Chapter 47 - Relax, Brian!

"Ugh! Justin, why didn't you stop me before I ate that third serving of pasta?" Brian complained as he hefted his tired body onto the couch, his hand pushing down onto the top of his bulging stomach to counteract the pain. "I've got heartburn so bad it feels like somebody poured drain cleaner down my throat. And, if Junior kicks me in the ribs one more time, I swear I'll go lie on my belly just to squish him back."

"Oh, poor baby," Justin teased and sat in his usual spot where he could rub Brian's swollen, achy feet while they relaxed. "I did try to warn you when Debbie was hovering behind you with the pasta bowl, but you and Em were too busy giggling like schoolgirls to hear me. And, no wonder Junior is kicking you after you two spent all evening poking at him so that Emmett could feel the baby kick over and over again."

Brian looked a little guilty but smiled nonetheless. Justin grinned back. He figured Brian had probably enjoyed showing off even more than Emmett had enjoyed feeling the baby moving. Leave it to Brian to make having a rare and unusual male pregnancy look like something really cool and desirable. Before you knew it, every gay boy in the Northern Hemisphere was going to be wanting one.

"Em was pretty funny, wasn't he," Justin continued. "You'd think HE was the one having the baby, he was so excited. You know we're going to have to let him be the official 'Fairy Godmother' . . . Or would it be 'Godfather' - that makes it sound like he's some mafia boss. 'Godperson' just sounds weird though. . . "

"Honeycutt can be 'Auntie Em' just like with Gus," Brian rationalized. "I'm not having the baby christened or any shit like that so he doesn't need a fairy god-anything. He'll have plenty of 'Fairy Uncles' instead."

"That's true," Justin chuckled again at the images of all their friends going gaga over Brian earlier at dinner. Except for two notable exceptions. "Are you okay with how everything went tonight, Brian?"

"Yeah," Brian shrugged uncommittedly and then shifted his weight on the pillows behind him. "It probably went as well as could be expected. Mikey really was an ass though. The way he pouted all through dinner . . . And Lindz pissed me off big time. But, what did I think would happen?"

"Mel handled the news remarkably well, though. Especially considering you've just disproved her ultra-feminist theory that no man could ever handle being pregnant."

"I still haven't completely proved her wrong," Brian snickered at the chance to best Mel in anything. "I've still got a few weeks to go and I'm sure she's hoping I'll flub it up in the end somehow. *errgh* My fucking back . . . What do I have to promise to get you to give me one of your killer back massages, Sunshine?"

"Not much." Justin said agreeably, already getting up to move around behind Brian. "Just your endless gratitude and undying love."

"Well, if that's ALL . . . " Brian scooted forward to make room for his helpful household blond, "then get started massaging already!"

Brian bent forward slightly, a pillow stuffed between his belly and his lap to support his upper body. Justin sat behind him, his legs splayed out around Brian's body, as he rubbed firmly at Brian's tense shoulders. Justin could tell how exhausted his lover was from the tightness of his muscles. Brian might have been downplaying his disappointment at the reactions of his best friends, but his body betrayed exactly how much the evening had taken out of him.

"Mmmmm. That feels good," Brian purred as Justin tackled a particularly tough knot of muscles. "Lower and over to the right . . Oh, yeah. That's it."

The twosome sat together quietly and companionably for quite awhile, Brian giving occasional directions where Justin should focus his massage. As Justin began to work his way lower, however, all the sudden, he felt Brian's entire body go rigid. Brian sucked in a quick painful gasp of air and then moaned.

"Uhhhh. *pant, pant* Uh, owwww. Justin . . . " was all he managed to say.

"Brian? What's wrong?" Justin shouted, one hand automatically reaching around Brian's midsection protectively.

What Justin felt under his hand almost scared him to death. All the muscles in Brian's abdomen were tight and he could feel them rippling tighter and then easing slightly, then tighter again. Brian was obviously hurting and was holding his breath trying to quench the pain. It took Justin only a second or two to realize that Brian was having a contraction. But, as soon as he figured it out, Justin knew what to do.

