College Omega’s Secret Baby

By Dex Bass

Book 1 of the series MPreg College 

Copyright 2017 Dex Bass 

Subscribe to Dex’s Baby Bump Bulletin:

http://eepurl.com/c2UORX

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Epilogue

Author’s Afterword

One

“I’m Professor Alan Archer.” It was the start of another quarter, and another bunch of clueless undergraduate charges in front of him. “This is Human Reproduction 101. Prepare to be bamboozled.”

Alan stood tall and looked across the room. A hundred or so faces. A few cute young omegas stood out among them, but Alan knew not to look. He had to be professional. And anyway, freshman omegas were cute to look at, but their attractiveness ended with their looks. Alan knew he could never engage one of those twinky omegas in any serious conversation. Still, they were his students, and he’d have to teach them, at least for that quarter.

Teaching undergraduates was like wiping your ass: nobody liked it, but everybody had to do it. Human Reproduction 101 was Alan’s ass-wiping exercise for the year, where he’d reconnect with the undergraduate population. Undergrads were never too smart, but at least they did always fawn over him: his smarts, his academic fame, and most obviously, his looks.

He was the famous Alan Archer. He couldn’t deny it. He enjoyed their attention. Springville State wasn’t Harvard, but so what? He didn’t always have to live up to the Archer family name.

It wasn’t just for his academic accomplishments that the university always chose Alan to appear on their admissions website. Alan could’ve moonlighted as a model, and he knew it. His looks were enough to bring starry-eyed omega students through the university’s doors. Of course they knew they had no chance with the actual Alan Archer. But fangirls knew they had no chance with Justin Bieber, and they still lined up to see him and dream about him, didn’t him? As far as the world’s young omega men were concerned, Professor Alan Archer was the Justin Bieber of Springville State University.

Sure, his parents wanted him to teach at a famous place, a more prestigious place. But he liked being a big fish in the Springville pond. And he liked Springville.

As Alan spoke that Monday morning, his students were about as unresponsive as always. They’d all been enthusiastic to get into his class, but once there, they seemed to have lost all interest. Every year they seemed more catatonic. The joke about being bamboozled had barely registered. Their faces were in their smartphones. A bright blue stripe defiantly shone took the top of each phone’s screen. The students’ eyes had all taken on an unnatural Facebook-blue tint. Those blue stripes definitely weren’t a textbook or scientific journal.

A hand went up. Second row, to the side, a slightly acne-ridden freshman. Glasses. A mousy male specimen, a mouse of the kind whose stem cells you’d replicate in the lab in hopes of producing some kind of hardier animal. His mouse-colored gray eyes were mouse-quickly scanning the room.

Alan pointed at the raised hand. “Yeah? And tell me your name please also.” Alan talked down, literally, from his lectern to the mouse in the plastic chair. The kid probably wanted to know if the class would get out early that day or whether he could have an extension on the first problem set or whether it was ok to drink soda in class.  Alan asked his name so he could start learning students’ names early. Normally it took Alan all quarter, and by then the class was over.

“I’m Oswald.” The student’s lithe fingers flew up to his face to adjust the eyeglasses on his nose in front of his admittedly beautiful gray eyes. “My full name is Oswald, but I go by Os.”

“Like The Wizard of Oz?” Alan grinned. He thought it was a good joke. The students only rolled their eyes. Maybe that movie was before their time. It was before Alan’s time too, he happily reminded himself.

“No. Not really like The Wizard of Oz.” The kid shook his head. Alan hadn’t gotten the right answer. The student’s voice wasn’t at all amused. More like annoyed, the way he shook his head with reprimand at his professor. “I mean it’s not even spelled the same. My name is spelled O-S. The Wizard of Oz is — well, you know how The Wizard of Oz is spelled.”

“Right.” Alan nodded. Alan spotted an escape route from this verbal pummeling he was receiving in front of his whole class. He was desperate to take it. Humiliation in front of the undergraduates who were supposed to be fawning over him wasn’t how he wanted to spend his first day of classes. “So what’s your question, Os?”

“I’m just wondering why you said we should prepare to be bamboozled.” Os held one finger in the air. He looked like an Oxford don, or like Professor Dumbledore. His eyes shone fierce inquiry. He obviously wasn’t going to drop the matter.

“Genetics is a difficult subject,” Alan said. For mere mortals, for people not as smart as Alan, Alan wanted to add, but didn’t. Everybody had to know that genetics was difficult. And if they didn’t know how difficult it is, Alan would show them, right there in his class.

“Right, but we’re here to learn, and you have a reputation as a great teacher.” Os nodded his head and pursed his lips into a question.

“Well,” Alan bought himself a few seconds to come up with an answer. “It’s just that most freshmen — most students who come through the classroom —”

“I just don’t get why you’d say that. Why you’d even joke about that. That you’d expect us to be bamboozled, when we’re supposed to learn. On the first day of class.” Os was indignant. He sat in the second row, and was physically one of the smallest guys in the class, but in the span of a few minutes he seemed to have emerged as the class’s leader and advocate. The other students looked to Os deferentially.

Os was mousy, but he wasn’t bad-looking. And his manner definitely wasn’t mousy. His questioning cut right to Alan’s core.

Alan’s face flushed hot and red. The mousy kid had caught him out. “I’m. Actually, I’m sorry. My words weren’t well considered. It was a stupid joke. Thank you for calling me out on it.”

It was the first time Alan had ever apologized to an undergraduate, or probably to any student. Os nodded offhandedly. Os’s expression looked like he’d been expecting Alan’s apology all along: like famous professors just apologized to Os all day long every day, like every day Os called out his professors in class and humiliated them. Maybe he did. A kid like that’s got bite. You never know.

“Alright. So, you won’t be bamboozled. You’re all intelligent men and women. You can certainly learn human genetics.” The class looked pleased with that. Alan felt like he was surrendering to them, with Os as their leader.

Sexual reproduction, Alan wrote on the whiteboard. At least college freshmen didn’t giggle at those words. Alan had spent a year teaching high school fifteen years back, when he himself was a college undergraduate, and he definitely did not enjoy having to settle the class down after every potentially giggle-worthy term.

“Sexual reproduction.” Alan repeated, reveling in the words, and reveling in his students’ lack of giggles. “What is required for sexual reproduction to take place? I mean the most important prerequisite?” Alan looked across the room. The same kid’s hand shot up again.

“Yes. You.” Alan looked at him. He even remembered his name. He remembered his name a little too well. “Os. Os, what’s required for sexual reproduction to take place?” Alan asked.

“Orgasm.” Os smiled slightly as the word came out. His white teeth flashed. He didn’t quiet his voice when he said the magic word. He nodded to confirm it. “Male orgasm. A cumshot.” Orgasm didn’t bring any giggles from the students, but cumshot certainly did. The expected deluge of giggles.

“True. Very true.” Alan nodded. “Sperm is indeed necessary for sexual reproduction to take place. But at an even more basic level. What’s necessary for sexual reproduction?”

Os’s hand was up again. No other hands were. Alan had no choice. He called on Os again.

Os cleared his throat before answering. “Are you referring to the cell level? Because you definitely need eukaryotes for sexual reproduction. And you definitely need gametes and meiosis.” Os was obviously holding back a smile as he spoke.

This time, Os wasn’t low-key in how he gave the answer. He gave Alan a proud half-grin that said You didn’t know I could do that, did you?. No, Alan didn’t know that Os could answer questions at that level. And Alan also didn’t know that his own professorly dick could grow hard just from looking at an undergraduate.

“Good answer, Os. Good answer.” Alan’s erect dick inside his pants was pointing directly at his students. He turned sideways to try to make it less obvious. Then he realized that his cock would be even more visible in profile.

Alan considered himself a sapiosexual. He was definitely attracted to smarts. He was openly alpha, but had never been mated. At the age of thirty-eight, his past sexual experience consisted only of rushed blowjobs with fellow professors and researchers at conferences, conventions, and other meetings.

At home in Springville, Alan was solitary. He didn’t even dare to attend LGBTQ-AO events at Springville State or join the university’s AO meetup groups. Relationships between faculty were frowned upon. Relationships between faculty and students were even more severely frowned upon. So what would be the point of tempting himself with what he couldn’t have?

He’d been tempted a few times before by a few of his brilliant graduate research students who were openly omega. But he knew not to get too close. One complaint to the dean, one Facebook post, one article in the Springville State Reporter, and his career, his reputation, everything, would be gone.

“Is class dismissed?” a burly jock yelled from the front row. The other students laughed. “You just went narcoleptic there for a minute, Professor Archer.”

“Class is not dismissed.” Alan took a deep breath. He didn’t have much else to tell his students. The more he tried not to look at Os, the more his eyes were drawn to him: the slim, sensitive face, with brown bangs gently falling on his forehead, the tortoise-shell-frame eyeglasses, and the mouth that held the power to destroy.

Alan could tell Os to see him in his office after class. But he didn’t have anything to tell him, nor ask him, other than well done on knowing eukaryotes, well done also on calling Alan on his poorly executed opening joke. Other than that, he had nothing to say to him. And after catching a whiff of the unmistakeable omega smell permeating the room, together with taking in the sight of Os’s mischievous grin, Alan was the one feeling bamboozled. He had nothing else to say to the students.

“Um, class is dismissed,” Alan said. He exhaled and sighed. Alan left the classroom before his students could. Os looked at Alan as a victor looks at a vanquished enemy: with triumph and, Alan could only hope, with a little bit of pity.

Two

Professor Archer’s office was on the fourth floor. Ancient, dusty signs pointed to some likely ancient, creaky elevator in some dusty corner of the building. But according to Buzzfeed, stair-climbing was the second-best exercise for shaping a young omega’s fertile ass. Os could definitely fit in some stair-climbing while visiting Professor Archer. He wiped sweat from his brow and started the climb up the dark, dusty stairs. He could only hope that Archer would already be in his office, ten minutes after the end of class.

As for that list’s absolute best exercise for ass-shaping, Os had no delusions. There was no way he could Professor Archer to pound his ass. But maybe Os could at least make the old man all loopy eyed. Or, if nothing else, he could ask Archer a question about the class. He could stand up for himself and demand that the class cover male pregnancy, and then demand that omegas be discussed with respect, not with sneers. That would be a step on his way to becoming comfortable in his own self, adulthood and omegahood.

Even thinking about Archer as an alpha felt like forbidden fruit. He was too far out of reach. Archer was the professor every omega man and every straight woman on campus was after. People joked that Archer’s looks and striking manner were the result of an advanced genetic engineering experiment. His tight-cropped blond hair crowned his perfectly chiseled face, six and a half feet off the ground. Blue eyes shone from Archer’s face like headlights.

Archer’s online CV said he graduated from Harvard in 2000, which meant he was almost 40. He looked more like 28. He could have been featured on a Facebook handsome-alpha-of-the-day page. As Os trudged up the stairs, he only hoped that his own exercise and diet regimen would let him stay that vivacious and young-looking when he was Archer’s age — even though unlike Archer, Os was an omega, an omega who very much wanted to use his genetic gift, and bear a child.

Being an omega was a gift, Os’s parents and teachers had told him. He’d worked hard trying to throw off the mental stigma of having been Omega Os all his life, of classmates and even relatives thinking he was nothing more than some alpha’s future fuckhole. At Springville State was where Os hoped to come into his own. Only one last flight of stairs to go.

Os could at least try to overcome his insecurity about having been born an omega. Showing Professor Archer his mettle as a biology student would help. Archer was not just an alpha, but the alpha of alphas, the one everybody wanted: academically, socially, and of course, sexually. Even a glance from Archer was enough to boost anybody’s confidence. After that morning’s in-class discussion, Os felt already well on his way to getting some step in his groove. “Own being omega,” Os’s dad always told him.

So far, that day, Os was more than owning being omega. He was absolutely dominating it. His dad would be proud, his beta and alpha brothers would be proud, even his high school PE teacher who’d called him “that pathetic little omega” might be proud.

Omega stigma dogged Os since high school. It wrecked his confidence. Springville State wasn’t the most academically prestigious college he’d gotten into. It didn’t have the most beautiful campus, nor the most comfortable dorms. But Springville State, just down the street from world-famous MPreg Hospital, was where omegas could be themselves. That was what everybody told Os, anyway.

Omega stigma was what he’d have to battle when visiting Professor Archer. The well-weathered sign on Archer’s office door said You don’t need to knock. I’m not scared of you.

Os did as the sign instructed. Without knocking or announcing himself, Os simply pushed the door open. He swung it wide open. He held his breath, in case Archer’s pheromones would be too much.

Archer was deeply reclining in an office chair. He’d sprawled his legs on his desk. His head was down, looking toward his crotch. The professor at his desk didn’t even notice Os come in. He looked ready to take a nap, or read a book, or maybe jerk off.

Os allowed himself to breathe, and Archer’s alpha smell was unmistakable. Os tried not to notice it. He knew that going around smelling alphas at college could very well lead him astray.

“Professor Archer?” Os said, quietly but confidently. He allowed himself one more sniff of the alpha scent permeating Archer’s office.

Archer gasped, then tensed up his whole body so hard that he tumbled over onto the floor. Archer’s huge manly body thudded down onto the floor, while the office chair clanged down. Pens and staplers and paper clips and books went flying.

Os’s first impulse was to try to help Archer up. Os stepped to Archer and extended his hand down to help him. Archer waved him away and shook his head no, then stood up on his own. He dusted off his pants and looked like a cat trying to look like his fall had all been intentional. Os played along.

Archer probably didn’t want to feel like an old man who’d just fallen out of his chair. 39 was around the age guys started worrying about these things. Os had learned that much from talking to alphas online. Archer sat back down in his chair, this time not leaning it back quite so far. Instead of leaning his chair far back, Archer raised his legs high up in the air. The way Archer held his legs up, Os couldn’t help but think of a man begging to be fucked.

Was 39 old? Kind of. Compared to Os’s 19 years, 39 was old. Maybe. Archer’s obvious compunction about his age only brought him down to size, made him more like a fallible human to Os. Maybe Os could just — well, just talk to him.

“Yeah, Oswald. Os.” Archer nodded from behind his desk, acting as if his spectacular fall to the ground had never happened. He looked as if he was just waking from a professorly nap. Maybe he was. He brushed some blond hair from the bridge of his glasses. “Os, not like The Wizard of Oz. What can I do with — what can I do for you?”

Archer’s voice close-up was that much more intimate when he spoke to Os directly, speaking up to Os from behind his desk, his legs still up in the air. It was nothing like how Archer’s voice had sounded in the lecture hall. In his small office, Archer sounded a little bit gruff, a little bit worn, a little bit intimate — and all manly. He no longer seemed like a public performer up on a stage, but like a very gorgeous, very imposing older man sitting right in front of Os.

“I’d like to discuss human reproduction, Professor Archer.” Even Os was surprised with his forwardness. He hadn’t intended to sound so forward. But he’d said it. And he’d have to own it. Anyway Archer wasn’t stupid. He must’ve already smelled Os’s omega pheromones loud and clear.

“Yes, what about human reproduction?” Archer folded his hands behind his head. Musky sweat aroma drifted from Archer’s armpits. It smelled like pure alpha man sex, even if it was muted by soap and deodorant smells. Oscar inhaled it deeply. He allowed himself two deep breaths before he answered Archer’s question.

“I just wondered how up-to-date the information in this class would be. Whether you’re aware of the latest developments in human reproduction.” Os folded his arms across his chest and allowed himself two more deep inhalations of Archer’s musk. Os’s erect cock pointed directly at Archer. Os could only hope that his tight-fit jeans would conceal his erection from Archer’s view. Or not.

“And I’m being asked this by an undergraduate?” Archer chuckled and shook his head. Even his breath was full of alpha pheromones. “Was there some, um,” Archer snickered again, making sure to show the full extent of his condescension to Os, “was there some area of human reproduction research that you, as a freshman undergraduate, would like to inform me about?”

Os wanted to blurt out everything: that he was an omega, that he wanted to make sure the class included male pregnancy, that he wanted to be represented in the curriculum, that the textbook didn’t make any mention of male pregnancy, that he didn’t want to be invisible. Instead, he choked up. “Well, Professor Archer—”

Standing there in Archer’s office, Os was surrounded by books, articles, plaques, trophies, diplomas, commendations, awards. All the prizes had Archer’s name on them, not Os’s. Even some of the books had Archer’s name on them. And not even one diploma or plaque or book in that office had Os’s name. Os was just a weak prissy omega, and a freshman at that. He was in no place to make demands.

Archer took his long legs down from the desk and rested them on the floor. He sat with his knees apart. Os wasn’t sure whether it was his imagination, but he definitely smelled alpha precum from Archer’s crotch, even through Archer’s pants and across the room. That only made Os choke up more.

“Professor Archer, you’re right. I don’t have any more questions. Thanks.” Os turned a hundred eighty degrees and made one very forceful step out of Archer’s office, through the still-open door. On the dusty institutional linoleum floor just past Archer’s door, Os skated. He slid on one foot, then the other. His loafers were no match for the dusty, slippery linoleum, and he went careening into the staircase railing in front of Archer’s office. The railing hit him right in his delivery flap. Good thing he wasn’t pregnant, as much as he’d dreamed about it, and as much as he’d wanted Archer’s class to cover male pregnancy.

Os turned back to Archer. Archer was still reclining in his chair, looking with a smirk at the post-careening Os.

“Thank you, Professor Archer. Nice to meet you.” Os called out, trying to look and sound perfectly normal after having steadied himself on his feet.

“Thanks for coming by my office,” Archer answered, with an even more obvious smirk.

“You too!” Os answered, then scurried back down the stairs. That was a stupid thing to say. He held the railing on his way running down so that he wouldn’t go skating again. His face burned red with embarrassment at having humiliated himself in front of a professor.

At least his dorm room was a single. Springville State put all unmated alpha and omega students in single rooms. That was another reason Os had chosen the school. He could retreat into his omegacave, as he called it — or “the land of Os,” as he started thinking of it after Archer’s dumb comment about The Wizard of Oz.

Back in the land of Os, Os could lie in his bed and daydream his favorite daydream: fatherhood. Becoming an omega father. That was the whole reason he was taking Archer’s class: wanting to study omega fatherhood up close. Maybe Archer wouldn’t let him study that. Os had to content himself with lying back on his bed and watching YouTube videos about male pregnancies and deliveries. And with Archer, he’d live to fight another day — he could approach that topic another time. He had a whole quarter left in the class. Or a whole two decades left in his omega fertility.

Three

Oswald came back. He wanted more, maybe. The linoleum-skating freshman once again graced Alan’s office doorway. He stood there with a dumb grin on his face, only a week after having flustered himself to sprint out of that same office. Maybe this time Os would at least be more careful about how he ran away, or wear shoes with better traction.

“Oswald. What can I do for you?” It was a neutral enough opening. Keeping office hours for undergraduates was an obligation of professorship. And Alan was sitting securely behind his desk, to hide the tenting that would inevitably happen in Alan’s professorial slacks after a few looks and smells of this gorgeous young omega.

