The second I arrived home, I shut off my phone, turned the music up loud, and threw myself on the bed.

I knew exactly when this happened.

It was a few weeks before Liberty Ride. I wasn’t back to my glorious self and Justin was frisky. After trying to get a rise out of me, quite literally, for hours, he’d settled on the bed saying we should turn in. That was when I decided to indulge him.

When I’d rolled on my stomach and told him to have fun, he jumped on my back, peppering kisses everywhere.

Of course, the twat wasn’t satisfied with only that one time. He went back for more—twice more that night—and another time over the back of the couch the next morning. That was when I put a stop to it. I wanted to be able to walk and sit.

I also remembered how during Round Two or Round Three in bed, he’d gasped, saying he felt something was wrong. I’d urged him to continue, because it felt too good to stop. Only when he’d pulled out we realized what had been wrong. The fucking condom broke.

I knew Justin was clean, and I had already been recently checked, so we were safe.

Or so I thought.

Fuck.

I scrubbed at my face, trying to rid myself of flashes of my future.

All I could see were babies, a royal mess, ribbons and pigtails, toy trucks and Legos everywhere.

Then I could see myself turning into a fat pig, and I wanted to cry.

I was inclined to call Sunshine and demand him to get his ass back, so I could kick it for doing this to me.

Some time later, I managed to stop myself in time before I lit a cigarette. That was when I decided to get rid of all the temptations.

Grabbing a trash bag, I threw in it my smokes, my booze, the weed, and put it at the door, outside the loft. I’d take it out another time.

When I itched for Jim, I poured myself some guava juice and sat on the sofa, watching some of my favorite movies.

oOo

The next morning, I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a train.

After a shower, I got lost in working on one of my new accounts, which was insanely accurate to my situation: pregnancy tests. I resisted the urge to take one to the bathroom and test it myself. For about three minutes.

When the right amount of time passed, I carefully picked the test and glowered at the smiley face.

Fuck you very much.

I threw that account away, deciding to find another one. I’d taken five with me.

One of them had to help me take my mind off this insanity.

The next one I picked was for Trojan condoms. It was one of these fuckers that got me in this situation.

I was never letting Justin buy condoms. He knew very well Durex was my brand.

Another account thrown away.

The next I chose was for baby safe toys.

The fuck is going on? Is the world conspiring against me?

Have I taken only such creepy accounts?

I checked the other two—mouth wash (it made me think of its need after barfing during the morning sickness) and a car dealership.

I chose the car dealership, because it was the safest of them all. Until I read the words ‘baby safe’ and wanted to throw myself out the window.

Eventually, I gave up working on anything, and simply slouched on the sofa with guava juice at hand to battle the nausea.

From my position, I could see my stomach where the tee had ridden up. I’d caught a glimpse of it yesterday at the hospital, but thought it was my imagination.

I had no idea if it was normal for a three months along carrying person to show, but there was definitely a small bump.

Fuck no.

I tried sucking in my stomach.

It was too soon.

My body.

I wanted to cry at the mere thought of losing my figure I’ve worked so hard on, for years.

The noise of the metal door slamming shut jerked me from my dozing off.

I craned my neck to see who decided to disturb me, and sat up too fast, getting woozy. I caught myself on the back of the couch, staring in disbelief at Justin. The duffel bag was at his feet and he was watching me concerned.

“Hey.” He plastered a smile on his face.

Cynthia. I knew she had something to do with his sudden appearance. “Hi, yourself. What’s up?” I took my empty glass to the kitchen for a refill.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” He teased, stopping me when I passed him. He pulled me closer, nuzzling my neck, before kissing my lips softly.

“Mhmm. You can surprise me like this more often.”

I went on my way to the fridge and Justin followed, sitting up on the counter, his feet dangling off the edge.

“Spring cleaning?” Justin nudged my thigh with his knee.

“No?” I frowned, pouring more guava juice in my glass.

“Then what’s with the booze and drugs in that bag outside the door? Don’t tell me you plan on donating them to charity.”

I laughed, chugging down the juice. “Nope. I’m reevaluating my priorities.”

“Good for you, Brian. I’m sorry you had to go through this to realize how valuable life is.”

“Go through what?”

If Cynthia told him, I was going to throttle her.

“You know…” Justin shifted uncomfortably. “We don’t talk about this…you being sick.”

Oh, the Big C. “Yeah, well. It was a good wake-up call.” I kissed his cheek. “How long are you staying?”

“Rage fell through. I was coming home anyway. I mean, I wanted to find something else to work on, but then I realized you weren’t there. And I’ve missed you too much.”

“Rage fell through? I hate to agree with Ben, but he was right.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll keep it in mind to listen to the older and wiser in the future.”

I stepped between his legs, hugging him and inhaling his scent.

God, how I’ve missed him.

