19. Is This Really A Surprise?

19

IS THIS REALLY A SURPRISE?

Wren was still staring at his hands when Fang burst into the guestroom.

"Birdie? What's wrong?" Fang growled.

"I'm..." His hands still looked strange. "Why am I fuzzy?"

Fang froze. He raked his gaze over Wren's face, then down his body to his hands. Carefully, Fang approached and knelt by the bed, taking Wren's hands in his own. "How much of you is covered in fur?"

Wren clumsily tugged his shirt off; Fang helped.

His chest was lightly fuzzed now, short hairs going all the way past the waistband of his pants. In fact, his body was fuzzy the same way Fang's was. But in Fang's case, it was probably because Fang was a wolf. One of Joey's new friends, Liem, was the same way. The other big boss at Fang's workplace, Valor, was fuzzy too.

"I'm not a wolf," Wren blurted.

Fang's gaze intensified. He wet his lips and tangled their fingers together. "Do you really want an answer? Or are we still not talking about things?"

Wren stopped breathing. If this had to do with his heat, with the condom breaking inside his body... "I'm—"

"You're pregnant," Fang growled, leaning in to press his nose against Wren's cheek. He sniffed along Wren's jaw and down his neck. Then he took a deep breath, and exhaled shakily. "You smell sweeter now."

"O-oh."

A rumbling growl built in Fang's throat. He skimmed his knuckles down Wren's chest, and covered Wren's belly with his hand. "Our pup is in there."

Wren's stomach flipped. "Oh, gods."

Before he met Fang, he'd never really anticipated having children. He'd been a virgin, and the first requirement to having his own babies was... not being a virgin anymore.

Then Steffie happened.

And now Fang.

Wren stared at his still-flat belly, trying to imagine a baby in there. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. "It doesn't feel any different."

Fang's gaze darkened. "You will soon enough. Wolf pregnancies last three months. I'm not sure how long a mage pregnancy lasts."

"Um, seven." Wren bit his lip. "So... assuming it's an average, it'd be... five months?"

Fang rumbled, sitting next to Wren on the bed, his chest pressed against Wren's shoulder. "You're keeping the child?"

Wren's heart thumped. Did he want to? He wasn't prepared for a second baby. But he'd gotten good with Steffie, kind of, and... Fang seemed to really like caring for her.

Wren gulped. "You want me to keep it, don't you?"

Fang's eyes flashed. "I don't want to pressure you. But... I would prefer that you carry the baby to term. Whether you want to be its dad after... That's your choice. I want the baby either way."

Steffie would love to have a sibling to play with, wouldn't she? Someone she could be friends with as she got older. And the thought of raising Fang's baby, loving a baby from a man who'd kept him safe... It wasn't difficult at all.

"I'm keeping the baby," Wren said softly.

Fang sucked in a slow breath. Then he cupped Wren's cheeks and tipped his face up, pressing a hot, fervent kiss to his lips. "Thank you."

Wren let Fang draw him into the kiss, every stroke of their tongues dizzyingly blissful. Fang pressed him down against the bed and kissed him for a long time, before he finally pulled away, their chests heaving.

"Mine," Fang growled.

Wren's heart thumped. "M-me?"

"Yes." Fang brushed his fingers through Wren's hair. He stroked Wren's neck, his shoulders, dragging his palms down Wren's arms and chest.

"This... isn't like how you've touched me before," Wren blurted.

"I'm marking you with my scent," Fang rumbled. "For protection. So people will know not to touch you."

Wren blushed. He liked that. He liked it a lot. "We don't know each other so well."

"I'm going to get to know you," Fang whispered, leaning close. He sat up and dragged his hands down Wren's legs, then lay down behind Wren, and pulled Wren against his chest. "Mine."

"What if you find something about me you don't like?" Wren blurted.

Fang snorted. "We've been living in each other's pockets for four straight days, Birdie. Have you seen anything about me that you find repulsive?"

Wren shook his head.

"The same goes for you. I've liked everything I've seen so far."

That sounded so impossible. Wren was anxious a lot, he had no money, and barely any experience. And Fang was a big boss at the Center—not that he'd seen Fang at work yet. Why would Fang want someone like him?

Wren's gaze dropped to his belly. That... might be a reason.

"Oh," he said.

"You'll come to work with me tomorrow," Fang said.

Wren squirmed. "What am I going do there?"

"You'll be safer in my office. You're not comfortable with the barrier as it is, are you? Even when you manage to complete the spell?"

Wren shook his head. "It's going to need a lot more time."

"Right, that settles it. I'd rather not leave you at home." Fang peeked over Wren's shoulder at Steffie, who had stirred when Wren yelped. She'd gone back to sleep. "Sleep. I'll wake you up tomorrow."

