Baby For My Omega (MPreg Hospital Book 1)

by Dex Bass

  “Because I think it’s too painful for you, pretending I’m your lover when I only want to be your friend and your coworker, not your lover.”

  “Adam, I’ve wanted you ever since we started working together. I smelled your alpha pheromones from the first day we leaned over the same omega patient together. There were supposed to be no alphas in the room, but I smelled you. And I’ve wanted you since then.”

  “I know. Which is why this fake relationship thing is not a great idea.”

  “Adam. I’ve always—”

  “Ollie, can you do us both a favor and cover up? You want a towel? Or just put some shorts on? I’m sorry. But it feels strange telling you that we can’t be lovers if you’re standing in front of me naked showing off your cock and ass.”

  “I was hoping I could convince you—”

  “I know you were hoping to convince me, Ollie. You’re a great guy. But really. It’s not you I want to mate with. I’m sorry. You’re my great friend and my great coworker. But it’s not you I want as a mate. Really.”

  “You don’t want me as your mate, so who do you want?” Ollie asked it as if he were the only possible choice, as if any other choice would be sheer foolishness.

  “Ollie. I—”

  “No, it’s not that guy, is it?”

  “Ollie, I want—”

  “That omega who sauntered out of your examination room that day sweaty and looking like you’d just impregnated him? Oscar, was that his name?”

  “I’m sorry, Ollie.”

  “That guy? Seriously? Seriously, Adam?” Ollie shook his head. “After all our years together?”

  “Ollie. We’ve been coworkers. Coworkers is not mates.”

  “I just felt like we had something more. Doctor Albright. Adam.” Ollie’s voice quivered.

  “That’s what was worrying me. I’m glad at least we got it out of the way so it can’t go any deeper. So, Ollie. You’re a great friend, but you’re not my romantic mate, ok?”

  Ollie shook his head in disbelief. His cock was flaccid. His nipples were no longer standing like small skyscrapers. Head down, he walked away to the table on which he’d left his spandex outfit, and put it back on.

  “Ollie, I’m sorry, but—” Adam called out after him. Ollie had already put on his bicycling outfit. Ollie only shook his head, got on his bike, and started slowly pedaling toward the exit gate. He was probably intentionally giving Adam enough time to go open the electronically controlled door. Adam took the opportunity to get out of Ollie’s sight and go back inside, to tap the button that opened the gate.

  Through the kitchen window, Adam saw Ollie pedaling out of his driveway, the red tail light on his bike flashing in rhythm with his pumping legs. Ollie’s bulbous ass in the spandex outfit, Ollie’s legs pedaling, Ollie’s admittedly cute face — none of it held any attraction for Adam. He only wanted Oscar.

  Four

  Oscar peed on the pregnancy-test stick first thing every morning. He feared he’d drive himself crazy with how badly he wanted that pink pregnancy indicator line to appear. It never did. Every morning for Oscar was the same disappointing blank test strip. No pregnancy line, no hope of a baby.

  Maybe Doctor Albright was right. Maybe Oscar needed a real alpha in his life. It was seemingly easy-peasy. He had hordes of alpha fans as a TV personality. His Facebook fan page was full of alphas introducing themselves, sometimes with not-so-subtle insinuations of how deeply they would knot their dicks inside him and how very pregnant they could make him. Alphas approached Oscar on the street, at the grocery store, and especially while he was doing his on-location broadcasts.

  Oscar looked at that morning’s non-pink, non-positive, non-baby pregnancy result and sighed. He buttoned up his dress shirt and knotted his tie, then put on the tailored slacks that were perfect for showing off his fertile ass. Even if there was nobody to show it off to. A text message appeared on his phone, from his boss at the station. Go directly to MPreg Hospital plz. Need to do onsite report. Story breaking.

  Oscar had never turned down a story. This was one he wanted to turn down. Seeing Doctor Albright again would be too much, even if they only passed incidentally in the hallway. They could smell each other from across a building. Yet Adam Albright would of course still need to keep up his facade of not being unmated alpha. Because there were “no unmated alphas working in the hospital.” Right. Just like there were “no transgender people in the military.” Sure. Reporters were trained to know truth. Those kinds of obviously false facades particularly irritated Oscar.

