Getting up too Félix physically felt lighter. “How long are your parents staying?”
“A couple of weeks, then we’re flying out.”
“Then they need to see Mila more, we should all have dinner. All of us, our parents.”
“I can answer yes immediately to that.” Max grinned.
***
“How’s my favorite girl?”
“Doing very well, has been crawling a lot.” She first did it at Max’s new place and it eased the pain of him missing out on so much, and he was the lucky one getting the very excited video call of Max showing him. They had formed a very tight team, very quickly over the last couple of months.
“Keeping you on your toes then?”
“Definitely.” He sighed as she wriggled to get down. “Doesn’t want to stop.”
“Just like us then.” Max smiled. They had fallen into a routine swiftly too, the picks up and bring backs running smoothly to cover games and media commitments. “The house sold.”
“That was quick.” Mila was settled in Max’s arms, but they both knew it wouldn’t take long for her to grumble to be set free.
“Yeah, glad really, now I can get properly settled here for this little munchkin.” Blowing a gentle raspberry against her cheek Max sighed at her giggle. “So big now.”
“It’s scary how quick it goes.”
“Sure is.” Thunder rumbled through the house and shocked Mila into silence. “It’s okay, just a grumpy giant with big boots on.”
“Max!”
“What? My dad used to tell me that when I was little.”
“Do you want a drink before you go?”
“Ah go on then.” The cup of tea was very much welcomed as they both watched Mila eagerly crawl around.
“Also wonder if you want to stay for dinner.” They both had been watching the rain get progressively harder and harder.
“Might have to, don’t want to drive out in this with her to be honest.”
“I understand, I’m the same.” He reassured as got up to make a start on dinner, and having Max in the kitchen with him as he did so was a bonus. Working together with Mila sat in her highchair made him feel contented in that bone deep way he was certain he had never felt before. Of course he always wondered what it would be like if Max had been by his side right from the start, it haunted his dreams and had seeped into daydreams too. But the preview he was getting here was so much more than he ever hoped for, it was quiet and real.
Sat around the table together reminded him of dinners they had when they were both playing together, hidden away from the rest of the world they got to be themselves without expectation or judgment. And it was the same right there, they were talking about Mila mostly, but there was no awkwardness or bitterness.
“Weather is worse now.” The rain was hammering against the window harder than ever.
“Looks like it, think I might have to come back in the morning to pick her up.” Max admitted glumly.
“No, you can’t go in this weather.” Félix stated as he picked their empty plates up. “I have a spare room, sleep there and then you can go tomorrow.”
“Wouldn’t it be strange?”
“No, it’ll be safer.”
“Alright then, she’s not long off bed. Are you a monkey?”
“Dada.”
Max stared at her completely dumbfounded. “She said that right, you heard her.”
“Uh huh.” Félix nodded, tears welling up quickly.
“What was that now Mila? Say it again.” Max prompted hopefully.
“Dada.”
She reached out to Max with both hands and he immediately went to her to pick her up. “That’s right baby girl, I’m your dada.” Cupping her head he kissed her all over her face and had her giggling.
“It’s very smart.” Standing with Max he stroked through her curls.
“Course she is.” Max grinned. “We did good.”
“We did very good.”
***
Sitting around first thing in the morning watching Félix mill around fixing breakfast warmed his heart, he was curious what he was like Mila and he could tell he doted on her constantly. Just like him. And he could tell how much she adored him because she watched where he went and tried to talk whenever he got close.
“Dada.” Patting the table attached to her highchair she laughed. “Dada!”
“She means both of us, you know that right.” Max placated.
“Mila means you, knows I am papa. It’s okay, I like to hear her say it.” She knew they were a family.
When it came for Max to leave the time came and went, and instead they spent the day together playing together, each of them sneaking glances throughout to get the measure on how they were doing. So when evening rolled around again neither of them wanted to part ways.
“I’ve really enjoyed today.”
“Mmm.” He really didn’t want Max to leave.
“You haven’t?”
“Don’t want you to go.”
“Oh.” It would be a lie to say he didn’t feel the same. “I guess I should though.”
“Of course, sorry, didn’t mean to say anything.” Félix mumbled.
“It’s not that. I don’t want to, it’s been so easy and fun. Putting her to bed together, then getting her up, it felt right.” Félix nodded at him. “Natural.”
“Si.” He bit his lip.
So he stayed.
And kept staying.
All he asked was to be taken home.
***
“I think she enjoyed herself.” Max grinned contently as he slumped back into the sofa having not long put Mila to bed. “One year old, that’s crazy.”
“Mmm, so tired.”
“Yeah, Lucas and Tomás were on it today, Laura and Mig are going to have their hands full.”
“Are now!” Félix was going to suggest having something to drink, but couldn’t bring himself to even say the words.
“Come here.” Slipping an arm around Félix’s shoulders he pulled him in so he could rest his head on his shoulder.
***
“Goodnight.” Without thinking Max kissed Félix’s cheek as he walked to his bedroom.
***
“Morning.” Félix smiled as he let a hand linger on Max’s back.
***
“Merry Christmas.” Max said as they saw each other on the way to Mila’s bedroom, his arms automatically opening so they could hug each other. The way Félix snuggled in close to him took his breath away.
