Heavyweight Daddy: An Mpreg Romance

by Austin Bates

  Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he shuffled the cards Kim had given him. His speech was carefully planned to paint the situation and the organization in the best possible light. He hated every word of it.

  "Eli? We're almost ready."

  Eli nodded at Kim and tried to focus on a spot on the floor just in front of the podium. He wasn't going to be taking any questions today, and he didn't want to see any of their faces.

  "Eli," Kim said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  "No." Eli managed a shaky smile. "But what choice do I have? Talbot's right. I'll never be able to come back to this if I'm busy taking care of a baby."

  "Van could–"

  "I can't count on Van to stay. This isn't what he wanted. It's not fair to the fans or the organization to drag this out." That was a line of the speech, he realized. Card seventeen.

  Kim nodded. She'd put on more lipstick, but it was already looking rough around the edges. "We'll make this okay."

  "Yeah," he said.

  Neither of them believed it.

  "Let's get this over with," she said, stepping up to the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Thompson has an announcement that he would like to make. We won't be taking questions, but I will endeavor to answer any questions you have after Eli is finished."

  Stepping up to the microphone felt like climbing Mt. Everest. It loomed over him, larger than life, as he tried to keep his hands from shaking so that he could read the stupid cards.

  "Hello, everyone, and thanks for coming today," he said. One card down, twenty-six to go. "I requested this conference to make a very important announcement. I regret that this is coming so close to the much anticipated fight, and I know how disappointed my fans are going to be." Card two fluttered to the floor.

  At the back of the room, the door opened. Eli glanced up, stopping in shock when Van stepped into the room. He looked windblown and frazzled, his shirt collar sticking up on one side and his jeans smeared with black.

  "I am..." Tearing his eyes back to the cards, Eli choked out the next line. "I am so sorry for any inconvenience to the organization that I've caused, but as of today..." He stared at the words on the card. Three words, short and painless. "As of today, I..."

  He looked up again, his eyes welling with tears as he took in Van's face. There was a dirty streak down one side of his face, and he looked tanned and gorgeous.

  "I am..." Eli swallowed. "I'm pregnant," he said, dropping the cards. "The Championship match had to be canceled because I'm pregnant."

  The reporters immediately began shouting questions, and Eli couldn't hear a word of it, watching Van's eyes widen in shock. This was it. This was the moment that Eli broke everything. He couldn't look.

  He ducked his head down and stared at the spot of carpet in front of the podium, waiting for Kim to come rescue him like she always did. He wasn't expecting Van to be there, pulling him into a tight hug as cameras flashed all around them.

  "What are you doing?" Van said, kissing him hard before Eli could answer. Van tasted like pina colada's and sunshine, and Eli clung to him like a starving man.

  When he couldn't go without breathing any longer, he broke the kiss, staring at Van. "I have to retire."

  Van frowned. "You have to retire? Why? Because you're pregnant? That's against the law."

  "I won't be able to fight with a baby," Eli said.

  "Well, sure, but you'll be back on the circuit in what? Less than a year. Natalie will have you whipped back into shape in no time." Van was staring at him in confusion. "Jesus, you're having a baby. We're having a baby. Papa's going to be on the next plane when he finds out."

  "I can't fight while I'm... Wait, you're staying?" Knotting his fists in Van's shirt, Eli pressed their foreheads together and tried not to cry.

  "Of course I'm staying," Van said, his voice going soft.

  "I wasn't sure." Eli choked on a sob, forcing himself to stop before he started crying on national TV.

  "Be sure," Van said firmly.

  "I'm going to be a terrible papa."

  "You'll be fine. You should hear the stories Papa tells of when I was a baby. I survived living in a yurt in western Canada with no running water for a year, and I turned out decent enough." Van pulled him in for another kiss, licking his way into Eli's mouth until Eli melted against him.

  "You really think I can get back in the ring?" Eli asked a moment later, panting into Van's neck as he ignored all the people watching.

  "Man, if Martin Ilvanni could run the Boston Marathon within a month of giving birth, then you should be back in the ring by this time next year, no problem." Van smiled, stroking his hand over Eli's stomach. "Natalie and Kim will make sure of it."

