“I’m not taking the suppressants for long,” Felix says, but he can’t help remembering Kade’s nose on his neck, and how he’d only pulled away ten minutes later. How would he react to this smell? He’d said Felix smelled sweet, but he hadn’t realized why, had he? “Just until I’m out of Meadowfall.”
“It’s still too long,” Taylor says. “I regret giving you the scent suppressants. You need to stop hiding.”
“I’m not dealing with it,” Felix says, and his brother shakes his head.
“Come on,” Taylor says, rolling off the mattress, loose-limbed and agile. “Let’s get some breakfast outside. I want something tasty.”
“I still have leftover Italian soup,” Felix says. “Kade came over and helped cook it.”
His brother studies him for a bit, pursing his lips. “You were fucking in the middle of making soup, weren’t you?”
“No. We fucked after.” Felix pouts. “I know about hygiene, okay?”
Taylor snorts. He extends a hand to Felix, though, pulling him out of bed. “Fine. But I want to treat you to breakfast. Eggs Benedict, and maybe some pancakes. And some coffee.”
“You have expensive tastes,” Felix says, but he’s smiling, padding out of the room with his brother.
“We don’t live forever. Eat well,” Taylor says, winking. “But don’t pop the suppressants today, okay? I want to smell you.”
Felix frowns, pausing halfway to the bathroom. “I can’t. I’m hiding.”
“No one’s going to look at you,” Taylor says. “Just act normal.”
“But what if we bump into Kade? That’s the whole point to the suppressants.”
“I’ll look out for him. You’ll be fine.” Taylor squeezes his palm. His hand is small and warm, traced with scars, unlike Kade’s.
Felix finds himself missing his bondmate, suddenly. He trudges to the bathroom, thinking maybe Kade will visit, figure he’s out, and return home instead. They made no plans to meet today.
“Fine, I guess. And only because I want to see you happy.” Felix will be fine smelling like himself, right? A few hours out with Taylor, and he’ll be home. “I won’t take them.”
A Belgian waffle, an eggs Benedict, and a small stack of pancakes later, Felix steps into the department store with Taylor, the tension from his shoulders gone. “That was delicious,” he says, clinging to his brother’s arm. “I’m so happy we went out.”
“I know. You haven’t stopped grinning since we left the diner.” Taylor leads them past the aisles of wicker baskets, stationery and gleaming kitchen appliances. “You’re getting bigger. Do you want any clothes for later on?”
Felix winces, looking down at his belly. It doesn’t look like much from afar, but he’s wearing a thin flower-print shirt, and if anyone looks closely, they’ll see the faint bulge of his abdomen.
In another four months, he’ll be swollen with child, and Kade won’t be around to hold his hand. His throat grows tight. “I’m not... I don’t know. I have clothes right now.”
Taylor frowns, peering at him. “What about baby clothes? Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
Felix shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“You’ve been to the doctor at least, right?” Taylor asks, turning them down aisles and tall metal shelves. Felix winces. “Felix! You should be visiting every month, so you know you’re both healthy!”
“That’s what the internet says,” Felix mutters, looking at the shiny laminate of the floor. His borrowed cash has run dry, spent on food and bills, and a secret stash for moving. “I know.”
“If cash is the issue, I’ll just—”
“No.” He can’t keep depending on others to help him. “I’ll find the time and money to go myself. Soon.”
“If you say so,” Taylor says, narrowing his eyes. “If I visit the next time and you haven’t been...”
“I know. Stop worrying,” Felix says, grimacing. “I worry enough for both of us.”
Taylor sighs. He turns them around another corner, and Felix freezes at the piles of pastel clothes, tiny ones slightly larger than his hands. The baby clothes section stretches on for yards and yards, and this early in the day, few shoppers wander around the store.
He gulps, reaching out to touch soft cotton: little striped socks, egg-yellow onesies, shirts with animal prints on them. The clothes he’d wanted to look at when he was last here with Kade, shopping for lemonade stand items.
“We could get some that aren’t gender-specific,” Taylor says. “My gift as an uncle.”
“Thanks, I suppose. I think it’s finally sinking in. I’m going to be a dad.” Felix trudges after him, staring at the unending piles of clothes. He sets a hand on the bulge of his stomach, thinking about the tiny life inside him, and how it’ll grow into a walking, talking child. How had one night changed so much?
“There are parenting courses around. Sign up for one, you might learn something good.” Taylor holds up a pale purple shirt, smiling. “Is this cute enough?”
On the front of the shirt, a bear sits with a pot, one paw coated with honey, a delighted grin on its face. Felix smiles. You would look adorable wearing that. “It’s cute.”
“What about these? I can’t believe they’re so tiny,” Taylor says, picking up a pair of striped pink mittens, his eyes warm.
It’s easy to soak up Taylor’s excitement, when he sets the mittens against Felix’s belly, his eyes wide. “I can’t imagine you carrying such a big child... or will it grow to fit these mittens after it’s born?”
“I don’t know,” Felix says, stretching the cuffs open on a pastel blue pair of mittens, the material flannel-soft against his fingers. “What do they need mittens for?”
“I think that’s where research comes in,” Taylor says, nudging him. “In case they accidentally scratch themselves? Seems like a good possibility.”
“I guess I haven’t thought about nails, either.” It seems like a huge task suddenly, raising a child himself, seeing to all its needs while he tries to work and earn a living for them both.
“What about this? I’d love to see a baby boy in a sundress,” Taylor says, lifting
