12 Days of Christmas - Day 9 - Aiden & Thomas - The Bedroom (Patreon)

Sorry, I know this is late. It was my daughters birthday and things just got so crazy. I thought I'd scheduled the newsletter but...I didn't.

Thomas stood in the doorway of Cricket’s suite, resting against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched Cricket, Zane, Felix, and Noah all attempting to do a TikTok dance that would “help progress her labor.” 

The music thumped softly from someone’s phone, bass vibrating through the hardwood floors, a steady pulse that seemed to sync with the house itself, and for a moment Thomas just stood there and took it in, the absurdity, the noise, the life. The way laughter bounced off the walls, the way everyone moved a little closer to Cricket without seeming to notice they were doing it. 

Cricket laughed breathlessly as she tried to keep up with the choreography, then abruptly stopped, one hand bracing against her lower back. The smile stayed on her face, but Thomas clocked the subtle shift immediately, the way her shoulders tensed, the way her breath went shallow.

“Hold on,” she said, waving them off. “Just–give me a second.”

The room adjusted around her without discussion. Zane steadied her elbow. Noah leaned in, murmuring something only she could hear. Felix turned the volume down a notch. Thomas checked the time without meaning to, muscle memory kicking in from decades of controlled crises. Atticus lifted his gaze from his phone, also noting the time. He watched Cricket carefully, tensed in case he needed to move quickly. 

“I’m gonna need to check your dilation again in about ten minutes or so,” Atticus reminded her. 

She gave a stilted nod, breathing in through her nose, then blowing out through her mouth. Thomas bit back a smile as Noah, Zane and Felix all breathed with her. Sometimes he was blown away by how big his family had grown, how much his life had changed. 

Zane took a cool cloth, mopping the sweat from Cricket’s brow. Noah straightened the loose bun at the top of her head that had flopped to the side a bit. 

Asa and Avi sat on the floor, backs to the wall, knees drawn up, gazing at their husbands with an affection Thomas had once thought they were entirely incapable of. It still caught him off guard sometimes, how openly affectionate they’d become, how easily they wore their devotion now. How fiercely they seemed to love their spouses and their children. They sat pressed together, bodies touching from shoulder to calf, two halves of one whole. Maybe the surprise wasn’t that the four of them had ended up together, but that Thomas and the others hadn’t called it from the start. 

The tension drained from Atticus’s shoulders as Cricket’s contraction faded. She gripped the edge of the bed while Noah rubbed her lower back. Zane grabbed ice chips from the corner of the room while Felix straightened the covers on her bed, making sure nothing would be bunched beneath her when the time came. It was busy work but Thomas understood the need to feel useful in a situation with very few variables within their control. 

When the contraction passed, Atticus returned his attention to his phone, likely texting his husband.  Jericho checked in periodically, drifting between rooms, checking on his older children, making sure they felt welcome and comfortable in Thomas’s home. Thomas noted, not for the first time, how Jericho always seemed to position himself between chaos and calm, like a buffer. He had become a bridge between the oldest in the family and the youngest.

Matty had joined Jericho’s little clique as soon as they’d arrived and they’d welcomed him and Jordan easily. Matty still had no idea that the ‘Lake’ the others spoke of, was the real name of the guy he’d hooked up with during the gala or that he might arrive at any moment. Thomas tried not to involve himself in the drama of the younger ones, but Matty was his brother-in-law, no matter how young he was. And–technically–Thomas hadn’t involved himself, the others had; him and everyone else on comms that Halloween night.

Now, both he and Aiden knew that Matty had slept with Lake, even though Matty and Lake didn’t know they’d slept with each other. It was messy. It would only get messier. But Thomas and Aiden had discussed it at length and decided against telling him. Not for “the plot,” as Jericho’s other kids had said, but because they didn’t want Matty thinking this was some hazing ritual or that everyone had known but him. He wanted Matty and Aiden to have a relationship. Aiden had a huge family here with him, but Matty had nobody. Just Aiden…and Jordan, of course.

With Cricket’s contraction passed, they restarted the video. They were recording for a number of reasons. They were distracting Cricket from her slow-progressing labor, they were documenting the event to the world via social media, and they were having a good time. 

“Wanna join us, Freckles?” Felix called, hitting record on the video, the music queuing up once more. “God knows you can move your hips. My brother never shuts up about it.”