I even forgot about being mad at him for doing this to me.

“What’s wrong?” Justin whispered fearfully, pulling away and searching my eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you say that?”

“I’ve been home for five minutes and you haven’t tried fucking me. Something’s wrong.”

“Home,” I repeated on a wistful tone.

“Yes, home. Christ, Brian. Are you okay? Please, tell me. I can take it.”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “Did Cynthia talk to you?”

He turned red, but shook his head.

“Ah, you can’t lie to me, Sunshine. See, that adorable blush of yours gives you away every time.” I stroked his cheek softly.

“Fuck Mom.”

“I’m more into her son, if you get what I mean,” I teased, kissing along his jaw. I sneaked my hands under his shirt, but he battled them away.

“I’m serious. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m my fabulous self.” I shrugged.

“I thought we were past this stage—you hiding from me.” He poked me in the stomach.

It was like some self-defense rose inside me, and I slapped his hand, glaring, before wrapping both my arms around my stomach.

Justin stared at me in shock, mindlessly rubbing his sore arm.

Shit. I hurt him.

But he almost hurt Peanut.

I stumbled back into the kitchen isle, catching myself on the edge. Did I just refer to the thing inside me as Peanut? Fuck. I was going crazy.

We kept eye-contact for a long time. Justin seemed freaked out by my reaction, but I was freaking out by my own reaction, too.

I was the first to break the connection, as I went to the sofa, falling onto it. My arms still tightly wrapped around my stomach.

“Brian.” Justin joined me, rubbing my bicep. “Shit. Did I hurt you? Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t,” I explained. I felt faint. How could I tell him? What if he thought I was a freak and left? Fuck, since when do I have such thoughts? “Justin…I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?” His eyes were full of concern as they bore into mine.

“But I need to barf first.” I made it to the toilet in time. I should have known it was too good to be true. I’d hoped I skipped this glorious moment for the day.

“Shit, Brian. Are you sick again?”

After cleansing my mouth, I took him to the bed and sat down. “Try to keep an open mind. I still haven’t wrapped my head around this yet.”

“You’re sick.” Tears spilled from his eyes as he hugged me tightly. “Fuck.”

“I’m not sick. Sunshine, calm down.” I rubbed his back soothingly. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way round? Him consoling me? “Remember a few months ago when you topped?”

He nodded slowly.

“Okay, so it turns out…”

“I gave you something.” He put his face in his hands, sobbing.

“If you want to put it that way…” I tried not to laugh. Dr. Hump’s joke made more sense now that I was telling Justin what he gave me.

“What is it? Please, let it not be…”

“Something alive?”

He nodded, then his head shot up, his mouth hanging open. “Something, what?”

“Alive.”

“I don’t get it.”

“The doctor said such cases are rare, but not unheard of. You see, Justin…when the condom broke…”

He promptly fainted into my arms.

Holy shit.

I shook him, but only a slap over his cheek pulled him back to reality.

He stared at me dazed.

“Is it…real? Pinch me.”

I rolled my eyes, but complied. I twisted his nipple through his shirt, making him squirm away, moaning.

His eyes moved from mine to my stomach, then he reached a tentative hand to lift my tee. “A baby?” He breathed out as more tears slid down his cheeks.

“Apparently so. I’m a gifted freak fag. I’ve been born with both reproductive organs. Imagine that.”

“And it took me topping you and the condom to break for this miracle to happen?”

“Miracle.” I scoffed. “This is an intruder. Can you imagine how I’ll look in a few months? Please, kill me now.”

I fell back on the bed, tugging the pillow over my face.

I jerked in surprise when I felt his lips to my stomach. “He’s just joking. You’re not an intruder.”

“I’ll have you committed if you ever do that again,” I declared.

“But he needs to know we love him.”

“I doubt he or she or whatever it is…can hear you.”

“How far along are you?” He propped on an elbow by my side, grinning.

“Don’t start your 1500 on my SAT showing off.”

Justin giggled, hugging me tightly and nuzzling my neck. “I love you, Brian.”

We lay there in silence until Justin decided to bring us back to reality.

“Have you told anyone? And you didn’t answer me.”

“About three months, and can we not tell people?”

“This is a hard secret to keep.”

“Not if we’re careful. We can move away and return many months later with a baby, say we adopted it.”

“No, no. We’re not hiding. As for moving away, I’m pro that. The loft is big enough for one person, as you said not that long ago. I might fit in here good too, but another addition? Nope. We need to talk to Mom about finding a place.”

“I can’t say I missed this side of you.”

After a few more minutes in silence, Justin sat up as if burned. “Did the doctor say if the baby was okay? You were sick. And well, I clearly remember you smoking pot and drinking…”

“He said I was fine…we are fine,” I said quietly, testing the plural, because that was the reality. I wasn’t one anymore; we were two.