Hugh called Callum when he got to Vancouver. Who the fuck else was he going to call? He got Callum's voicemail, of course, because it was - Hugh looked at his watch - 6:15 in the morning. Hugh'd taken a late-night flight from Toronto, not wanting to attract any more attention than necessary. "Callum, wake up, you fucker, and call me. I think I'm pregnant."

---

Hugh ducked his head against the wind as he waited at the cab stand at the airport. He shifted uneasily, shutting his eyes for a second and shaking his head violently. This had been going on for months now. He'd been ignoring it, focusing on the music and nothing else, but man, he'd been exhausted for the whole tour. The band had been making fun of him for being a pussy, an old guy, going back to the hotel and crashing after pretty much every gig.

And damn it, he should have been losing weight, not gaining it, while he was on the road. It just kept getting weirder, and right after the tour, he just fucked off, told the band he was taking some time, and hid out for a while. But - he slid his hand inside his coat, uneasily rubbing his stomach. Things were getting weirder. It wasn't just weight, it was -

He jerked his hand away quickly. That was the weirdest thing out of all of the weird-ass things: when he could feel it moving in there. Like - Christ, he didn't even fucking know. What the hell was he going to do?

He stomped his feet on the sidewalk to distract himself from the bizarre shifting going on in his stomach, shoving his hands back into his pockets and peering down the street until a cab swung into view.

---

Callum still wasn't picking up when Hugh called from outside his apartment. Hugh leaned heavily on the buzzer at the same time as he hit redial on his phone. "Callum, you fucking fuck," he muttered to himself. "Get your fucking ass down here."

Finally, the foyer door buzzed open angrily, and Hugh yanked it open, and strode up the stairs to Callum's loft. Callum was leaning in his doorway, his hair sticking up in all directions, his eyes sleepy, scratching the back of his head and yawning. "What the fuck?" he asked mildly as Hugh came up the hall. He was only wearing an old, worn pair of sweatpants, riding low on his hips, and Hugh - despite how pissed off and freaked out he was - had to swallow and take a moment here, because god, Callum looked good. Hugh hadn't seen him for almost six months now, and watching him, leaning there in the doorway with his eyes all lidded and a half-smile on his face - he looked good. Hugh felt a shot of heat go through him.

"Coming in?" Callum asked, lifting his eyebrow and yawning again. He stepped back, and Hugh glared at him.

"Took you fucking long enough." He brushed past Callum there in the doorway. The apartment was dim, the shades drawn down over the big windows, the weak early morning light filtering in.

Callum shut the door and followed him in, sinking slowly to the couch. He scratched at his chest and peered up at Hugh. "Are you okay?"

Hugh, standing hunched in the middle of the room with his coat still on, hands shoved in his pockets, glared at him. "No, I'm not fucking okay." Christ.

"What's going on?" Callum reached forward to grab his cigarettes off the table. He shook one out, and offered the pack to Hugh.

Hugh shook his head. He hadn't had a smoke in ages. Even the smell of it made him queasy. Hell, even the thought of the smell of it made him queasy. "Can you not?" he snapped, gesturing at Callum's cigarette.

Callum stared at him, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, his hand already cupped around his lighter. "What?" he said, incredulous.

"Christ, can you just hang on for one fucking second?" Hugh shut his eyes tight, trying to stay calm. "Listen to me, okay?"

Callum took the cigarette out of his mouth carefully. "I'm listening. Freak."

"Shut up," Hugh said tiredly. "Just please shut the fuck up. Fuck." He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes. "I think I'm pregnant."

It sounded ten times more ridiculous once he'd actually said it, and Hugh felt his face flushing red before the words were even out. Callum, on the couch, yawned again. "Hugh," he said wearily, "It is too fucking early for your codependent bullshit."

