by J. R Fox
Jonas realized a moment too late that he’d referred to the baby as Deacon’s, but Deacon didn’t even seem to react to it. To him, it probably didn’t make a difference. He knew he was the father, and while he hadn’t asked for any kind of parental rights, he did want to be involved. That was okay—more than okay, since the support was entirely welcome—but Jonas was protective of his new baby. Not that he thought Deacon would ever hurt it, but he couldn’t help being wary of everything right now.
The feeling would likely pass as he got used to the idea and accepted that no one could take this away from him, but for now, he’d watch his language so as not to freak himself out.
“So how does it feel?” Deacon asked as he finished sorting the food and began to search the cupboards for plates. “Being pregnant, I mean.”
“It feels… terrifying,” Jonas admitted. “But it’s a terrifying I’m ready for. I’m scared that I’m going to screw up, or something’s going to go wrong with the baby, or that I just won’t be a very good parent.”
He’d barely acknowledged the fear that had sunk into his stomach moments after the doctor had confirmed that he was pregnant to himself, and here he was pouring his heart out to Deacon, who’d just been making conversation.
“You’re going to be a good dad,” Deacon said sincerely, moving to stand in front of Jonas and putting his hand on his shoulder. “And if something goes wrong, we’ll deal with it then. If you need anything, I’m here, okay?” He squeezed gently.
“I could use a hug,” Jonas admitted.
“That, I can definitely do.” Deacon pulled Jonas close to his chest, holding him tightly. “I know you’re scared. You’d have to be insane not to be. But you gotta think about how great it’s going to be when the little guy gets here.”
“It’s a girl,” Jonas said automatically. He had no way of knowing, but something inside him told him he was going to have a daughter. It was comparatively rare for two males to have female children, but not impossible.
“I bet you fifty dollars it’s a boy.”
“You’re going to lose fifty dollars, but okay.” Jonas laughed. He already felt better with Deacon holding him, which he hated to admit even to himself. He’d decided to do this alone, and though he appreciated Deacon’s support, he couldn’t get to the point where he was leaning on him. Deacon had his own life, for one thing.
“If you say so. You think we could eat now? Because the food’s gonna get cold, and I might actually die of starvation if I don’t,” Deacon said without letting go of Jonas.
“I think I can manage that.” Jonas pulled away from Deacon gently. “If you died here I’d be fighting off reporters for weeks, and I don’t think that kind of stress would be good for the baby.”
Deacon sat and started serving himself, leaving the task of actually putting food on his own plate up to Jonas, as they’d always done. Jonas was willing to put up with Deacon’s need for control to an extent, but he was still his own person.
“It feels good,” Jonas said after a few moments. “I mean, I realize I said I was scared, but this feels like it’s exactly what I want. I couldn’t be happier.”
Deacon smiled at him. “Good. I want you to be happy.”
Jonas wasn’t entirely sure why, but the sincerity of Deacon’s statement hit him hard. He hadn’t realized how lonely he was until he had someone checking in on him regularly, and it was very, very nice to have a friend again.
Especially a friend who brought him General Tso’s chicken without even having to be reminded that it was his favorite. There was a lot to be said for that.
***
Deacon opened an email to Jonas, and almost immediately decided that what he’d been going to say in it was better said in person. He used it to invite himself over instead, promising pizza and cheesecake—which had become Jonas’ new favorite food since he’d started showing—in exchange for the intrusion.
Like he always did, Jonas agreed. Deacon was sure by now that he could have just turned up at Jonas’ house any night of the week and been welcome there, but he wanted Jonas’ consent to invade his space. Especially now that he was pregnant and protective of his baby, even if it was also Deacon’s baby. Even their own mated alphas could read as a threat to an omega when they were pregnant, and he and Jonas weren’t mates, no matter how close they were as friends.
