“But I could lose it tomorrow,” Dale said, his voice tapering into a whine. His lip trembled, and when he looked up at Greg, his eyes were wide and scared, vulnerable. “I-I can’t lose the child. It’s yours. I don’t—don’t want—”
“Shh,” Greg said, pulling Dale tight against his chest. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“I don’t even know if it’ll turn out fine. I can’t control it.” Dale’s voice broke, and he shivered in Greg’s arms, tears rolling down his cheeks. “You gave me the child and I—I—I can’t lose it, Greg. I d-don’t know if I can h-have another one.”
Dale sobbed, his hands fisting in Greg’s shirt, his entire body wracked with shudders. Greg’s eyes burned.
It wasn’t fair. Dale had wanted a child for decades. And now that he was pregnant, the risks of losing the child were so high. The mere thought of a miscarriage filled Greg with horror.
For a month now, he’d been coming to terms with the child. Of him and Dale getting married, caring for a baby together. They’d raise their baby, bring him or her to the park. Dale would teach their baby about bugs and plants, and together, they could all play ball when they were older.
To be faced with the possibility of losing this child... Greg’s chest ached like someone had gouged a hole in it. He hadn’t known he’d wanted the baby this much. Hadn’t known he was looking forward to a family with Dale.
We could adopt sounded consoling enough, except it would imply losing this baby. Greg’s stomach shriveled.
“We won’t lose the baby,” he said, his own voice tight. “We’ll go to the doctor. See what they say. I’ll watch out for you, okay? We’re gonna be fine.”
Dale trembled against him, his body thin and fragile, and Greg wanted to hide his omega at home, protect him from everything he could. He stroked Dale’s back, aching at the tears that soaked through his shirt. He wanted to solve this, but he didn’t know what options he had.
“C’mon, let’s get you home first,” Greg murmured, stroking Dale’s back. “Get you a hot shower. It won’t be so bad once you’re comfy in bed.”
Dale huddled against him. “You’ll leave, won’t you? I-If there’s no baby.”
Really? Greg’s chest squeezed. “That’s what you think? That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”
Dale nodded, his hair mussing against Greg’s midriff. He couldn’t look at Greg, and in that moment, Greg understood how humiliated Dale felt, back when he’d been with Charles and that bastard’s parents. What else did they say to you? How dare they hurt you like that?
“I’m not Charles,” Greg muttered, holding him tight. “I’m not going to leave because of a baby. I want this child, but if anything happens, I’m not going to abandon you, okay? I’d still marry you.”
Dale whimpered. He pressed himself closer to Greg, his thin arms slipping around Greg’s waist, his shoulders shaking as he cried.
Greg held Dale snug against himself, stroking down Dale’s shoulder, his arm, his flank. “I’m not leaving,” Greg said, rubbing down his back. “I want the baby too. I want it just as much as I want you.”
He lost track of how much time passed, instead rubbing Dale’s neck, massaging his scalp, careful not to displace Dale from his lap. And as Dale’s sobs quieted, Greg brushed his hair away from his face, gathering Dale up into his arms.
The fabric of Greg’s shirt was soaked through with tears and snot, and Greg didn’t care. It would be worse with a baby, anyway.
Dale looked up at him, his face blotchy, his nose red. Greg felt just as helpless as he did, uneasy and upset, his heart sore. He didn’t want to think about losing their baby. He hadn’t felt this raw since Tony died, and it scared him, a little. Scared him that he was vulnerable again. That he could get hurt again.
He hadn’t expected that since the fire, and maybe... he was in a little too deep.
But Dale seemed more fragile than Greg was right now. Greg took his glasses from the side table, unfolded them, and slid them onto Dale’s nose. “Better?”
“I can see you now,” Dale said thickly, breaking into a wan smile. “Before, you were just a blob of color.”
Who even told their lover that? Dale was different. Funny.
“Gods, I love you,” Greg murmured. Dale blinked at him. Greg cupped his cheeks, wiping his tears off. “I’m not leaving you, Dale Kinney, whatever happens with the baby. I promise.”
Dale stared at him, his mouth falling open, tears welling in his eyes again.
Greg winced. “C’mon, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I...” Dale gulped, his cheeks darkening. “Oh gods, I think I love you.”
Greg’s pulse missed a beat. “Really?”
Dale lowered his gaze. “I think so, yes.”
Greg’s heart swelled by three sizes. He hadn’t expected Dale to. Not when Dale had been skittish about love, had been worried about getting too close.
Greg pressed their foreheads together, staring through Dale’s glasses into his eyes. They’d been living together a month, and Greg had learned so much about this omega—the way Dale wrinkled his nose at pickles, the way he loved crosswords, the way he wanted to snuggle under the sheets all day.
If there were something in his future that could be guaranteed, Greg would want it to be Dale. He wanted Dale by his side for all the years to come.
With Dale’s face cradled in his hands, Greg kissed him on the lips, on the nose, on the cheeks. He kissed Dale’s forehead, his chin, and when he returned to Dale’s mouth, Dale whimpered and pulled him close, opening for him, his lips so familiar that Greg could recognize him with his own nose stopped and his eyes blindfolded.
“Wanna marry you,” Greg murmured against Dale’s lips, kissing him fervently. “Make you mine.”
Dale moaned, kissing him back, his lips sliding silky against Greg’s. His musk coiled through the air between them. “Greg, please—”
Greg kissed his words away, scooping Dale onto