  "Natalie's mad," Eli said quietly. "She thought I failed a drug test."

  "She'll get over it," Van said firmly. "You love boxing. You can't honestly tell me that you want to retire."

  "No."

  "Then don't. You got this, baby. I'm behind you all the way." Brushing Eli's cheeks gently, Van turned him back to the podium, walking him over there and standing at his side. "Sorry for the delay, folks. We have an announcement we'd like to make."

  Eli glanced at him, his stomach churning. He couldn't do this, but he couldn't imagine not. "I want to apologize to the fans who will be disappointed by the cancellation of the fight," Eli said, his voice shaking. Van laced their fingers together, and he sucked in a deep breath. "I promise, on this day next year, I'll be back for this fight."

  "Yes!" Kim whooped, jumping into the air, and the reporters began talking over one another trying to ask questions.

  Eli ignored all of it, staring at Van with a smile starting to stretch across his face. Maybe it would be okay.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Van juggled the grocery bags, trying to pull his keys out of his pocket. "Yes, Papa, Eli's fine."

  "I'm just concerned because he's been so lonely since we left," Papa said, his voice distracted. They were in Los Angeles for Lion's newest press tour, and Van knew how much Papa loved the art scene there.

  "He's just pouting because Natalie banned him from the gym," Van said, finally getting the front door open. Personally, he was surprised that she'd waited as long as she had. Now in his second trimester, Eli's slowly expanding belly had thrown his balance off entirely. "I'm home," he called, heading for the kitchen. "Papa says hi."

  There was no answer, even though he could hear the TV playing in the living room. "I'll call you back, Papa."

  "We can come back, you know," Papa said, his voice sharp. "Or one of your brothers can come stay. It'll do Solomon good to get out of his routine."

  "God, no," Van said before he could stop himself. "If you make Solomon travel for me again so soon, he'll never forgive me."

  "Your brother is not that bad."

  "Sometimes I think you really believe that, Papa. Besides, I've got a plan. I'll call you back later, okay." Van shoved the ice cream into the freezer; the rest could wait.

  "Alright, dear. Oh, but not tonight. There's an art show, and then your Dad is taking me to a concert. And tomorrow we're going to the beach so our reception might be spotty. Maybe Friday? But before lunch, because we've got to get ready for that party your brother is throwing..."

  "We'll work something out, Papa," he said, leaning against the doorway of the living room. Eli didn't look up, his eyes glazed as he slumped on the couch watching a home decorator put hideous orange drapes in some woman's living room. "I gotta go."

  "Love you, sweetie."

  "Love you, Papa." Hanging up before Papa could remember something else, Van tossed his phone on the coffee table and sat down next to Eli. "How was your day?"

  Eli grumbled but didn't resist as Van tugged him into a hug, tucking his head into Van's neck.

  "Those are really ugly curtains," Van commented idly, stroking his hand over Eli's hair.

  "Yeah," Eli said, picking at the blanket on his lap. "I liked the last room she did better."

  "Did you eat to
day?" He pressed a kiss to Eli's head, then leaned down to kiss the drum-tight skin of his belly. "Hello, kiddo."

  "Kind of." Eli shrugged, lacing his fingers through Van's on his stomach. "Breakfast didn't stick, but I kept lunch down."

  "Awesome. Seems like the morning sickness is finally backing off." Van ran his thumb back and forth over Eli's belly button, his favorite part of the whole adorably swollen picture. He especially liked the way Eli couldn't help but smile because it tickled. "We should celebrate. Why don't we go out for dinner? My treat."

  Eli perked up, eying him suspiciously. "Like where?"

  "You tell me. I feel like pasta."

  "The Venetian," he said, after a moment. Caesar's has a bigger buffet, but the Venetian is more focused. Also, closer to the parking lot." Lips twitching in a small smile, Eli patted his belly. "I got vertigo just walking to the bathroom earlier. Apparently, this one is lazy."

  "She's allowed," Van teased.

