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Jonny woke up slowly, to the smell of cinnamon and pumpkin, and smiled to himself. The darkness outside told him that it was early and a quick glance at the clock that read 5:45 confirmed it.

Thanksgiving morning, the first one in their new house. His house with Patrick, the one they’d scrimped and saved for, the place that was finally theirs, not the room in his parents’ basement or the small flat above a garage, or a noisy two bedroom next to the El. 

They had all been homes; this was their house. It made him sigh with pleasure, and then leap out of bed, energized despite the early hour. He showered quickly and joined Patrick in the kitchen less than ten minutes later.

He found Patrick glaring at a cookie tray with a spatula in his hand.

“Good morning, babe,” Jonny said, biting back a grin.

 “Shut up,” Patrick whined. “It’s not a good morning. It’s a terrible morning.”

 Jonny raised his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”

 “You thought something, loudly,” Patrick said. “Thanksgiving is ruined.”

“Already? That’s gotta be a new record.” Jonny replied, unable to completely bite back a smile.

“Jonny,” Patrick frowned deeply, “It’s not funny. I’ve ruined Thanksgiving.” He grabbed the tray of flat, dark brown blobs, methodically scraping each one into the compost bin. There was something a little more tense in his frame than the usual pre-holiday anxiety.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Jonny asked when Patrick was done. There was a tiny frown between Patrick’s eyebrows, and Jonny grabbed him by the waist, pulling him close enough to kiss it. Patrick sighed loudly and slumped into him, shrugging a little. “Come on, I can see a beautiful pumpkin pie on the counter, I know it hasn’t been that bad a morning.” He carefully doesn’t remark that it’s only 6:10.

“I just,” Patrick sniffled a little and shrugged again, burrowing deeper into Jonny’s arms. “I really wanted today to be perfect.”

“Baby,” Jonny said, treading lightly. He could never be too sure on days when they’re entertaining what’s gonna set Patrick off. “It will be perfect, you know it will.”

“No, I don’t and no, it won’t,” Patrick said despondently, sniffling a little, “because it’s already ruined.”

“One tray of burnt, er -- “ He scratched his neck uncertainly.

“Tarts,” Patrick groaned.

“Tarts!” Jonny exclaimed. “I was about to say that.”

“No, you weren’t,” Patrick said, poking Jonny in the ribs. “You thought they were rolls.”

“Yeah,” Jonny laughed, busted. “I did, I’m sorry.”

“Ugh,” Patrick said, but Jonny could hear the smile in his voice, and he kissed his temple and pulled back to look at him properly.

“Better?” Jonny asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “Get me some more coffee, I’ve been up since 3:30.”

“Yes, chef,” Jonny bowed a little, making Patrick laugh. He looked around for Patrick’s mug, locating it next to the sink. It was his Arch Enemies one, extra large so it could fit “I Hate You So Much” on one side, and “I Hope You Collapse” on the other. It was also good for holding a lot of caffeine, which Jonny was pretty sure wasn’t the smartest thing since the pot was almost empty.

“I’ll just make a fresh pot,” Jonny said. Patrick ignored him, scrubbing vigorously at the tray and muttering to himself. Definitely decaf, Jonny decided.

The container of decaf was already out, probably never replaced from their last pot the night before, and he pulled it closer, blocking Patrick’s view with his body. He’d make a small pot of decaf and maybe he could lure Patrick back to bed for a nap once they had the turkey in the roaster.

“Stop!” Patrick shouted just as Jonny was turning the pot on. He froze, looking at Patrick who was staring wide-eyed and looking guilty at Jonny. “Is that -- I mean.” He bit his lip. “I don’t need any more coffee, you should just make it for yourself.”

“Pat,” Jonny said, putting the pot down. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! I’m just -- I had a whole pot already, and I don’t need, I mean, I want to get a nap later, and I’ll never be able to sleep if I drink all that caffeine.”

“Okay,” Jonny said slowly, searching his eyes when he nodded, only to have Patrick turn back to the sink.