“I’m sorry for bothering you again, Professor Archer.” The kid seemed to shrink down when one-on-one in the office, nothing like his imperturbable vibe in the classroom. “Am I, am I bothering you, Professor?”

Maybe Os was intimidated by good looks, academic publications, a fit body more befitting a twentysomething athlete than a fortyish professor — among other excellent traits of Alan’s. Or maybe Os just hadn’t had enough alpha attention to give him a cocky attitude.

The kid was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, and his omega smell was clear as day. Alan had fallen clear out of his chair that first time Os came to see him. That strong-willed little freshman’s pheromones combined with his looks were that strong. There had to be a lean and muscular body under those hoodies, even if Os wasn’t one to show it off. Os was mousy but masculine, demure but assertive, the kind of omega that Alan would always dream of.

“Nope. You’re not bothering me at all. When I’m in this office, I’m basically your bitch.” Alan shot Os a knowing grin when he said it, even if Alan himself had no idea exactly what he was trying to imply. He shocked himself by calling himself anybody’s bitch. Much less a freshman’s bitch. But there it was.

“I just wanted to follow up,” the kid said. He seemed still furtive and almost ashamed. At least he wasn’t as flat-out terrified as he’d been the previous time he’d visited Alan’s office.

“Sit. Make yourself comfortable.” Alan didn’t know why he said that. He normally didn’t tell his students to make themselves comfortable in his office. But with Os, his mind was somewhere else. Os stepped toward the soft chair in front of the desk, then put his hand to his crotch and adjusted something before sitting down. There must have been a monster omega cock in there. “You’re certainly well-end— well aware that you’re the biggest— I mean best. The best student in the class. I’m happy about that.”

“Thanks, Professor Archer.” Os’s smile was innocent but knowing. At nineteen years old he was certainly a master of the arts of seduction. Or maybe it was all just Alan’s alpha instincts taking over. “Professor Archer, I just wanted to bring up a concern about the class.”

“Sure.” Alan rolled his chair over to the computer and randomly clicked the mouse and tapped on the keyboard. That way he wouldn’t seem totally preoccupied with Os in his office. It would be just another professor-student meeting, and Professor Alan Archer would be tending to his very important professor-business while this freshman peon would be rattling on to him. Or that at least was how Alan wanted to make it seem. “So what’s your concern about the class?” Alan absentmindedly tapped the O key as he looked at Oswald.

“I just noticed our textbook doesn’t mention male pregnancy.” The way Oswald said those last two words, slowly and deliberately, it sounded like he wanted to be mounted, fucked, and impregnated right then and there. Or maybe that was just how his pheromones told it to Alan’s nose.

“Oh yeah, textbooks aren’t perfect.” Alan wanted to seem offhand about it. The truth was that Alan preferred not to discuss male pregnancy in his classroom because the subject was a little too personal to him. He might lose his cool if he was forced to stand up in front of a room of horny college omegas and talk about alpha-omega man-lust.

He knew he was an alpha. He badly wanted to make an omega pregnant, but he’d never found an omega who could keep up with him intellectually, not only sexually. And teaching about alpha-omega relationships in the classroom would just dredge up all those unfulfilled desires of Alan’s. Better to just teach old-fashioned male-female pregnancy and then let the students find the rest on their own if they needed to. At least until he finally got tenure. If and when the university finally gave him tenure — somewhat controversial for an unmated alpha — he could do whatever the hell he wanted. Until then, he had to tread lightly on the topic of alpha-omega relationships.

“It’s a pretty big thing to leave out, don’t you think?” As Os said the words pretty big thing, Alan stared into Os’s crotch. There was a definite cylindrical outline there. It was like a miniature baseball bat in there. Omegas weren’t supposed to have big dicks, but there was definitely something big inside Os’s jeans.

“Yeah. If you want, you can research male pregnancy on your own.” Alan shrugged. From all the staring he was doing at Os, Alan’s own dick was almost ready to break through his slacks. Good thing the desk was hiding it. He could smell his own precum. Os could probably smell it too.

“No.” Os said it emphatically, with voice slightly raised. This omega couldn’t be pushed around. Alan was taken aback. “No. I’m not going to settle for that. I’m here for college. And I’m in your class to learn about human reproduction.” Os was breathing quickly, and his face was flushed. He was gesturing with his hands. “Professor Archer, you’re supposed to teach human reproduction, not tell your students to go learn it by themselves. If I wanted to learn things by myself, I wouldn’t be here at college.”

Yet again the kid made a perfect argument. And yet again, the kid humiliated Alan, this time in Alan’s own office, rather than in his classroom. This Os kid was no submissive bimbo omega. As far as Alan officially knew, this kid wasn’t even an omega — he’d never mentioned it to Alan directly, but of course Alan could smell him from across the classroom, and knew their obvious sexual attraction.

“Is male pregnancy an interest of yours?” Alan leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “Do you — do you want to — are you —”

“I’m an omega, Professor Archer.” Os had definitely built up more confidence. He was speaking emphatically, as if giving orders to Alan. “Which you already knew, of course. But yes, I’m an omega. I want to have a baby. And I want to learn about omega reproduction. Not just about male-female reproduction. Especially here in Springville.”

“Oh, looks like you’re another Doctor Albright, huh?” Alan laughed slightly. Doctor Albright was a pioneer in male pregnancy knowledge. Unlike this freshman kid.

“Even Doctor Albright had to start somewhere, didn’t he?” Os raised his eyebrows. They were trimmed, close-cropped, perfectly shaped, like caret marks above his deep gray eyes.  “He also had to learn about human reproduction. Somehow.” The edges of Os’s mouth barely, just barely cracked into a smile. It was the kind of smile that they could both pretend didn’t exist. But it was definitely there.

“So your interest is — you want to be pregnant yourself?” Alan asked.

“Your class should teach it, but it doesn’t. We omegas have a biological drive to become pregnant.” Os shook his head and ever-so-slightly rolled his eyes. His cheeky insouciance was sexy. All of him was sexy. Especially when he was talking back to his alpha professor. “And I’m an omega. So, as an esteemed professor, you should know that yes, I not only want to become pregnant, but need to become pregnant.”

“Being a father is something you want pretty badly, isn’t it?” Alan gulped, then wiped sweat off his forehead as he spoke. Oswald’s pheromone smell was like an invisible cloud in the office, a cloud that Alan was drowning in. He was at peak arousal, and this was a student in front of him.

“It’s my biological imperative. It’s more than a want. It’s more than a need. It’s a must.” Os looked dead serious, and demanding. It was like he was asking to be pregnant.

“You know, Os, I normally don’t talk about personal matters to my students, but I thought you might be interested to know—”

“That you’re a strong, fertile, unmated alpha full of sperm, ready to make me pregnant?” Os did his cheeky, half-innocent grin when he said it. Alan gasped. He might have almost fainted from Os’s directness.

“I — yes — if you —” Alan was still dumbfounded.

“Maybe you’re not used to an omega being so assertive? I’m not the pipsqueak submissive omega you might see on TV or in the movies. Not that kind of omega.” Os shook his head emphatically. His face was gorgeous from every angle.

“I’m an alpha. Yeah, I’m an alpha. And I’ve ever seen — I mean not anybody — I’ve never seen any kind of omega, any kind of student omega especially, who could stand up to me.”

“I knew you were an alpha right when I saw you the first day of class. That’s why I was surprised your class wasn’t teaching male pregnancy. That’s also why I wanted to come to your office.” Os smiled, showing his twin rows of perfect white teeth. “I can’t help but be drawn to you. I know, it’s probably me and every other omega on campus, but I have to say I’m drawn to you.”

“Maybe it’s just pheromones.” Alan liked to feign modesty. Of course he knew every omega on campus was drawn to him. So were the gay beta men. So were the hetero women. Even other alphas wanted to fuck him.

“I don’t think it’s just pheromones. But you already know that.” Os smiled and nodded. “False modesty, right? But you already know how accomplished you are, how confident you are, how handsome you are. The pheromone and precum smell don’t hurt either.” Os clicked his tongue. He was the perfect cheeky, mischievous omega.

“And you’re the first omega, and the first student, who stood up to me, could keep pace with me. I’m drawn to you too. Badly. Even though you’re a student. And you’re only what — nineteen?”

“Nineteen. And a virgin.” Os smiled. Of course that last bit of information wasn’t necessary. But Os obviously reveled in it.

“But you’re sure you want to be pregnant?” Alan shook his head slightly. Young omegas always wanted to be pregnant, sometimes way too young.

“Maybe I can make a clearer decision on that matter after I see your alpha dick, Professor Archer?”

Alan’s jaw dropped in shock. Maybe he’d misheard. “After you see how my brain ticks, did you say?”

“No. After I see your alpha dick.” Os smiled. “The alpha dick that more than half the campus dreams about.”

“I — I don’t know if it would be appropriate.” That was the understatement of the century. Of course it would be extremely inappropriate. Alan knew it full well. And he still wanted it.

“You don’t know that it would be inappropriate? Were you sleeping in  your faculty ethics seminar?” Os grinned and demonstratively licked his lips.

“No. I mean yes.” Alan had never been tongue-tied like this. Not even with other professors. Not even when he did research work with Adam Albright. But now, with this puny little omega freshman, Alan was overwhelmed.

“Stand up,” Os said impatiently. Alan followed instructions. He stood up, then walked a few steps to where Os was sitting. Why did he walk over to him like that? He didn’t know himself. It was like magnetic attraction drawing him to Os. That and Os was assertive enough, cheeky enough, bitchy enough, incisive enough, that Alan couldn’t say no to him.

“I’m not sure what’s—” Alan’s wasn’t sure of anything. In the thirty minutes since Os had come into his office, in the three weeks since Os had first come into his classroom, Alan’s world had gone topsy-turvy.

“Drop those pants and let me see.” Os said it just as confidently as he’d said everything else to Alan. There was no way for Alan to think his request was anything but routine, or anything but mandatory.

Alan unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. This was really happening. And his career would be over if anybody found out.

Os was staring into Alan’s crotch, eyes fixated on the seam of his boxers. Os’s hands moved up toward Alan’s crotch. They were shaking. Os gripped the waistband of Alan’s boxers and pulled down. Alan’s dick was already hard, but the sight of Os’s hands approaching Alan’s crotch, then the feeling of Os gliding the waistband slowly over Alan’s cockshaft — it made the dick get that much harder, so hard it felt as if it would almost explode.

The dick was out. Alan was standing in his faculty office. With his hard dick out. With his nineteen-year-old student. With the door unlocked. Alan rushed to the door to lock it. He was waddling in his lowered pants as fast as he could. He turned the lock, pushed in the second lock, then waddled back to stand in front of Os again. Why did he do that? Why couldn’t he just run the hell out of that room, claim a student tried to seduce him, save his academic career?

“Professor Archer, in your professional opinion—” Os furtively palmed the underside of Alan’s dick and held it up in his hand. “In your professional opinion, do you think that this penis is capable of producing pregnancy in a fertile omega male?”

Alan was sweating and hyperventilating too hard to even think of an answer. He wanted Os like he’d never wanted anyone before. But in his office, with his dick out, with a student ordering him around, it was surreal.

“Um. In my professional opinion. As your professor. Yes, a healthy alpha male’s penis can definitely produce pregnancy in a fertile omega male.” Alan at least felt a little bit more normal, talking in a professorial tone, answering questions about human reproduction. That was comforting. He tried hard not to think of his dick being out of his pants and its erect dickhead bobbing in front of his student’s mouth.

“But what’s required? Do you remember from our first class session what is required to produce a pregnancy, Professor Archer?” This little bitch was so cheeky. Alan wanted him so badly.

“Male orgasm.” Alan said it almost without moving his mouth. He looked out the window at sunset on campus, students and professors speed-walking to their classes, to their study meetings, to their extracurriculars — nobody, ever, would have suspected that here was Professor Alan Archer, in his office, with his erect dick out. Discussing male orgasm.

“Correct.” Os pointed Alan’s dick up higher, directly toward his face. Alan felt the vibrations of Os’s voice on his sensitive dickhead. “Male orgasm.” Os nodded calmly, then cupped Alan’s balls in his right hand. He drew his nose in to Alan’s dick, and smelled up and down the shaft. “Your dick smells like quite a bit of precum.”

Alan could only moan blankly in response. He put his hands on his hips. He felt like he’d almost lose his balance and fall down. Os had that power over him.

Os puckered his lips and gave one small dry kiss to Alan’s shaft. “Smells amazing. Tastes amazing too.” Then the tongue. Os’s tongue touched Alan’s balls, then slowly traced the path of a vein up the dick to the tip. This was really happening.

“Oswald, Os, are you sure?” Alan wasn’t even sure what he meant.

“I’m sure.” Os slurped at the dickhead. His saliva made Alan’s dickhead feel cool, like wet hair on a cold day. Os blew on it and laughed. This was one extremely naughty little omega. “I’m extremely sure. Cocksure.” Os laughed at his own joke, then grabbed Alan’s balls with his left hand and dick with his right, and shoved them into his mouth.

It was like nothing Alan had felt. Sure, he’d had random hookup blowjobs at academic conferences. But he’d never felt anyone hungrily suck at his dick like this. He’d never felt lips and mouth passionately wrapped around his cockshaft like that.

This was his student sucking his dick. Which he was trying to forget. But then he kept remembering. He wasn’t sure which way was better.

Os’s hands grabbed and fondled Alan’s ass cheeks. His fingertips were strategically teasing Alan’s sensitive rim. That was definitely no accident. Os was as mischievous as he was young and naive. And Alan was absolutely loving it.

Alan’s dick deeply in his mouth, Os softly slapped Alan’s ass cheek. Alan took it as a reminder for him to do something too, not just stand there. He started fucking Os’s mouth, thrusting into him until he could feel Os’s throat on his dickhead. Os sucked hard and grabbed desperately at Alan’s ass and balls.

Os’s tongue danced quickly on Alan’s dickshaft and dickhead. It felt like a hummingbird. Then he slipped the dick out of his mouth and announced, as if he were the faculty dean: “I believe you’ve had enough warm-up, Professor Archer.”

“Warm up?” Alan was mumbling. His dick was dripping precum mixed with Os’s spit. Os walked over to Alan’s office chair and pulled down his own pants completely, down off his feet. He tossed his pants aside. And now there was a half-naked student sitting in Alan’s professorial chair. This wasn’t good. Even if it was so good.

“Certainly you know enough about human reproduction to know about the main event? My ass is already lubed up. I hope you’re ready to do your part.” Still sitting in the chair, Os raised his legs in the air, then grabbed them with his arms. His clean virgin ass crack stared directly at Alan. And Alan’s dick was hard and ready.

“You mean—” Alan started to ask. His head was still loopy from what was happening.

“I mean fuck my ass now. To teach me all about male pregnancy and human reproduction.”

“You want me to—” Alan had never encountered such a bad idea that was such a good idea.

“Fuck me hard, deep, and shoot a lot of cum into me. Like the alpha you are.”

“I’ve never—”

“You’ve never had sex?” Os smiled.

“Not with an omega. Not to make a baby.” It was true. Alan’s past brief hookups only resulted in a few small spurts of cum. His dick hadn’t even knotted during those past hookup encounters; he definitely couldn’t have made any babies those other times.

“You’re a professor of human reproduction. You need to know omega ass a bit better.” Os smiled. “Fucking mount me now.”

Alan gasped. It was the best and worst invitation he’d ever gotten. He approached Os and stood so his hard dick was dangling down and just barely touching Os’s asshole.

Alan leaned down to Os’s face and puckered his lips for a kiss. Os turned his face away. “Put your dick in me first,” Os demanded. “Then we’ll kiss.”

Alan did as told. He held his dick in his hand and pointed the dickhead directly at Os’s asshole. Then, still aiming his dick with his hand, he stepped forward, and pushed all of himself into Os’s butthole, shoving his dick into it.

“Oh my God.” Os laughed in joy.

“You ok?” Alan growled as he pushed the dick in deeper and deeper into Os.

“It doesn’t hurt at all. Feels amazing.” Os was still smiling, like a kid opening Christmas presents. But Os’s present was his professor’s alpha dick deep in his ass.

“Can we kiss?” Alan asked. Not only was he balls-deep in his freshman student, but he was asking him permission. Everything was upside down.

“Fucking kiss me now,” Os answered. Alan leaned down with lips and tongue and went ferociously to Os’s mouth. He sucked on Os’s lips, then thrust his tongue into Os’s mouth. Os tasted like fresh Listerine; maybe he’d planned this seduction all along. Alan’s tongue explored Os’s mouth, running over his teeth, his gums, his lips. Omega pheromones washed over him.

Os was kissing him back. Their erect tongues met and pushed against each other in their mouths. Os sucked on Alan’s lips, then on his tongue.

Alan started his fucking rhythm into Os’s ass. His own precum along with Os’s natural omega lubrication made the fucking slippery and fast. He fucked Os harder and and harder, pushing into him, feeling Os’s prostate brushing up against his dickhead.

Every time he pushed even harder, he expected Os to complain at some point, to say too much, or to draw away. But Os only moaned in deeper pleasure and with his asshole fucked back at Alan’s dick even harder.

“How are you handling the advanced fucking seminar, Oswald?” Alan couldn’t believe he’d just said it. Maybe he really had been asleep in his faculty ethics seminar. Or maybe Os was just too much — maybe even faculty ethics seminars couldn’t keep him away from an omega like that.

“Harder the better,” Os groaned. Alan started pushing in longer strokes, to feel the pleasure of his dick sliding in and out of Os’s ass. Then after a particularly hard thrust, it happened — what he knew about only from studying it in male pregnancy books. His dickhead expanded, knotting him inside Os. He couldn’t pull out completely, but he could definitely move inside Os’s ass, move around and give him pleasure.

“Are we studying alpha knotting now, Professor Archer?” Os grinned. Alan unbuttoned Os’s dress shirt and fondled his chest, his nipples, his small but defined abs. That was Alan’s answer. Then he leaned down again and kissed Os.

“Yes, we are studying knotting now, Oswald. And I love being knotted inside you.” Alan kissed Os deeper than he’d ever kissed him before. His tongue went almost to Os’s throat. The deeper his tongue was in Os’s mouth, the closer his nose to Os’s face, and the closer he smelled Os’s omega pheromones. He moved his dick as much as he could inside Os’s ass while he was knotted in him. He could still rub up against Os’s prostate with his cockhead and rub up against both sides of Os’s rim with his hard shaft.

Os moaned in pleasure. His mouth was open, his cheeks flushed red, his eyes were back in his head, and he was breathing quickly. Os closed his eyes and reached out to Alan’s balls. With both his hands, Os fondled and massaged Alan’s balls. It felt amazing, especially while Os’s ass was clenched on his dick, and while they were alternating kissing and staring at each other.

Alan’s hips spasmed. His whole body shook and he felt weak. He involuntarily pushed deeper into Os, then even deeper. His dick had never been that deep in. Then he felt it: his dick throbbing and pulsing, and the gobs of cum shooting into Os’s ass.

Os howled in pleasure when he felt the cum. Then he clenched his ass, even the ass cheeks, around Alan’s dick. Os sat up slightly in the chair, Alan’s chair, and Alan lowered himself so they could kiss. Os’s mouth was hot and wet and salty and the pheromone smell came even from inside his mouth.

