Work Text:
Squall: n - a sudden violent gust of wind or a localized storm, especially one bringing rain, snow, or sleet.
v - (of a baby or small child) cry noisily and continuously.
Dream sits on the sofa in the upstairs landing, staring at George’s door and chewing on a hangnail. If someone were to ask, he might say he’s mildly concerned, but his face betrays the truth: he’s approaching panic. It’s been three days. Three days since George woke up in Dream’s bed—in their bed—and disappeared into his old bedroom. He’s spent the time since curled in his personal nest, back to the door, barely responding to anything.
When Dream tried to check on him the first time, George let out some sort of strange, almost feral growl when he entered the room. The second time, Dream brought him a sandwich and water, and George had mumbled his thanks. When Dream tried to sit next to him, tried to touch him, the growl returned.
When Dream returned the third time, to replace the water bottle and leave a package of George’s favorite chips, George demanded Dream also leave the hoodie he’d been wearing behind. Dream thought this was a good sign, but when he reached out to touch George, he was again greeted with a growl so ferocious it approached a snarl.
So now, three days later, Dream’s sitting in the landing across from George’s door, staring. George’s scent is wrong. It’s not that he doesn’t smell like Dream, or like the perfect combination of their scents that appeared once they mated. It’s more that he has a new scent, one that Dream doesn’t share, a slight variation of his original vanilla that Dream loves so much. There’s a depth to his scent now, an extra layer. Dream’s never smelled anything like it.
“Bro,” Sapnap says, stepping out of his office to find Dream in the same spot he’s been sitting for most of the past day. “This is getting ridiculous.”
Dream glances over, dark circles ringing his eyes.
“Something’s wrong with him.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Sapnap says. “So go in there and find out what.”
“He doesn’t want me to,” Dream whines. He clasps his hands together, wringing them like a worried mother. His leg won’t stop vibrating, an outlet for his nervous energy.
“Yeah, but you’re his alpha. Go in there and make him tell you what’s wrong.”
“What? Nick, no. You know we’re not like that. I… I want to respect what he wants.”
“It’s clearly driving you crazy,” Sapnap says. “If you won’t go talk to him, I will.”
Sapnap starts to walk over to George’s door, but Dream jumps up to block his path.
“No,” Dream says with more certainty. “Leave him alone.”
“Relax, I’m just going to check on him. I’m not going to bother him.”
Sapnap tries to push past Dream, but Dream squares up with him, fully blocking his path and letting out a low growl. Sapnap takes a step back and stares at Dream in shock. Dream matches his expression. For all that Dream can be possessive and protective of his mate, he’s never once stood between Sapnap and George’s friendship. That relationship is as special and sacred as Dream and George’s mating bond, just in a different way.
“I…” Dream begins. “I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry.”
Sapnap peers up at Dream for a few moments before shaking his head and backing away.
“Look, you’re being weird as hell. Both of you. And you’re stinking the house up with your sad alpha scent. More than usual, I mean. It’s gross. You two need to figure your shit out before I suffocate. I can’t do this again.”
It’s those words, that Sapnap can’t do this again, that convince Dream it’s time to do something. He and George don’t hide anything from each other now. No thoughts or feelings unturned in their quest to actually have a functioning relationship. George acting like this is completely abnormal.
Dream turns and stares at George’s door and nods. “You’re right.”
Sapnap claps him on the shoulder. “Go in there and get him, big guy.”
Dream grimaces and glances back at Sapnap. “Never call me that again.”
Sapnap holds up his hands and backs away. “Got it.”
~
Before entering George’s room, Dream does a few things. He changes into a fresh shirt, carrying the hoodie he’d been wearing with him. He also grabs a fresh bottle of water and cuts up a bowl of apple slices.
Once he’s gathered everything, he takes a deep breath and knocks on George’s door. There’s no answer, but there hasn’t been in three days. After waiting a moment, Dream gently pushes the door open and closes it behind him.
He’s always a little hesitant entering George’s room. For so long it was George’s private space, the only place he could retreat to where he could be free of Dream’s presence, back when that presence brought more pain than happiness.
“Georgie?” he whispers, crossing the room. He places the water and apples on the bedside table. “I brought you a new hoodie.”
George turns his head to look at Dream and takes a deep breath. He sits up and pulls the oversized hoodie he’s been wearing off and reaches out for the hoodie in Dream’s arms. He slips it on and then lies back down, snuggling deeper into his nest while delicately sniffing the collar of the hoodie.
Dream kneels down on the floor next to the bed and puts a hand on George’s shoulder. A soft rumble starts in George’s throat, a warning. Dream pulls his hand back, but leaves it sitting on the bed, inches from George’s back.
“George, you have to talk to me. I’m worried about you,” he says. George doesn’t respond. Dream frowns.
“I think maybe you need to see a doctor,” Dream suggests. “I think there’s something wrong with you, and I don’t know what.”
“I don’t need a doctor,” George says, voice low. It’s more or less the first complete sentence he’s said to Dream in three days that isn’t a request to bring something or to leave. Dream smiles a little.
“But what’s wrong, baby?” Dream asks.
George turns to look at him again, his face crinkling in response to Dream’s words.
“Baby is what betas say.”
Dream doesn’t have any clue what that’s supposed to mean or how to respond to it. It’s one of those perfectly nonsensical George statements that don’t make any sense in the moment.
“George,” he tries again. “You need to talk to me. You promised you would always talk to me if something was wrong.”
There’s a voice in the back of his mind, some ancient, primal instinct, that says he is the alpha and George is his omega, and he should be able to compel George to answer him with a single word. He’s never bought into that side of himself, though, and he knows exactly what George thinks about it, so he ignores the urge. He hates that it’s even there.
“I’m not leaving you until you tell me what’s going on,” Dream tries again.
“Not ready,” George says. His voice is soft now, and there’s a little tremor to it. That alarms Dream more than anything else.
“If you can’t tell me right now, can I at least stay?” he asks quietly. “I know you come in here when you need to be alone, but it’s been three days. I’m scared.”
George is quiet for a long time, and Dream thinks he’s not going to respond at all. He’s almost ready to give up, to give him more time, when George speaks so softly it’s like he’s barely said anything at all.
“You can stay,” George whispers.
It’s a relief. It’s a tiny ray of hope, and it lets Dream breathe again. He decides to push his luck a little.
“Can I come in the nest with you, or do you want me to stay on the floor?”
George wraps his arms tightly around himself, and Dream has to stop himself from reaching out to soothe him. That’s not what George wants right now, even if it’s what he needs.
“You… you can come in.”
“Thank you,” Dream says.
It’s a rare and precious thing to be invited into George’s personal nest. Sapnap has been a few times. Dream never has. It’s George’s space, a place he can retreat to when he needs quiet and solitude. Usually if he wants Dream with him, he just makes a nest in their shared bed.
The problem with sharing George’s personal nest, Dream realizes rather quickly, is that it is not built for two. He tries to curl in, but the only way is by wrapping himself completely around George. Even then, his legs hang over the edge, and he knows George is going to be annoyed with him for messing it up.
“Is this okay?” he asks after he settles behind George. He keeps his hands to himself at first, not wanting to spook him.
George nods, but doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t really relax either. It bothers Dream. Even if George is upset about something, even if he’s not feeling well, having his alpha’s scent so close should soothe him.
“I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder now, okay?” Dream whispers. George freezes but doesn’t protest. A second later, Dream gingerly sets his hand on George’s shoulder. It’s the most George has allowed Dream to touch him in three days. Dream wants to cry.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” Dream says, gently rubbing George’s shoulder. “But are you hurt in any way? Do I need to be worried?”
A long silence follows before George eventually shakes his head. Dream breathes a sigh of relief. They lie together like that for a while, and bit by bit, Dream feels George relaxing. His presence must be doing something after all.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty? I brought you some apple slices.”
“Later,” George says. “Just want to rest.”
“That’s fine,” Dream says. He takes a chance and dips his head forward, pressing a kiss to the back of George’s head. George doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push him away either.
Feeling a little emboldened, Dream tries to wrap his arm around George’s body. George stiffens and growls again, immediately hunching forward protectively, hands covering his stomach.
