Hook, Line, and Sinker (Flirting with the Zodiac Book 1) Page 12

  “Huh?”

  “If you both wanted each other bad enough to have a baby, then why the hell aren’t you two still boning?!” She looked ready to murder Lawrence with a chopstick, when the waitress conveniently swung by again, yelling, “Rainbow roll!”

  She stared at them, then left the dish on the table and walked away muttering something under her breath. Val melted back into her seat. Lawrence relaxed. “Ty’s, uh, helping … with something.”

  The silver-haired man shot him a nervous look. Ty glared at him. Great cover. Lawrence was going to be shit at business if he couldn’t learn to at least halfway lie.

  Val scoffed. “Seems like he’s doing more than helping,” she sneered, and Ty smacked her, barking, “What’s that supposed to mean?!” before Lawrence could say anything more.

  ***

  The rest of lunch was almost silent; someone else might have chalked it up to the food arriving. The walk home was awkward too, though, something heavy hanging in the air around them, and neither Ty nor Lawrence wanted to address it.

  Fucking Val. Of course she just had to open her big, fat mouth in front of Lawrence …

  Ty knew exactly what she meant when she said he was doing more than helping. She meant he was serving his own pathetic little desires.

  Which was true. He was pretty sure he’d hated almost every minute of being pregnant thus far, and he didn’t think that was going to change much.

  But he did like touching his hand to his stomach, the thrill that went through him when he thought about their baby. He wasn’t quite sure why he liked it so much—beyond even just a desperate move to keep Lawrence with him forever, there was something about the scenario …

  But Lawrence didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to make it even more awkward than this whole thing already was by admitting he’d been nursing a crush on Lawrence for years and had agreed to do this because he couldn’t stand the thought of not having Lawrence in his life.

  Because that would mean Lawrence’s mother was right. Or at least halfway right, anyway.

  “I’m taking a bath,” he told Lawrence; his roommate grunted in reply but didn’t look up from his laptop.

  Ty wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He shut himself into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub while the water poured in. He stripped down, then crawled into the tub, rolling over once, then twice.

  He ran his hands down his abdomen, felt the curve of his belly against his hands.

  He slid his hands up, cupped his boobs. Until today, he hadn’t thought much more about his chest since Lawrence had remarked on his nipples being huge. That had been weeks ago, though, and his nipples were even larger, darker, now sitting atop two small mounds of flesh.

  So weird.

  He released his hands and stared up at the ceiling for a long time. Finally, the water went cold, and he clambered out, wrapping a towel around his hips.

  He padded to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway when a low whistle rang out. He looked to the kitchen, to Lawrence sitting at the table, hands poised over the laptop keyboard. “Damn,” he said, “Val wasn’t kidding.”

  “Huh? Oh. No.” Ty cupped his chest again. “I hadn’t even noticed until today.”

  “How?” Lawrence asked, scooting out of his chair. “Those are pretty … noticeable.”

  “You claimed you hadn’t noticed them either,” Ty retorted.

  “You’ve been hiding under hoodies and oversized tees.”

  Ty hummed as Lawrence came closer. The other man hesitated, hands hovering in the air. “Can I … touch?”

  “Uh. Sure. I guess—”

  Lawrence’s hands were on him so fast, it wasn’t funny. He was tender though, hands cupping swollen tissue gently, heat searing into Ty’s skin. “Fuck, fishy,” he whispered as he lifted them. He flicked at a nipple with his thumb, traced a circle around it and finally pinched it to a point.

  “Lawrence.”

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” his husband whispered. “God, you’re …” His train of thought apparently jumped tracks, because he blurted, “Are you gonna feed our baby like this?”

  “Uh.”

  Lawrence was on his knees, his hands still under Ty’s breasts. “Can I?” he asked, his breath ghosting over a nipple.

  “S-sure,” Ty stammered, rewrapping his towel in a poor attempt to hide his growing erection.

  He dropped it the second Lawrence had his mouth wrapped around Ty’s left nipple, tongue flicking it softly. His hands flew to those silvery locks, tugged on them. “Fuck, Lawrence.”