  “Hey, Alan, I’m driving over to MPreg now. What do you need me to report on?” Oscar was speaking into his car’s speakerphone as he drove to the hospital. Whatever he needed to report on, he was hoping it didn’t involve actually going inside the hospital. He especially hoped it wouldn’t involve any potential to meet Doctor Albright.

  “Hey, Oscar, it’s perfect story for you, I think.”

  “Yeah?” Oscar had his doubts. Alan was always well-intentioned, and he certainly had a good sense of what stories would be good for a young TV journalist’s career. But Alan had no idea about what was front and center in Oscar’s mind, much more so than anything career-related: Adam Albright, of course. He wanted him and so he didn’t want to meet him and his head was spinning with him so he didn’t want to see him anymore.

  “The hospital just basically shot itself in the foot. It’s barely operating.” Alan was using his breaking-news-story-emergency voice. This was going to be a big story no matter what.

  Meanwhile, Oscar remembered the joke Adam always told about “barely” using the swimming pool. Then he imagined a room of naked alpha surgeons barely operating. Then he brought himself back to reality. Maybe if the hospital wasn’t operating, Adam Albright wouldn’t even be there.

  “Don’t you think I should disqualify myself from doing a story on MPreg hospital? Since I’m a patient there?” It was worth a try. Even setting foot in MPreg hospital again was too daunting. He’d do it if he had to, but he’d rather not.

  “I wasn’t aware of that journalistic ethics rule, Oscar.” Alan was slightly condescending. Alan certainly had professional respect for Oscar, but he was the chief of the news operation at their station. And Alan was an alpha. “You’re saying, Oscar, that you can’t report on a hospital where you’re a patient?”

  “Ok. You’re right. Yeah. I’ll do the story.”

  Oscar resigned himself to going back to MPreg Hospital. It was his responsibility to his career and to his faithful TV audience. Even if he’d have to look down and away as he walked down the hall at the hospital. Even if he’d have to pretend not to see Adam Albright, pretend not to smell him, pretend not to know him, pretend not to lust after him, pretend not to love him.

  Oscar turned onto Hope Road. MPreg Hospital was gleaming and imposing as it always had been. It was just like one of the times he’d driven down that very road to one of his insemination appointments. This time, he at least wouldn’t be meeting any doctors, especially not Adam. He hoped.

  He parked in front of the hospital. Annoyed-looking, obviously pregnant omega men milled around the lobby. It was like a horde. There was no way to get to the front desk without going through a solid mass of upset omegas, and some of their alpha mates to boot.

  The front desk clerk was shaking her head and holding her arms up in exasperation to the line of men surrounding her with questions. Oscar smelled alphas and omegas both around. But he was there on a mission. And at least thus far, he hadn’t seen Adam. He kept hearing the words “Doctor Albright.” It was probably just his imagination.

  In his wallet, he found his press ID card. He’d never before had a chance to actually use it. He fished it out and held it up to people’s faces, saying press, press as he moved very pregnant and very unhappy omegas out of the way.

  At the front desk, Oscar pushed his press ID card almost into the front desk clerk’s face. Somewhere deep inside he suspected that the press ID was like a get out of jail fre
e card, but for making a story magically appear. This was one time when he definitely wanted the story to just appear, without having to go too deeply into MPreg Hospital and especially its chief of medical staff.

  In his fantasy, the front desk clerk would say “ok, here’s the real scoop,” or “ok, here’s the word on the street,” and give him the entire story he needed for his TV report. No such luck. Despite the press ID Oscar was pushing in her face, the clerk only looked blankly at him, with a face that said what am I supposed to do with this?.

  “Hi, I’m Oscar Oliphant. Press.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” The clerk was either colossally bored or very good at pretending to be colossally bored. “You can put your ID back in your wallet. You’ve been showing it to me for a good thirty seconds.”

  “Can you tell me what’s going on here?” Oscar was putting into use his News Reporting 101 skills.