Alan was still pumping and shooting cum into Os and he grabbed Os’s dick to let Os reciprocate. It didn’t take much. Alan jerked Os’s dick and twirled his fingers on the dickhead. He leaned in to Os again and whispered in his ear: “I think — I think I love you.” He didn’t even know Os that well. But the attraction was unbelievably strong. And the sex was like from another planet.

“I — aarrgh” Os groaned. He thrust up with his whole body, fucking up into Alan’s hand. Then he started shooting cum into the air and up onto Alan’s shirt. “I love you too.”

Alan’s dick was lazily pumping its last shots of sperm into Os. Os had his hands cupped on Alan’s balls, milking all the nectar out of them. Alan didn’t know he had that much cum inside him. It felt like he’d shot a gallon of it inside Os. The room smelled like cum, even though all the cum had gone deep inside Os’s ass.

Alan slowly gyrated his cock inside Os to milk out the last drops and to give his dickhead time to unknot. He put out his tongue and put his head down to Os’s face. Os looked at him with his big eyes and met Alan’s tongue with his own, then drew his mouth in to kiss him deeply, the whole time still staring into Alan’s eyes.

Os smiled at Alan. “You think I’ll have a baby?”

“I’ve never shot cum like that before in my life. So I think we’re gonna be parents, yeah.” It was crazy. Alan knew it. But he and Os were going to be parents. He’d most likely just made his student pregnant. He couldn’t be absolutely sure yet, but it was pretty much a certainty; as a professor of human reproduction, Alan knew very well that omega males don’t have menstrual cycles and are always fertile.

“You’re not going to forget me, are you?” Os asked. It was the first time Alan had seen Os so vulnerable, even more vulnerable than when he’d slipped-skated out of Alan’s office that day. Maybe thoughts of fatherhood had made Os vulnerable. The promise of parenthood had the tendency to do that to everybody. Maybe it was also happening to Alan, because he only wanted to cuddle and protect Os — not just to fuck him, not just to admire him for his cheekiness, not just to prove his academic power over him.

Alan didn’t know how it happened, but he was definitely in love. He kissed Os’s mouth, his nose, his neck, and gave his chin a love nibble. He ran his hands over Os’s young, lithe body. His dickhead was already unknoted. He could’ve already pulled out of Os, but he didn’t want to. He was living the moment, enjoying it, savoring it. It had been his first time ever making love — not just fucking, not just getting a blowjob, but actually making love.

Os’s face, with those perfect arched eyebrows of his, showed perfect freshness and youth, but a certain wise maturity. Os would definitely make a good father for their baby.

Four

Waking up in his dorm room, Os could only think of the pregnancy test kit. Archer gave him the kit after they’d had sex — or made love, as Archer called it when they kissed goodbye. OmegaCheck pregnancy tests were the brand Archer endorsed on TV, and he had stacks of them as free samples to hand out on campus.

Two lines meant: pregnant. One line meant: sorry, try again, you silly omega.

Os stood above the toilet naked. He held the test stick in his left hand and his cock in his right. He peed and peed and peed all over the stick. Somehow in his own superstitious thinking, the more he peed on the test stick, the more likely he was to be actually pregnant.

His pee splashed on his hand as he enthusiastically peed all over the stick, but he didn’t care. Having a baby was all he cared about. It was, as he’d told Archer, his biological imperative.

A WhatsApp message from Archer awaited Os on his phone. Another message awaited from Os’s father. He didn’t even want to read either one until he knew whether he was having a baby. Then Os could tell Archer that they were going to be fathers. He could tell his own father that he was all grown up now, about to have a baby himself.

The stick was soaked in pee. Normally the smell would’ve been disgusting to Os, but this time, it was the smell of good news about to appear. Or so he hoped.

Os shook it a bit and lay it on the bathroom counter. Then he washed his hands with lots of soap, once and again, feeling slightly disgusted at all the pee he was washing off. He tried not to fret or panic. The line or lines would appear. He just had to give them time. He slowly towel-dried his hands, deliberately trying as hard as he could not to look at the pregnancy test stick.

Two lines. He saw it from the corner of his eye. Two lines on the pregnancy test stick. He was pregnant. He was going to have a baby. He was going to be an omega father. He was a parent. He was truly mated with gorgeous, amazing, arrogant, brilliant Professor Alan Archer.

There was a baby inside him: a beautiful baby, all his and Alan’s. It wasn’t technically true of course. Scientifically, it was just a tiny embryo, not even a fetus, not even a baby. But Os preferred to imagine his offspring as a beautiful cuddly baby living inside him. It was a beautiful cuddly baby he’d spent his life dreaming about, not an embryo.

Os’s mental image of a chubby pink-skinned baby just sitting inside him, waiting to come out and be hugged and loved, wasn’t wrong. It was only a few months early.

He looked at the test stick again. It was definitely two lines. It wasn’t his imagination. He didn’t want to touch the stick after he’d peed on it. Instead, he took his phone off the nightstand and snapped a photo of the double lines. He sent it to Professor Archer in WhatsApp.

It was bizarre to be sending a photo of his pregnancy test to his professor. But it was no less bizarre than Os now being Professor Alan Archer’s mate. And Os was getting used to bizarre.

Still no reply from Archer in WhatsApp, even though he showed online. I’M PREGNANT! WE’RE FATHERS! Os wrote to him, just to reinforce his point. Archer endorsed the OmegaCheck pregnancy test kit on TV. It wasn’t really possible that Archer didn’t already know what two lines meant on the test. But Os wanted to make sure he was clear. They were having a baby, and Archer was his partner in this. And until he’d told Archer about his pregnancy, Os didn’t want to tell anybody else, not even his own father.

Os went to his calculus class, but couldn’t think of much other than his pregnancy and being a father. Nine months later would be the middle of summer. He’d have to tell his parents too at some point. Maybe his dad would be proud of him for owning being an omega, or maybe he’d just lecture him about being pregnant when he didn’t even have a job. But the baby was most important to Os. And his love for Alan Archer was second most important.

Calculus class passed in a blur of graphs and limits. Os wasn’t really paying attention. He snuck out after half an hour and went right to Archer’s office.

Stairs or elevator? He was a pregnant man now, even if only for one day. He’d better get used to taking the elevator. He found the elevator and took the squeaking carriage up to the fourth floor. Archer’s door had the same sign as always: don’t knock before coming in, because he’s not scared of anybody. But when Os opened the door, Archer looked positively terrified to see him.

“Don’t you have class now? Math 121 with Professor Zil.” Professor Archer seemed to be reading that off his computer screen. He saw Os’s surprised look, then quickly reached out and turned off the monitor in front of him.

“I got out of class early to come see you.” Os hoped Archer would be touched by that gesture. Or at least not put off by it. It wasn’t such an unusual thing. Partners. Co-fathers. Mates. Future husbands probably. Os could definitely come visit Archer in his office during office hours, couldn’t he? Even when he was just Archer’s student he could do that. And now he was Archer’s — he wasn’t sure what.

“Oh. I thought you’re in class,” Archer said. He looked distracted. “I mean, welcome.” Archer looked at Alan straight ahead, like a deer in headlights.

“I never told you my schedule.” Of course, professors could access their students’ schedules online. That was what Archer had likely done. Os was still Archer’s student, after all. Archer still held that much authority over him.

“Ah. No. You didn’t tell me your schedule.” Archer seemed embarrassed.

“Hey! We’re fathers! I’m pregnant! Did you get my message?” Os beamed his brightest smile at Archer.

“Ah, yeah. I saw that.” Archer looked at Os blankly again. Os tried to find some exhilaration or joy at fatherhood in Archer’s face, but he couldn’t make out any. Maybe it was pregnancy messing with Os’s sense of faces. Or maybe Archer wasn’t really happy about the pregnancy.

“Isn’t it great? I’m pregnant. You’re the father. I’m the father. Our baby.” Os waved his hands in the air in joy. It was a childish gesture, but the happiness of being pregnant had taken over his attempts to be adult.

“Ah, yeah, Os. It’s a big thing, pregnancy.” Archer looked at his monitor, then at his desk, then at the door behind Os.

“It’s a huge thing! Isn’t it great?” Os still held out hope that somehow he could jump-start Archer’s excitement or enthusiasm or at least vague happiness at the pregnancy, even if that seemed unrealistic. How could anybody not have been excited about being a father?

“Os. I’m going to be direct here. I don’t want to lose my job.”

“Lose your job? Because of being a father?”

“Come on, Os. You told me this yourself. About the faculty ethics seminar. I’d be fired for having sex with my student. Or for having any kind of relationship with my student.”

“But—”

“And you know, by the laws of human reproduction, if I’m the father of your baby, and I’m no sperm donor, then I had sex with you. You know that?”

“So you’re ashamed of having a baby?” That was really nothing like Os had seen or expected. He’d heard of men being ashamed of being gay or of being alpha or omega. That was pretty common. But Archer didn’t seem ashamed at all of being alpha. He just suddenly didn’t want to step up to being the father of the baby.

Archer shook his head. He folded his hands and looked into them. “We got carried away yesterday.”

“We? Didn’t you tell me? Didn’t I ask you first?” The memories rushed over Os’s mind and came out as a jumble of words. Archer had known exactly what he was doing, hadn’t he? He’d told Os that he loved him, hadn’t he? That they’d be fathers together?

“Biology.” Archer shook his head wearily. “I mean, biology took over.”

“So that’s an excuse?” Os was almost shouting. He didn’t like to raise his voice. But he’d never encountered anything like this. Archer was supposed to be an adult, wasn’t he? A 39-year-old grown man, supposedly a strong, reliable alpha, wasn’t supposed to have moods that turned on a dime, was he?

“Biology took over so you’re not responsible for your actions?” Os asked Archer. Os’s indignation showed in his voice, or at least he hoped it did. “Like biology is some ghost taking over your body, so you no longer have responsibility for what you did?” Os was impressed with his own ability to give Archer a verbal smackdown.

The verbal smackdown did nothing to solve the situation, but it still felt good. It reminded Os of how confident and skilled he’d been in giving Archer a smackdown back in the classroom.

“Os. Oswald. I want to keep my job.” Archer shook his head.

“So let’s step back in history, ok?” Now Os was sounding like a professor, and Archer looked more like a defensive student.

“Os, I know the history—” Archer exhaled and shook his head. He cast his eyes down. Maybe he felt shame. Or maybe he was just avoiding facing Os.

“No. I don’t think you know the history, Professor Archer, Alan.” Os pointed his finger at Archer. He didn’t care about politeness. “I think you’re the one here who doesn’t know the history. Let’s see. You willingly had sex with me. You told me you love me. You told me we’re parents together. Were you not aware of your employment when you said these things? Did it momentarily slip your mind that you’re a professor at Springville State?”

“I don’t want to—” Archer said slowly, then paused as if to think of what to say next.

“You don’t want to what?” Os didn’t wait for Archer’s answer. His stomach was queasy and he had a pounding headache. “I feel like shit. I’ll be going now.”

He turned around and walked out of Archer’s office. He didn’t slip this time; he’d been extra-careful on his feet in the five hours he’d known he was pregnant.

He felt like shit because of Archer’s attitude, Archer’s rejection. And he also felt like shit because of the pregnancy. Men’s bodies hadn’t evolved to handle pregnancy the way that women’s bodies had evolved. It was a lot harder for omegas than it was for women, and Os was well aware of it.

The pregnancy pains and nausea were in full swing. That encounter with Archer only made things worse.

Five

Say what you will about Springville State, but the omega dorms at Springville State were a lot nicer than those musky roach-infested student barracks Alan remembered back at Harvard. Twenty years can change a lot: maybe the dorms at Harvard were spiffed up now too. Or maybe Springville State was just extra-nice to its omegas. It made Alan almost want to be a young omega. Almost. But that’s not what his life was. In real life, Alan was unquestionably an alpha. The whole university knew about that, and they knew that he wasn’t mated. Alan Archer, famously single, eternally a romantic free agent, not in any relationships as far as anybody at the university knew.

Still, he was Alan Archer, so he was able to walk into the omega dorm, his alpha pheromones fully blazing, without too many looks askance from the security officers or student residents. He was just that famous professor, certainly visiting a student. Otherwise, there would’ve been raised eyebrows about a horny, pheromone-emitting alpha going around the omega students’ dorm.

For almost the entire campus population, Professor Alan Archer was invincible, perpetually immune from guilt and free of sin. But it wasn’t so with the only person on campus who mattered to Alan: Oswald. The dorm’s security guards and other residents didn’t look at Alan with suspicion. But he knew that Oswald would.

Knock hard. I may be daydreaming about having a baby. read the placard on Oswald’s dorm room door. Alan was at least glad to see he’d influenced Os’s dorm room door scribbles. Alan knocked hard, as instructed. The sound of his own fist on the door, the rhythm, reminded him of— but he was still confused about what all that meant.

The dorm room door opened. Oswald peeked through the crack. The door closed again.

Alan cupped his hands into the door. It was like yelling out to a ship. Except he was yelling into a plywood door. “Oswald. I’m sorry. I hope we can talk.”

No answer. No sound from inside the room.

“Oswald, please, can you just give me a minute? I came to apologize.”

The door swung open. Os peeked out through the crack again. His gorgeous gray eyes were beautiful as ever, even if slightly puffy and bloodshot from the pregnancy. “Ok, apologize,” Os said, without opening the door any further, without stepping out, without inviting Alan inside.

“Can I step in for a second?” Alan whispered through the door crack.

“So you can have your way with me again?” Os sneered. His omega hormones were at full blast, even if he didn’t know it.

“So I can apologize.” Alan whispered again. He realized his quiet whispering might actually look more suspicious to onlookers than if he just talked in a normal voice. He was in a panic about the whole mess he’d gotten himself into.

“I’m admitting you purely for humanitarian reasons.” Os opened his dorm room door with an exasperated sigh. Alan stepped in. Os shut the door.

Breathing the air Os’s room was like soaking in omega pheromones. But Alan tried hard not to let it overwhelm him.

“Os. I’m sorry. I was just — I was just dumbfounded this morning.” Alan was still whispering, inside Os’s room. He wasn’t sure why. But a university dorm, especially an omega dorm, didn’t seem like a place that could hold any kind of secret.

“Like, as a professor of human reproduction, you were dumbfounded that I became pregnant from your sperm?” Os shook his head.

“It just became too real.” That was the best excuse Alan could think of. He’d spent his professional life talking about pregnancy, insemination, and embryos. But he was entirely unprepared for it actually happening. “Oswald, Os, did you ever take an astronomy class?”

“Yeah, in high school. Why?”

“Well, imagine if you suddenly found out that you were booked on a space flight. And you were expected to be ready for it because you knew about astronomy. That’s how it feels now for me.”

Os shook his head and sighed. “False analogy, Professor Archer. Astronomy is the study of celestial objects, not the study of space travel. Meanwhile, human reproduction is the study of human reproduction. So, you got anything better?”

The kid was good. Really good.

“Os. I’m sorry. It’s a bad analogy. Ok. Really. I want to be with you. I want to be a father. I wanted to be a father with you.”

“Is this like a race how many times you can change your mind in one day?” Os held his abdomen, groaned in pain, and sat down on his bed.

“Os, are you having pregnancy pain?”

“Disappointingly for you, Professor Archer, yes, I’m pregnant. And yes, I’m having pregnancy pain. Because I have a baby inside me. A baby you fathered. A baby I guess you no longer want.” Os held his abdomen and leaned over while sitting on his bed. “Or maybe you do want today, until tomorrow you change your mind again.”

“Os, I’m so sorry.” Alan was going to comfort him and love him and do everything he could. “I want to convince you. I know I haven’t been good to you today, recently, ever. But I want to vow to you.”

Os laughed wryly, while rocking back and forth on his bed, holding his abdomen. “Your vows are worthless,” Os muttered, holding his abdomen tightly.

“Os. I know I don’t look in the right and I don’t look trustworthy. But I’m vowing to you right now. I’m going to do everything I can. I want to father this baby with you. I want to be your partner and your mated alpha and your husband and your lover.”

“I know you want to. But the next thing you say is going to be that you want to but you can’t, because you also want to keep your job. Right?”

“You’re remarkably intelligent, Os.”

“Ah yes, trying to win an argument by flattering your adversary.”

“Os. You’re not my adversary. And you’re really remarkably intelligent. And well-spoken. And I love you and I want to father this baby with you. I just have one request.”

“Oh, this will be good. I’m waiting to hear this request.” Os smirked cynically.

“I’m just asking, Os. That for the remainder of the school year, for the next eight months, until May, we keep your pregnancy a secret. We keep all this a secret. Just until May.”

“And in May, what? The baby inside me turns into a pumpkin?”

“No. In May the school year is over and if the university doesn’t like our relationship, I can resign quietly, without disgrace. I have a standing job offer from OmegaCheck, the pregnancy test company.”

“It’s pretty ironic—” Os laughed.

“Yeah, it is. Anyway, I have a standing job offer from OmegaCheck. I can just not come back to teach at Springville State next year. That’s fine. But if we’re discovered during the school year — I just don’t want the huge mess, the disgrace.”

“You’d give up teaching here to go work at OmegaCheck?” Os was still rocking back and forth on his bed. “I thought teaching is pretty much your life.”

“It was my life. Now fatherhood is going to be my life.” Alan had always wanted a baby. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so suddenly. Or to happen with a student. “And if the university doesn’t want an alpha professor who’s raising a baby with an omega student, it’s their loss.”

“You’d give it up for our baby and family? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It’s my duty. I love you. And it’s also — remember the term you used, what you said to me? It’s my biological imperative. So it’s also my biological imperative to be a husband and father together with you.”

“Really? And with all the horny omegas and betas who want your dick, are you sure you want to stay with me? A scrawny little freshman who’s nothing special?” Os’s sad eyes proved he wasn’t joking or looking for compliments.

“Os. Don’t put yourself down.”

“I’m not putting myself down. I’m just realistic.”

“Os. Think about it. In all my time at Springville State, I’ve never gotten involved with anybody. Think about all the opportunities I’ve been given. And I never took them. Until I met you.”

“It’s like a fantasy. I mean it makes me feel special. It makes me kind of loopy.”

“Maybe you’re just loopy from the pregnancy.” Alan smiled at Os. Then he took the initiative to sit down on the bed next to Os and put his arm around him.

“I want to tell you that I don’t want you.” Os looked down into his lap and shook his head as he talked. “But I do want you. I want everything you talked about. Being together. Being fathers together. I just want it to be real.”

“Os.” Alan hugged Os with both arms. Now Os felt substantial in Alan’s arms, full of brains and muscle and adult sexuality, no longer a mousy freshman. Having seen Os hold his own must’ve also made him somehow seem physically more imposing. Alan planted a soft, wet, kiss on Os’s jawbone, below his ear. Os opened his mouth wide and reciprocated, first kissing Alan’s jaw, then up to his mouth.

