Neighbors - Part 10 (Patreon)

Suits and Loads

When Chris and Ryan returned to their respective homes after surviving the exhausting Preggo Swap week, both men briefly felt like they had things under control. That illusion didn’t last long, though. Their pregnancies pushed deeper into the final stretch, showing them that it wasn’t something they could manage easily without taking over every part of their lives.

Chris’s struggle started to get frustrating. His work demanded precision, focus, and long hours sitting or standing, but his body refused to cooperate. Mornings became small battles because getting dressed to look professional wasn’t easy anymore. He often stood in front of his closet, holding a dress shirt up to his chest, already knowing it wouldn’t fit but trying anyway. He would take a deep breath, wrap the fabric around his body, and begin working the buttons one by one. The first few buttons might close, but as he reached the middle, the fabric would strain visibly. He would pause, exhale, and try again, sucking in as if that might make a difference.

From the doorway, Renee would watch with a smile. “You’re fighting a losing battle there,” she would say casually.

Chris would look at her, slightly annoyed but trying to keep his composure. “It fits,” he insisted, even as the fabric stretched so tightly across his belly that the buttons looked ready to give up at any moment.

“Sure it does,” she replied, folding her arms. “As long as you don’t breathe, sit, or move.”

He would ignore her, finish buttoning the shirt, and grab his jacket to hide the evidence. The illusion rarely lasted long, though. At work, even sitting at his desk became uncomfortable. His belly pressed against the edge of the table, forcing him to lean back, which in turn strained his lower back. Meetings became endurance tests since sitting too long made his hips ache, and standing too long made his feet throb. He tried all day to find comfortable positions, but it was impossible at this point.

One afternoon, during a long meeting, he changed position in his chair and slipped one shoe off under the table, flexing his foot in relief. By the time the meeting ended, both feet felt swollen and heavy. When he finally stood, he had to pause for a second, steadying himself before walking out, hoping nobody noticed—but everybody did.

“Long day?” One coworker joked as Chris walked past, adjusting his jacket again.

“Something like that,” Chris replied, forcing a smile.

The teasing about his clothes only grew worse. One day, as he reached up to grab a file, there was a faint but unmistakable sound of a thread pulling tight as one of the babies stretched.

“Careful,” someone said from across the room. “We’re gonna need safety goggles if those buttons start flying.”

Chris laughed along, but his hand moved instinctively to his belly, rubbing it as if trying to calm himself and the twins.

At night, things didn’t get easier as sleep was fragmented and unreliable. He would lie on his side, then his back, then the other side, adjusting pillows, shifting blankets, and trying to find a position that didn’t put pressure somewhere. The twins seemed most active when their dad wanted to sleep, rolling and kicking so much that they made him groan into the pillow.

“You okay?” Renee would ask in the dark.

“Yeah,” he would whisper. “They’re having a party like every night.”

Meanwhile, Ryan’s situation was getting even worse, touching every single part of his daily life. He felt like his body had taken control entirely. His appetite was almost impossible to manage. He would eat a full meal and still feel hungry minutes later. His stomach growled loudly enough that Josh and Jeremy would look at him with wide eyes.

Simple tasks were exhausting challenges at this point. One morning, Ryan stood in the hallway trying to put his shoes on, lifting one foot slightly before giving up and leaning against the wall. His belly got in the way, forcing him to bend awkwardly, and after a few seconds, he just stopped and sighed.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, almost breathless.

Tammy smirked, watching from the doorway. “Need help?”

Ryan rolled his eyes but didn’t argue when she approached and helped him.

Walking up stairs left him breathing heavier than before, and standing for long periods made his back ache intensely. He developed the habit of placing one hand on the small of his back, rocking slightly back and forth when the pressure became too much. The sextuplets moved constantly, making his entire belly shake visibly under his shirt.

At work, even in the office, concentration was difficult. Ryan would be halfway through a task when a sudden movement inside him made him pause and grab the edge of the desk.

“You good?” one of the guys asked one afternoon.

Ryan forced a grin. “Yeah. Just pulled something.”

The man laughed. “Yeah, looks like you’ve been pulling a lot lately.”

The jokes kept coming, but Ryan felt something different underneath them. People were starting to notice that something wasn’t normal. But he kept going, one day at a time.

By the time April came, Chris had reached a point where ignoring his body wasn’t an option anymore. Every morning, he had to fight against his closet, and every workday was a test of how long he could pretend everything still fit the way it used to.

So, on April 11, Renee grabbed Rory’s stroller and looked at Chris. “We’re going shopping,” she announced.

Chris looked up from the couch, softly caressing his belly. “For what?” He asked, ready to argue even though he knew it was pointless.