Noah, Zane, and Cricket snickered at that. Atticus just smirked without looking up from his phone. It was astounding how much his eldest son had mellowed since meeting Jericho and becoming a father himself. Things that used to upset him seemed to roll off his back with ease now. Thomas had once worried Atticus’s edges would never soften.

They’d barely made it through the song before Cricket bent forward suddenly, palms braced on her thighs, eyes closing as she breathed through another contraction. The laughter softened instinctively, voices lowering, the music fading into background noise.

Another breath passed. Cricket straightened, rolled her shoulders, and lifted her chin.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m good. Play it again.”

And just like that, the room exhaled.

The children had separated into two clear factions. The tiniest of Mulvaneys–Theo, Allister, Oscar, and West–were currently curled up in the corner of Cricket’s room, buried under blankets, watching Mickey’s Twice Upon a Christmas, somehow oblivious to the chaos just feet away. The TV cast a soft blue glow across their faces, Theo’s socked feet sticking out of the edge of the blanket, knocking against Allister’s leg. Oscar curled around West, sucking his thumb, already halfway to sleep. Allister’s hand rested flat against the carpet, fingers splayed.

The older four—Adi, Ara, Jett, and Jagger—were running wild somewhere within the confines of the mansion, their distant laughter echoing faintly through the vents and stairwells.

Thomas wasn’t worried for their safety. There were adults strewn far and wide across the house, the doors locked, the alarms engaged, and somewhere Ever was making sure everyone survived the night. As long as everyone remained within the house, they were safe. 

Thomas had made sure of that.

It was a familiar comfort, control layered beneath care, vigilance disguised as generosity. He’d built this place not just to house them, but to protect them. Every reinforced wall, every quiet security measure, every contingency plan had been an act of love, whether anyone else ever realized it or not. Even now, his mind ticked through redundancies automatically, a background hum he couldn’t shut off. 

“Come on, Cricket,” Noah encouraged around a laugh. “You gotta put your back into it. Twerk that baby out.”

“Yeah, create an environment so hostile the baby doesn’t want to stay anymore,” Zane said around a laugh. “He’s too comfortable. Your womb is too hospitable.”

Cricket laughed, then abruptly sucked in a sharp breath, one hand flying to the bedpost. Her knuckles went white as she leaned into it, forehead dropping forward.

“Okay,” she muttered. “Okay. Fuuuu–dge,” she finished carefully, aware of little ears. “That one’s a little spicy.”

The room recalibrated instantly. Someone paused the music. Felix stepped closer. Noah crouched in front of her, murmuring encouragement. Thomas noted the timing again, the gap between contractions collapsing.

“It’s not my fault this kid doesn’t want to leave,” she cried once the tension eased, her hair starting to fall from its bun once more. “He’s got my cervix locked down like Fort Knox.” 

“Have you seen rent prices?” Zane asked. “I wouldn’t want to leave either. He’s got free room and board, food on tap, a pool open 24/7.”

A low groan escaped her. “This sucks.”

“Have you thought about names?” Asa asked suddenly, like Cricket wasn’t bent over and dripping sweat onto the floor. “We have to be running out of ‘A’ names by now.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Cricket said through gritted teeth. “Distract me.”

She waved off the others attempting to help, then walked around the bed, her hands never leaving the mattress as she went. She was fiercely independent and unwaveringly loyal. Thomas had instantly thought of her as a daughter. There were few women in the family, but Thomas was forever grateful for the few they had. While he thought of Cricket as a daughter, he thought of Calliope as a sister, now Lola too. Ara and Adi were going to need them as they grew up, whether their fathers knew it or not. 

Thomas startled as Lucas set his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. He stepped out of the way to allow him and August entrance. They’d gone downstairs to check on the girls and grab some food. They seemed surprised to see all the others still sitting around the space. 

“What’s happening downstairs?” Noah asked. 

August shook his head. “Calliope and Lola snuck off together. Archer and Adam are teaching the twins, Jett and Jagger to play poker using cookies as poker chips, Cree and Jordan appear to be having another movie date alone in the theater room and ‘Lake watch’ has unofficially begun though Matty still seems painfully oblivious.” 

He slid down the wall to land beside Avi and Asa, while Lucas went directly to Cricket, perching carefully on the edge of her bed, one hand automatically going to her knee. “What’s happening?” he asked. “What did we miss? Are you okay?”

Atticus glanced up. “Her contractions are coming in fast now. About three minutes apart. I’m gonna check her cervix in another five minutes and we’ll see where we’re at.” 