He picked up the pizza and the nicest cheesecake he could get at short notice, and prepared himself to have an awkward, uncomfortable conversation over dinner. Jonas greeted him warmly when he got to the door. He was definitely glowing by now, the faintest hint of a swell under his t-shirt the only clue as to why.
Deacon loved looking at him at the moment, and he hated that he was potentially about to ruin all the goodwill between them, but he had to tell Jonas what was going on.
He waited until they’d both started eating before broaching the subject, not wanting to spring it on him.
“So, I have a problem and it’s going to affect you, which I’m really sorry about, but I gotta tell you what’s going on.”
Jonas swallowed deliberately, licked his lips, and then turned his full attention to Deacon. “Okay. What is it?”
“The fact that I got an omega I’m not mated to pregnant has become public knowledge, and there’s talk that I should resign from my position because I’m not upholding the values of, uh, normal dragons. I’m not going to unless I’m forced to, but people might start harassing you about it. This is all my fault and I know it’s not going to be good for the baby, so I’d like to offer to pay to move you to a different state for a while, just until this all blows over.”
Jonas blinked at him, fear and then anger twisting his expression. Finally, he settled on determination, which Deacon took as a good sign. “I’m not leaving. But I got you into this situation, and I’d like to get you out of it.”
“How?” Deacon asked, not following where Jonas was going.
“If they want us to be mated, then we’ll be mated. We’ve been mated this whole time, but you didn’t want the news to get out and take attention away from important policy discussions. That is, unless you’ve got your eye on someone else.”
“No, no.” Deacon paused to think about the idea. Appearing to be mated with a baby on the way would be actively good for his career. People loved a family man. “That’s a generous offer, but people would have to believe it.”
“I am literally pregnant with your child. You don’t get more mated than that.”
“They know you were artificially inseminated.” Deacon looked down at his plate, guilt over what he’d gotten Jonas into washing over him again.
“I had trouble conceiving, but you love me so much that you didn’t care about that.” Jonas looked up at him seriously. “I mean it. I’m not moving away from this place, it’s where my job and my doctor and everything else in my life is. So, that’s the other solution. I’ll even hold your hand in public.”
Deacon snorted, amused by the way Jonas had said he’d hold his hand as though it was an incredible hardship. “You’ll have to move to my apartment. No one would believe it otherwise, once word gets out. I can say that I asked you to keep it quiet, hence the separate living arrangements, but once it’s out in the open…”
“There’d be no reason to live separately.” Jonas nodded. “And people wouldn’t accept that I was just fiercely independent. It would defeat the purpose entirely.”
“I wouldn’t object to having another body around the house. There’s a study, so it’s not like we’d have to share a room, even.” Deacon shrugged. “Kind of an upgrade on college, huh?”
“Yeah.” Jonas smiled wryly. “Are we doing this?”
“I guess so.” Deacon shrugged. “I mean, I guess it saves me from the pressure of actually finding a mate, and you don’t want one, so…”
“It’s a good solution. We should have thought of it before.” Jonas started eating again, apparently satisfied that they’d solved the problem.
Something
deep inside Deacon was more than just satisfied. He hadn’t thought of it at all, but the idea of Jonas coming to live with him eased an anxiety he hadn’t realized he’d felt. It was like a puzzle piece had clicked into place to complete a much larger picture. His dragon side felt more at peace around Jonas already.
He didn’t intend to tell Jonas any of this, because it sounded weirdly possessive at best, but it was a weight off his mind that he hadn’t been aware he was carrying. He started eating again as well, watching with renewed interest as Jonas sat back and laid a hand over his stomach.
Deacon’s fingers itched to join Jonas’. He gathered up his courage and wet his lips to speak. “Do you think I could…?” Deacon reached out toward Jonas’ stomach. “Only if it’s okay with you.”
“It’s fine.” Jonas took his hand away so Deacon could replace it with his own. As soon as he made contact, he felt like another puzzle piece had slotted into place. A strange, deep peace washed over him as he made contact. It was good to know the baby was real.
