Omega's Joy: An MPREG Romance

by Oliver Crowley

  Jeremiah could turn his shoulders enough that he could watch Alex’s face, see his skin go from pink to red.

  He cupped his face, choked groans pushed out of him as Alex pushed all the way in. “Alex,” he whispered. He traced his mouth, desperate but mesmerized at the same time. His cock was aching but he wasn’t in a rush to touch himself or get off, happy to watch Alex getting worked up above him. Content with the luxury of running his hands up his shoulders and feeling him shiver.

  Alex shifted and the angle was perfect. Jeremiah bit off a curse. Alex dropped his head between his shoulder, grunting. He fell to his forearms, long body pressed all along Jeremiah. Jeremiah squirmed, twisting to keep his eyes on Alex’s face until Alex buried his face in his neck.

  They fucked, the only sound was them gasping, the hitching of Jeremiah’s breath, the deep groans working their way out of Alex’s chest with every sharp, powerful thrust of his hips.

  “I wanted this,” he muttered, voice full of gravel. He circled his hips, Jeremiah twitching, crying out. He was hitting Jeremiah just right, just there. Unable to hold back, Jeremiah reached below his belly and groped for his cock, fisting the head, twisting his wrist around.

  “So good,” he bit out, mindless, only half-listening to Alex as Alex fucked him so good, so hard. It was perfect.

  Alex licked at his neck, nosing up behind his ear, breaths striking Jeremiah’s skin and making him shiver. “When I was making plans to come out here, I wanted to do this. It was all I could think about.” His voice were so low. It made Jeremiah flush. He picked up the pace, sliding in and out, gaining force, hips smacking meatily into Jeremiah’s ass. “I didn’t know if you would-oh, god-even want to.”

  “Always,” Jeremiah muttered, stupidly honest with Alex inside him. “Always want you.”

  “And I hugged you at the airport, and I felt you against me, and for a split second-fuck, for a second, before you said anything else, I thought, ‘that’s mine.’ For just a second, and I wanted it then, too-Fuck, Carson. Fuck.” Alex fucked hard into him, sharp strokes, like he couldn’t control it.

  Jeremiah groaned, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Alex-I’m so sorry.”

  Alex slowed, shushing him. “Sh, it’s not-that’s not what I was trying-” He got distracted, eyeing Jeremiah fisting his own cock. He went to one elbow and pushed Jeremiah’s hand out of the way, taking Jeremiah’s cock and stripping it brutally.

  “But it was mine. It is. I did that, we did that, it’s so hot, I’m sorry, I can’t help it, it’s so hot, Jeremiah.” Alex was snapping his hips now, rubbing just right at Jeremiah’s prostate, and the words he was saying, it was too much, almost.

  “Alex,” he moaned. “I love that it’s yours. I love it.” So suddenly it caught him by surprise, Jeremiah came, clenching down, yowling a little in a way that would definitely embarrass him later but he couldn’t worry about now.

  Alex groaned. “Carson.” He jerked Jeremiah for a bit longer until Jeremiah had to push his hand away, panting, and Alex buried his face in Jeremiah’s neck and chased his own orgasm, going hard, jerking, and then coming inside him, sighing into Jeremiah’s neck.

  Afterward, winded, they lay in sheepish silence.

  “Fuck me,” Jeremiah finally said. “That was some kinky-ass shit.”

  They dissolved into helpless giggles. Jeremiah turned on his other side and looked at Alex, face red from laughter and also embarrassment. He leaned forward and kissed him, laughing into his mouth until they quieted and were just brushing their lips against each other softly.

  Sighing, Alex pulled back. He ran his eyes over Jeremiah’s body, and Jeremiah wanted to cover up, because out of the heat of the moment he felt fat and ugly again, and Alex looked so good, lean and still all sweaty and pink everywhere.

  But then Alex placed his hand on Jeremiah’s naked belly, and Jeremiah resisted.

  “I can’t believe I get to have this,” Alex marveled. He rubbed along Jeremiah’s belly. He brushed a kiss onto Jeremiah’s forehead. “I can’t believe.” He flashed a quick, disbelieving grin at no one.

  Jeremiah twisted and wrapped his arms around Alex, hugging him tight, unable to breathe for a minute.

