Wrong ETA (Patreon)

John hated this jet. He had been on it countless times before, and even though he had enjoyed the luxury it offered compared to commercial flights, it felt impossibly small now. The leather seat pressed into him at all the wrong angles, the armrests dug into his sides, and no matter how he moved, there was no way to get in a comfortable position—not with his full-term-with-triplets pregnant belly in the way.

The rounded middle was massive and heavy, resting on his lap and straining the fabric of his tailored clothes to the limit. His pants were barely holding on around his rounded hips, fat ass, and thickened thighs. And his shoes squeezed his swollen feet so much that his toes were numb. Every movement felt restricted, and every breath slightly tighter than the last. 

He wasn’t supposed to be flying—even less in this specific jet—but he had to.

Four weeks into what should have been a peaceful paternity leave, John had gotten an unexpected call. His boss hadn’t even tried to soften the order for him to fly overseas to seal a deal. This contract was too important and valuable, and John was the only one who could close it. He had spent nearly a year building that relationship, negotiating every detail, and shaping it to bring in millions. There was no one else, so John had gone, despite how pregnant he was.

His tailor had worked miracles, adjusting his suit to accommodate his thickened body without sacrificing professionalism. John had been careful with the tiniest details, and it had worked. The meeting had gone flawlessly—signatures exchanged, hands shaken, and smiles all around. It had been a success beyond expectations, and he should have been celebrating.

Instead, John was trapped in a seat that felt designed for someone half his size, flying home with a belly that tightened under his hand, telling him something was wrong.

The first contraction had hit him during the meeting. It had been subtle enough that he could hide it, brushing it off as discomfort and forcing himself to stay focused. People had stared at him whenever he groaned softly, but within seconds, he had regained composure.

His doctor had been clear days ago when John mentioned the unexpected business trip, explaining that the babies still weren’t in position and he easily had another week before labor started. Those words sounded like a lie now as the triplets moved restlessly inside him.

John slipped off his shoes, flexing his toes against the floor as he tried to find some kind of comfort, but it didn’t help—nothing helped. The cabin felt smaller by the minute, as if the walls were closing every time the babies moved inside him. He rubbed slow circles over the taut surface, trying to soothe the triplets—or maybe himself.

They still had two more hours before landing, according to the flight’s ETA. He convinced himself that there was no way he was giving birth on the plane because labor took time, hours even. The thought alone made his pregnant belly twist, but he couldn’t tell if the sensation was due to anxiety or another contraction. Still, he took a deep breath and tried to remain calm.

A few minutes later, the illusion shattered.

The next contraction crashed into him violently and unstoppably. A raw cry tore from his throat before he could even think to hold it back. His entire body tensed, and every muscle went rigid as he lurched forward, digging his fingers into the seat. The pain was suffocating, flooding through his belly and back in such a crushing way that it made his vision blur. It stole the air out of his lungs, forced his chest to stutter and gasp, and left him shaking so badly he could barely stay upright as he tried—desperately—to ride it out.

The contraction felt endless, and when it finally loosened its grip, it only faded enough to let him breathe again. He collapsed back against the seat. His whole body was weak and overstimulated, but something was different now. Something felt heavier and lower—wrong, but he couldn’t tell what it was. The weight in his belly had dropped, pressing down into his hips and causing immense discomfort.

John swallowed hard and tried to move, thinking maybe he just needed the bathroom, maybe he could resolve the issue, control it—but the second he pushed himself up, he felt warmth spread between his legs. He froze instantly, and his heart beat faster against his ribs as he looked down in shock. Liquid was spilling out, dripping fast, and pooling across the floor beneath him, soaking into his shoes and spreading wider with every second.

His brain lagged, refusing to process what he was seeing even as his body already knew. “No…” The word barely made it out before he finally realized what had just happened: his water had broken.

A sharp, panicked breath broke from his chest as his hands flew to his belly, clutching it tightly as if trying to hold everything inside. “No—no, no, no…” he kept repeating as the panic overtook the logic he had tried to write into his mind. “This cannot be happening.”

He tried to calm down, reasoning that labor still took time. Even with his water broken, he had hours—he had to have hours, enough time to land and get to a hospital.