Renee chuckled. “For clothes that actually fit you.”

He tried to brush it off, but they were at the department store less than an hour later, staring at a section labeled big and tall. The words alone hit his pride harder than he expected. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and pulling a shirt from the rack, holding it up in front of him as if trying to convince himself it was unnecessary.

“This is ridiculous,” he said firmly. “I still fit into regular clothes.”

Renee didn’t even try to hide her laugh. “Try it on,” she said.

The fitting room turned into a stage for a series of increasingly humbling realizations. The first shirt didn’t even come close. Chris barely managed to get it around his torso before stopping, staring down at the gap where the buttons refused to meet. The second attempt was more promising—at least at first. He managed to button it all the way up, but when he looked in the mirror, the result made him pause. The fabric stretched tightly across his belly as the buttons pulled so hard that they looked like they might pop with a deep breath.

He stepped out to show Renee, trying to stand as straight as possible. “It fits,” he said, though his tone lacked confidence.

Renee took one look at him and bit back a laugh. “Chris,” she said, stepping closer, “that doesn’t fit. It looks painted on, and I don’t think those buttons would survive if you inhale.”

He looked down at himself, taking a breath in, and the fabric pulled even tighter across his middle. “It’s fine,” he insisted.

“It’s begging for mercy,” she corrected. “It’s a no.”

The next shirt solved one problem and created another. It buttoned more easily, but when Chris lifted his arms to adjust the collar, the entire hem rode up, exposing the lower part of his belly. “It’s not a big deal, right?”

Renee raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, that’s perfect. Very professional.”

Chris dropped his arms, tugging the shirt back down with a sigh. “Okay, not this one.”

As Rory babbled happily from the stroller, entertained by the constant movement and voices, Chris went back in and tried again. Each new combination brought a different level of failure, and each time, Renee’s commentary became more playful, as if enjoying the scene far more than she should.

The moment that really stopped him came when he tried on a thinner shirt that fit his belly reasonably well. For a second, Chris actually thought he had found something that worked—until he looked closer at his reflection.

He froze, and his expression changed as his eyes moved upward. “Hell, no.”

“What?” Renee asked as she stepped closer to the fitting room entrance.

Chris hesitated, then walked outside and gestured toward his chest.

Renee couldn’t stop the smirk spreading on her lips. “Oh wow,” she said. “That’s new.”

Chris looked back at the mirror, blushing immediately. The thin fabric didn’t hide anything. His chest wasn’t only a little fuller—it had a rounded shape, pushing against the shirt far too much. The shape was enough to make him stiffen, but what really got to him was how the fabric reacted over his nipples. They pressed forward, creating unmistakable protrusions that pushed against the shirt like thumbs from underneath.

He instinctively straightened his posture, hunched slightly, then straightened again, trying to adjust his stance to make it less obvious—but nothing changed. The shirt outlined everything, making it clear that his formerly broad pecs were no longer there.

Renee crossed her arms, still smiling. “You know,” she said, “there are solutions for that.”

Chris turned his head slowly. “Don’t even say it.”

“Bras exist,” she added anyway, ignoring him.

He stared at her as she had just suggested something absurd. “Not happening.”

She laughed openly. “You might want to reconsider that.”

Chris turned back to the mirror, taking a deep breath. After a long moment, he exhaled. “I’ll get thicker undershirts,” he said, avoiding the most practical solution.

Renee rolled her eyes, smirking and leaving him alone again.

They continued like that for a while, Chris going in and out of the fitting room, each time trying to find something that allowed him to feel at least somewhat in control. In the end, his solution was thicker undershirts, darker dress shirts, and looser jackets. None of it hid anything, but it gave him enough confidence to believe he could still walk into court and look like himself.

Throughout the entire trip, Renee became increasingly comfortable with the situation, so she often rested her hand on his belly as they walked between sections. She absentmindedly rubbed the pregnant middle as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Each time, Chris felt his face heat up, aware of the looks they were starting to attract.

“Stop,” he whispered at one point, trying not to draw attention.

“What?” she asked slowly.

“People are staring,” he replied, barely audible.

Renee didn’t even look around. “Let them,” she responded with a smile.

People were staring—not openly, but not hiding either. There was something about the scene that didn’t add up for strangers, something that made them look twice, trying to understand what they were seeing as Renee caressed Chris’s pregnant belly. Still, by the time they left the store, Chris was carrying several bags and a different understanding of how much his body had changed. The new clothes didn’t solve the problem, but worked well enough.