Os straddled Alan’s lap on the bed and gently nudged him to lie back. Then he sat on Alan’s crotch, smiled triumphantly, and leaned down to kiss Alan, with his tongue out. Alan stuck his erect tongue out in response. Their tongues met in the air like a joust. Alan sucked on Os’s tongue, then kissed Os deeply, his tongue exploring Os’s mouth again, and wanting him more than ever.

“I really want this to be real, Professor Archer, Alan.” Os sat back up and surveyed his own dorm room from atop Alan.

“It’s real. I’m sorry that I just want a bit of help from you saving my job, for the rest of the school year just keep everything under wraps —” Alan patted Os’s stomach just on top of his own stomach “— I mean I guess literally under wraps.”

“I can do that. For us. For our family. For our baby.” Os sighed slightly. He was entitled to sigh. Being pregnant was difficult enough; hiding it would be even more difficult. Alan knew full well. But he just needed a few months.

“I appreciate it. Our baby will appreciate it. It’s for us. For our family. And it’s real, Os. It’s really for real. I promise.”

“I hope.” Os shrugged slightly and rested his hands on Alan’s pecs, gently fondling Alan’s nipples through his plaid flannel shirt. “I hope.”

“It is.” It was all Alan could say. Because there was nothing more to say about his commitment to Os, and because he couldn’t talk quite well with his nipples being driven to ecstasy.

“Will you marry me to make me more secure?” Os discontinued the nipple-tweaking when asking that elephant of a question.

“Oooh.” Alan groaned. It was a difficult question, one he’d already considered. “No. Not until May, when we go public. In May, of course we should get married. Before then, you know, marriage records are public information, there’s the newspapers, and anyway, marriage clerks gossip like hell.”

“So I just have to trust you, purely on your word, until May? Trust you after your stunning series of 180-degree reversals in the past 24 hours?”

“Yeah. You’ll just have to trust me. I’m sorry. Do it for our family.” Alan rest his hands on Os’s hips.

“I think I can do that.” Os leaned down and kissed Alan’s cheek again. “And can I ask you to do something for me?” Os asked.

“Yeah? Your grade in my class? You’re getting an A+ without any special favors from me.”

“Nope. Not that.” Os smiled, then patted his crotch, that was sitting on Alan’s own crotch. “Pregnant guys get very horny from day one. Very horny. I’m sure you can smell the pheromones in this room.”

“I’ve been trying not to notice the pheromones, but yes, I can definitely smell the pheromones. It’s like a Bloomingdale’s perfume counter on Valentine’s Day.”

“I don’t quite get the analogy, but—”

“On Valentine’s Day, at Bloomingdale’s they’re selling a lot of perfume, a lot of samples being sprayed in the air.” Alan nodded helpfully.

“I get the analogy, Alan. You don’t need to explain to me what Valentine’s Day is.” Os shook his head again, assuming again the position of an annoyed professor talking to his intransigent charge. “Anyway. I was saying. I want you to do something for me. Related to my erection.”

“You want to—”

“I’m too exhausted from the first day of my pregnancy. I don’t want to do actual buttfucking.” Os held his abdomen again.

Without saying anything in response, Alan reached to Os’s pants zipper and slid it down. That was his response. Then he unbuttoned and partly pulled down Os’s pants.

“Take off your jeans so you can sit on my face. I wanna suck your dick.”

“Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Getting my dick sucked is going to be a regular thing now?” Os grinned.

“I think so. I’m your alpha mate, right? It has to be a regular thing for my precious omega.” Alan sat up slightly and smelled Os’s neck and his face. The more Alan smelled Os the more he wanted him. The more he looked at him the more he wanted him. The more he touched him the more he wanted him. “I’m always happy to make oral love to your cock. Especially if you’re pregnant and not up for me making love to your ass.”

“I never expected this from my professor.” Os grinned. There was that cheeky omega naughtiness again. “And make oral love to your cock, so polite!” Os wiggled on top of Alan slightly, then raised himself up on his knees and pulled down his jeans and briefs just enough for his dick to pop out. The precum smell from Os’s dickhead filled the room on top of the omega pheromones that were already driving Alan wild.

“No, I want your pants completely off.” Alan was whispering slightly. He was fooling around with his pregnant male student in a dorm room. He wasn’t exactly being discreet about anything. But he still insisted on whispering, just in case. “I wanna suck your balls and deepthroat your cock. Same as you did for me.”

Os faux-gasped and covered his mouth as if he were shocked. “Such language!” Then he giggled and pulled off his pants and underwear completely.

Os’s thick cock was definitely impressively sized, especially for an omega. Even an alpha would’ve been proud of that dick. And the way it stood in erect in the middle of Os’s sparse, closely trimmed light brown pubes was adorable. The sparse pubes emphasized Os’s freshness and virginity, but the size of the dick was a reminder that Os was all mature.

Os was the perfect fresh college omega: nineteen years young, but old enough to be able to sexually please even his horny professor. Alan couldn’t deny having fantasized about hot college omegas — but even Alan himself had never expected that any portion of those fantasies would become real.

Alan cupped Os’s ass cheeks and pulled Os toward his own face, sitting Os on top of his face. Alan opened his mouth wide and Os’s balls popped in. Firm and meaty, they were like squishy meatballs, with just a bit of bounce, and a thin coat of fuzz like a kiwi fruit. That and the musk — the musk from them was unbelievable. It was pheromones mixed with a bit of crotch sweat and it made Alan unbelievably horny. Alan could feast on those balls all day. He was in Os’s dorm room, on a cramped dorm bed, and with a graduate seminar to teach later that afternoon, he didn’t exactly have all day. But Os’s balls were delicious.

Alan reached out and held Os’s hands in his own hands while he serviced Os from underneath. Alan sucked and slurped and lightly chewed on the balls while listening to Os’s pleased nineteen-year-old-omega moans. Os was grinding himself deeper into Alan’s mouth.

The sound of Os’s pleasure was music to Alan’s ears. He could’ve recorded that sound of Os’s guttural moans and listened to it every day. But as Os’s mate and future husband, he’d be hearing Os’s moans every day anyway.

Alan lifted Os up slightly, then started at Os’s taint: first a few light licks to warm him up, then firm probing with his tongue, getting at Os’s prostate from the outside. Os whimpered in pleasure and randomly grabbed at Alan’s body while Alan serviced him.

Then the main event: Alan lifted Os up again, puckered his own lips in the shape of a tight asshole, licked them to lubricate, then lowered Os’s shaft into his puckered lips. He held his lips tight. He wanted to make Os’s dick work at getting inside. He pushed Os’s cockhead firmly against his wet lips until it pried them apart and the entire cockshaft slid into Alan’s mouth.

Alan sucked hard. Os’s cock tasted like fresh omega precum and the musk of a pregnant man. Alan flicked his tongue on Os’s dickhead and Os howled in pleasure, then immediately covered his mouth. Os remembered that they were in the dorm better than Alan did.

Os started gyrating atop Alan’s face, face-fucking Alan’s mouth, pumping into hm. Os looked down at Alan below him and smiled. “Can I fuck your throat?” Alan said “mmm hmm” and nodded as best he could with Os’s dick filling his mouth.

Omegas were famous for bottoming, but this omega freshman could fuck Alan’s mouth like the nastiest top. He got the right angle and was ramming his dick into Alan, past his lips, right over his tongue, and all the way to his throat. His professor’s throat. Alan didn’t even want to gag. He only enjoyed the feeling of that omega dickhead on the back of his throat. My student’s dick is down my throat, Alan kept reminding himself. The idea of it — and the reality of it — was incredibly scary and incredibly hot.

Os glanced down at Alan and grinned mischievously. “Professor Archer, I’d like to ask a question.” Alan only hummed and nodded in response. “Professor Archer, may I cum in your mouth?” Alan hummed and nodded again and sucked harder. He wanted Os’s cum not only in his mouth but deep down his throat, deep inside him.

Os drew his dick out slightly, while still looking into Alan’s eyes and smiling. Then Os shoved his dick in as it throbbed in orgasm. Alan embraced his lover’s dick tighter in his mouth. A gob of cum shot into Alan’s mouth. Creamy warm ooze. It was sweeter than cum usually was. Maybe Os’s youth made his cum sweeter. Alan swallowed. Another gob of cum splattered into the back of Alan’s mouth. Alan swallowed again. Delicious. Alan moaned tos how his appreciation. Os smiled mischievously again, slowly throat-fucking Alan while releasing his last squirts of nectar deep into his beloved professor.

Alan pulled his head away from Os’s dick, making sure to slurp all the cum off of it. He held Os’s deflating dick in his fingers as he pulled it out of his mouth and sucked all the cum off of it. No drop was unaccounted for. All of Os’s cum went into Alan’s mouth and down his throat.

Alan looked up at Os again, plaintively. “Do you believe my devotion to you?”

“Maybe.” Os sighed. “Right now, I’m just exhausted. Mind if I lie down?”

“It’s your dorm room, Oswald.” Alan laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. He slid over to the edge of the bed, and Os lay down next to him.

Alan reached out with his right hand and patted Os’s pregnant belly. He imagined a baby kicking inside: their baby. It was much too early, but he liked to imagine. He sat up, leaned down, and kissed Os’s abdomen through his shirt.

“That’s our baby in there,” Alan said, smiling.

“Only an embryo so far, Professor Archer, but yeah.” Os leaned his head in toward Alan and planted a kiss on Alan’s nose.

“Always the smartass start student correcting the professor. Even in bed.” Alan looked at his beautiful, pregnant boyfriend. Oswald’s gray eyes signaled not only love but maturity. Os seemed to have already taken on a fatherly sort of gravity since finding out he was pregnant.

“I already gave you some of my wisdom, deep down my throat.” Os looked at Alan and bit his lower lip. Alan could only think of the amazing musky, salty taste of his student’s cum. “The Romans thought a man’s wisdom is transmitted in his semen. Did you know that?”

“I did know that, Os. It’s impressive that you know that, though.”

“So you think I’m good enough, smart enough, for you, a full-fledged genius professor of human reproduction, to stay with as a husband?” Os’s face signaled a tinge of sarcasm, but only a tinge. This was a serious question for the most part, Alan could tell.

“Os. I never even questioned whether you’re good enough. Even if you didn’t know that the word seminar is related to the word semen, you would still be good enough. I would want to be your mate, your husband, your co-father.”

“And I should trust that?” Os sighed slightly.

“I know I killed my credibility with you.” Alan didn’t want to endure another verbal lashing about it. It was better to just jump in and attempt to clear the air. “I know. Time is the only way I can prove it to you. Stick with me and let me prove it to you.”

“We’re fathers together,” Os said. “So I guess I have no choice. We’ve gotta stick together.”

Alan turned to his side and put his arms out to make a cradle for Os. Os slid into it. Alan wrapped his arms around Os’s back. Then he did the same with his legs, wrapping them around Os’s legs. “I love you,” he whispered into Os’s ear. “Because I want to love you, because I feel love for you, not because we have no choice.”

Os brought his lips to Alan’s lips again. He gave Alan a small chaste kiss. “I love you too. Can you put your hands on our baby again?” Os lay back on his back and stretched out.

Alan moved both his palms down and laid them flat on Os’s abdomen. “I love our baby,” he told Os.

“As soon as I hit puberty,” Os said, “I was constantly thinking about becoming a father. I knew I was an omega, and I kind of didn’t like how that was supposed to make me a bimbo, but I badly wanted to have a baby, like a real omega. That was really why I signed up for your class: to learn more about how it all works, omega pregnancy.” Os put his own hands on top of Alan’s hands, then put his fingers through Alan’s fingers. Their hands were interlocked, together with the pregnant belly that held their baby.

“We’re going to be fathers together, Os. It’s what I’ve always wanted. And you can trust me.”

“I hope so. I hope I can trust you,” Os said, slowly patting his pregnant belly in circles.

Six

Os woke up suddenly. It felt like the middle of the night. He was entirely exhausted, not at all rested. His shirt was soaked through with sweat. When his feet hit the floor, he realized how pained and swollen his feet were. His ankles were swollen and felt like arthritis. He waddled more than walked. University-logo-emblazoned soft bunny slippers were part of the care packs given to pregnant omegas, but of course Os couldn’t come out and announce that he was pregnant. No free bunny slippers for Os.

Os’s most pressing need: his stomach was coming up slowly through his throat. Ever since he’d become pregnant, it was like his stomach didn’t agree with any other part of his body. The morning vomiting felt like rejecting a foreign body, often the same foreign body that had tasted like a delicious dinner the previous night. Just as he did on many a morning, that morning Os badly needed to throw up.

He jogged-waddled-walked to the toilet and threw up. Tons. It wasn’t the first time he’d thrown up in the morning when pregnant, but that morning was especially bad. He was emptying out his stomach over and over into the toilet. He ran the tap water rinsed off his face and rinsed out his mouth. His head pounded in pain and he wanted to go back to sleep.

Back in bed, he was still sick, but he could try to sleep for a few more hours and try to feel better. The midterm exam in Archer’s class was at 9 A.M. It must have been around 4 A.M. at that point. Four more hours of sleep would help. He glanced at his phone. It was already 8:30 A.M. In thirty minutes he was supposed to be at his desk in Archer’s class, wearing a big hoodie or zipped-up windbreaker to cover his pregnant belly, writing midterm exam essays about embryos and cell division. He couldn’t rest for even a minute more if he was going to make it to that midterm on time.

But his ankles would have none of it. His nausea would have one of it. His pounding head especially objected.

The same phone that bore the bad news about the time would also let Os contact Alan to try to remedy the situation. Os lay on his back and pressed the speed-dial icon with Alan’s beautiful face.

“Hey Os,” Alan answered. His voice was casual and relaxed. But Alan wasn’t the one who was pregnant, and Alan wasn’t the one who’d have to be taking a midterm in half an hour. “How are you doing?”

“Throwing up. Barely standing. Ankles in pain. Other than that, nothing new.”

“I’m really sorry,” Alan said

“Two months pregnant. It’s normal. You probably already know that, Professor Archer.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m still sorry to hear when it’s happening to my mate.”

“So I need to ask you actually, as your student, not as your mate: I need to postpone this exam. I need to take a pregnancy exam deferral.” As one of its famous omega-friendly policies, Springville State allowed any pregnant student to defer any exam until a later day within the following two weeks.

“We can’t let the administration know you’re pregnant.” Alan didn’t even consider or hesitate before barking out that decision. It was as if he’d been waiting for that point all along, and had his directive ready.

“But I am pregnant. And I need to postpone the exam. I really don’t care about your secret games with the administration. The fact is I’m pregnant, Alan, Professor Archer.” Did he really have to explain this? To someone who was not only his professor, not only a professor of human reproduction, but also the actual father of the actual baby?

“So you don’t care about me keeping my job?” Alan snapped back. It was a meaningless retort, a cheap shot, but it still stung.

“Of course I care about you. I’m just trying to use the exam deferral available to every pregnant student at Springville State. Every student except me, it seems.”

“Os.” Alan was now clearly standing somewhere and whispering into his phone. “We can’t let anyone know you’re pregnant. Especially when people see you hanging around with me. Especially since you’re not publicly mated. Os, I don’t want to be disgraced as a professor.”

“Ok, so I should be disgraced as a student, fail the midterm, because I can’t use the pregnancy deferral that I am explicitly permitted to use?” It was easier for Os to talk down to Alan when he could just close his eyes and talk, instead of having to see Alan’s simultaneously beautiful and terrifying face staring at him.

“Let me figure something out.” Alan sounded exasperated.

“No. Alan. Professor Archer. I don’t want any kind of faking or forging or fudging my exam. I don’t believe in that, and I don’t want my face in the newspaper for academic fraud.”

“And I don’t want my face in the newspaper for impregnating my student!” Alan’s voice was genuinely angry now.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have impregnated your student, Mister PhD? Did they ever teach you that skill at Harvard, of keeping your dick in your pants if you couldn’t live with the consequences?” Os didn’t even know where the words were coming from within him, but those strong words were flying out with such force that he was singularly impressed with himself. He was no powerless squeaky omega bimbo.

“Ok. Os.” Alan was pausing. He’d obviously been pushed into a corner by Os. That was a triumph. “Os. How about this. How about I grant you a medical extension. No reason stated, just medical. It’s not the automatic pregnancy extension done by the university, but a professor can give a medical extension based on professorial discretion. Ok?”

It would have to do. It was a little bit shady. It wasn’t as nice and automatic as the pregnancy extension. But it would have to serve as a compromise, in a situation where Os was sure he had really no reason to compromise. He was just trying to use a university benefit that he was entitled to, and that Alan was trying to prevent him from using. Anyway, Os just wanted to get back to sleep, not argue the fine points.

“Ok, Alan. Professor Archer. Please grant me the medical extension. For unspecified medical reasons. Thanks. I’ll contact you later to schedule a make-up appointment to take the exam.”

“Can you send me an email to that effect, please? To my university email address.”

“Yes, Professor.” Os could play along. And Alan did have a job and a reputation to protect. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable of him to expect some discretion from Os — as Os knew just as well as Alan did, their relationship was highly inappropriate in the eyes of the University, at least while Os was still his student.

“I’ll come see you after class, ok?”

“Here? In my dorm?”

“Yeah. Unless you have some other location in mind.”

“I just think — I mean maybe I’m the paranoid one here, Professor Archer — but I just think maybe it’s not good that you’re seen visiting your student’s room on the regular. Once was ok but when people see you constantly coming here, it’s weird.” Weird was an understatement. Even one visit was beyond weird if people started asking too many questions. Archer must’ve been to Alan’s dorm room a good ten times already, always sneaking in and out late at night or midday when everybody was away in class.

“I’ve been thinking about the same thing. I think I’ve got a solution. Let me tell you about it when I come over around noon, ok?”

“Does it involve an invisibility cloak? Mustache and glasses? Santa beard?” Os laughed to himself. With every laugh, his abdomen hurt more, so he tried to restrain his laughs. That wasn’t quite effective either.

“I’ll explain when I get there. Get some sleep for three hours, ok? Set an alarm for noon when I come over.”

“Your word is my command, alpha Professor Alan Archer!”

“Whatever. See you at noon. Go sleep now. I gotta go administer the exam.” There was a sound of class building hallways and student chatter. Alan clicked off the phone.

Os lay in bed on his left side. He’d trained himself to always get into that sleeping position. He did sometimes allow himself a cheat night sleeping on his back. Either way, he slept alone, other than the times he and Alan fell asleep for a few minutes when cuddling in Os’s dorm bed.

Os drifted to sleep. He dreamed he was in his dorm room, doing a problem set at his desk, and a beautiful newborn baby sat next to him. The baby’s hair was light blond like Archer’s, eyes bright blue like Archer’s. And the baby cooed quietly every few seconds while Os peacefully worked on his homework.

Even in the dream, Os knew that real babies weren’t like that. Real babies pee and poo and scream and keep their fathers up all night. But it was a nice relaxing dream. That baby was to real babies what teddy bears were to real bears.

Suddenly there were two babies on his desk. One on the right, one on the left. They cooed in unison. They were the cutest babies ever. Except Os wasn’t sure if both were his. He tried to remember whether he’d been pregnant a second time, whether he’d delivered that second baby. He couldn’t even remember delivering the first baby. Confusing.

