by Bates, Aiden
Alex disposed of the test and emerged, dragging his feet the whole time. He didn’t want to resent the little bundle of cells growing inside of him, but he couldn’t help it. Everything was going to change.
He would lose his job. He’d lose his home. He’d have to go back to Texas, and he wouldn’t be able to keep a roof over his parents’ head there, either. Three generations would be sharing the same cardboard box.
And it would be all his fault, for not making personally sure each and every condom was flawless. Truth be told, he shouldn’t have been having sex at all, not until he could be sure he could afford a baby.
Jordan met him at the door to the bedroom. “So? Are we good?”
Alex let Jordan guide him to the bed, tuck him back in, and put the tray table back in front of him. He ate his pineapple as he spoke. “Well, I’m pregnant.”
Jordan shouted with joy. “That’s so awesome!”
Alex stared at him, jaw slack. “How can you say that?” he asked, when he found words again. “It’s a disaster!
“I mean, I’m hanging on by a thread at work as it is, you’re working your day job and your night job — and don’t kid yourself, it’s something you love, but your art is a job, and you get taxed on what you make from it. We can’t afford to have a baby.”
Jordan’s smile didn’t diminish at all. “Alex, we can afford to do whatever we want. We just have to be creative to do it. We’ll figure something out, and we’ve got time.
“You’re a genius, right? You’ll find a way to make sense of it that includes all possibilities. And the bank can’t fire you for being pregnant. Not in Massachusetts.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Not openly; they’ll dress it up as ‘performance issues.’” He rubbed at his face.
“They’re a good place to work. They’re not like that. I don’t know of anyone who’s lost their job because they were pregnant, but Chad’s been there longer than I have, and his father’s spent his whole career there.
“He’s been good about sharing the unwritten rules around there, and believe me, someone at my level in the company absolutely cannot get away with being pregnant. Especially not a guy, and especially not an unmarried guy. And no one’s going to hire a pregnant guy.”
He grabbed his hair and pulled. “This is a disaster. It’s an unmitigated disaster. My parents are going to lose their trailer.”
Jordan disengaged Alex’s hands from his hair. He was gentle but firm about it. “Honey, you can’t hurt yourself about it. That’s not going to help anything. What you need to do is research. Figure out what we need to get by, and what our expenses will be.”
Alex straightened up. “Yes! You’re right. A plan. We need a plan.” He took a deep breath to center himself.
His hands shook as he reached for his coffee, and his insides didn’t seem to be doing much better, but he could get control of this situation. He’d do it the way he always did. Planning and determination won the day every time. “It is we, right?”
Jordan chuckled and ruffled his head. “Yes. It’s we. This is our baby, yours and mine, and we’re going to love it together.”
Warmth spread through Alex’s body, moving from the center of his chest and out through his extremities. His insides settled, and his shaking hands stabilized enough that he didn’t spill his coffee. “Okay. Okay. I’ll need my laptop.”
Jordan smiled and went to get Alex’s briefcase, and Alex finished his breakfast. When Jordan brought it back, Alex opened it up. “I have a budgeting program I use, so we’ll create a theoretical budget here.”
He opened a new document in his budgeting program. “Okay. We can’t stay with the Allston crowd, because they’ll never be okay with having a baby around, and frankly, that’s not a great neighborhood to raise a kid in anyway.”
“I’m not in love with the schools in Boston myself, so we’ll probably have to move outside the city.” Jordan made a face. “I hate the thought of moving to the ’burbs, but if we have to, we have to.”
“The burbs have expenses of their own. Most of them require car ownership. Places like Somerville might be okay, but they aren’t any cheaper than where we are now. Quincy or Braintree might be manageable.
“Why don’t you get on and find us prices on some two-bedroom apartments in Quincy or Braintree, just to get a sense of the rental prices?” He plugged in numbers he already knew as he spoke. “Do you have health insurance?”