They spent the next two hours moving around the kitchen efficiently, managing to avoid any further crises. By the end, Jonny was dragging, yawning constantly and his head aching a little.

“I think I need more caffeine,” Jonny complained. “I guess three cups isn’t enough anymore. This fucking job, man.”

“You love your job,” Patrick laughed. “Stop fronting. But, uh. Maybe one more cup wouldn’t hurt, right? It’s gonna be a long day. I’ve, uh. Had enough, though. I’ll just use the Keurig.” He looked slightly guilty, and Jonny frowned at him.

The mug Patrick handed him -- I used veranda as an expletive. It was porch choice of words -- with a grateful hum, swallowing a huge sip and then coughing loudly. “Jesus, Pat, this is strong!”

“Oh, uh, I just thought you could use a little extra kick so I used that stuff that Erica left here with the extra caffeine, you know, ‘Jet Fuel,’” Patrick said, biting his lip. “I can put a little more cream and sugar in.”

“And maybe a little more water,” Jonny said under his breath, smiling innocently when Patrick made a face at him.

The coffee helped, though, and his headache eased, but Jonny was obviously gonna have to start cutting back when it took something called Jet Fuel to finally wake him up. Once they had the turkey cooking -- with only a little shouting when Jonny’d dropped the thing on the floor transferring it from the sink to the roaster -- Patrick was visibly drooping, his eyes red and bleary.

“Bed.” Jonny gently led Patrick up the stairs against his half-hearted protests about taking a shower and needing to make the crumble topping for the sweet potato casserole. Jonny wisely refrained from reminding him that Donna was bringing the sweet potatoes and just pushed him gently into bed, curling up behind him. “You can shower later.”

“Fine,” Patrick yawned loudly, his jaw cracking. “The baby needs a nap, anyway.” He inhaled quickly. “I mean, your baby needs a nap anyway. Me, I mean. I’m your baby, babe. And I need a nap. Obviously.”

Jonny was frozen, but his heart was racing. “The baby? Did you say the baby needs a nap?”

“Fuck,” Patrick moaned, turning over and burying his head into the pillow. “Fuck!”

“Patrick, what baby,” Jonny demanded, pulling at Patrick’s shoulder until he turned over and faced him. “What. Baby.”

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you,” Patrick groaned. “I had it all planned! I was gonna say something about being thankful for our baby or something. Ugh.” He peeked up at Jonny through his lashes.

“Our baby?”

“Our baby,” Patrick said repeated, dimple ticking up. “We’re having a baby, Jon.” His smile grew when Jonny just gaped at him. “Surprise?”

“We… You.. I…” Jonny stuttered, stunned. “I -- I “

“You gonna have to throw a verb in there sometime,” Patrick said, amused. “But yes, we are, you did, and I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my God,” Jonny whispered. “Oh my God.”

“Still no verbs,” Patrick teased but he was starting to look a little unsure, and that finally managed to kick Jonny’s brain into gear.

“We’re having a baby?” Jonny asked, and Patrick nodded. “We’re really -- You’re pregnant? Oh my God, Patrick, I can’t -- this is -- Wow.” Jonny shook his head, delighted and amazed. “This is wonderful.”

“Yep,” Patrick said, dropping a hand to his stomach. “In about seven months or so, I think. Doctor says it’s hard to estimate until we do an ultrasound.”

“You went to the doctor? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just, I didn’t have any idea I was pregnant,” Patrick said. “And I did tell you, remember? I had my annual physical yesterday.”

“But. I don’t get it -- do they always do a pregnancy test at your annual? And, what about the pill? I thought those things were failsafe.” His froze. “Oh my God, did the pill hurt the baby? Is it safe to be on the pill and be pregnant? Jesus, Pat, what if -- “

Patrick covered Jonny’s mouth with his hands. “I forgot to take it one day, about six weeks ago as far as I can remember, and doubled up the next day, but. I guess I’m just that fertile,” Patrick said. “When I told the doctor I’d been feeling a little nauseous and tired, he decided to run a test. And no, the pill can’t hurt the baby. I asked. And googled. And maybe called Phillip. He got pregnant on the pill, too, but Molly turned out fine.”

