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Omega's Stepbrother

Page 32

by Anna Wineheart


  “Yes, he is.” Wyatt swatted at him. “I feel it in my bones.”

  Raph wasn’t sure how that worked, but he wasn’t going to question it.

  Halfway to the apartment, Wyatt winced. “No, wait. I think the labor’s starting. Let’s head to the hospital.”

  Raph forgot to breathe. “Already? I thought you said it’d be a while yet.”

  “Hospital, Raph.”

  Raph took the nearest U-turn, and hit the gas. Would they get there in time? Would Wyatt give birth in the car? The hospital was ten minutes away—Raph wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do. He should’ve read up on births in greater detail.

  He held his breath as they sailed down the streets, the Sunday morning traffic light. Wyatt rubbed his belly. Raph glanced at the cars around him, looked in his mirrors, hyperaware of the traffic. He had to get his omega to the hospital safe. Their baby would be here soon.

  Gods, he wanted to see what their baby would look like, wanted to hold him in his arms. “Fuck, I can’t wait.”

  Wyatt cracked a smile. “You really can’t. You’re amazing.”

  Raph rolled his eyes. He was just Raph, not amazing or anything.

  Then Wyatt winced again, and Raph panicked a little. “We’ll be there soon, I promise.”

  The hospital’s parking lot was almost full when they pulled in. Raph parked, cut the engine, and hurried around to Wyatt’s side, opening the door for him.

  “I can do this myself,” Wyatt said.

  “Let me help,” Raph said. “You’re gonna be swearing at me later.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Watched too many movies, have you?”

  “You’re not going to swear later?”

  “I’d probably curse you to hell and back.” Wyatt grinned, squeezing his hand. “It’ll be the first time I have someone I know with me.”

  Raph’s heart ached. “Not just anyone,” he said, sliding his arm around Wyatt’s waist. “You’ll have your alpha with you.”

  Wyatt blushed, a rosy tint on his cheeks. Raph grabbed the overnight bag, and they made their way slowly across the parking lot, Wyatt waddling, Raph supporting him.

  “I bought a cow plush along for you,” Raph said, nodding at the overnight bag. “It’s in there.”

  Wyatt raised his eyebrow. “I never did ask why you got one for each of us.”

  “I’d spoken with Sam for a bit. He said his brother got a giraffe plush for his omega—I thought you and Hazel might want one, too. Then Hazel wanted to get one for her brother, and it seemed odd if there wasn’t one for me.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Is it right at the top of the bag?”

  “Yeah.” Raph grinned, unzipping the bag, handing the plush toy to Wyatt.

  The cow was a tiny thing, with silky-soft fur and little friendly eyes, and a wide smile under its muzzle. There were two above their bed—Ben’s was in his cot, waiting for him.

  Wyatt hugged it to himself, a smile breaking across his face. “It’s so adorable.”

  Raph shrugged, but couldn’t help smiling. “Thought of names for the cow?”

  “Yeah. I think I want to call it Cow.”

  “Cow? Really?”

  “Why not?”

  Raph shrugged, and Wyatt pressed a kiss to Raph’s shoulder, his other arm cradling his belly.

  They checked in quickly. Raph sat Wyatt in a wheelchair, and the nurse wheeled him to the labor ward, where Raph helped him onto the bed.

  Halfway through, with his feet still on the floor, Wyatt winced again. He squeezed Raph’s hand, and breathed out, his face paling. “Fuck, that hurt.”

  Raph grimaced. “Sorry.”

  “It’ll be worth it.” Wyatt smiled, then wriggled onto the bed, his movements awkward with his belly so big. Raph leaned in, scooped him up, and set him against the pillows. Wyatt sighed, making himself comfortable. “Did I get a lot heavier?”

  “You’ll never be too heavy for me.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes, but he was smiling wider, now.

  The midwife was a younger omega, one who didn’t know who they were. Wyatt leaned into Raph when she appeared, relaxing. At some point, they would have to figure things out, like what they told people about their relationship, and what their children shared with their classmates at school. Maybe they’d move out of Meadowfall by then, or maybe they’d be okay staying here.

  Either way, Raph was certain that things would turn out fine. They had the support of their parents, and they had the resources to move. If things got messy for their children, they would relocate, to somewhere where he and Wyatt would be seen as alpha and omega, and not brothers.