Then an alarm rang. A loud alarm. Os woke up. There were no babies in his room. It must’ve been his roommate’s phone, because it didn’t sound like Os’s phone alarm. But it was too loud for that. And it was coming from everywhere. And a light was flashing on the side of the building. The alarm was coming from outside more than from next door.

Os managed the few steps to the window, puffy ankles and sore feet and all. He looked outside. It was the whole dorm building that was sounding an alarm. The dorm building’s security lights were all flashing and security sirens were ringing everywhere.

And there he saw Alan. His own Alan. Professor Archer. Alan was crouch-scurrying around the side of the building, to the front door. Guessing on Alan’s path of travel, Os could only deduce that Alan had tried to climb up the fire escape.

Every year, some unlucky freshman who hadn’t been listening at dorm orientation found out that the dorm fire escapes were indeed alarmed. If someone used them when the fire alarm wasn’t sounding, the building-wide security alarm would sound. It was usually a drunken freshman trying to be clever trying to get back to his room surreptitiously.

This time, seemingly, it was the esteemed Professor Archer, trying to get to Os’s room undetected. Os could only hope that no one saw Archer, or he wasn’t recorded on security camera. The cops would probably show up soon. Luckily, a professor would be the last person they’d suspect of such shenanigans, even if in fact that professor was the first person they should suspect.

Os unlocked his dorm room door and calmly waited for Alan to arrive. He peeked outside to the hallway, and there he saw Alan — still crouch-walking, resembling a cat burglar. Os shook his head, opened his door for Alan, then closed the door and locked it.

“Is that your new plan for being discreet, Professor Archer? Sneaking up the fire escape?”

“How did you know that was me?”

“Um, because I saw you?” Os shook his head again and laughed, then gripped his swollen belly again.

“That’s actually not my plan on how to be discreet.” Alan shook his head. He was covered in sweat and smelled like the musky alpha that he was. “But I did it because I was thinking about how often I’ve been seen going up to your room. Way too many times. So I thought I’d use the fire escape this time. More discreet. Your room window is right over the fire escape, you know.”

“I’m well aware of the location of my room window.” Os said it mock-seriously, with a wide-open smile. He waited for Alan’s lips to meet his smile with a kiss. Alan leaned in toward him and did exactly that. This gorgeous chiseled, muscular man was kissing Os right in his dorm room, and he loved it.

“Ok. You shouldn’t be standing too much when you’re pregnant. Let’s sit on your bed for a bit and discuss.”

“Is that your scheme to get me in bed, Professor?” Os sat down on his bed.

“I already got you into bed, remember?” Alan sat next to Os and lightly embraced Os’s back with his right arm. He patted Os’s pregnant belly with his left hand.

“You got me into bed several times,” Os said, correcting his professor. His head was pounding, actually, after a night’s poor sleep and an only halfway decent late-morning nap. But he could still make a friendly quip at his favorite alpha.

“And maybe you even remember it several times,” Alan said.

“I remember our interludes whenever I jack off, which is pretty often with how horny my pregnancy makes me at the weirdest times.” Os made a jacking-off hand gesture for emphasis.

“I’m glad you put our encounters into the wank bank.”

“As a shy, lonely omega, I’m an expert masturbator. I’m a VIP customer at the wank bank.”

“Anyway.” Alan cleared his throat, like a professor about to deliver a lecture. “I just realized that you should move in with me.”

“Move in with you?” Os was saying it for his own benefit. Hearing himself say it, he imagined an idyllic life together with Alan, even if the idea of living with Alan seemed too good to be real.

“Then we could spend time together without me having to sneak here. And I could take care of you while you’re pregnant.”

“Really?” It seemed like Alan was offering too much. Yes, he and Alan were boyfriends and mates and co-fathers-to-be. Yes, it wasn’t unusual for boyfriends, especially ones expecting a baby together, to move in together. But Alan actually inviting Os to live with him sounded like an extravagant gesture.

“Really. My house isn’t big, but it’s plenty of room for the two of us. And for the baby.”

“Seriously?” Os couldn’t help but smile — with joy, not any kind of ironic snark.

“Seriously. Were you ever doubting that? I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear that was always my plan.”

“Well, after your turnarounds, you know.” Os didn’t want to rehash or relitigate. Alan already had to know full well what he was referring to. “I appreciate that you’re telling me explicitly.”

“I always tell you explicitly.” Alan grinned like a teenage lecher.

“How old are you again, Professor Archer?” The joke about explicitly sounded like something Os would’ve said when he was sixteen. But he was now nineteen, a whole three years more mature.

“Um, thirty-nine, officially. Sometimes feel more like nineteen though.” Alan appeared either genuinely bashful or trying to play bashful.

“Right. I thought so. On both counts. Anyway, I really appreciate you telling me these things. Because I was actually wondering where I’d live once I had the baby. I don’t think I can raise a secret baby in the dorm.”

“Os. I love you.” Alan slipped off his shoes. He swung both his legs up onto the bed, then folded his legs. Alan embraced Os with both arms. His hug was tight and safe. Alan’s body was warm; even his arms were warm. Alan lay his head in the crook of Os’s neck. Alan’s scholarly midday stubble felt like a scratchy sweater on Os’s neck.

“Just love our baby. That’s the most important for me.” Os wanted Alan’s love, but ultimately, he could live without it. He wouldn’t be happy but he’d survive. But he didn’t want his child to be without love.

“Os. I love you. I love our baby. I’m going to offer my resignation to the university this summer if they interfere with my focus on you and the baby.”

“And until summer? While I’m pregnant? And while I’m still your student? And I’m supposed to be living with you?”

“Well, I’m sorry if this is kind of direct, Os, but, here in the dorm, you’re not exactly Mister Popular, are you?”

“Only if your definition of Mister Popular is not knowing anybody and not having any friends and always keeping to myself in my room, watching birth videos on OmegaTube.”

“Yeah, I thought so. So if you’re spending nights at my house, nobody’s really going to notice, will they?”

“I guess not.”

“And you won’t have to keep it a secret that you’re throwing up every morning and you have swollen ankles and so on. Even in your classes — I don’t think your classmates really care or know, do they?”

“I’m not exactly the hot topic of gossip, no.”

“So if you live with me, you don’t even hide your baby belly that much. That’s going to get more difficult, as you probably already know.”

“Yeah, I’m getting tired of wearing XL-size hoodies every day, and I’m only starting my third month of pregnancy.”

“I’m sorry for all this. I’m sorry you can’t be proudly pregnant, like all the other pregnant omegas I see on campus. I’m sorry.”

“I understand, I think.” Os did understand. He didn’t find it pleasant, but he understood. “We all have to make sacrifices. I can keep the pregnancy under wraps. And then I can be a proud father after the birth.”

“Fatherhood is the important part anyway.” Alan squeezed Os’s shoulders gently. It actually felt amazing. Os moaned slightly.

“Can I help you pack your stuff? I can drive you over to my house right now. And you can sleep in a big bed and not have to deal with this tiny dorm room.”

“I feel so pampered. And I love it.”

“Well, you’re the pregnant omega here.” Alan picked up the big empty duffel bag on the floor and started putting Os’s clothes into it.

“I actually don’t have that much stuff. But I really appreciate it.”

“Anyway, you’ll still have this room. You can always come back and get stuff from it.”

“As a waddling pregnant man.” Os pantomimed the motion of an overburdened pregnant man duck-waddling. “But yeah. I can always come back to get anything we forget today.”

“I think what I got so far is good enough, isn’t it?” Alan took a cloth shopping bag and put a stack of Os’s textbooks into it. “Just grab your laptop and iPad into your backpack and we’re good.”

“Done! My backpack is already packed. For the class I couldn’t manage to get to today.”

Alan took the duffel bag in his right hand and put Os’s heavy backpack on his right. They stepped out of the room together, maybe for the last time. Os locked the door behind him, and it felt like locking the door to a previous life.

They took the elevator down. Os had been remembering to give up his preference for stairs while he was pregnant.

He and Alan stepped out of the elevator into the dorm lobby. Alan’s silver Camry was parked in front of the dorm, a few steps away. Os could visualize Alan’s prior path: from the Camry to the fire escape, back down the fire escape, slinking around the edge of the building, and into the lobby and up to Os’s room. Alan Archer, cat burglar extraordinaire.

In the lobby, the dorm janitor pointed at Alan. A campus security guard emerged. Some kind of student journalist emerged along with the guard, clicking away at Alan and Os with her all-seeing DSLR.

“Sir, was that you trying to go up the dorm fire escape today?” the campus security officer asked Alan.

Alan’s immediate response: “No.” That was pretty impressive, that his immediate, visceral reaction to such a question would be to firmly, blatantly lie. Maybe os would be the same when he was thirty-nine.

“That was definitely him,” the janitor said, pointing his whole hand at Alan, like a fist. The poodle-haired student journalist was still standing nearby. She hadn’t had the good sense to run away and cover something less personal than Alan and Os’s dorm trysts.

“I’m sorry.” Os took the initiative. He was the only person there with the presence of mind to pull Alan out of the sticky situation. “I was feeling really unwell this morning. I called Professor Archer for a medical extension on my midterm. And I felt so sick that Professor Archer thought it was an emergency and he should check on me. He through the fire escape would be the fastest way up. I’m sorry. Professor Archer already apologized to me for the mistake. And he’s about to drive me to the hospital.”

“Which hospital?” the student journalist asked with a knowing half-grin. Her dark curly locks made her resemble Howard Stern. She was waiting for the answer MPreg Hospital. Os wouldn’t give that to her.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, asking personal questions like that.” Os knew to rush in in when there was an opening. “Do your readers really need to know which hospital I’m going to when I’m sick?”

The journalist only looked into her camera screen and tried to look busy. Maybe she was embarrassed. Or at least scared away.

“We’re not looking to put anybody in jail,” the campus security officer said. “I was just trying to figure out what happened, why the fire escape alarm was triggered, and why it wasn’t the usual drunk freshman but a grown man. And now I find out it’s a professor.”

“Wacky professor,” Os said. “Takes all kinds, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Os made the first move to walk for the exit. He did the best not to look like a pregnant man. He held himself upright and walked casually without the slightest hint of a waddle or wobble. His ankles were swollen and hurt but he acted like they were the world’s strongest, freshest ankles, ankles whose owner had never, ever been pregnant.

Alan followed him out the door. Nobody tried to stop them.  Alan-remote unlocked his Camry. They were safe inside the car.

Alan breathed and sighed deeply. “You saved me out there.” It was true. Os knew it even without Alan needing to say it. But Os still loved hearing it. He cared for Alan, and he loved hearing it confirmed that he, the nineteen-year-old pipsqueak, was capable of contributing something to the relationship, and protecting his man in some capacity. That and it helped him tell himself that being an omega wasn’t just being a useless pipsqueak or breeding receptacle as some omega-detractors would put it.

Os was his own man. He was Alan’s man too. But most importantly, Os was his own man.

“We’re still gonna be in the campus newspaper,” Os said to Alan to remind him that the fire escape wouldn’t be entirely erased.

“What do you think they’ll say?” Alan asked as he shifted his car into gear and pulled out of the dorm parking lot.

“They have no reason to say I’m pregnant,” Os said.

“But they do have some reason to suspect a relationship between me and my student, don’t they?” Alan sighed and pulled onto a heavily wooded two-lane road adjacent to campus. Without a car at his disposal, Os hadn’t even explored the area around campus. He had no idea where he was.

“Yeah, that was the next thing I was going to say. They might start talking to people, find someone who’s seen you visiting me in the dorm before. Depending on how much effort they put into this thing.”

“And how much effort do you think that will be?” Alan asked.

“The good thing and the bad thing about student reporters is they have a lot of time,” Os said. He didn’t even know where he’d come up with that observation. Just being around Alan was making Os sound like a wise adult.

“Seriously, Os, I can’t imagine any of my other freshman students talking the way you talk. Wise beyond your years and all that.” Alan clicked the car’s sunroof to open wide. Fiery-colored autumn trees passed above them.

“Especially when I tell my professor to suck my dick, right?” Os held his hands high up in the air through the open sunroof. The fall air was brisk without being cold. Os felt like he was celebrating the dick-sucking. More realistically, he was celebrating newfound love, newfound fatherhood, newfound stability.

Alan slowed the car and made a sharp right turn. Ahead was a long, leafy driveway. The gate at the front said Archer and, appropriately enough, a metal engraving of an archer stood out from the brickwork.

“Is that, like, an Archer family crest?” Os asked. He’d seen stuff like that in books about British aristocrats and maybe in movies about the Kennedys or Rockefellers or something. He’d never seen anything like it in person.

“Ah. Something like that. Yeah. You don’t get a house like this in Springville on a professor salary. I was my parents’ only child and they moved into an apartment last year, so here I am, or here I was, living here all alone.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all Os knew to say.

“Sorry about me living here all alone?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t sound fun.” Os cringed at how childish that sounded. But it was true. Living in a big house all alone really didn’t sound fun.

“I don’t live alone anymore. Starting right now, I don’t,” Alan said matter-of-factly. He smiled at Os in a way that told Os just how special Os was to him. Alan extended his arm out to the passenger seat and gently lay his hand on Os’s pregnant belly. He clicked the garage-door button in the visor and drove into the house’s garage.

“The only thing maybe you can feel sorry about is that carrying the Archer name means a lot of, you know, expectations, old society stuff. My parents aren’t the most free-spirited people.”

“Lots of pressure?”

“Sure.” Alan chuckled. He must’ve been running through his mental catalog of all his parental pressure.

“But you’re a professor. You have a perfect life. How can they complain?” Os couldn’t imagine anyone with a life as perfect as Alan. He had it all.

“Ah, they’d want me to be a professor at Harvard, not at Springville State. And some other stuff. Just some other stuff. Anyway, don’t worry about it.” Alan waved away the concern and opened his door, to go help Os out of the car.

Os could have well gotten out of the car under his own power, but he wanted to feel Alan supporting him and leading him. He waited for Alan to come around to the passenger side. Os only unbuckled his seat belt and waited. Alan was the perfect alpha Os had always hoped for: this perfect alpha opened the passenger-side door, extended his arm, and led Os arm-in-arm the five steps from the car to the door into the house.

Inside, the house was professorial. It was exactly how Os would’ve imagined a professor’s house, if professors made more money. It was the sort of house that wore a tweed jacket, shopped at Trader Joe’s, and drove a Volvo, if houses drove cars. It wasn’t ostentatious, but it was nice. And with all the leaf cover around the house, Os had a childish instinctive belief that Alan’s house would be a good place to hide his pregnancy for the world.

“So I can be a relaxed pregnant man in this huge house, which you earlier said isn’t all that big?” Os circled around the living room under his own power, admiring the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto the wooded front and back yards.

“No, not quite.” Alan suddenly reached with left arm under Os’s legs and his right arm under Os’s back, and lifted Os up completely off the ground. Alan cradled him as he’d cradle a nearly-six-foot-tall baby. Os had never had that feeling before, maybe not since he was an actual baby. Even if Os wasn’t that small, Alan was big enough to comfortably carry him. “Not quite, because the bedroom is where my beloved pregnant man should rest.”

Now Alan was the one duck-walking, under Os’s weight. Floor boards slightly squeaked under Alan’s professorial feet. He carried Os down the hallway, through an old wooden doorway. Alan brought him into a huge, airy bedroom, and lay him back on a bed. It was the biggest bed Os had ever been in, but his only comparison points were his kid-sized bed back at his parents’ house, and his cramped dorm-room bed, so maybe he was no expert on big beds. But this bed was definitely big.

“Check this out,” Alan said, and disappeared into the bathroom. “I’ve got a towel steamer.” Alan re-emerged from the bathroom with a small plastic laundry basket.

“Are those hot towels?” Os asked.

“Yeah. Never had the chance before—” Alan put the towel basket down on the floor at Os’s feet.

“Smells like wood and herbs or something?” The towels were steaming. Os still wasn’t getting exactly the purpose.

“Supposed to be fresh pine and rosemary. These scent cartridges I put in the thing, and my steamed towels come out whatever scent I want.”

“Got anchovy and peanut butter? Kind of what I feel like right now.”

“No, Mister Pregnant Man Food Cravings. But I can bring you an anchovy and peanut butter pizza for dinner today.”

“That’s an actual possibility?” Os couldn’t control how immature he sounded when he said that. But he really wanted to know whether that was a possibility.

“Remember, Omega Pizza near MPreg Hospital? The place where I got you bacon-and-mango pizza?”

“Oh yeah. Right. Omega Pizza. I’m almost embarrassed that the place exists. But then I’m glad. Really glad.”

“So, back to the steamed towels,” Alan said.

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Can I offer you a hot towel wrap for your tired feet?” Standing at the base of the bed, Alan grabbed Os’s two feet with his two hands. “And no, I’ve never said that to anybody else. I do hot towel wraps for my feet after standing up all day. And I’m not even pregnant.” Alan squeezed and massaged Os’s feet. Os was slipping off into half-asleep bliss.

“Yeah. You can put hot towels on my feet. And you’ll massage them after that, right?” Os was half-smiling, half-joking, half-serious. Having this gorgeous man massaging his feet seemed like a fairytale dream, but Os knew that here with Alan, it was very much possible.

“Of course I’ll massage your feet after that.” Alan took one steaming hot towel and wrapped it around Os’s left foot, then the other steaming hot towel on the right foot. It felt like hot compresses and all the tension in Os’s feet melted away. Even though he was pregnant, even though his feet normally hurt every day, his feet had never felt that good before. And this was only the beginning — only the beginning of Alan’s foot treatment for Os that day, and only the beginning of Os’s life with Alan.

Alan kneeled on the floor, between Os’s toweled feet. It was like a dream for Os: lying back on a huge bed, seeing a gorgeous man appearing at bedside between his outstretched legs, and that man massaging his feet. The hot towels felt like warm, loving embraces on his exhausted feet. At nineteen, Os never had foot pains before. But now he was pregnant. Everything was different. The everyday aches and pains Os normally heard about only from older people were now his own in pregnancy.

Alan’s hands pushed and squeezed the soles of Os’s feet through the hot towels. He wiggled the toes back and forth and rotated Os’s feet clockwise, then counterclockwise. Os lay back on the soft down pillow and closed his eyes, almost falling asleep.

Then a crying baby sound: Os’s phone rang. Os woke, and Alan looked up from between Os’s feet.

“Oswald Offenbach?” the female voice asked. Whoever it was was stumbling with Os’s name. Maybe somehow the baby-supplies marketers had already found out he was pregnant.

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“I’m Belinda Jones from the Springville State Sentinel. We saw each other today at the omega dorm. I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“No thanks. I’m not interested in answering any questions.”

“So, can I put you on the record as saying no comment?”

“I’m not interested in answering any questions. Including that one.” Os sighed.

“Ok, thanks. Can you put me in touch with Professor Archer? His office line isn’t picking up. Do you have his home number?” The way she asked it, she suspected something. Of course she suspected something: she’d seen Os and Alan descending from Os’s dorm room to Alan’s car. She’d have to be blind not to suspect something was going on.