Dream freezes, but his brain goes into overdrive. It’s like a hundred little clues that were hidden in shadows are suddenly thrust into the spotlight. It’s so obvious when he sees them all laid out like that. His heart leaps into his throat, and then it takes everything he has to remain calm.
George’s behavior makes sense now in a way it didn’t before. Nurture. Protect. It’s natural that in the early days some of those signals would get messed up, and George would see everything as a threat.
Dream’s not a threat, though, and he needs to make sure George knows that. He takes a slow, calm breath, and then reaches his hand forward, this time bringing it lower to press against George’s belly.
George growls again and grabs Dream’s hand in both of his to keep it from making contact.
“George,” Dream says, voice firm and strong, a tone that George can’t ignore.“I’m here to keep you safe. I’m going to protect you.”
He pauses, kisses the mating mark buried deep in George’s scent gland, before adding, “I’ll protect both of you. You… and our pup.”
Somehow those were the words George needed to hear, and he goes boneless against Dream, whimpering softly. Dream curls in close and plants little kisses all over the side of his face, until he tastes the tears leaking out of George’s eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Dream says. “Both of you.”
He finally, finally gets his hand on George’s stomach, pushing the hoodie up and out of the way so he can brush his fingertips over the soft skin there. George tenses for just a second but then relaxes back against Dream, his inner omega responding to the presence of his alpha at last.
“Mine,” Dream whispers, holding both of them in his arms.
A pup. He knew it was a possibility, but he hadn’t expected it so soon. It’s… it’s good. It’s really good. He closes his eyes and curls his body around them both, breathing George’s altered scent deeply. When he closes his eyes, he sees George holding a tiny bundle, brand new to the world, in his arms. He sees a dark-haired child running across the lawn, sees a backpack and a school bus, sees a shape snuggled in bed with a blue and green stuffed dinosaur.
“How long have you known?” Dream asks after a while.
“I don’t,” George says. “I mean, not actually.” He sounds almost normal, all the tension he’s been carrying the past few days gone from his voice.
Dream cocks his head to one side. “Not actually?”
George inhales a soft little breath, resting his hand on top of the one Dream has pressed against his abdomen. “I mean, it’s just instincts. I know he’s there.” Dream understands that, because he can tell too. He doesn’t know how exactly, but there are a hundred little signs that all add up to it.
“He?” Dream can’t tell that much yet, not by the scent alone. He wonders if George smells something different because the baby is a part of him.
George shrugs. “Just a guess. Could be she. I don’t know.”
“Tell me what happened?” Dream asks. “Why… why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I’m sorry,” George says quickly, as if he’s just realized something. He turns his head first and then his whole body towards Dream. “I wasn’t trying to hide it. I wasn’t keeping secrets.”
Dream pulls George against him, letting him hide his face against Dream’s chest.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “I know you weren’t. I just wanted to know how you ended up like this.”
“Dunno,” George says, voice muffled in Dream’s t-shirt. “When I woke up a couple of days ago, I just felt… weird. Like, on edge, or something. Like I wasn’t safe. It was itching under my skin. That’s the only way to describe it. I came in here because it felt safer than anywhere else. And it just sort of stayed like that. I could relax in here a little because I was alone. But I couldn’t handle the idea of anyone coming in or, like, touching me.”
“Even me?” Dream asks. It’s not an accusation, just curious.
“I’m sorry,” George whispers. Dream squeezes him, reassuring. “It was stupid, but nothing felt safe. I’ve never felt like that before, and I didn’t know why. But I missed you, and not having you around made it worse somehow.”
“That’s why you wanted my hoodie?”
“Yeah,” George says in a soft breath. “Smelling you helped. But every time you tried to touch me, something in me freaked out. I don’t know why. I just felt like I needed to keep safe, but I didn’t know what I was trying to keep safe.”
“When did you realize?”
“Sometime last night,” George answers. He slips a hand between their bodies and rubs his fingers over his stomach. “I knew I didn’t smell right, and that kind of freaked me out too.”
“Same.”
“Shut up, this is my story.”
“Apologies,” Dream laughs. “Continue.”
“I didn’t smell right, but it took a while to figure it out. The longer I was in here by myself, the more I could smell it, though. And every time I really noticed, really focused in on the scent, it was like my inner omega would start screaming at me. Then, I don’t know. I felt this ache in my hip when I was turning over, and then I touched my stomach, and I just knew. Since then, it’s been so obvious.”
“I can smell them now too,” Dream says. “I was only getting little snatches of your scent, but I knew it was different. But now, in here, it’s so obvious.”
“Poor Sapnap,” George murmurs. “He’s so confused.”
Dream shakes his head. “He seemed fine when I talked to him a little while ago. Maybe a little annoyed with me, but that part’s just normal.”
George presses his lips into a little grin and shakes his head. “He sat outside my door for like three hours last night trying to get me to tell him what was wrong.”
“Seriously?”
George lets out a long sigh. “He’s obsessed with me, Dream. I don’t know what to tell you. So codependent.”
“Yeah, and you’d be totally fine without him,” Dream snarks back. He pauses, thinking back to earlier. “I may have growled at him,” he admits. “I guess I should apologize.”
“I growled at him too,” George says with a shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Did you tell him?” Dream asks. “Last night, I mean. What was going on.”
“No, of course not,” George says. He leans back a bit and stares up at Dream. “I wouldn’t tell him before I told you. He’d run off to tell you right away, just to see how annoyed it made you that he knew first.”
Dream has to admit that sounds exactly like Sapnap.
“Besides,” George continues. “I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. I still felt weird. Like. Not safe.”
“Do you feel safe now?” Dream asks, peering down at George with concern. He needs to make sure George is safe, but even more than that, he needs to make sure George feels safe.
“Safer,” George admits. “It’s still a little weird. I know we’re safe with you, but it’s just a little instinct nibbling on my brain cells, telling me to keep him away from everything.”
“You’re safe now, George,” Dream whispers. He kisses George’s forehead and strokes the side of his cheek. “I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Either of you.”
~
It’s another full day before George feels settled enough to let Sapnap come in, and then it’s Dream who plays the role of overprotective. He stands in the doorway, sharp-eyed and a little surly, while Sapnap crouches next to George’s nest and places tentative fingertips against George’s belly.
“That’s so cool, dude,” Sapnap says. “It’s weird that there’s this whole little person in there.”
“He’s very small right now,” George says seriously.
“But he’ll get bigger,” Sapnap says. “Little bro’s gonna be a whole person soon. Wait. How soon?”
George shrugs lightly. “Like seven months? I don’t know. We haven’t gone to the doctor yet.”
He shudders after saying the words, and both Dream and Sapnap freeze, understanding. George would prefer to never set foot in the omega center again, but it’s not an option now.
“Seven months,” Sapnap repeats, sounding a little in awe. He’s got younger siblings. Dream knows he’s lived through this before. George is the only one without the experience.
“I’m going to be an uncle,” he says.
Dream grins. He may be supremely uncomfortable with how close Sapnap is to George and the baby right now, but that thought still makes him happy. “Uncle Nick.”
“No,” George says. “Uncle Stinky Pants.”
Dream tries not to show just how funny he thinks that is. Sapnap rolls his eyes, but he looks too happy to be offended.
Sapnap sits on the floor, resting his back against George’s nightstand. He may have been allowed in George’s nest once or twice before, but it’s strictly off limits now that George is pregnant. Only Dream is allowed that close.
“Wait,” he says after a moment’s thought. The look on his face transforms from happy to nervous. “I mean… Do I need to move out? Like, if you’re gonna have a kid and be a family and all, I probably shouldn’t be here, right?”
Dream goes still at the suggestion. He’s about to deny it, to promise Sapnap there’s a place for him here forever, when George speaks instead.
“If you try to leave, I will find you and peel the skin off your body strip by strip,” George says calmly, as if he’s commenting on the weather.
Sapnap’s eyes go wide. He looks at George and then up at Dream. “Fuck, dude, he’s scary. Is he going to be like this the whole time?”
Even Dream is a little surprised by George’s words, but he also finds them kind of funny.
“I guess we’ll find out!” he says cheerfully.
Sapnap continues creeping away, eventually getting to his feet as he nears the door.
“Well, I’ll leave you guys alone for now,” he says.
