Firstborn [malexmale]

Prologue

Prologue

Positive.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there on the toilet lid, eyes wide and glued to the stick in his hand. Glaring back at him was a cute pink plus sign surrounded by cheap white plastic. On the floor between his feet was a package of pregnancy tests, six sticks scattered around it, all with the same pink plus signs.

And still, he couldn't believe what he was looking at.

Positive. It was a word he'd been hoping, praying to see, but at the same time, felt a roar of anxiety about. He could already feel it making his heart kick into overdrive. He wasn't sure if he was excited, or terrified out of his mind. He'd planned this, meticulously.

He'd been on birth control hormones for a couple years now. He'd finally pulled the plug. He was close to the end of his tour. He was ready to kick back and take a break from dancing, and he was ready... to start a family. He and Thorn had talked about it before. He wanted to have everything ready in advance. So he'd started by getting off the pills. After that, he'd gotten help from Remi and Castiel, their servants, to renovate one of the rooms for a child.

Gender didn't matter to him either. He always thought of it as a silly concept. So the room had been designed with warm beiges, toasty browns, delicate golds, with only the safest of furniture. He'd had everything else in the house baby proofed as well, including the stairs. He'd read every single baby book known to their species, and even a few human ones. He'd decorated the room carefully, made sure it wasn't too sterile and staunch, but not cluttered either. He bought cute toys, from teddy bears to dolls, bought toys to help the child's brain function at high capacity, bought only the finest of musics for his child to listen to.

He'd gone to see his doctor in Annwn several times, because there was just no way he could discuss this with either of his fathers. Hades, Lord of the Greek Underworld that bore his name, god of science and magic and wealth, powerful enough to consume the hearts of both his parents, a powerful warrior the likes of which this pantheon had never seen... And then there was Blaine, a foul-mouthed faerie who suffered from a combination of PTSD and bipolar disorder, who had his own two children to worry about aside from his eldest ones. Neither one made a good parent to be around during pregnancy, and in an attempt to get pregnant.

Hades loathed the idea of him having a child. And it made sense; Hades himself was no father of the year. He certainly had gotten better, no doubt about that. He loved intensely, loved deeply, and would destroy anyone who got near his own children. However, the emotional connection, the tender love and care, such things were not the god's forte and as such, had left not only himself, but his children emotionally damaged. In his mind, having children was difficult. It was stressful. It could lead to all sorts of problems, and most of all... it led to weakness.

On the other hand, Blaine was different, in his own ways. While he shared Hades's bitterness, his sharp tongue, his crude humor, Blaine loved his children tenderly. He wept with them, he laughed with them, he played with them, he cradled them and whispered countless sweet nothings. He adored children, especially his own, and he wanted such joy for his own children. In his eyes, children made you stronger.

So how was Ambrosius ever to find a middle ground between such contrasting mindsets?

He sighed, reaching up to rub at his face before he looked back down at the stick in his hand.

He was fully prepared. He had a room. He had savings. He had appointments, medications, vitamins, the whole works.

And yet, as he sat there on the toilet lid, listening to the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, the distant sound of wind sweeping through the desert land outside, he felt completely and totally unprepared for any of this.

But sitting here enclosed in the bathroom for hours was not going to help matters, he decided.

He took a deep breath and gathered up his garbage, tossing it in the nearby plastic bin. He ran his hands through his thick black hair, took a deep breath and looked into the mirror across from him above the vanity. He leaned on the smooth quartz countertops, met his own glowing electric blue eyes, and forced himself to suck it up.

He planned for this. He did everything he could.

And he wasn't going to be alone.

That remind solidified his resolve and he went to the door, opening it up to the bedroom he shared with his beloved. Said beloved creature was laying on the bed, still fast asleep. His tousled dark hair fell in beautiful waves across the cream colored pillow. Waves of chocolate, Ambrosius always thought with a smile. Those intense hazel eyes were closed, dark lashes cascading against his tanned skin, several days worth of beard forming on his jawline, his upper lip, all the way up to his sideburns. Even unshaved, disheveled, and clearly exhausted, his lover was beautiful.

His poor Thorn. The male had been working nonstop the past few days, a sudden intake of souls flooding into Purgatory. He'd been slaving over paperwork for days, skipped a night of sleep, had sat beside Ambrosius has he debated purchasing the pregnancy tests. The male was completely drained now, had been so out of it, he hadn't even woken when Ambrosius left the room to use the restroom and had stayed locked inside for...

Ambrosius glanced at the clock.

Two hours.

He rubbed his temples before he cleared his throat and went to the bed. The room was warm, but the gentle breeze from outside, billowing the silky gauzy curtains, was a welcome surprise. The marble floor felt cold on the underside of Ambrosius's feet as he walked to the bed, stepping onto the plush Persian rug before he climbed onto the bed. It dipped below his weight as he shuffled through the layers of creamy sheets and the bulky brown duvet. He shifted until he could get right up against Thorn, who sighed in his sleep and rolled over to gather Ambrosius in his arms.

Ambrosius smiled as he wrapped his arms around his love, closing his eyes and resting his head against his chest.

"I'm pregnant," he whispered. He waited for a moment, then tilted his head up to see Thorn's eyelids flicker open. Thorn blinked and looked down at him.

"What?" He asked, unsure if he'd heard correctly. Ambrosius swallowed. He wasn't sure why he was afraid of Thorn's reaction. He trusted his husband to love him no matter what. The irrational fear brought on by childhood disappointments, perhaps.

"I'm pregnant," he said again, this time in a soft hesitant voice. Thorn stared at him for a full moment, struggling to grasp what his husband was saying before it sank in. And the biggest smile spread across those perfect lips.

"For real?" He asked. Ambrosius nodded, smiling nervously.

"Yup."

"Not an April Fool's prank?"

"Nope, bought the package myself, checked all six sticks."

"So we're pregnant, for real?"

"We're pregnant for real," Ambrosius said, laughing now as Thorn's expression became downright giddy. Thorn squeezed his lover tight, then loosened his hold so he could reach down and place his hand over Ambrosius's stomach, feeling the tight muscular skin there.

"This is amazing," Thorn breathed, stroking his thumb across the warm flesh, "Our kid's in there. Our kid. We made this." Ambrosius leaned in, giving Thorn a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Yes. Yes, we did."