“I have some for myself.” Jordan whistled. “This place looks like a million bucks, probably because it is. But it’s got every amenity.”
“We don’t need every amenity. We need four walls, a roof, and safety. I know how much my insurance will go up with a partner and a kid, so I’ll plug those numbers in.” He added in a budget for groceries, for utilities, for transportation and for most of the other things he knew they needed.
Jordan came up with a range of apartment prices that made Alex wince, but housing prices were what they were, and he couldn’t change them. He got a rough estimate of Jordan’s income, assuming a bad year on both the art side and the portrait side. Alex wasn’t willing to count on more.
In the end, assuming Alex kept his job and they could find an apartment on the cheaper end of the spectrum, they would just break even. It meant they couldn’t afford much in the way of baby stuff, but that was probably for the best. Babies didn’t need that much “stuff” anyway, and they could thrift some things.
They wouldn’t be able to save anything, not for a very long time. They’d be completely screwed if anything happened, like a major illness or a flood. But the baby was coming, whether they were ready or not. At least this way they had a plan for it.
“What about bail money?” Jordan joked, looking at the budget.
Alex almost choked on his coffee. “What are you talking about, bail money?”
“I’m kidding. Mostly. Sometimes things happen at a protest, and the cops get involved — but for the most part, that’s rare. Don’t worry about it.”
Jordan wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Do you feel better about the baby, now that we have a plan that we can put into action?”
Alex thought about it. “I’m still anxious,” he said after a second. “There are a lot of ‘ifs’ in that plan. If I keep my job, if your work stays steady, if we don’t have any disasters.
“But we do have a plan. We know it’s possible. It’s not like I don’t have any savings. I think this is something we can probably manage to do. And I can’t pretend there isn’t something beautiful about starting a family with you.”
Jordan kissed him, and Alex let himself enjoy the moment.
* * *
Alex stripped himself of his pajama bottoms and let himself fall backwards onto Jordan’s bed. He forced all of his insecurities back into the farthest parts of his brain. Rationally, he knew he didn’t look any different, or smell any different.
Jordan would still want him. Jordan was a great guy, and would probably still want him as the baby grew.
If they could manage to overcome their very different attitudes toward money and the workplace.
He pushed the thought away and cradled Jordan’s face with his hands. He needed this. He wanted this, and if the way Jordan was tenting his sweats was any indication, he wanted it, too. “Yeah,” Jordan purred. “Look at you, getting all ready for me. Getting ready to celebrate, hm?”
Alex’s face got hot as he nodded. “Yes,” he said, stroking himself by way of suggestion. He spread his legs, just a little. “I mean this baby is part of us, right? It’s part of both of us.”
He didn’t really feel like that, not yet, but he knew he would once he had a chance to get used to it. And Jordan wanted him to feel that way, so he might as well fake it until he made it.
One thing he would never have to fake was the way Jordan made him feel. He loomed over Alex, strong arms on either side of him, hard, hot cock rubbing against his own as he teased Alex.
Alex was c
ompletely surrounded by Jordan. He felt perfectly safe. He felt at peace. The baby would be an issue later, but right now, it was something they could deal with in their own time.
He bucked his hips, trying to give Jordan another subtle hint. Sometimes he liked to have long, drawn-out sex. Right now, his need was too bad. He wanted to be filled. He needed Jordan inside of him, and he needed it right away.
Jordan must have gotten the message; Alex wasn’t being subtle. He just laughed, though. “Little bit of an eager beaver, are we?”
He put his hands on Alex’s hips and held him still. “What if I kept you just like this and teased you all day long, huh? Took my time, made you wait?”
Alex glowered at him. “Then I’d get myself off, thank you very much. This isn’t the movies.”
Jordan snickered and reached for the lube. He pulled out a condom, and then he hesitated. “Do we really need this? I mean, you’re already pregnant, so this box is obviously defective.”
