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John groaned as he settled himself onto the couch, trying to find a comfortable position. Apparently the baby had decided its new favorite thing was to beat on his belly, making the tightly stretched skin there ache. He thought the pain wouldn’t be a problem since he was used to pushing through injuries and the accumulated pains of growing older, but somehow this was harder to ignore.
He had only been sitting there for a minute before Harold appeared with a steaming mug of ginger tea, somehow always knowing exactly when he was needed. John might have blamed the Machine’s watchful eye if he didn’t know this little corner of the train station was free of such surveillance. He supposed it was just one of those alpha senses that they always talked about.
“Thank you,” John murmured as Harold pressed the mug into his hands. He breathed the steam in, feeling himself relax a little. It didn’t help with the pain, but it was nice.
“You’re welcome,” Harold replied with one of his little smiled.
He carefully settled next to John on the couch, placing one hand on John’s belly. John usually hated anyone touching him there — even Zoe, who he might call one of his closest friends if pressed, was rarely allowed to do so — but it always relaxed him to have Harold touching him there. It was probably because Harold was his alpha, the father of his growing child.
But Harold was — had always been, even before the surprise heat that tied them inextricably together months ago — the only person he trusted absolutely without reservations. That was big for John.
“May I?” Harold asked, pressing just a little with his hand. John nodded. “Lean back a little, then, please.”
John, as always, followed Harold’s instruction, shifting to sit back, his head coming to rest on the back of the couch as he stretched his legs out. It was easy to let his eyes slip closed as Harold started rubbing his belly, starting with small circles at his belly button that got larger as he moved out over the rest of the bump. John started to relax incrementally and he reached out to put his mug on the side table before he relaxed so much he dropped it. It had happened before.
The minutes passed, John lulled half to sleep by Harold’s talented touch. He was pretty sure putting him to sleep was part of Harold’s plan. He’d been sleeping less the past few weeks as the baby pressed on his bladder, causing him to have to run to the bathroom over and over during the night.
“You look beautiful like this.”
The words were quiet, quiet enough that John was sure Harold didn’t mean for him to hear. The alpha probably thought he was asleep, and he was out of it enough to think for half a second that he was imagining things. But Harold kept whispering things about how good he looked, how happy he was that they’d bonded during John’s last heat, how much he looked forward to meeting the child they’d created together.
John started to feel a stirring of arousal at Harold’s words and his breath hitched a little. Harold’s hand paused in its ministrations and John reluctantly slid his eyes open. Harold was looking at him a bit wide eyed, obviously not having thought John would hear any of that.
“You really like me like this?” John asked, voice as quiet as Harold’s and a little fuzzy from being so near to dozing off.
He honestly wasn’t used to hearing such things from anyone. Even Harold, who didn’t shy away from well earned praise, had never been quite so effusive. John wasn’t sure exactly how to handle it — and he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved it either, not with the life he led — but he trusted Harold to help him through his tangled feelings.
Harold nodded, not looking at all abashed. Instead, his face softened and he leaned in to press a soft, dry kiss to John’s lips. “How could I not? You’re amazing, whether you believe that or not,” he said. “And you’ll be an amazing father as well.”
John had to smile, just a little. Harold really did know him so well.