“Mphh rmmph, Pmmtrck,” Jonny said against Patrick’s hands, making him giggle and release Jonny. “Is everything else okay?” Patrick nodded. “Really? You’re fine, the baby’s fine?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, and the baby’s fine. The doctor said the heartbeat sounded perfect.” Patrick bit his lip. “I’m sorry you weren’t there, but the doctor insisted he needed to check to make sure he -- or she; no, we can’t tell yet, before you ask -- is okay.”

“You heard our baby’s heartbeat?” Jonny said, his breath catching as the enormity of what Patrick was saying finally hit him. “Oh my God, you heard the baby’s heartbeat! Patrick, that’s so amazing. And I don’t care that I wasn’t there. I mean, I care, because I wasn’t there to be with you, but I’m not mad.”

“I’m so glad, I was really upset you weren’t there,” Patrick said, his face a little cloudy.

“I know, but that’s the last time you’re gonna be there alone,” Jonny vowed. “What did it sound like?”

“Fast. Terrifyingly fast,” Patrick said, grimacing. “And the doctor heard an echo or something for a minute but he said it was nothing unusual, just something to check at our ultrasound, which is next week by the way.”

“We get to see the baby?” Jonny couldn’t help grinning.

“Yep, we get to see the baby.” Patrick’s face split with his smile.

“Pat,” Jonny said helplessly, reality sinking in a little more. “We’re having a baby. You’re pregnant.”

“Yeah, we’ve been over this, Jon.” Patrick grinned, one hand on his stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Jonny stared at Patrick’s stomach for a long moment. “I -- “ He sat up, hovering over Patrick. “Can I -- can I touch it?”

“Uh, sure?” Patrick rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to ask, Jonny.”

“I know but my cousins always get mad when people just touch their bellies without asking,” Jonny said, reaching out slowly.

“I’m your husband, not some stranger on the El,” Patrick snorted, pulling his shirt up and shimmied his shorts down a little, exposing his stomach, which still looked flat and lightly muscled. “And this is your baby. Here.” He took Jonny’s hand and placed his palm lightly over his abdomen.

Jonny mapped the warm, soft skin tentatively, skin he was intimately familiar with, but suddenly felt new. His hand drifted lower, below Patrick’s naval, and spread his fingers wide, spanning from hip to hip. “He’s right under here?” His voice was hushed and reverent, and Patrick covered his hand with his own.

“Or she is, yeah,” Patrick said, equally quietly. “Jonny…”

“My baby -- I just,” Jonny swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I knew we could, that you could, but I didn’t know know, you know?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said, his eyes glistening, and Jonny felt his own getting moist. When Jonny sniffled loudly, Patrick laughed, a choked, wet sound. “Yeah, I know.”

Jonny scooted down the bed, kissing his way to Patrick’s naval, and then a little below, resting his ear against Patrick’s belly.

“You can’t hear anything, dumbass,” Patrick smirked, and Jonny shrugged, kissing the skin again.

“Don’t care,” Jonny said. “Bonjour mon enfant, je suis ton père.”

“Jonny, you can’t -- “ Patrick’s voice broke and when Jonny looked up, Patrick’s eyes were brimming with tears. “I’m leaking hormones and apparently being pregnant makes me an emotional wreck, you can’t just say things like that, Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Jonny kissed his belly again, then lay back down next to Patrick, pulling him in until he was tucked under Jonny’s chin. He traced an idle pattern on Patrick’s stomach, making Patrick shiver. “Did you even understand what I said?”

“Even with my shitty twelfth grade French I can translate that, and you’re killing me,” Patrick said, sniffing loudly and then wiping his face on Jonny’s shirt. “Asshole.”

“You’re so gross,” Jonny said fondly.

“Your mom didn’t think I was gross when I was -- “

“Nope,” Jonny said, cutting him off quickly. “Nope, nope, not even on a bet.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Patrick said sheepishly. “Heard it as soon as I said it.” They both snickered for a second.