  “Is that what they teach you in TV reporter school?” the clerk sneered. If she were a cartoon the sarcasm would be visible from her mouth.

  “Not really. So, um, what’s happening here?” He hoped to get a better response from her by dropping the standard reporter boilerplate questions.

  “Well, the doctor who runs everything just resigned. Like, just walked out on all of us.”

  “Oh wow. Who was that doctor?” Oscar was excited and anxious about the possibility of hearing Adam’s name. There was even a chance that Adam was no longer working at the hospital — and then what?

  “What, you know him?” The clerk shook her head. She reminded Oscar of the most petulant sort of bureaucrat at the DMV.

  “I’m just trying to get the facts for our viewers, ma’am.” That last word often softened up women when Oscar was trying to pull information from them. It was the old Sir Ma’am routine. The clerk’s eyes did show some interest at hearing that magic word.

  “Doctor Adam Albright,” the clerk said, as if the name was completely new to Oscar. “Every omega in town knows him. As a doctor.”

  “I see.”

  “And every omega in town wants to know him as more than just a doctor. And that was the problem. That’s why he walked out.”

  “Too many fans?”

  “Not quite.”

  “So? What’s the scoop? What’s the word on the street?” Oscar was reveling in finally being able to use those words in his work. He’d only seen them used in old movies about reporters.

  “Did you just arrive here from a Humphrey Bogart movie?” The clerk half-sneered at him.

  “Sorry. Just trying out some, uh, reporter talk.” Maybe it sounded as artificial to her as it sounded to him. People weren’t completely oblivious. “So tell me what’s up.” There Oscar went again, breaking down formality, talking to people as people, getting all the info. Oscar was a genius. An omega genius.

  “This morning, at the medical staff meeting. Doctor Albright announced that he’s an unmated alpha. And that he, more or less, excuse my language, doesn’t give a flying fuck who knows.” The clerk tilted her head down, as if to conceal what she was saying, even if she didn’t lower her voice. “And he said that if being an unmated alpha is against the hospital rules, then he’s resigning.”

  “Oh wow.”

  “Dylan from HR was at the meeting, and he confirmed it’s against the rules, and Doctor Albright confirmed he was resigning. And he just walked out. Didn’t even go back to his desk or anything, just walked off from that meeting into the sunset — well, into the sunrise.” The clerk shook her head and held her arms in a gesture of frazzled exasperation.

  “And then?”

  “This isn’t General Hospital. There’s no and then. He walked out. That’s it.” She sighed again.

  “How do the patients feel about it?”

  “Are you reporters just terminally stupid? How do you think the patients feel about it? Doctor Albright kept this entire place running. Nobody can do anything without him basically. Maybe we can give some flu shots and prescribe some antibiotics without him. But in the field of male pregnancy, Doctor Albright we can’t live without.”

  “Have you been in touch with him?”

  “Yeah, in addition to working at the front desk here, I also run the human resources department and a private investigation agency and I’ve been calling Adam in my copious free time I have here when I’m dealing with these thousand pissed-off pregnant omegas. Does that answer your question?” Her voice had definitely risen. She was matching the volume level and intonation of the angry omegas around her who were asking about Doctor Albright.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry. So —” Oscar wanted to ask her something more, but there was nothing more to ask. She’d told him everything she knew. He just had to stand in front of the hospital and do his remote take with some omega-on-the-street acting outraged.

  The news camera truck was already parked just outside the hospital’s lobby. Oscar smelled the alpha cameramen even from inside the building. Other omega patients were also clearly staring and sniffing in the camera truck’s direction. The camera and A/V guys were almost always alphas. They went into the field in part in hopes of getting lots of omega eye candy. Some of them could even snag omega husbands for themselves. They thought of themselves as having first dibs on every pretty omega that stood in front of the cameras. Oscar was all too familiar with that. And Oscar was not interested in them that way at all. But that had already been settled long ago, and the camera guys were happy to pal around with Oscar and only joke with him about his unmated omega status.

  The cameras were pointed at Oscar. The audio guy, who doubled as the makeup guy, ran up to Oscar and patted sweat off of his eyebrows. His alpha scent was strong, but Oscar really wasn’t interested. He only wanted to make his report. As always. And to find Adam. That part was new.

