by Aiden Bates
That was true, I guessed. That was a real concern. The last thing I wanted was to do anything that might make it more likely for me to burden Charlie.
“I’ll tell you what,” Dr. Smith said, punching something into his phone, probably the front desk. “Let’s order the scan and let me look at your meds to see if there’s any kind of minor adjustments we might be able to make. If I see any reason to change your dose, I’ll have the front desk call you with an updated prescription. How does that sound?”
“Good, I guess.” I probably sounded like I was all of fifteen years old. I liked Dr. Smith a lot. He put me at ease. He made me feel understood. I had just been hoping for a one-and-done kind of fix.
“Good,” Dr. Smith said, agreeing with me as he chuckled softly. “In the meantime? Rest. Relax. Practice mindfulness. Manage your stress levels. Be honest with your partner about what you can handle and what you can’t handle. Slow and steady wins the race, Pedro.”
“Yes, doctor,” I said, ultimately still grateful but less than happy with his recommendations.
I was still less than happy as I got dressed again, and utterly unhappy as I scheduled a follow-up and the scan Dr. Smith wanted. I was actually irritated as I left the clinic and started walking back to the apartment.
So irritated in fact, that I almost completely forgot I’d told Charlie I was going to bring us home food.
“Damnit,” I swore, turning around in the opposite direction to head for the Chinese place. That was close. If I’d forgotten, Charlie would have been suspicious of where I’d been, and I’d might have been caught.
That wasn’t how I wanted my relationship with Charlie to be. We definitely had to talk about this, about the full extent of my symptoms at some point, just like Marcos had told me to when I had first moved in with Charlie.
When I got to the restaurant, I squinted up at the picture menu high above the counter. “Uh… A number eight, and a…uh…number five? With chicken lo mein? Instead of rice?” That’s what Charlie liked, right?
As I waited for my order, I shook my head. I just didn’t want to tell Charlie about my issues right now. We both had enough to worry about, and besides, I was scared Charlie wouldn’t just worry about something happening to me. I was scared I would give him cause to worry about my ability to be a good father in the first place.
For example, if Charlie knew I might have a seizure he’d worry I would have one. What I dreaded was the idea of Charlie not trusting me to hold the babies for fear I might drop one if I had a seizure. That felt different, that felt worse. That felt too close to the kinds of things I privately worried about, and I couldn’t stand the idea that Charlie might think as little of me as I sometimes did when I was frustrated with my own shortcoming.
I grabbed the paper bag from the counter, paid, and pushed my way out through the door and into the street. Once I was on the sidewalk, I started to walk home.
It was only then that it occurred to me, with absolute, horrifying clarity that I didn’t know where I lived.
Fuck!
I looked around me, knowing it was just a matter of getting my bearings, of asking for directions, of asking someone who would know, but I didn’t know who to ask.
Charlie. I could ask Charlie.
Balancing the Chinese food in one hand, I pulled out my phone from my pocket, but the worry and fear I had just felt about what Charlie would be like once he knew the truth about me, sent a cold chill down my spine. I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t worry him. I put my phone away and looked around again.
Come on, Acosta. Come on. Maybe just walk up and down the street a little until something looks familiar and head that way.
I nodded and took a couple of deep breaths. The important thing I had to remember was that I could handle this. I could do this on my own. I was an alpha with two babies on the way. I had to be dependable. All I had to do was walk around until I found out where I lived. I could do that.
Just one foot in front of the other. One step at a time. That was my life anyway, wasn’t it, taking one step, one day at a time. Isn’t that what the doctor said?
And so I started to walk.
25
Charlie
I tried to remind myself to be objective. Teddy always told me to look at the facts, so I tried.
Fact one: One of Pedro’s medications, Rivastigmine, was a medication prescribed for memory loss. Could it possibly be for some other reason? I didn’t know. I wasn’t a doctor. But given the fact that Marcos had just asked me about his memory, chances were good I was on the right track with assuming the brain injury from the explosion, the coma, something had caused him to lose some memory.