  Lawrence groaned around him, then sucked harder. He pulled back, pressed a kiss to the nipple. “So sexy, starfish.”

  “You, uh, like that?” He didn’t need an answer; he could feel Lawrence’s cock against his leg.

  “So fucking hot, Ty,” Lawrence whispered, then wrapped his mouth around his right nipple. His free hand was playing with the other, and Ty couldn’t deny he liked it either; he was fully unsheathed, his erection pressing against Lawrence’s throat.

  Lawrence dropped his hand, grabbed Ty’s ass. He licked his way down Ty’s abdomen, and Ty dropped back against the wall, fingers scrabbling for purchase. “Oh God,” he groaned.

  “Love it,” Lawrence murmured against his skin, then nipped at him, “love you, love your body, your body with our baby in it …”

  He tipped his head back as Lawrence licked his length, groaned and yanked on Lawrence’s hair. He shut his eyes tight as Lawrence’s breath ghosted across his skin.

  “May I?” Lawrence asked, glancing up.

  “Please,” Ty groaned.

  Lawrence wasted no time, sliding his lips over Ty’s length, sucking hard on him. His fingers dipped lower, finding Ty’s dripping slit. Ty’s knees were weak. He wrenched on Lawrence’s hair and rocked his hips, driving his cock deeper into wet heat. “Ah,” Ty cried, “Lawrence!”

  Lawrence pulled back, wrapped his hand around Ty, stroking him fast. “Do it,” he whispered against Ty’s hip, “come for me.”

  “Laz!” Ty jolted forward, digging his hands in deep, coming over Lawrence’s cheeks, his hair. He collapsed against the wall, knees giving out. Lawrence caught him under the arms, keeping him from falling the entire way to the floor. Ty’s chest was tight, like his breath was caught between his ribs, like his gills were out and he’d forgotten how to breathe air.

  Lawrence tightened his grip on his arm, fingers almost bruising. Their gazes connected, and they were frozen like that for what felt like eternity, eyes boring into each other. Lawrence smiled nervously at last, then stood, offered Ty his hand. Ty got back to shaking feet, took his towel from Lawrence. He clutched it all the way back to his bedroom, until the door was shut and locked.

  Sixteen

  The days grew longer; the domes were full of life, bursting with flowers and trees. Ty appropriated some of Lawrence’s tees and dared his roommate to say anything about it (it was kind of amazing how quickly Lawrence shut up about everything when Ty blamed the baby). Much to his chagrin, though, Lawrence’s tees didn’t fit before long, and it was only a couple of weeks before he was grumbling about his shorts not fitting again.

  He felt useless, brainless, lazy. He had nowhere to go and nothing to do most days, and it was hard not to feel like maybe he should being doing something. But morning sickness lingered with him, and he slept late and went to bed early to try and combat the fact his insomnia had kicked up full force. He spent most of the night tossing and turning, getting up and pacing. Dr. K figured it was just his hormones, but Ty wasn’t sure how long he could put up with it. And people telling him to enjoy sleep while he still could, that he’d get even less when the baby arrived …

  That helped. So, so much. He was ready to tear his hair out.

  Still, he tried to get some viola practice in every day, but it was difficult when he felt like a zombie. It was even worse when he had to go into the shop.

  About the only thing that seemed to have improve
d was his appetite, and he wished it hadn’t, because he couldn’t quite convince himself that his belly was “all baby,” as Wanda, the clerk at the store, had assured him last week when he’d been back yet again (Mom had told him to take a size up, but nothing fit properly anyway).

  On top of all that, he hadn’t even felt the baby move yet. Wanda had asked him, his mother had asked him, his father had asked him, and everyone at D&D was asking now, hesitantly poised to pat him or rub him or something, and honestly, he was going to start taking people’s hands off shortly.

  Dr. K told him everything was progressing just fine; baby was always very active on his ultrasounds. Baby just wasn’t all that big, although Ty felt more than big enough. Apparently that was a function of biology—it seemed his Piscean traits were most dominant in how the pregnancy was progressing; he hadn’t formed a placenta, and the egg had instead embedded right in the lining of his pouch. The soft shell of the egg would continue to expand, giving a larger surface area for the baby to draw from as it grew.

