Find My Way Home [m×m; mpreg]

thirty three

I hold Ian's hand tightly as we stare at the screen with bated breath.  Immediately the baby's heartbeat floods the medical room as a grainy picture appears of our baby in the center sucking their thumb.

Ian's eyes grow misty and wide in wonder, denying that a tear or two ever escaped.

He's awestruck.

Mesmerized.

And looking at him so enamored with our unborn baby makes my heart skip a beat.  He almost looks innocent, childish with giddiness and genuine happiness.

But that happiness gives way to anger a few days later.

I'm in the living room with Jae talking about everything and anything. 

He still doesn't know about my baby and I tend to keep it that way for as long as possible by hiding behind large hoodies that are frankly beginning to feel too tight.

Jae has become a close friend, someone I'm beginning to trust.  It's easy to talk to him.  And I want to tell him, to admit that I'm pregnant just to share my happiness with him, with someone other than family.  But I've never had friends before, and the idea of losing Jae doesn't sit well with me, not when he's been there for me when Ian couldn't.

I love Ian, but I want someone else I can trust, I want someone I can call a friend.

Jae is that.

Nothing more, nothing less.

But the minute Ian walks through the threshold, I see his anger.  His displeasure at seeing Jae in our living room.

"Allen," he greets stiffly.

"Grayson," Jae nods just as terse.

Ian bends down and kisses the top of my head affectionately.  And I can see how he hurts, how he aches to touch me.

"Isn't that a little weird?" Jae comments, "I mean, displaying such affection to your brother."

My cheeks heat up in embarrassment while Ian glares at Jae.

I intervene before either can start anything, "he's my brother and he's been away for some time, it's only natural to want affection from family."

"Away for some time... is that what being fired is called?"

Ian's glare intensifies, "I took a leave of absence for personal reasons, but I guess it can't be helped when children pretending to be adults run their mouth instead of minding their own business."

"What? Are you implying I'm immature?  Aren't you the one that-"

"That's enough," I cut in, "stop.  Right now you're both being immature."

They stare at me in surprise.

"Jae, I think... I think maybe you should go," I say.

Jae looks even more surprised.  As if he can't believe I'm choosing Ian over him.

He seems resigned as he sighs, standing from his perch.

He approaches me and gives me a tight hug, and I'm terrified that he'll feel my baby bump, feel the baby wiggle and turn.

If he does, he doesn't comment.

"I'll see you later," he says, voice hopeful yet hesitant.

I nod, "later."

With that, he leaves satisfied.

But Ian isn't.

As soon as the door closes behind Jae his gaze falls on me.

"Don't," he says.

"What?  Don't?"

"Don't see him anymore," he elaborates, "don't get so close to him, don't trust him."

I stare at him flabbergasted, "what do you mean don't?  He's my friend."

"No he's not-"

"Yes he is," I argue, "Jae is my friend, I trust him and I don't need your permission to see him."

"This is about your safety!"

And I hate how his voice rises a little, "My safety?  I am safe.  Always.  I'm home, I rarely leave and he comes over and chats because you're always too busy with work, because I'm bored and tired and I just want someone to call friend."

He stops when he catches sight of the tears of anger glistening in my eyes.  He takes a deep breath and exhales, "Anyone, absolutely anyone, can be your friend.  Anyone but him."

"Why?" I ask, blinking away the sting in my eyes, "What do you have against him?  He hasn't done anything and if... I don't... I don't like him like that.  If that's what worries you... I just... I'm tired of being by myself."

He sighs and opens his arms for me.

Immediately I melt in his embrace.

"I know you must feel lonely," he mumbles, "And yes seeing you with him makes my blood boil.  But it's more than just petty jealousy.  You know me, Morgan and I just don't trust him and I never will.  So please, Morgan, believe me when I say he's not the type of person you want to trust.  He's not the kind of person you'd want to call a friend."

I bite my lip.

Ian sounds serious, genuine.

"Why?  Can't you just tell me... why?"

His arms around me only tighten, "No, not right now.  Right now you should focus on our baby, on yourself."

And I can't help but stare at our joined hands on my belly, six months, quickly nearing seven.

"Trust me?"

"Yes," I nod, "You know I do."

"I love you," he whispers, "and I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."

"I love you too," I whisper, cupping his face in my hands tenderly, "I love you."