Damian's POV
June returned back to work at the animal hospital for two months. Each day was a challenge for her, the first being the hardest, but my strong, stubborn, amazing wife pushed through.
I was so, so proud of her.
I lasted ten months longer in Vice, turning down the permanent Captain's position for a different direction. Losing June realigned all of my priorities and I refocused my life. I only wished I hadn't needed that kick in the ass to get my head out of it.
Like usual, grunts and toenail scratches greeted me at home, followed by thrashes of Bullet's tongue over my fingers.
"Hey buddy." Kneeling down, I rubbed my palm around his ears. "You good for Mommy today? Of course, you were, weren't you?"
The more I doted on my buddy, the more his body wriggled around the floor. Pure doggy happiness radiated from him as he looked up from his back, paws lifted for a belly scratch.
A soft squeal lifted my eyes up. June stood, one hip jutting out to the side, wet stains on her T-shirt and sweatpants, and exhausting soaking all of her. I would've chuckled at her stealing my pants, going by the cuffs puddling around her ankles, but her bloodshot eyes pressed my lips closed. Dark circles ringed her sunken eyes, and her hair... best not to describe her hair.
Fucking beautiful.
"Thank fuck you're home." She extended her arms with a grunt, her daily strain coating each word. "Take him."
My arms reached out to the wide, brown eyes and toothless squeal directed at me. "Hi, Bud! There's my -"
"Just take him." June's arms buckled, wiggling two chubby, fat roll legs where they were suspended. "There's a bottle in the warmer, I'm going to pump and crash."
Eight weeks after June's birth control was removed, Alex came into our life. June became so sick that she was hospitalized four times, then quarantined at home for most of the pregnancy. She never once complained - except whenever she threw up in her hair - and glowed with happiness.
Her being so sick dampened my excitement with concern, but I snuck my glances at her. She cradled her belly, dipping her chin and murmuring the sweetest words of love and loftiest ambitions. Every day, I grew more appreciative of her carrying our son, even when she groaned at every movement, side rolled to get out of bed, and gained the ability to lose her keys within a confined space.
Daily.
"You go pump and crash." I leaned over and pressed a kiss onto her dry lips. She tasted like exhaustion. "Do you need a shower?"
Her head tilted back, and she shot me a harsh glare. "Is that your way of telling me I stink?"
"No." I moved my lips to her oily forehead. "It's my way of getting you some alone time to relax. I'll take him to walk Bullet, feed him, and put him to bed."
"Feed the bottomless stomach first." She grunted over her shoulder. "That's what we were struggling with before you arrived. Someone here's more obsessed with my tits than you."
I laughed, bouncing my shoulders. In a cruel twist, June's breasts grew larger when she was pregnant, then doubled once she started breastfeeding.
And I'm not allowed a single touch.
June's, "They're leaking and too sensitive!" was all I needed to snap my hands to myself.
My dick, confined to an eight-week time out, was beyond ready when her doctor cleared her for sex ten painful days ago. June confessed, in her words, that she was, "drier than the Sahara down there and exhausted as fuck," so we waited.
"But seriously." She sighed, running her hands through her frazzled hair. "I got halfway through pumping, and someone wouldn't have it, so he's half-fed."
"Better top you off, huh?" I asked Alex, who gurgled. "Go on, June, I'll get him into bed."
One side benefit of Alex's insatiable appetite was how long he slept. June's supply wasn't enough at first, so she pumped in between feedings. The kid would be out for ten hours straight.
"And don't forget his bath." Her lips brushed a kiss on my cheek. "Thank you."
"Food first and bath second." I shot a thumbs up, smirking at Bullet's tail wagging.
I swear he has every food-related word memorized.
Since June was on Alex-duty all-day, I took care of him the most I could for a six-hour shift so she could catch some sleep. My nipples were useless but giving him a bottle before bed made him sleep longer.
