Stubborn (Patreon)

What the heart mutters, the lips disguise.

Lucas snorted, his eyes rolling out of annoyance. He felt like banging the desk or slapping the student in front of him—Xavier, a year 13 student who had just been caught intentionally flattening a teacher’s car tyre. Xavier was one grade above Lucas, but that did not scare the younger one, not even the slightest. After all, Lucas was the student council president this year. “Can you just not cause trouble at this school at least for once?” he asked furiously.

Xavier just stared at him with the lopsided smile he usually used to tease or challenge his opponents. Yes, opponents. Aside from frequently misbehaving at the school itself, he was also often involved in brawls with other school students or arguably worse, gang members.

Lucas was struggling to keep his anger in check. He scrubbed his face with both hands, while searching for some way to make that unruly senior straighten up, or at the very least stop wreaking havoc and throwing his weight around.

“Why are you making a fuss and so loud?” Xavier asked. “Just go, go back to your class and don’t bother with me anymore.”

Lucas’ eyes glared at Xavier, while his hands clenched tightly. His annoyance grew even more when Xavier's smile widened. "Why are you smiling? Are you out of your mind?" he asked, grabbing the other guy's collar to pull him closer. If not for his position as Student Council President, Lucas might have punched the senior in the face.

Lucas fixed Xavier with a sharp glare, his hands clenching tightly as if holding himself back. His annoyance only grew worse when Xavier’s grin stretched wider, as though he found delight in provoking him. “What on earth are you smiling at? Have you completely lost your senses?” he demanded, seizing the front of Xavier’s blazer to drag him closer. If not for the fact that he was the head boy, Lucas might already have landed a punch on the fellow sixth-former’s face.

“Don’t be so stern. You only make me more amused, and I find it rather endearing,” Xavier replied, a remark that made Lucas’ blood boil even further.

And yet, deep within, Lucas could not deny a thrill that rose up at moments like these. For a long time he had carried quiet feelings for his upperclassman, though he chose never to confess them. It was not cowardice that kept him silent, but the knowledge that he might lose chances like this to be near Xavier. The thought almost brought a smile to his lips, if not for the troublesome situation before him. “Stop talking such nonsense. I’m beginning to think you have been drinking as well. Own up, you fool!” he snapped, his fingers tightening even harder on Xavier’s collar.

“Mind your manners when you speak to an upper sixth-former. You cannot even bring yourself to consider me your senior, and you are supposed to be setting an example for everyone else in this school,” Xavier retorted, eyes glinting with challenge, that insufferable smile still fixed on his face.

Lucas shot back sharply, “You don’t deserve courtesy or respect from me, or from anyone else in this school.” He released Xavier’s collar, now rumpled from his grip. “A mouth like yours has no right to lecture about setting examples or respect, you know that?”

This time it was Xavier who scoffed, clearly stung by Lucas’s words. He turned to walk away, only to have the student council president seized his wrist.

“We’re not finished here.”

“What do you want now?” Xavier asked, sounding bored.

“You haven’t had your punishment,” Lucas replied. “So you’re not going anywhere. You think you can get away with letting Mr. Whitaker’s tyres go flat and expect me to just let it slide?” His hand stayed clamped around the older boy’s wrist, secretly relishing the contact. If he were being honest, Lucas would much rather hold Xavier’s hand in a different moment, in a far better circumstance than this.

With a rough jerk, Xavier pulled his hand free from Lucas’s grip. “You don’t even know why I let the air out of Mr. Whitaker’s tyres, do you? Don’t go pretending you’re some saint!”

Lucas shook his head. “I’m not pretending to be anything. Whatever deal you’ve got with Mr. Whitaker, it doesn’t make you right for deflating his tyres,” he said calmly.

Hearing Lucas suddenly speak without his usual bite, Xavier faltered. It was as though he no longer had the words to answer back.

“Now come with me,” said Lucas, taking hold of Xavier’s wrist once more, this time to tug him along. He knew all too well that troublemakers were usually hauled to the storage shed by teachers intent on doling out punishment. Naturally, that was what Lucas had in mind for Xavier: to see him punished.

Once they were inside the shed, Xavier let out a long, weary sigh. “Fine. You don’t need to stand over me. I’ll clean up the garden out here, and I’ll sweep inside the shed as well.”