But the contractions hit him without breaks—closer and stronger by the minute. He breathed through them as best he could, rubbing his belly and whispering under his breath as if the babies could hear him and might somehow wait a little longer.

Then, the cockpit door opened suddenly, and the captain, Gavin, came out looking concerned. The man was tall and broad, wearing his dark pilot uniform that somehow always fit him perfectly despite the long hours. His dark brown hair looked slightly messy from the flight, and his deep blue eyes immediately locked onto John.

“Oh, shit.” The curse came out breathless as Gavin took in the scene before him: John bent forward in the seat, the enormous belly visibly tightening beneath stretched fabric, water spread across the floor, and pain written across his face. “That’s—that’s not good,” he added.

“No,” John replied weakly, trying to laugh but failing as he was terrified, “it’s really not.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, as memories replayed in both their minds. They had spent countless hours in this jet, crossing oceans and time zones while Gavin sat behind the cockpit door with his impossible calm. Somewhere between the late-night flights, long conversations, and moments when their eyes met for a second longer than necessary, a bond had formed between John and Gavin.

However, John had gotten pregnant from a one-night stand with another man, and everything between him and the captain had become a little more complicated. John had almost canceled when he realized which jet the company had assigned for the trip. But somehow, the fact that Gavin was there made John feel a bit better despite the pain.

Another contraction hit before John could say anything else, cutting him off with a strained groan as he doubled forward again. The pressure inside him was impossible to ignore, pushing downward with such force that he feared his hips might snap.

“Hey, calm down,” Gavin said, kneeling beside John and holding his hand.

The touch felt instinctively familiar. Gavin had always been casually physical with John during flights—a hand on his shoulder after turbulence, brushing his fingers against his arm while leaning over the seat, or small things John had probably overthought far too many times. The pregnant man couldn’t deny that Gavin’s hand, which wrapped around his, felt like it belonged there. That realization hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

Half an hour passed, and all John could do was groan, squirm, and beg the babies to stay inside him a while longer. At some point, Gavin had moved even closer without John noticing. He was still holding John’s hand, while the other rested gently on the massive pregnant belly, talking him through contractions in a calm voice that somehow gave John a brief moment of peace despite everything happening around them.

John hated how comforting the touch felt. Things between them had become complicated months ago, but none of that seemed to matter anymore when Gavin’s hand stayed wrapped tightly around his through every contraction.

The pain kept coming faster and harder, stacking on top of itself until there was no real break anymore—only waves crashing into waves, blending into the next. John couldn’t even tell when one contraction ended and another began. His belly went rock hard as the pressure built, suffocating and dragging low inside him.

It wasn’t only the pain anymore, but also the massive pressure crushing his hips from inside. He felt one of the babies forcing his way down, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“I—I think…” he choked out, clawing his fingers into the seat so hard his knuckles ached. “I think one of them is coming—” Another contraction slammed through him before he could finish, ripping a louder, more desperate groan out of him as his whole body trembled.

Gavin looked pale—completely overwhelmed—but he knew John needed help.

The pregnant man barely registered being helped down, slowly moving his heavy and uncooperative body onto the floor. Gavin carefully helped him out of the ruined clothes, trying very hard not to stare. John’s body looked overwhelming up close—giant belly trembling with contractions, flushed skin damp with sweat, and thick thighs forced apart by the pressure building inside him. It was impossible not to stare in shock.

Meanwhile, John could barely focus on what was happening because the pressure was too intense—unbearable, stretching his hips and forcing them apart as the first baby positioned himself to start coming out.

He tried to hold it back, but it was impossible. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to push, drowning out every rational thought he had left. “This—this isn’t happening—” he gasped, shaking his head weakly as panic showed in every word he said.

“It is,” Gavin said calmly. “You have to push, okay? Just listen to your body—” The words should have sounded ridiculous coming from a pilot with no medical training. But John listened because it was Gavin, and somehow the man always sounded like he knew what to do even when the world around them was falling apart.

John still didn’t feel ready—not even close. He felt terrified, out of control, completely unprepared for how intense the situation was, but his body didn’t care.

The next contraction hit like an explosion inside him, and the pressure spiked so sharply it forced a broken, desperate cry out of his throat as he finally gave in and pushed.