“I’m supposed to be able to feel her kick, soon. This week, or next.”
“Him,” Deacon corrected playfully. It was of no consequence to him whether the baby was male or female, but he liked teasing Jonas about it. Having his friendship back meant the world to Deacon, and he was never letting go of it again.
“If you say so,” Jonas murmured, closing his eyes. Deacon took it as a sign that his hand was welcome for a few more moments, but moved it away before it became awkward.
“I came here expecting to say goodbye to you,” Deacon mused. “I like this solution better. I’ll issue a statement about the whole thing tomorrow, you can move in whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ll have to get someone to take over my lease, but I don’t think it’ll take long. This is a surprisingly nice apartment for the money.”
“So that’s… that, then. We’re fake mates now.”
“You might want to get used to just calling us mates, but yeah. That’s that.”
“Huh.” Deacon smiled to himself. “You know, I think I could get used to that.”
The idea was more appealing the longer Deacon thought about it. He’d never be asked about his intentions to choose a mate again, he could be sure that Jonas and the baby were safe, and he’d be in a better position politically.
It almost couldn’t have worked out better for him.
Chapter Three
Jonas hadn’t thought of it before he came up with the plan, but it turned out that as Deacon’s mate, he was expected to attend an assortment of functions and events with him. Functions and events that were, by their very nature, full of dragons.
By the end of a week of agreeing to go to every one of them, he was exhausted and ready to cry. He tried to hide his pathetic state from Deacon, but now that they were sharing an apartment, that was difficult to do.
Deacon woke Jonas gently, having managed to make both of them dinner while Jonas was napping—unintentionally—on the couch.
It took all of Jonas’ willpower not to burst into tears, which he assumed was down to being pregnant and tired of people, but was no less humiliating for it.
Without a word, Deacon sat down next to him and started eating, giving Jonas time to recover and start in on his own food. Deacon’s cooking wasn’t the most adventurous in the world, but it always tasted fine and everything was fresh, which was a better standard than Jonas was used to.
That didn’t help his guilt at all, because Deacon had been nothing but good to him since he’d moved in.
“You don’t have to come to all those events, you know,” Deacon said, his talent for perception still sharper than Jonas had ever remembered to give him credit for. “I enjoy the company, but I know you’re not used to it, and I know being around other alphas has to be stressful. You’ve been great, but I’m happy to tell people I’m insisting you stay home for the sake of your own health and the baby.”
“And not that I’m too weak and hopeless to be arm candy while pregnant?”
“You are neither weak nor hopeless, but you are pregnant, and you’re not used to this much social interaction with people you don’t like.” Deacon shrugged. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“So I’m supposed to sit around here and let you feed me periodically and do nothing else?” Jonas raised an eyebrow. He hated to be useless, perhaps more than Deacon did. Deacon never was useless, but pregnancy, as it turned out, was harder than Jonas had been expecting.
“You’re still working. And you’re making a whole new person, which is a lot of work, too. This is what we do. We prop each other up when we need it. That’s what friends are for.”
Jonas made an unhappy noise and slumped over to lean against Deacon’s shoulder, still chewing on his last mouthful of steak. He appreciated Deacon’s efforts to make sure he got enough iron. “I can never repay you for this, unless you magically develop the ability to get pregnant.”
“Or if I got sick, or injured,” Deacon said. “Besides, I’m not here to be repaid. I’m here as your friend, and I’m here as partially responsible for your current state.”
“I-” Jonas cut himself off as he felt the baby kick. Suddenly, all of his concern over his current hopelessness melted away, replaced by sheer awe at what he was managing to accomplish. He grabbed Deacon’s hand and put it over his belly, so he’d be able to feel it as well.
“She’s gonna be opinionated.” Jonas grinned.
“And she’s gonna be worth it,” Deacon said softly, not removing his hand from Jonas’ stomach. Not that Jonas was about to object—having someone to share his joy with was much better than doing it alone, as far as he was concerned. Deacon was as excited for him as Jonas was excited for himself.
