The Gatekeeper (LGBT+)

What to Expect when not Expecting

I'm finishing four omelets as David and Porter walk into the apartment.

I take in the sight of my shirtless husband. Not so much my brother. In fact, that kind of grossed me out. The two of them toss their sweaty shirts on the ground, gaining an annoyed glare. They quickly pick up their clothes and dump them in the laundry room before returning.

The apartment is quite a bit larger than our last one. The dining room is probably the smallest place in the house, which only allows a small table with four seats.

Both men sit at the table and I take the omelets off the stove, sliding them on plates.

"You're cooking and it only took around thirty years." Porter smirks.

"You're thirty, I'm not." I smirk as I hand him the plate, "Did you guys have a nice jog?"

"And a pretty good game of b-ball." David smiles.

"B-Ball...sometimes I forget that you're a spaz." I hand him a plate, also. I take mine and sit down beside them, "So, Porter, when are you going home again?"

"Ready to be rid of me?" He asks.

"I'd like to walk around naked." I smile.

"Right on!" David smirks.

"Gross," Charlotte says as she enters the room in one of Porter's button ups, "Hey! You made omelets!"

"On the counter," I nod. She nods and grabs one before sitting opposite me. I laugh, "I so hope you have panties on."

"You couldn't see?"

"I don't want to." I say, thoroughly grossed out.

Porter chuckles, "I did." He gives her an unassuming smirk.

"Me too." David squeaks as he dives into the omelet. When he realizes I'm staring at him, he coughs, "Not that I—I just mean—Fuck."

I laugh at him. He's the king of putting his foot in his mouth. It's endearing, except when it isn't. He again puts his face into the omelet. I look to Charlotte and Porter, who are staring at each other with the sweetest expressions. It is a bit weird that they're together but it makes sense.

Plus, Porter announced to us that he's going to propose to her soon. He showed us the ring.

Suddenly, I feel nauseated. David looks up at me with concern.

"You okay, babe?" He asks.

"I—" I can feel something coming up. I stand and run towards the trashcan, heaving into it. When I'm finished, I turn to see David standing behind me, with Charlotte and Porter watching behind him. I wipe my mouth, "I've been sick all morning. I think maybe I have food poisoning. Does anyone else feel it?"

They all shake their heads. My eyes find Porter, who's staring down at his feet.

"Porter, do you know anything about this? Was it my food?" I ask.

We all stare at him.

"Well, here's the thing..."

"What'd you do?" Charlotte asks.

Porter groans, "So, remember when Prudence said that I'd make a potion that would make you...um, conceive?" He asks.

I feel rage boil up inside me.

"You didn't." David hisses. He looks to me, "You did."

"Fuck...me."

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