  Ty didn’t fully understand it, but the important thing was the baby had a heartbeat and seemed healthy.

  Ty hadn’t gotten into any of the classes he’d applied for, so all he was doing was trying to practice and working at the store. Lawrence seemed happy enough to support them, which Ty felt guilty about, but there was really no help for it. Dr. K had said he had to keep stress to a minimum, and taking any kind of job would have ratcheted that up.

  He’d tried cleaning the house, but Lawrence had yelled at him about moving boxes and bookcases (well, as much Lawrence ever yelled ), and he’d cried for a solid day after, bursting into tears every time Lawrence looked at him. Then he’d been so embarrassed about crying, he’d start sobbing again. Hormones really were the worst.

  He’d just returned home from his sixteen-week (halfway, he reminded himself miserably) check-up with Dr. K and was thinking about lunch. He checked his phone to see if he’d missed a call from his mother about going in to the shop, but there was nothing. He was thankful for that; he’d worked yesterday and the number of people who thought they could touch him just because he was knocked up …

  He was going to murder someone before this was over.

  He frowned when he saw Lawrence’s shoes at the door, then peered into the kitchen. No Lawrence, but there was a take-out box with lobster rolls in it. “Laz?” he called, peering around.

  He poked at the box, but there was no note. He frowned, then poked his head into Lawrence’s room.

  Still nothing. He circled back to the kitchen just as the front door swung open and Lawrence stumbled in. “Oh hey,” he said. “Those are for you.”

  “What are you doing home?”

  Lawrence flushed. “I, um. Took half the day off?”

  “What for?” Ty asked.

  Lawrence paused at the table, tapping his knuckles on the wood. “Raoul rented a cottage and wants everyone to go to the beach for a few days.”

  Ty leaned back against the counter. “The hell do I want to go to the beach for?”

  “It’s the last summer before we have a baby?”

  Ty glared at his husband. “So what? We can’t go to the beach after we have a kid?”

  “I just meant—”

  “I mean, you should have told me if we were gonna ruin our lives that bad, have a kid and not be able to do anything ever again.”

  “I meant it will change things,” Lawrence huffed, then looked at the tabletop. “Nobody else in our friend group has kids. They like to drink and smoke and do we want the baby to be around that? I mean, I love our friends, don’t get me wrong. It’s just …”

  Ty felt his shoulders sinking. “Things change,” he offered softly. “People drift apart.”

  “I don’t want to,” Lawrence said sternly, “but next summer, we’ll be busy being parents.”

  “Fine. We’ll go.” Ty shoved a lobster roll into his mouth to keep from saying anything more.

  ***

  They took a taxi out to the spaceport, then took a flight between New Martia and the Valley Marinarius, which had become the premier vacation spot on Mars over the years. Someone had had the brilliant idea to use parts of the valley to make lakes and rivers, and cottages had sprung up along its edges. Ty spent most of their trip shifting uncomfortably and adjusting his waistband so it wasn’t digging into him quite as much.

  Raoul had rented a large cottage along one of the artificial lakes, and the water glimmered blue as the sunlight glinted off it. The peaks of the cottage’s roof were also glittering, speaking of rising heat, the depths of summer.

  Lawrence insisted on taking Ty’s luggage (Ty usually traveled with just a backpack, but he’d needed more clothes and hygiene products lately), and the two of them headed up the squeaking steps of the cottage. Radu and Ali were sitting on the porch, both of them with joints in hand. They raised their hands in a wave, then quickly stubbed their joints out, a look of surprise and concern crossing their faces. They were honestly like twins sometimes.

  “Guys,” Ty chided, but Lawrence nudged him toward the door and grinned at their friends.

  “Honestly,” Ty hissed as he stumbled through the door, “I don’t need to be treated like glass, Lawrence.”

  “You’re not supposed to smoke; it’s bad for the baby.”

  “That doesn’t mean they can’t.”

  “Isn’t it nice they’re being conscientious, Ty? That they’re thinking about you and the baby?”

  “I don’t want to be a pain in the ass,” Ty protested, then muttered, “I’m surprised to see Radu. I thought he fell off the face of the planet.”