Wren wanted to stay up for a while longer, to bask in the way Fang's arms felt so strong around him. Fang's fingers drifted lower and lower, settling on Wren's belly.

If Wren had been less exhausted, he would've blushed. But right now, all he could do was sink back into slumber, Fang wrapped protectively around him.

Wren woke the next morning to an empty crib.

He panicked for a moment—until a strong arm wrapped around his waist. "Birdie," Fang murmured in his ear. "I'm having Hector show her around the house. They're not stepping outside at all."

"Oh." Wren breathed out his relief. "But—what if someone sees her through the windows?"

"Hector has closed all the curtains. They're safe."

That took a moment to sink in. Steffie was safe. No one would attack them, because no one knew Steffie was here.

It was still difficult to push aside his worries, until he grew aware of two things.

One: All his clothes were missing from the waist down.

Two: Fang was breathing hard behind him, in a way that made Wren's insides grow hot. He knew those sounds. He'd grown very familiar with the way Fang's breath hitched, except Fang wasn't touching Wren in all the ways that mattered.

When Fang released him and leaned away, Wren squirmed around in confusion.

Fang was lying on his back, his neck flushed, his sleep pants pushed down. His fist was tightly wrapped around his cock, precum glistening on his fingers. And he was slowly stroking himself, his wet skin making soft, lewd sounds.

"You didn't wait for me," Wren said, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I wanted to do something different today." Fang's eyes were like slits. He glanced sideways at Wren, and Wren realized that Fang was holding his missing underwear. He was holding it in front of his tip, like he was planning to come all over it.

A moan slipped out of Wren; he shoved his hand down, wrapping it around his suddenly-hard cock.

"Like what you see, Birdie?" Fang growled. "I've been thinking about you. Holding you down, rubbing my cock between your smooth, firm cheeks. Fucking against your hole until you squirm and moan and beg."

"Won't you put it inside me?" Wren's voice quavered.

"Soon." Fang's pupils dilated further; he began rolling his hips, fucking hard into his fist in a way that made Wren shudder.

"I want you inside." Wren's voice broke.

Fang groaned. "Yeah. Especially now that I don't need a condom with you. I can just leave my entire load inside, coat your inner walls with all of it. Push it so deep inside you, until you're completely filled with my cum. More than one load."

Wren was wet for him now, squirming as he stared enviously at Fang's fist. He reached over to close his own hand around Fang's tip. Fang swore and began thrusting hard, his precum-slick cock sliding against Wren's fingers, promising bliss.

"I need," Wren gasped. He squeezed Fang harder, in the hopes that Fang would change his mind about coming inside.

Fang bared his teeth. They were sharp now, dangerous. Wren only grew wetter.

"You like this," Fang growled, his words slurring slightly around his elongated teeth. "I smell your slick. So much of it. You want me fucking you like an animal."

Wren moaned. "Please."

Fang thrust savagely into Wren's fist; his own hands shook as he turned Wren's briefs inside-out.

Then he gripped himself and gave three hard thrusts, cum jetting out of him onto the crotch of Wren's underwear.

Fang didn't stop coming. There was a lot of cum. So much of it. It began dripping off Wren's underwear, and Fang set it aside.

The next thing Wren knew, Fang had grabbed him by the hips, rolling him face-down onto the bed.

"You wanted my cum," Fang panted, pushing his hot, slippery length between Wren's cheeks. Cum landed hot on his back. And Fang slid his tip down, pushing it against Wren's wet hole.

Wren didn't have time to moan. One moment Fang was shooting cum all over his entrance. The next moment, he was stretching Wren wide open, his cock sinking deep inside.

Wren shoved his hands over his mouth, coming hard.

But Fang didn't stop there. He gave Wren several long, deep thrusts, holding him down, fucking hard against Wren's prostate. Wren jerked and clutched at the sheets, only to howl when Fang pushed his growing knot into his hole.

"Is this how you wanted it?" Fang whispered in his ear, shoving his knot against Wren's most sensitive spot. Wren wheezed, on the verge of coming again. "I'm still coming, Birdie. Giving you the rest of it. Locking it inside with my knot."

Wren would've said something, except Fang fucked him into the mattress, short, firm strokes that ground so perfectly against that one spot. He gave a full body shudder, precum squirting out of him.

Wren lost track of what Fang did to him—all he knew was Fang biting lightly on his shoulders, sucking hickies into his skin, Fang reaching around to take Wren's cock into his hand, fucking Wren into his fist.

"I d-don't think I can c-come again," Wren said weakly, trembling all over.

Fang pushed his knot against Wren's prostate; Wren's breath punched out of him. "Oh, I think you have several more in you."