“No, I’ll bloody well wait here,” Lucas snapped. “How the hell am I supposed to trust someone like you?” Just as Xavier stepped forward to grab a broom, Lucas caught his hand and leaned close, his voice low against his ear. “And what, did you think your punishment this time would be nothing more than sweeping up the garden as usual?”

“What the hell are you on about? Let me go!” Xavier barked, thrashing against him, but it was pointless. Lucas was stronger than he looked.

Lucas yanked him closer, locking his arms tight around him from behind.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Stop asking questions,” Lucas said evenly, his grip unyielding.

Xavier cursed under his breath, fighting to shake him off. “For fuck’s sake, just let me go!”

“Not a chance,” Lucas muttered, tightening his hold, determined to make his senior see he wasn’t about to slip out of this so easily. He squeezed Xavier’s arse hard, closing his eyes to the fantasy about how tightly its hole would clamp down on his cock.

· · ·

Three months had passed since Lucas had forced himself upon Xavier when they were in the school storage shed. Through those months, Xavier often went to the restroom, especially during the first class of the day as he felt nauseous in the morning. He also felt physically weakened, causing him to be less involved in school brawls, and he did not cause trouble as frequent as before.

Lucas, of course, had noticed that he had been seeing less and less of Xavier. Still, he refused to ask the older boy anything. He would just bump into that delinquent again the next time he pulled some stunt. And sure enough, he did.

As luck would have it, Xavier reached out.

Through WhatsApp, because his number no doubt already passed around to half the school, Xavier had asked to meet him. Which was how the two of them ended up on the rooftop of one of the quieter school buildings, a spot only ever used for the occasional smoke by a handful of troublemakers—Xavier included.

“I’ll get straight to the point. I honestly don’t know what else to do about this.”

“What do you mean? What is it you’re trying to say?” Lucas shot back, refusing to waste words, even though part of him wished he could drag the conversation out a little longer.Xavier made certain no one was around, especially by the stairwell leading up to the rooftop. Instead of speaking right away, he undid a few buttons from the bottom of his shirt, which was never once tucked properly into his grey trousers, and tugged at the T-shirt beneath, revealing a stomach that had begun to swell slightly.

Lucas had already guessed where this was headed, but he deliberately stalled, just to glimpse another side of the notorious troublemaker. “Bloated stomach, is it?” he quipped.

Xavier nearly shouted a curse in his face, but restrained himself. This was still school grounds, after all. “Don’t play dumb, you bastard,” he growled.

“Oh? And what exactly do you mean?” Lucas pressed, deliberately trying to rile him up.

What the heart mutters, the lips disguise.

Lucas snorted, his eyes rolling out of annoyance. He felt like banging the desk or slapping the student in front of him—Xavier, a year 13 student who had just been caught intentionally flattening a teacher’s car tyre. Xavier was one grade above Lucas, but that did not scare the younger one, not even the slightest. After all, Lucas was the student council president this year. “Can you just not cause trouble at this school at least for once?” he asked furiously.

Xavier just stared at him with the lopsided smile he usually used to tease or challenge his opponents. Yes, opponents. Aside from frequently misbehaving at the school itself, he was also often involved in brawls with other school students or arguably worse, gang members.

Lucas was struggling to keep his anger in check. He scrubbed his face with both hands, while searching for some way to make that unruly senior straighten up, or at the very least stop wreaking havoc and throwing his weight around.

“Why are you making a fuss and so loud?” Xavier asked. “Just go, go back to your class and don’t bother with me anymore.”

Lucas’ eyes glared at Xavier, while his hands clenched tightly. His annoyance grew even more when Xavier's smile widened. "Why are you smiling? Are you out of your mind?" he asked, grabbing the other guy's collar to pull him closer. If not for his position as Student Council President, Lucas might have punched the senior in the face.

Lucas fixed Xavier with a sharp glare, his hands clenching tightly as if holding himself back. His annoyance only grew worse when Xavier’s grin stretched wider, as though he found delight in provoking him. “What on earth are you smiling at? Have you completely lost your senses?” he demanded, seizing the front of Xavier’s blazer to drag him closer. If not for the fact that he was the head boy, Lucas might already have landed a punch on the fellow sixth-former’s face.

“Don’t be so stern. You only make me more amused, and I find it rather endearing,” Xavier replied, a remark that made Lucas’ blood boil even further.