Grabbing a towel and the bottle June prepared, I flopped down on the sofa. Alex's appetite exceeded Bullet's, who took the floor at my feet. He took a few initial sniffs at Alex when we brought him home and would sleep on the rug in Alex's room if we allowed him to, but we never did.
Wails of protest snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Okay, okay. Here." I gave my fussy son his bottle, settling him instantly into stillness. Ten chubby fingers grasped it.
Big, round, hazel eyes gazed up at me as he chugged back his bottle. From the moment he came out, Alexander was no doubt my son. With June doing all the work bringing him into this world, I was sorry that our son shared none of her features.
June didn't mind him being a mirror image of me, except for being bald as a cueball. Two months later, he hadn't grown any hair, but his hard-headed personality was obvious. He banshee-screamed whenever hungry or tired and didn't move much but charmed every stranger with a toothless, gaping smile.
I spent the duration of June's pregnancy worrying about her and our future. Once Alex was placed in my hands, my heart exploded. It doubled with him placed on my chest, a soft, fragile, tiny body of warmth.
With one look, one touch, my world's axis tilted. A new sense of gravity pulled my life into focus, driven by Alex's complete dependence on us. June was my family but holding my son, watching him grow from a pink, wrinkled potato to a recognizable baby was a process I was honored to witness. Quiet moments, me drinking in his changing features while he downed his bottles in ten minutes, became the second-best part of my days.
The best part was coming home to their excitement.
My family.
My reason for coming home.
My -
Alex interrupted my thoughts with a loud burp.
"Alright. I get it." I heaved him onto my shoulder, patting and rubbing until he released another. Wiping his mouth, I chuckled at the two drops left in the bottle.
Alex was at the age I could put him down in his pack and play or under his toy arch, but I preferred strapping him to my chest in June's hands-free carrier.
June and I went through many, many trials and errors caring for a newborn, one blown out diaper at a time, to a face splash of pee, cradle cap and diaper rash, cluster feeding that left me vowing to never eat Indian curry ever again, and first giggles.
Talking through my day, I cleaned up for June, washing the never-ending stack of bottles and breast pump parts, then checked the fridge to make sure she had enough food for tomorrow.
"Daddy got to see a real piece of shi—scum locked up today."
Alex was never impressed with my days, but he liked when I strapped him into his car seat and pushed his stroller while walking Bullet. I assumed it was all the lights from buildings, since he never looked at me. Bullet's leash yanks were harder to manage with Alex's car seat tucked into the stroller, but with it was a one-handed challenge I happily accepted.
We still rented our Upper West side place, but June didn't know that I hoped we would change that in the next six months.
"Before you're one," I told Alex. "We need more space, including a yard for you."
Back inside, Bullet ate his dinner while I gave Alex a bath. Washing him clean, he kicked and splashed on repeat until he peed, ending that fun.
Wrapping him up in a towel, I kissed his forehead and held him to my chest. Overturning his tub in our shower, I carried him into his room. Surrounded by the teddy bear theme June picked out, Alex downed another bottle. His eyes drooped while I read to him. Halloween approached, so we read June's choice of Goodnight Goon.
The short book almost put me to sleep halfway through, yawning to see Alex out cold. Draping him on his back, I fought the urge to cover him with a blanket. Instead, I rubbed his soft, bald head, watching his parted lips and chest rise and fall.
"Goodnight."
Nudging Bullet out, silence greeted me outside Alex's room.
Too much silence.
Folding my arms, I took in June, sprawled out in bed with her breast pump hooked up and running. The uncomfortable-looking tugs on her nipples killed my laugh at her state. Her mouth was parted, and her head tipped to an uncomfortable angle, releasing soft snorts. A discarded book laid next to her.
"This looks painful," I whispered, turning off her pump. Unsure of how the parts worked, I rubbed her shoulder. "Hey, sweetheart. Sorry, but -"
"Oh, fuck!" Her eyes flipped open, jolting me back.
