Omega Wanted: Bad Boy Mpreg Romance

by Stephan James

  “I guess I’m not… this is a lot to take in.”

  “You know, there’s a word for that.”

  “What?”

  “Bisexual,” said Blake, softly. “No, it doesn’t mean you’re greedy or promiscuous, or any of that crap people pin on bisexuals. What it means, is that you like men and women. That’s all. I know the world may see you different, but you’ve got me to protect you now.”

  “I suppose I can do that,” said Julian, slowly. Blake stretched his right hand out towards Julian, who tentatively took it in his left.

  “Julian… I’m sorry we had such a fast start.”

  Julian said nothing, just staring back at him.

  “And I want to do right by you. But…. dating has never been my thing. For years, I’ve just went out to the bar to find a hook up or one night stand. I’ve never done anything like… romance.”

  “I don't need hearts and flowers, Blake,” said Julian.

  “I’m not saying all of that old commercial romance,” said Blake. “You know, I’ll think of something. Okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re more important to me than anything,” said Blake, earnestly. “When you were gone, I could feel the fact you weren’t around like a weight on me. I don’t know how to describe it.”

  “I was lonely,” admitted Julian. “I didn’t even want to say it to myself at first but… I missed you.”

  “Let’s get you home.”

  Blake did a three point turn and drove back out again onto the road. After he had gotten out, he took his right hand off the steering wheel again, and held it out to Julian, who grabbed onto it. He noticed that Julian was examining his hand like it was something new and different, which it dawned on him it was. Even though he kept his eyes on the road, he could feel Julian’s long fingers tracing every line and rough spot on his hand.

  Finally, they were back at Blake’s house. Julian could finally appreciate the beauty of the simple cottage as they pulled up to along the long driveway. Where last time the crunchy leaves littered the ground, pale green shoots of grass were peeking out from the last remnants of the winter snow. It was a new beginning, spring sprouting everywhere. Most importantly, it was a reinvention in their lives.

  Blake got out of the car and opened the door for Julian, who he helped out of the car.

  “Uh, we have some logistics to iron out,” said Blake.

  “Yes?”

  “Yeah.. Do you have any clothes?”

  “Yes and no, they don’t really fit. And I can’t really go back to my old place though, however I can get MacMahon to go back and bring me my cats.”

  “Cats?”

  “Two, named Fluffy and Conker.”

  “Anything else I need to know about?”

  “Not really, I can’t think of anything else right now.”

  “So you’re not about to tell me you have a crazy pyromaniac aunt, or you have a deadly allergy to something?”

  “Nope, I’m allergic to air freshener, but that’s about it.”

  “Great. And there’s stuff like I only have one plate and one set of silver wear.” said Blake.

  “All that domestic stuff,” Julian said, nodding.

  “I do have two towels.”

  “That’s a start,” Julian sighed. “I don’t have much experience in the ways of running a normal household, but I guess as an Omega that’s on me.”

  “Sure, if you want. I mean, I work all day and you’re currently out of a job.”

  “And now I have a criminal record,” said Julian, furrowing his brows. “I probably can’t get another one.”

  “That’s okay, you’ll have our baby to take care of,” said Blake. “That’s a job in itself.” Blake opened the front door for Julian, and beckoned for him to walk through. “Welcome home.”

  “Thanks,” said Julian, stepping through the door and into Blake’s house. It was dark, and slightly messy, but there was something there to work with.

  “You hungry?”

  “Yes, I am,” said Julian, “where’s the kitchen?”

  “It’s a small house,” said Blake, self consciously, “but it’s over here.” They walked through the living room and into the kitchen, which had blue and green tile walls and what Julian thought were hideous curtains. Julian opened the refrigerator, and grimaced.

  “Do you literally just live off bacon?”

  “I eat a lot of BLTs,” said Blake, stepping up behind him.

  “We have got to go grocery shopping,” said Julian. “I want ice cream. And cheese. And pickled onions.”

  Blake wrapped his arms around Julian, resting his hands on Julian’s belly.

  “Whatever you want, Jules,” he said. “You’re eating for two.”

  “Jules?” Asked Julian, amused.

  “Sure. Julian is a long name,” Blake answered, kissing Julian’s neck.

  “Not that long,” said Julian, feigning offense. Blake nuzzled at his neck a bit more, nipping slightly.

  “Can I kiss you?” Asked Blake.

  “I don’t know, can you?” Asked Julian, turning around to face him.

  “You know, for somebody who’s not gay, you’re getting pretty into this,” teased Blake.

  “Bisexual,” said Julian, ghosting his lips over Blake’s. “Can we go sit on the couch, please? My feet are sore.”