“Cricket wants to talk baby names,” Noah said. “Hopefully bad ones.”

Cricket looked at Lucas then August, her cheeks bright and body damp with perspiration. “We’re gonna have to decide on something soon.”

Felix straightened. “I’m so down. Let's do this. Don’t be boring either. Let's get creative.”

Zane raised a brow. “What are you hoping for? You want a nephew named Aquaman or Avalon?”

“You named—” Cricket shot back, then paused, eyes squeezing shut as another contraction rolled through. Her breathing went measured this time, practiced. Thomas watched Lucas mirror her inhale without thinking. “You named your kids after fashion designers,” she finished.

“Of course, I did. Who else would we use?” Felix said like the answer was obvious. 

Noah scoffed. “Literally anything?” 

Felix stuck his tongue out. “Have your own baby then.” 

“Maybe we will,” Noah shot back, eyes going wide when they all turned to look at him in shock. His cheeks turned pink. “What? I said maybe.” When they continued to stare, he said, “It’s a figure of speech. Jeez.” 

Felix and Zane narrowed their eyes but Asa broke the tension. “So the only criteria is it has to start with A, yes?”

“Obviously,” Noah said. “We’re nothing if not aggressively on theme.”

“Okay,” Zane said thoughtfully. “Oh, what about Atlas?”

Noah frowned. “Like a map?” 

Zane rolled his eyes. “Like the Titan?”

August shrugged, then nodded. “I kind of like Atlas. Feels strong. Literary.”

Avi snorted. “Achilles is literary, too, but I wouldn’t want to have to go to school with that name either.”

Asa smirked. “Didn’t Atlas, like, hold up the world? Feels like too much pressure for a newborn.”

Zane huffed. “Fine. What about Apollo?”

Avi grimaced. “What’s your hardon with gods?”

“Also,” Noah added, “every Apollo I’ve ever met was either deeply pretentious or incredibly feral. No in-between.”

“How many Apollos could you have possibly met?” Zane asked.

Noah squinted, thinking. “Just two. But, if I’m being honest, one was a drug dealer so it could have been a street name.”

“I’ve never met a single person named Apollo,” Zane said. “And somehow you’ve met two?”

Noah grinned at him. “What can I say? I’m cultured.”

Cricket snorted, then winced, hands gripping her belly. She inhaled slowly through her nose, jaw tight, then exhaled through pursed lips until the tension eased.

“Hard pass on Apollo and Achilles,” she said once it passed.

“But not Atlas?” August asked.

Cricket shrugged. “I mean, I don’t hate it.”

“What about Axel?” Noah offered.

Cricket stared at him. “I am not naming my child after a car part.”

“Or a rockstar with a drug addiction,” August added.

“And bad plastic surgery,” Lucas said dryly.

“It’s edgy!” Noah protested.

“It’s cursed,” she countered.

Felix leaned forward, clearly delighted by this exercise. “Okay, okay… what about Alabama or Arizona?” 

“Why not just name the baby Arkansas or Alaska?” Noah added. 

Cricket laughed, breath hitching just slightly. Thomas clocked the way Lucas’s hand slid instinctively to her knee again, grounding them both. “See? This is helping already.”

Zane grinned. “What about Ace?”

“That’s a dog name,” Asa said flatly.

“So is Chance, and somehow people keep naming children that,” Zane shot back.

“It’s too close to Asa,” Cricket said, glancing at him. “No offense, but one of you is enough.”

Asa grinned. “Agreed. I’m one of a kind.”

Avi snapped his fingers. “Archie.”

“Like Bunker?” Lucas asked, wincing. “You want to name our kid after a racist?” 

Cricket frowned. “Wasn’t that the kid from Riverdale too? The redhead?”

“Yeah and Riverdale is based on the comics,” Noah said. “That’s kinda literary too?” 

“Meh,” Cricket said, waving a hand. 

“Alfie?” Felix tried.

“Sounds like a Victorian child dying of consumption,” Zane said.

“Ansel?” Asa offered.

“Too…nasal,” Lucas replied. 

“Quick lightning round,” Noah said. “Everyone sound off. Atticus, you first.”

“Adonis,” Atticus said without looking up from his phone.

Cricket pointed at Asa. “Go.”

“Aspen.”

She pointed at Felix. “You.”

“Armani.”

She looked at Thomas. “What about you?”

Thomas shrugged. “Alaric.”

“He already has a name.” 