George smiles angelically. “Baby loves you, Uncle Stinky Pants.”
Sapnap shakes his head and leaves, muttering something about a fucking psycho as he does.
Once he’s gone, Dream looks at George with raised eyebrows.
“Was that really necessary?”
George tries to keep a serious face, but there’s an obvious smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “He threatened to leave,” he says. “He needed to know that’s not an option.”
“Our pup has made you kind of scary,” Dream says, but he’s smiling.
“You’re the one who did this to me,” George points out.
“Damn right I did,” Dream says, chest puffing with pride.
~
Later that night, Dream climbs into George’s tiny nest and kisses him with urgency, full of need. George welcomes him, and before long Dream’s pushing inside, feeling George tighten around him. He holds himself still, gripping George with strong hands, and kisses him over and over, deep and full of feeling, until the need becomes more than either of them can bear.
“You’re pregnant,” he whispers as he begins rocking in and out, letting the heat slowly build up between their bodies. He can’t stop smiling.
“You’re so stupid,” George tells him, a blissful smile on his face. His hands grip Dream’s biceps and his legs lock around Dream’s hips, urging him deeper with each thrust.
“You love stupid,” Dream murmurs as he presses a line of kisses down George’s neck.
“I do,” George agrees without a hint of guile. He’s flushed and panting, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as pleasure slowly leaks into every corner of his body.
Dream moves a hand down to press against George’s abdomen. “I put a pup in there,” he tells George, the thought thrilling him from his head down to the tips of his toes.
“Took you long enough,” George says with a laugh. He always laughs when Dream’s inside of him. It took Dream a while to realize it’s because he’s so happy that he can’t hold it in.
“Had to get it right,” Dream grunts, moving faster now. He captures George’s stupid, beautiful smile with his mouth, kissing him greedily, biting down on his lower lip. “Can’t rush these things.”
“Think you got it right,” George gasps.
The words send a thrill through Dream. The sounds of George’s pleasure always send a thrill through him, but they do even more now. He put a tiny baby inside of George. He did that.
“You’re so full of yourself,” George says, gazing up at Dream with something like love in his eyes.
“No, you’re full of me,” Dream says with a smug little grin. He thrusts just a tiny bit harder to make his point. Not too much harder. He knows logically that the baby is safe, but he’s still being so, so gentle. George doesn’t always like gentle, but he’s going to have to deal with it for now.
“More,” George moans a few minutes later. “Need more.”
Dream presses a kiss to George’s jaw, and then the side of his neck, and then his scent gland, feeling George tighten around him in response.
“Someone feeling a little greedy?” he asks, but there’s no bite in it. Just love, just good humor. He shifts back and lifts George’s hips a little, moving in and out of him with even strokes. He takes George’s dick in one hand and begins pumping it, watching George’s face as he does. There’s nothing but pleasure there. Pleasure and happiness.
It doesn’t take long after that for George’s body to stiffen, for his fingers to dig into the meat of Dream’s arms, for him to squeeze so tight around Dream that Dream thinks he might break his dick off. And then they’re both coming, Dream slowly rocking his hips as they ride their way through their orgasms.
“Mine,” Dream groans as he finishes, leaning over to kiss George deeply.
“Yours,” George confirms. And then, “I think maybe you just got me pregnant again.”
Dream chuckles, still giddy and dazed, and collapses next to George, pulling him into his arms, pressing kisses all over his sweaty forehead. He drops his head down on one of the pillows and holds George close. They lie tangled together like that as they both recover.
“It’s time to get out of this nest, Georgie,” Dream whispers after a while, after their bodies are calm and cool and the sweat has dried tacky on their skin.
“No,” George whines immediately, but there’s not much fight in it. Dream thinks George knows he needs to get up too, but the instinct to fight back is still there.
“I want to take you down to our room for a bath, okay?” he whispers as he strokes the side of George’s face. “There’s no one here but me and Sapnap. All the doors are locked. I’ll keep you both so safe.”
George searches Dream’s eyes for a moment and nods, swallowing hard.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I think… I think I’m okay now.”
Dream smiles and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Could we… could we move back to our bed tonight?” he asks.
George looks less comfortable with that idea.
“I can’t stay in here with you for seven more months, baby,” Dream says. “There’s barely any room for me now, and when you’re all big and round there won’t be room for me at all.”
He pauses at the thought of George big and round, full up with his pup, and files that image away from later. He could get drunk on that image.
George considers and, after a long while, relents. “Okay, but I need to make a nest there,” he tells Dream seriously.
“Of course,” Dream agrees.
“This isn’t like heat, Dream. You don’t get to take it apart after a week, even if all the blankets and pillows start to annoy you.”
“I know,” Dream says earnestly, doing his best to keep from laughing.
“It’s for our pup, Dream. We have to keep him safe. He needs a nest.”
“Georgie,” Dream says, voice so serious. “I know. I know. Don’t worry. We can have a nest the whole time.”
~
For the sake of the pup, George makes a reluctant, begrudging peace with the omega center. Dream joins him for his appointment, though. He hasn’t forgiven the omega center for how they treated George before, and he’s going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
The way the doctors speak to George drives him crazy. Within the first few minutes of George’s first visit, it becomes obvious that every question will be directed towards Dream, every decision left in his hands. It grates.
He signs paperwork giving George full power and authority to make any and all medical decisions about the baby, but even then George is treated like an object. A vessel. Dream wants to tear the building to the ground. He plays nice, but only because he wants his baby to be born somewhere safe.
After their first visit, the second they’re sitting in the car, George makes a decision. “I want to have him at home. In my nest. Not there.”
“George,” Dream says slowly, cautiously, knowing this is going to be a fight and not really ready for it. Not on a day when he’s just heard his baby’s heartbeat for the first time.
“No,” George snaps before Dream can continue. “Don’t George me. Not on this. I’ll do everything else. I’ll go to that stupid building for every appointment and let them talk about me like I’m not even there. I’ll take every vitamin you want me to. I’ll give up half of my favorite foods. But I’m not spending another night in that place. I’m not letting one of those doctors be the first person that touches my pup. Do you understand?”
George is breathless and teary-eyed by the time he’s finished his rant, and Dream’s a little shocked. He nods and slowly reaches a hand out to place on George’s shoulder.
“Okay, baby,” he says quietly. “I understand. We… we can figure something else out, okay?”
He knows there are other options, but he doesn’t know what they are. He knows George can give birth safely without the omega center, he just doesn’t know how yet. He can figure it out. If it matters this much, he’ll figure it out.
“Promise me,” George gasps.
“I promise,” Dream says. He hopes he won’t regret it later.
George lunges across the center console and wraps his arms around Dream’s neck, squeezing him tightly. His breathing is still too fast and too erratic for Dream’s comfort, but he’s not at all about to suggest they go back inside to get it checked out. He doesn’t think additional stress would help things. Instead, he wraps his arms around George and holds him.
“Just breathe, baby,” he says, taking deep, slow breaths himself. “Just calm down. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
Dream keeps that promise. Once they’re home and George is safely napping in their nest, he sits at his computer and starts researching. What he finds is, simply put, horrifying.
At first he starts looking for alternatives to omega centers for childbirth, but he quickly gets sidetracked when he falls down a rabbit hole of mortality rates for pregnant omegas. The statistics in Florida and the surrounding states are terrible. For an advanced country with top-shelf healthcare, way too many omegas die having pups.
Then he looks at the reasons why. Medical officials at the omega centers say it's a normal rate, that omegas are sensitive and delicate and their systems can’t always handle such a difficult process. As if omegas hadn’t been giving birth for centuries before omega centers were even invented.
The stories told by other omegas say something entirely different. Lack of agency. Forced medication. Decisions made without the consent of the omega. Lack of care after the baby is born. It almost sounds like giving birth at the omega center is more dangerous than doing it somewhere else.
The final straw is when Dream starts digging into those mortality rates in other places. Despite being the same country, the rates for New York, California, and Washington are much better. They’re on par with most of Europe.
Dream remembers what George told him, about how the omega centers in California and other places treat omegas differently than the ones in Florida. That they’re safe.