Fact two: Pedro had never told me about any of this. I replayed all our conversations in my head, both before and after I’d gotten pregnant, and not once was there any reference to his memory loss. That was…not great, but if Pedro didn’t want to tell me, I guessed he didn’t have to. Well, up unto the point he learned we were pregnant. That made a difference as far as I was concerned. How would Pedro’s condition affect having two little babies crawling around everywhere? Maybe it wouldn’t affect it at all. Or maybe it would, and it would be something we had to figure out and plan around. But who actually knew because, again, Pedro hadn’t told me any of it.
Fact three: I had no idea where the hell Pedro was. I kept toying with my phone, debating about whether or not I should call him. It had been hours. Way longer than he usually stayed out. If I called him, there was no way I was going to be able to keep all of this inside, and it was all going to come pouring out in one big worried mess. If I didn’t call him, I’d have no idea where he was until he got home, and between now and then the big worried mess would just get larger and larger.
I was in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee when the door clicked open. Mug forgotten, I turned around to see Pedro standing near the doorway, the bag of Chinese food clutched in his hand. He frowned for a moment before tossing the bag down on the counter then pulling at his jacket. After a moment of grumbling he managed to wrestle it off.
“Hey. I was starting to get worried. What took you so long?” I asked, coming toward him.
Pedro muttered something, but it was too fast for me to make out.
“Hey, what is it? Are you okay?”
“I am so fucking sick of everyone asking me if I’m okay. Of all people, shouldn’t you understand that?”
Whoa. Okay. That was new.
“Shit, Charlie. I’m sorry. That was out of line. Like so out of line.”
It hurt my feelings. Of course it did, but I tried to remind myself not to react with how I was feeling. Pedro was clearly stressed out about something, and I was definitely feeling the side-effects of pregnancy hormones lately. Besides, I’d just learned that in addition to the memory medication, Pedro was on mood stabilizers. It was definitely not the time to indulge in a screaming match.
“It’s okay,” I said quietly. I wasn’t sure whether to keep going or not, but it needed to be out there in the open otherwise I was going to pop. I took a breath. “Pedro, have you been having problems with your memory?”
It was quiet for a beat.
“What?” Pedro asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. “No, of course not. Why would you think—”
“Rivastigmine. It’s a drug for dementia patients to help them with memory loss. It’s one of the drugs in the medicine cabinet.”
“Oh? You’re going through my medicine cabinet now?”
I could tell it was an attempt to change the subject, but I didn’t want to get distracted or angry.
“Sweetheart, I know you had a brain injury. When the dust settled after you got back from Malmur, it was all anyone talked about. Marcos was up there every day and Garret and Roman gave us updates all the time, and then Mitch did. I’ve always known. I’m not trying to pick a fight. I just want to have an honest conversation about it, okay?”
Pedro didn’t say anything for a long time. I thought maybe he was about to have
an angry outburst or leave. Instead, he started to shake. After a moment, I realized there were tears in his eyes. My heart broke a little.
“Charlie. I promise, I’m not broken. I’m still healing, sure, but I swear by the time the babies get here—”
“Pedro, hey, no. No, no, no. Of course, I don’t think you’re broken. I know better than that. You’ve been amazing over the last few months, and I don’t think I could cope with the babies without you. You’re not broken. I know that. I just want to know why we haven’t already talked about this. About the lapses, the seizures. I need to know this stuff, Pedro.”
Pedro nodded and covertly wiped his nose while I continued. “If we’re going to be a couple, partners, parents, then we have to be honest about this stuff. Okay? If we’re going to be there for each other and help each other we have to know what we’re facing, what battles we’re fighting.”
I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist.
“I love you,” I said, firmly. “I do, Pedro.”
“And I love you, Charlie. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about everything. Mostly about the fucking Chinese food.”
“What? What’s wrong with the Chinese food?”