And yet, deep within, Lucas could not deny a thrill that rose up at moments like these. For a long time he had carried quiet feelings for his upperclassman, though he chose never to confess them. It was not cowardice that kept him silent, but the knowledge that he might lose chances like this to be near Xavier. The thought almost brought a smile to his lips, if not for the troublesome situation before him. “Stop talking such nonsense. I’m beginning to think you have been drinking as well. Own up, you fool!” he snapped, his fingers tightening even harder on Xavier’s collar.

“Mind your manners when you speak to an upper sixth-former. You cannot even bring yourself to consider me your senior, and you are supposed to be setting an example for everyone else in this school,” Xavier retorted, eyes glinting with challenge, that insufferable smile still fixed on his face.

Lucas shot back sharply, “You don’t deserve courtesy or respect from me, or from anyone else in this school.” He released Xavier’s collar, now rumpled from his grip. “A mouth like yours has no right to lecture about setting examples or respect, you know that?”

This time it was Xavier who scoffed, clearly stung by Lucas’s words. He turned to walk away, only to have the student council president seized his wrist.

“We’re not finished here.”

“What do you want now?” Xavier asked, sounding bored.

“You haven’t had your punishment,” Lucas replied. “So you’re not going anywhere. You think you can get away with letting Mr. Whitaker’s tyres go flat and expect me to just let it slide?” His hand stayed clamped around the older boy’s wrist, secretly relishing the contact. If he were being honest, Lucas would much rather hold Xavier’s hand in a different moment, in a far better circumstance than this.

With a rough jerk, Xavier pulled his hand free from Lucas’s grip. “You don’t even know why I let the air out of Mr. Whitaker’s tyres, do you? Don’t go pretending you’re some saint!”

Lucas shook his head. “I’m not pretending to be anything. Whatever deal you’ve got with Mr. Whitaker, it doesn’t make you right for deflating his tyres,” he said calmly.

Hearing Lucas suddenly speak without his usual bite, Xavier faltered. It was as though he no longer had the words to answer back.

“Now come with me,” said Lucas, taking hold of Xavier’s wrist once more, this time to tug him along. He knew all too well that troublemakers were usually hauled to the storage shed by teachers intent on doling out punishment. Naturally, that was what Lucas had in mind for Xavier: to see him punished.

Once they were inside the shed, Xavier let out a long, weary sigh. “Fine. You don’t need to stand over me. I’ll clean up the garden out here, and I’ll sweep inside the shed as well.”

“No, I’ll bloody well wait here,” Lucas snapped. “How the hell am I supposed to trust someone like you?” Just as Xavier stepped forward to grab a broom, Lucas caught his hand and leaned close, his voice low against his ear. “And what, did you think your punishment this time would be nothing more than sweeping up the garden as usual?”

“What the hell are you on about? Let me go!” Xavier barked, thrashing against him, but it was pointless. Lucas was stronger than he looked.

Lucas yanked him closer, locking his arms tight around him from behind.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Stop asking questions,” Lucas said evenly, his grip unyielding.

Xavier cursed under his breath, fighting to shake him off. “For fuck’s sake, just let me go!”

“Not a chance,” Lucas muttered, tightening his hold, determined to make his senior see he wasn’t about to slip out of this so easily. He squeezed Xavier’s arse hard, closing his eyes to the fantasy about how tightly its hole would clamp down on his cock.

· · ·

Three months had passed since Lucas had forced himself upon Xavier when they were in the school storage shed. Through those months, Xavier often went to the restroom, especially during the first class of the day as he felt nauseous in the morning. He also felt physically weakened, causing him to be less involved in school brawls, and he did not cause trouble as frequent as before.

Lucas, of course, had noticed that he had been seeing less and less of Xavier. Still, he refused to ask the older boy anything. He would just bump into that delinquent again the next time he pulled some stunt. And sure enough, he did.

As luck would have it, Xavier reached out.

Through WhatsApp, because his number no doubt already passed around to half the school, Xavier had asked to meet him. Which was how the two of them ended up on the rooftop of one of the quieter school buildings, a spot only ever used for the occasional smoke by a handful of troublemakers—Xavier included.

“I’ll get straight to the point. I honestly don’t know what else to do about this.”