  “Are you saying that because you want to make out, and the couch is easier, or because your feet are sore?”

  “Both, actually,” admitted Julian.

  “Come on then,” said Blake, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the couch. It was difficult to possess Julian with his body in the way that he wanted to. His pregnant belly was cumbersome, and Blake, while of course excited to welcome their child to the world, was also finding it to be in the way. He sat Julian sideways in his lap and kissed his neck, moving up and along his jaw to his lips. Julian parted his lips slowly, allowing their tongues to slide over each others, gently exploring and writhing together in a rhythm that built slowly. Just as Blake was about to suggest that maybe they should move to his bedroom, Julian pulled back, and grimaced.

  “I gotta pee.”

  “Jules?”

  “The baby’s kicking, drat, I forgot where the bathroom is, I gotta go,” he said, struggling to his feet. Shaking his head ruefully, Blake got up and led him to the bathroom.

  “Where did you used to live?” Asked Blake, suddenly. Julian was just washing his hands, and he turned his head away to look at them.

  “I lived in the grey apartment buildings behind the public works,” he said, kind of embarrassed.

  “How about you make yourself comfortable here?” Asked Blake. “I’ll go pick up your cats and your clothes, and then after, maybe we can go out to dinner, and grocery shopping.”

  “Out to dinner?” Julian gasped. In the post war society, restaurants were rare and expensive.

  ‘Yes, out to dinner,” confirmed Blake. “You know I owned Lionel Construction Enterprises, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let me tell you that I can pay to take you out. And I want to.”

  Julian was silent for a second, and then he started to cry a bit.

  “Sorry, it’s just the hormones,” he said tearily.

  “No, what’s going on? Let’s sit.”

  They made their way back to the couch and Julian sat, wiping at his face. Blake sat next to him. He fought the urge to wrap himself around Julian, as their relationship was so new and Julian wasn’t even one day out as a bisexual man. He didn’t want to impose on him. Instead, Blake sat close to Julian and placed one hand tentatively on his shoulder.

  “You can tell me.”

  “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me,” said Julian. “Not just the dinner. I mean, I’ve never been out to dinner before, but nobody has ever stuck up for me or anything like what you’ve done. And it’s the pregnancy hormones and the fact I just got out of jail and all that. I’m a mess.”

  “I under
stand,” said Blake. “It’s okay. Look, you go take a nice shower and I’ll go and get your cats. I don’t know what I’m doing either, Jules, but I do know that we are going to be getting through this together somehow. You, me, and our kid.” Blake helped Julian to his feet and got him a towel.

  “I’m going to lock the doors before I leave,” said Blake. “Nobody knows you’re here. You’re safe here, okay?”

  Julian nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a few.” Blake grabbed his car keys, locked the front door, and started heading out towards the car. It was also a long drive to Julian’s old place, but he got there as fast as he could and entered the apartment building. A burly man with ginger hair and a bizarre tattoo was inside.

  “Who the hell are you?” He asked.

  “A friend of Julian Copperfield’s,” said Blake, with an air of confidence that made the man taken aback.

  “I’m MacMahon,” said the man, “and I run this place. I’ve never seen you around though.”

  “I know about you, though,” said Blake. “Impressive work you did on that old pervert. I was the one who bailed poor Jules out of jail.”

  “You? Fuck, wish you could have bailed me out. I just got out myself, had to sign with a bondsman to get everything in order, and then hitchhiked back here from the jail.”

  “That’s rough,” said Blake, “I should’ve gotten you out too.”

  “No, it’s alright,” said MacMahon. “You’re here for his things, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” said Blake, “the cats in particular.”

  “Yeah, lemme go get Fluff and Conker for ya,” said MacMahon. “There’s not much else worth saving up in his room.” The burly ginger trudged up the stairs and came down with two cats in a cardboard box.

  “Be careful, they’re going to try to get out,” he said, handing the box to Blake.

  “Thanks,” said Blake, sniffing. They smelled nice, at least. Blake had never been a fan of keeping pets, but he guessed, and guessed correctly that the pets were non negotiable for his Omega.

  “Just a second,” said MacMahon, as Blake moved to turn around. “How come you know Julian?”

  “I used to be his boss,” said Blake, “at the construction company.”

  “I see. Why are you getting his stuff?”

  “He said he couldn’t come back here.”

  “Nah, he could if he wants. Then again, this is gang territory.”

  “I know.”

  “Where’s he staying?”

  “He’s crashing at my place.”

  “Look, it’s not like I didn’t notice he’s… yanno. Is it yours?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take good care of him. I don’t care what kinda freak he is, but if you hurt my gang brother I’m going to bust your face from here to the Australian continent.”