  “Oh, fucking hell,” Wyatt hissed, crushing Raph’s fingers in his grip. Raph held him, leaned over to stroke his back.

  “Push,” Raph said. “Push!”

  Wyatt glared. “Don’t you dare, Raph. Don’t you fucking dare.”

  “That’s supposed to happen, isn’t it?” Raph grinned. “I annoy you with all the unhelpful suggestions, and you snap at me.”

  Wyatt frowned. Then he grinned, breathing in. “Fine. Tell me to push. It’s not like I don’t know what to do.”

  And Wyatt was probably glad, too, from the way he looked down at their hands, his eyes soft. Raph could only imagine Wyatt ten years ago, lying by himself on a hospital bed, in labor, with no family around him.

  So he pressed a kiss to Wyatt’s temple, running his wrist down his omega’s forearm. “You’ll smell like me when you give birth,” Raph said. “You’ll smell like you’re mine.”

  Wyatt’s smile spread across his face.

  “Okay, now push again,” Raph said. “You’re not trying hard enough.”

  Wyatt smacked his arm. “Why don’t you try giving birth, and tell me what that feels like.”

  Raph grinned. He stroked Wyatt’s belly, felt the bump of their child. “I would, you know. Just tell me how.”

  Wyatt laughed. Then he tugged Raph onto the bed with him, so they were sitting side-by-side, Wyatt smelling like magnolia and honey and teak. Wyatt pressed his face into Raph’s neck, and breathed.

  Time passed quickly. Wyatt’s contractions grew more frequent, until they were a few minutes apart. He’d wince as the pain rolled through him, his belly firm through the contraction. Raph eyed Wyatt’s abdomen, acutely aware of the silvery scar there, the threat it held to Wyatt’s safety.

  The midwife checked the fetal heart monitor, and Raph watched her for signs of anything wrong. She showed them their baby’s pulse on the monitor—it was fine. Raph relaxed slightly. “Feel okay? No horrible pain?”

  “No,” Wyatt panted, his hair damp with sweat.

  Midway through, the midwife reached into Wyatt with gloved fingers. Raph tried to stop growling. He’s mine. The instinct didn’t make sense; Wyatt was already his. But Raph wanted to be the only one to touch his omega, wanted Wyatt and their baby all to himself.

  “You’re halfway dilated,” the midwife said, smiling. “Not long to go!”

  Three hours in, the contractions came quicker. Wyatt clung to Raph’s arm, sweating, panting as his body squeezed. Raph rubbed his back, held on to him as he cried out.

  It seemed an eternity before the doctor came over. Wyatt’s scar tissue was still holding up. Raph couldn’t help the tendril of worry that still gripped him—as long as the baby wasn’t born, he’d be afraid that Wyatt’s belly would rupture. His stomach twisted.

  He ran his fingers through Wyatt’s hair, pressing kisses to his forehead. “Not long now.”

  Wyatt chuckled weakly. “You know that much, huh?”

  “Not really.” Raph gave a sheepish grin. “I just don’t want you to be in pain.”

  Then Wyatt cried out again, and Raph held his hand, his heart pounding. The doctor and midwife both monitored Wyatt, and Wyatt heaved, his teeth bared, his hair plastered to his face. Gods, Raph loved him so damn much.

  “I’m gonna kill you, Raph,” Wyatt hissed between gasping, his knuckles white.

  “Remember you s
aid that,” Raph told him.

  “Sure I will.”

  “Almost there,” the doctor said.

  Wyatt grimaced, and gave a great heave. Then Raph glimpsed a bloody mess sliding into the doctor’s hands, and his heart thumped. Wyatt flopped back onto the bed, panting. He didn’t seem to be in pain.

  The midwife took over with the baby. Raph went to Wyatt’s side, brushing damp hair off his forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Great,” Wyatt breathed, his eyes half-lidded.

  Wyatt had done so much, and Raph’s chest was too small for everything he felt for his omega. He leaned in close, pressed kisses to Wyatt’s forehead. “So proud of you,” Raph whispered. “You did great.”

  Wyatt cracked a smile. “How’s my baby?”

  “It’s a healthy boy,” the midwife said, stepping over with the mostly-clean newborn. “Congrats!”

  Ben’s skin was flushed, smears of blood on his hands. He was the most perfect baby Raph had ever seen. His eyes were closed, and his fingers were tiny. Wyatt took the baby into his arms, his eyes tired and warm.