Pedro grabbed the bag and sat the bottom in my hands.
“Notice anything?” he asked.
“Umm, no?”
“Exactly. It’s stone cold. I got it hours ago.”
I put the food back on the counter behind me. “So why didn’t you come home straight away?”
“I was on the way back, but I just…blanked. I couldn’t remember the way home. Like at all. I couldn’t find it. So I thought I’d just walk about until something looked familiar. But I ended up in The Market and had to turn around and come back.”
From Kings Park, where we lived, to The Market was several miles. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be in Pedro’s shoes and have your own brain turn against you.
“God, Pedro. I’m just glad you’re okay. I’m glad you came home.” I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him, hoping I was giving him some comfort, some support. All this time I’d been wondering about whether to call him. If I had, I would have been able to come and get him.
“I’m fucked up, Charlie. Real fucked up.” The tears were back. I wanted to reach up and wipe them away, but I was afraid Pedro would break right apart if I didn’t keep my arms around him. “I’m trying so hard not to be. It’s just… God, Charlie, when my memory goes, it’s just…gone. Absolutely gone. It’s terrifying. I just want to be able to take care of Jason’s omega—”
“No, stop.” This wasn’t going to do. This had to stop. It had to or I was going to be the one breaking apart. “I’m not Jason’s omega, Pedro. Not anymore. I’m your omega.” I didn’t know what else to do, so I took his broad hand and brought it to my stomach. “This is our family in there, okay? They’re ours, Pedro. And I’m yours. You’re mine. Alright? You got that?”
Pedro watched his hand on my stomach, transfixed, and nodded along again, this time as if assuring himself that what I was saying was the truth. I hugged him again and ran my hands soothingly up and down his spine. Eventually, his breathing slowed to steady, deeper breaths. I pulled back and took his face in my hands, feeling his stubble against my palms.
“Hey, next time? You call me, okay? We’ll get you a special, ‘if lost please contact’ shirt or something.” Pedro laughed wetly. “I’m serious though. We’ll figure it out. I’m here for you, through and through.”
“Through and through,” Pedro agreed.
I leaned forward and kissed him. I meant for it to be something sweet, simple, but all the loneliness from the last few days bubbled over, and I began kissing him with a mix of fervor and unadulterated necessity. I didn’t just want Pedro. I needed him. I needed to know he was with me in a way he hadn’t been in days. I also needed him to know I was with him for the long haul, that whatever obstacles we needed to overcome, I’d be there at his side, that I loved him and would always support him.
Pedro moaned and melted against me. It was almost like the weight of his secret had lifted, and he was now able to relax more than he ever had before.
I parted my lips, and he instantly swept his tongue inside my mouth. I groaned and he kissed me harder, until my lips felt swollen and bruised. I clutched at him, taking some of the strength he always carried despite everything he’d had to endure. He pulled back just a little, his breathing heavy, and then started trailing little openmouthed kisses down my throat, my shoulder, pushing aside my t-shirt so he could get to my collarbones, which always sent tiny shivers down my spine.
Encouraged by my soft moans he brushed his thumbs up under my shirt to trace the line of my waistband, and then dip into my pants. He palmed my cock, and my hips bucked up into the pressure almost of their own accord.
“That feels nice,” I said on another moan. “But it’s not what I want.”
“What is it you want, angel? You can have it. You just have to say.”
“I want you in my mouth,” I told him. His eyes widened before his mouth sealed back over mine in a hot dirty kiss. When he drew back he was grinning.
“Well, I’m a man of my word,” he said, pulling his hand back gently.
I gave him a playful shove. “Yeah, look at you, always so thoughtful,” I said, rolling my eyes.
I sank to my knees and that alone was enough to have Pedro groaning.
“Oh, fuck, Charlie. You have no idea how you look,” he said.
“How’s that?” I asked, plucking at his belt and drawing it slowly through its loops.
“Gorgeous. And…deceptive.”