***
“Happy New Year.” Félix breathed as they listened to the countdown finish, his heart racing as he brought himself on tip toes.
“Happy New Year.” Max whispered, not wanting to break the moment when Félix kissed him gently, just a brief brush of lips. But Max couldn’t let him get away with that, keeping him close with a hand on his waist, he used the other one to cradled his head. Winding his arm around his back he kissed him tenderly, sucking lightly on his lips and teasing the other with his tongue.
***
“This one then? It’s my favorite of all we have taken.” Félix pointed at the computer screen.
“I love that one.” Max agreed as he bent over to rest his chin on top of Félix’s head. “Mila looks so much like you there.”
“Your eyes though, always your eyes.” Félix assured, it was three of them sat together on the sofa, Max and him were sat close together with Mila sharing their lap grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve let everyone know, so this is the last piece of the puzzle.” Instagram was going to do the work for them, putting the finishing touches on the explanation he was posting with it, he waited for a nod from Max before posting it.
“Whoa, it’s out there now.” Max murmured. “No escaping now.” He grinned.
“Feels good.” For the first time in his life he had no secrets hanging over him like a threat, and having giving up football it was the ultimate fresh start.
“It’s bloody fantastic.” Kissing
his cheek he made sure to share the same message, wanting maximum exposure to get it all over and done with quickly.
***
“Félix?” Max called as he returned from dropping Mila off at playschool. “Fél, where you hiding?”
“Bathroom.” He called back loudly, hearing the nerves in his voice.
Heading up and dropping the keys in the bowl he quickly double-backed to toe his shoes off. “Mila went off like a trooper today, didn’t even get a look back!” Max chuckled as he pushed the door open. “Oh, Fél, really?”
“Uh huh. have the same feeling.”
“Wow, alright, okay then.” Slotting in behind Félix he wrapped his arms around his waist and went cheek to cheek with him, looking at him through their reflection in the large mirror. “I guess we have been trying.” Smiling softly he kissed his neck tenderly.
“Si, has been fun.” Rolling his hips a little he heard Max hiss.
“Stop teasing and tell me what it says.” He bounced a bit from excitement.
Félix could see how much it meant to him in the reflection, his eyes were shut, but he was mouthing all manner of things, the one word he picked out was ‘please’. And he agreed, they’d been trying for best part of the year.
“Fél, come on, I can’t take it.”
“Two lines, is positive, I’m…I’m…pregnant.” He hated that dread was the first thing he felt, but Max soon washed that feeling away.
“Oh my god, wow, pregnant!” Max yelped in excitement. “Yes!” Slowly spinning Félix around he kissed him deeply, and passionately. “I love you.”
“Te amo Max.” The way he held his stomach after the revelation resolved the unease he felt the last time, all that uncertainty never materialized because Max was stood beside him tell him it was all going to be fine. Whenever he felt a twinge of doubt Max was there, drawing patterns on his burgeoning bump and getting Mila to do the same.
He was home and Max had taken him there.
And now for a special bonus story!
ROOM TO BREATHE
Adrian notices the truck as soon as he wakes up; but morning in his household is a messy business: he’s got lunches to make, kids to wake up, Junia’s hair needs to be brushed, Jamie’s scattered books need to be retrieved, Sam needs to be persuaded to eat his breakfast; so the truck just sits there in the back of his mind along with the knowledge there’s something peculiar about its presence, but nothing really clicks.
He only stops to wonder about the truck as he watches Junia and Jamie walk around the corner, hand in hand, looking so very cute in their neat school uniforms and matching puffy coats and hats and scarves. Adrian hesitates for a moment before walking in the garage, where Sam is playing with his toy cars, sitting on top of a work table, and looks at the truck.
The bakery in front of Adrian’s house has been empty for at least fifteen years, after the owners died and the children moved to the city. That’s what’s weird about the truck: nothing has been parked in front of the bakery for ages.
But now people are walking up and down the stairs, carrying furniture and big boxes in the apartment above the bakery, shouting orders to one another; and it can only mean one thing.
Jake grumbles a curt hello as he walks in the garage, pressing a kiss to Sam’s cheek and warming his hands near the stove nearby.
“There’s a truck in front of the bakery,” he says, and Adrian nods quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Someone’s moving in above the old bakery.”
Adrian gives the bakery one last look before walking into the garage and to the car parked inside it, hood up, engine exposed and looking pretty worse for wear. “It would be nice. If they were here to open up the bakery again,” he says distractedly. The owner of the car forgot to change the oil. There’s no way to save the engine, he’ll have to take it out and order another one.
“We wouldn’t get anything done,” grins Jake.
“You know what Steven’s like. He’d propose a break every ten minutes. And you’d say yes.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You always say yes.”
Adrian decides not to answer, because his brother is right: Adrian really doesn’t like saying no to people. Hell, he doesn’t like giving bad news to people, that’s why Jake is there, isn’t it?
“It would be nice anyway,” he decides.
“Cake?” asks Sam, looking at his uncle.
“See?” laughs Jake. “He already knows what’s up.”