"W-won't you b-be late for work?"

"I'll be late for work smelling like you. Like I made you come so hard, you can't walk straight. And they'll smell the evidence of it. You bred full with my cum."

"Oh, gods." Wren moaned when Fang began working his prostate over, that tormented gland surrendering as Wren clawed at the sheets and came again, his body clenching around Fang's knot.

Fang hissed and ground his cock deeper, so Wren keened. "I'm claiming you inside. Putting a permanent marking in your sweet body. Making you mine. All mine."

Wren came again. And again. Fang's knot stretched him and tormented him, and all he knew was an ocean of bliss.

It felt like perfection, and it felt like belonging.

By the time Fang's knot went down and he withdrew, Wren was a sweaty, drooling mess, his entire body limp.

Fang sat back, pushing Wren's legs open. He cupped Wren's cheeks and spread them, and over his shoulder, Wren saw Fang taking a picture of his fucked-open hole.

A thrill razed up his spine. He reached back and presented himself, moaning when Fang reached under him and closed his hand around his cock and sac, angling them down so they'd also appear in his pictures.

"That's it. So fucking perfect for me, Birdie," Fang growled, bringing his phone closer. "I can see everything from here. My cum flowing out to cover your sensitive parts. Marking them as mine. "

Wren tingled all over, growing warm.

Fang came closer, covering Wren with his body—although he braced his weight on his elbows without crushing Wren. And he brought his phone forward to show Wren the pictures.

Wren gaped at how debauched his hole appeared, how puffy and stretched open it was. All because Fang's cock had been pounding him inside.

"You're so beautiful," Fang murmured in his ear. Then he flipped the phone's camera around and took a picture of their faces pressed together, their hair mussed, cheeks flushed.

"I—I look so..." Young, he wanted to say. Or maybe even unworthy of someone like Fang.

"You're perfect. You belong by my side."

Fang pressed kisses all the way down Wren's spine. He flipped Wren onto his back and kissed down his chest, slowing down when he reached Wren's belly. There, Fang dropped several slow, deliberate kisses, looking Wren in the eye.

Wren's chest was too small to contain everything he felt.

"I'll be responsible for everything you need," Fang murmured. "Any medical bills, clothes, food, shelter. You name it, it's yours."

"Okay," Wren whispered.

"You will also not do any strenuous activity. Don't step outside without someone accompanying you."

Wren frowned. "Like a prisoner?"

"Like you're being guarded around the clock," Fang said dryly. "With all the trouble we've had lately, I'm not risking you."

Something warm swelled in Wren's chest. He dipped his head, and Fang's smile turned fond.

"Now, time to get up," Fang rumbled. "Everyone at the Center will know you're mine."

"Really?" Wren flushed. "I'm going to take a shower. Will they still smell... all of this?"

"I'll wipe you down with a washcloth. No shower today." Fang's gaze darkened. He helped Wren out of bed and handed him the cum-covered briefs. "Put these on."

Wren's face burned as hot as the sun. "How many people will know?"

"Some. Enough." Fang's grin was all sharp teeth. "I want them to smell my cum on you."

"Oh, gods."

Wren pulled on the briefs anyway, gulping when Fang's cum pressed between his legs, sticking to his cock and balls, his perineum, and his cheeks. Fang crowded close and slid his fingers between Wren's cheeks, pushing the soaked fabric against his hole.

"Mine," Fang growled.

"I—I haven't agreed to be yours yet," Wren mumbled.

Fang watched him with dark eyes, his fingers still nudged against Wren's entrance.

Wearing Fang's markings all over him, inside him—it felt as though Wren had finally found someone who wanted him around. It felt too good to be true.

He didn't have time to dwell on that, though. Fang pulled away, and Wren felt the sharpest sense of loss.

Like he'd promised, Fang wiped Wren down with a washcloth. When they were done in the bathroom, they dressed for going out—Fang's suit made Wren's breath catch—and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Hector lifted Steffie's hand and tried to teach her how to wave. "You'll want to look into soundproofing, Boss Master."

Fang grimaced. "Not right now."

"I could hear every squeak of the bedsprings, every rustle of the sheets." Hector waggled his eyebrows. "Twenty out of ten, would listen again. It sounded like an orchestra of tormented bed parts screaming about the end of the world. I thought you'd send your bed crashing through the floor."

Wren stared. He hadn't thought they'd been all that loud, but... Fang had been pretty ruthless, pounding into him. He squashed down that sense memory and made himself remember—shapeshifters had an even sharper sense of hearing than wolves. "Hector heard everything?!"

"Everything," Hector replied, grinning widely.