June's yawn turned into a groan when she sat two full bottles hanging off her chest. "At least we have extra."
I hated waking her up, but she was back to bed by the time I showered and brushed my teeth. My only complaint with our segregated evenings was that I ate my dinners in the office but seeing the color back in June's cheeks was worth the short-term sacrifice.
Wasting no time, she snuggled up to my side. "Thank you. Did you have a good day?" she murmured into my shoulder.
"Surprisingly, yeah." I heaved a side, rubbing her arm. "Ashton Marx was finally indicted."
The financier of June's kidnapping was much more difficult to track down than the actual perps' associates within MS-13. I wasn't surprised when the feds linked Samantiego's financial accounts to Ashton Marx, the millionaire john I put behind bars and threatened me on his day in court.
"Hopefully he'll never see life outside prison. But get some rest."
"I'm not tired," her voice dropped low, to a level I hadn't heard since we were limited to a lot of doggy-style action.
My dick inflated in two seconds. "You sure?"
"Are you?" she teased, climbing on me and straddling my hips with her knees.
I cupped her cheek, thumbing the soft skin. "I don't want it to hurt you."
The heat pouring from her eyes swelled me under the folds of her skin. "Then we'll finally put that lube from Celia's shower to use."
While that was more than a year ago, I wasn't sure if it was -
Why am I second-guessing this?
"Lube up." I smacked the side of June's ass.
My amazing, beautiful, sexy wife shook her head no. "Unless you want to risk a number two ten months from now like Chris and Emma, your cock isn't getting anywhere near my lady bits."
"Oh." I couldn't hide my disappointment because her hands were tugging at my underwear before I responded further. "Oh."
The amount of time I lasted with her lips around me was embarrassingly short. Her mouth was wet and warm, rolling my eyes back. She pressed her tongue along the veiny underside, and pleasure shot down into my toes from her initial suck.
June's hums vibrated tingles down my shaft, moving in the opposite direction of the ache building in me. Releasing weeks of frustration on poor June, I sprawled in a sweating, gasping, lightheaded mess.
"Fuck, June."
"Got everything?" June's eyes glazed over at my question, running through the baby shit list items before we left.
Today, I traded in my tactical gear for... baby gear. Although technically we already owned more baby contraptions than I knew existed.
Along with the diaper bag filled with clothes, diapers, burp cloths, and an extra bottle, we also had a list of things to do before we left with him. By three months, we had our system down of June pumping while I fed, burped, and changed him into a two-hour window of opportunity.
"I think so." She handed me his carrier, which I tucked under my arm and smiled at his heavy-lidded eyes.
I propped the door open with my butt. "Think he'll sleep through it?"
"I hope so," she muttered, tucking herself back into her bra.
We couldn't strap a car seat onto my bike, so June and I took an ordered car for my second-to-last day at the 34th. A tightness squeezed my chest, drawing my lips together. The finality of my decision weighed me down, even though it was right for me and my family,
I think my going away party was more for my staff to celebrate me leaving. Or, in Bryson's case, it was a chance to throw heart-eyes at a particular special guest of honor. After Aurelia's tip led me back to Luca, I made sure she received the reward for June's whereabouts. We stayed in touch through her NCO, where I learned the reward was the jolt of assistance she needed to legally move her family to New Jersey.
The more hands I shook, attached to people who wished me to stay, the tighter my chest became, but it was time to move on.
"It's been an honor, Damian." Hernandez' was the last hand in the line that I shook, his eyes misting at June and Alex. "Seeing you grow and mature. We'll miss you."
"Thank you, Sir." Coughing through the dryness choking my throat, I squeezed his hand hard. Even though a hardass, his second-father figure approach was unconventional for an NYPD supervisor, but he'd forged my career as much as my work efforts. "For everything."
Hooking my elbow around June's shoulder, I kissed the side of her head. "Ready for a change?"
Tickling Alex's feet, she threw me a charming smile. "With my two favorite guys? Absolutely."