Why isn’t every omega center in the country equally as safe? It infuriates him. He spends the next hour composing a letter to his congressmen, and one to the board of directors at the omega center, and one to the mayor of Orlando. Then, with that out of the way, he calls his mother. She was a nurse for years. She’ll know what to do.
“Hi, Clay,” she says when she answers.
“Can George give birth at home safely?” he asks without even a hello. It’s only after he’s asked it that he realizes they haven’t told anyone but Sapnap. He probably should have checked with George before saying anything.
George won’t be mad. He loves Dream’s mom as much as his own.
“Give birth?” she asks cautiously.
Dream sighs. “Okay, my bad. We haven’t started telling anyone yet, but—”
“George is pregnant?” she gasps out, saving Dream the trouble.
He laughs. “Well, at least now I can claim I didn’t tell you. Yeah.”
There’s squealing. There’s happy tears. There’s babbling about seeing her own baby grow up. It’s a lot.
“Mom, Mom,” he finally interrupts when he’s blushing too hard to take anymore. “Celebrate later. Focus now.”
“Can I tell your father?” she asks, ignoring him.
“Yeah, I guess that’s okay, but you need to answer my question first.”
“What question?”
“Can George give birth safely at home?”
She goes quiet. “Technically my medical training says to encourage you not to do that, but yes. He can. He’s young and healthy and, as long as he has a normal pregnancy, it’s perfectly fine. People do it all the time without problem.”
“Good,” Dream says, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I can put you in touch with a midwife,” she continues. “I would offer, but it’s best if family doesn’t get involved. I can be there for you when it happens, but I’d rather someone else… make decisions.”
“Okay, good,” Dream repeats. “We can. We can work out the details later. It’s early days. I just promised George I would find out. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” she giggles. “I’m going to be a Grammy.”
“You’re going to be a Grammy,” Dream agrees.
After the call ends, he returns to their bedroom and curls up with George in the nest. George was right—the long-term presence of a nest is absolutely grating on him, and he’d love nothing more than to strip it all away and have a normal bed for a few weeks.
It’s worth it, though, because it means he gets this. He gets George, soft and sweet, barriers down, hand protectively over his stomach as he sleeps. It means he gets a tiny baby, a little pup that’s a mixture of him and George, a little person to watch grow up in the world.
He can’t help but stare at George in silence, marveling at all of it, thinking about how different his life was two years ago. How close he came to missing all of this.
“Stop staring at me,” George mumbles. Dream grins and leans over, kissing his nose before wrapping his arms around him.
“Can’t help it,” he whispers. “You’re too cute.”
“Gross.”
George shifts until he’s settled against Dream, relaxing into his warmth and his scent.
“I’ve taken care of it,” Dream whispers to him. “You can have the baby here. It’ll be okay.”
George is too tired to be excited, but a soft smile spreads across his face, and that’s good enough.
“Good,” he says. “I was going to whether you said I could or not.”
“Of course,” Dream says wryly. He wouldn’t have expected anything different.
~
By the time George has a visible bump, he’s relaxed a little. Instead of worrying over the day to day safety of the pup growing inside of him, he starts focusing more on the safety of the world around him.
“You are not going to a protest,” Dream tells him in no uncertain terms when George mentions the Omega Rights Association group is planning a trip to Tallahassee to protest outside the state legislature.
“You’re not the boss of me,” George shoots back.
“Technically, technically,” Dream starts, trying to make a joke, but the death glare George sends him is enough to shut him up for once.
“You told me once we were mated I could go to all the protests I want,” George adds.
“And you have,” Dream says. “I’ve never tried to stop you. I even bailed you out that time you threw red paint on that doctor, remember?”
George smiles. “That was a good day. You should have seen his face.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” Dream says. “But that doesn’t apply now. Things are different.”
“You said any protest I wanted to,” George repeats with a scowl.
“I didn’t know you were planning on getting pregnant a year later!” Dream says, mildly exasperated.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” George says, almost wounded, hand moving to cup the tiny bump. “It just happened. A beautiful and natural thing. I can’t believe you hate our pup.”
Dream chuckles. He’s not rising to that bait. “You went off birth control, George. It’s not like it was an accident.”
George huffs. “I thought it would take longer. It’s your fault.”
George’s arguments are falling apart, and Dream can see him softening a little. He creeps across the sofa, closer to where George is huddled, looking grumpy.
“Well, I’m sorry,” he says, opening his arms.
“Good,” George says, allowing Dream to cuddle in behind him. “You should be.”
“Sorry for fucking you so well,” Dream murmurs, placing a kiss against George’s neck. “Sorry for filling you up so many times. Sorry for knotting you over and over.” He punctuates each statement with more kisses.
“Stop,” George breathes, in a voice that says not to stop at all. Dream would like to continue what he’s doing. He slides his hands down to George’s hips, hoping to make clear just how much he wants to continue what he’s doing. Alas, the conversation has to be resolved before there’s any hope of more.
“You can’t go,” he says, voice gentle. “I’m sorry. I know how important this is to you, and I don’t want to keep you from it. But not while you’re carrying our pup. That’s too important.”
“What if he’s an omega?” George asks, taking one of Dream’s big hands in his own and pressing it against his stomach.
“What if he’s a she?” Dream points out with a little laugh. “There’s a lot we don’t know yet, baby.”
“No,” George says, starting to show signs of frustration. “I mean if he… or she… is an omega. Don’t you want a better world for them?”
Dream scoots back the tiniest bit and puts his hands on George’s shoulders, beginning to massage there. A stressed and sad George is never good.
“Of course I want that,” he says. “I want that even if they’re not an omega. But my more immediate concern is keeping both of you safe. Can you understand that?”
George frowns. “I am keeping him safe. That’s my job.”
“I know you do. You’re so good at it too.”
Dream gets a little overwhelmed when he thinks about how good George is at it. Seeing George carrying his pup over the past few weeks has completely changed the way he views him. Dream loves George, and he knows that George loves him back, but he’s never seen George love anything as much as this pup. There’s nothing in the world right now that George loves as much as he loves the little baby growing inside of him that’s half Dream.
He clears his throat and resumes massaging George’s shoulders and upper back. “I trust you to protect our pup, I do. But it’s my job to protect both of you. You’ve got to let me do that, even if it seems a little over the top and crazy sometimes.”
George relaxes, letting his head fall backwards so he can just about see Dream.
“More like overprotect us,” he says, but he smiles. “Okay, fine.”
Dream drops a kiss down on his forehead, and then his nose, and then his lips.
“We’re okay?” Dream asks cautiously. He thinks he’s made his point to George, but you never really know.
“We’re okay,” George confirms. After a pause, he adds, “I’ll just make Sapnap go in my place.”
~
For weeks, George swears over and over that he doesn’t want to find out the baby’s primary gender. Despite referring to the pup as he most of the time, he says it doesn’t matter at all. Then, they’re sitting in the doctor’s office at the omega center, staring at a blurry image that’s supposedly their baby, and all his protests disappear.
“Oh!” the ultrasound technician, a calm and efficient beta, says. She clearly sees something more in the image than either George or Dream do. “Were you wanting to learn the primary gender today? Baby’s being very cooperative.”
“No,” Dream says, repeating what George has consistently said over the past several months. “We’re waiting for birth.”
“Yes,” George says immediately after. He squeezes Dream’s hand and looks at him with wide eyes. “I changed my mind. I want to know.”
The technician looks back and forth between Dream and George before settling on Dream.
“Technically it’s your decision,” she says to him, but he can hear the reluctance in her voice. He wonders how much she approves of the policies at the omega center. Some betas don’t care much at all, but others care a lot.
“Do whatever he says,” Dream responds, gesturing at George. “He’s in charge.”
He doesn’t miss the tiny smile that briefly crosses the technician’s face. She looks at George.
“You’re sure? Can’t take it back once you know.”
“I’m sure,” George says. He squeezes Dream’s hand even harder, and Dream starts to worry his hand won’t survive this pregnancy. For an omega, George is surprisingly strong.
“Okay, then,” the technician says. She turns to the screen and freezes the sonogram. “Luckily, you’ve got a little show-off on your hands here.”
She begins pointing out features. Head, backbone, foot. Dream stares at the image on the screen for a long time as the shape of their baby finally becomes clear.
