The Unicorn's Dearest Omega

by Marilyn Black

  I sat straight up and rubbed my face. "No protection, right?" Then I looked into his eyes. "Do we really want to go that far?"

  He looked at me with dazed eyes. "I was thinking the same thing, actually."

  If we actually gave into our primal selves, that would mean we'd become fathers. I had nothing against babies or wanting babies, but I just wasn't entirely sure I was ready for that. That Neil had also considered this made me feel better about it. Of course I didn't even know I had just entered heat until we were already in the middle of fucking, so no wonder it didn't cross my mind. When I came up into this room to sever my gross bond with Jonathan and reclaim my life, I had no intention of being impregnated.

  Maybe it was because I was officially too horny for reality, but I no longer so a problem with that once I saw the massive girth of Neil's fearsome horn. And no, I'm not talking about the lower one.

  Maybe to seduce me or maybe because he himself was so seduced, he had partially shifted, revealing that mega-horn on his head in its full glory once more. Just looking at it made me want to stroke it over and over, just to see what would happen if I kept doing it.

  I smiled and said, "If you want to have a baby now... what would we name it?"

  Immediately, he looked down and laughed. "I thought you were apprehensive!"

  "I am!" I pressed my chest. "I don't to rush things. But maybe this is our opportunity. If we want to truly consummate our new bond and the end of the old one, this is the best way."

  He nodded, eyes closed in agreement. "You are right. But if it's not something you want to do, then tell me. After all, a baby is a big responsibility."

  "I swear, I'm not going to make a choice I didn't want to make in the first place." That was a lie, yes, because I was definitely unsure about having a kid. The more I thought it through, however, the more I started realizing what a good choice it'd be. For one, it would be a sign that we were truly a couple-- my body so totally rejected Jonathan, so having a child with Neil would be proof that we were going to work.

  He chuckled and said, "Okay. Then shall we continue?"

  "With pleasure." I threw myself on him, but all I accomplished was plopping onto my side and giggling as I looked up at him. And from that vantage point, he was the hottest man I had ever seen.

  He rolled me over and we got back into our position, except this time he was fully on the bed. It was the old Missionary position, perfect for baby making.

  He licked my chest, cleaning the cum I had shot on myself as well as a lot of the lovin' sweat. Feeling his warm tongue pass between my breasts was like being pet under the chin.

  And once he had me settled again, he slipped himself back in. I had somewhat tightened thanks to our little time-wasting talk, but once I felt him, that little thing knew to expand.

  And then he started again, and I thought I was going to pop from all the electric waves flowing through me. He'd droop his head and scratch his horn against my stomach, and that may very well be one of the top five hottest things that I've ever seen.

  Over and over again, he bucked and powered on, and I could feel when his motions became more and more frantic that he was genuinely getting close. By that point, all I cared about was keeping that cock in my ass, and I knew that he wanted it too because of what I felt next. It was small at first, but then grew larger-- a pressure inside my behind that caused his penis to never actually leave me. It was so large that, even with my lubricated ass, it was probably going to get stuck in there unless it shrunk.

  The knot had arrived! And feel it expand inside me had brought a renewed wave of pleasure. I hoped it never stopped expanding (even though that'd be silly). And once I felt the full girth really get in and start pounding my guts, I knew that it was time.

  "Oh God, I'm coming!" he shouted. "I'm coming!!" His voice echoed off the ways and rattled the windows. His horn expanded further, and his eyes briefly flashed silver like a unicorn. "I'm coming!!!"

  He pulled me back, lifting me up and gasping and howling.

  That unmistakable warmth spewed all inside me, getting everywhere-- and, critically, trickling into my ovum. He had done it! But he wasn't done nutting. There was more and more coming-- more than Jonathan could ever hoped to have made. It just kept coming and coming, living up to its name. And I was stuck right there. He shifted his body slightly, but for all intents and purposes, we were one. His knot tied us together. And I felt complete.