Everyone turned to look at Allister, who had shifted from his spot. He laid on his stomach, watching them all with luminous eyes. 

“What did you say, baby?” Cricket asked softly. 

“He already has a name,” Allister said, voice hushed like it was a secret.

The room went quiet–not alarmed, just attentive. 

Lucas stilled, voice gentle as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Allister frowned, small brow furrowing. “The baby. He already has a name.”

Cricket blinked, then laughed gently. “He does?”

Thomas felt something settle in his chest, heavy and electric all at once. Lucas’s hand tightened just slightly on Cricket’s knee, glancing at August with something that looked a lot like concern. 

Allister nodded. 

Silence fell, not the awkward kind, but the kind that felt charged.

Cricket spoke first. “Come here, baby.”

Allister hesitated, then pushed himself up, fingers slipping into his mouth as he crossed the room. His shoulders were tense, like he was bracing for something. 

Lucas and August moved closer. 

Lucas crouched in front of him, lowering himself to eye level. “What do you mean he has a name?”

Allister sucked on his fingers, eyes darting briefly to Cricket, then to the bed, then back to Lucas. He shrugged. 

Thomas felt something twist in his chest. The boy carried too much for someone so small.

“You’re not in trouble,” Cricket assured him quickly, combing her fingers through his soft baby hair. “We’re just curious what you mean.”

“When I see him, he already has a name.”

Cricket exhaled slowly, one hand drifting to her belly as another contraction began to build. She closed her eyes, breathing through it, while Lucas stayed exactly where he was, even as he held Allister’s gaze.

“When you see him?” August prodded gently.

Allister nodded. “I see him all the time. When I see him, we’re all playing together. We’re older then. But he has a name and it’s not any of those.”

“Oh,” Lucas said.

Allister’s little eyes drifted upwards and to the right like he was recalling something. “Mommy calls him Apple.” 

Zane snorted. “There’s no way Cricket would Gwenyth her kid.” 

“Or that August and Lucas would agree to it,” Noah added.

“That’s not his name, it's his nickname,” Allister said, sounding embarrassed at having so many eyes on him. “His name is–” He looked at the others, then leaned in and put his lips to Lucas’s ear, whispering. 

Lucas sucked in a breath. “Oh. Yeah. Actually, that does sound…right?” 

The room felt like it tilted, just slightly. Lucas whispered to August, then Cricket, who both seemed to contemplate it, then nodded. 

“Well, what is it?” Noah asked. “What’s his name?” 

Cricket looked at August and Lucas, then the others. “I’ll tell you after he’s here and I can confirm it.” 

“Is he saying he’s seen the future?” Felix asked quietly, his voice stripped of its usual humor.

Cricket continued to comb her fingers through Allister’s hair, slow and steady, like she was afraid to stop touching him. “You see the new baby? Like in your dreams?”

Allister nodded again. “He has hair like me and eyes like Mommy and a red mark right here.”

He lifted one small finger and pressed it to his temple.

“A red mark?” Lucas asked softly. “Like a birthmark? Like this?”

He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the small strawberry mark Thomas had somehow never noticed before, unremarkable, easily overlooked, the kind of thing you didn’t see until someone pointed it out.

Allister nodded. “But his looks different. Bigger. Like an apple.” He paused, then added, very matter-of-fact, “That’s what Mommy calls him Apple.”

“Apple…” Cricket echoed, one hand drifting instinctively to her belly. 

Her breath stuttered as another contraction rolled through, sharper this time, her fingers curling into the sheets as she waited it out.

“So it’s like a nickname?” Noah asked gently.

Allister nodded. “He sees things… like me.”

The room went very quiet.

Cricket’s eyes filled with tears as she looked from Lucas to August, emotion flickering across her face too fast for Thomas to name, fear, awe, something like relief. 

“Am I in trouble?” Allister asked suddenly, eyes wide, fingers hovering near his mouth again.

Lucas was there instantly, cupping his face. “Of course not. Why would you be in trouble?” His voice softened. “But why didn’t you tell us you were seeing these things?”

“You didn’t know?” Zane asked.

“We knew he got impressions like Lucas,” August said slowly, “and that he has nightmares, but not that he could… see more than that.” His voice trailed off, the weight of it settling on him.

Thomas watched August’s expression carefully. It was clear he was struggling, not with believing Allister, but that he had somehow missed something so huge. He understood Lucas’s gifts, understood that as a scientist there was still so much about the universe they just didn’t know. But knowing his husband and child picked up impressions from objects was not the same thing as learning your child had seen glimpses of the future. 

