Omega's Joy: An MPREG Romance

by Oliver Crowley

  Jeremiah had no idea how he could possibly ever trust that Alex really meant that.

  He must have had a worrying expression on his face, because Alex leaned back, saying sincerely, “If you don’t want me to stay with you, that’s fine. I can stay with Fabian until I find my own place.”

  Jeremiah’s mood swung abruptly from bleak hopelessness to irritation, sudden and terrifying, like all things in his pregnancy so far.

  “God, Alex, shut up,” he snapped. “You’re practically living here already, that doesn’t make any sense.”

  He was so annoyed, suddenly. Alex, insinuating himself into Jeremiah’s life like a goddamn mole until Jeremiah couldn’t imagine doing any of this without him there to snipe at Jeremiah not to drink diet coke anymore or magically divining when Jeremiah needed mystery craving ice cream and rubbing Jeremiah’s feet and basically making Jeremiah completely dependent on him. It was bullshit.

  Alex was watching him warily, eyebrows raised. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I’ll stay here, then.”

  “Fine. Fantastic.”

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  Something like panic was crawling up Jeremiah’s throat. He threw his hands in the air. “Nothing! I’m so great. Everything is going really great.” He started backing away. “I have to go now, though.”

  Alex said, “Jeremiah, come on,” but Jeremiah did not. He fled like the cowardly rat he was, slowly, belly bearing ahead of him, unavoidable, leaving Alex behind him in the living room.

  ***

  Because he only had flipflops on, he didn’t flee that far. Also, his back hurt. He escaped as far as Fabian’s. Emily let him in.

  “Where’s your shadow at?” she asked, peering over his shoulder like she expected Alex to pop out of the shrubs.

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he muttered. “Can I just come in? Is Fabian here?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes,” she said, dragging it out. “In the back, he’s doing sponsor stuff.” She caught his arm as he walked past. “You okay?” She nodded at his belly. “All quiet on the western front?”

  “Yes, you nerd,” he said, and carefully pulled his arm away. He loved Emily, but right now he needed Fabian’s particularly bland level-headedness to see him through.

  He found him tucked into the couch in the study, scrolling through something on his computer.

  “Stop doing that, pay attention to me,” Jeremiah said as he bustled in.

  Fabian held up a finger without looking up. He finished what he was doing, disregarding Jeremiah’s dramatic, impatient sigh, and looked up. “What’s up?”

  Jeremiah was clasping his belly, he realized. He’d started doing that when he was stressed. The movement drew Fabian’s eye, and when he looked back up he seemed worried. “Everything okay with the baby?”

  Jeremiah shook his head and blurted out, “Alex says he’s not going back to San Francisco.”

  Fabian at least raised his eyebrows. “Like, ever? Is there a hit out on him?”

  “No-he said.” There was no way Jeremiah could get through this straight to Fabian’s patient, gentle face. He turned to mess around with the pretentious books lining the shelves and gritted out, “He said he wants to. Stay here, in LA. With. Well, with us.”

  “With us,” Fabian repeated skeptically.

  When Jeremiah glanced up, Fabian was smirking. “What? Stop doing that with your face, you look ridiculous.”

  Fabian laughed. “No, it’s just-I mean, I expected Alex to move down in a few months, but I knew he was still tying stuff up there. The only reason he’d move up that timeline would be-well.” He looked pointedly at Jeremiah’s stomach, which made Jeremiah clutch at it a little defensively. “He’s not coming down here for me, man, you gotta know that, at least.”

  Jeremiah didn’t know that, not really. He didn’t know why Alex had appointed himself as Jeremiah’s faithful stooge. He didn’t know what any of it meant.

  He pivoted with, “Did you know him and Anna split up?”

  Fabian nodded. “He told me about it a month ago.”

  “And you didn’t think to fill me in?”

  “I figured he already told you. You guys text all the time, you usually know Alex gossip before I do.”

  Fabian shrugged easily and Jeremiah leaned against the wall. If he was very still, he almost thought he could feel the baby moving. “I just don’t want him to rush into anything.”