Alex hadn’t thought he could possibly get any harder, but the flash of white-hot need that shot through him made it seem like what he’d felt before had only been minor infatuation. “Oh my God. Yes, please, do it. Please, please, please.”
Jordan looked deep into Alex’s eyes, and Alex thought he could see an inner fire reflected there. He wanted to catch that fire, to warm himself at it, to take a piece of it into himself and carry it with him.
Jordan slicked his fingers up. “So gorgeous when you beg like that,” he muttered. “It’s almost illegal. Come on, babe. Open up for me. Yeah, just like that.”
It didn’t take long for Alex. The only obstacle right now was anticipation. He wanted it too badly. He couldn’t stop thinking about what was to come. When he finally felt the hot, slick, bare head of Jordan’s cock pressing against his entrance, it was all he could do not to rock back and take him too fast.
Oh, yes. The condom didn’t dull that much sensation, and maybe with another guy he wouldn’t care that much. This, knowing it was all Jordan and nothing else, no barriers at all, was what made it such a heady experience.
He cried out. “More,” he begged. “I need more.”
Neither of them lasted long. Alex hadn’t intended for this to be a drawn-out affair when he started out, and it certainly wasn’t now. But when he came, untouched and perfectly satisfied, he could easily say it was the best sex he’d ever had.
Jordan kissed him before disappearing into the bathroom for a washcloth. When he was done cleaning them both, he stroked Alex’s face. “I promise, the next time we do that, I’ll last longer.”
Alex snuggled in close by his side. “It’s not about length of time, love. It’s the quality. And there’s no way anyone could beat that.”
14
Jordan propped himself against the yellow cinderblock wall in the holding cell and glanced around at the other protestors in the cell with him. He wouldn’t usually relax this much in jail, not even in a holding cell, but the people in his cell were literally all just other protestors. He was as safe as he could be.
Devon made a face at him. “Man, if I don’t get out of here soon I’m going to miss time at work, and I cannot afford that.” He rubbed at his face. “I get that we have to sacrifice for the cause and everything, but I can’t afford to work for the cause if I can’t afford to live.”
“True enough.” Jordan yawned. They might all be in one holding cell, and safe enough from people accused of serious crimes, but those other suspects were still around. They were able to be heard, and they wanted the protestors to hear them all night long. Jordan hadn’t slept much, and he was feeling it. “Why do you think they painted the cinder blocks yellow?”
“To hide the piss stains.” Devon wasn’t a subtle guy. “A hundred guys to a cell, and one very public commode? Gross, man. Gross.”
“Valid.” Jordan had been trying not to think about that. The stink was overwhelming. He kept waiting to go nose-blind, and it hadn’t happened yet.
“All right. Inmate Davenport to the front. The rest of you maggots stay to the back, or you’ll regret it.” Two guards walked up to the walls of their cage and barked at them. One had his hands on his taser, the other his nightstick.
Jordan knew the drill. It was hardly his first time being arrested. He stepped forward with his arms out, through the slit in the door. They cuffed him through the slit, and then they opened the door to let him through.
The two guards flanked him on either side as they walked him, not toward the processing area, but toward the infirmary.
This was not part of the routine.
He kept his mouth shut. He could ask the guards where they were going, but they wouldn’t tell him, and they’d probably smack him around for good measure.
He’d find out what was going on when they were good and ready to tell him, but he didn’t think he had much to worry about. He’d already called George and Cindy, and his parents would already have let their pro-bono lawyer know what was happening.
All Jordan had to do was wait it out.
He let himself be ushered into the infirmary, where the guards unshackled him and left him alone with the nurse. This, too, fell well outside of protocol.
The nurse was an older woman, with huge brown eyes and dark lips. She was also tiny, but everyone knew better than to mess with her. She wasn’t going to let anyone get away with any shenanigans. “Inmate. Good morning. How are you feeling today?”