  "Oh my gosh," he said. "That was..." He panted, struggling to catch his breath. "Whoo!"

  When I looked up at him, I saw that his face was drenched with sweat to the point he looked like a mirror. I could tell that he was waiting to do that, and now that he had achieved his goal, he could basically die a happy unicorn.

  The feeling of the knotted shaft became blasé after a while as I stopped considering it was even there besides when it spasmed and pulsed a bit more cum into me.

  I reached back behind my head and said, "Unicorns got a lotta juice!"

  We both laughed.

  "Ah... Yeah... This is gonna be more than enough."

  Eventually, and with a heavy heart, I had to accept that the knot was going to shrink-- and shrink it did. Though he involuntarily thrust me a couple times, he still pulled out and threw himself onto the moist bed sheets.

  Both of us were tired.

  And crazily enough, we realized then and there that it was still noon and the curtains were open!

  "OmiGOD," I said as I got up and ran to the window. "Now everyone saw us!"

  He shook his head and flapped his hand. "We're on the second floor, sweetheart. And we're surrounded by trees. Literally only the birds and the bees would have even had the chance."

  I bit my lip and said, "But what if I wanted people to watch?"

  He shrugged and said, "We can always try again later if you insist!"

  We were out of energy for more sex but cuddling for the next few hours was good enough. At least, cuddling on cleaner sheets would be. But what the hey, if it was with him, we could cuddle in a fucking volcano and I'd still be hot and heavy.

  Neil

  Once the high of the holy fuck waned, we both realized that we had essentially gone raw in the middle of the day. I was still surprised that Scott proved to be in heat, but it made sense in retrospect. Estrous could be prematurely triggered by traumatic events as well as a desire to make babies, and sometimes it just starts out of their control ahead of or behind schedule. That was natural. It's fine for your body to have its own rhythms. I didn't understand those rhythms entirely myself, but I didn't have to in order to respect that they happened and it wasn't my business to worry about them. Still, I did enjoy that his heat started when it did.

  Even I was shocked at how big my load was.

  We spent the rest of the day in each other's arms and spooning. Scott called and even dropped by, making sure that we weren't ambushed by any of the wolves, but once he saw that we were safe and learned that we had decided on consummation, he had some words for us.

  "Take it from me," he started, "when I say that having a baby is going to test you in the early days."

  I threw back my head and sighed, "Man, right now, I'm just hopeful that Tommy gets a baby at all."

  Scott responded, "You're gonna get one. Don't worry, it'll happen. And when you get it, you're going to be stress tested."

  Tommy said, "Well don't make me feel bad about it!"

  "I'm not! Having Michael was the best choice we ever made. It's just that it's not a pure dream."

  "I'm prepared for that," I said. "No one said life in general was going to be easy."

  "Buuut..." He stood up and walked out of the lobby and to his car. When he came back in, he handed me an old rattle. "You're still in luck. I have a ton of leftovers from when Michael was a tot, so you won't have to buy all new stuff."

  I laughed. "Dude, I can handle it. It's fine!"

  "You can still save a few pennies at least."

  Tommy wiggled in his seat and said, "O
h, thank you, honey!" and shook the rattle like a child himself.

  The next day, Tommy was working at a level I'd never seen him at before. He didn't even have his Iglesias face on, and yet he was working around the shop as if he owned the place. And at 1 PM, he'd go to his classes and be back by 8. It was the routine we had gotten used to, and yet his new demeanor threw us all off. It was as is a great weight had been lifted off of his back. Or perhaps it was like watching a friend come out of depression. Everything had worked out.

  He was so approachable and lively, talking to customers and waving his booty around when he walked. And when the radio played an older song (four years old is still old, right?) called “Kiss From A Rose,” that put that old ear worm back in my head – only for Tommy to make it all better by singing along, nailing every line perfectly with all the emotion I imagined you might see at a Seal concert.