“I’m not interested in answering any questions.” Os clicked the phone off again, then set it to mute.

“Who was asking you all those questions you don’t want to answer?” Alan’s blue eyes shot up to ask. Os could’ve answered any question for Alan. And it felt tremendously better to know that Alan was with him. Alan couldn’t do anything about the gossipy college reporters, of course, but he could provide moral support to Os. And Alan was great at providing moral support.

“The same reporter we saw at the dorm. They are sniffing around, I guess.” Os shrugged as best he could while still lying down and trying to take a nap. Alan sighed deeply and looked down at the floor as he massaged Os’s feet.

“Os. I just want you to know: no matter what, I’m with you. I’m yours. Even if they find out about our relationship and our baby. I’m sticking with you for this. Ok?”

“More than ok.” Os stretched his legs out further. “I love you. And I’m always here for you too. I’m only a nineteen-year-old freshman, but any way I can be, I’m always here for you.”

Alan crouched up, half-crawled onto the bed, and planted a small kiss on Os’s pregnant belly. Then he lay his face on it. Even through his shirt, Os felt the warmth of Alan’s face. Somehow, everything was going to be ok.

Seven

In second-quarter human genetics and reproduction, Os was still Alan’s star student in public, and his beloved omega husband in private. Nobody knew. At least as far as Alan knew, nobody knew.

Os said he’d vaguely mentioned to his dorm-mates that he had found an apartment off-campus. That was a decent enough excuse, but according to Os, those dorm-mates had expressed more interest in Os’s exact whereabouts than they’d ever expressed in him before. Os had been wearing those extra-large hoodies, windbreakers, granny sweaters, anything to hide his growing pregnancy belly. But besides the growing belly being more and more difficult to hide, Alan saw Os’s occasional temper outbursts toward his classmates piqued more than a few eyebrows. He’d even seen Os’s classmates surreptitiously hand-gesture a pregnant belly to one another when Os was in the midst of one of his temper outbursts before or after class.

Alan’s colleagues, too, seemed to drop seemingly innocuous questions about Alan’s friendship with his star student. Alan did his best to answer the questions calmly and offhandedly, just as if he was being asked about his conversations with any other student. Oh, yeah, they had coffee together, yeah, they sometimes talk about the class over lunch. But it was nothing appropriate, as far as Alan told his colleagues. And it certainly wasn’t human reproduction in action, as far as Alan’s colleagues were told.

That chilly February afternoon, Alan declared class to be over, and watched the students filter out. Of course Os would walk out of the class together with the other students. They’d meet later at the Starbucks adjacent to campus, and Alan could drive him home.

After the students were gone, Alan gathered his things from the lectern and walked out. Immediately outside the classroom door stood a uniformed campus security officer. And next to the security officer stood Bill Bevins, Faculty Dean. One of Alan’s students must’ve gotten up to something no-good. Or maybe gone missing.

Maybe they’d ask Alan whether he’d seen some student of his over the past few class sessions. those questions always embarrassed him, because he never remembered his students’ attendance, and it felt like a dereliction of duty. That was the thing about teaching undergraduates: the university expected you to be their caretaker. Alan never knew exactly how to do it right. And he knew that whatever the university considered to be the right way, Alan’s relationship with Os wasn’t it.

“Professor Archer.” The way Bevins said Alan’s name, it sounded more like an announcement than like a greeting.

“What’s up, Bill. Did one of my precious charges run off without paying their tuition bill? Or am I up for a research prize? Or what?” Alan asked lazily.

“We just wanted to talk with you about something,” Bevins said. “You mind coming to my office?”

That was weird. The we especially. And the campus cop. Did they think Alan was about to get violent or something?

“Sure. Let’s go to your office.” There went Alan, trying to be nonchalant, mister nonchalant himself, the very picture of nonchalance.

The three walked silently toward the administration office building. Alan racked his mind for what could have been up.

There was the one flight ticket the previous year for which he’d received a cash refund, which $226 he’d “forgotten” to give back to the university. The university never tracked such things. He was on the verge of coming clean and counting out $226 from his wallet on the walk over. But maybe it wasn’t that. He only needed to stay cool. As cool as he could be.

Why was the security guy following them into the administration building? Was Alan accused of shoplifting?

Bevins nodded to the campus security officer, who didn’t go inside Bevins’s office, while Bevins and Alan went inside.

“Have a seat.” Bevins pointed to the soft office chair on the opposite side of his desk. Bevins got into his own chair without waiting for Alan to sit down. Was the security guy still standing watch outside? Was Bevins going to administer Alan a beating?

“Ok, first thing.” Bevins raised his chin and looked down at Alan over his own fat, floppy face. “Don’t play tricky. Don’t play dumb.”

“I haven’t even said anything,” Alan said. He inhaled deeply. Whatever this was, it wouldn’t be good. He calmed himself by imagining holding Os’s hand through this ordeal, whatever the ordeal was going to be, hugging Os closely, feeling Os’s semi-wavy brown hair on his own neck, patting Os’s pregnant belly. He daydreamed of daydreaming about their future baby.

“There you go again,” Bevins said loudly, snapping Alan out of his daydream-in-a-daydream. “This I went to Harvard, I’m smarter than all of you bullshit of yours.”

It was weird. In all his time as a professor at Springville State, Alan never mentioned Harvard to anybody even once. Yes, he’d graduated from there, but he let his academic record speak for that. He never mentioned Harvard, much less gloated it over anybody. But it was Bevins and the rest of the administration who brought up Harvard to him, constantly. And told him that he gloated Harvard over them, when they were the only ones who ever brought up Harvard.

“Dean Bevins. With all due respect.”

“This isn’t the Harvard Faculty Club, Archer. You don’t have to talk to me like that.” It seemed Alan couldn’t win either way.

“Ok. Bill. My first point was that I never brought up Harvard. You’re the one who keeps talking about me having gone to Harvard, me having an attitude from Harvard, et cetera. I mean, and so on. I never brought up Harvard even once.”

“You just mentioned Harvard four times, Archer.” Bevins shook his head disdainfully. Definitely, Alan couldn’t win.

“Alright.” Alan was interested in solving problems, not in having picayune verbal wars with this fat-faced administrative monster. “As you said, Bill, this isn’t Harvard. So let’s not talk about Harvard. So what’s the agenda for our meeting?”

“I just wanted to make it clear that you shouldn’t waste our time playing dumb. Because we know what’s going on. Do you know what I’m talking about, Archer?”

“You can call me by my first name. That’s Alan. And can you be a bit more specific about what’s going on? Are we talking about Marvin Gaye or what?”

“Ok. Alan. Unleashing your Harvard wit, I see. What’s going on between you and Oswald Offenbach is what I’m talking about.”

So it was about Os after all. Somehow that had seemed like both the least likely and the most likely possibility. There was nowhere else for Alan to go with speculating about it now: Os was what the meeting was about.

“Ok. And more specifically what’s the meeting about?” Alan asked.

“Alright, Alan,” Bevins said, and exhaled theatrically, as if for the benefit a hidden camera somewhere. Maybe there in fact was one. “Oswald already told us everything. About the inappropriate relationship you’re carrying on with him.”

“Oswald?” Os snitched him out? That wasn’t unthinkable. Os was young. And for the past few months, Os had been prone to pregnancy-induced temper tantrums. Somehow ill-advisedly reporting their relationship to the university administration could have been one such tantrum.

“Did you expect to just carry on an inappropriate relationship with a freshman without him complaining to the administration? And to the Sentinel? And to all his friends? And to anybody else within hearing range?” Bevins was chuckling.

“So—” Alan started to say.

“Oswald told us everything,” Bevins said, shaking his head in reprimand. “Probably with your Harvard degree and all, Alan, you realize that this is a dismissable offense? You can and will get fired for this.”

Alan silently nodded. He wished he could tell them that as much as he liked teaching at Springville State, it was no longer all he had in life. But since that was the very thing he was being accused of, it would be touchy, to say the least, to bring up.

“I’m sorry.” Alan leaned back in the chair. He had to face the repercussions of what he’d done. And Os, as much as Alan loved Os, Os had brought this upon him. “I’m sorry I did things like this. I’m not sorry about my relationship. But I’m sorry this is how you had to find out about it.”

“Even if we don’t call it a firing, Alan. Even if we don’t call it a firing. Even if we call it a resignation.” Bevins tapped his fingers on his desk, like he was typing on an invisible keyboard. “It’s going to be obvious that you resigned because of a scandal. People put two and two together. It will be a disgrace, Alan. Your academic career — over, in disgrace.”

“Fine. That’s fine. I’ve got other options.” Alan had to work hard not to smile. Working at OmegaCheck, the maker of pregnancy tests for omegas, would pay much better than teaching. They’d been trying to recruit him for years. There were also the job offers from Harvard — the only university Alan’s parents considered “good enough” for him — but that would’ve been too far away from Os.

“Oh yeah, OmegaCheck?” Bevins laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure you can go work there. You’d still leave the university in disgrace. Leave academic life in disgrace.”

Why was Bevins emphasizing the disgrace? It’s not as if Alan could go back in time and take back his relationship with Os. And not as if he’d want to. Emphasizing the disgrace seemed like nothing but a sadistic rubbing-it-in or getting-back-at Alan for some untold slight.

“Fine. It seems I have no other option, right? Are you emphasizing my academic disgrace just to get your rocks off here?” Alan had never spoken like that to the Dean. But if he was going down in disgrace, he had nothing to lose. “You wanna slap my ass or something, put a ball gag on me? What’s the deal?”

“There are always options, Alan. There are always options.” Bevins steepled his hands. He looked and sounded like an evil henchman in a cartoon. What the hell were those options? Was he soliciting a bribe? Was he soliciting a blowjob? Alan had seen his share of shady dealings in academia, but he was unprepared for whatever Bevins was trying to do.

“Ok. Bill. I’m definitely the dumb guy here, because I have no idea what those options are.” Alan really didn’t. If they were out to destroy him, then they were out to destroy him. “Could you edify me please?”

“Alan, Springville State prides itself on serving all students, but especially serving our most vulnerable students, the omega students.”

“Yeah. I know that, Bill. I work here too.”

“Well, maybe you can imagine. A relationship between an alpha professor and one of our freshman omega students doesn’t look good at all. Not good at all.” Bevins said those last words slowly, presumably for emphasis.

“Looks, always all about looks.” Alan shook his head. He had gone into academia because he thought it was the one place he’d be known for his work and his knowledge, not his looks. Now looks were the focus again for his career, although in a different way.

“Alan. Did you know that international omega students pay over a hundred thousand dollar a year here in tuition and fees? Ever wonder what’s paying for your fat salary?”

“I’m vaguely aware of my arguably, arguably fat salary coming from the non-arguably high prices we charge international students, yes.”

“Alan. What do you think some billionaire parent in China will think when he hears about this? The story is liable to get out, you know. The reporter munchkins are all in a fuss about it. Even the faculty is all in a fuss about it.”

“I don’t know, Bill. Seriously, I’m not a billionaire parent in China. I have no idea. But I imagine it can’t be good for the University.”

“That’s correct. Your Harvard PhD must be doing you some good, because you’re correct on that. Your sexual relationship with a freshman omega will definitely not look good for those billionaire parents who fund your salary.”

“So? You’ve already decided that you’re firing me. I don’t know why we’re discussing all these things.”

“Alan. The problem is not whatever you and that Oswald kid did. I don’t give a flying fuck how you get your dick wet, ok? You and he are both adults. Between you and me, ok? I don’t give a flying fuck.”

Well that was interesting. Alan only said, “Oh.”

“Alan, let me tell you something. Marketing. Billionaire parents. Appearance is reality. The story getting out. That’s what matters.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that, Bill.”

“The other thing that matters a lot for our marketing efforts is that you’re here, Alan. You know it very well. You’re famous for your work in studying omega reproductive biology. You and I know that you’re not the students’ on-call physician. You’re not even a physician. You and I know that. But for the parents, having Alan Archer right here on campus is really reassuring for sending their omega sons here.”

“I could see that.” It was all Alan could say to sound modest. Of course he knew that parents of omegas loved Springville State in part because the famous Alan Archer taught there.

“So here’s the option I’m offering, Alan. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Bill.”

Bevins breathed deeply and nodded at Alan emphatically. “We keep you employed here at Springville State. We give you full tenure. We triple your salary. You’ll be making over three hundred K a year. Full tenure, highest-paid professor at Springville State. Sound ok?” Bevins beamed at Alan. He was obviously awaiting an eager acceptance. Bevins resembled a fat guppy waiting to be fed.

“If that’s the offer, why did you need to bring the campus security officer with you to present it? Were you afraid I’d go crazy with joy?” Alan laughed.

“We just need your help, Alan.”

“Aha. I’m sensing a catch.”

“We need you to firmly deny that you had any relationship with Os Ofenbach. The kid already ratted you out. There’s no use for you to keeping him around. He’s obviously already turned against you.”

“You want me to deny my relationship? The relationship you just told me a few minutes ago not to deny?”

“Well, of course in this case, you’d be telling the truth. Because you would have actually ended the relationship. Completely. Full stop. No more contact. We pull him out of your class. We get a campus restraining order preventing him from seeing you. He won’t ever bother you again. Pretty good, right?”

Alan’s face flushed. Even if Os had ratted him out, even if full tenure and a tripled salary were on the table, Alan wanted no part of what Bevins was offering.

“I’m not going to dump Oswald like that.”

“We’ll take care of him,” Bevins said. Alan stared wide-eyed. He felt like he was in a movie and Bevins really was the evil henchman. “I mean, not take care of him take care of him. I mean like give him a nice little scholarship or something in return for him admitting he got pregnant from a one night stand and then decided to blame the pregnancy on his professor.”

“You guys even know about the pregnancy?”

“Alan. He told us everything.” Bevins nodded, obviously proud of himself and his investigative abilities, whatever they might have been.

“So you think I’m going to walk away from the baby? I mean say even if Os doesn’t want me — you think I can walk away from the baby I fathered? Just for tenure?”

“Alan, you need to be realistic. The University will pay for Alan’s scholarship. We have on-campus daycare for students’ babies. We have a full support program for single omega fathers. Meanwhile, you’ll finally get tenure. And I’m no omega, but you and I both know you’ll have no problem getting yourself a new hot little omega.”

“Is this conversation finished, Bill?”

“Alan, I have the contract right here with me.” Bevins pulled a file folder from the briefcase standing on his desk. “Full tenure. Increased salary. And of course a confirmation that you had nothing to do with the delusional student who claimed to have a relationship with you.” Bevins lay the contract in front of Alan. Then Bevis took a pen off the desk and lay it on the contract. “All you have to do is sign and tenue is yours.”

“Bill. Is this conversation finished?”

“We’ll have to fire you in disgrace is what you’re saying you prefer, Alan?” Bevins folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. He still looked like a fat guppy. Alan was half-waiting for Bevins to start grabbing fish food flakes with his lips.

“It’s what I prefer to betraying Oswald, yes.” Alan said it loudly enough to echo off the walls of Bevins’s office. “You know I want to keep teaching here at Springville State. If you want to fire me, that’s your decision. Either way, I’m not going to betray Oswald, nor am I going to betray the baby I fathered with him.”

“If that’s what you prefer, Alan. If that’s what you prefer.”

“Alright. Is this conversation over? Am I fired immediately or do you want me to turn in a resignation letter tomorrow or what’s the deal?”

“Tenure, Alan. Full tenure.”

“Is this conversation over?”

“Yeah. You can turn in a resignation letter tomorrow. You can email it to me. Don’t worry about teaching tomorrow’s classes.”

“Got it.” Alan nodded and stood up. He started walking toward the office door. The campus security guard might have lunged at him and force him back in, or forced him into signing that contract. Instead, Bevins stood up, and called out after him.

“Alan.”

“I’m not going along with the plan, no matter how many times you ask,” Alan said.

“Not that. I just wanted to tell you. Don’t take it out on Oswald. Kid didn’t tell us anything. We got rumor from around campus. We never talked to Oswald. Ok? I was doing the bad cop good cop routine, telling you Oswald already snitched on you. Oswald didn’t even talk to us. So don’t take it out on him.”

“I suspected as much,” Alan said. That wasn’t entirely true. Alan didn’t suspect as much. He hadn’t known Oswald well enough. He knew Oswald was a good kid, but nineteen-year-olds were always flighty and unpredictable. It would’ve been conceivable for a nineteen-year-old, even a good kid, to go running to the University to complain about his professor boyfriend.

Fortunately, Bevins confirmed to Alan that Oswald wasn’t that kind of kid. Alan could pretend that he never doubted Os’s loyalty, Bevins or no Beivins. In retrospect, was a little bit shameful that Alan had even believed Bevins’s story, even for a half-second. But Os was young and pregnant. Young guys did silly things. Pregnant guys did silly things. Young and pregnant guys did especially silly things.

Sorry, I had an administration meeting. Ready for pick up to go home? Alan texted Os.

Ready as ever. Starbucks. was Os’s text reply.

When Alan pulled up to the Starbucks and saw Os standing there, big windbreaker hiding his pregnant belly, he smiled. A lot. Alan knew it was the last of Os having to hide his pregnancy.

“You’re chipper!” Os said. “Good faculty meeting?”

“I’ve got good news.” Alan tapped his hands on the steering wheel as if drumming along to a nonexistent song.

“You got tenure?” Os asked.

“Even better. I’m fired.” Alan announced it proudly.

“Getting fired is better than tenure?” Os asked, his jaw dropped.

“It’s better than tenure because we don’t have to pretend anymore. You don’t have to wear hoodies and windbreakers. You can be openly a four-month-pregnant omega and I have no university position to risk by everybody knowing it.”

“You mean, I can just go around campus, pregnant? Openly pregnant?” It was guilt-inducing, the way Os said it. Thanks to Alan’s arrogance and selfishness, Os had been forced to hide his pregnancy. At least that wouldn’t be needed anymore. It would do a little bit at least to make things up to Os.

“Exactly. That’s why I’m smiling. And I can openly love you. Hold your hand in public. Kiss you.” Alan’s mind filled with imagining it. Of course he’d held Os’s hand and kissed him when nobody was watching. But doing that in public would be amazing, empowering. Alan had never openly had a boyfriend.

“And what about your job?” Os’s voice of concern was wonderful. His immediate concern for Alan was warm all over, even if a little bit childish.

“I told you I have a standing job offer from OmegaCheck. It’s much better pay than the university anyway. And it’s right here in Springville.”

“Didn’t you also have a job offer from H-Harvard?” Os’s voice quivered slightly when he said it.

“Yeah, I did, and I do.” Of course he did. And until he’d met Os, he thought about going back to Harvard to teach. But now that he was with Os, he wouldn’t leave him for anything.

“So? Harvard is a bit more prestigious than a pregnancy kit company, isn’t it?” Os gulped a little bit and closed his eyes when saying it.