Jordan bit back a snarky comment. The nurse was just there doing a job, and her job was to help inmates and take care of their medical needs. She probably didn’t get paid enough for the job she did. “I’m a little tired,” he told her frankly. “Our neighbors serenaded us last night. It was lovely, but not restful.”
“You probably wouldn’t have gotten much sleep anyway,” she told him with a shrug. “There aren’t enough bunks in there for everyone.”
“No, there are not.”
She folded her hands on his file. “Do you know why you’ve been brought back to see me today?”
“No, ma’am.” Jordan shook his head. “I just know it’s a little bit outside the standard procedure.”
“Well, you’re all being fined and released. So after you’re done with me, you’ll be meeting up with your parents and processed out of here. But you no doubt recall the exam you received during processing in.”
Jordan did remember the exam he’d been given. It had been cursory at best, a CYA procedure to make sure any injuries were documented upon arrival. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, we do screen for certain conditions, so we’re prepared in case of a detox or contagious disease event. But we also do a pregnancy test as part of that testing panel, just in case. And you, Mr. Davenport, tested positive. Did you know you were pregnant?”
Jordan laughed. He couldn’t help it. “No. No, that’s ridiculous. My boyfriend is pregnant. For me to be pregnant at the same time would be silly.”
The nurse raised one eyebrow. “Silly? Well, maybe. It’s certainly unusual.
“We don’t know a lot about pregnancy in males, because it is rare, and for a long time it was considered shameful. But what we do know is that it’s pretty unusual for two men who are also carriers to be together long enough for their eggs to release at the same time.
“Nevertheless, you are certainly pregnant; congratulations. State regulations prohibit the shackling of pregnant persons, so I’m going to have to trust you to go with these gentlemen. Do you have any questions for me?”
Jordan’s head was spinning. He had a thousand questions, and none of them were appropriate for a nurse whose job mostly involved violence of one kind or another. “Thanks, but I think I’ve got it from here.”
Somehow, he didn’t think the nurse would be up for deep inquiries about how to break the news to a boyfriend who’d already come close to a panic attack about how to pay for one baby.
The two guards escorted Jordan to the processing area, where he changed into his civilian clothes, got his wa
llet back, and headed back out to the waiting arms of his parents. George and Cindy gave him perfunctory hugs and then walked out of the prison, George railing about the carceral state the entire time.
“Well, son, I’m sure you’re hungry. Why don’t we take you for breakfast somewhere local?” Cindy smiled over at Jordan as George continued to rant.
Jordan wasn’t about to say no. They headed to a diner between the jail and South Boston, George changed his rant to gentrification, and Cindy chimed in with occasional “mm-hms” and sips of coffee. Once their food was delivered, George reined in his discussion and looked over at Jordan.
“Son, I’m proud of you. You took a stand for the rainforest and for the planet. You’ve done something amazing, and you deserve a pat on the back.”
Jordan wondered if his father would be contributing to paying off the fine, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t want to get into a fight, and he didn’t have the energy to discuss it right now. He didn’t even have the energy to point out that the protest had been about immigration, not the rainforest.
“Thanks, Dad.” He smiled, accepted the praise for what it was, and took a bite of his French toast. It tasted even more delicious in his exhaustion.
“So, later on this week, we’re leading an action against that wretched bank that’s in so deep with the bribery and the pipelines and all of that.” George’s dark eyes burned into Jordan’s. “It’s going to be big.
“We’re going to chain ourselves to the doors of the bank until they agree to our demands. It’s going to be a big group of us, coordinated all over the city. Your mother and I will be part of the cadre at the main offices downtown, of course. We want you to be part of the operation at the data center in Quincy.”
Jordan’s jaw dropped. He pushed it shut with his hand. Jordan’s first thought was hell no. He hated Charles River Bank with a passion, but chaining themselves to the doors of the bank where Alex worked seemed ridiculous.
“I can’t do that, Dad.” He looked down and wrapped his hand around his coffee cup. “I’m sorry.”