  “Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey!” he’d say with a swoon of his whole body, handing a bagel to a bemused middle-aged woman. “Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah!”

  That lady looked at me as if to ask, ‘Is he hitting on me?’ I shrugged.

  Michael came in at around 4 PM, and the first thing I did for him was to hand him that book that Artemis had given us. Tommy read through most of it the previous night and decided that it was apparently so good that it ought to go to its rightful owner.

  When I asked him why he didn't finish it, he gave me, "Just so I can make up my own ending! The whole book is oozing with so much magic that it feels like that was the intention all along."

  Needless to say, Michael didn't like reading enough to look excited, and when he saw me give him a book, he looked like I had just personally offended him.

  Except for when he said something peculiar.

  "This is it, huh? Harry Potter?" He looked up at me. "A girl I like in my class really likes this book."

  Even though he had to struggle to say one good thing about any book, I could see it in his eyes that he was going to soldier through each and every page just for his little girlfriend. Puppy dog love. Perhaps literally, as from what I heard from Scott:

  "Jessica? Yeah, she's part of the Cullen clan."

  There was something about that, of love among the kids, that made me think it was so cute. Like 'this is the next generation.' I didn't want to discourage him. We all have our own ways of loving. Maybe he'd stick with Jessica through the years. Maybe he'd eventually find an Omega boy. It didn't matter, as long as he kept those fires of love kindled. After all, some people clearly didn't know how to without hurting others.

  And I told Scott, "You're a good dad."

  Jasper picked up Michael, waved to me and blew me a kiss for giving his child such a gift, and they embarked on home.

  When Tommy came back, I told him that I had given Michael the book, and he said, "Here's to making childhoods."

  Scott sat down in a chair late at night and asked me, "So what are your plans, then? What do you expect from the baby?"

  I looked to the ceiling, suddenly lost in a thought I didn't know I'd care about until now: how had I not considered all of the other little things that would go into having a baby? We were just so excited about the prospect itself that I didn't think one bit about things like whether we had space or whether we'd be able to provide a loving, caring environment.

  So the answer to that was, "Exactly what you think we'll do. Because we have the money to raise this child for a good life. We live in a nice, slow-moving part of the world. And we are dedicated to their development. We won't be bad parents like the Grover family was to their own children."

  He nodded at this, and then said, "But what if the Grovers try to go after your child?"

  My nostrils flared and I clenched my fist. "We'll do what we have to do."

  Tommy set down a couple of utensils right after Scott said what he did. "Oh my god, that's true..."

  I looked to him and said, "But again, we're part of a clan. A family. We look after our own. We won't allow them to do something that heinous."

  Though he still looked uneasy, I saw a smile try to grow on his face. That's what I wanted from him the most: for him to smile. The happier he was, the happier the baby would be.

  At least, if we actually had a baby. I can't deny that I went to bed that night nervous that Tommy's body wasn't going to accept me. If that was the case, that meant his spirit thought I was unfit to be a father in some way.

  It was all those little idiosyncrasies of life in our world that made me wonder sometimes. Who chose these rules? Why did some Omegas have this ability and not others? And if-- when-- we had our baby, would we truly be able to protect them?

  Tommy and I both slept in the same bed. He usually valued his own privacy, and I could understand why, but now that we had consummated our love, he was into being with me. We'd spoon usually, but that night we faced each other.

  And silently, he asked me, "Do you think we'll be good parents?"

  "I do. Absolutely."

  "Scott's been at this for years, hasn't he?"

  "Yeah."

  "How does he feel about it? I mean, I know he says he enjoys it, but you're his brother and he's got to be more honest with you."

  I nodded. "The honest truth is that I think he enjoys it much more than he even says, precisely because he knows you wouldn't believe him if he made it out to be a slice of his own little heaven."

  He didn't say much after that, but I felt his body and soul visible relax.