“He’s a smart kid,” smiles Adrian, going back to the broken engine.
***
The bakery is covered in dust; it muffles Oliver’s steps and makes everything look suspended in time, asleep.
It’s a nice shop, though. The floors and furniture are made of the same light wood, nicely crafted and looking like they could survive for another hundreds of years. The walls are made of red bricks, without any stucco on, they make the big room look cozy and warm, and the big picture windows, Oliver thinks, will let so much sunlight in once spring comes.
He walks to the back, where the kitchen is, the big ovens cold and quiet, rows of trays stacked on the island, empty glass jars covered in cobwebs and dust. He wonders how many people he’ll need to hire to make this work; if he can do it all on his own, like he’d very much prefer to do.
There’s a big storage room that opens on the alley next to the building, and, at the end of the corridor, a door to the lowest story of the house. It’s a living-room, apparently, big and empty, the windows and French door covering the entirety of the wall in front of Oliver have been closed with planks of wood, and won’t let any light in. Oliver walks to them, peeping though an opening, only managing to see a messy blotch of different shades of green.
He walks upstairs, where he finds the kitchen, a comforting tiny room where he can already see himself sitting early in the morning, sipping some tea; and yet another corridor with three closed doors waiting for him. The first one on the left leads to the bathroom, cramped but not suffocatingly so, with a massive, lion-footed bathtub, and light blue tiles on the walls. Right in front of the bathroom is an empty room that, judging by the shelves carved right into the walls, used to be some sort of studio or library. At the end of the corridor is the door to the bedroom, a large roof-window right in front of the door, a pretty window-seat underneath it; the door to the closet open, dress hangers left here and there.
He puts his duffel bag down, sits on the dusty floor, silently, for a long moment.
Maybe, he thinks, maybe he can be happy here.
***
Adrian leaves the shop for lunch; he makes Sam wear a thick, warm coat that makes him walk like a little penguin, holds his hand, and starts walking down the sidewalk.
It’s not snowing yet, but the air is becoming icy and crisp. Two days, three at best, and they’ll wake up to a still, silent, white morning. It’s still early to think about holidays and rest, October has just started, but Adrian already feels festive enough.
“Papa, Papa, pick me up,” demands Sam, planting his feet down and making grabby hands at Adrian.
“It’s right around the corner,” says Adrian, but he’s already leaning to grab Sam and hoist him up.
“It’s too cold to walk.”
“Really?”
“My nose hurts.”
“We can’t have that, can we?” grins Adrian, rubbing his nose against Sam’s, making him squeal happily. “We’ll be back home in ten minutes, promise. It’s not nice to let your brother and sister walk home all alone.”
“No,” murmurs Sam, pressing his little face against Adrian’s scarf.
He’s getting so heavy so fast. Just like Jamie before him, and Junia before both of them. Adrian feels a little tug in his guts knowing that one day they’ll all grow up, like his little brother Steven did. He squeezes Sam a bit tighter, and Sam sighs and squirms closer.
***
Jamie and Junia run to them the second the bell rings, backpacks bouncing, speaking a
t the same time about what they just studied and how one of their teachers will have a baby and the fact Kurt’s nose started to bleed during history and did Adrian know what a dodo is and that they’re all dead now?
They keep talking as they walk back home in front of Adrian and Sam, holding each other’s hand, turning back to look at Adrian with half their faces buried in their big scarves and floppy hats.
“Katrina says his dad says they’re going to open the bakery, announces Junia. “Will they make donuts at the bakery?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“It would be nice. We could all go have a snack there instead of going to Frau Naumann’s shop,” says Junia.
“She’s mean,” adds Jamie, softly, like he’s scared Frau Naumann could jump out of nowhere and yell at him.
“We’ll have to wait and see,” says Adrian.
***
He looks at the bakery again while washing the dishes, his hands feeling cold and aching a little; Junia and Jamie doing their homework at the kitchen table, little faces frowning as they concentrate, Sam curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, napping peacefully, the blanket half-kicked off of him.
The truck is gone, as are a good portion of the planks on the windows upstairs, which are open wide. There’s a light in the roof-window upstairs, shining brighter and brighter as the day around them fades into darker shades of blue.
***
The first things Oliver cleans up are the kitchen and the bathroom, and it takes him an entire morning just to do that, wiping the dust off of the furniture, throwing away everything the past owners forgot under the sink, scrubbing the bathtub clean, making the tiles shine, hunting out all of the spiders. Afterward, his arms and back are aching dully, there’s a sharp sting at the base of his neck, his stomach rumbles pitifully, and Oliver isn’t sure whether he wants to sleep more than he wants to get out of the house to take a breath of fresh air.
The bedroom comes next; a big plume of dust rising as he swipes the floor, his sweat congealing on the back of his neck as he fights against the spider webs on the ceiling, washes the floor, cleans up the fireplace and the windows.
It never occurs to him that he would get things done much faster by asking for help.
At the end of the day he shoots the disassembled bed a distrustful look, tugs the mattress in the middle of the room, throws a decent amount of blankets on it, and sleeps deeply as he’s never done before.
Something Greater Than Yourself: An Omega Mpreg Romance Page 11