"Fucking hell." Hugh blew out his breath in frustration. "It's not a fucking euphemism, Rennie." Because okay, they'd had that fight before, about Hugh being too clingy, and how they weren't a married couple with two point five kids, but this was different. "I -"

"Look." Callum got easily to his feet and gave the sweatpants a little tug up before walking around the coffee table to get to Hugh. "I know it's been a while, but you've been busy, I've been busy." He eased up closer to Hugh and slid his hands into Hugh's coat slowly, his face getting that hot, slutty look he did so well. "But you're here now, so how about we just -" He stopped abruptly when his hands grazed Hugh's stomach. He looked up at him, startled. "Hugh?" he said uncertainly. He pushed Hugh's bulky coat back a little, then looked sharply up at Hugh's face. "What the fucking -"

"Yeah," said Hugh miserably, shoving his coat back and off, letting it fall in a heap on the floor behind him. His stomach was round and jutting out from underneath his most comfortable threadbare sweater. He jerked his chin up, forcing himself to look Callum in the eye. "I'm knocked up. Want to make something of it?

Callum took a step back. "Um."

Hugh sighed. "It's not that bad."

Callum eyed his stomach. "Are you sure?"

"Are you calling me fat?" Hugh demanded.

"I -" Callum was rubbing the back of his head and he couldn't take his eyes off of Hugh's stomach. "How did -"

"You think I fucking know?" Hugh pushed angrily past Callum and sat down heavily on the couch. His feet hurt. His back hurt. He hated this.

Callum dragged his gaze up to Hugh's face. "Do you think it's…" He trailed off.

"What?" Hugh demanded.

"Mine?"

"Jesus Christ, Callum. That's what you're worried about?" Hugh made a violent gesture at his huge, round stomach. "Not the, you know, fucked up situation here?"

"Calm down, jeez." Callum drifted over to settle down on the couch next to Hugh. "I don't know how this works, I was just curious."

"Yeah, well, fuck off." Hugh scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. They rested on his belly when he did that, and oh holy fuck, what the fuck was happening to him? He looked over at Callum, who was way too fucking calm for this whole thing. He couldn't handle a goddamned interview without practically having a nervous attack, but hey, a guy having a baby? No problem!

Fucker.

Hugh blew out his breath irritably. "And yeah, probably."

Callum blinked at him. "Probably what?"

"It's probably yours, asshole." Hugh shifted uncomfortably. "There hasn’t been anyone else."

Callum stared at him thoughtfully. "I'm not sure that's how it works."

"You got any better ideas?" Hugh demanded.

"Well, no." Callum scratched at his stubble. "No one else, huh?"

"No," Hugh snapped. He was suddenly really fucking tired.

Callum was looking at him, his eyes soft and amused. Hugh felt his face get hot - again - realizing he'd just told Callum he hadn't had sex since they'd fucked over six months ago.

"Come on," Callum said, and yawned - again. "Let's go to bed. You'll feel better after some sleep." He stood up.

"You think?" But Hugh yawned right back - God, he was fucking shot. "Fine." He got up - or tried to, at least. But the couch was squishy and he pretty much managed to just lurch forward before falling right back. He groaned, leaning his head back. "Fuck. Fuck. Just leave me here."

"C'mere." Callum was grasping his hands firmly. "Let's go, I'll help you."

Hugh stared up at him. "I'm not a fucking mental patient."

"No, but you're kind of a bitch, aren't you? Get the fuck up, Dillon."

He made it sound almost tender, and Hugh blew out his breath and grabbed onto Callum's hands. Callum heaved him up off the couch, staggering backwards a little as Hugh finally made it to his feet. "Shut up," Hugh said, pointing at him.

Callum held up his hands. "I didn't say a word."

"Keep it that way."

Hugh managed to maneuver his way into bed, toeing off his boots (which he hadn't been able to tie in the first place), and shoving his jeans off. He felt like a twat, but he kept his sweater and boxers on. He wasn't ready for Callum to see him all…out there like this. The room was freezing, anyway. Callum shucked off his sweatpants and crawled into bed naked, tugging the warm, heavy duvet up over both of them. He kept his room pitch dark, the windows sealed over to block out any light at all, since his sleeping schedule was skewed at the best of times.

Hugh was exhausted, his eyes heavy, even though this was weird and strange and there was too fucking much to figure out, and all the questions Callum hadn't asked. Callum - trust fucking Callum to focus on the wrong things, get all weird and tender about Hugh being so sure the baby was his, instead of freaking out that Hugh had, you know, a baby inside him.