“And here,” she concludes, “is a tiny little penis.” She looks over at them. “Don’t worry—it’ll get bigger.”
“Boy?” Dream breathes out.
“Told you so,” George says, looking smug.
Dream smiles over at him indulgently. “I thought you said that was just a guess.”
“I must have known,” George says. “Omega intuition.”
“Sure, sure,” Dream says fondly, barely managing to keep his joy suppressed. “Omega intuition. That’s definitely a thing.”
“It is,” George says primly.
Dream meets the technician’s eyes, and she shakes her head a little. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling. Definitely not a thing.
She prints out the sonogram along with a few other images for them to keep. Then she returns to the exam. Dream only half listens as she inspects different anatomical features and makes notes on size and growth patterns. He keeps staring at the picture in his hand, smiling.
A boy. His boy. A son.
Later that night, he and George sit in their nest together, George laying back against Dream’s chest, staring at the picture. After the appointment, they’d shared the news with a select few people—mainly their families and Sapnap. Everyone had asked the same question.
What will you name him?
“What will we name him?” Dream asks George after a while. He’s holding the sonogram image in one hand and gently rubbing George’s belly with the other.
“Nothing stupid,” George says.
Dream chuckles. “Oh, damn, and all these years I’ve dreamed of giving my kid the stupidest name possible.”
“Makes sense.”
“Shut up,” Dream says. He moves his hand to George’s side to tickle, but pauses and thinks better of it. George’s bladder has been unreliable lately, and the last thing Dream wants is to spend the rest of the night washing all of George’s favorite blankets.
“It doesn’t feel real,” George says after a while. He’s still staring at the picture, and his hand has joined Dream’s on his belly. “That this is what’s inside of me.”
“Well, actually,” Dream says. “It’s just the image that forms from bouncing sound waves off the thing inside of you.”
George crinkles his nose. “Do you think he felt the sound waves? I never thought of that before. Can you even feel sound waves?”
“I think you’d hear them.”
“What about, like, a sonic boom? You hear that, but you feel it too.”
“I don’t think this was quite sonic boom levels of sound,” Dream says. “Stop avoiding the question. What do you want to name him?”
George groans. “Too hard. I’m pregnant, Dream. Delicate. I can’t do that kind of hard thinking right now.”
“So you’re saying I should name him?”
“Absolutely not,” George says. “You’d probably name him something boring, like Frank.”
“Hey, be nice to Frank,” Dream says. He rubs George’s belly. “Don’t worry, Frank, I won’t let your Mama talk about you like that.”
“He is not named Frank,” George says, elbowing Dream in the side.
“Rude.”
“Steve,” George says. “If you’re going to be stupid, we’ll just call him Steve.”
“Like in Minecraft?” Dream asks. George nods, and Dream rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Why not Herobrine?”
“Well now you’re just being ridiculous. Oh!”
“Oh?” Dream asks, not sure if it’s an oh he should be worried about, or if George just had a great idea.
He gets his question answered when George takes his hand and places it on the right side of his belly, near the bottom. He’s about to ask what’s happening, when he feels it. It’s small and light still, but it’s there. A little kick. Or punch. He doesn’t know which.
What he does know is that his son is in there, and he just reached out to say hello.
“Hey, baby,” Dream says quietly. He’s probably too far away to be heard, but he’s not worried about that just yet. “I guess you don’t like Herobrine? That’s okay. Your Mama and I are going to come up with a good name for you.”
“A sick one,” George interjects.
“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “A sick one. You’ll love it. You’ll have the best name in school.”
“Dream, he’s a baby. He doesn’t know what school is yet.”
Dream laughs at that. “He doesn’t know what English is yet either, but that’s not stopping us.”
“Kiss me.”
“What?” Dream asks, more amused by the sudden change in topic than anything else. He doesn’t wait for a response, but bends forward and kisses the top of George’s head.
“Not like that, idiot,” George sighs. He pushes himself up to sitting and turns around, kissing Dream’s lips. Dream smiles as he pulls back.
“Is that all you needed?” Dream asks.
“No,” George says. “Theo wants a pickle. Go get us one. A big one.”
Dream smiles, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.
“Theo?” he asks. It seems out of nowhere, but who knows how George’s brain works. He likes the way it sounds when he says it.
“I like it. And I reserve the right to change my mind,” George says primly. “Pickle. Now.”
“Okay, okay,” Dream says, climbing out of the nest. “An extra big one. For George and Theo.”
~
“Do you think I’m hot?” George asks one day as Dream walks out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. He’s standing in front of the full length mirror, staring at his reflection while his hand rubs over the bump that just keeps getting bigger. At six months, it’s not nearly as big as it will get, but it’s grown to a good size. George looks obviously pregnant now, the chance that someone might mistake his swelling belly for an oversized burrito long gone.
There have been other changes over the months too. George’s hips are wider, and his chest is swollen and tender. His face is a little bit rounder, and his cheeks are permanently rosy. Dream’s watched as he’s grown and changed over the past few months, fascinated by it all. He looks different, yes, but still beautiful. Maybe even more beautiful now, big and round with Dream’s pup inside of him.
“Yeah, of course,” Dream says. He walks over to his dresser and digs through the top drawer before pulling out a pair of clean boxers. He watches George out of the corner of his eye as he turns to the side, lifting his shirt up so the round expanse of his belly is visible. He runs a hand over it.
“Why?” Dream asks, turning to fully look at him.
George shakes his head, tracing fingertips over the taut skin. The red lines of stretch marks have started to appear along the bottom and sides, and his fingers linger there. Dream understands. When he looks at George, he sees a masterpiece. When George looks at himself, all he sees are the way he’s changed, and the ways his body doesn’t look like the one he had before. It must be hard.
He’s still staring at George quietly, about to pull the boxers on, when there’s a little twitch beneath the towel wrapped around his waist. Of course. He’s just an alpha, after all, and his gorgeous, funny, too good to be true omega is standing there in front of him with a big round belly filled up with his pup.
He can’t help but chuckle, and George looks over at him frowning.
“What?”
“You really think you aren’t hot?” Dream asks.
“Well, look at me,” George says, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Dream drops the boxers to the floor and walks over to George.
“I am looking,” Dream says, taking the opportunity to rake his eyes over George from top to bottom and back up again. He takes George’s hand and brings it underneath the towel so George can feel his growing erection. “I’m looking, and I like what I see.”
“Oh,” George says, eyes going wide, cheeks somehow even rosier. He glances down as if he’s embarrassed, but a moment later he looks up at Dream with a burning fire in his eyes. His hand squeezes around Dream’s dick. “Are you going to do anything about it?”
Dream smiles. “I guess I have to,” he says, leaning down to capture George’s lips with his own. George’s lips part, and Dream kisses him deeply, swiping his tongue inside to taste the sweetness of his mate.
“Well, if you have to,” George says when they part. He squeezes Dream’s dick one more time before removing his hand and tugging the towel off.
Dream stares down at George with hungry eyes as he pulls his shirt up and over his head. Then he drops down to his knees and places a kiss over George’s belly. He glances to the side to see their reflection in the mirror, and then he gets an idea. He hooks his fingers into George’s waistband, pushing his sweatpants to the floor.
“You’re so hot, George,” he murmurs, kissing his belly one last time before dropping lower. He glances up at George as he does and doesn’t miss the moment when realization hits him, his face flushing.
“Dream,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to—”
“Shh,” Dream says, running his hands up and down George’s thighs a few times. “I want to.”
It’s not common for an alpha to do this, but Dream can’t imagine not wanting George to experience the same pleasure he gives Dream. He knows he’s not as practiced or experienced with it as George, but the few times he’s tried in the past have gone well enough.
He dips his head forward and inhales George’s scent before bringing a hand to the base of his dick. He wets his lips with his tongue, already so turned on by this role reversal. He can hear George’s sharp intake of breath when he opens his mouth and brings George’s dick inside. It makes his own dick twitch, but he ignores his need for now.
George’s dick lays heavy on his tongue, and Dream can taste the salty tang of precome. It’s intoxicating, and he briefly wonders why he doesn’t do this more often. At least that’s a mistake he can fix. He grins as George’s fingers thread through his hair, listening to his heavy breathing as he finally starts moving, bobbing his head back and forth, tongue tracing over George’s dick as he moves.