  Raph swallowed the tightness in his throat, slipping his arm around Wyatt’s shoulders. Their baby was born. Both Ben and Wyatt were fine.

  “He’s beautiful,” Wyatt whispered, kissing Ben’s head. “I think he looks like you.”

  Raph didn’t know which of them their baby resembled, only that Ben looked like an infant to him. And he was a dad. Hazel counted, but Raph hadn’t held her when she’d been a newborn.

  “Do you want to hold him?” Wyatt asked.

  Raph gulped. Could he? He’d never held a baby before.

  “We practiced, remember?” Wyatt said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Here.”

  He handed Ben to Raph, and Raph held his breath, cradling Ben’s head, supporting his bottom. He was so damn tiny in Raph’s hands, all heavy and warm and damp.

  Ben began to wail. Raph froze. For a person so small, Ben sure was loud. Wyatt laughed. “I think he’ll take some time to warm up to you.”

  That was fine. Raph had done that with Hazel. He’d do it again.

  He was a dad, as incredible as that was.

  He pressed a feather-light kiss to Ben’s forehead, then handed him back to Wyatt, wrapping his arms around his son and omega. “Can’t wait to bring you both home.”

  Wyatt grinned, tipping his face up. Raph kissed him, his heart full. In an hour or so, Penny would bring Hazel over, and maybe Mom and Dad would be here, too. Raph couldn’t wait to show Ben to them, have his family all together.

  They’d fought hard for this, him and Wyatt. And Raph breathed Wyatt in, knowing this time, he’d stand by Wyatt no matter what. They were in this together for the decades to come.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  “Have you seen Ben?” Wyatt asked, stopping by the nursery door.

  “He’s on the mattress,” Raph said, glancing up from the half-braided locks of Hazel’s hair. Then he turned to look at the low mattress behind him, and froze. “Shit. He was just here!”

  “He’s gone?” Hazel frowned, setting down her mess of jigsaw pieces. She moved, and her hair slipped out of Raph’s fingers.

  “Damn it, princess. I was almost done.” Raph scowled, releasing Hazel’s hair. He stood up, combing the neat, tight twists of Hazel’s hair loose. “Ben was asleep when I started the braids. He couldn’t have gone far—it hasn’t been half an hour.”

  “I saw him sleeping, too,” Hazel said.

  Wyatt held his breath, casting his thoughts about for where Ben shouldn’t have gone. Ben had just begun crawling two months ago. Most days, he tired himself out from crawling, and napped for hours after. “Come on, let’s split up and search. I hope he isn’t chewing on the houseplants.”

  Better the houseplants, than Ben hurting himself somehow.

  They split up, Hazel peering into the corners of the nursery, and Wyatt checking Hazel’s bedroom. Raph looked into the kitchen, then the bedroom he shared with Wyatt. Two minutes later, they met in the living room, shaking their heads. It shouldn’t have been difficult—they were still in the same apartment Wyatt had always lived in. He knew this place inside-out.

  “Did you check under the beds?” he asked.

  “I did,” Hazel said.

  “Yeah. I even looked behind the curtains,” Raph said.

  Wyatt winced, the alarm bells in his head clanging. The front door was locked, and Ben couldn’t reach the windows yet. Where could he have gone?

  “Let’s search again. It shouldn’t take three people to find a baby.” Wyatt had heard stories of cats that hid themselves away, not appearing until they wanted to be found. But Ben was twelve months old—he couldn’t scale cabinets and shelves yet.

  “Maybe he’s hiding in a closet,” Hazel said.

  Raph and Wyatt looked at her. “I haven’t checked the closet,” Raph said slowly.

  “Neither have I,” Wyatt answered, his thoughts racing. The closet was a far better alternative than the kitchen, or the bathrooms.

  Raph returned to the nursery. Hazel checked her own room. Wyatt stepped into the master bedroom, looking behind the plain bedroom door, and the space between the bed and the dresser. Then he turned to the closet, where there was a half-foot gap between the open sliding door, and the wall.

  Gingerly, Wyatt slid the doors back, holding his breath. Ben had to be in here somewhere. There were no aliens in this world, or vampires, or anything that could sneak into the apartment.

  In the middle of the laundry hamper, on top of his and Raph’s dirty clothes, Ben was curled up, sleeping with his thumb in his mouth.