  He couldn’t speak, too overcome. Alex didn’t push him, just let him lightly strangle him with the force of his hug, murmuring softly, the baby tucked away safely between them.

  ***

  They told Fabian together, or really, Jeremiah sat next to Alex while he told Fabian.

  Emily was out, which made Jeremiah nervous. He wanted an ally, and Fabian looked suspicious as soon as they sat down.

  Alex spoke for a while, serious and straightforward, Jeremiah too nervous to let out a single noise. He felt Fabian staring at him the entire time Alex spoke.

  When Alex was done speaking, Fabian’s eyes went wide.

  “Are you serious?” he demanded. He was still staring at Jeremiah. He sat on the edge of the couch, arms rigid propped on his knees. “Are you kidding me, Carson?”

  “No, it’s real,” Alex said. He sounded tenser than when he’d been explaining it to Fabian in the first place. “It’s mine. The baby is mine.”

  But Fabian barely seemed to hear him. “And you just kept it from him?” he asked Jeremiah.

  Jeremiah exhaled shakily. No use lying anymore. He nodded shortly.

  “I can’t believe you,” Fabian fumed. “That’s so fucked up. How could you lie about something like that? How could you?”

  Jeremiah didn’t know what to say. How did you explain the logic behind a panic response? How did you tell someone what it felt like to exist in a state of suspended terror for months until you couldn’t even think anymore?

  “All this time, you’ve just been lying to Alex? To all of us?” Fabian shot to his feet, pacing a few times until he came to a stop, looming over Jeremiah on the couch. “How could you do such a thing, Carson?.”

  Jeremiah had no fight left in him. He stared down at the carpet. He just wanted to melt away. He put his hand on the swell of his stomach reflexively and tried to drift away from this room, the guilt and self-hatred so thick he could feel it on his skin.

  Alex stood up in one sudden movement, startling Fabian into momentary silence. Jeremiah watched them both, nervous, as Alex planted his feet so his shoulder was firmly between Fabian and Jeremiah on the couch. Jeremiah wanted to laugh at the absurdity that he would ever need someone to protect him from Jeremiah Ellison of all people, but still, in the moment, he was so grateful.

  “You need to calm down, Jeremiah,” he told Fabian sternly, voice so low it was barely audible.

  Fabian made a scornful, disbelieving sound. “Are you fucking with me? How are you so calm, you should be freaking out!” Out of the corner of his eye, Jeremiah saw Fabian gesture sharply in his direction. “This whole thing is fucked.”

  Jeremiah heard Alex take a deep breath. He looked up and saw Alex lean forward, just slightly. Crowding Fabian until Fabian rolled his eyes and backed away.

  “I know this is a lot to handle,” Alex said, evenly, in his press secretary voice. “It was a shock for me too. But Carson and I have talked about it, and even though keeping it from me was wrong, I’m glad he told me, and I want to be a part of this with him.”

  It wasn’t quite the ringing declaration of love and devotion that Jeremiah stupidly hoped for, but Alex was standing next to him, close enough that the back of his leg was pressed against the fronts of Jeremiah’s knees, and he wasn’t moving away. He was staring Fabian down, every word confident, like he wanted Fabian to argue.

  Fabian still looked absolutely disgusted. He turned away, like he couldn’t even bear to look at Jeremiah. Like he didn’t even know him.

  “Whatever,” he said, back to them both. “Thanks for telling me, I guess.”

  Jeremiah waited for more, but Fabian was apparently done with them. Swallowing, Jeremiah began the process of getting up from Fabian’s deep, comfy couch. It involved a lot of rocking to build momentum, and he could
n’t quite manage it until Alex reached down to pull him up with a hand on his elbow.

  “I’ll give you a call later,” Alex said, and turned for the door, leaving Jeremiah no choice but the follow along.

  It was clear Fabian didn’t want him in his house right now, anyway.

  Jeremiah paused as he walked by Fabian, still staring pointedly into the empty kitchen rather than at Jeremiah. “I’m really sorry,” he said, helpless. “It all just got so out of control really fast, and I was so scared, and I was an idiot.” He was crying again. God, all the time with this shit. He wiped at his streaming eyes. “I’m sorry, Jeremiah.”

  He felt Alex put an arm around his waist. “Let’s go,” he said quietly into the shell of Jeremiah’s ear.