“Fuck, Dream,” George hisses, legs trembling as Dream sucks him. Dream slides his hands around to George’s ass, squeezing the flesh there. He moans as he does, vibrations trembling along George’s dick.
Dream slips one hand between George’s cheeks and finds he’s soaked in slick. He presses one finger into his hole, and then a second, gliding them in and out with ease. The scent and sensation of the slick trigger some deep, primal instinct in the back of his mind, his dick throbbing with the need to be inside of him. He knows he’ll need to take George soon or his inner alpha will go crazy, but for now he enjoys listening to George’s noises as he sucks him.
“Need—need you,” George whimpers. “Please, Alpha, need you.” One of the hands in Dream’s hair slides down the side of his face to his shoulder, and then Dream feels George lightly pushing him back. He stops and stares up at George, eyes burning with want. George whimpers again when he sees Dream’s expression.
Dream slowly gets to his feet, tracing fingertips up George’s body and over his bump as he goes. When he’s standing, he tilts George’s head up to meet his gaze and kisses him deeply.
“Do you get it?” he asks when they break apart. “I want you just as much now as I ever have. Maybe more. You’re gorgeous.”
George nods slowly, but Dream can see there’s a part of him that still doesn’t believe it. He grabs George and quickly turns him around so his back is pressed against Dream’s front and they’re both facing the mirror.
“Do you feel how much I want you?” Dream asks, pressing his dick forward against George’s ass. George whimpers again and nods. Dream dips his head down and presses a soft kiss to George’s mating mark.
“I’m going to take you now,” he continues. “And you’re going to watch me. Watch us. See how much I want you. See how beautiful you are. Okay?”
The reflection of George’s eyes in the mirror locks with his, and George nods. He swallows. “Yes, Alpha,” he whispers softly.
Dream doesn’t need any more encouragement than that. He keeps one arm wrapped around George’s body, pressing into his belly, while the other he uses to position himself to push inside of George.
“Fuck, you always feel so good,” he hisses as he presses deeper and deeper, until his hips meet the curve of George’s ass. He gasps. “You’re so perfect for me.”
Dream keeps his eyes locked on George’s as he begins moving, slowly rocking in and out, holding him in place with a hand on his hip. George stares right back at him, letting out soft noises as Dream starts fucking him steadily.
“Remember when you used to beg me to fill you up, put a little pup inside of you?” Dream practically growls into George’s ear. He takes an earlobe between his teeth and bites gently, pulling a whine out of George. George nods, sliding a hand down over his belly to tangle with Dream’s.
“I did that,” Dream continues a little breathlessly. He doesn’t pause in his movements, still thrusting in and out of George as he talks. “I gave you a little pup, and look at you. So big and full up with my baby. So fucking hot. Do you understand how hot that is?”
“Stop, I can’t,” George whines, ducking his face and turning it to the side to press against Dream’s shoulder.
Dream wants to be careful not to push George too far, so he just smiles and presses a kiss to George’s neck.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs. He slows his thrusts down to a stop and stands there unmoving, still buried deep inside George. “Do you want to get on your hands and knees for me?”
George nods at that, and Dream slowly eases himself out of George before leading him over to the nest and helping him inside. When George is positioned on his hands and knees, Dream climbs in behind him and carefully slides his dick back inside. George moans, and Dream can tell just from the sound that this position is better for him, that George won’t last long like this.
He puts one hand on George’s hip to hold him steady as he fucks him. The other wraps around and grabs George’s dick, slowly beginning to pump him.
“Is that good, baby? Is that what you needed?” Dream asks, fucking into George faster now, losing a little bit of finesse as he pushes them both closer to their end.
“Yes,” George whines. “Yes, yes, yes.” Dream jerks him faster, and it’s not long before he feels George squeezing tightly around him as ropes of come shoot out of his dick. Dream gives one last deep thrust and buries himself inside of George before letting go. As he fills George up, he leans over him and presses kisses into his shoulders and upper back.
“You make me feel so good,” he whispers once the edges of his orgasm have receded and he can think clearly again.
George is trembling from the effort of holding himself up, so Dream eases himself out of him and helps him lie down on his side. He grabs some tissues and gently cleans George up before curling in behind him.
“Good?” he asks once he’s settled, George’s back pressed against his front.
“Mmhm,” George murmurs in affirmation, relaxing back against Dream. “Really good.”
“Did I answer your question?” Dream asks, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear.
There’s a long, quiet moment before George answers, the words taking time to filter into his brain. “What question?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused.
Dream chuckles. He guesses he got at least a little of the self-doubt off George’s mind if he can’t even remember that.
“Whether or not I think you’re hot. Did I answer it?”
George giggles a little deliriously. “Yeah, yeah, you answered it.”
“Good,” Dream says, closing his eyes and relaxing. “Feel free to ask any time you’re not sure.”
George is silent for a second and then whispers, “Thank you.”
~
As the metaphorical clock ticks closer to George’s due date, gifts start pouring in. Clothes and books and a handmade blanket from Dream’s grandmother. More clothes and supplies, along with a blue and green stuffed brontosaurus from George’s mum. An oversized and very comfy rocking chair for the nursery from Dream’s parents. An absolutely disgusting number of expensive pairs of tiny baby shoes from Uncle Stinky Pants.
Once the fans find out about the baby—something there was never any possibility of keeping a secret—the P.O. Box gets flooded with millions of little baby things. Between their friends, family, and fans, they have all the equipment and accessories and diapers and ridiculous Minions onesies two new parents could possibly need.
Even George, who loves getting gifts, is overwhelmed by it all. Looking at the piles and piles of boxes that have accumulated in their foyer, he shakes his head.
“I don’t know why people think he’ll need all of this stuff. He just needs me.”
“Well,” Dream points out. “You might need help sometimes.”
“That’s what you’re for,” George says. He shakes his head and pushes one of the boxes out of the way with his toe. He grabs the brontosaurus off the pile and disappears down the hall, quietly chattering at his bump, telling Theo all about his old friend Bronty as he goes. Dream gets the message and forces Sapnap to help him relocate all the baby things into the former guest room that’s been earmarked for a nursery. Something for another day.
One afternoon, Dream answers the door to a certified package for George. He signs for it, but waits for George to wake up from his nap before opening it. It’s a small, thick envelope with no return address, postmarked from L.A.
When George wakes, he knows immediately what it is.
“Hasan said he was sending something for Theo.”
“In an envelope?” Dream asks.
There’s a part of Dream that hates that Hasan Piker feels like he can send gifts to his baby, that he’s close enough with George for that to even occur to him. He knows George and Hasan are still friends, but knowing and being reminded are two different things. The months George and Hasan spent together were some of the worst months of Dream’s life. George claims Dream should thank Hasan, but Dream doesn’t care to know why.
George tears the envelope open and reads the card inside. He smiles and slips it into his pocket without showing Dream. Instead, he dumps the remaining content from the envelope into the palm of his hand, holding it out to Dream. A single solid gold coin rests on his palm. Dream picks it up and turns it over in his hand for a second before handing it back to George.
“He knows I’m rich, right?” he asks. He’s not sure if it’s worse that Hasan sent money instead of an item. Dream can take care of his family without help, thank you.
George grins and shakes his head. “Shut up. It’s a Turkish thing. They give gold to new babies.”
“What, to help them start their Scrooge McDuck hoard?”
George rolls his eyes. “You’re so jealous, it’s ridiculous.”
“I know,” Dream says. “And I am.” He wraps an arm around George’s expanding waist and pulls him close, nuzzling his scent gland.
“Can’t help it if the idea of someone else touching you drives me crazy. That’s something that won’t ever change.”
“You drive me crazy,” George scoffs.
It’s meant as an insult, but Dream takes George back to the nest and shows him all the ways it can be a compliment too.
~
Later, Dream sits on the floor of the future nursery, surrounded by screws and nuts and Allen wrenches, trying to piece together the jigsaw that will become their son’s crib. George sits happily in his new rocking chair, offering suggestions as he sips on a smoothie. He hasn’t offered to help, but Dream wouldn’t have let him anyway.