“I don’t want you worrying about what you are and aren’t doing, okay? This is more important.” Deacon nodded to Jonas’ belly.
“I know.” Jonas sighed. “I just… I’ve asked way too much of you already, I don’t want to ask anything else.”
“Okay, well, how about I ask you for something I know you’re not going to like?”
Jonas said nothing, but nodded to show he was listening.
“For me, could you just accept my help and not worry about it? This is temporary, and even if it wasn’t, you’re not exactly a hardship to have around. It’s nice to have someone to come home to, especially someone I actually like, and to have good reason to cook most nights instead of living on takeout because it’s not worth the effort for one person. I’m enjoying you being here, and I think you know I’m enjoying getting to take care of things.”
Jonas laughed softly at that. He did know that Deacon relished being in charge.
“How about we limit me to one social function a week for a while, and revisit that number in a month or so?” Jonas offered. They’d always gotten along well on compromise, and this seemed like the most sensible solution.
“Okay, deal. I’ll pick out the fun ones for you.”
“I would appreciate that,” Jonas said, letting himself settle against Deacon’s side. It couldn’t hurt to literally lean on him if he was going to do it metaphorically as well, and he liked the way Deacon’s hand felt on his stomach.
***
Deacon could barely contain his excitement as he headed home, eager to show Jonas how all his hard work had paid off. While he got a lot of satisfaction out of his job, it was amplified by having someone outside of work to tell about it, someone he personally cared about the opinion of. Changing the world was great, but changing the world for someone you knew, who meant a lot to you, that was a different experience entirely.
Increasingly, Deacon thought of things in terms of changing the world for the baby, too. What might not benefit him or Jonas overly much now could make a huge difference to Jonas’ baby as it grew up, and that felt like something to be proud of.
He went into the apartment to find Jonas lounging on the couch, working on his laptop. Deacon stopped behind him to rub his shoulders—a trick he’d
discovered years ago to get Jonas to do things he’d otherwise be hesitant to. This was important, so he wanted him in a good mood.
“I’m beginning to suspect that you want something, but I just need two minutes to send this off to my editor and then I will be all ears.” Jonas said without looking up at him, his tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated.
Deacon had come to accept the tiny flashes of desire he had when he looked at Jonas sometimes—he’d accepted them all the way back in college, and they were only to be expected now that he was pregnant with a child Deacon had sired—but now they were tangled up with a deeper, needier feeling. A feeling that was reared up most strongly on the rare occasions when Jonas fell asleep next to him on the couch, or when he was wandering around pre-coffee in the morning, sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired.
Deacon waited patiently while Jonas finished up, massaging his shoulders delicately the whole time. Jonas didn’t like too much pressure, but he’d forgive a hard squeeze if it got a knot out of his muscles.
“Okay, done.” Jonas tilted his head back to look up at Deacon. “What do you need from me?”
“I just need you to come for a ride with me in the car. There’s something I wanna show you.”
“Do I need to get dressed up?” Jonas asked. He was extremely resistant to a higher standard of dress than was absolutely necessary, and Deacon had watched him go to the supermarket in the clothes he’d slept in a few times. Not that there was anything wrong with that.
“Not at all. This is definitely a come as you are thing.”
“Then I would kill to get out of here.” Jonas closed his laptop, set it aside, and stretched as he stood. “Let me pee and grab a coat, and I’m all yours.”
Deacon tried not to think too hard about how good Jonas being all his sounded while he waited. There was no point in dwelling on things he couldn’t have.
Jonas never asked where they were going, which was probably one part trust, one part laziness, one part realizing that it was meant to be a surprise. Deacon hadn’t expected them to fall back into old patterns and routines as easily as they had, but he was pleasantly surprised by it. It was good to have Jonas back, exactly the way he’d had him in college.