"Breathe, Brian. Just relax and breathe," Justin ordered as he quickly moved around so he was directly in Brian's line of vision. "You're okay, Brian. You're fine. You just need to look at me - look in my eyes - that's good. Now just breathe out. Yeah. Good. Now deep breath in. Good. Breathe out. In again. . . "

Justin sat, breathing in sympathy with his partner, one hand still against Brian's belly, until he felt the muscles relax.

"Fuck! What the hell was that," Brian rasped out as he collapsed forward into Justin's strong arms. "Is the baby coming? Isn't it too soon?"

"Relax Brian. I don't know what it means yet. It's still a little early, so that might have just been a Braxton-Hicks contraction."

"A Brax-What? What the fuck is that. If I'm having contractions shouldn't we go to the hospital or something?" Brian was on the edge of panic, which, fortunately helped calm Justin.

"Braxton-Hicks contractions are 'false labor', Brian. I've read about them. You just need to relax and keep breathing for now. If its not true labor, the contractions will stop when you relax and maybe shift your position a little. I'll go get you some water - that can sometimes help if the contraction was brought on by dehydration. Just lie back and keep breathing for me for ten seconds while I run to the kitchen, Brian. I won't be gone long." Justin ordered as if he dealt with medical crises like this every single day.

Justin's authoritative tone did more than anything else to help calm Brian. He relaxed back onto the couch cushions, his body stretched out along the length, and almost immediately felt better. There was still a faint trace of heartburn, and his head was still pounding, but the tight, constricted feeling in his gut eased considerably and he could once again breathe freely.

"Here's some water, Brian. Let me help you get a small sip. Don't drink too much at once, though. Just lots of little sips," Justin helped raise up Brian's head slightly as the expectant papa sipped at the bottle of water. "That's good. How do you feel now? Better, same or worse?"

"Better. Thanks."

Justin knelt down beside the couch, one hand resting on Brian's stomach and the other brushing lightly through the slightly sweaty auburn locks. He could tell Brian was finally relaxing. When his breathing seemed back to normal, Justin leaned over and placed a tiny kiss on Brian's temple, further comforting the worried man.

"I think it was just a practice contraction, Brian," Justin theorized. "Just, sort of, a warm up for later. I think you're going to be fine. You just need to relax and get some sleep. Tonight's dinner was just too much excitement."

"If that was just the warm up, Sunshine, I'll never make it through the real thing," Brian moaned, tensing up again slightly with worry.

"Of course you'll make it, just fine," Justin reassured. "You're tougher than that, aren't you? Besides, you don't want to prove Mel right, do you - that men couldn't handle having babies? We'll show her who's stronger."

"Bad example, Sunshine," Brian joked back. "I'm pretty sure Melanie could take me any day. . ."

"Okay, you may be right about Mel. . . But you could take, say, my Mom or Debbie, right?" Brian shrugged and nodded, still unsure. "Well, they've both survived giving birth, so you can, too. Right? . . . Right?"

"Since you're so sure this is all going to be a piece of cake, Sunshine, why don't we trade. You can have the baby. I'll just go back to being my old, happy-go-lucky, thin self, okay?"

"No fucking way!" Justin pretended outrage. "No way would I agree to trade. I couldn't do this shit. Are you crazy?"

The ensuing laughter eased away all the rest of Brian's tension and soon after the two men headed up to bed. They were still arguing about who should take over for the rest of the pregnancy.

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Justin made Brian work from home again on Monday and Tuesday. Despite all his assurances to Brian, he was a little worried about how difficult the pregnancy was getting. He'd gone back and reread all the information he had on Braxton-Hicks contractions after Brian finally fell asleep Sunday night. From everything he'd read, they were common, but weren't supposed to be painful. That could be a bad sign. But, it might also just be that Brian really had overdone it at Debbie's that night and Justin's fears were groundless. All the same, Justin was grateful Brian agreed to stay where his partner could keep an eye on him for the next couple of days.

Justin stuck close to home all day Monday. Instead of going to the house to meet with the contractor, he asked his mom to bring the paint samples to the loft and he and Brian made that decision together. Thankfully, it sounded like the renovations were progressing even faster than expected. The contractor was painting in the main rooms tomorrow and could then start on the finish work. They still had a couple days work to put in on the bedrooms in the back though before those could be painted. If everything happened as planned, they'd be in their new home in three weeks or so. Which was cutting things ENTIRELY too close as far as Justin was concerned.