  “This is Oscar Oliphant reporting live from MPreg Hospital on Hope Street.” Oscar looked into the cameras. He had his game face on: his reporter face. It was live TV.

  This was a news segment like any other he’d done, but this one was about a topic that directly interested him. More than just interested him. A topic that captivated and overwhelmed him. Because he hoped that Adam would captivate and overwhelm him. “Doctor Adam Albright, the chief of medical staff here, has apparently just resigned. And the hospital is in shambles. Shambles.”

  Oscar knew to play up the sensationalism for the news broadcast. But in this case, it wasn’t really sensationalism to say the hospital was in shambles. It sure seemed to be in shambles, judging from the yelling crowds and the looks of despair on the employees’ faces.

  “Today, dear viewers, we are seeing confusion and despair from omegas and alphas alike here at MPreg Hospital.” Oscar turned to the milling crowd. He approached a chubby, curly-brown-haired man. He had an obvious omega scent about him.

  “What is happening here at MPreg Hospital?” Oscar asked the man, then looked into the camera while pointing the camera at the omega’s chubby face, thick lips, and curly locks of hair.

  “Oscar fucking Oliphant? Is that your name?” The omega was talking at Oscar, instead of looking at the camera. But the camera was catching it all. “This is your doing, Oscar Oliphant.” The stocky man was foaming slightly at his lips. Maybe he was just a pregnant omega overwhelmed by pregnancy hormones.

  “Can you tell our viewers your name, Sir? Are you a patient here?”

  “My name is Ollie Oswald. I work here at MPreg. And this is all your fault.”

  “And can you tell us what’s happening here, Sir? What you mean when you say this is our fault? Whose fault?” Oscar stood slightly closer to the man and held the microphone close to him again.

  “I mean you.” The man pointed his finger into Oscar’s face, between his eyes. “I don’t mean the plural you. I mean the singular you. You.” This Ollie guy seemed angry, but not deranged. Oscar could do the interview without risking physical harm. It would probably make compelling news TV.

  “Mister Oswald, Ollie Oswald, Can you tell us what’s going on h
ere at MPreg Hospital, what is upsetting you here?” The camera man walked slightly closer to Oscar and Ollie standing side-by-side.

  “Doctor Albright, the physician who was behind all the male pregnancy medicine we did here at MPreg Hospital. He quit because of you.” Ollie pointed his finger into Oscar’s face again.

  “Because of me?” Oscar made his best face of I’m dealing with a lunatic here and smiled condescendingly at Ollie. Of course he knew how likely that was in reality. But he’d pretend that the idea was ridiculous and that Ollie was a nutcase ranting into the camera.

  “A week ago, you met Doctor Albright.” Ollie pointed his face into Oscar’s face again. “After Doctor Albright saw you, his alpha hormones stunk up the whole building.”

  “I’m not sure what your train of thought is here.” Oscar was still pretending for the cameras that Ollie was a raving lunatic.

  “You know full well. We don’t allow unmated alphas to work here. Seeing you made Doctor Albright snap.”

  “Snap?” Oscar was really teasing out the story for the TV viewers. He was also satisfying his own curiosity, as well as his own lust for Adam.

  “This morning. Doctor Albright marched in to the physician staff meeting. He announced he’s an unmated alpha. He said he’s in love with an omega patient. And he said that he’s resigning from MPreg Hospital. Effective immediately.”

  “It’s a difficult situation for you at the hospital here, obviously. How are you handling it?” Oscar was doing his best newsman shtick.

  “What the fuck is that? Are you trying to be Dan Rather?” Ollie shook his head at Oscar. “How do you think we’re handling it? We’ve got thousands of pregnant omegas here. And hundreds of alphas. All of them need procedures. And nobody at the hospital can do anything without Adam’s direct oversight.”

  “Has the hospital considered waiving its policy on unmated alphas to accommodate Doctor Albright?” Oscar was really using his journalism degree to ask questions. This assignment was a lot more interesting than covering minor-league baseball games at the city stadium.