“A bit more prestigious, but a thousand miles away from Springville. A thousand miles away from you.” Alan steered the car down the icy road to his house. The trees were bare. Os’s pregnancy was in full bloom. The roundness and rotundness of Os’s pregnant belly: Os and Alan could now proudly show off the pregnancy. They didn’t have to appease anybody anymore.

“You’d turn down Harvard to be closer to me?”

“Os. I turned down more than that to be close to you. Trust me. Just trust me.” Alan’s voice was pleading. Of course he was asking to be trusted about more than just Harvard. He tapped the brakes and steered the car down the Archer driveway.

“I learned. I already learned.” Os put out his arm and gently rested his hand in the crook of Alan’s elbow as Alan steered the car. “I know to trust you.”

“Me too. I mean, I just learned to trust you,” Alan said as he pulled the car into the garage. The electric garage door closed behind them and Alan turned off the car. He still hadn’t finished explaining to Os what had happened that day with Bevins. The garage felt like a confessional booth.

“Just learned now?” Os asked with a half-smile.

“Os, have you ever been questioned by the cops?”

“Uh, no?” Os laughed. “Am I a suspect?”

“I mean me. Today. When they called me into the meeting today. Os, you know how when the cops question you, they tell you that they have all the evidence against you, even though they don’t really have any evidence against you?”

“I’ve seen that on Law & Order reruns, yeah.” Os nodded.

“And they tell you that everyone else already ratted you out, and that your proclaiming your innocence is useless, because all those close closest to you have abandoned you. That’s a basic interrogation technique. Apparently. I learned today.” Alan sighed.

“So they told you that I abandoned you? That I ratted you out about our relationship or something?” Os’s gray eyes looked into Alan’s. Alan couldn’t lie to those eyes. He couldn’t also say the harsh truth. But of the two choices, he had to tell Os the truth.

“They told me that you complained about our relationship, that you told them everything about it in a complaint, that you wanted me fired.”

Os only shook his head. “And did you believe them?”

“I thought — I mean —”

“You believed that I’d do that?” Os asked, still shaking his head. His voice cracked. The garage was dark, but Alan knew Os’s eyes were tearing up, even if he couldn’t see the tears directly.

“Os. You’re nineteen. You’re pregnant.” Those were rational reasons, of course. To an adult. To Alan. But to Os, Alan knew, they’d sound like an insult.

“So you think I’d throw you under the bus like that? After I told you I love you? After we’ve been in a relationship together?” Os was definitely crying.

“I’m sorry, Os. I’m sorry. Now I know. I learned. I’m sorry.”

“You learned, I guess.” Still sitting in the Camry, Os leaned in and put his head in the crook of Alan’s shoulder.

“Os. I love you and I trust your devotion to me. I just know a pregnant nineteen-year-old can be flighty, ok? Trust me that I love you.”

“I trust you,” Os said. “I think. I hope. I trust you.”

Eight

Alan shielded his eyes from the morning sun as he lay his head on Os’s baby bump. Alan was resting his ear on Os’s belly, just as he’d been doing every morning for the past three months, since the baby’s kicks had become audible.

Alan’s ear was like a suction cup, or like a human stethoscope, on Os’s belly. “I hear her kick! I feel it!” Alan was almost squealing in joy. Os hadn’t known that a forty-year-old man, a professor who studied human reproduction every day, could be so giddy about a baby. “I heard another kick!” Alan grinned ear to ear with his ear pressed to Os’s belly.

Os gritted his teeth to delay his need for a good morning vomit. He could vomit after Alan got his baby-listening-jollies. “Not to spoil the baby mood or anything,” Os said, “but you’ve been hearing her kick every morning for three months now.” Os ran his hand through Alan’s silky blond hair as Alan rested his head on Os’s pregnant belly.

“But only one week of knowing she’s a she. That’s exciting, isn’t it?”

“Sure. I guess. Doesn’t really change anything, but it’s cute. Can I go throw up now?”

“Not without me to help you, you don’t,” Alan said. He helped Os out of bed, then walked him over to the porcelain bowl. The bowl was always ready for Os’s pregnancy-inspired morning offerings. From the side, Alan held Os steady as Os emptied his stomach contents into the bowl.

“Is that yesterday’s anchovy pizza?” Alan asked, watching the rainbow of puke fly from Os’s mouth into the toilet bowl. Os finished throwing up, then stepped over to the sink and washed his hands and face, then cleaned his mouth out with Listerine.

“Anchovy and peanut butter pizza, don’t forget,” Os said, his mouth still burning with Listerine that was getting rid of the vomit smell. It felt like mouth Lysol. “But yes. That was pizza, I believe.”

“Anchovy, anchovy and peanut butter — either way, the toilet bowl don’t care,” Alan said, laughing and affecting an Appalachian drawl. “Our baby’s gotta get fed. That’s all that matters.”

“Do you think — she’s gonna come out craving peanut and anchovies?” Os smiled and mischievously patted his belly. Alan led Os back to the bed and helped him sit back down. “I’m seriously asking the question here, Professor Archer!”

“I’m not Professor Archer anymore. I’m Alan.”

“Ok, Alan. I’m seriously asking the question here, Alan.”

“Every pregnant man and woman wants to eat stuff like that. Weird combinations. And then you know, not many kids out of the womb wanna eat shit like that. So, as former professor of human reproduction at Springville State University, I’m gonna have to say no.”

“Former professor at Springville State, current model recruiter at Omegacheck, right?” Os lay back on the bed and laughed. Alan lay back, at Os’s side.

“That’s one of my job responsibilities, I guess,” Alan said, talking up at the ceiling. “Scientific liaison and model recruiter. Sure. Photo shoot is in an hour.”

“Stupid question, but they know that I can’t stand up too long, right?” Os embraced his pregnant belly with his two hands, then rolled onto his left side.

“They know. They even want you to wear bunny slippers at the photoshoot, because they know about swollen feet and ankles.” Alan sat up, then leaned down and softly massaged Os’s feet and ankles. “Remember what business OmegaCheck is in, Os.”

“Right. Just that, you know, wanted to make sure, even if they’re in the omega pregnancy business. I mean even Springville State University isn’t perfect sometimes.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m glad I’m no longer teaching there. And you can be out and pregnant and proud.”

“I’ve been thinking, Alan: one of these days, would you mind visiting the campus?”

“Why? More stuff to bring from your former dorm room?”

“No. Well maybe. But not that. Just that I want to see about really getting involved in the omega support and omega rights community at school, now that I’m out.”

“You’re not too exhausted, with your huge pregnant belly?” Alan kissed the belly again.

“I am, but I think the visual effect is awesome, being a visibly pregnant omega. And if you appear with me — ok, I admit, with your looks — it’s even better.”

“I see. So it will be just like the old days, with Alan Archer serving as the mantelpiece decoration, right?” Alan smiled at Os, obviously awaiting the rebuttal.

“You’re not just brains, you know.” Os squeezed Alan’s arm.

Alan lay his mouth in Os’s crotch. “Can I interest you in some pre-photoshoot relaxation, Mister Pregnant Man?”

“You know I’m too exhausted even to get my butt fucked,” Os said matter-of-factly. He was horny a lot of the time, but usually felt too listless and too plagued by minor aches and pains to want to do anything about that horniness.

“I mean some oral relaxation for you, good sir.” Alan laughed at his own formality. He then slid Os’s sweatpants and boxer shorts down. Os knew his dick popped up, erect, even if he couldn’t really see it over his pregnant belly. “I’ve got fifteen minutes to suck you off before we have to go to the OmegaCheck photoshoot,” Alan said conspiratorially. He started rubbing Os’s dickhead on his stubbly face: that much, Os could feel, the soft, gentle sandpaper texture of Alan’s midday stubble. Os’s cock on Alan’s face was soon slippery: Os knew it was his precum coating his dickhead, and Alan’s face.

Alan took Os’s cock and balls in his hand. Then everything around Os’s dickhead and shaft was warm. Os’s cock was deep inside Alan’s warm, tight mouth. The back of Alan’s throat was rubbing Os’s dickhead. Alan palmed and massaged Os’s balls while bobbing his head up and down on Os’s dick. Os only threw his head back and moaned. He knew that sexually, nothing was required of him. He was the pregnant man being pleasured by his beloved alpha.

Os only felt the warm, wet, tight embrace of Alan’s mouth, with occasional grazes of Alan’s teeth along the length of Os’s veiny shaft. Alan was sucking hard. The entire shaft was inside Alan’s mouth, and Os could only see the top of Alan’s head over his own pregnant belly.

A finger: Alan’s finger rested on Os’s taint, moving up and down, while tickling Os’s balls at one end, and Os’s ass rim at the other.

“My ass,” Os whispered.

Alan slipped Os’s dick out of his mouth. “I know your ass very well,” Alan whispered back, then took the dick back into his mouth, sucking on it hard. He spread Os’s legs far apart. Alan’s finger playing with Os’s taint and assrim felt amazing. He was pressing and massaging up into the prostate.

Suddenly: Alan’s thick finger plunged into Os’s ass. Os roared with pleasure. That finger was totally unexpected, and it felt almost as good as a cock. Stiffer, bonier, bendier, and not at all unpleasant. Alan’s finger went deep into Os’s hole, up to the knuckle. Os was so horny and lubricated from the blowjob that the finger slipped in without pain. Alan kept sucking off Os as he finger-fucked him. Alan’s head bobbed up and down on Os’s dick as Alan pumped his erect finger in and out of Os’s ass.

Alan’s finger-fucking of Os’s ass got more intense. Maybe it was the fastest, hardest fucking Os had ever gotten, or maybe it just felt that way because Os was very pregnant. Alan’s digit reached deep inside; his fingertip tickled Os’s prostate with every push in.

The cum started gathering inside Os. It was man-nectar gathering up in his prostate and balls and soon it would need to escape. Os felt a body spasm approaching. “Oh fuck, now, it’s now,” Os frantically mumbled.

Os’s whole body spasmed. He pushed his dick up, hard into Alan’s mouth, bulldozing its way into Alan’s throat. Os couldn’t quite see over his pregnant belly, but he felt Alan sucking the cum out of him, and he knew that rope after rope of his cum was splattering inside Alan. He heard Alan swallow Os’s thick cum over and over.

Alan slurped at the dickhead, then licked it clean. Os felt Alan pouring his own saliva on Os’s dick, then licking it off to wash it.

“Done!” Alan announced. “Feel good?”

“Oh my God.” Os stretched his arms up on the bed and smiled widely. “Yeah. That hit the spot.”

“Good. Time to get going to the photoshoot then.” 

Os didn’t particularly feel like getting up and out of bed under his own power. But Alan’s arm appeared next to him, as it always did in times like this. Os held Alan’s Arm and Alan led him to put on his bunny slippers and walk over to the garage and the car.

The OmegaCheck building was in an office park on the outskirts of Springville. Having lacked a car on campus, Os had never been out that way. The letter omega and a silhouette of a pregnant man stood above the office park, and Os knew he must be in the right place.

“I don’t really know the ad production people,” Alan said while parking the car by the building’s rear entrance. “I’m not involved in making ads.”

“Except when you recruit a young pregnant omega to appear in those ads, right?” Os smiled.

“When that omega is my beloved mate and boyfriend and lover, sure.” Alan turned off the car and jogged to Os’s passenger door, then led Os out, bunny slippers and all, to the building’s rear entrance.

Walking anywhere, even just through the OmegaCheck parking lot to the building door, wasn’t comfortable for very pregnant and very ankle-swollen Os. But of course he had to. And the modeling gig would be fun, would help omega pride, and of course would make him some money.

Alan scanned his entry card. Os hesitantly pushed open the thick steel door. Immediately, a woman’s voice announced, “We finally get to meet Alan Archer’s handsome omega boyfriend!”

“Hey, Debbie,” Alan said. “Debbie is someone in this department I actually know. Debbie, this is Os. My boyfriend, my lover, my omega mate, the co-father of my child.” Alan gently patted Os’s pregnant belly.

“Os! Our superstar model! Come with me!” She led Os to a wardrobe room with dress shirts, dress jackets, t-shirts, sweaters, even tuxedos, all with a pregnancy-accommodating bulge in the front. “So we’re going to do a bunch of scenes, some just you, some with Alan, all for the OmegaCheck product of course.”

“Great,” Os said. Alan was bringing up the rear, looking unsure about whether he should follow Os and Debbie. Os waved behind him to invite Alan to follow. Alan was an alpha, in his own workplace, and Os was giving him permission to follow him. Maybe Os really was coming into his own as a man.

Debbie shuffled through the shirts, pants, suits, and tuxedos on the rack. “Some of these are for the alpha mate, no pregnancy bump,” she said, smiling at Alan. “He’s normally known around here as Doctor Archer. He’s known as Os’s alpha mate for this photo shoot, I guess.”

“Cool. I don’t get to dress up much beyond business casual,” Alan said, entering the dressing room.

“Can we start out in tuxes?” Debbie asked, already pulling out a selection of tuxedos and laying them on the table before Alan or Os had a chance to answer. “You guys would look amazing in tuxes.”

“Never worn a tux in my life,” Alan said, laughing.

“Neither have I. But I’m only nineteen,” Os said, playing up a bit of young omega innocence.

“Oh.” Debbie seemed puzzled. “So you guys haven’t —”

“Oh yeah we have!” Alan said and patted Os’s pregnant belly. Os did his best to smile at Alan’s slightly salacious joke.

“Not that!” Debbie shook her head and clicked her tongue in reprimand. “I mean you haven’t officially gotten married yet?”

“Nope,” Os said matter-of-factly.

“We haven’t gotten around to it, with all the hassle I went through, we went through, at the university. Actual wedding kind of took a back seat,” Alan said.

“Well.” Debbie chose one tux with a pregnancy bump, one without and laid them out in front of Os and Alan. “You guys would look amazing in tuxes. All I’m saying. And you should give it a try right now for the photoshoot.”

“Do Os and I get to share a dressing room?” Alan asked. This must have been his jokey, slightly lecherous, pull-my-finger persona at work.

“You do get to share a dressing room, Doctor Archer,” Debbie said with a sigh. “But you’ve got five minutes flat to change into those tuxedos, so no funny business ok?”

“Are you accusing Os of being a pervert?” Alan asked.

“No, but I’m quite certain you’re a pervert, Doctor Archer, no accusations required.” Debbie laughed and waved as she left the dressing room and shut the door behind her.

Os held his pregnant belly in dull pain and sat down on the sofa. Alan hovered over him and helped him change, while still sitting on the sofa, from his t-shirt and sweats into the tuxedo. Os had never worn clothes like these before. Alan got up and changed into his matching tuxedo. Then he held out his hand to help Os stand up. They looked into the full-length mirror together. Alan took his phone off the table and snapped a photo of the two of them in the mirror. Os took his own phone and did the same.

“Your five minutes is almost up! Stop doing whatever you’re doing!” Debbie announced from outside the dressing room door.

“We’re just taking pictures,” Alan said, mock-wearily. “And not those kinds of pictures either.”

“Can I come in, just to make sure?” Debbie asked.

“Sure. Come in,” Alan said. Debbie started opening the door. “Check out our cocks!” Alan yelled. Debbie shrieked and closed the door again. Alan shook his head and laughed. “So easy to scare you women. Our cocks are safely stowed away in our tuxedos.” Debbie came back into the room, her head shaking even more vigorously than before.

“This is perfect,” Debbie said. “Do you mind posing for photos in a wedding mockup in those tuxedos? And then you can wear more casual clothes for some honeymoon shots?”

“Our magic honeymoon at the OmegaCheck warehouse?” Alan asked with a laugh.

“Set design. The magic of set design.” Debbie waved at the mockups of beaches, mountains, and cities that sat around the room, ready for shooting ads. She waved Alan and Os to a set resembling a wedding hall or church, with realistic mannequins in the audience.

Alan and Os took their places to be pretend-wed. Debbie called over the photo and lighting staff. The stage lights were hot on Os’s face.

“When we do this for real, can we do it without the stage lights?” Os asked Alan.

“Sure. Even sitting down would be fine, since you’re pregnant,” Alan said.

“Sitting down?” Os asked. “We can get married sitting down?”

“It’s our wedding, isn’t it?” Alan smiled at Os. “And you’re pregnant. Very pregnant. So we can get married any way we want.”

“That actually sounds wonderful,” Os said. He’d been hesitant to bring up the wedding to Alan because he didn’t know whether he could make it through an entire wedding standing up in a tuxedo, and he didn’t want to disappoint or embarrass Alan. Now the pressure was off. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention a wedding earlier. I just thought I couldn’t make it standing up all the way through. Stupid reason, right?”

“Husbands, kiss!” Debbie yelled, as a flurry of camera clicks started around them.

“Yes, ma’am,” Alan said, sounding just like a dejected kindergartener. Alan leaned into Os and gave him a kiss for the ages, a kiss to be remembered, a kiss that maybe wouldn’t make it into the OmegaCheck ads. He dove into Os’s mouth with his tongue and lips and ran his hands up and down Os’s back and under Os’s pregnant belly. Os kissed him back just as fiercely, running his tongue all over Alan’s tongue and teeth and lips, then giving Alan’s nose a small love bite.

Alan pulled away slightly from Os and asked Debbie, “How’s that?”

“Oh my,” Debbie said, theatrically fanning herself. “I didn’t sign up for that, but I think our target market of horny omegas might enjoy it.”

“So there’s a bonus for Os?” Alan asked Debbie.

“Sure,” Debbie said. “As if being your boyfriend wasn’t enough of a bonus.”

Alan reached out and held Os’s hand, and smiled and posed for a few more photos. “Can Os sit down sometime soon?” Alan asked. “He’s very, very pregnant.”

“Do you guys wanna just do your beach honeymoon photoshoot in your tuxes? I think it might be fun.”

“Sure, if it means I can sit down sooner,” Os said. His extra pregnancy weight, combined with pregnancy exhaustion, combined with sore feet and ankles, combined with lack of sleep — he really just needed to rest.

Debbie led them to a cheesy photo set depicting a “beachside,” with beach loungers, fake sand, a tiki hut, and cardboard blue ocean waves in the distance. Os sat down in a beach lounger as soon as he could, and exclaimed “aaahhh.”

“Ham up the beach thing a bit,” Debbie said. Os laughed. Alan sat down in the lounger next to Os’s. Os held his arms up to enjoy the imaginary ocean breeze. Alan kicked imaginary sand. Cameras snapped. Debbie laughed.

“Alan. I can’t wait until our real wedding,” Os said. He was confident about his relationship with Alan, for the most part. About 99%. 1% of him was still the shaking, unsure omega who wasn’t sure if he was good enough to be loved by a man like Alan. The wedding would just be that last part that would confirm away that 1% of doubt, that would cement their love deeply in Os’s always-doubting subconscious.

“I can’t either,” Alan said. He leaned to the side to plant a kiss on Os’s cheek, and instead sent the prop-grade plastic lounger collapsing to the ground. Even more cameras clicked and Debbie and the photographers laughed.

Alan smiled at the cameras and gave a thumbs-up from the floor of faux-sand he was sitting on. “I did that on purpose,” Alan announced, leaning up against Os’s lounger, then theatrically kissed Os’s hand. Debbie and the camera crew applauded.

