Snowed In: M/M Mpreg Alpha Male Romance

by Aiden Bates

  Sam was about to keep waxing lovey dovey, he might have gone on until he was ranting, but Clarkie stops him with a kiss. Sam engages with it, kisses Clarkie as long as Clarkie wants to kiss him, spit all over his mustache and everything, he doesn’t care. Did they bring a generation’s supply of shaving razors in here? Probably not. Clarkie’s going to have to get used to Sam with a full beard.

  Clarkie pulls back at last, and Sam can hear him sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. He kisses Clarkie in a few other places to wind down then asks him somewhat breathlessly, “What was that for?”

  Sam thinks he’s being goofy, that Clarkie will tell him he kissed him to shut him up or something, but he answers honestly.

  “You called me Clark,” he says quietly. “I don’t actually like being Clarkie, I just can’t ever get people to stop calling me that. I tell new people I meet, I told Alex, that everyone insists on calling me Clarkie. No one ever asks if that’s what I want to go by, they just pile on the Clarkie bandwagon. You just called me Clark. I was named after Superman, you know? He was no Clarkie.”

  “Well, maybe when he was a Superboy he was Clarkie,” Sam says, but he doesn’t mean to joke too much about this. That kiss made it pretty clear that Clarkie—Clark—is serious about this. “But I know you as Superman, Clark, I do.” Sam kisses his boy, his strapping young man, one more time. “I’ll call you Clark until we die, sweetheart.”

  Clark kisses him again, again, and again, as if to say, Thank you, and I love you too.

  18. Jeff Wins the Pot

  “You know, my so-called friends, they all think they’re the smart ones compared to me,” Jeff says to Julian when they feel the mountain start to hum. “But who’s the only one who thought to bring—” click “—a head-lamp for reading?”

  Julian starts giggling so much he nearly falls over. Jeff starts shuffling a deck of cards he brought along with his lamp. He starts dealing hands so he and Julian can play one-on-one poker. They don’t have anything to really bet with, no poker chips or potato chips, nothing, so they just play best three out of five for who gets to call what kind of sex they’ll have tonight. Everybody wins either way! Jeff’s pretty sure he’ll want to use this light like a miner’s cap, and go spelunking in Julian’s backcountry, but first he has to win a few hands, and to do that he needs to figure out Julian’s tell.

  Julian says he can see Jeff’s right away—apparently Jeff’s lips purse when he’s trying to keep a secret. He’s got to cinch it in, maybe? He has to work to keep himself from smirking? Oh well; he always gets caught in the lies he tells face-to-face, maybe that’s why he sticks so often to fiction.

  Julian discards two cards and picks up two more. He looks like he always does in the light from Jeff’s forehead. He’s probably performing at least two fake tells to fool Jeff with the dummy tells. Jeff can’t really read the subtleties of facial expression that well, that’s what he likes about Julian giving him instructions, and reacting with moans. Jeff can’t mistake that kind of stuff. If Jeff wins tonight, it’ll be by luck or because Julian lets him, he’s sure of it. Julian’s always in charge, he’s a what-d’ya-call-it, a power bottom. The performance of what they do together begins as soon as Jeff “takes over,” because that’s when they both start pretending that Jeff’s the man in charge. The farce of it all is half the pleasure, at least for Jeff—it’s the thrill of pretending he’d ever have the huevos to degrade Julian, when all he wants to do is serve him. It’s sort of like a captain and first lieutenant situation: You’re my right hand, I need you the most out of anyone, because you’re so excellent at taking orders and performing your duties as I see fit. Jeff’s getting turned on just speculating about it all. He suggests they start playing for best two out of three instead of three out of five, and Julian agrees. Jeff wants to get this night started already.

  “I wonder what the others are doing,” Julian says. “They all seem pretty dramatic, probably whispering all their secrets in case we take a direct hit. ‘I love you more,’ and, ‘No, darling, you couldn’t possibly, because I love you the most.’” Julian smirks—that’s his tell when he’s being a cheeky bitch. Jeff loves that.

  “Are you making fun of my friends?” he asks with a laugh. “My wonderful, oldest friends, who might die tonight? Julian, how could you! There are children in this bunker.”