Fang sighed. "It's something you'll have to get used to. I'm sorry I didn't mention it before."

Wren yanked up the neckline of his T-shirt to hide his face. "It's fine. I—I should've thought of it myself. It was the same thing in Blade's mansion; Hong heard Quinlan and me while we were climbing the gate."

Fang snorted. "I'm surprised you did that. You have to know those mansions have security."

"I'd never been in a mansion before!" Wren had felt the magic protecting Blade's property, and it didn't keep them out. "But... I-I agree that having security is good."

Hector whooped.

Fang wrapped his arm more tightly around Wren, dropping a kiss on top of his head. "I'm still sorry for hiring this terrible excuse of a butler."

"Hey!" Hector shot Fang a look. "You'll regret that."

"Whatever revenge you take, make sure you don't catch Wren in the crossfire," Fang muttered. But his expression only held fond annoyance, and none of the stress that the kidnappers had given him.

Wren really was happy for Fang. Except the words chose that moment to fall out of his mouth. "Um. Can I have pickles on eggs? And... some meat? Bloody meat."

Immediately after, he frowned. Why had he asked for such a strange combination? He didn't even like undercooked meat.

Both Fang and Hector turned to stare at him. Before anyone could reply, Steffie smacked Hector's face with her little hands. Hector cackled and sat her in her high chair. "Oooh, a craving. "

Fang broke into a wide smile. "I will prepare your food right now, Birdie."

"You should, considering what you did to him," Hector said.

Fang put on a bright pink apron with huge daisies printed all over it. Wren stared.

"Hector bought that for me as a housewarming gift." Fang rolled his eyes.

"And yet you're still wearing it!" Hector beamed.

"I'm not going to throw away something perfectly usable," Fang muttered. He pulled out ground meat, eggs, and butter from the fridge, along with jarred pickles and a bag of hash browns. "I would've made you waffles from scratch, but we're running late."

Wren shook his head. "This is good, too. It's... It's been a while since someone made something special for me."

Fang's mouth curled in a slow grin. He emptied the tray of meat into a pan and seasoned it with herbs and pepper, using a spatula to break it up into smaller chunks. In another pan, he began frying up the hash browns. And in a third pan, he started on the eggs.

"How are you keeping track of everything at once?" Wren blurted. "I burn food if I have two pans on the stove at the same time."

Fang's smile grew. "My nose helps. Guess I'm cooking for you for the foreseeable future."

"You want to?"

"Yes," Fang growled. "I will provide for you. And Steffie, and our baby."

Wren thought his heart might beat out of his chest. He didn't have anything to offer Fang. But the way Fang kept looking over at him, the way Fang smiled secretly to himself, Wren thought, maybe... "I used to watch my sister cook," he blurted. "She was really good. She could cook three things at the same time, and she made me chop vegetables because it was easier for me to focus on only one thing. But it became awkward when she got a boyfriend, even though I was happy that she was happy."

Fang's smile turned soft. Somehow, between managing everything on the stove, he'd still found time to slice up some pickles. "I wish I had siblings. My parents only had me."

"You have lots of friends now, though."

Fang nodded slowly. "I'm still learning to fit in with them. It's... an adjustment."

It was so unbelievable that someone like Fang, who managed so many people at the Center, still had to work at friendships. But it made him human, and it made him real. Wren padded over to the stove, standing next to him. "I would hold your hand, but Marie didn't like me nearby when she was cooking. She said I got in the way."

"I wouldn't want to crash into you," Fang agreed. But he leaned in, and dropped a quick kiss on Wren's head.

When the food was done, Fang piled the meat, eggs, and pickles on a plate for Wren. Wren mixed it all up and shoved a spoonful of it into his mouth.

Fang watched him intently. "Does it taste good?"

"Yeah!" Wren held out his spoon with a bit of everything on it, and Fang closed his mouth warily around his offering.

Fang made a face as he chewed. "That's... Well, I swallowed it."

Wren laughed softly. "It's like a burger without the bread and veggies."

"Burgers shouldn't have eggs in them." Fang snorted.

"They do! In the fancy restaurants!"

"Just because they put eggs on burgers, doesn't mean they should. " Fang sat down and grabbed Wren's foot, tickling him lightly.

Wren shrieked. Fang released him before he could accidentally knock his plate off the table.

Hector raised his phone and took a picture of them, grinning madly. "Aww! You make such a cute couple."

Fang grinned with all his teeth. Wren had the sudden thought that maybe... he could have all of this. Safety. A full belly every day. A lover who enjoyed spending time with him.

It almost seemed too good to be true.

Metal rattled and rubber screeched. Wren's shopping cart raced into the kitchen, heading straight for Steffie's high chair.

Wren forgot to breathe.