“What do you mean? What is it you’re trying to say?” Lucas shot back, refusing to waste words, even though part of him wished he could drag the conversation out a little longer.Xavier made certain no one was around, especially by the stairwell leading up to the rooftop. Instead of speaking right away, he undid a few buttons from the bottom of his shirt, which was never once tucked properly into his grey trousers, and tugged at the T-shirt beneath, revealing a stomach that had begun to swell slightly.

Lucas had already guessed where this was headed, but he deliberately stalled, just to glimpse another side of the notorious troublemaker. “Bloated stomach, is it?” he quipped.

Xavier nearly shouted a curse in his face, but restrained himself. This was still school grounds, after all. “Don’t play dumb, you bastard,” he growled.

“Oh? And what exactly do you mean?” Lucas pressed, deliberately trying to rile him up.

Xavier dropped his gaze, fists clenched tight in frustration. “I’m pregnant,” he said at last, looking straight at the student council president. He let out a heavy sigh, fingers twitching as if to fasten his shirt again; only to be stopped by Lucas.

“Relax. I’ll take responsibility once the baby’s here,” Lucas whispered, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he brushed a hand gently over Xavier’s stomach.

Xavier had not expected that response, not even the slightest. He did not exactly know what to say, especially with Lucas’s hand resting firmly against his stomach. “Y-you mean it? You’ll really take responsibility?”

A small nod was all the answer he got. Lucas then lowered himself to his knees, brushing his hand once more over Xavier’s stomach before pressing a gentle kiss to it. “Please take care of my child, yeah?” he murmured, clasping the older boy’s hand in his own. He helped fasten Xavier’s shirt back into place, then rose and walked away; leaving Xavier rooted to the spot, his mind reeling with questions.

· · ·

Xavier’s stomach had been cramping since last night, but he chose to ignore it and did not tell Lucas, or anyone, anything. While sitting in class, the pain grew sharper, and soon it became unbearable. Even though he was already wearing a loose jacket, Xavier also wore a corset to school every day to keep his belly from showing too much; though anyone paying a bit of attention could notice the swell. His close friends often made jokes about it, sometimes after getting into fights with him or skipping class together to smoke outside school.

Xavier slowly stepped up to the front of the class to ask permission from Mr. Whitaker, who was teaching at the time. “Sir, excuse me, may I go to the restroom?” he asked, one hand pressed against his stomach.

Seeing the boy’s sweaty face, there was no way Mr. Whitaker could bring himself to say no. Go ahead, but are you alright?” he asked worriedly, after noticing the way Xavier had been standing and walking. “Or do you want to stop by the nurse’s office instead?” he added, sensing something unusual. Having two children of his own, Mr. Whitaker could tell there was something different about Xavier’s movements. Surely it was not just a stomachache that made him walk like that.

“Eh, no, it’s fine, Sir. Sorry, I’ll go now.”

Walking unsteadily, Xavier could only think of making it to the restroom at the end of the hall. He slipped into one of the stalls, pulled his trousers down, and sat on the toilet.

“UUUHHHNGHH!” Xavier groaned as a contraction struck, clutching at his stomach still bound by the corset, not caring if anyone might hear.

Splash!

Startled by the sudden rush of fluid spilling out of his hole, Xavier spread his legs and leaned forward, staring down at the toilet bowl, now clouded with murky liquid. His limited knowledge of pregnancy was enough for him to realise that this had to be his water breaking.

Without another thought, Xavier immediately called Lucas. He was lucky because Lucas’ class had a free period all the way until dismissal.

Without wasting a second, Lucas dashed down the hallway toward the place where Xavier was waiting. He hurriedly helped him pull his trousers back on, then guided him down the corridor to the old storage room, the very same room where Lucas had gotten him pregnant months before.

“AAAHHHKHH! It hurts so fucking much!” Xavier cursed the moment Lucas closed the door behind them and locked it, making sure no one would disturb the boy now on the verge of giving birth. Quickly, Lucas helped him strip his trousers off again and grabbed an old banner left over from last year’s school charity event. He spread it across the floor, then positioned Xavier to kneel on it, looping his arms around his own neck for support.

“Breathe with me, alright?” Lucas said calmly, massaging the lower part of Xavier’s back in slow, steady circles. It was oddly tender coming for the same troublemaker whose name the guidance counsellor always had on the call list—yet right now, Lucas’s voice and hands were steady, almost reassuring Xavier.

