21. Jag Disappears

21

JAG DISAPPEARS

Niall was having a nightmare again.

It was one of his usuals: Steel manacles trapped him on an exam table while Dr. Gruyere stepped closer, his lab coat stained, his hand wrapped around a squirting syringe.

Niall tried to struggle out of his manacles, but the doctor strode ever closer, his eyes cold, maniacal.

“My favorite subject,” Gruyere said with a cruel smile. He was always the worst with his scalpels.

Niall began screaming, louder and louder until he woke himself with it.

He shoved his back against the wall, scanning his room wildly for threats.

There was no one here. Just a dark, empty room, with his soft pillow and lush sheets, and a nice queen-sized bed.

He was safe. He wasn’t going back there.

As Niall breathed, he realized that his bed smelled different. The musk was overwhelming like it always was right after his heat, and the woodsy scent...

Mahogany.

Jag.

Jag had been in his bed. He’d pounded Niall into his mattress and made him come so many times, and...

Where had he gone?

His heart sinking, Niall looked around the room, at the lack of light edging his door. Did Jag not want to stay with him, after all?

He crept to his window and peered out, expecting to see Jag’s windows all dark. Maybe Jag had driven off and left the whole town behind.

But no.

A couple of windows were lit up next door. At—Niall glanced at his digital clock—3AM?

What could Jag possibly be doing at this time?

Niall hesitated by the window, wondering what he should do. Text Jag? Call him? Go back to bed and pretend that Jag hadn’t abandoned him?

“I shouldn’t be clingy,” Niall told himself.

He lay back down, wide awake now. Wondering if he’d done something wrong in his sleep, like he’d kicked Jag or farted on him, and Jag had decided he didn’t want to deal with this.

In the end, his gnawing worry got the better of him. He used speech-to-text on his phone.

Niall

Jag?

There was no reply for a while. Then his phone buzzed.

Jag

Sweetheart? Why are you awake?

Niall’s chest squeezed. At least Jag still liked him enough to call him sweetheart.

Niall

Did I do something wrong?

His heart thumped. Jag’s next message came a lot faster.

Jag

Give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back.

Niall stared at the text without replying, his hands aching. His phone went dark with the lack of activity. Faintly, Niall heard his front door open and shut.

Jag came back.

His bedroom door squeaked open, and then it closed. In the faint moonlight slanting through his window, a broad, dark figure prowled toward him.

“Sweetheart. Hey.” Jag crouched next to his bed, running his fingers through Niall’s hair. He pressed a soft kiss to Niall’s lips—Niall’s chest unclenched. “I’m all sweaty right now. Sorry for disappearing on you.”

“Why’d you go?”

Jag huffed. In the darkness, Niall saw his alpha’s mouth pull into a lopsided smile. “Had a date with my punching bag.”

Niall blinked rapidly. “That’s not what I expected.”

Jag frowned. “Did you think I abandoned you?”

Niall dropped his gaze. “Maybe.”

“Gods. No. Sweetheart.” Jag gathered Niall into his arms. Now that more of their bodies were touching, Niall felt the dampness of Jag’s bare skin. He really was wet all over, like he’d either been working out a lot, or he’d just stepped out of the shower. Judging by the salt in his scent... he’d been throwing a lot of punches.

“Did you drop everything to come back?” Niall blurted guiltily.

Jag shrugged and kissed his forehead. “I was close to done, anyway. What woke you up?”

“Nightmare.” Niall grimaced.

Jag cursed. “Fuck. I promised I would wake you up from them.”

“It’s okay. It happens all the time.”

Jag growled. “I gave you my word, sweetheart. And I broke it.” He hugged Niall more tightly, pressing kisses all over his face. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” More quietly, “Because you’re back.”

“I’ll always come back,” Jag murmured. “You can call me if I’m not around, alright? If you need me with you immediately. It doesn’t matter what time it is, or if I’m busy. Just call. I’ll answer.”

“Okay.” Niall nuzzled him, filling his lungs with Jag’s scent. He let Jag hold him for another long moment. “Are you going to shower?”

“That bad, huh?”

Niall shook his head, and paused. “Well, you’re wet.”

Jag huffed. “We were both sweating earlier.”

“But now I’m not! It’ll feel weird if we cuddle.” Niall wet his lips. “If you want to cuddle with me.”

“I do. Alright. I’ll grab a quick shower and be right back.”

He kissed Niall again, then disappeared from the bedroom.

Niall wriggled back under the covers. He felt so much better—with Jag’s sweat on his skin, Jag’s promises fresh on his lips.

