“I can still do things, you know,” Dale said, suppressing his smile.
“Your water broke!”
“It’s not the end of the world.” Dale laughed, and Greg helped him into the passenger seat, making sure the seat belt didn’t press on his belly. It was huge now, larger than a basketball. Greg hovered for a moment, smoothing his palm over Dale’s abdomen, caressing their child. Their baby kicked against his hand, and Dale beamed. “He likes you!”
“He should like me,” Greg said. “I’m his dad.”
Dale met his eyes with a soft smile, setting his hands on top of Greg’s. “You know, this is amazing. All of this. You and the baby.”
“Let’s get to the hospital first, and then we’ll talk about amazing.” The child wasn’t born yet, and Greg wasn’t going to trust the percentages, not until he had their baby in his arms.
“Fine. Kiss me,” Dale said, tipping his face up.
Greg couldn’t refuse that. He leaned in, brushing their lips together. Dale purred, his mouth soft and familiar against Greg’s, his scent a mix of hibiscus and honey. Together, Dale and the baby were Greg’s most precious people, and he couldn’t believe he had them so close, that they would get to hold their son soon.
“We’re gonna be dads,” Greg said, grinning.
Over the past month, they’d done minor changes to the apartment. Dale had wanted to clean everything in preparation for the baby, turn the study into a nursery, add some new decorations to the house before they had their hands full. Greg had wanted to take up a part-time job now that he’d started school again, but Dale disagreed.
I’ve saved up enough for us, Dale had said. I’d rather you spend your time with me and the baby. That’s more important.
So Greg had stayed home, helping Dale prepare between his homework. These days, if he had questions about his assignments, he asked Dale instead—the new chemistry professor was nice, but Greg trusted Dale, and some of his favorite moments were snuggling on the couch with his omega, talking about semiconductor synthesis, or the various methods of biosensor production.
When Greg graduated from his chemistry major, he would find a full-time job. For now, he would continue his studies, and help Dale with the baby.
“I feel as though I’m already a dad,” Dale said, cupping Greg’s cheeks, holding him close. “Phil’s talking to us every time he kicks. I think he can’t wait to be out, too.”
Greg held Dale’s belly, waiting until the baby moved beneath his palm. It was their child in there, and by this time tomorrow, Phil would be in their arms.
“I’m gonna have to start driving,” Greg said, dropping a kiss on Dale’s belly. “This is a no-parking zone.”
Dale laughed, and Greg carefully shut the passenger door, before sliding into the driver’s seat. The next stop was home, then the hospital.
Three hours later, Dale had been admitted into the labor ward. His contractions were still minor; the midwife came by to check every half hour, and Greg fought the urge to pace.
“Sit down,” Dale said. “Fold your crane.”
“I can’t just sit!” Greg leaned back into his seat, staring at the thick stack of colored paper they’d brought along for the wait. Their research had said the labor could last twenty-four hours. Greg was certain waiting that long would suck the life out of him. “I’m used to split-second decisions, you know. Snatch the ball, get away, dunk it into the hoop. Not sit still for twenty more hours!”
Dale laughed, making a crease on a sheet with gray grid lines. “I suppose you could chat up every other omega here, if that’ll make you feel better.”
Greg raised his eyebrows. This was different from before. “You’d be okay with that? Me talking to other omegas?”
“You do that in school all the time, don’t you?”
Greg studied him. Months ago, Dale would have told him to talk to other omegas, on the off-chance that Greg would find someone he liked better. These days, Dale was more confident in himself. He held his belly, smiled and laughed with Greg, and the days he was convinced Greg would leave were far outnumbered by those where he grinned and told Greg to stay.
“I talk to people in school for projects,” Greg said. “It’s not like I’d decide I’ll like someone else better. I’ve already made my choice.”
Dale blushed, looking down at his hands. “Who would’ve thought?”
“Well, the basketball team did kind of speculate a little. They asked yesterday if they’ll be invited to our wedding. I told them I’d ask you first.”
Dale opened his mouth. Since the accident last month, news had spread. Greg had brushed off the stares; the attention was like what he’d received when he’d been named MVP—neither event was any of the public’s concern. Except he had several friends on the basketball team, and he wasn’t sure he wanted Dale to be worried by their presence.
“I don’t know. Do you want them around?” Dale asked, his fingers pausing on the paper crane.
Greg shrugged. “It’s our wedding. You get a say, too. I just don’t want you to be uneasy around them.”
“Maybe,” Dale said, chewing on his lip. “I’m still not used to the attention. You know.”
“Yeah. I’ll tell them you’re still deciding, then.” Greg reached over, slipping his fingers around Dale’s hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
Dale leaned toward him, and Greg left his seat, settling on the bed beside him.
“How are you feeling?” Greg asked.
“Nervous. Excited. I think he’s ready to be born, too.” Dale smiled, rubbing his hand over his belly. “He’ll be a beautiful child.”
“He’ll be beautiful like you,” Greg murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Dale nudged him. “You’re such a smooth talker.”
“I’m not.” Greg kissed him again. “Are you sure you really want to call him Phil? I only suggested that because Phil O’Riley was