Not wanting to look weak in front of him, Xavier tried to steady himself. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled with measured effort. The pain, of course, did not fade, but Lucas’s touch on his back made it just a little more bearable. Maybe Lucas really would take responsibility for their child after all. For so long, it was Xavier who had failed to take proper care. He never once went to see a doctor, never paying much attention to nutrition or his lifestyle. The guilt of it now mixed with the contractions that tore through him.

Another wave hit, and Xavier buried his face against Lucas’s neck, muffling a low moan.“UUUHHHMMMMHH ….” His body screamed for release. Whispering through clenched teeth, he admitted, “It hurts so bad. I need to push.”

Lucas nodded in understanding, murmuring back, “Then go on, just hold onto me and push, okay?” He tightened his hold, letting Xavier cling to him as the contractions built stronger, the memory of his water breaking in the bathroom still vivid in both their minds.

The pressure was brutal like his lower body was being split apart. Xavier bore down with all his strength. “NNNNNGGGHHHHHH!”

Xavier could feel the baby descending, pressing lower into the birth canal. This was going to be etched into him forever; not because it was beautiful, but because of how agonisingly real it felt. His face flushed crimson, his breaths came ragged, and every ounce of control slipped as the raw power of labor consumed him.

“Steady your breathing, alright?” Lucas murmured, his tone calm as he held Xavier close and rubbed along the small of his back.

Xavier’s legs trembled under the strain of kneeling. “UUUUNNGHHHHH!” he groaned, bearing down hard, his fists clutching at Lucas’s school shirt in desperation as waves of pain tore through his belly and lower body. “I can’t— I need to change positions.” Breaking free from Lucas’s neck, he shifted into a squat right there on the worn banner spread beneath him. Xavier tried to regain control, dragging in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. “MMMHH, fuck, my stomach hurts so bad,” he muttered, gripping both knees with shaking hands.

Lucas only nodded, choosing not to speak too much, letting Xavier find his rhythm amidst the overwhelming sensations ripping through his body. Then he noticed the corset beneath Xavier’s shirt, the one he had been wearing all along to hide the pregnancy. Carefully, Lucas unfastened it and slipped it away, laying a gentle palm on Xavier’s swollen belly. A faint, reassuring smile crossed his lips. He reached out, lacing his fingers firmly with Xavier’s.

Clutching Lucas’s hands, Xavier bore down again as the next contraction slammed into him. His baby’s head was dropping lower now, pressing insistently against the opening of his arsehole. “HHHHNNNGGHHHHH! It burns— I can’t take it!” he cried out. For someone so used to fights, brawls, and the sting of bruises, Xavier found himself utterly undone by the raw torment of childbirth.

“Trust me. I know you can do this,” Lucas urged, giving him as much encouragement as he could muster.

But Xavier shook his head weakly. He had been pushing for several long minutes, yet the baby’s head still refused to emerge. His chest heaved, sweat dripping down his temple as he gasped, “HHHHHAAAHHH! I can’t do this anymore!”

Seeing how much Xavier was suffering, Lucas thought about changing his position after checking between his legs and realising the baby was not making much progress. He guided his senior to get down on all fours, bracing on his hands and knees like an animal. “In this position you look like a mare, you know,” Lucas teased.

“AAARRRGGHHH!” Xavier roared as he bore down hard. “A stallion, you bastard!” Of course, he could not resist snapping back.

“There’s no such thing as a pregnant stallion.”

“And there’s no such thing as a mare with a dick like mine either!” Xavier shot back through gritted teeth. Once this baby was born, he swore he would smack Lucas’ head in with Mr. Whitaker books. “Fuck, fuck— quit joking around! Your baby’s about to come out, but it’s so damn tough— NNNNGGHHHH! HHHHUUUHHHH … FFFUUUUUHHHH … SSSSSHHH …” Xavier panted, straining to keep his breathing steady between pushes.

Lucas smiled despite the situation, unable to hide the warmth in his chest as he watched Xavier fight to deliver the very child born of his seed months ago. “Easy, okay? I’m here, and I’ll always be here for you.”

Those words slipped out so effortlessly it almost disarmed Xavier. His cheeks flushed faintly, though he shook his head, refusing to believe he could ever feel anything for the student council president who had forced him into this.

“Easy for you to say, dickhead! Because of you I have to suffer through this just to push your kid out! AAAAARRGHHHHH!” He bore down again, body shaking with the effort, but still the baby’s head refused to crown. Every ounce of strength he poured into the push only left him with the searing, burning stretch at the rim of his arsehole; the skin pulling taut, aching as though it might tear, but no relief yet.