  The look on Fabian’s face was horribly fond. “He’s a grown man, Carson. If he says it’s what he wants, then it’s what he wants.” Gently, he added, “You have to trust people to know their own minds sometimes, Jeremiah.”

  Fabian was watching him carefully like he wanted to say something else, but then he stood up and came to clap Jeremiah on the shoulder. “Where is he, anyway? You guys are attached at the hip anymore.”

  “That’s what Emily said,” Jeremiah groused, “and it’s not true.”

  He ignored Fabian’s scoff and followed him into the kitchen.

  Alex didn’t come over, and Jeremiah had left his phone at his house so he didn’t know if he’d been texting. He watched Fabian and Emily drink a glass of wine and pretended that he was as tipsy as they were. When they started curling into each other, Fabian running his fingers suggestively down Emily’s arm, Jeremiah stood up sharply.

  “Well, that’s my cue, I guess.”

  Fabian watched him leave. “I guess it is. Tell Alex we said hi.”

  Jeremiah turned his nose up. “I’m not your messenger.”

  Fabian’s laughter followed him out the door and onto the lawn as Jeremiah rubbed at his arms, the growing shadows chilly as he tromped over to his own house. He could see lights on inside. His breath picked up.

  Inside he could hear Alex rummaging in the kitchen. It smelled good, deceptively so, because Jeremiah knew whatever he was smelling would inevitably reveal its betrayal as a well-balanced unprocessed superfood.

  He tugged at the edge of his shirt, shuffling nervously.

  It would be so much easier if Alex would stalk out here and fight with him.

  Jeremiah wandered in to lean uncomfortably against the counter, Alex obviously hearing him walk in as Penny got to her feet and trotted over but refusing to turn around.

  “Hey,” Jeremiah said softly.

  Alex put down the pot he was filling with water and gripped the counter, taking a deep breath, shoulders flexing.

  He turned around with his jaw set. He eyed Jeremiah, wary.

  “Are we allowed to talk now, or are you going to run away again?” he asked sourly.

  Jeremiah flushed. “I didn’t run away,” he argued, ignoring Alex’s groan, “I just went to ask Fabian about something work-related, he’s next door. That’s hardly running away.”

  Running his hands over his face, Alex took a jerky step forward. “Just-you always do that. You just fuck off.”

  “When do I ever just fuck off?” Jeremiah demanded, outraged, although he could personally think of seven separate examples of the top of his head without even trying that hard. It was about dignity, though. He didn’t have to stand there and take this without a fight.

  “What about in May?” Alex looked surprised at himself, his eyes going wide, and crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly to compensate. “What about then?” Jeremiah looked away. Alex took another step closer, vibrating with indignation. “What about then, Jeremiah?”

  Jeremiah hunched over his belly, feeling the need to shield himself from Alex, from his justified outrage. From the memory of the morning after.

  When Jeremiah had left that morning, he’d gotten a bewildered text from Alex asking if he had gone to get coffee.

  No, turns out I got my flight time mixed up and realized I was running late. Then, as an afterthought, sorry.

  He’d sent Alex his flight info. Alex knew when his flight was. He knew Jeremiah was lying.

  Okay? Alex sent back after a few minutes. Well, safe flight. Text me
when you get in.

  k.

  Even Jeremiah had winced at himself. He was such an asshole. It was on the tip of his tongue to soften it. Say he’d had a good time. He had, really. He’d had such a good time. It was a great weekend, following Alex around and mocking his neighborhood and making him laugh, loud and deep in his throat. Fucking for hours.

  But he couldn’t say it first. He just couldn’t.

  He’d waited for Alex to take the leap, like he always did-I had a good time, Alex would say maybe. Or I’m so glad you came to see me. Even, reschedule your flight and stay a few more days. Anything.

  But he didn’t. Jeremiah’s stupid ‘K’ had hung there, mocking him, until he’d shoved his phone away and went to get a drink at the bar, without the slightest inclination that at that very moment, something life-shattering was taking place inside of him and he wouldn’t figure it out for another two months and change.

  “I woke up after having sex with you all night, and I thought it meant something to you, too-and you were just gone.” Alex bit his lip. “You left and pretended like nothing had ever happened.”

  Jeremiah couldn’t help but push back, even as he reeled at the idea of it meaning something to Alex,too.