Back at work, the pressure increased as the hearing was getting closer. The case demanded more attention than ever, and Chris tried to keep up the same pace he always had, but his body refused to cooperate. After nights spent waking every other hour to use the bathroom or change positions because the twins wouldn’t settle, he would arrive at the office already exhausted.

He adapted where he could. Snacks were everywhere—crackers, protein bars, anything easy to grab—because he learned that going too long without eating left him uncomfortable and distracted. There were moments when he would be reading through documents and suddenly pause when one of the babies kicked. He tried to hide it, but the pauses added up.

Meetings were another challenge. Sitting for too long made Chris’s lower back ache and his hips stiffen, but standing wasn’t any better. During presentations, he would start strong, but within minutes, his feet would begin to throb. He would shift his weight from one foot to the other, then lean slightly, hoping the movement looked natural rather than necessary.

His managing partner noticed it all. Chris could feel it in the way the man watched him during meetings. Still, he didn’t say anything at first. However, a few days before the hearing, Chris was asked to step into his boss’s office. The request wasn’t unusual, but the tone was different, leaving little room for interpretation.

The conversation was brief. Chris’s boss didn’t circle the issue or ask for explanations. Instead, he went straight to the point, speaking in the same controlled tone he used in court. “Once this hearing is over,” he said, “you’re taking leave.”

Chris blinked, caught off guard by how direct it was. “I can manage,” he started, pushing back even though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

“No,” the man said firmly. “You can’t.”

There was no judgment in his voice, only a statement of fact. That made it harder to argue with. Chris hesitated as his hand moved to rest on his belly.

“Two months,” his boss continued. “After that, we’ll ease you back in. Work from home, lighter schedule. We’ll adjust as needed. I’ll manage the paperwork for it.”

Chris didn’t have the energy to fight it. He leaned back slightly in his chair, feeling a part of him shattering into pieces. “Okay,” he said, defeated by his condition.

For the first time in weeks, he stopped pretending that he had everything under control. Sitting there, with his boss watching him not as an employee to push but as someone who needed to slow down, Chris finally acknowledged what his body had been telling him for a while. He was struggling, and no amount of determination could change that.

Meanwhile, Ryan’s final weeks at work were difficult. By that point, it was impossible to ignore that something was happening to him. His body had grown far beyond anything that could be brushed off as weight gain. His belly stretched tight and heavy under every shirt he owned, always visible no matter how he adjusted the fabric. His ass and tits had ballooned even more, and he always had a hand on his lower back while groaning, making it obvious to anyone paying attention that something serious was going on.

The crew had joked about it for weeks, but eventually even the jokes started to feel like they were circling a truth nobody wanted to say out loud.

However, one morning, Ryan walked into the site office and immediately noticed something was off. The place was louder than usual, full of laughter and a burst of energy that made him pause at the door. For a second, he thought there had been an accident or announcement, but then he saw the bright plastic decorations hanging on the walls, taped up without much care. A banner stretched across the back wall, clearly handmade, with uneven letters that read, “CONGRATS ON THE HALF-DOZEN APPRENTICES.”

Ryan blinked, caught off guard as his eyes moved from the decorations to the banner and then back to the group of men watching him. “What the hell…?” he whispered, instinctively reaching down to caress his massive belly.

His boss approached, looking like he knew the moment wasn’t going to go over smoothly. “Alright, before you say anything,” he said shyly, “yeah, I told them.”

Ryan stared at him, turning pale and dizzy. “You what?”

“Look at you,” the boss replied, gesturing toward Ryan’s body. “There was no way to keep pretending this was just extra lunch. They were gonna figure it out one way or another.”

The words were enough to break whatever tension had been hanging in the room. The crew started laughing, but it felt different than before. It wasn’t mockery; it was pure joy.

“Took you long enough to admit it!” One of the guys shouted from the back.

“Six babies, man,” another added, shaking his head like he still couldn’t believe it. “That’s not a surprise; that’s a full production schedule.”

Ryan blushed, rubbing his belly, unable to stop the smile spreading on his lips. He tried to come up with something to say, anything to push back, but before he could get a word out, someone clapped loudly, cutting through the moment.

“Alright, alright!” another worker called out. “Baby shower time!”

As Ryan walked into the room, the whole place burst into celebration. Ryan was the center of it all as comments came from every direction, making him feel cared for and supported instead of laughed at.

“First foreman in company history to need maternity leave,” someone said, shaking his head like he was announcing a record.

“Boss, we gotta update the handbook on it,” another added. “Section one: don’t get pregnant on the job.”

Ryan snorted despite himself, shaking his head, already losing the battle to stay serious. “That’s a warning I should’ve appreciated.”