Brian got happily distracted ordering furniture online that afternoon. Justin was grateful for living in the computer age. Otherwise he would have had trouble reining in his zealous little amateur decorator. As it was, his only worry was that Brian would spend so much they'd end up in the poor house before they could move to the new house. But, since it kept Brian busy and off his swollen feet, Justin couldn't complain too much.

Brian did get progressively more tired as the day wore on, though. The annoying man refused to go take a nap in the afternoon even though Justin practically begged him. Sitting still at the computer for so long was also hard on his back. By dinnertime, Brian was visibly flagging.

Justin was trying something new to help alleviate Brian's chronic heartburn. Instead of eating just three large meals a day, Justin served him multiple smaller snacks throughout the day. From the research he'd done, Justin thought this would be easier on Brian's stomach, which was now cramped by the baby's growing bulk. Brian wasn't happy with the idea, though. He'd never been the snacking type. Brian equated snacks with weight gain and therefore resisted Justin's new schedule out of force of habit. It seemed like a constant battle between Justin, who was trying to keep feeding his baby-daddy, and Brian, who was bored with eating and didn't like the constant heartburn.

It was during another of these little battles, late in the day, that Brian experienced another series of Braxton-Hicks contractions. He wasn't quite as scared this time, since he'd gotten a little practice in the day before, but it wasn't exactly fun. Justin took control again and managed to get Brian to breathe and relax, which stopped the contractions.

Justin was starting to see the beginnings of a pattern, though. When Brian got tired and stressed out, all the negative symptoms would start up - backache, heartburn, more swelling in his ankles and, now, the contractions. Justin was definitely starting to worry. He made sure Brian was resting with his feet up on the couch and then went outside and called first his mother and then Daphne. It took a long time for them to talk Justin back to his normal calm self.

The stress levels of the two men weren't helped much by the fact that Tuesday was the date that the September issue of GQ would come out. Justin had stocked up on groceries and other supplies. He figured they could turn all the phones off and hide out at the loft all day if it got too bad. But, unfortunately, Justin's Freshman Orientation at PIFA was scheduled for early Wednesday morning, so he'd have to go out then whether he wanted to or not. And, he was pretty sure all the hoopla caused by Brian's splashy big announcement wouldn't die out in only one day. But, there was little he could do about it. Other than worry, that is.

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Both Daphne and Emmett came over early on Tuesday morning. Daphne brought danishes and decaf coffee for breakfast. Em had already seen the online version of the Armani ad and was gushing with praise at how spectacular Brian looked. Daphne helped to distract Justin from worrying by talking about school. Emmett and Brian recommenced poking his belly to make the baby kick, which likewise amused and distracted them.

About ten o'clock, the downstairs door buzzer sounded. Daphne took charge and answered on behalf of the boys. Everybody was temporarily relieved when the voice over the intercom announced that it was only a FedEx delivery for The Ryder Agency, attention: BK, c/o their address. Brian told Daphne to buzz the guy up. He'd been expecting the delivery - it was his complimentary copies of the GQ issue.

Brian was as excited as everyone else to see the final version of the magazine and the four of them were standing together at the open loft door waiting for the delivery guy as they heard the elevator gears working.

But, it wasn't a friendly FedEx guy who emerged from the elevator when it stopped on the top floor. As soon as the gate flew up, the four friends were immediately blinded by a camera flashing repeatedly in their faces. Two large bodies erupted behind the camouflaging camera flashes. One of them was yelling questions at them at a very high volume without really bothering to wait for any answers.

Brian blinked his eyes trying to rid himself of the blinding white spots from the camera flash. Slowly, his vision returned. When he could finally see again, he found that he was being confronted by an accusatory David Cameron. Next to Dr. Dave was an obese man with a long greasy ponytail who was wearing an awfully loud hawaiian shirt that didn’t completely cover his own middle and was holding the offending, still flashing camera. Coming up the stairs behind the offensive pair was the erstwhile FedEx guy, who was sporting an apologetic look and carrying a large cardboard box

“So, Brian,” David snarled in the surprised faces of the four friends. “What do you have to say for yourself now?”

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