Page 26

CAMbrY

N iro put down his phone and turned to us.

“Doctor Emery confirmed it. Angell, you’re actually two months along. We’re having a baby.”

Angell’s cheeks pinked up and he hugged himself, turning his body back and forth. His pregnancy high infiltrated every part of our bond. I hugged him. When I let go, Niro bent and hugged him, bringing him up and into his arms.

Angell loved being held that way. In some ways, he was still a baby himself.

Over the next months, Angell started to show outward signs of being pregnant.

By Christmas, he was showing. He had finally stopped throwing up in the mornings and continued to have a lot of energy.

He wanted to order all the Christmas decorations he saw and put them up.

Niro pretty much gave us free reign and unlimited credit cards, so we ended up getting lots of garlands along with outdoor light displays including a snowman, a sleigh and several reindeer.

Niro put his foot down regarding Angell or me using a ladder to get outside lights up high. But we managed the porch quite nicely. We bought fun Christmas pillows and put them in the bedroom. We bought little snow globes and mini-trees for the living room and bedroom.

We also wanted real pine trees. Two of them. One for the bedroom, one for the living room. Niro thought they were messy. So we bribed him with a dual blow job. When we finished, he was completely satisfied that we were right and took us shopping that afternoon to a Christmas tree lot.

We then went to a big store where we bought tree lights and ornaments. Bags and bags of them.

Angell loved to lie on the couch, his sweater pushed up, his hand running circles around his belly, and stare at all the Christmas things.

“I did that,” he would sign to me.

“Hey, I helped.”

He nodded. Then he signed. “Hey, when the baby gets here, what will he call all of us. We can’t all be Daddy. That would get confusing.”

“Maybe Papa?”

“Okay, but what else?”

I sat beside him and ran my hand over his stomach the way he liked. The skin was stretched smooth and warm. The little lifeform within him had an energy I could already sense. “Maybe Dad and Daddy and Papa? Father sounds too formal.”

“Which one would you choose?” he asked.

“Dad, maybe. I don’t know.”

His hands moved furiously. “And I could be Daddy and Niro could be Papa.”

Just then, Niro walked in. “I hate Papa. I’ll be Parent.”

“He’s not going to call you Parent,” I said.

Angell hissed in laughter. He signed, “How about Old Man?”

“For who?” Niro asked.

“Not me,” I said.

“Okay,” Niro sat by Angell’s feet and started rubbing them. “How about Dada.”

“For you?” Angell asked.

“Why not?”

I tried them out on my tongue. “Dad. Daddy. Dada. I kind of like it.”

Next, we started talking about naming the baby but that got out of control quite quickly and Niro threatened to tell Santa to cancel our presents. “We’re not naming him Gaylord or Champ and that’s final.”

We always teased him with those names as first on our lists because we knew he hated them. We hated them, too, but it was fun to pretend.

Angell got bigger fast in the final trimester. He needed all new clothes. When he wanted to go out in the snow, Niro bought him bigger sweaters and coats.

He got restless a lot and Niro and I would take him for drives in the countryside which seemed to settle him down.

His stomach was arousing to me. I loved how big it had gotten. I couldn’t believe this was the same Angell who had such a lithe and narrow body. He’d filled out everywhere, even in his hips.

Niro loved his big stomach, too. We both spent a lot of time rubbing cream into his skin to keep the stretch marks at bay.

When we made love, I would frot him on his side while Niro gently fucked him.

He signed, “It’s all right, Cambry. I know my big tummy turns you on.”

He always thumbs-upped Niro when Niro pulled out to come on his stomach. Then we’d rub that into him, always a good salve for stretched parts.

Angell was happy being pregnant most of the time. He told me, “It’s like having dopamine shooting through you all the time. It is tiring, too, but even in my sleep I feel like I’m smiling.”

That last week before he gave birth, I watched Angell closely and rarely left his side. I was still afraid he was too small to give birth naturally. I tried to hide my worry, but he knew. He kept reassuring me. “I got this. One day, you’ll get to have this experience, too.”

We’d discussed having kids. Plural. The three of us were in agreement that we wanted at least one more.

But I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be me that got pregnant next time.

I was still on birth control. Whereas Angell had stopped taking his pills without telling a soul the moment we’d moved into Niro’s—our—house.

It had been a huge secret he had managed to keep.

Neither Niro nor I were angry about it. We were both ecstatic at the news.

Angell had won both our hearts over and over. What Angell wanted, we wanted.

Angell had talked about wanting a kid one time to me when we were still in school. He knew he never would—he would have to meet an Alpha for that—but he had repetitive dreams about giving birth. He had held his dream baby in his arms many times.

Soon, that mere dream would become a reality.

Angell and I were outside in the front yard, sipping cool drinks on lounge chairs, enjoying the spring sunshine when his contractions began. Niro was still at work.

He clutched his stomach and grimaced.

When it was over, I sat by his side, rubbing his baby bump as he told me, “Don’t panic. It’s only the first one. We have time.”

“Okay, but I’m still calling Niro.”

“He felt it through the bond. He’s already leaving work.”

As soon as Angell communicated that to me, my phone sang. I picked it up. “On my way home. How is he?”

