Michael: As uncharacteristic as it seemed, Michael was incredibly protective over you and the baby bump that had formed and stretched your clothes out over the past five months. You had never known Michael to be particularly cautious in the years you were together as he had always been willing to go out and do something stupid with you, so when the “expecting father” side of him pushed the “Let’s take 12 shots and see where the night goes” side of him out of the picture, it almost shocked you.
Currently you were sat next to Michael, his hand resting gently on your jean clad thigh as the crowd outside roared at the van’s arrival to the radio station. A moment later the doors swung open to allow Ashton and Luke to step out first, huge smiles plastered across their faces. You stood, about to exit the van after Calum, when Michael grabbed your hand, pulling your attention away from the roaring crowd and on to him instead.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa babe, let me go out first,” he insisted, not letting go of your hand. You just rolled your eyes, allowing Michael to pass you and step out into the attention of the crowd.
You had protested his newly found overprotective nature a couple of times before, insisting that just because you were pregnant didn’t mean that you were made of glass. And Michael had listened when you mentioned something, loosening his grip on your hand ever so slightly but not completely relenting his guard over you. By now you had learned that it just made things a lot easier if you went along with whatever Michael wanted. Of course if he got too clingy you weren’t above smacking his hand away but for the most part, you just humored him.
As you stepped out of the van and into the crowd, security guards came up around you and Michael’s fingers tightened over yours, his dark tattoos standing out against your unmarked skin. He had acquired a new inking just after the two of you got married when he discovered that playing the guitar the way he did with a wedding ring on was nearly impossible. So now he had the first letter of your name tattooed onto his ring finger.
Your attention snapped back to the crowd when you felt a hand brush against your belly and you jumped ever so slightly. You weren’t afraid, merely shocked after being in a daze of your own thoughts, but Michael slowed, releasing your hand so he could hold your lower back instead.
“You alright darling?” He murmured, his full lips brushing gently against your ear as his hip pressed into yours from behind, indicating how close he had gotten to you when he thought you were scared.
“Fine babe, tone down the Spidey senses,” you replied, chuckling a little but actually finding that as Michael’s thumb ran circles over your expanded stomach you calmed a little, as did the jittery baby girl inside of you.
“Alright Mary Jane, we better get inside then,” Michael joked back as he placed a kiss to your temple, his hand linking with yours once more.
“Whatever you say Spider-Man,”
Calum: The second a baby bump had started to appear was the same second that Calum determined that you were to remain within his reach at all times. He wasn’t protective, because he knew you would kick his ass if he got too cautious around you or dared to undermine your independence, rather he always wanted to have a hand on you, specifically on your belly.
In a way it seemed that it was a reassurance to him to feel the baby moving around inside of you, twisting and kicking. At the same time it was soothing to you as well, Calum’s gentle rubbing over your stomach becoming a comfort in times of high tension.
The evening of the VMA’s was one of those times. Calum had been hesitant to take you in the first place, seeing as your delivery date was drawing nearer and nearer, only about three weeks out now. But after much begging and the use of your puppy dog face that Calum could never resist, you got your wish.