  Out on the lawn, Jeremiah stuttered to a stop. Alex stood next to him, still holding his arm, instantly alert. “You okay? What is it?”

  “I really am sorry,” he said miserably. It seemed impossible that there would ever come a time when he wasn’t repeating it over and over. When he wouldn’t owe it to Alex, every second of every day.

  Alex sighed. He leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to Jeremiah’s forehead.

  “We’ll figure this out, Carson.” He breathed against the thin skin of Jeremiah’s temple for a moment. “Fabian will be okay. You know how he is, he gets really caught up thinking he knows people so well, and then when they surprise him, he freaks out a little.”

  Jeremiah didn’t say that Fabian’s anger just made Jeremiah feel more justified in hating himself.

  As Alex led him back to his house, touching him so gently, attentive as usual, it was all Jeremiah could do not to curl into himself and wilt.

  He managed it, though. He kept his hand on his belly and kept on walking until he was safe in the house, Alex by his side.

  That had to be enough. He would make it enough.

  ***

  The baby moved for the first time four days later.

  Fabian still wasn’t talking to him, and seemed content to avoid him for the entire week, and the most he’d seen of Emily was when she’d mournfully waved at him from the driveway while Fabian ignored him where he waited inside the car.

  He was on the porch, sadly watching them drive away, when he felt it.

  “Whoa.” It was so weird, and also kind of anticlimactic. It felt like a shiver, but from the inside.

  He put his hand to his belly, but he could only feel the tiniest flutter.

  “Alex!” he hollered, probably louder than he needed to, but he was freaking out a little.

  Alex came clattering onto the porch, turning Jeremiah around so he could run his hands all over him like thought he’d been the victim of a drive-by. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He laughed, giddy. “It moved.” He yanked Alex’s hand to his belly. “It moved, I felt it.” Like it knew it was being called, it moved, a small shiver of movement. “Can you feel it?”

  Alex was frowning, in deep concentration. His mouth drooped. “I don’t think so.”

  Jeremiah laughed again. He felt high almost. “Well, I think that’s normal. It might be a few more weeks before you can feel it, too. The little late bloomer.”

  It was all Jeremiah could do not to bonk his stomach into him and squeeze him tight around the waist until his head popped off like a dandelion, ferociously tender.

  Man, he was in a weird mood. Good, though. Hopeful.

  Throwing an arm around Jeremiah, Alex said, “Well, until then I still say we should just find out the sex. It’s so weird calling it an ‘it.’”

  Jeremiah bit his lip against his smile. He nudged his shoulder against Alex. “‘We,’ huh?”

  Alex went still, unsure. “Yeah is that…okay?”

  Jeremiah nodded. His eyes were damp again, maudlin and unable to do anything about it. He nestled into Alex’s chest, still clutching his belly with one hand, the baby shifting lightly every couple of minutes.

  “I want it to be a surprise,” Jeremiah admitted. “But if you want to find out, that’s fine, too.”

  As Alex considered, he secretly thrilled, pleased Alex wasn’t reflexively following Jeremiah on this at least.

  “No,” he said finally. “I want to be surprised, too. I just don’t like the ‘it’ thing.”

  “A few more months and we’ll know for sure.” It felt wild, being able to talk about this so openly. No secrets. Jeremiah shook his head. So wild.

  He rubbed at his stomach, Alex covering the top of his hand with his own warm palm.

  “Hey, in there,” Jeremiah said shakily, feeling like an idiot talking to nothing.

  It was really happening.

  They stood on the porch for a while longer, Jeremiah straining for every tiny movement the baby made, until Alex made him go inside.

  ***

  Jeremiah suspected Fabian probably would have had held on to his pique for another few weeks if he hadn’t had to save Jeremiah from fainting and cracking his head all over the sidewalk a week later.

  He went down to get the mail while Alex hopped in the shower, and when he turned around he saw Fabian watching him from his front window. He pretended like he was just drinking coffee and reading his tablet near the window, but Jeremiah knew better. He could see him glancing up at him every few moments.

  Part of him almost craved the reminder of what an idiot he was when he thought of Fabian and his outrage, and part of him, a growing part, wanted his other best friend to forgive him already so they could get back to normal.

