Denial is the Way : Pregnancy [COMPLETED]

Month Three (1)

"My chest feels tender, and my nipples are sensitive," Ender complained from the couch. He touched his nipples, softly rubbing them; it left him with a tingling feeling.

Nevan watched him from the other couch with darkened eyes. He cleared the heated expression from his face, looking away as he took a deep breath. "Ender, stop touching your chest."

Ender put his hand down, huffing, "They hurt, but at the same time feel funny." Then he stood up, making his way towards Nevan. He sat down next to the man, raising his shirt, "Does my chest look swollen to you?"

Once Nevan looked at Ender, he instantly cleared his mind because the man looked adorable enough to eat. His chest looked a bit bigger than usual while his nipples stuck out. And his stomach had a small noticeable bump to it.

"Ender, I don't know what you want me to do?" Nevan answered, gripping the edge of the couch. He felt the need to keep his hand busy.

But Ender grabbed his hand, bringing it to his chest so Nevan could touch it. "Does it feel like they are turning into breasts? I hope not; I'm a male. I don't want breasts."

Ender flinched a bit at the other's touch because his chest was overly sensitive to the point of hurting. But he wanted Nevan to feel how swollen it looked.

Nevan's fingers trembled as they touched Ender's chest. He quickly pulled his hand back, standing up as he moved a few steps from Ender. "Calm down, you won't grow breasts, and I will see what we can do about the tenderness you're feeling. But in the meantime, I'm going to cook something. Are you hungry?"

Ender pouted a bit at Nevan not giving him an answer as he pulled his shirt down. Even though he wanted to have little contact with Nevan when it came to touching, he still wanted someone's opinion on his chest. Maybe he should see his mother and ask her about it.

"A little," Ender answered.

Nevan tilted his head before walking to the kitchen to make some food. Ender sighed, grabbing a pillow as he laid down on the couch, hugging it. His mood has been all over the place lately.

Besides his chest hurting and feeling sensitive, Ender felt a bit needy. But he has been hiding it since he still wanted the space between him and Nevan. Maybe he should see his mother.

Ender stood up, taking the pillow with him as he went to get his phone. Once he grabbed it from his room, he came back to the living room. With one hand on the pillow, he used the other to text his mother.

Ender: Mom, are you free today? And my chest feels tender; what should I do?

Mother: I'm free; there are a few rooms at the house that needed repainting. And get a heating pad or a warm cloth for your chest; heat helps.

Ender: Can I come help with painting? I have nothing to do since I quit writing. And I will try a warm cloth later.

Ender was a famous writer that wrote eight bestsellers. He wrote under a pen name and rarely appeared at any meet-ups or interviews since he did not want his face out there. Ender enjoyed living an incognito life.

Last year, he quit writing, becoming bored with it as he honestly never had any ambitions on his career. Sometimes he thought being doted on by his family made him lazy to do any job.