“Xavier, I’m gonna cut your hole, alright? It’ll help the baby come out easier.”

“What? Are you insane? Who the hell do you think you are, trying to cut my arsehole?! SSSHHH— AAAANNGHHHHH!”

“Who am I? The father of the child you’re about to push out of your body, that’s who,” Lucas shot back with conviction. “I’m cutting, okay, Xavier?” he asked again, steady but firm. He knew the baby would not make it out on its own. Xavier’s opening was too tight, straining without progress.

Worse, Lucas worried Xavier might exhaust himself and pass out.

From his bag, Lucas pulled the scissors he had grabbed from the nurse’s office earlier. He doused them with hand sanitiser, then carefully brought the blades close to the rim of Xavier’s birthing hole.

The chill of metal brushed against the tender skin at the edge, dangerously close to where his swollen balls hung. Xavier shuddered, resigned to whatever Lucas would do. He barely had time to draw a breath before a searing pain ripped through him.

“AAAAAAARGHHHH! At least warn me before you cut!” he howled, biting down on his lip as sharp agony radiated from that single spot out into his whole body.

Lucas pressed a folded handkerchief firmly against the fresh cut, trying to steady the torn flesh. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he muttered, “I did ask you first, Xavier.”

“UUUNNGGHHHHH!” Xavier groaned as the next contraction bore down. To his surprise, there was relief in the pain; the space gave way, and the baby’s head began to edge forward. It still burned, but it was finally moving. His face flushed crimson, his body trembling as he clutched his belly with one hand, the other and both knees supporting his weight. “MMMHHH … SSHHHH … damn it …” he cursed between gasps, his whole body taut with effort. With a gush of fluid, the baby’s head finally emerged, forcing his hole to open wide and leaving him feeling painfully stretched, unbearably full. Sweat soaked his shirt, his body slick with strain. He just wanted it all to be over.

“Take a deep breath first. When the pressure builds again, then push,” Lucas told Xavier, the boy he secretly wished might become something more to him one day. He gently brushed Xavier’s hand away from his own swollen belly, replacing it with his own palm, stroking in slow, deliberate circles. When he felt the muscles tighten beneath his touch, he urged softly, “Push now, Xavier. Bear down for me, okay? You’re gonna be fine. I’m right here with you.”

Xavier drew in a long breath, then roared as he bore down with all his strength. “HHHHUUUHHHHHH— AAAANNGGGHHHHH!” He wanted to shout Lucas’s name, curse the boy who had gotten him pregnant, but he refused to give him that satisfaction. “EUMMMNNNNGGHHH! Why the hell is your kid so big?!” he groaned, voice breaking through his cries.

Lucas only smiled, cheeks heating as he watched the scene before him. “One more time,” he coaxed, steadying his hands at Xavier’s straining entrance. From his angle he could see everything: the rim stretched wide, taut and slick, the crown of the baby’s head slowly forcing its way through. “Come on, Xavier, you’ve got this.”

Bit by bit, Xavier’s body opened around the child. The tight ring of his arsehole bulged outward, the skin shining as it thinned under the pressure.

Lucas swallowed hard, surprised to feel a stirring deep in his gut at the sight, even as sweat beaded along his brow. He had not expected that seeing Xavier in this state—raw, powerful, torn open by labor—would make him feel anything but awe.

“UUUNNGGHHHHHH!” Xavier groaned again, fists clenched against the floor. The burning stretch consumed him, every nerve alight, like his lower half was being split in two. With one final, desperate push, the widest part of the baby’s head slipped free, stretching him impossibly before bursting through.

A piercing newborn cry filled the room.

Collapsing back, Xavier shifted onto his rear, spreading his legs and letting his back rest against one of the unused desks pushed into the corner of the storage room. His chest heaved as he stared, wordless, at the tiny, slippery infant now cradled in Lucas’s arms.

“A boy,” Lucas announced softly, his face breaking into a broad smile.

Though reluctant, Xavier found himself returning a faint smile of his own. For a fleeting moment, Lucas looked so unbearably gentle, so careful, that Xavier almost forgot the resentment he carried.

But his respite was short-lived. A new cramp twisted through his belly. He gasped, clutching at himself. “Lucas … my stomach hurts again.”