Jag didn’t take long; just a few minutes. He came back wearing just a bath towel, dropping it and slipping into bed behind Niall, pulling Niall flush against his damp, naked skin.

Niall made a sound of contentment. “That was really fast.”

“Yeah?” Jag kissed his neck. “How do you wash yourself?”

“I have a big... silicone scrubbing mat thing that I stick to the wall. I rub myself against it.” Niall shrugged. “It’s not the best, but it gets me clean. Clean enough, anyway.”

“I’ll give you a proper shower the next time you feel up to it,” Jag whispered in his ear. “Let me scrub every inch of you. Clean you where the mat can’t reach.”

Niall moaned. “You can’t tell me that in the middle of the night.”

Jag chuckled. He stroked up and down Niall’s body, kissing his shoulder. Then he slid his hand down to Niall’s belly and left it there. Niall’s pulse quickened. “I didn’t realize you’d gone into heat.”

“I wasn’t expecting it this soon,” Niall admitted. “But sometimes it’s weird. You might’ve triggered it.”

Jag hummed. “I’m sure it helped that I had my cock inside you for that long. Would you like to sleep, or are you ready to talk about tonight’s consequences, sweetheart?”

Niall sucked in a slow breath. “Are you?”

Jag rubbed small circles over his belly. “I would like to keep the child, if you conceive one.”

But that wasn’t really comforting. “I... Same here. But I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad.”

“Because of your hands, or your past?”

“Both.”

Jag kept rubbing Niall’s belly. “You want the baby. I think that’s the most important thing. You care. And because you do, you’ll try to figure out what works better, if something goes wrong. Besides, you won’t be alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

That was such a relief. “But my hands...”

“We’ll find gadgets to help.” Jag covered Niall’s hands gently with his own. “You’re not the only person in the world who can’t use his hands. There are people—parents—with rheumatoid arthritis who have trouble gripping things. Your hands might not have the same capabilities as theirs, but I think we can adapt with the gadgets meant for them.”

That... made sense. Some of Niall’s things, like his cutlery, were used by people who had RA.

“How did you think of that?” Niall asked.

“I did a few internet searches while I was next door.” Jag kissed his ear. “What if you practiced with our nieces and nephews first? That way, you’ll know in advance that you’re ready.”

“This still makes me nervous,” Niall admitted. “What if all I learn is that I’m a terrible dad?”

“You won’t be,” Jag said firmly, tapping him lightly on the ass.

“Okay.” Niall breathed in and out, adjusting to all these new thoughts in his head. They lay companionably in bed for several minutes, Jag rubbing Niall’s hip, then his arm, touching him over and over.

“Are you sure about us?” Niall blurted. “Having a baby with me is... a long-term commitment. And we’ve only known each other for a few days.”

“I’m sure. I’m not leaving you behind with a baby, sweetheart.”

That was good. It meant that Niall would always get to see Jag, even if Jag grew tired of him and didn’t want him as a mate anymore—if they even got to that point.

“Besides, I’ve been wanting an omega for years.” Jag kissed his shoulder.

Niall remembered Jag talking about his prison years. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You won’t.”

Before Niall could ask how that was possible, Jag covered Niall’s chest with his hand. “We’ve stayed up long enough. I don’t know about you, but my body likes to wake itself up at the crack of dawn.”

“That’s in a couple of hours,” Niall squawked.

“Yes. Sleep.”

“I’m still wide awake.”

Jag huffed. He kissed the crook of Niall’s neck, where his scent gland was. Everything tingled. “Need some help sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Niall mumbled.

Jag raked his teeth over that sensitive spot, sending bliss through Niall’s body. He slipped his hand down Niall’s belly and lightly grasped his cock; it stirred despite everything else they’d done hours ago. “Think this will help?”

“ Oh. Maybe,” Niall moaned.

Jag slowly coaxed him to hardness. Then he slipped his own cock into Niall, and rocked against his prostate until Niall squirmed and panted, and came.

“You make the sweetest damn sounds,” Jag growled in his ear.

“Mmmph,” Niall said muzzily, turning halfway toward Jag. “What ‘bout you?”

“I’m fine.” Jag pulled Niall flush against his front. He wrapped his arm around Niall’s waist, and left his cock buried inside. “Okay if you fall asleep with me inside you?”

Niall nodded. “‘S good. Sleep.”

“I will.”

Vaguely, Niall got the strangest feeling that Jag wasn’t sleepy at all, even though he acted like he wanted to sleep.

Was Jag going back to his punching bag? Was he planning something else?

Before Niall could think too much about it, he’d fallen asleep.