, how you are acquainted with the Worthing’s?”

  “Family ties. My family and his were close in generations past, now it seems more obligation to maintain the pretence.”

  “Ah, of course.”

  “And yourself?”

  The other man’s face soured slightly, “Let us say that not all the men one meets in business are through choice and I would not choose to meet him out of it.”

  The Sully’s were an established family for a few generations now but they had grown from the dirt unlike the Rowe’s who had been aristocracy as far back as one could remember. Subtle reminders like this worked well for Reginald who often forgot that for some managing the estates was not the only line of business to attend to.

  “How goes the business?”

  “Well, as usual.”

  “I am glad of it.” Reginald smiled back drawing a subtle nod from the
other. Many disliked Sully due to his seemingly cold demeanor but Reginald had always found him to be an open sort and enjoyed being able to extract small smiles and indications that the other was enjoying himself most thoroughly. They let the conversation pass the time, sighing when the clock on the mantel struck eleven signaling they had been secluded far too long and the main party would soon start to dissipate.

  “Society calls,” the taller man chuckled darkly, “I fear our presence will soon be missed.”

  “Yes, of course, Marise no doubt will start looking for me when she wishes to depart.”

  “Well then, until the next,” He nodded at him.

  Sully stood with a sigh, looking reluctantly to the door and Reginald leapt at the opportunity as the idea formulated in his head, “Sully, you should come to the manor sometime for a visit, perhaps then we can have an undisturbed conversation.”

  It drew a small smile from the other man who hastily responded, “Indeed, I shall look forward to it.”

  “As shall I,” he said with a true smile, also rising, “Come whenever you are able, business very rarely takes me away from the estate.”

  They left the library together and nodded briefly in goodbye as they went their separate ways in the room, Reginald to find Marise and Sully to undoubtedly congratulate the host on such a lovely evening. Unsurprisingly, he found his sister chatting amicably still with Mr Pemberton who seemed invested but looked drawn, so he decided to intervene on his behalf.

  “Harold! My lad, you must be exhausted, how many hours was the carriage ride over?”

  “Only a few,” the shy man admitted but Marise gathered herself quickly.

  “Then you must go rest,” She said taking his hand, “Besides myself and my brother need to be heading back.” There had been the option to stay the night for those coming from father a field but the Rowe estate was only an hour from the Colton’s and so they had opted to return that evening.

  Harold rose to his feet at the same time as Marise and offered her a hand to their carriage, “It has been a pleasure, my lady,” he said as she entered. She blushed slightly at the compliment as did the other.