Sweet Dreams - Book 3

Eighteen

Gulf could be a little intimidating on the best of days, but at just over eight months pregnant? He was positively ferocious.

Colleagues shielded behind filing cabinets when he stalked a corridor. Mild begged Bow to swear she would never leave them alone together again, after an 'incident' with an incorrect milkshake. Kaownah was suddenly extremely busy with music production projects when his older brother called. Even the Jongcheveevat's resident canine, Chopper - an adorable but tough as nails little ankle biter - would yap nervously at the sight of him pulling into the driveway.

Yap...yap...howwwwl.

So it was left to Mew to be the buffer between his omega and the world at large - as was so often the case for them.

Approaching the younger man cautiously one morning as he stood at the sink washing dishes - glowering and muttering stormily to himself, arms struggling to reach past his full moon rounded belly, the alpha pleaded to him:

"Tua-aeng kruuub, why don't you take a break from work now? They said you could start your parental leave two weeks ago...?"

"Are you saying I'm not fit for work now? You think I can't do it?", the 'tua-aeng' shot back, surely shredding his faen's nerves further with the glare that accompanied his bitter words.

"No my omega" Mew tried again, patience of a saint, "just that you must be tired na. You're so busy and work so hard and...wouldn't it be nice to take a rest and have some time to yourself before the baby arrives?" - a hopeful, winning smile.

"Time to myself?" - uh oh - "So you're saying no one can stand to be around me? That's what you mean, right? Asshole"

The tone was harsh and cutting, the spatula wielded in his hand utterly terrifying. But...

"Gulf, are you going to hit me with a spatula?"
Mew Suppasit, spirit of iron strength and here, unable to suppress the giggle that escaped his body as he asked his question.

A moment of silence - both men frowning intently at the soapy spatula - then suddenly, after what felt like decades of tension, the omega snorted aloud in mirth as his eyes too softened to a sweeter self once again.

They surrendered to the moment, just laughing until their cheeks ached, holding on to the kitchen worktops as tears streamed down faces.

"Death by...spatula. Shia! Not the most heroic way to go" Mew squeaked as he struggled to regain control of his voice.

"Who said you're the hero? I'm the hero, baby, getting rid of an annoying side character", Gulf joked, gasping for air between waves of giggles.

"Hoy! You know I'm your leading man, Gulf"

And then, in that customary, breath taking, knee weakening change of pace that these mates liked to play with...

"So lead me, my man"

His eyes were dark and partially obscured by overhanging, thick hair as he bit his lower lip, unexpected invitation pulsating in the morning air between them.

"Hmmm", Mew's eyebrow was raised. "Where would you like to be led omega?"

"Right....here", Gulf waved around a long finger in mock consideration, before pointing it to the kitchen worktop behind him.

Eyes locked together, proposition made.

Within sixty seconds they would be kissing wildly up against the unit - Mew's fingers ramming into Gulf's ass as the warm, bubbly water of the sink overflowed and splashed to the floor beneath them.

And later that same day, the younger man would hand in his parental leave final request form, would pack up his desk and leave work for the last time in many months (a sigh of relief from even the bricks and mortar of the building itself).

Mew had his ways - he was a powerfully intelligent man, of course. Yes he had his ways, not that Gulf would ever admit it.

//

It was several days later that the alpha sat in an expensive-looking, piano tinkling, restaurant on the other side of town, himself and his father the only remainders at the twelve seater table, following the conclusion of a long business lunch.

Talk had turned to parenthood, and as the white wine flowed atypically freely between the two, Mew was harvesting the wisdom of his Phor - glad to be so much closer than they had once been. Those lost days before Gulf had empowered him to stand up and be himself in this world.

"You will be a wonderful father, Suppasit. Don't ever doubt it. You've got strength, love, kindness - and a hell of a lot more patience than me. Your mother and I barely knew one another when you were born. I probably didn't support her enough...but we did it better with Jom. You and Gulf though? Your daughter is destined for great things, mark my words. Future CEO of Wings of Jongcheveevat..." - he held his hands aloft, eyes raised upwards, as if seeing his own vision of the future playing out on the chandelier above him.

"Hush Phor", Mew was shiny eyed and proud, even as he denied it, "Don't let Gulf hear you talk like that, you know how important free choice is to him. To both of us"

"But wouldn't it be perfect?", the ageing man was wistful now..."What a dynasty"

So Mew nodded, happy to indulge his father in the heartfelt ambitions and dreams of a soon-to-be first time grandparent.

Besides...perhaps their daughter would take the business route after all? Both of her parents had a talent for it. But then her father and uncle were also passionate musicians so-

-Suddenly, such thoughts were forgotten, cast aside and trampled upon, as the alpha clutched at his stomach in agony, crying out at the searing pains that gripped his entire torso.

"Son?" came his father's voice, eyes wide with alarm as he rose from his seat abruptly, upturned chair clattering to the floor behind him, piano concerto halted.

But...

'Help. Need you. Help me'

It was Gulf via soul bond.

It was Gulf's pain he could feel.