Paint Me Blue [bxb; mpreg]

Chapter Twenty

D. 19th

"They found out," Reese whispers tiredly, "and they kicked me out."

Payton stares at his boyfriend in horror, hands clenching into fists, "what?"

But Reese is tired and the only thing he offers is a small shrug.

"They just... what the..." Payton trails off, not knowing how to express the anger he feels, so instead he focuses on his baby boy, "are you okay?"

Reese doesn't really know.  He kind of feels hollow and exhausted and achy.  His hand tightens around the ultrasound picture and when he looks down at it, he wants to cry again.

Payton sighs and takes a seat beside Reese, holding the boy in his arms and gently prying the picture out of his hand.

"He-He crumpled it," Reese whimpers,  "and stepped on it and told me to get rid of our baby.  I said no and he-he kicked me out, said I was a disappointment and an embarrassment and an-an attention seeker who spreads their thighs."

With each word out of his boyfriends chattering lips he gets angrier and more pissed off. 

"Did you walk here?" Payton asks.

A small sniffle and a nod.

"You should've called me, I would've-"

"He took my phone and my keys, made sure I had nothing but my clothes."

"Shit baby," Payton curses.

And he realizes something that makes him even more furious and sick to the stomach.  They kicked Reese out just days before his birthday, before Reese could even turn 18.  They kicked him out alone and in the cold while fucking pregnant!

Payton stands up and reaches for the front door, intent on finding the man who could be so cruel and heartless to his own son, to his pregnant son.

A warm hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him back, a small body soon pressed against him.

"Don't," Reese mutters, "'s not worth it."

"You're worth it," Payton argues.

In any other situation Reese would've smiled at how corny Payton is, but he can't bring himself to do that.  He hurts all over.

Payton's hand rests on his belly before kneeling down and pressing a warm kiss to it, nuzzling against it.

Reese runs his hands through Payton's unruly hair with a small sigh.

"Come on," the jock whispers, "let's get some food in you and then you can sleep.  I know you're tired."

Reese nods and soon finds himself in the kitchen with Payton who tries to figure out what to cook so as not to upset Reese's stomach.

"-do you want chicken stir fry or pasta or cereal-"

Reese isn't paying attention, though.  His eyes are on the little ultrasound picture hung up on the fridge door proudly.  His trembling fingers trace the edges and he nearly flinches when the picture is snatched from in front of him.  He wants to protest and cry, thinking it'll be destroyed like the last one.  But Payton only takes off the sticky tape and hands the picture to Reese.

"Here, baby boy," Payton offers.

Reese takes it and doesn't let go of it, not even when he's finally eating something.  And when he's curled up in Payton's bed (their bed, Payton insists), he places the picture on the bedside table.  Payton tucks him in, making sure the cold can't touch him before turning off the lights and stepping out the room.

He calls his parents to tell them what happened.  His mother is completely indignant about how Reese was treated at home.  His father doesn't answer.

He scrubs his face and thinks about what to do.

He knows what to do.

He needs to take care of Reese and their baby.