  I loved my brother deeply, and I loved his husband as well. Michael could be a little snot at times, but every kid was like that at some point. If anything, he was much better behaved than either of us were when we were 8. And I felt jealous of him. Yeah, that might sound a little crazy, but just think about it: when I was growing up, I was told by literally everyone around me that I probably wouldn't live to adulthood or old age. The clan elders were fine with that because they were already so old, but they were still deeply distressed about our own fates.

  My fathers were shifters who lived in a time just before my own, and even they had the same anxieties as everyone else. When Scott and Jasper birthed Michael, a silent part of me was upset that they'd bring a new life into a world that was likely to go up in flames.

  Then, it seemed like it was overnight when all those anxieties vanished back in 1991. Ever since, I could not believe how lucky Michael was.

  We shifters had great power over our own domains, but we had little power in the higher echelons of the world. We had no way of stopping the more-ons in the White House and the Kremlin from setting the world afire, so our whole philosophy was to hell with tomorrow, just live for today. And when it happened, it happened, and we'd band together for protection and community.

  Here we were on the cusp of October 1998, eagerly anticipating the start of a new millennium of possibilities and hope. Maybe that's why I was so excited and anxious to have a child. We'd be able to bring them up in a world without fear. At least, that's what I had hoped.

  Tommy looked so fucking beautiful. The moonlight glinted off of his face in such a way that made him glow. He was such a good kid. I had never felt prouder of another person, and I thought that, maybe, I really had made the best catch in history.

  Tomorrow was the first big day of the season: October 1st. Though it was fairly cool some days before now, a cold front was going to move through and bring about a shitload of really cold air. A preview to the season, if you will. I was excited, because fall and winter were my favorite seasons. You'd think a unicorn would prefer spring, but I'm not like most unicorns. Maybe that's why Tommy wanted me.

  There was a noticeable spice to the air that morning. Pumpkin spice. Tommy personally brewed his own special batch and offered it at a discount to anyone who requested it. I couldn't help but gravitate back towards the pitcher just to get more whiffs.

  Artemis stopped by that morning. I asked her, "Is this like Einstein, where you wear the same thing every
day to conserve brain cells?"

  She scoffed and said, "It's just my personal brand, you horny-headed dork!"

  "Your... brand? Are you going public with it? Can I trade in stock of your wardrobe?"

  She slapped several Susan B. Anthony dollar coins onto the table and gave me a smug grin. "I'll have that pumpkin spice brew, if you please."

  I snickered all the way to the pitcher, entirely content with handling it just so the aroma tickled my nose some more. The shop always smelled wonderful, but Tommy's pumpkin spice latte was probably the best thing he'd ever made, and on that morning, he completely knocked it out of the park.

  Since the cup was only $2.50, I rung up the register and prepared to give her back two quarters when she said, "Ah ah! Not two. One."

  I raised my eyebrow until I realized, "Why do you even collect these things?" and handed her a half-dollar coin, perhaps the rarest one I had besides that one 1800s-era half-penny (which I was never going to put back into circulation).

  She then collected the rest of her dollars and set the half penny on top. "Consider it a hobby of mine."

  "That's a bizarre hobby."

  She pointed at me with a peculiar finger while holding the cup. "And by the way, did the kid like the book?"

  I looked to Tommy and then to Scott.

  He set down his pilfered donut and said, "You've ruined his life."

  Her face contorted in weird directions. "What are you talking about."

  "Before now, it was just Pokémon, Pokémon, Pokémon-- okay, that's fine. I can't handle that. Now, he won't shut up about Harry Potter!" Scott picked up a spoon and said, "Leviosa!" over and over again. "My lords, it's literally every minute!"

  She pressed her hand over her mouth and said, "Seeeee? I told you he'd like it!" Before Scott could retort, she collected her receipt and said, "Tata, you muggles!"

  Scott was close to crying (no, not literally) when he said, "He thinks he's a wizard now. My son is a wizard."

  The radio played a song I liked, a track from a group called New Radicals called "You Get What You Give."