  “Yeah, there’s two of ’em right here,” Julian says, discarding one card and going for another. He’s about to call, Jeff can tell that, because he’s squaring his shoulders. “I don’t know, your friends seem to take this end of the world stuff so seriously; if not for you I’d be going out the way my grandparents are doing it, just living it up until the curtain rings down, why not? You didn’t start this world and you didn’t end it, just go with the flow.”

  Jeff lays down his hand. He has a pair of sevens that beats Julian’s hand of nothing. If he wins the next hand they can stop playing and start fucking, that’s all he wants now. When Julian reshuffles though, Jeff gets one card from every stupid suit, all low, odd numbers—a garbage hand. This might mean they have to play even three or more games, and rats to that is what Jeff thinks. He wishes he could discard the whole damn hand and get a better one—he actually wants to win now.

  “You’re not sad you have to live in a box with me and my dramatic friends, are you? I mean, also, you know, whether we die tonight or of something else years down the line, you’ll have to die here too. I doubt Kevin’s going to be in favor of breaching the seals to let anybody out for a suicide mission.”

  “Well, then I’d just take Kevin out first if I wanted to leave, but I don’t want to leave, I want to live, if the opportunity presents itself. It has, and so here I am. I’m pretty lucky I’m getting locked in for eternity with someone who’s into kinky sex, though. Your friends are melodramatic but I bet they’re all plain vanilla on white bread toast in the sack, don’t you think? Their stories about getting with Alex alone … ‘Oh, I once got a handy-j from Alex but gasp! We were on an empty set at the time.’ I mean, please, I did more adventurous stuff in high school. I got fucked on the bleachers, Jeff, on them, okay? Not behind them. And I mean it wasn’t exactly during the big game or anything, but it was daylight, and there were people running the track, we just figured if they came up to nab us we could jump and run for it.”

  Jeff starts laughing so hard at this that he sincerely hopes these walls are as sound-proof as they seem; no one else seemed like they felt much like laughing when they turned in for the night.

  “You’re perfect,” Jeff tells Julian. He means it, too, he’s been dreaming his whole life that someone like Julian might really exist, and might find it in his heart to let Jeff touch him someday. Now Julian’s his to touch forever. The end of the world is the best thing that’s ever happened to Jeff.

  Jeff discards half his hand, picks up new cards and ends up with three 2’s—that’s literally the lowest three-of-a-kind he could make, but maybe it’ll do?

  “Is there anything you’ve ever wanted to try but haven’t yet? If you win you can ask for it tonight—it’s a whole new world and all, it seems like the perfect occasion,” Julian says.

  “I’ve always wondered what it was like to get fucked,” Jeff says. “Not that I’d want to try it with just anyone, which is why I’ve never gotten around to it yet, I guess. For me, first of all, I’m usually so keyed up to stick my own knob everywhere that I always want to do that first, and then I’ve never gotten past that first time with anyone else. You are literally the only person I’ve ever been with more than once. I don’t know if I’m a bad lay or what, but it’s the truth.”

  “You’re not a bad lay,” Julian says. “But I have strange tastes. Maybe you just needed someone who could appreciate the strange, instead of all the vanilla pudding types you hang around. Like, to them something wild would be tapioca. They’d never appreciate anything truly weird.”

  “Am I that weird?” Jeff says. “Is it easy to tell?”

  “It is,” Julian
says. “You’re as easy to read as your poker face. I don’t sit down with every guy who blows through the diner, you know, you just had kind of a neon sign about you that said you were looking for something to write home about, something new. It made sense to me that you were some kind of reporter, like you had a hankering for overturning rocks to see what crawled underneath, like that stuff gave you real pleasure. I was right about you.”

  “I’m glad,” Jeff says. Julian squares up again, preparing to call. “Have you ever wanted to do something you haven’t tried yet? Probably not, you seem like you follow your curiosities all the way to the end.”