Thomas had no doubt Allister was telling the truth. The boy didn’t know how to lie, not about things like this. Not about things that felt this heavy. He knew that nobody in this house doubted his words. It didn’t make them any lighter.

“Dude,” Avi said, breaking the tension like only he could. “Hurry up and pop out this baby so we can see if he has the birthmark.”

Cricket rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “I’ll get right on that.”

A ripple of soft laughter moved through the room, easing something tight in Thomas’s chest. He felt it then, the same feeling he got every time he looked at them all together. The quiet certainty that this was something rare. Something real.

“Everyone get out,” Atticus said. “I need to do a quick check and I'm sure Cricket doesn't want an audience. Give us ten minutes.” 

Before Thomas could say anything, arms wrapped around him from behind.

Thomas stiffened just a fraction before melting into the familiar weight, the heat, the solidity of Aiden pressed against his back.

“I’m stealing you,” Aiden murmured, lips brushing his ear.

Thomas let himself be pulled backward, fingers lacing with Aiden’s as he guided him to their bedroom, leading him inside. The door closed softly behind them, muting the world to a distant hum.

“What are you doing?” Thomas murmured, even as his body leaned instinctively into the press of Aiden’s chest.

“Spending time with my husband,” Aiden said, mouth finding his.

Thomas let himself be kissed, his tongue sliding over Aiden’s even as his arms wrapped around his neck. 

His whole body went slack, letting Aiden’s solid presence crush him against the door. His fingers played with the hair at Aiden’s nape. He’d clearly just taken a shower. His skin was still warm and the scent of his spicy shampoo and body wash was both familiar and comforting. 

Aiden kissed him the way he always did when he wanted Thomas to stop thinking and start feeling, slow at first, deliberate, mouth firm and warm, hands bracketing Thomas’s hips like he belonged exactly there. Thomas exhaled into the kiss as it became more heated, the tension bleeding out of him as their hands roamed and Aiden’s knee settled firmly between Thomas’s legs, making him groan.

Aiden’s thumb traced the hem of Thomas’s sweater, not lifting it, just teasing. “You good?” he asked softly against his mouth.

Thomas nodded, forehead resting briefly against Aiden’s. “I am.”

Aiden’s hand slid up under Thomas’s sweater, fingertips tracing up his sides as his lips found his in another slow, lazy kiss, thigh flexing in a way that had Thomas groaning into his mouth. 

Thomas’s hands tangled in Aiden’s hair, just needing something to steady him, to remind him that they had a house full of guests just outside the door. “What are you doing?” 

“Touching my husband,” Aiden said, his hands plunging down past Thomas’s waistband to grab his ass, rocking him closer, forcing his hardening cock to grind against his thigh until he gasped. “What are you doing?” he asked innocently, like he wasn’t scrambling Thomas’s brain.

“We don’t have time for this,” Thomas said even as he found his mouth again. “Cricket’s having a baby.” 

“She’s not having our baby,” Aiden reminded him, deepening the kiss once more, thigh flexing rhythmically in a way that had Thomas feeling a bit like a teen making out in his bedroom. 

“Still…” he said, half-heartedly. 

“Still what?” Aiden murmured, tearing his lips from Thomas’s to bite at the shell of his ear, tongue doing something clever that had Thomas’s hips bucking forward onto Aiden’s leg again. 

Aiden’s hands slid down the back of his pants once more, gripping his ass and forcing him into a rhythm that was quickly becoming addictive. 

“She’s gonna have that baby any minute now,” Thomas gasped. 

“Then you should probably hurry up and come,” Aiden chastised, nipping the skin of his throat. 

Thomas sucked in a sharp breath, heat pooling in his belly as Aiden’s mouth found his again, rough and demanding. 

The house felt very far away now. The music. The laughter. The weight of responsibility. All muted behind the solid press of Aiden’s body and the locked door at his back.

Every time Aiden flexed his thigh the sensation lit up his nerves like struck flint. He throbbed against him, pleasure thrumming hot under his skin. 

“Come on, Tommy,” Aiden encouraged. “I’m not letting you go until you come for me.” 

Thomas’s head thudded hard against the door as Aiden forced his body into a rhythm so good, he couldn’t fight it. He could only stand there, Aiden’s leg keeping him upright as he rode the waves of heat rolling over him with every press of his thigh.