A few minutes later, Sapnap pokes his head in the room, just as Dream is trying to figure out how to hold two sides of the crib up while simultaneously screwing them together.
“You needed something?” Sapnap asks. Dream furrows his brow, confused. He didn’t call Sapnap.
“Help him,” George says from his chair. “He needs help.”
“George, I don’t—” Dream begins to protest.
“Sapnap, he’s so pathetic. He needs you.”
Dream sighs and reluctantly nods. “It would be nice to have some help. If you’re not busy.”
Sapnap shrugs. “I can hang for a while.”
He crosses the room and joins Dream on the floor, taking the screws out of his hand. With his help, putting the crib together isn’t nearly as bad as Dream thought it might be, and they finish quickly.
When they’re done, Sapnap pats the side of the crib like it’s a new car.
“There you go, George. All fresh and new and ready for Theo to sleep in.”
“Oh, he’s not sleeping in there,” George says, as if that’s a ridiculous idea. “He’ll sleep with me.”
Dream, who’s sweaty and tired after all the manual labor, gives George a wry look.
“He’ll need somewhere to sleep when he’s bigger,” he says.
It was the wrong thing to say. Within seconds, George’s smile has crumbled, and big tears are running down his cheeks.
“I don’t want him to get bigger,” George sobs. “He’s mine… He’s my little baby. He can’t.” He’s crying hard enough now that the words come out in little hiccups. Dream crawls across the room in record speed and pulls George out of the chair and down to the floor, cuddling the whole mass of him into his arms.
“He has to grow up, Georgie,” Dream whispers. “That’s the whole point.”
George cries harder at that. “He’s just a baby,” he sobs, taking heaving breaths between each word. “He’s going to leave me.”
Dream glances over at Sapnap, who’s frozen in horror. Is this normal? Sapnap mouths at Dream. Dream just shrugs. He’s fine.
“He’s not going to leave you, baby,” Dream says, petting George’s hair. “Where’d you get that idea?”
“I was my mum’s baby,” George whines, “and now she doesn’t ever see me. What if he moves far away and I never see him?”
Dream can’t help but chuckle at that. He presses a kiss to the top of George’s head and squeezes him tightly.
“That’s a long time off,” he whispers. “We’ll figure it out if we need to.”
Ever so slowly, Sapnap scoots across the floor, getting closer to where they’re sitting.
“George, think about how cool it’s going to be to watch little bro grow up. All the fun stuff little kids do? He’s gonna get to do all of that, and you’ll be the one teaching him and showing him things. You’re gonna have so much fun together. Babies aren’t any fun, but little kids are a fucking blast. And big kids.”
Dream meets Sapanp’s eyes and nods in thanks, but George just scowls.
“My baby is going to be fun,” he points out.
“‘Course he is,” Sapnap agrees, grinning. “He’s got me as an uncle. Gonna be the coolest fucking baby in the Mommy and Me group.”
George scoffs and rolls his eyes at that, but at least he’s not crying anymore. Dream squeezes his shoulder.
“He’s not going to grow up for a long time, George,” he says. “And you’ll get to do so many things together before then.” He glances at Sapnap. “We all will.”
“Can we take him to Gatorland?” George asks quietly, sniffling a little for dramatic effect.
Dream gazes over at George and smiles. He’d give him anything he asked for right now, so this is an easy one. “Yeah, we can take him to Gatorland.”
“Might want to wait til he’s a little bigger,” Sapnap says. “Otherwise the gators might think he’s dinner.”
George stares at him, shocked for just a second. Dream is about to say something when George picks up one of the baby board books from the pile and chucks it hard at Sapnap’s head. It hits his cheek with a loud noise, and Sapnap shouts in pain. Dream winces. He’s pretty sure Sapnap’s going to have a black eye later.
“My baby is not a gator snack,” George hisses.
Sapnap looks murderous for a split second before nodding a little sheepishly. “Yeah, I deserved that.”
~
Dream wakes early one morning to find George kneeling on the bed, rocking back and forth and making strange grunting noises. He’s hunched forward, one arm on the bed supporting his upper body and the other wrapped protectively around his belly. He exhales hard and winces as he keeps rocking forward and back.
“George?” Dream asks, temporary panic shoving the sleep out of his eyes almost immediately.
“I’m fine,” George says, shaking his head quickly. “Just more of those fake contractions. It feels like he’s trying to claw his way out.”
“Oh,” Dream says, relaxing a little. Just the fake ones.
He reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp and then looks at George. The expression on his face makes Dream think this contraction is worse than normal. He sits up and scoots closer to George, placing a hand on his lower back and sitting with him as it passes.
“How long have they been going on?” he asks, knowing these have been coming in groups lately.
“Not long,” George says, shaking his head, trying to catch his breath. “At least, I don’t think so. I woke up having one like twenty minutes ago.”
“You should have woke me,” Dream murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “I want to help you.”
“It’s fine,” George says, slumping against Dream.
Dream automatically begins rubbing the spot on George’s lower back next to his left hip, which has been getting particularly sore and tight lately. George rests his head on Dream’s shoulder, eyes closing. Dream sits there with him for a few minutes, letting George relax as he works out the knots in his back.
He thinks George has fallen back asleep when he suddenly lets out a gasp and sits upright again, hand gripping his knees as he struggles to breathe. Dream puts arms around George to support him while he trembles through the contraction, breath coming in little pants.
When it’s finally passed, he pulls back and looks at George’s face, pale from pain.
“Are you sure these are the fake ones?” Dream asks. “They seem worse than the ones before.”
George meets his eyes, and Dream sees his own question reflected back at him. “I don’t know,” George whispers. “I don’t know the difference.”
Dream nods. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to stay calm for George’s sake. He guides George to lie down on his side. “We’ll just wait a little while longer and if they’re still happening, we can call the midwife.”
George nods, and Dream moves away to climb out of the nest. George whines, and Dream reaches over to rub his shoulder.
“I’m just going to get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back.” George reluctantly nods, and Dream gets up. As he does, his eyes fall on the second nest in the room, the one set up in the corner of the room, waiting for the day the pup is finally born.
They’d gone back and forth on it for a few weeks, George’s desire to feel safe and comfortable in his own nest warring with his general fastidiousness, which kept him from wanting all of the mess of childbirth to happen in their bed. Ultimately they’d decided on a large inflatable pool, which has been set up on one side of their room since that day. Over the past week, George has quite literally been nesting in the pool, trying to arrange something acceptable for the big event.
Now, Dream almost feels like it’s taunting him. He’s not sure why, but his gut tells him that George isn’t having fake contractions anymore. He thinks they’ll be using the birthing nest by the end of the day.
He hurries into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for George. There’s a tiny flutter of panic now that the thought has crossed his mind. He stands in the middle of the kitchen, eyes darting all over the room, wondering if there’s anything else George might want or need.
He must take longer than he means to, because a few minutes later he hears George call his name. He rushes back into the bedroom to find George panting through another contraction. Dream puts the water on the nightstand and climbs back into the nest with George, holding him as he works through it.
When the contraction’s passed, he helps George sit up and drink some water.
“I’m calling the midwife, okay?” he tells George while he drinks. George meets his eyes and, after a beat, he nods in agreement.
Dream doesn’t think he’ll answer so early in the morning, but apparently he’s already up and about. He describes what’s happening, and then has George tell him what he’s feeling. Midway through the conversation, they have to stop as George has another contraction.
With that, he confirms what Dream had already expected. George is in labor. Dream grabs a notepad and pen from the nightstand drawer and writes down his instructions, asking questions as he does. Before they’ve finished the call, George has another contraction. They’re still far apart—Dream thinks about 6 minutes—but they’re definitely regular. He ends the call and turns back to George as the contraction passes.
“Okay, the midwife said to monitor your contractions and take it easy for now. I’m supposed to text him updates when anything changes, or if your contractions get to the point where they’re three minutes apart. Otherwise, he says to do whatever feels right to you, and to make sure you get some food and water in you now. I’ll give my mom a call in a little bit so she can head over and help out.”
George nods and grimaces. Dream lies down and curls up behind him, rubbing a hand over his belly.
“I’m scared,” George says softly after a quiet minute. It’s a big admission. Up until now, even as they prepared for birth and the new baby, George has insisted he wasn’t worried at all, that it would be no big deal.
