mpreg jackrry, part 9
Nov. 5th, 2017 11:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ferryboatpeakJack’s in an afternoon sales meeting, his phone sitting silent beside him on the conference table, when Harry’s number comes up. It’s the first time Harry’s ever called him. Jack only hesitates for a moment before self-consciously ducking into the hallway, pointing to his phone apologetically.
Harry’s voice is soft and strained as he tells Jack that something happened at work today. A kid had a behavior incident and Harry was trying to deescalate him and got kicked in the stomach, and he hasn’t felt any movement since then. Jack’s chest tightens. Harry’s just called the doctor’s office and they can see him if he gets in before the end of the day, so he’s headed that way. “I just… thought you should know,” Harry says.
(Jack’s pretty sure that’s not the reason. If this was an FYI Harry could have texted. There’s some way that Harry’s wanting Jack to react here, and Jack is probably going to screw it up, so he just goes with what he wants.) “I’ll meet you there,” he says. “How long ‘til you get there?” Harry says he’s about to walk to the bus stop, hold on, he’ll check when the next bus comes… “I’ll pick you up,” Jack says immediately. “Where are you at?” Harry gives him directions to his school, and Jack grabs his keys and his bag. He’s halfway down the elevator before he thinks to tap out a quick email to his manager, sorry for leaving the meeting, family emergency (he guesses this qualifies?), he’ll be out the rest of the day.
Harry’s school turns out to be much closer to Jack’s office than Harry’s apartment is. Harry’s waiting outside in the November chill, trying in vain to zip his shearling-collared jacket over his belly. When he gets in the passenger side, Jack doesn’t know whether to hug him.
After a silent wait at the doctor’s office, they’re led back to see a different doctor than usual. She finds the baby’s heartbeat right away. Jack exhales. Harry cries. Jack is starting to realize that Harry cries a lot. He’s not sure whether that’s, like, a pregnancy hormone thing or just a Harry thing. Either way it always feels like it’s Jack’s fault.
Harry asks whether the doctor’s sure the baby’s okay, like, could he have a broken bone or something, why isn’t he moving? The doctor reassures him, you’ve got a thick layer of muscle between the baby and outside forces, it’s going to be fine, you’re not going to feel the baby all the time, how long’s it been since you’ve eaten? Drink some orange juice, the baby may be more active when your blood sugar’s up, we can do a quick ultrasound if that’ll give you some reassurance (“yes please,” Harry says.)
On the way to Harry’s place, Jack turns into a grocery store parking lot. “What are you doing?” Harry asks. “Getting you some orange juice,” Jack says. “And I don’t know, a frozen pizza or whatever. You need to eat.” Harry wrinkles his nose. “Let’s just order pizza.” Jack makes him wait while he gets orange juice, then insists that Harry drink it in the car.
Jack’s relieved to see that Zayn’s not at the apartment. Harry tosses his jacket over the back of a chair and sinks heavily into the couch. Suddenly, he smiles. “There you are,” he says, addressing his belly and poking at a particular spot. He tips his head back against the couch and exhales a sigh of relief.
“Moving?” Jack watches the spot where Harry’s hand is resting.
“Yeah, just kicked me.” Harry picks his head up and looks at Jack. “Want to feel it?”
“Okay.” Jack sits next to Harry, hand awkwardly hovering. “Where?”
Harry points to right spot. Jack settles his hand there. Warmth bleeds up through the thin layer of Harry’s t-shirt. He’d sort of expected Harry’s belly to feel hard -- like, protective -- but it’s soft, some give there as Jack’s hand rises and falls with Harry’s breathing.
Nothing happens. After a long and awkward silence, Jack asks, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, it’s fine,” Harry says. “Nobody ever touches me anymore.”
Jack apologizes, feeling as guilty as he’s ever felt about basically ruining Harry’s life, and Harry keeps talking, saying something about how he used to always be all over his friends, “but now it feels like they’re weirded out by all of this” -- he gestures at his belly -- “and it’s not like anybody wants to hook up with me either, so.”
“Hey,” Jack says, because Harry looks pretty close to crying and Jack’s had enough of that for the day, “hey, c’mere.” He wraps his arm around Harry, keeping his other hand in place on Harry’s belly. Harry scoots closer to him, knees pressing up against Jack’s lap. He sniffles into Jack’s shoulder and takes a few jerky breaths. Jack waits for the imminent threat of tears to pass, and then cautiously turns his head a fraction of an inch and presses his lips to the top of Harry’s head. Somehow he’s managed to screw this up yet again, trying to keep a respectful distance while Harry’s been over here miserable because nobody’s touching him.
Harry’s lifting his head and -- “Hey!” Jack jerks his hand back in surprise from a soft poke of movement. “You felt that one?” Harry asks. “Yeah,” Jack says, and settles his hand back down where the baby kicked him. It doesn’t feel awkward anymore. “Will he do it again?” “Yeah,” Harry says, smiling, and kisses Jack.
[ok i was gonna write more self-indulgent kissing but i’ve gotta get some sleep; just pretend there are some eloquent paragraphs here of everybody relaxing into a gentle pregnancy make-out sesh, Harry relieved and Jack incredulous and the baby occasionally nudging at Jack’s hand. Maybe at some point Harry asks if this is OK, and Jack says something like, "Listen, I've wanted to do this since -- how many weeks is it?" "Acorn squash," Harry says." "OK, like an acorn squash amount of time." LOOK I NEVER WANTED TO WRITE THIS TROPE IN THE FIRST PLACE OK]
Harry’s voice is soft and strained as he tells Jack that something happened at work today. A kid had a behavior incident and Harry was trying to deescalate him and got kicked in the stomach, and he hasn’t felt any movement since then. Jack’s chest tightens. Harry’s just called the doctor’s office and they can see him if he gets in before the end of the day, so he’s headed that way. “I just… thought you should know,” Harry says.