“Come for me and I’ll let you go,” Aiden taunted. “I can feel how close you are. I know how much you love this. Come on…” 

Thomas’s eyes rolled behind his lids, mouth going slack, hips now rolling of their own accord. 

“That’s it. There you go,” Aiden coaxed into his ear. “Fuck, you’re so hot like this.” 

Aiden gripped his waist, increasing the pressure on Thomas’s already aching cock. He gasped into Aiden’s mouth as it found his again. This kiss was far deeper, much dirtier. Aiden no longer seemed content to help Thomas get off at his own pace. He was going to make it happen by doing all of the things that drove Thomas crazy. Aiden’s tongue fucking past his lips, Thomas’s cock grinding hard against his thigh, Aiden whispering dirty words between kisses. 

“Come on, Tommy. Come for me.” 

Thomas sucked in a sharp breath, hips jerking as he found his release, spilling into his underwear. 

Aiden pulled back, but didn’t release him. “See…you definitely needed that.” 

Thomas leaned heavy against the solid door, breathing hard as Aiden moved to the side drawer, grabbing wet wipes. Thomas flinched at the cold against his skin, but let Aiden do what he wanted. 

“Wasn’t that nice?” Aiden asked, giving him another kiss even as he stripped him of his underwear and pants. “And you almost refused.” 

“You’re very convincing,” Thomas murmured. 

Aiden smiled against his mouth. “I know.”

Aiden’s hands wandered again–never grabbing, never rushing–just mapping familiar ground. Over ribs, down hips, thumbs brushing teasingly beneath the hem of Thomas’s sweater before retreating again. Enough to promise. 

Thomas leaned into him, forehead dropping to Aiden’s shoulder once more. His body buzzed, not with urgency, but with contentment. 

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing together. 

Finally, Aiden said, “Stay here. I’ll get you some clothes.” 

Thomas didn’t fight it. Once he was dressed and looking as presentable as he was likely to get, he gave Aiden a chaste kiss. “I’ll take care of you later.” 

Aiden grinned. “I took care of myself in the shower.” 

Thomas gasped. “Rude.” 

From somewhere down the hall came a burst of laughter, then Cricket’s voice—sharp with pain, then softer as it eased. A reminder of why they were here. Why this mattered. 

“You love this,” Aiden said. “You love having all of them here under one roof. Even Jericho’s kids. You’re in your bliss right now.” 

He wasn’t wrong. These were his children. Whether they were fully grown adults or not, having them all under one roof, everyone he cared about, unknotted something within him, something he never even noticed until it disappeared. There was a peace he just couldn’t explain with any eloquence. 

“I love it when it’s just you, me and Theo, too,” he promised. “But I can’t help that having everyone here, safe with me, safe where I can see them, makes me feel…calmer.” 

Aiden pressed a kiss to Thomas’s temple. “We should probably go back.”

Thomas sighed, long and slow, but nodded. “Yeah. Before someone comes looking for us.”

Aiden smirked. “They’ll survive.”

He unlocked the door but didn’t open it yet, stealing one last kiss, quick, affectionate, full of promise.

“We’ll finish this later,” he murmured.

Thomas smiled, something soft and real settling in his chest. “Looking forward to it.”

And for just a few minutes, Thomas let himself stand still in the middle of it all—wanted, grounded, and not alone.

A sharp sound cut through the quiet. Not laughter this time. Not music. A voice–tight, strained, unmistakably Cricket’s–carried down the hall.

“Okay–okay, that one hurt,” she snapped, breathless. “That one definitely fucking hurt. Freckles, you need to get this baby out of me!”

Thomas felt it immediately. The shift in the house. Aiden straightened just enough to glance at the door, his expression changing–not alarmed, but alert. Ready.

Another voice followed. Atticus, calm but firm. “Alright, Cricket. It’s time to evict this little mooch.”

“Breathe, Cricket,” someone said, voice too muffled to identify. 

There was a pause. Then Cricket again, lower this time, edged with effort. “I am breathing.”

Thomas closed his eyes briefly.

Aiden squeezed his hips once, grounding. “That’s our cue.”

Thomas nodded, already stepping back, straightening his sweater, rolling his shoulders like armor settling back into place. The want lingered, warm and steady, but it no longer demanded his attention.

“Later,” Aiden said again, softer this time, but certain.

Thomas met his eyes. “Later.”

They unlocked the door together.

As it opened, the noise rushed back in. Life, chaos, family, urgency. And somewhere at the center of it all, a child on the way.