  “Thanks,” said Blake, smiling at the man. He readjusted his grip on the now yowling box of cats and strode out the door. He made sure to belt the box with the cats in it into the passenger seat. Julian would like that touch, he thought to himself.

  It was getting late when he brought the cats back into the house. He found Julian standing in the laundry room, folding the last of a massive pile of laundry Blake had left quite long overdue. Julian himself was wearing a pair of Blake’s dress pants, which were much too big for him normally but fit okay just under his belly if he left them half unzipped, and one of Blake’s work shirts, which he had left unbuttoned.

  Julian looked up at Blake sheepishly, and then back down at the box.

  “Fluffy! Conker!” He smiled and scooped the cats out one by one, cuddling them and then plopping them down on the ground.

  “Thank you so much, Blake. These cats mean the world to me.”

  “That’s why I went for them,” said Blake, smiling. “I just want to do what’s right by you.”

  “Thanks. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to hearing that,” said Julian, truthfully.

  “Dinner?" Asked Blake.

  “Yes, please,” said Julian, “I’m starving.”

  It was different actually driving a man around, Blake thought, and going out of the house as opposed to in. Julian sat beside him in the passenger seat, quietly watching as the country road turned into a suburban street, and then into a floodlit highway. It was an hour to the restaurant, but they barely spoke. Blake had so much he wanted to say to his new Omega, but no words to say them in. He noticed belatedly that Julian was asleep. It had been a hell of a day.

  When they got to the restaurant, it was all Julian could do but to stop and stare around at the waiters carrying napkins and plates laden with food, and couples sitting elegantly around tables surrounded with dark wood.

  “This is… incredible,” said Julian.

  “When I was a kid, this used to be common,” said Blake, with a twinge of nostalgia in his voice. “Anybody could afford a restaurant then, but then after the war, and the reduced agricultural output and stuff, it was harder. Also, the young people were dead, and waiting is a job done on foot.”

  “I see.” At almost eight years his junior, Julian didn’t remember this. His first memories involved hunger and his mother smashing her teeth on beer bottles.

  The host came over and brought them to their booth, which had a low dark wood table set with silverware and a napkin. A silk geranium stood at the edge of the booth.

  “Here we are,” said Blake, taking the menus the host proffered and handing them to Blake.

  “Where do I start?” Asked Julian, looking down at the menu, which was short, but looked long to him.

  “You can get an appetizer, or go straight to the main course.”

  “I’m getting mozzarella sticks,” said Julian, reading the description. “Golden brown deep fried mozzarella cheese sticks. Count me in.”

  “You got it, Jules,” Blake laughed, and figured out his order.

  “This is… nice.” Julian, for the first time, extended his hands towards Blake’s across the table. Blake smiled, heat rising to his cheeks, and took Julian’s pale, thin hands in his dark, strong ones.

  “It is.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything.”

  Blake and Julian spent a lot of time together over the last three months before the arrival of the baby. Julian took care of the house by day, while Blake went to the office and came back often in the evenings with cut flowers, or a peace offering of pickled onions when Julian had been feeling particularly affected by the pregnancy. Much to Julian’s annoyance, Blake insisted on taking Julian to doctor’s appointments and checkups, making sure he and their baby got the best pre natal care.

  “It’s just something to keep you safe,” Blake said, as Julian grumbled. He knew that they both hated going to visit the doctors who had altered their lives so much. Blake accompanied Julian to every visit, his threatening appearance and manners keeping his Omega safe. Finally, in June, Julian’s due date rolled around. Blake grabbed the bag that Julian had packed, and they started the long drive to the hospital.

  “Blake… I…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “Okay.”

  They drove in silence, anticipation hanging in the air. Omegas couldn’t give birth expect for cesarean section, which was oft dangerous in older times. The medical facilities weren’t as they were now before the war, but they were still adequately prepared to perform the surgery.

  “Julian Copperfield?” The secretary asked, and Blake nodded. Julian looked miserable. It was time for the baby to come out, and now.

  “Right this way,” she said, leading them into the waiting room. The next few hours were a blur. Blake barely had time to give Julian’s hand a squeeze before he was led into the operating room, and he stood pacing in the waiting room, practically tearing at his hair and snarling, scaring all of the other pregnant people and their spouses who were also waiting for various reasons.r />
  A doctor ran into the room.

  “Blake Lionel?”

  “Yes?”

  “Something has gone wrong. Julian is unresponsive.”

  Blake was running after him in a flash, rushing to the side of the bed. The baby was being held and cuddled by a couple nurses, but Julian was lying unconscious on the bed.

  “What can you do?”

  “We are running diagnostics now,” said the doctor, “but he was obviously allergic to the anesthetic.”