“I don’t need too many,” Felix says. “The baby will outgrow them really fast.”
“So... three pieces?”
“I suppose. I read an article that said, ‘When in doubt, buy a larger size.’”
They turn into the baby clothes section the moment they reach it, instead of walking further to the summer dress rack. Felix touches the shirts. “We’re looking for the onesies right now, I think. I want something soft.”
Kade reaches out for a striped one-piece outfit, with snap-buttons on the sides and flowers printed on its feet. And it’s tiny, just slightly bigger than his hand. Can he even hold a baby that size without breaking it? Are all newborns that small?
Felix wanders over, raising his eyebrows. “Something wrong?”
“It’s damn tiny,” Kade says. He doesn’t remember his brothers being this small. But the bump at Felix’s belly is the size of the onesie in his hand. How much bigger will he be at nine months? Can his body hold a baby that size?
Pregnancies are riskier for male omegas, the doctor had said.
Kade swallows. Felix has been fine so far.
“It’ll grow bigger,” Felix says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “If you look at the labels, you’ll see them grouped according to their ages. Like these are for infants up to three months, and those are for children six to nine months old. See, isn’t this one adorable?”
Felix holds up a pastel purple onesie, with a picture of a whale printed on its front. His eyes glow with warmth, and he looks more at ease, better than he had when he first walked into the store. To the bump in his belly, he says, “I’m sure it’ll look great on you.”
Kade sucks in a deep breath, then blows it out. Maybe they can put that day behind them, when Kade had turned and left Felix at the store. The pregnancy doesn’t bother Kade now. He’s touched Felix’s baby bump. They’re shopping for baby clothes. If the baby is as tiny as these clothes are, then Kade will be extra careful when he holds it.
“It’s not bad,” Kade says, picking up an egg-yellow piece. He stretches its tiny sleeves between his fingers, feeling the give of soft cotton, imagining it around a delicate, tiny wrist. “Think this will look better?”
“I like that too.” Felix beams. He leans in, his shoulder pressing lightly against Kade’s arm. Then he glances down. “What do you think? Do you want the yellow one too?”
“Are you making up answers for it?” Kade asks, nudging him.
“I’m not.” Felix grins. “I’m just talking to it. I think it’ll get used to hearing my voice.”
And Kade can’t help admiring his omega. Despite how he hadn’t wanted his pregnancy, Felix isn’t running from it. He’s making decisions for the child, adapting to it in his life, and Kade is proud of him. For standing up, for being brave.
“You’ll make a great dad,” Kade says.
Felix blinks rapidly, a flush rising on his cheeks. And Kade leans in, pressing a kiss to his temple.
That night, as Kade’s pulling the sheets over himself, a soft knock comes at the door.
“Yeah?” Kade says, sitting up.
Felix peers into the dark room, meeting his gaze. “You’re not asleep yet?”
“Something wrong?” Kade pauses, scanning him.
Felix is in a loose shirt and shorts, and his eyes are hesitant. He pushes the door open wider, and the soft glow of the laptop screen lights the curve of his abdomen. He steps into the room. “I wondered if I could maybe... share your bed?”
Kade’s breath snags in his throat. “You have to ask?”
Felix takes a step back. “You don’t want me to?”
Kade sighs, scooting over to make space for Felix. It’s a queen bed—not big or anything, but they’ll both fit on it. He pats the dip in the mattress. “Come over. I’m not saying it twice.”
Felix smiles. He closes the door, padding over to the bed, and beneath the scent of his shampoo, Kade smells lavender. The mattress indents under Felix’s weight. Kade holds up the sheets for him, and he burrows under.
Kade tucks the sheet around his omega, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Better here?”
Felix’s eyes widen, and red sweeps through his cheeks. “Yeah. I mean, the couch isn’t bad, but... it’s better here.”
With you, Felix doesn’t say, but it hangs in the space between them.
You want this, Kade realizes. His pulse eases into a steady thrum, and he curves his arm around Felix, pulling him close. He’s not sure why Felix is willing to stay with him now, but he’s not questioning it, if it’ll keep his omega by his side.
“A goodnight hug?” Felix slips his arms around Kade’s back, careful. “I’ll try not to bother you while you sleep.”
Kade rolls his eyes. “What did I say about bothering?”
Felix laughs softly, looking away. “That I don’t bother you, I suppose.”
“Yeah, that. Remember it.” But Kade’s grinning when he settles into his side of the bed, pulling the sheets up over them.
For a while, they don’t speak. The laptop hums, and Kade looks up at the shadowy ceiling, listening to Felix breathe.
“Thanks for buying the clothes today,” Felix murmurs. He turns onto his side with a rustle of fabric, facing Kade. “You didn’t have to.”
Kade shrugs. “I’ll help.”
And Felix sighs, leaning in. He shifts closer, wrapping one arm around Kade’s waist. The bump of his abdomen presses against Kade’s forearm. “You deserve the very best person in the world,” Felix whispers, nuzzling into his shoulder.
Which is you, isn’t it? Kade wants to say, but he doesn’t want to disrupt this new peace between them. So he turns, pulling Felix closer to himself. It feels as though he needs to say something, though. After five minutes, Kade asks, “What about you?”
Felix breathes gently against him, his chest rising and falling.
“Felix?”
But his omega doesn’t answer, and a heartbeat later, Kade realizes he’s already asleep.