  "He's making Papa fat," Eli said, laughing when Van rolled his eyes. "No, really. I've gained a whole sixteen pounds."

  "Baby, that's all kid." Van got to his feet, pulling Eli up as well and stealing a kiss. "Go get dressed so we can go. I'll tell Kim to meet us there."

  Eli paused. "Is she in town?"

  Grinning, Van shooed Eli toward the bedroom. "Yeah," he said, keeping his voice bland. "She said something about some big media opportunity. You know Kim, she's always up to something."

  "She's going to run the world one of these days," Eli grumbled as he walked down the hall.

  "Our daughter can help," Van called.

  "Our son will call her Auntie and be in awe of her lipstick," Eli retorted.

  Shaking his head, Van glanced around. While Eli had technically moved in the week after his last press conference, he'd had so little luggage. It was only since Van's family had left that little signs of him had started appearing around the house. The blanket was a gift from Natalie, and there was a picture of them hanging on the wall that Kim had poached from the Times and framed.

  When Papa had heard about what happened, the family had descended upon them like a plague, flooding Van's house with mess and noise. Even Solomon had shown up, disgruntled and cranky until he saw Eli's nervous smile. The one trait of Papa's that they had all ended up with, much to Dad's chagrin, was a need to take in every stray that they saw. Eli's vulnerability had kicked them all into high gear.

  Eli had been overwhelmed at first, bursting into tears when Papa had pulled him into a hug. When Ben had shyly presented them with a teddy bear that he'd gotten from a crafty friend at college, Van had known that his family had won Eli over.

  Three weeks later, he'd finally gotten rid of the last of them. That had been two months ago, and Van lived in constant terror of Papa's threats to come back.

  He was right about one thing though. Eli was bored and lonely. Kim had been back and forth to New York, working on keeping Eli's career going and keeping the media out of their business. Natalie had gone to visit her mother in Miami for Thanksgiving, promising to be back before he got too big to see his toes.

  For days, Van had been mulling over possible solutions, and then it had hit him.

  "Does this look okay?" Eli stood at the end of the hall, tugging at the hem of a t-shirt that kept trying to ride up over his belly. He was too tall and muscular for most omega maternity clothes, so they'd had to stick with loose sweats and t-shirts. It was almost time to get a bigger size.

  "You look perfect, beautiful." Van pulled an oversized hoodie out of the closet and let Eli pull it on. "Papa's threatening to come visit for Christmas," he added, wrapping his arms around Eli's waist so that he could feel the baby press against his own stomach.

  Eli slanted a look at him. "Just your parents?"

  Laughing, Van shook his head. "Ben always stays with them over breaks, and Amy usually visits at least for Christmas Day. Lion will come if there's not a movie opening that weekend, and the other two will wander in and out."

  Eyes wide, Eli shuddered. "Next year?"

  "Sounds like a plan, baby," Van said, tugging him toward the door. "Come on, I'm hungry."

  The desert was brisk in early December, making them shiver whenever they passed out of direct sunlight. Van was hoping to get Eli into the car before he noticed the blank spot in the yard, but Eli was too quick for him.

  "I thought they were delivering my car today?"

  Van smiled. "It's getting detailed," he lied through his teeth. "It smelled like cigarettes."

  Shaking his head, Eli snorted. "I thought it was pregnant people who hallucinated smells."

  "I'm sensitive, what can I say?" Van herded his lover into the car, his shoulders tense. Climbing in, he made a show of glancing in the back and cursed. "Crap. I forgot about the balls. You don't mind if we drop these off first, do you? I was supposed to do it on the way home."

  Eli craned his neck to look at the crates of sports equipment in the backseat. "Why do you have an entire rec center in your car?"

  "It's a donation for St. James," he said, pulling out onto the road. "The kids will kill me if I don't get this stuff there for the tournament tomorrow. It's the game of the season."

  "What game?" Eli asked, his eyebrow raised.

  Glancing at the crates in the rear view mirror, Van grinned. There were balls of all kinds overflowing the containers. There were even hockey pucks somewhere in the bottom. "I have no idea. I think soccer, but it could be football. Miguel wasn't specific."