  “I try to do everything I think I might like, yeah, but that’s what I like about being alive, I’ve yet to run out of ideas, you know? Like tonight, if I win, I’m thinking I want to break in one of those new pairs of heels we brought by having you put the heel part inside of me. I can’t believe I haven’t done that yet, gotten fucked by one of my many, many shoes—I love those things.” Julian lays down his hand. He’s got a pair of kings and a pair of aces. Jeff doesn’t know his poker very well, and so lays down his hand unsure of what it all means.

  “Does three-of-a-kind beat a double of two pairs?” he asks. Julian shrugs.

  “I don’t know the game that well, and it’s not like we can look it up anymore. Let’s make a new rule right now: does a three beat a pair of twos?”

  Jeff wants to get fucking, so he says, “Yes.”

  “Okay, then!” Julian says. “You’re the winner, so what’s your pleasure?”

  Before Jeff can answer, they feel a true tremor through the mountain, what feels like an impact with the ground. Something very large has landed very near to them, and it’s a nasty reminder that they could be wiped out at any moment—a sudden white-hot death or a crushing black implosion. Jeff is sure his friends are all having kittens right now. He’s sure those kids down the hall are really terrified. Jeff’s feeling a little scared now too, and angry at himself suddenly that he’s been playing games with Julian when this might really be their last few moments on Earth. It’s fine to joke about it, and it’s probably healthy to be so calm in the face of a death one can’t avoid, it means you’re at peace with what you’ve already done and who you are but … if Jeff dies holding a fan of playing cards instead of a dick, he’s doing it wrong.

  Jeff sweeps the cards onto the floor, and takes off the headlamp so he can crown Julian with it, make him the king. This is what he wants, for Julian to step out of his own fantasies of control for a moment and really take charge, since that’s what’s going on underneath it all anyway.

  “I want you to keep bossing me around, I like it,” he says, his voice faint and almost trembling from the fear he’s trying to turn into the ultimate sexual excitement: the ship’s sinking, the plane’s going down, it’s now or never. Get busy living or get busy dying, that’s Jeff’s motto tonight. “But, my only caveat is that you fuck me tonight. Do whatever you want, make me do whatever you want, but just give me that one guarantee. Is that okay? Tonight I want you to give it to me, give me whatever you’ve got.”

  Julian adjusts the headlamp’s band to fit his head, and then unfolds out of his crossed-legged seat on the bed to set his hand on Jeff’s shoulder and look him in the eye. Jeff has to squint to see him under that bright light, but he does it.

  “You know what this means?” Julian asks him, but Jeff doesn’t answer because it sounds a bit rhetorical. “This means we’re going to combine fantasies tonight. I’m going to fuck you, sure, sugar, whatever you want, but I’m also putting one of those heels up your ass too, just to see how well you take it before I try it myself. You’re my guinea pig tonight. I’m literally going to put my shoe up your ass.”

  Jeff’s mouth is too dry to speak, his lips hang open, gaping. Julian leans in to kiss him, and the light comes with him until it’s only pointed behind him. Julian’s tongue licks in and then slips out of Jeff’s mouth. Then the hand on Jeff’s shoulder urges him to go face down on the bed. Jeff is quick to comply.

  It’s a little surreal in this dark room with the spotlight of Julian’s gaze moving around behind Jeff. Julian prepares Jeff with spit (there was no real room for lube in the survival truck), and then sets the end of a heel at Jeff’s entrance.

  “Your job is to try and figure out which shoe this is before it kicks a hole in you, Jeff. When you guess right, I’ll fuck you.”

  Jeff feels blood flush to the skin all over his body like the dams have burst. This is no nuclear annihilation; he’s just horribly overwhelmed with desire. Jeff knows the shoe right when it’s going in—they brought ten new pairs, and there were very different heels, and only one had one that would be fair to stick inside a virgin asshole. It’s a white pair, slick latex, looks like the kind of pair a bride in a wedding-themed porn would wear, but Jeff doesn’t identify it right away. He wants Julian to get a good look at this, and he wants to get used to the feeling before it’s Julian who’s sliding in and out of him, he wants to welcome that feeling.

  Once he starts leveraging the shoe so that the heel starts to nudge Jeff’s prostate and make his legs weak, Julian says, “What color is the shoe in your ass right now?”

  “White,” Jeff whispers against the pillow where he’s slumped.