  Wyatt stared; he hadn’t thought Ben could climb yet.

  He was about to pull his phone out, maybe take a picture, when Raph stepped into the room.

  “Couldn’t find him,” Raph said, forehead creased.

  “He’s here.” Wyatt smiled, nodding at the hamper.

  Raph crossed the room, his eyebrows crawling up. “Sneaky little brat! I just looked in our room!”

  “Shh, you’ll wake him.”

  Raph grinned, slipping his arm around Wyatt’s waist. “Didn’t think to look in the closet. I should’ve.”

  “He just climbed into the hamper, Raph! He’s starting to climb!” Wyatt had been about to say, Ben’s going to get into so much more trouble now, but Raph’s eyes lit up.

  “That’s great, isn’t it?” Raph grinned, crouching to scoop Ben into his arms. “Not sure why he’d want to sleep in the basket, though. It’s full of dirty clothes.”

  “Because it smells like us? Or food?” Wyatt chuckled. They’d returned to work at the drive-in when Ben was six months old. The staff never said a word about Wyatt and Raph’s relationship; either they didn’t mind, or they weren’t aware. No one mentioned the ring on Wyatt’s finger, either.

  But morale at the diner was high, and that was all Wyatt wanted—a safe place where he and Raph could work, and where their children could grow up.

  Ben stirred when Raph straightened, his eyelids fluttering open. He had Wyatt’s hazel eyes, and Raph’s black hair.

  “Hey,” Raph murmured, kissing Ben on the forehead. “You scared us for a moment, there.”

  “Dada,” Ben mumbled, blinking sleepily up at him.

  Raph broke into a huge, silly grin. “Can’t believe how excited I get every time he says that. Dada.”

  “Dada,” Ben said again, wriggling his fingers. Wyatt pressed his index finger against Ben’s palm. Ben held him, his grip loose. He’d grown so much since he was an infant; they’d been going through baby clothes, changing them out every few months.

  Wyatt stepped closer to Raph, stroking Ben’s hair from his forehead. “Are you hungry? I made oats for you.”

  Ben smiled, five little white teeth on his gums.

  “Gods, he’s so cute,” Raph said. “But only when he isn’t flinging food at me.”

  “Or peeing on you.” Wyatt laughed. Raph rolled his eyes. “Remember
the time you were going to kiss him? And he peed all over your new shirt.”

  “Not like he didn’t pee on you, too.”

  But unlike Raph had feared, he hadn’t dropped Ben. In the first few months after Ben was born, they’d slept with Ben between them on the bed, before moving him to the crib some months later. Ben loved applesauce, and teething biscuits, and he’d been smiling along when Wyatt played on the piano.

  Wyatt snuggled into Raph’s side, slipping his arms around his alpha, and their baby. Ben smelled like baby soap. Wyatt pressed his nose into Raph’s neck, just breathing in, Raph’s warmth soaking through his shirt.

  “I’m glad I’m doing all this with you,” Wyatt murmured. “I don’t know what it would’ve been like by myself.”

  “Don’t even think about that,” Raph said, sliding his fingers through Wyatt’s hair. “You’re doing great with the kids.”

  “So are you. And you’re a first-time dad, too.”

  Raph grinned, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve got you. It’s my chance to show you what a great dad I am.”

  Wyatt snorted, slapping his ass. “When you aren’t goofing off with Hazel.”

  “Hey!” Raph frowned.

  “What did you say about me?” Hazel popped up in the doorway, nibbling on an apple. “Did you find Ben?”

  “He was in the laundry hamper,” Wyatt said. Raph turned, so Hazel could see her brother. “Looks like we’ll be searching the closets next time, too.”

  Hazel raised her eyebrows, whistling. “Looks like he’ll be great with hide-and-seek. I can’t wait for him to grow up!”

  Wyatt groaned. Ben, with his mischievous older sister? Who knew what those two would get up to? But Hazel was growing up, too. She was eleven now, and when Ben was five, she’d be fifteen. In four years, she might already have presented as alpha.

  “Gods, the children are growing up so fast,” Wyatt said. “Pretty soon, Ben will be old enough to walk down the aisle.”

  “For our wedding, or his own?” Raph grinned.

  “I meant ours.” Wyatt glanced at the ring on his finger. With the way time flew, it wouldn’t be long until Ben found his mate, too. “The more I think about it, the more I’m ready to be married.”

 

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