  “You never wanted to talk about it, either, Alex.”I knew you would hate me for tricking you into fucking a guy and I always knew you were going to go back to your beautiful girlfriend anyway and also I’ve been mostly in love with you since we lived together anyway, so I was always in more danger than you were, he thought furiously, but didn’t say.

  “I didn’t want to freak you out anymore!” Alex burst out. Jeremiah flinched and Alex took a deep breath, voice quieter when he said, “And it doesn’t matter now, anyway. It’s in the past.” His gaze slid away, oddly skittish.

  Even though Jeremiah knew he’d been in the wrong, and he continued to be in the wrong, the unrepentant asshole inside wouldn’t let it lie. “If I’m so terrible then why do you want to stay?” he demanded, voice rising until he was nearly shouting.

  Alex’s hands clenched in the air like he was strangling something invisible. He glared at Jeremiah, frustration stamped across every line of his face. “I want to be around to help you, Jeremiah. Is that so outrageous? We’re best friends-”

  “-you’re one of my best friends-”

  “-and I can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I want to be here for you. And it’s my decision, so shut up about it,” he ended, cutting Jeremiah off so sharply Jeremiah’s mouth hung open, startled, Alex’s shoulders hunched, his entire face pink.

  “Fuck,” Jeremiah breathed.

  The silence in the kitchen overextended infinitely save for the clicking of the oven. Jeremiah’s fingers flexed restlessly at his side.

  And then Jeremiah was diving for him, immediately rebuffed by his own belly, bouncing off of Alex’s trim stomach like a beach ball.

  “Whoa, shit,” Alex barked out a laugh in surprise, catching him. “You okay?”

  “Just kiss me already, god,” Jeremiah hissed, grabbing Alex by the ears and yanking him down.

  Kissing Alex again felt so good. Jeremiah made an embarrassing sound, grappling closer so he could pull Alex down to a more manageable height, Jeremiah on his tiptoes, pressing closer, licking inside, needing to get more-

  “Jeremiah,” Alex murmured against his lips. He looped his arms tight around Jeremiah’s lower back, holding him securely to Alex’s front, belly big between them. He let Jeremiah devour him, sucking on Jeremiah’s tongue but mostly letting Jeremiah drive. It made Jeremiah insane. He pulled at Alex’s hair, yanking his head to the side, and Alex hissed, Jeremiah feeling Alex’s cock starting to stiffen where it was tucked against the underside of Jeremiah’s belly. It made Jeremiah go hot, not entirely in arousal, the thought of Alex’s erection pressing against his pregnant belly making him squirm.

  Still kissing him, Alex started walking backward, catching a hand on the wall so he could lean Jeremiah back against the doorjamb and kiss him even harder.

  Jeremiah finally pulled his head back, panting desperately, as Alex started kissing down his neck. Jeremiah was making so much noise. He couldn’t stop. He kept one hand tight in Alex’s hair, holding him in place when he licked and bit at a particularly sensitive spot just under his jaw.

  “Fuck, Alex,” he moaned. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He groped for Alex’s ass with his free hand, squeezing hard at the muscle, loving how it made Alex jerk back and then into it.

  “Jeremiah,” Alex said urgently against his neck, tickling. “Jeremiah, can we go to bed?”

  Jeremiah nodded wildly. “Yeah, fuck. Yeah.”

  They stumbled into the bedroom, Penny barking until Alex broke reluctantly away to quietly shoo her out of the room, closing the door.

  Jeremiah sat on the bed, winded, shyness creeping over him as Alex stared at him from the doorway, eyes hooded, mouth slightly open, breathing audibly.

  “Get naked,” Alex said softly.

  Jeremiah’s dick gave a sudden, terrible throb. He made a strangled sound in his throat. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he muttered.

  Alex laughed, the sound dark, and began stalking slowly toward him. He yanked his shirt carelessly over his head and threw it to the side, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants in a sharp motion until he was standing half-naked in front of Jeremiah where he sat on the bed.

  “Do it,” Alex urged. He cupped Jeremiah’s head with his hands and tilted his chin up.