  Maybe it was selfish. So what, Jeremiah was selfish a lot of the time, so it felt on brand. He didn’t have time right now to fight with Fabian. He had everything happening with the baby, and the increasingly overwhelming way he felt about Alex, and all the work as the summer wore into fall.

  He shoved his mail to his chest and rolled his eyes very visibly and dramatically in Fabian’s direction.

  He must have been overly zealous in his execution, though, because the next thing he knew he was abruptly dizzy and crumpling to the ground.

  When he opened his eyes, he was propped up against the mailbox. He still felt dizzy. He scrambled for his belly right away, worried he had fallen on it or something. He clutched at it like he would be able to feel that if something had happened to the baby that way or something.

  “Jeremiah?”

  Fabian was crouched in front of him, face creased in worry.

  “Fabian?” he croaked out. “What the hell?”

  “You keeled over,” Fabian supplied. “I saw it from inside.” He peered at Jeremiah’s face. “It was very graceful, though. Just slid to the ground. Like a ballerina.”

  Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “I knew you were watching me from inside.”

  Fabian’s mouth tightened, but he still offered Jeremiah his hand and waited patiently as Jeremiah slowly clambered to his feet with Fabian’s help.

  He expected Fabian to let him walk away, remain in his huff for a little longer, but instead, he kept at Jeremiah’s elbow as Jeremiah walked slowly back into the house.

  Alex was still in the shower when Fabian followed Jeremiah into his house. Penny rushed over, worried like she could tell something was off.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said, letting her jump on his legs even though that was usually Not Allowed. “All fine.”

  He sat at the kitchen table. Fabian hovered in the doorway. “Does that happen a lot?

  Jeremiah bit his lip. “First time. The doctor said it would probably happen soon, though. Relatively normal, which is bullshit.”

  “How have you been feeling overall, though?” Fabian looked twitchy as he asked.

  Before Alex moved down, there had been nearly a month and a half where Fabian was his go-to complaining vessel. If Jeremiah had a pregnancy grievance, Fabian was the first to hear about, serenely interested in all of Jeremiah’s bullshit, big and small.

  Jeremiah tried to remember that as he said, stiffly, “Fine, mostly. Getting a little sick in the mornings sometimes.
Everything hurts. Apparently, I swoon when I go to get the mail sometimes.”

  Fabian laughed, the easy boom Jeremiah had been really missing, and sat down on a bar stool. “So it’s going really well, then.” Then, tentatively, “But you’ve been okay?”

  Jeremiah crossed his arms, relieved but needing to be annoyed to hide it.

  “Why do you care?” he asked sullenly. “Does that mean you’re done punishing me now?

  Fabian sighed, annoyed. “I wasn’t punishing you. I just-I was surprised.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Jeremiah corrected, “And mad at me.”

  “And mad at you, fine.” Fabian shrugged. “I guess I’ve been more freaked out about this than I realized. More worried about you. About what you might be hiding next.”

  Fuck, that hurt. Jeremiah looked at his lap.

  “No, I mean-you must have been freaking out that whole time about things with Alex and you never told me. You just decided to grin and bear it. It felt shitty, that you didn’t think you could tell any of us. You just kept it in.”

  Such a boy scout. Jeremiah scowled at him. “I always say when something’s wrong. I always complain.”

  “But not about big stuff. Not when it comes to asking for help.” Fabian smiled bemusedly. “You’re way too stoic, in a weird backwards-ass way.’

  Jeremiah didn’t know what to say to that

  “I guess it’s good that Alex’s here, then. You don’t seem to have a problem with telling him what you want.”

  As though summoned, Alex poked his head in the kitchen door. “I thought I heard you-oh. Hey, Fabian.” He looked warily from Jeremiah to Fabian, unsure. “All good?” he asked Jeremiah.

  “I’m hungry and my feet hurt and I fainted outside.” Jeremiah held his hands out, all what can you do?

  Alex started in alarm and hurried over. “What? Really? Did you hurt yourself? Are you okay?” He ran his hands down Jeremiah’s shoulders and arms, searching.

  Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m gravely injured, that’s why I’m sitting calmly at the table now.” He jabbed his chin in Fabian’s direction. “Fabian decided to stop throwing a tantrum and came to my rescue.”