“Also, can you do mom jokes when you’re about to be a mom?”

“Not gonna be a mom, I’m his daddy,” Patrick said firmly. “I know that’s not PC but I don’t care. I’m Daddy, you’re Papa.” He looked up at Jonny challengingly.

Jonny rubbed gentle circles in Patrick’s arm with his thumb. “I know, baby, I don’t care. You can be Daddy, but if you wanted to be mommy or maman or whatever, I don’t give a shit. Your body, your choice, right?”

“Damn straight,” Patrick said, relaxing back into Jonny’s arms. “What about Big Daddy Kane?”

“Not a chance,” Jonny laughed. They lay there, breathing quietly, until Patrick wriggled a little, pushing his cock against Jonny’s thigh. “You wanna?”

“Always,” Jonny said, kissing Patrick’s upturned mouth. “Except -- is it safe?”

“Fuck, yes, it’s safe,” Patrick breathed into Jonny’s mouth. “It’s the second thing I asked.”

Jonny looked over at the clock and did a quick calculation. It was a little after ten and he knew Donna was coming early to put her sweet potatoes in.

“It’ll have to be quick, though,” Patrick said reading Jonny’s mind as usual. “Mom’s gonna be here soon.”

“I can be quick,” Jonny said, sliding back down Patrick’s body, licking a path around one nipple before biting it gently. Patrick hissed and Jonny looked up. He blew over the wet peak, making Patrick shiver beneath him. “That feel good?”

“Mmm, yeah, God,” Patrick moaned when Jonny sucked his nipple, keeping his teeth locked around the very tip. “Not, not so hard, though, they’re really sensitive.”

“Should I stop?” Jonny froze.

“No, Jesus, don’t stop,” Patrick snapped, pushing at his head until Jonny’s lips were sealed around his nipple again. “Just not too hard.” Jonny sucked at him for another minute alternating long pulls with little nips, not pulling back until he’d turned the hard, tight nub bright red and swollen.

Patrick made little moans the whole time, every once in awhile keening when Jonny bit gently, his hips undulating. Jonny could feel Patrick’s erection grow and twitch, and he finally relented and kissed his way down to the waistband of Patrick’s shorts. He was always hot when he cooked, wearing basketball shorts that drove Jonny crazy because he always free-balled it when he did. Sure enough, when Jonny pulled them lower, Patrick’s cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach. The sight of it made Jonny moan, and he rubbed his own erection against the bed, a delicious pressure that did nothing to take the edge off.

“Wish I had time to fuck you,” Jonny moaned, licking at Patrick’s cock, then suckling on the head. He looked up. “Wanna be inside of you so bad, baby.”

“Me too,” Patrick panted. “Stop teasing me, Jonny, please?”

Jonny couldn’t deny Patrick when he begged, and he took him deep in his throat, sucking hard at first before pulling back to lick at the tip again. Patrick was a lot more sensitive there than Jonny, and he writhed a little under Jonny. “Don’t, ah, oh my God,” Patrick panted. “Please, please.” He pulled on Jonny’s hair, making Jonny moan and pump his own hips into the bed.

He took Patrick deep in his mouth again, a long slow descent that didn’t end until he was in the back of Jonny’s throat, swallowing around Patrick’s cock, fighting the urge to gag. “Jon, Jon, Jonny, please, please,” Patrick groaned, pressing up against the hands Jonny had on his hips to keep him in place. “Jonny, please.”

“Mmm hmm,” Jonny moaned, and Patrick keened, the vibrations around the sensitive meat of his cock making him spasm and come, shocking them both. Jonny held his breath and swallowed as Patrick’s cock pulsed into his throat, savoring the whimpers Patrick made. When he finally stilled, Jonny pulled back, licking at the tip of Patrick’s cock and cleaning it gently until Patrick pushed at his head, writhing again. “Too much, too much, stop,” Patrick begged again, and Jonny sucked once more at the head before kneeling up and grabbing his cock. He pushed his sweatpants down enough to hook them under his balls and spit into one hand, jacking himself quickly. Patrick was laid out in front of him, his shirt rucked up under his arms, one nipple red and puffy, and Jonny reached up to pinch it, making Patrick wriggle and his cock twitch again.