“It’ll be okay,” Dream says. “I’ll be here with you, and we’re all going to do everything we can to make sure it goes smoothly. And if we absolutely have to, we can always pivot and go to the omega center.”
George shakes his head. “I’m not afraid of that. Yeah, it’s gonna hurt, whatever. It’ll suck, but then Theo will be here.”
Dream’s forehead crinkles in confusion. “What are you afraid of then, baby?”
George sighs. “What if… what if I’m not good at this? At being a mum? What if I don’t know what I’m doing, or I do a bad job? What if I don’t have the right instincts because I never learned how to listen to them before? What if I mess everything up?”
Of all the things Dream’s heard over the past few months, this fear has never been one of them. It’s also not one he was expecting, but when he looks at George, he sees the truth of it in his eyes. He wraps his arms around him and pulls him close.
“No one loves as well as you,” Dream whispers in his ear. George starts to shake his head, and Dream stops him.
“No, listen to me,” he says intensely. “I’ve spent years watching how you take care of the people around you. Maybe you don’t tell people how you feel with words, but you show it so much in everything you do.” He pauses and swallows hard, not really wanting to bring the past up on such a special day. “Even when I hurt you as much as I could, you still took care of me. You still loved me. How can you say you might do a bad job?”
“Babies need words too,” George says, shrugging.
“You have those,” Dream says. “I promise you do. Not everybody earns them, and that’s okay. But you have them for me, and I know you’ll have them for Theo.”
George makes a choked sound at the name. “Theo. He’s almost here, Dream.”
Tears prick in the corners of Dream’s eyes at that thought. He’s almost here. He rubs a hand over George’s belly, just barely feeling Theo move underneath the skin.
“Just a few more hours,” he agrees. “Then you’ll get to hold him, and you’ll know. You’ll see. You’re the best person in the world to be his Mama.”
“Get off me,” George suddenly says, pushing Dream away. For a second, Dream is hurt and confused, not sure what he said to warrant that kind of reaction. Then pain crosses George’s face, and Dream understands.
He scoots back to give George the space he wants, but keeps his hand on his belly, feeling muscles trembling and flexing as the cramp passes through them. George reaches down and grabs Dream’s hand in both of his own, clinging to it as he breathes through the pain.
Dream watches him through furrowed eyebrows, desperate to do something—anything—to make it stop. The realization that he can’t is one of the hardest he’s ever had. His job today is to sit here useless while George does the hardest work of his life.
“Okay,” George gasps as he struggles to catch his breath once the contraction has passed. “I take it back. Maybe I’m a little scared of the pain too.”
“Me too,” Dream admits.
It’s going to be a long day.
~
The night his son is born changes Dream’s life forever. He always thought the defining moment of his life would be that night in the movie room, when George finally decided he was willing to take another chance on Dream. Or even the day when they mated, though that somehow seems less important than the initial yes, despite the implications.
He was wrong, though. This is it.
It had been a long, terrifying day. Dream had regretted his decision to let George give birth at home a thousand times between the morning and the late night. He’d almost dragged George to the car to take him to the omega center at least twice. His mother was there, along with the midwife, and they promised him everything that was happening was normal and there was nothing to worry about. He didn’t believe them, and it didn’t help.
It was hard. So hard. Dream wasn’t even doing the work, but seeing George in so much pain, so overwhelmed and at times terrified, had nearly been his undoing. He thought he could handle anything, but he couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t look at George in agony, begging Dream to make it stop, and be okay. He’d never felt more frustrated, more scared, more helpless, and more useless.
It was also just really, really gross.
So much of it had been really good, though. It had been scary, but strangely perfect. George was the first person to touch their son. Through a haze of pain and exhaustion, he had reached down and helped their pup through his first moments in the world, easing his body out, clearing his nose and mouth, and helping him take his first breath.
The midwife and his mother had both told Dream this would happen, that George’s natural instincts would take over, and he’d know what to do and how to do it. That no one was better prepared for this than the omega parent, even if they felt clueless in the hours before birth.
Dream didn’t really believe it until he saw it. It wasn’t that he doubted George—George was capable of so much, and had so much secret strength that Dream couldn’t even comprehend—but he didn’t understand how instincts alone could do that. He shouldn’t have doubted, though. George was a miracle.
George is a miracle. Their son is a miracle. They never could have had an experience like this at the omega center.
After it’s over, after George and the baby are clean, after they’ve transferred from the makeshift birthing nest to the big, comfortable one in their bed, after the midwife and Dream’s mom have quietly slipped away to leave them alone, Dream finally breathes. He crawls into the nest next to George and the baby and puts his arms around both of them.
It’s still there, that deep, overpowering instinct to keep them safe. Maybe it’s louder now. He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through each day with both halves of his heart walking free in the world.
Well. At least the baby won’t be walking any time soon. He’s so small. So much smaller than Dream expected, given how big George had been towards the end.
“He looks like a Theo,” George says after a while. He still hasn’t let Dream or anyone else take the baby from him, but he’s slumped in Dream’s arms, boneless and exhausted, and that’s enough for now. Dream keeps one arm wrapped tightly around George and rests the other on the baby.
“He’s so small,” he says.
George giggles a little deliriously. “Didn’t feel like that when I was pulling him out of me.”
Dream glances at George with wide eyes. “You’re amazing, did you know that? Absolutely spectacular.”
George nods. “That’s me. G-O-A-T.”
Dream strokes the baby’s cheek with one finger. “He’s amazing too. You did that, George. You made him and grew him and brought him into the world.”
“You helped,” George points out. “I mean, not much. But you were there too.”
“Not much,” Dream repeats with a look of disbelief. “Not much?” He kisses the side of George’s head. “You forgot how hard I worked to put him in you in the first place.”
“Stop,” George whines, flushing. “This is a wholesome family moment.”
“I’ll wholesome your family,” Dream says. George laughs at the joke, shoulders shaking from it. Theo lets out a little squawk of disapproval from being jostled.
“Wow, he hates your jokes, Dream,” George says, deadpan. “How are you going to survive it?”
“He’ll come around,” Dream says confidently. “He’s just had a long day.” He presses a kiss to the side of George’s head. “You too. You did a really good job.”
“It was hard,” George admits pathetically. “It hurt a lot.”
That ache again, deep in Dream’s chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “If I could have done it for you, I would have.”
George shakes his head. “You couldn’t have done it. Too much of a wimp.”
“I’m going to let that slide because you’ve had a hard day,” Dream says generously. He almost pinches George’s side in retaliation, but George is exhausted, and he’s holding their son, and Dream won’t do anything to disturb that. He just lets George lay against him and keeps his arms around both of them.
“Do you think you’d want to have another?” Dream asks after a while.
“I literally just gave you one and you already want another?” George sighs. “Now who’s greedy?”
Dream laughs, the breath catching in his throat and forcing him to cough. George glares at the disruption.
“I don’t mean right this second,” he says. “Just thinking ahead.”
“I told you already,” George says happily, “I want a hundred of your pups.”
Dream remembers it vaguely, through the haze of time. Holding George in his arms on the floor of the movie room, whispering about what the future might bring them once they’d decided their future should be together.
The reality is better than he imagined.
“You need to sleep,” he says, forcing words out around the lump forming in his throat. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“I can’t put him down,” George says. “What if he needs me?”
“Give him to me,” Dream says. George looks over at Dream for a moment, considering. Dream would be a little insulted—Theo is his baby too, after all—but he knows every instinct in George’s body is screaming at him to keep Theo close, keep him safe.
“George,” he says softly.
“I know,” George says. His voice is full of emotion, tears in his eyes, and he looks so, so annoyed with himself. “I can’t help it.”
He slowly, so carefully transfers Theo into Dream’s arms. Dream can tell it takes every ounce of willpower George has.
“I’ll keep watch,” he promises as George finally snuggles down into the nest. “I’ll keep him safe.”
They’re in their home, in their bedroom, in the nest that George built. The doors are locked, and they have all the best security money can buy. No one’s after them. There’s no real danger. It doesn’t matter, and Dream feels it too.
Protect. Protect. Protect.
It’s like a heartbeat. A new rhythm for his life.