“Deceptive?” I undid the button of his fly and slowly drew the zipper down.
“Y-yeah. Definitely deceptive. You always look so…soft. Nice. You look sweet. And you are sweet. You are.”
My face must have shown my confusion at what he was trying to say because he nodded quickly.
“Babies love you and my mami loves you, and I bet random woodland animals love you…”
I think I knew what he was getting at now, so I smiled, sweetly, before snaking my hand into his boxers and pulling out his cock.
“Which is what makes you look so…sweet, but then you also look—”
I lapped gently at the head of his cock; little kittenish licks that weren’t meant to do much more than tease.
“Oh, Charlie, fuck, yes. You… You also look…debauched. And that, dios mio, makes it even better somehow.”
“Does it?” I asked, peering up at him.
“Yes, baby. Holy shit. Yesss,” he hissed as I took him into my mouth.
The taste of him, the feel of him, always made me want more. I guided his cock deeper into my mouth, reveling in the groans I drew from him, the way he clutched at my hair, the way he couldn’t help but sometimes thrust his cock down my throat. This was my Pedro, the man who gave me pleasure while I pleasured him.
When I drew back to take some air, he tugged me to my feet and quickly kissed me before he started ripping off my sweats. I didn’t stop him, wondering where he was going with this, but I giggled when, once he had me naked below the waist, he hoisted me onto the kitchen counter.
“You know, we eat here,” I said.
“Mmm, not right now. Another time,” Pedro promised with a wink.
I laughed, but it was cut short when Pedro came in close enough for our cocks to rub together. He wrapped his hand around us both, and we watched as he stripped them tight and fast.
“Pedro,” I groaned. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d gotten from sucking him off until now. I tilted my head back against the cabinet. From this position I couldn’t get good leverage to pump my hips up into his fist, but Pedro was doing more than enough to quickly get me to the point of release.
“That’s it, angel. Come on. Come for me.”
I said something that might have been Pedro’s name but could have also been pure gibberish as sparks shot through every nerve and my balls drew up. I groaned
then held my breath, teetering on the edge, that wonderful, intense edge… And then I was coming in hard, rapid, hot pulses, splashing all over Pedro’s hand and cock. Pedro didn’t slow down, just kept pumping, my slippery cum easing the way, until a few seconds later he let go with a hoarse shout.
I leaned forward and drew his mouth to mine to absorb his moans while he jerked in my arms.
After, I leaned my forehead against his.
“Missed you,” I whispered.
“Missed you, too, Charlie.”
26
Pedro
In the week after I’d had to admit to Charlie that my memory wasn’t what it had been before the accident, I started to understand little by little why everyone had been right about telling Charlie about my medical issues.
I’d been lucky I hadn’t had anything major happen in the time between when we moved in together to my lapse at the ultrasound. Really lucky. But I’d also been selfish.
I hadn’t wanted to tell him because I’d been terrified he’d leave me. I should have known he wouldn’t, but that kind of terror doesn’t really have intelligent thinking behind it.
The truth, though, had allowed us to have a conversation I’d needed. He had called himself my omega instead of Jason’s, and it had instantly felt like he was rubbing balm on an open wound, soothing the sting, mending what may never have healed otherwise.
I was Charlie’s. There had never been any question about that, but there was always that little prickle under my skin that had told me Charlie wasn’t mine. But he told me he was, he’d told me he was my omega.
My omega. My Charlie. My twins with Charlie. My life with Charlie.
It would have been good if I wasn’t still worrying that my physical complications were only going to get worse, that maybe they were triggered by stress. With the baby happening, then I was going to get stressed, even if I tried not to, it was inevitable, which meant we ran a risk of complications every day. But at least I wasn’t facing those things alone anymore. I was facing them with the best teammate anyone could have hoped for. And Charlie, instead of worrying about it or being burdened by what might go wrong, he’d shown me how foolish I’d been to ever keep anything from him by throwing himself into the situation full-throttle. Like now.