“Nah,” someone replied immediately, “what’s unbelievable is you. Six kids at once? Who did you hire for that job?”

“You’d better send that guy an invoice,” another voice added from somewhere behind him. “That’s overtime right there.”

Ryan laughed, a little breathless as his hand kept moving over his belly. “Trust me,” he said calmly, looking down at the size of his middle, “he knows what he did.”

That only made the laughter louder.

As Ryan looked around, he noticed how the crew had committed to the theme. Tiny toy hard hats were scattered across the table next to baby bottles. Someone had hung miniature safety vests over the backs of chairs like decorations. There were even small tool belts laid out carefully, like they had put actual thought into it.

“Alright. Let’s play some games,” someone announced, holding up a measuring tape like it was official business. “We’re taking bets. Circumference.”

Ryan stepped back, holding his belly with both hands. “Oh no, absolutely not.”

“Too late,” the guy said, already stepping closer. “Scientific measurement.”

“Back off,” Ryan laughed, but he didn’t really fight it when they carefully wrapped the tape around him. He sucked in, out of habit, then stopped when the pressure made the babies move sharply inside him. “Oh, come on,” he said as an involuntary gasp came out of his lips.

“Don’t cheat,” someone warned, pointing at him.

“I’m not cheating,” Ryan said, exhaling slowly this time, letting the tape settle against the roundest part of his belly.

Numbers started flying immediately as guys argued over inches like it actually mattered, placing bets, laughing, and shoving each other as they compared guesses.

Then came the snack challenge, and it might have been the easiest one for Ryan.

“15 minutes,” a guy said, dropping a pile of food in front of him. “We’ve seen you emptying plates like a vacuum, but let’s see how much you can eat.”

Ryan looked at it, then down at his belly, which responded with a low growl right on cue. The room exploded with laughter.

He rolled his shoulders, carefully settling himself into a chair. “Alright, fine,” he said. “But if I win, you all shut up for a week.”

“Not happening,” someone answered.

He didn’t win the silence but didn’t lose the challenge. By the end of it, he was leaning back, breathing heavier, and groaning as his belly felt even tighter than before. The skin stretched taut from the babies and everything he had just eaten. “Ugh,” he breathed out, laughing weakly. “I’m gonna explode.”

“We’re all taking bets on that,” someone called out.

As the day went on, something started to change. The jokes didn’t stop, but they softened slightly, as if something else was coming. Then the gifts appeared—boxes of diapers, packs of baby clothes, bottles, blankets, small toys, and gift cards tucked into envelopes. Every gift was practical, something he knew he was going to need.

“You guys—” he started, but the words didn’t come out right as his throat tightened and tears gathered in his eyes. “Damn, hormones.”

His boss stepped forward again, clearing his throat. “Look,” he said, looking at Ryan’s eyes at first, “you’ve been with us a long time. You show up, you do the work, you don’t complain, even while pregnant. That matters.”

Ryan swallowed hard, openly crying.

“We don’t know what the hell this is,” the boss continued, gesturing at the pregnant belly, “but we know you’re gonna need help. So, this is what we can do.”

Ryan stood there for a second, processing the words. “Thank you,” he finally said.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t get all emotional on us now,” the guy teased, clearly touched by Ryan’s reaction.

By the time everything was packed into his truck, it felt like too much—boxes stacked high, bags filled with supplies, more than he ever expected from a group of guys who spent most of their time giving each other a hard time.

When he got home, Tammy was waiting for him on the porch, getting curious the second she saw the truck. “What did you do?” she asked, crossing her arms, “rob a baby store?”

Ryan laughed as he got out. “Something like that. The crew threw me a baby shower.”

Josh and Jeremy didn’t even wait. They ran straight to the truck, climbing up to look inside. “Whoa!” Josh shouted. “Is all this for the babies?”

“All six of them,” Ryan said, smiling as he watched them dig through everything.

Jeremy held up a tiny onesie, stretching it between his hands. “This is so small!”

“They’re gonna be small at first,” Ryan said, looking at his massive belly. “Kind of.”

Tammy approached, looking into the truck, then back at him, smiling softly. She didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Ryan as much as his belly allowed, kissing his cheek. “You deserve it,” she said. “Carrying six babies and still working like that? Yeah. You deserve to be spoiled.”

Ryan let out a slow breath, caressing his belly and feeling the babies move. He couldn’t help but smile, but at the same time, seeing all the baby supplies made him realize that the babies would be here soon, and they would need him even more.

...

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PS: Thanks to my dear friend woodywood101 for helping me with the plot for this story and provide the pics for it. Please, go check out his Patreon content. You'll love it!