  Julian snatches the shoe away fast.

  “Correct, bitch,” Julian says.

  “Oh, god,” Jeff moans. He did not know he would like being called a bitch so much. You learn something new every day! You learn something interesting every night.

  “Are you ready for me?” Julian’s cock is at the door. “You’re about to be conquered.” Jeff braces himself. “I fuck you,” he whispers as his cock gains entry.

  Jeff practically cums the first time the thrust of Julian’s hips jolt him forward. Getting fucked for him is more than just allowing an insertion—he’s had a prostate exam in a doctor’s office, and that wasn’t this, that wasn’t anything but an awkward chore. Getting pounded, that makes the difference, getting slammed by the hips of the man who’s inside of you, that’s the ticket.

  Once Jeff’s orgasm labors out of him on its own (it feels like his orgasm is climbing a mountain and just rolling down the other side in exhaustion after reaching the peak), Julian grabs his hip bones and drives in until he finishes too, depositing his fluid inside of Jeff’s guts, and then removing himself and slapping one of Jeff’s cheeks lightly to mark his task done. Jeff relaxes his legs until he’s lying flat on his stomach. Julian lies down with his forearms resting on Jeff’s back, just super casual, feeling comfortable and refreshed after fucking his partner. Jeff treasures the feel of Julian’s weight on his back.

  “We’re still alive,” Julian whispers to him, with a kiss on his earlobe. They both have realized the rumbling of the mountain has stopped.

  “Good,” Jeff says. He’d be pretty upset if he could never do this again; the first time shouldn’t also be the last time. Jeff’s a lucky guy.

  In one way or another, everyone in Alexandria has gotten lucky tonight.

  Bonus: The Sun Also Riseth

  It takes fifteen years for everyone to hook their cars to the breeding train. Greg has two boys in the first five years, then Glenn and Kevin have a third, then bearded, rugged Sam and his Clarkie decide they want one, just one, about ten years in, and that kid is finally a girl (Kevin, though his beard is weak compared to Sam’s, apparently shoots nothing but Y-chromosomes). Then at last Julian and Jeff are expecting. That is to say, Jeff is expecting.

  It amused Julian to watch everyone try to parse that out. He knows they’ve got the most interesting sex life in the bunker. Everyone else is so in love they only get off respecting each other all day, it sounds pretty boring whenever Julian hears someone else at it. He feels the worst for Greg, of course, who only gets laid for the sake of having another kid and the rest of the time just handles his own needs. Julian tried to sound his openness to joining him and Jeff whenever he was desperate, but Greg assured him very emphatically that
he would never be desperate enough to want to have sex with Jeff. His loss, as far as Julian’s concerned; Jeff’s fantastic at taking orders. That’s how he ended up in his condition.

  The rest of the group is so binary, Tops or Bottoms, no versatility. Julian lived in a world of fetish and fantasy before this place for a reason, he likes to stretch his mind, find his sexual limits, be someone else for a scenario or two. He’s never gotten in the family way, he might not be able to, he’s never spared much thought for it all because it never came up. Jeff clearly can get knocked up though—the nights when Julian gives it to Jeff are occasional at best, but one of them finally found seed and took root. Jeff and Julian think it’s hilarious. Everyone else thinks the kid already has the worst luck in parents. Their judgments and assumptions don’t bother Julian. You live a weird life and cultivate strange tastes—people don’t want to understand sometimes. Julian just hopes the kid is a fellow ginger, but he’ll love whatever comes out.

  “Come be weird with us,” Julian says to Jeff’s bump when they’re alone. “We need to stack the deck against all these normal, wholesome bores, baby, get out here!”

  Jeff lets Julian say whatever he wants to the bump. He’s adapting to the surprise pretty well, considering the assumptions everyone else had that it would be Julian to carry this weight should it arrive. Jeff’s even attempting to join the little baby-talk party that has been Glenn and Greg’s friendship for their entire duration underground, but that’s not going as smoothly—Glenn and Greg like being exclusive friends. Julian doesn’t know what precious thing they think they’re guarding with that; half their conversations are about body fluids, and not the fun kinds, more like the consistency of diaper contents. Who’s dying to join that group?