He couldn’t even process the burning, the stretching, and the pain. It was too much all at once. It felt like his body was being forced open from the inside, as if something huge was pressing through him inch by inch, and it made his entire body shake. His hands scrambled for anything to hold onto, gripping tight as he followed Gavin’s instructions through gasps and cries, barely able to think or breathe.

It hurt so much it blurred everything else out. Each push felt like it lasted forever as the stretch got worse instead of better. John’s body resisted and gave in at the same time. He could feel the baby moving lower, stretching his canal wider with each push. The pressure turned sharp, almost burning, making him cry out louder, more openly, unable to hold back anymore.

“I can’t—I can’t—” John choked as tears blurred his vision. But the next contraction hit before he could even try to stop.

“Yes, you can—keep going!” Gavin said firmly, holding John’s hand so tightly their fingers almost hurt. “You’ve got this, John.”

John gathered the little strength he had and kept going. Each push drained him more, leaving him shaking harder, and his breath came in ragged gasps as his whole body strained. The pressure worsened until suddenly it shifted. The stretch peaked so intensely it made him cry out again, louder than before—and then, all at once, the pressure broke.

Relief flooded through him so suddenly that it almost made him dizzy. The baby was out.

The sharp sound of a newborn crying filled the cabin, cutting through the chaos and giving John hope that he could somehow manage the situation. His body sagged instantly, completely spent, struggling to catch his breath, but at least the baby was out of him.

John’s arms trembled as he reached out, taking the baby carefully, holding him close against his chest. For a moment—a tiny moment—everything else faded. The pain, the panic, and the chaos disappeared as he looked at the crying life in his arms.

Before John could even process it properly, Gavin was already beside him. “You did it,” he said breathlessly, sounding almost stunned.

John looked up weakly and realized Gavin’s hands were shaking too.

Then, another contraction came, ripping a groan from his throat as his belly tightened again, reminding him—harshly—that he wasn’t done. There were still two more babies in line.

By the time the second baby was crowning, he was barely holding himself together. His whole body felt wrecked, overstretched, and shaking, and every muscle was sore and exhausted. But the contractions didn’t slow down. If anything, they came faster, pushing him forward whether he could handle it or not.

Gavin had to return to the cockpit because they were close to the airport, but neither of them seemed to like the idea of Gavin leaving. John’s exhausted fingers tightened around his sleeve before he could stop himself.

For a second, Gavin just stared at him. “I’ll be right back,” Gavin promised.

John had to deal with the contractions on his own while holding his first baby tightly against his chest. Having Gavin there for the first birth had helped him a lot, but he understood that he had to manage on his own while the other man took them safely onto land. Without Gavin nearby, the cabin suddenly felt colder and much too large despite how cramped it actually was. John hated how quickly he had gotten used to hearing that calm voice beside him.

The stretch came back just as intense. John’s body was already sensitive and strained, which made everything feel sharper and harder to endure. He cried out again, louder, and more desperate, unable to hold anything back as he pushed through it, gripping the floor and shouting so loud that it seemed to make the whole plane tremble.

It took everything he had left, but eventually, the second baby came out, and he barely managed to catch him. His hands were shaking, and he was drenched in sweat as he pulled the newborn close to his chest.

The jet began its descent, but he barely registered it as another contraction hit—stronger than the last. The third baby was coming in a rush. He barely had time to react before his body took over again, pushing hard and fast in a way that made it impossible to resist. The pressure made him cry out as his body stretched beyond what felt like its limit.

The third baby came quicker and harder, giving him no chance to prepare as his body worked on its own, pushing with a strength that left him shaking and breathless. And then, it was over. The final baby slipped free just as the jet came to a stop, and his body finally released the last bit of that unbearable pressure.

Voices rushed in around him immediately as paramedics entered the cabin. Their hands moved quickly, taking control of everything he no longer had the strength to manage. He barely registered it, but in the middle of the chaos flooding the cabin, John saw Gavin.

The pilot stood just beyond the paramedics, and his blue eyes stayed locked on John with open relief written all over his face. Then Gavin smiled, and John melted. Despite the pain still wrecking his body and the exhaustion dragging on every muscle, John felt something warm spread through his chest, so suddenly it almost hurt because Gavin was still there.

...

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PS: Hey everyone! This is a new version of an old story I posted a few years ago. I'll probably post a tiny sequel for it. ENJOY!