They hammed it up a bit more, with an inflatable beach ball, a toy sailboat, and a big plastic fish. Os knew that OmegaCheck’s magazine ads were often tongue-in-cheek, and this photoshoot seemed to fit perfectly.

After that photoshoot, Os was ready to collapse to sleep. Alan walked him out to the car, sat him in the passenger seat, and let him sleep. Os was asleep before he even remembered Alan pulling out of the OmegaCheck lot.

A quiet beeping awoke Os. Alan was taking a phone call on his Bluetooth headset. Os kept his eyes closed and vaguely listened to Alan’s side of the phone conversation, as best he could through the road hum and his own sleepiness. Alan was speaking quietly, almost whispering, either not to wake Os or to keep his conversation confidential. Either way, Os could make out most of it.

“Hey, dad.”

“Yeah, still with Oswald. Yeah, that student. I’ll send you another pic.”

“Dad. No.”

“Dad. We’ve been over this.”

“No, he’s not anybody famous. Last name? Offenbach. You won’t find him in the Society Register, sorry.”

“I know that’s what you want. That’s not what I want.”

“This isn’t fucking Game of Thrones, Archer edition, Dad. I don’t have to marry for your strategic whims.”

“Yes, I know they have an omega son who’s single. I’m not interested.”

“You’ll meet Os at our wedding, Dad. You’ll understand then.”

“I don’t care. I still am.”

“Well I’m still marrying him.”

“No date set yet. Maybe sometime in May. We’ll invite you if you’re good.”

“Well then you can go fume about it in private and don’t bother me.”

Os looked at Alan through a one-eighth-opened eye. Alan shook his head, sighed, and took off his Bluetooth headset and tossed it in the storage cubby. Still half-asleep, Os put out his hand, palm up, and lay it on the center console. Alan put his hand into Os’s. Os held Alan’s hand firmly. He didn’t know exactly what the conversation was about, but he knew that if Alan had always, always been there for him, he also needed to be there for Alan, to the best of his meager abilities.

Os woke up again, cool air conditioning blowing over his face. The car was already in the garage. Alan stood at the passenger door, helping Os out of the car. Os lifted himself and his pregnant belly up and out of the car, and Alan held him up so he wouldn’t do an unintentional skating performance on the concrete floor and fall down in his bunny slippers.  That skating Os did on the floor outside Alan’s office seemed like it was centuries ago, even if it was only seven months back.

Alan walked Os to the bedroom. Os couldn’t resist asking about the phone call.

“Your dad doesn’t want you to marry me?” Os mumbled.

“Archer family stuff.” Alan sighed. I’ve always had to deal with it. “They’re old society people. They always think it’s Game of Thrones, I have to marry some family ally or something.”

“You don’t have to — you don’t have to marry me.” Os said it in a voice that was half asleep, half joking, and either way, totally disconnected from here-and-now.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alan said, laughing. “But FYI, I love you and I want to marry you, and only you.”

“Really?” Os stumbled toward the bed as he asked.

Alan helped Os lie on the bed, and lifted up his t-shirt to kiss his pregnant belly again. “Really.”

Nine

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Alan’s father, David, said from the podium. “I didn’t even understand exactly how male pregnancy thing works. I am, as my son would say, bamboozled. And then my son became one of leading researchers in the field. How’s that for funny?”

Mild laughs and applause came from the wedding audience.

“And the other thing I’m going to tell you in complete honesty,” David Archer continued, “Coming from the Archer family — you know, with our family crest and everything,” David grinned and pointed at the family crest hanging on the wall in the wedding hall. Alan visibly rolled his eyes.

“Coming from that kind of background with the family crest, I always thought I’d be setting up my son for marriage. Marriage with an ally or an enemy or something like that. You know, Game of Thrones, Archer family edition.” The audience laughed. Os laughed especially enthusiastically, bunny slippers and all. Os was finally beginning to trust Alan that their relationship was real and that even Alan’s family approved of it — and that Os was indeed good enough for Alan.

“But my son, Alan, convinced me, that his husband-to-be, Oswald, is wonderful. And I’ve met Oswald and it’s definitely been concerned. And who could say no to a man wearing bunny slippers?” Os looked down at his bunny slippers and laughed, standing off to the side together with Alan and watching the proceedings.

“Without further ado, and not because we’re paying for this venue by the hour,” Alan’s father said, “let’s marry these two lovebirds!”

Alan put out his hand for Os. Alan helped Os walk down the aisle, as he helped pregnant Os do everything, always. The processional music started: “Walking On Sunshine,” Katrina and the Waves. That song had come on the radio more than once when Alan was driving Os to and from Springville State, and Alan associated it with his relationship, and now with his wedding.

Os walked arm-in-arm with Alan, being held up on him, ever-so-slightly trying to walk down the aisle in rhythm with the song. At the front of the aisle was a royal blue sofa. Senator Orlando Osborne stood in front of it, ready to administer the wedding vows.

Alan lifted Os into the air and turned to the crowd, cradling him in his arms. Applause and cheers. Alan gently, lovingly set Os down to sit on the sofa, and sat down next to him himself, for the wedding.

“Friends and family,” Senator Osborne began. “As you can see, these wedding vows are going to be just a little bit unconventional. The grooms will sit on a sofa instead of standing. But we are here to confirm that love is love, and that marriage is marriage even if the grooms are sitting on a sofa, not standing up. Because, excuse my language, pregnancy is a bitch.” Senator Osborne chuckled to himself. Alan glanced around the room for the expected share of grimaces, shocked looks, and laughs. At least Alan’s and Os’s parents were laughing.

“And also because pregnancy is a bitch, and causes swollen feet and ankles,” Senator Osborne continued, “our pregnant omega groom, Oswald Offenbach, is wearing bunny slippers today.”

Alan had helped Os rehearse this move every day for the past week: do a turn seated on the sofa, and hold his feet with bunny slippers high into the air. The bunny slippers would bring big laughs and make these wedding vows even more memorable than they already were.

Alan nodded to Os to do the bunny-slipper pirouette. Os nodded and leaned back on the sofa, then energetically threw his feet up into the air. It was more like a double-footed soccer kick than like a pirouette. “Bunny slippers!” Senator Osborne announced again, staying perfectly on-script.

The bunny slippers flew off of Os’s feet. Both went flying into the crowd, to cheers. They must’ve thought it was planned that way.

Then a crack. A crunch. A pool of water all over the sofa. This definitely wasn’t planned.

“Oh shit!” Os yelled, then covered his sort-of-innocent nineteen-year-old mouth.

“That’s not shit. Your water broke,” Alan whispered, half-laughing.

Panic took over Senator Osborne’s face. “Do you, Alan, marry this man, blah blah, we don’t have much time?”

“I do,” Alan said.

“Os, your water just broke. Do you marry Alan?” Senator Osborne’s eyes were scanning between Os’s face, the pregnancy-fluid-stained couch, and the exit door out to the parking lot.

“I do,” Os howled in half panic, half exuberance. His face was joy and pain all at once. “Got a contraction!Got a contraction!” Os yelled.

“You’re married now! Let’s get you to the hospital!” Senator Osborne gave a perfunctory goodbye wave to the assembled wedding crowd and led Os and Alan out to his SUV. Os was barefoot; they didn’t have time to try to get his bunny slippers back from whichever wedding attendees were treating them as a souvenir. Senator Osborne helped Os and Alan climb in the back, then turned on his emergency flashers and drove them to MPreg Hospital.

Os was breathing quickly. “Ow ow ow!” he yelled out periodically.

“Well, you know from class that’s your pregnancy contractions,” Alan said about as calmly as he could speak about his own husband giving birth to his own daughter.

“Yeah, I know that from your class. Doesn’t make it not hurt like a motherfucker. Owwwww!” Os grumbled.

Alan held Os’s hand in his own, kissed Os’s cheek silently, then smiled and took out his phone. “I’m gonna try to call in a favor.” He dialed and talked to someone quietly. “Ok, good. Doctor Adam Albright is an old friend. He agreed to do your delivery,” Alan said to Os.

“Doctor Adam Albright? The famous guy? The inventor of male pregnancy medicine?”

“Yeah, I guess, the famous guy,” Alan said with a smile.

“He’s going to do my delivery?” Os asked.

“Keep in mind that your husband is a famous guy, and helped launch Albright’s career. Yeah.” Alan smiled again.

Senator Osborne pulled the SUV into the waiting double doors. He’d go back to the wedding to wind things down and be polite, while the grooms were busy delivering their daughter.

Doctor Adam Albright was already waiting at the front of the hospital when Alan and Os walked in. Alan and Adam together helped Os get in a wheelchair, and Adam took him to a delivery room, while Alan stayed behind to fill out forms. Os’s relationship status: married. Alan’s relationship to Os: husband. That felt great to write.

“Good enough?” Alan asked the clerk who was examining his filled-out forms. The clerk nodded and waved for Alan to follow his husband and Doctor Albright up to the delivery room.

When Alan walked into the delivery room, Os was already sitting up on the delivery bed and Doctor Albright was placing an epidural in his back.

“Fuck, pain, pain, fuck!” Os yelled. Alan had actually never heard him talking like that. But then, Alan knew very well that labor was by far the most intense pain most people ever experienced in their lives.

“Pain from the needle or the contractions?” Doctor Albright asked.

“The fucking contractions. Can’t even feel the needle,” Os said.

“Ok, good. Give it a couple of minutes,” Doctor Albright said. “I know it’s hard but pain should be much less by your next contraction.” Os nodded, biting his lower lip, hard.

Alan squatted down next to the bed and started singing to Os: “Walking On Sunshine.” At first, Os shot Alan the most vicious annoyed look possible. Alan didn’t stop singing. Os’s anger turned into a laugh. He nodded his head along to the music while breathing in spurts, waiting for the epidural drugs to kick in.

“Alright, alright,” Os said. His tone was so much calmer. It was like he was high. He in fact was high. “Feeling copacetic now. Much less pain. Oh fuck fuck fuck, another one. Ohh. But much less bad than before.”

Doctor Albright smiled and nodded, then helped Os settle back into the delivery bed. The doctor and all his assistants and nurses had access to Os’s delivery flap. All Alan could do was look at that flap and dream about the beautiful baby that would soon come out.

“Puuuuuush,” the chorus of doctors and assistants told Os. Os already must have known that much, but push he did, groaning and sighing with every heave. Sweat poured off his face.

“I’m pushing.” Os spoke quietly between quick, labored breaths. “I’m trying.”

“It’s ok. Take your time.” Alan was whispering into Os’s ear. What he was saying wasn’t exactly blasphemous: there was no reason to push too hard, especially under epidural. Still, Os gave Alan a warm and loving look that made Alan feel as if he’d just made a big sacrifice by telling Os that — when in fact he was just giving him quite standard advice for a man in labor under an epidural.

“He’s right, you know,” Doctor Albright said to Os, mock-gravely. For some reason Alan found that hilarious and laughed. Os laughed along with him, until his laugh turned into the growl of yet another push.

Alan sang “Walking On Sunshine” again. He did his best to accentuate the comedy of the situation and danced along to the song. The room was entertained -- even more so because Adam Albright had never seen his academic advisor act so silly. Likewise, the physicians’ assistants who were helping Adam had only heard of Alan Archer as a famous male pregnancy scientist; their first direct encounter with him was now, when he was singing Katrina and the Waves for his husband.

“He’s a trooper,” Doctor Albright said to Alan. “It’s his first pregnancy, right?”

“Yup, first one,” Alan said.

“Yeah, I thought maybe there was a mistake in the records, because usually first-time omega fathers are screaming a hell of a lot more than this, excuse my language.” Doctor Albright reassuringly patted Os’s back.

“Os is definitely a trooper. That’s one of the many reasons I love him.” Alan kissed Os’s ear again.

“Urgh,” Os groaned loudly. Doctor Albright wheeled over a cart with an endoscope.

“Alright, Os, we’re just gonna try to get a bit of video from inside your pregnancy flap, alright?” Doctor Albright showed Os the tiny endoscopic camera tip. “Might hurt a little bit.”

“Pretty used to pain by now,” Os mumbled.

Doctor Albright took the endoscopic camera with two hands and pushed it inside the pregnancy flap. The giant LED monitor above them automatically illuminated, and on it was a view from inside Os’s pregnancy flap. There was unmistakably the pinkish-gray top of a baby’s head.

“See her?” Doctor Albright asked, smiling. Alan put his arm around Os and pointed up at the screen. Os nodded, grimacng in pain.

“Push, if you can!” Doctor Albright said. The doctor sounded like a cheerleader, and his assistants like his squad. Their cheerleading was effective, as the baby’s head became visible inside the pregnancy flap. Os groaned and pushed and Doctor Albright grabbed a mirror, a forceps, and a speculum, and kneeled down at the pregnancy flap.

“Keep pushing and you can go home soon,” Doctor Albright said with a laugh.

“Where I’ve got a fresh pair of bunny slippers for him,” Alan said. “And where I won’t stop hugging and kissing him.”

“Sounds like encouragement enough,” Os said, and scrunched his face with the effort of pushing hard.

“Almost!” Doctor Albright said, peeking into the pregnancy flap and holding his speculum in one hand and mirror in the other hand.

The baby cried. Then cried again, louder. Os groaned loudly, like Alan had never heard anybody groan before.

Doctor Albright held a beautiful dripping wet baby in his hands, smiling. His cheering squad was cheering again. Os smiled with all his remaining energy, then half-closed his eyes.

“We did it!” Alan announced excitedly.

“Uh, Os did it, not you, Doctor Archer,” Doctor Albright said, smiling and shaking his head at Alan.

“Oh yeah. Os did it. Not me. Sorry, Os. Yeah. I’m just too excited.”

Two assistants came to Doctor Albright and the baby in his hands. One wiped off the baby, while the other cut the umbilical cord.

“Whoa, there’s the placenta,” Doctor Albright announced. Os looked as his placenta slipped out of his pregnancy flap and out onto the floor, then nodded in resigned exhaustion. He looked more exhausted than Alan had ever seen anybody be.

Doctor Albright asked playfully, “So have we chosen a name for this beautiful baby girl?”

Os opened his eyes. He was suddenly fully lucid. “Thelma,” Os announced.

“Great name,” Doctor Albright said, nodding at Os and Alan. “Thelma Archer-Offenbach. Great.”

“Thelma?” Alan asked. “Have we discussed this?”

“No we haven’t. I made an executive decision. I carried my baby for nine months, so I can name her.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Alan said.

“That and I’m trying to prove to the world that I’m not a dumb submissive omega,” Os said. “And I think I’ve managed to prove it.”

Alan leaned down and kissed Os’s forehead and put his arms around him, under his shoulders. Thelma cried in Doctor Albright’s arms. Os woke up slightly and Doctor Albright put Thelma, wrapped in blankets, in Os’s arms. Alan had asked the nurses to take photos of the scene, and they remembered to come through.

“Thelma,” Alan said. “Where’s Louise?”

“He’s a bit too young to get that,” Doctor Albright said.

“You may be an outlaw, Alan, but you’re stealing my heart. Close enough?” Os smiled wearily, beatifically, drifting in and out of sleep.

“Os is nothing if not precocious,” Alan said to Doctor Albright. “I knew that even when he was my student.”

“And I’m no bimbo omega, Alan,” Os said, drifting back to sleep.

“I would love you even if you were.”

Epilogue

“Ohhhhhh my goodness!” Os exclaimed. He’d just come home from the last day of sophomore classes, to the first birthday party Alan and his parents were throwing for Thelma. And they’d just shown him the gift they’d bought for Thelma. “This is so cute that I’m almost going to faint!”

Alan’s parents had bought Thelma a pair of bunny slippers. They were a miniature version of the slippers Os had kicked off his feet at the wedding: off-white, with pink ears, bright pink nose, and bright blue eyes.

“I’m supposed to be the cool-headed scientist here,” Alan said, “but I have to admit, Dad, that is amazingly, incredibly cute.”

David Archer took the slippers and pulled them onto Thelma’s feet as she lay on the sofa. Thelma only looked at her own feet with surprise, cried for half a second, then went back to staring at David and Trudy Archer and smiling. David picked her up and held her closely to his chest. “Knowing you, Alan, I thought you’d complain that rabbits don’t have blue eyes.”

“I’m not as humorless as you might think.” Alan shook his head.

“I can confirm that,” Os said. “He’s got a sense of humor. Sometimes.”

Alan took the ice cream cake out of the freezer and cut slices for all in attendance. He fed Thelma a few spoonfuls of ice cream.

“It’s like she’s doing me a favor eating the ice cream,” Alan said.

“Yeah. She doesn’t like cold much,” Os said.

Alan took Thelma in his arms and sang “Happy Birthday.” Os responded with a rendering of “Walking On Sunshine.” Alan laughed and put Thelma in his father’s outstretched arms.

David lifted Thelma up and set her down on the floor. She made three uncertain steps in Os’s direction to be back in his arms, then fell down. She lifted herself up and kept walking toward Os’s arms. Os smiled and nodded, encouraging her.

Once Thelma reached Os, he lifted her up and kissed her two cheeks. “You’re persistent, just like both your dads,” Os told her. Alan gave a thumbs-up.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Os asked Alan’s parents, while unbuttoning his shirt.

“It’s only natural,” Alan’s mother Trudy said. “You wouldn’t believe how much Alan sucked my tits.” Alan shook his head and laughed.

Os held Thelma up to his nipple. She sucked and slurped at milk. “Alan knows this at a higher level than I do, but omega men do lactate,” Os said to his parents-in-law. “We had to do some backup with formula, but I was able to give her quite a bit of milk.”

“It’s really beautiful to see you breastfeeding my granddaughter,” David said to Os.

“She’s my granddaughter too,” Trudy chimed in. Thelma looked at her grandparents and suddenly coughed up milk all over Os’s shirt and chest.

“She’s still getting used to both of you you,” Os said to David and Trudy. He and David felt so complete and protective of their little family that they hadn’t even invited their respective parents over that often.

“Well if Mister Famous Scientist and Mister Star College Student weren’t too busy and maybe invited us over to their house once in a while, hmm?” Alan’s mother Trudy said.

“Sorry, Trudy,” Os said. “We’ll do better on the next baby.”

“What? There’s a…?” David and Trudy asked in unison.

“We’ve got Thelma; we need Louise, don’t we?” Alan said with a mischievous smile.

“Shhh.” Os softly put his finger on Alan’s lips to shush him, and kissed his cheek. Thelma went back to slurping at Os’s nipple. Os held her tighter, and Alan came closer and hugged Os and Thelma close, close to his chest. Alan felt filled by his husband’s and daughter’s warmth and love.

Alan leaned over to his father and stage-whispered, “No spoilers, but we might need two more pairs of bunny slippers soon.”

Author’s Afterword

Dex Bass writes feel-good contemporary male pregnancy romance.

Subscribe to Dex’s Baby Bump Bulletin:  http://eepurl.com/c2UORX

Dex Bass’s series MPreg College

Book 1: College Omega’s Secret Baby

Dex Bass’s series MPreg Hospital

Book 1: Baby For My Omega

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075V21Y8N/