(Jack’s pretty sure that’s not the reason. If this was an FYI Harry could have texted. There’s some way that Harry’s wanting Jack to react here, and Jack is probably going to screw it up, so he just goes with what he wants.) “I’ll meet you there,” he says. “How long ‘til you get there?” Harry says he’s about to walk to the bus stop, hold on, he’ll check when the next bus comes… “I’ll pick you up,” Jack says immediately. “Where are you at?” Harry gives him directions to his school, and Jack grabs his keys and his bag. He’s halfway down the elevator before he thinks to tap out a quick email to his manager, sorry for leaving the meeting, family emergency (he guesses this qualifies?), he’ll be out the rest of the day.
Harry’s school turns out to be much closer to Jack’s office than Harry’s apartment is. Harry’s waiting outside in the November chill, trying in vain to zip his shearling-collared jacket over his belly. When he gets in the passenger side, Jack doesn’t know whether to hug him.
After a silent wait at the doctor’s office, they’re led back to see a different doctor than usual. She finds the baby’s heartbeat right away. Jack exhales. Harry cries. Jack is starting to realize that Harry cries a lot. He’s not sure whether that’s, like, a pregnancy hormone thing or just a Harry thing. Either way it always feels like it’s Jack’s fault.
Harry asks whether the doctor’s sure the baby’s okay, like, could he have a broken bone or something, why isn’t he moving? The doctor reassures him, you’ve got a thick layer of muscle between the baby and outside forces, it’s going to be fine, you’re not going to feel the baby all the time, how long’s it been since you’ve eaten? Drink some orange juice, the baby may be more active when your blood sugar’s up, we can do a quick ultrasound if that’ll give you some reassurance (“yes please,” Harry says.)
On the way to Harry’s place, Jack turns into a grocery store parking lot. “What are you doing?” Harry asks. “Getting you some orange juice,” Jack says. “And I don’t know, a frozen pizza or whatever. You need to eat.” Harry wrinkles his nose. “Let’s just order pizza.” Jack makes him wait while he gets orange juice, then insists that Harry drink it in the car.
Jack’s relieved to see that Zayn’s not at the apartment. Harry tosses his jacket over the back of a chair and sinks heavily into the couch. Suddenly, he smiles. “There you are,” he says, addressing his belly and poking at a particular spot. He tips his head back against the couch and exhales a sigh of relief.
“Moving?” Jack watches the spot where Harry’s hand is resting.
“Yeah, just kicked me.” Harry picks his head up and looks at Jack. “Want to feel it?”
“Okay.” Jack sits next to Harry, hand awkwardly hovering. “Where?”
Harry points to right spot. Jack settles his hand there. Warmth bleeds up through the thin layer of Harry’s t-shirt. He’d sort of expected Harry’s belly to feel hard -- like, protective -- but it’s soft, some give there as Jack’s hand rises and falls with Harry’s breathing.
Nothing happens. After a long and awkward silence, Jack asks, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, it’s fine,” Harry says. “Nobody ever touches me anymore.”
Jack apologizes, feeling as guilty as he’s ever felt about basically ruining Harry’s life, and Harry keeps talking, saying something about how he used to always be all over his friends, “but now it feels like they’re weirded out by all of this” -- he gestures at his belly -- “and it’s not like anybody wants to hook up with me either, so.”
“Hey,” Jack says, because Harry looks pretty close to crying and Jack’s had enough of that for the day, “hey, c’mere.” He wraps his arm around Harry, keeping his other hand in place on Harry’s belly. Harry scoots closer to him, knees pressing up against Jack’s lap. He sniffles into Jack’s shoulder and takes a few jerky breaths. Jack waits for the imminent threat of tears to pass, and then cautiously turns his head a fraction of an inch and presses his lips to the top of Harry’s head. Somehow he’s managed to screw this up yet again, trying to keep a respectful distance while Harry’s been over here miserable because nobody’s touching him.
Harry’s lifting his head and -- “Hey!” Jack jerks his hand back in surprise from a soft poke of movement. “You felt that one?” Harry asks. “Yeah,” Jack says, and settles his hand back down where the baby kicked him. It doesn’t feel awkward anymore. “Will he do it again?” “Yeah,” Harry says, smiling, and kisses Jack.
[ok i was gonna write more self-indulgent kissing but i’ve gotta get some sleep; just pretend there are some eloquent paragraphs here of everybody relaxing into a gentle pregnancy make-out sesh, Harry relieved and Jack incredulous and the baby occasionally nudging at Jack’s hand. Maybe at some point Harry asks if this is OK, and Jack says something like, "Listen, I've wanted to do this since -- how many weeks is it?" "Acorn squash," Harry says." "OK, like an acorn squash amount of time." LOOK I NEVER WANTED TO WRITE THIS TROPE IN THE FIRST PLACE OK]
no subject
Date: 2017-11-06 10:10 am (UTC)I love how Jack is so uncertain is so many ways, but he's trying to do better at every step. It's so sweet. Also, I love the detail of the baby kicking at his hand while they are kissing and I LOVE their fruit calendar.
no subject
Date: 2017-11-07 01:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-11-07 01:55 am (UTC)can’t we have BOTH?
no subject
Date: 2017-11-07 03:51 am (UTC)also i think my heart broke at "nobody touches me anymore" you'd better lawyer up cos i'm going to sue. but okay maybe you're forgiven because jack cuddled him and KISSED HIS FOREHEAD. i'm such a sucker for a forehead kiss.
no subject
Date: 2017-11-07 06:51 am (UTC)