  Lawrence was about to reply when Ty was dragged into a violent hug.

  “You made it!” Val cried, grinning.

  “Of course,” he sneered as she pushed him back, her gaze evaluating, her grin barely in check. “Just because I’m knocked up doesn’t mean I suddenly lost all sense of direction, Valerie.”

  She grinned. “Lawrence said you’ve been nesting.”

  “I’ve been what.”

  “Which room is ours? Where’s Raoul?” Lawrence darted off down the hall.

  “I’m not nesting,” Ty spat.

  Val hummed like she disagreed, following Lawrence. Ty trailed her. “Laz was saying you’ve been trying to clean.”

  “Because I have nothing to do!”

  They paused in the doorway to one of the bedrooms. Lawrence glanced up from Ty’s suitcase, which he was hurriedly unpacking. Ty lifted his brows. “Valerie.”

  “Yes, Tydeus?”

  It wasn’t unusual for him and Lawrence to share a room, but … “There’s only one bed in here.”

  “Mm.”

  “Why is there only one bed?”

  She patted his cheek; her grin was sickly sweet. “You’re a married couple, and this isn’t the Flintstones.”

  “Fuck off,” he spat, because he had no idea what she was even referring to.

  “We can share a bed,” Lawrence said. “We’ve done it before.”

  “Obviously,” Val drawled, glancing toward Ty’s middle. Lawrence turned bright pink.

  Ty rolled his eyes. “I see what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”

  “Oh, please enlighten me. What am I up to?”

  “You think you’re going to ‘fix’ our relationship by getting us to sleep in the same bed.”

  “Well,” she drawled.

  Ty shook a finger at her. “Listen, Val, our relationship is just fine the way it is. We’re friends, and that’s fine.”

  “You could still get laid,” Val said, then pressed her lips tightly together and looked at the floor.

  “It’s none of your business,” Ty hissed, feeling tears burning at the edges of his eyes. Oh, goddamn, he hated being pregnant.

  “I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re bitching about how you’re, and I quote, so horny you could die,” she said, then pushed off the wall. “I’m headed down to the water. Raoul’s out on the bo
at right now.”

  “A boat!” Lawrence cried as she walked off, and Ty shoved him. “Ow, what?”

  Ty glared at him. “You could have said something.”

  “Like what?” Lawrence rubbed his shoulder.

  “I don’t know, maybe that we’re happy as we are and she doesn’t need to stick her nose in.”

  “Are we happy?” Lawrence asked, and then silence fell over them, descending like a death knell.

  Ty stared at him, trying to kickstart his brain into making syllables, but his throat had constricted and there was nothing. “What more do you want from me?” he spat finally. His heart was hammering, his pulse throbbing in his neck, making speech difficult. He felt sick, dizzy.

  What more could Lawrence possibly want? Or had he realized this was all some horrible mistake and—

  Fuck, Lawrence looked so goddamn guilty. “I,” he started, but Ty twisted away, his stomach turning over a couple of times. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be sick or not.

  He tried to calm his breathing, shut his eyes. He should have known better, he should have known better—

  His stomach still wouldn’t calm. He’d always hated the comparison to butterflies, but that was what it felt like then, a rapid fluttering motion, so light, barely perceptible, and—

  He sat down with a thump, the bed springs squealing under him.

  “Fishy?” Lawrence’s voice swam through his ears, panicked but murky.

  Hands on his shoulders, warm and safe. “Are you okay?” Lawrence’s voice was closer now, and he turned to his husband.

  “I … I think the baby’s moving,” he croaked at last, touched a hand to his stomach.

  “Oh,” Lawrence said, dragging Ty against him in a half-hug. “You …”

  Ty shook his head. “I’m … It’s so weird, it … Maybe it’s not. I don’t know.”

  Lawrence squeezed him a little tighter. Silence reigned again, but it was safer this time, somehow, almost comforting.

  “Do you … want to lie down?” Lawrence asked.

  Ty took a deep breath. “Let’s … let’s go down to the water,” he said finally, getting back to his feet. The feeling had passed; maybe he was wrong.