“Jonny, come on, want you to mess me up,” Patrick begged, and his words made Jonny moan. The sight of him, cock soft and glistening with Jonny’s spit, eyes wet and pleading and sated, was all it took to pull Jonny over the edge, and he fell forward onto one arm so he could breathe into Patrick’s mouth while he pulsed his orgasm out onto Patrick’s belly. “Give it to me, all of it, come on.”

Jonny moaned loud and low as he wrung the last drops of come out of his cock, and Patrick licked into his mouth, chasing the taste of himself until Jonny collapsed next to him, spent. He laid there, panting, before glancing over at Patrick, who was running his fingers through Jonny’s come, rubbing it into his stomach. The sight’s enough to make Jonny shiver, and Patrick grinned up at him, his tongue between his teeth. “Like that, huh?”

“I do,” Jonny admitted without any shame. He pushed Patrick’s fingers out of the way and trailed a hand through the sticky residue, bringing his finger back up to Patrick’s lips. Patrick licked at it and Jonny pushed the finger into his mouth. When Patrick pulled off with a pop, Jonny kissed him. They made out lazily for several minutes until they heard a car door slam.

“What time is it,” Patrick said, tensing and looking over Jonny’s shoulder at the clock. “Oh God, it’s ten thirty five! Fuck, that’s probably -- “

“Patrick?” Donna’s voice drifted upstairs, followed by the sound of the front door closing. “Jonny?”

“Fuck,” Jonny said, pulling up his sweats hastily, “why did we give your mother a key again? 

“Because she’s my mother, Jon,” Patrick said dryly, but he was already getting out of bed, pulling off his t-shirt and using to swipe away the rest of Jonny’s come off his stomach. “But I’m gonna take a shower while you deal with her.”

“Pat,” Jonny hissed. “I am not going downstairs to talk to your mother when I look like we just fucked.”

“Not the first time my mom’s seen us like this, won’t be the last. And it’s your turn to be mortified,” Patrick said, dropping his shorts on the floor and walking into the en suite. Jonny let himself be distracted for a second by the sway of Patrick’s perfect, round, ass. “I’ve done the walk of shame too many times.”

“Patrick!” Donna said again just as Patrick was closing the bathroom door. “Stop whatever you’re doing with your husband that I definitely don’t want to know about and get down here, I want to put the casserole in.”

“Yeah, Patty, climb off Jonny and get your ass down here!” Erica echoed, followed quickly by, “ouch, Mom, jeez, I’m just teasing!”

“Oh my God,” Jonny groaned, pulling a pillow over his face. “Tell your family I’m sick, or I moved back to Winnipeg. Or I died. Because there’s no way I’m facing them. Jesus.”

“Fine,” Patrick said, and Jonny moved the pillow to see him padding back into the bedroom with a scowl. He pulled on his shorts and headed for the door.

“Pat! Put on a shirt, you’re chest, it’s a fucking sex road map.” Jonny motioned at Patrick’s chest where his nipple was still puffy and a little distended. He also had a blooming hickey on his collarbone and a small bite mark just above the waistband of his shorts. “You’re still covered in semen, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Make up your mind -- do you want me to go deal with them or do you want me to clean up?” Patrick groused, but he ducked back into the bathroom, coming out with a wet washcloth that he used to clean himself off with more thoroughly before tossing it at Jonny’s head. He pulled on a t-shirt. “Go shower and if you’re lucky by the time you get out, my mom will be gone.”

“From your lips,” Jonny said, listening as Patrick clamored down the stairs, bickering with Erica before he even hit the bottom. He looked at the clock again, marveling that it had barely been five hours since he’d woken up, but his whole life felt tilted on it’s axis 

He was going to be a father. He and Patrick were truly going to be a family, after more than ten years of being together. A new house, a new job, a new life growing inside of Patrick.

Yeah, he definitely had a lot to be thankful for this year.