  "Okay," Eli said slowly.

  "Hey, we should go. The kids would love having more people there to cheer them on." Van turned down the street and watched Eli out of the corner of his eye.

  Resting a hand on his belly, Eli swallowed hard. "You think that would be okay?"

  "They'll love it. You'll see. Here we are," he said, pulling into one cracked parking spot. "You want to come in? They'll have the heat on."

  Eli eyed the building critically. "I can wait here."

  "No problem," Van said cheerfully. "I'll just be a minute. I think the kickboxing class should be just about over."

  "They teach kickboxing?" Leaning forward, Eli's eyes traced the cracked concrete and peeling paint of the well-loved and perpetually underfunded community center. "Kevin taught me some kickboxing."

  "You're supposed to stay out of the gym," Van scolded, hiding his smirk behind a crate of balls as Eli frowned mulishly. "Just wait here, and I'll run these in."

  Struggling out of the car, Eli made it to the door before Van. "I'll just wait inside where it's warm," he said when Van caught up.

  "Whatever you say, baby," Van said, grinning broadly behind Eli's back.

  The center wasn't nearly as full as it would be tomorrow, but there were still quite a few kids studying and practicing. The classrooms to the left all had big windows, so it was easy to see the ten or twelve kids wearing hand-me-down workout clothes who were clumsily emulating the tiny man at the front of the room.

  Eli drifted closer to the window as Van set the crate down on the table by the door. A couple of the older kids nodded greetings to him and he winked at them. Pointing to Eli, he gestured for the oldest boy, an alpha named Jeremiah, to keep an eye on him. He was a good kid, almost eighteen and dominant without being overbearing, and he puffed up with pride at the responsibility.

  Three crates later, Eli was still at the window, watching the kids with narrowed eyes.

  "So," Van said, coming up behind him, "how do they measure up?" Jeremiah watched them surreptitiously, only pretending to do his homework.

  "They're not bad. A couple of them could be good with work," Eli said without looking away. "He's got the wrong kids on the bags though. The little one on the left isn't landing his punches right, and he's going to strain his wrist. The older kid in the middle should be on a speed bag to build endurance."

  "They don't have one," Van said, laughing when Eli turned to him indignantly.

  "What do you mean they don't have one? At all?"
r />   "Nope. I think they used to, but it broke, and they just never considered it a priority."

  "Not a priority?" Eli gestured wildly, tipping a little as his belly threw him off balance. "How do they expect kids to get into the junior leagues without developing their speed and accuracy?"

  "This is just an afterschool program, Eli. These kids are only here to kill time till their parents can pick them up," Van said soothingly, tucking him against his side to steady him.

  "No," Eli said, pulling away. "You have no idea what this place is. Kids that come here, they don't have some big life plan. Sometimes they're shitty at school and fail math three times in a row, but they can come to the gym and be good at something for once. If you don't care enough to give them the tools to get better at what they're good at, then who will? Not the government. Not the schools. Not the college entrance boards, because nobody cares about kids like that." Breathing heavily, he rested a hand on his stomach and glared.

  Van stared at him, his mouth hanging open. "I love you," he said, his voice echoing off the concrete.

  Taking a deep breath to launch into another impassioned speech, Eli registered the words with a shocked squeak. "What?"

  "You're amazing and I love you," Van said, cupping Eli's cheeks in his hand and kissing him.

  "Gross," one of the younger kids said. "You're not allowed to kiss in here, Mister."

  Laughing into the kiss, Van pulled back enough to glance at Jeremiah.

  The teenager shrugged, "It's a rule."

  "I'm buying them a speed bag," Eli said.

  "Okay," Van said, still laughing.

  "And some more heavy bags."

  "Okay."

  "And some new equipment."

  Clutching his stomach, Van nodded, too out of breath to speak.

  Jeremiah rolled his eyes. "Where are we gonna put all this stuff, man? We're out of room as it is."

  Eli froze, his eyes widening. Swallowing hard, he glanced at Van. "I could build a gym?" he said tentatively.

  "Okay, baby," Van said pulling him in for another kiss. "Whatever you want."