  Awkwardly shimmying out of his sweatpants, Jeremiah tugged at the neck of his shirt, skin hot. It got caught around his shoulder and Alex helped ease it off his body. At Alex’s raised eyebrow, he rolled his eyes and squirmed out of his boxers as well, kicking them to the floor until he was naked on the bed.

  He resisted throwing his arms up as shields to cover his body and glared defiantly up at Alex instead.

  Alex hardly seemed to notice. He looked fascinated, eyes tracing jealously over the shape of Jeremiah’s body in the semi-dark.

  He eased Jeremiah back onto the bed, shuffling him back until he was sitting up against the pillows. “Stay off your back,” he commanded in a low voice.

  “I don’t think ten minutes of fucking on my back is going to send me into premature labor.”

  Alex crawled until he was braced above Jeremiah, face red as he gazed down at him. He smirked. “Ten minutes, huh?”

  “Karma hates a showboat, Vane.”

  Shaking his head affectionately, Alex went down on an elbow to cup Jeremiah’s face and kiss him again, both of them getting lost in it.

  Jeremiah had been jerking off a lot more recently, which he was given to understand was normal at this stage in his pregnancy, but having Alex’s warm body pressing him into the bed was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

  He hated how solid and firm Alex felt and how round and soft everything about Jeremiah was quickly becoming in comparison, but he couldn’t stop yanking him closer.

  Jeremiah was hard. Every time his cock rubbed against Alex’s hip he hissed until he was thrusting up into, any hope for a sexy rhythm forgotten with his brain so foggy with want.

  Alex’s hands were everywhere, tracing up and down Jeremiah’s chest, over the slope of his belly. Jeremiah wasn’t sure he loved that but he did like when Alex’s hand dipped lower as he kneed apart Jeremiah’s legs. Jeremiah arched his back as best he could, mouth wide as he moaned when Alex brushed at his asshole.

  “Just-let’s pick up the pace, Alex. Close the deal.”

  He expected Alex to bitch back at him but when Jeremiah looked, Alex swallowed back a gasp. He nodded. “Yeah.” He pushed Jeremiah onto his side with a hand to his hip. “One minute.”

  Jeremiah grabbed at his cock, jacking it clumsily, his stupid belly getting in the way, watching Alex clamber around in the bedside table for the lube.

  “Just get on me,” Jeremiah breathed out impatiently.

  Alex muttered, “Shit,” and scrambled back, kicki
ng off his jeans in a hurried clumsy movement that made Jeremiah’s chest ache, yanking his boxer-briefs halfway down so his cock sprang forth as he pulled Jeremiah to his chest.

  He nudged Jeremiah’s hand out of the way, getting some lube on his hand and taking over jerking Jeremiah off. “Is that good?” he muttered, biting at Jeremiah’s neck. Jeremiah could only pant in response but Alex seemed to take that as a good sign, as he should. He twisted his wrist around the head, biting harder when Jeremiah made a sound. “You feel amazing.”

  He snuggled up tight to Jeremiah’s back, reaching to bend Jeremiah’s knee and bring it up. “Is that okay?” he whispered, kissing compulsively at Jeremiah’s neck. “Not too much?”

  Jeremiah felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. “No, it’s fine,” he whispered back.

  Alex slotted his cock between Jeremiah’s thighs, making Jeremiah gasp when he thrust experimentally, nudging at Jeremiah’s balls.

  They got off like that, sweating all over each other, Jeremiah feeling cumbersome and unsexy but unable to truly care with Alex pushing between his thighs, against his balls, hand keeping up the unrelenting pace on Jeremiah’s cock, leaving Jeremiah without much to do but try to keep his left knee bent, and even that he didn’t do very well.

  Instead, he threw his hand back blindly, needing to grab something. He got a handful of Alex’s hair, pulling. It made Alex groan, biting suddenly at Jeremiah’s neck. He came first, come wet and slipping between Jeremiah’s thighs. Jeremiah whined and Alex shushed him, adjusting so he could swipe some of the come and rub gently at Jeremiah’s asshole with one hand and keep kept stripping his cock with the other until Jeremiah’s body went stiff, orgasm rushing through him like a goddamn lightning strike.