“That’s the placenta,” Lucas said calmly. “Just push. It’ll come out easy.”

Hearing that, Xavier bore down again—but the contractions were far stronger than he expected. “UUUMMMMNNGGGHHHHH … I swear, I am never going through this again.” He clutched his knees tightly, chin pressed hard against his chest as he pushed with every ounce of strength. “HHHHNNNNGGGHHHHHHHhhhnnnggggghhhhhh!”

Something heavy and solid shifted deep inside, forcing its way down through Xavier’s arsehole, demanding to be born. His legs shook uncontrollably, his rim still quivering and raw from the first delivery, the burn sharp and relentless.

“Xavier— It’s twins!” Lucas gasped as he saw what was emerging: another baby, sliding down into view. His expression lit up in astonishment, but then his joy faltered.

“You’re not gonna take responsibility if I give you twins?” Xavier shot back bitterly, groaning as he pressed one hand against his belly, trying to force the second child downward.“AAAKKHHHHHAaaakkhhhhh— damn it, why does it hurt just as bad the second time?!”

Lucas swallowed nervously, panic creeping in. “No, Xavier, that’s not it. I’ll take responsibility, I swear, but …” his words caught in his throat.

A wave of dread washed over Xavier. How was he supposed to focus on pushing when Lucas’s face looked like that? “But what? What is it, Lucas? What’s wrong with the baby?!” he demanded, firing questions through gritted teeth even as another contraction seized him, forcing him to push again by instinct.

“The baby’s breech, Xavier,” Lucas admitted, voice tight with panic.

As Xavier strained again, Lucas quickly handed the first newborn into his arms so it could feel his warmth against bare skin. Then Lucas shifted back to his vantage point, eyes fixed on Xavier’s straining birthing hole. The baby’s bottom and one tiny leg had already slipped out, and he braced his hands carefully around the emerging body, trying to guide it without letting the tear along Xavier’s rim worsen.

“Push again, love,” Lucas urged softly, deliberately letting the endearment slip, wanting Xavier to hear what he truly felt, and curious what kind of reaction it might stir even in the middle of this agony.

“MMNNNGGGHHHHHH!” Xavier bore down, his whole body trembling. The strain forced both of the baby’s tiny legs free, slick and kicking weakly in the open air. He gasped, chest heaving, grabbing for just a moment of relief.

Lucas caught his hand and guided it down. “Here, feel that. Just a little more, Xavier. Only the head left.” His voice was steady, though he knew the head was always the hardest, especially in a breech. But he refused to let Xavier hear that panic.

Fingers brushing over the newborn’s slippery torso, Xavier’s heart raced. His breathing was ragged, chest and belly rising and falling as he tried to summon what little strength he had left. Not long now, he told himself. Not long. He drew in a sharp breath, teeth bared, as the burn in his hole rim reignited. He braced his knees, leaned forward, and pushed.“HHHHNNNGGGHHHHHHH! Shit, it’s— AAAHHHH, FUCKKHH— so tight!”

The second baby’s head began to wedge against the rim, stretching it mercilessly wider than before. His cries broke into raw, guttural groans.

“UUUUNNNGGHHHHHHH!”

“One more push, Xavier,” Lucas encouraged with a smile that tried to disguise the tension in his chest. “I promise, this is the last.”

His strength was nearly gone, but Xavier clenched his fists, letting the contraction seize his belly and drive the child outward. He screamed through gritted teeth,“MMMHHHUUUHHHH— EUUNNNGGGHHHHHHH!”

With one final, desperate shove, the baby’s head slipped free, the rest of the body following in a wet rush. Xavier collapsed back against the desk behind him, drained, gulping in air.

Lucas’ grin spread as he lifted the crying newborn into his arms, though Xavier kept his own lips pressed tight, refusing to let Lucas see even a flicker of satisfaction on his face. If I smile, he’ll get too smug, he thought.

“It’s a girl,” Lucas whispered, beaming down at the slippery, squirming infant in his arms. He cradled her gently, as if she were made of glass. He had not carried them in his own body, hadn’t endured the pain, but he was the first to hold them both and Xavier could not bring himself to care. He was too exhausted to protest, too hollowed out to fight.

“You pick the name, Xavier,” Lucas said softly, eyes never leaving their daughter’s face.

· · ·

Photo by Ivan Dražić