“Fine. We’re out front relaxing in the sun.”

“Good. I’ll be about fifteen minutes.”

Angell turned to me. “What if it’s a false alarm?”

“What do you think?”

He shook his head. “The baby’s been restless all day. And I couldn’t eat my breakfast.”

Angell didn’t want to go inside yet. He wanted to lie on the lounge as long as he could. Even if he seemed able to relax, I couldn’t. I sat on my knees in the grass at his side holding his hand, resting my head against his hip.

When Niro’s car drove up he didn’t bother putting it in the garage. He jumped out and ran to us. In that same moment, Angell sat up and gripped his stomach. I watched closely this time. His shirt was rucked up and I saw the contraction ripple across his stomach.

“Okay, baby, time to go in and make you more comfortable.” Effortlessly, he lifted the ninth months pregnant Angell into his arms. Angell cuddled to him as if he belonged nowhere else than forever in our Alpha’s arms.

“I can still walk,” he signed. “But I love being carried.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I said back to him.

Niro called Doctor Emery who said things usually moved slowly for a first baby. Angell could stay home until the contractions were maybe ten minutes apart. Then we should think about driving to the hospital. Active labor started when they were five minutes apart.

I had a stopwatch on my phone and kept track. Angell was progressing faster than predicted.

I knew then I wasn’t going to get any sleep.

By ten o’clock that night, we were at ten minutes. Angell was in severe discomfort, demanding to be cuddled by Niro, barely letting him get up to pee.

Niro decided right then we would leave. We already had everything packed. He wrapped Angell in a big blanket and carried him to the car with me rolling the suitcase behind them.

Even in the dark night, the hospital was all bright and shiny. It didn’t look too busy, and Angell got a wheelchair and a room right away. We were told Emery was on his way.

Angell smiled the whole time when he wasn’t hissing through pain. Soon, they gave him some medication, and he relaxed even more.

I would have been wailing. I was sure of it. Plus, the room was too bright and everything smelled of antiseptic. I knew if this was ever me, I’d be begging for them to knock me out and wake me when it was all over.

“You’re so brave,” I said.

“I want to experience everything.”

He was fearless, our Angell.

When the doctor arrived, he checked him over. “He’s already dilating nicely. Things are moving quickly for this one.”

Niro took the doctor aside and I joined in. “Isn’t he still too small for this?”

Emery shook his head. “I’ve seen small Omegas do very well in natural childbirth. But we’re all set up if there are any complications.”

“Do you foresee any?” I asked breathlessly.

“Not at all. He’s progressing nicely.”

When I went back over to Angell, he pouted and signed, “I could hear every word.”

“Sorry. We’re just making sure you’re having the best care.”

For the next two hours, Angell weathered the contractions with endless energy. Niro and I weren’t the ones giving birth, yet we were more tired than he was.

When it was finally time for him to actively push, he was covered with a sheet and his gown spread in back. Niro sat on the bed with him, supporting his shoulders, letting Angell rest his head against his chest between pushes.

When the baby started to come out, I watched it all. Angell was severely stretched. My own sphincter twitched in empathy. This was the way it was. The way Omegas gave birth.

The baby’s head came first. Then the rest of the body just slid right out of him in a small shower of slick. The doctor and his assistant took the baby away for cleanup and a quick check.

I wasn’t breathing. I didn’t take another breath until I heard our son’s cry.

I stood with my fists clenched, motionless in the center of the room. I watched as they wrapped the baby in a clean blanket. Angell’s baby. Niro’s baby. Our baby.

The doctor turned to address all of us. “Clean bill of health.”

The assistant began cleaning up Angell, who still rested against Niro.

The doctor turned to me. His arms went out. He was handing the baby to me? I thought he would give him to Niro first.

I held out my shaking arms. The tiny bundle filled them up, weighing less than I’d expected. He was so small, his mouth open as he cried, his eyes filling with tears.

I held him to my chest. “Welcome, baby. You’re safe and warm. Welcome to the world. I love you.”

At my words, he stopped crying and stared at me with his facial muscles all scrunched up.

I walked to the bed and showed him to Niro. “He looks like you.”

Angell turned his head to look, still unable to move as they worked on his backside and afterbirth. He nodded agreement.

Our bond flashed between us.

He smells like an Alpha, Angell said.

He’s the most beautiful baby ever, I said.

I held the baby out so Niro could lean down and kiss his forehead. Well, what did we decide on?

Angell gave a quick quip, even as tired as he was. We ditched ABCDE. And Mordrid.

What a relief!

We decided on Arly.

That was the one I picked, Niro said.

We know.

As soon as we had that conversation, Arly began to cry.

“Maybe he disapproves?” I asked.

“It’s a done deal,” Niro said. “If he hates it, he can change it when he gets older.”

I cuddled Arly until he quieted.

Angell was now cuddled against Niro’s chest and falling asleep. I set the baby beside him, on Niro’s stomach, then got into the bed on the other side.

We were a family of four. My body quivered with excitement.

But soon, I became drowsy. My head fell onto Niro’s shoulder. Arly’s eyes were closed. Angell was softly snoring.

Together, in that too-bright hospital room, the four of us, had a well-deserved family nap.