Too much to think about and he just - God. He yawned again, and tried to keep his eyes open, looking at Callum lying there facing him as, his eyes got used to the dark. "Hey," Callum said softly, and leaned in, pressing his lips against Hugh's. Soft, with just a little bit of tongue, and Hugh felt a jolt of lust that he really, really wished he had the energy to act on.

Callum shifted forward a little, but Hugh's belly got in the way. Callum pressed up against him like that was - weird. Again. Everything about this was so fucking weird. Callum kissed Hugh again, with his hand resting on Hugh's stomach, like it was normal. Hugh wanted to be able to shove Callum onto his back, hold him there and fuck him. He wanted Callum to move his hand lower, circle it around Hugh's cock and jerk him off right there. He wanted to do a million frantic dirty things to Callum, and he would do them all, too, only he just had to close his eyes for a minute first.

He woke up several hours later to Callum sprawled out easily beside him on his stomach, snoring lightly. Hugh missed being able to sleep on his stomach. He lay there for a second, blinking irritably up at the ceiling and trying to wake the rest of the way up. Finally - inevitably - he had to haul himself, shivering, out of bed to go take a piss. Fuck, it felt like that was all he did anymore. When he came back, Callum was awake, stretching, watching Hugh as he made his way across the room.

"Jesus, Rennie, I'm not an alien artifact or anything." Hugh climbed clumsily back into bed, yanking the covers up hard enough that he got Callum's half, too. Callum - lying there naked with his flat ass showing - didn't even seem to notice, or at least it didn't bother him much. He propped himself up a little bit on his elbows, still gazing curiously at Hugh.

"What?" Hugh snapped.

"How did it happen?" Callum's eyes were focused on his belly again, and Hugh sighed.

"You think I fucking know? What the fuck, do I look like a doctor to you?"

"Hmm." Callum rolled onto his side away from Hugh, snagging his cigarettes from the bedside table. "Well, how do you know it's a baby? Maybe you're just -"

"If you say fat again, I'm going to punch your motherfucking head off." This was the last fucking thing Hugh needed. "And if you light that goddamn cigarette, I'm going to puke all over your nice pussy bedspread."

"Sorry, sorry," Callum said calmly, putting the cigarettes back down and pushing up to sit, leaning against the headboard. He tugged at a corner of the blanket, and Hugh, after hanging onto it stubbornly for a minute, let him pull some of it over himself. It was warmer under there with Callum, was the only reason. "But, I mean, how do you know that-"

Hugh winced. Timing was fucking everything, and this was priceless. Hugh grabbed Callum's hand and dragged it over to press it against his stomach. The baby kicked again, hard, right on cue. Kid had rhythm. "There," Hugh said, slightly breathless. "That’s how I fucking know."

"Oh." Callum looked up at him, his eyes all dark. "Oh, wow."

"Yeah," said Hugh dryly. "Wow."

"Jesus." Callum slipped his hand up under Hugh's sweater, to press right against the curved skin of his stomach. Hugh started to push him away, but the baby kicked again, right under Callum's hand, and they both gasped. Hugh curled his hand around Callum's wrist, holding on as Callum's palm pressed warm against his skin. "Man, that's…bizarre."

"I know," Hugh admitted. "It freaked me out the first few times, too."

"Okay, so -" Callum looked down at Hugh's stomach, and then back up at Hugh. "You're having a baby."

"Master of the fucking obvious," Hugh said tiredly.

"Yeah, but -" Callum's eyebrows went up. "Where's it going to come out?"

Hugh blinked. "I -" Okay. So he hadn't thought that far ahead. Really. Because weren’t things weird enough thinking about it being in there without thinking about where it would - "Fuck. How the fuck is it going to get out?" He wasn't panicking. He wasn't. He was - it would all be - they could -

"Hugh." Callum had shifted up to kneel beside him, holding onto his shoulders. "Hugh. Calm down."

"I'm calm," Hugh snapped, shoving Callum out of the way and reaching awkwardly for his cigarettes. Fuck this, he needed a smoke. "I'm totally fucking calm."

"It'll be fine." Callum was using his soothing voice, the one that made Hugh really fucking want to smack him across the face. "They can do a - what do you call it, a C-section."

"C-section," Hugh said faintly, the cigarette falling out of his shaking hand. "Oh fuck."

"Never mind," Callum said hastily. He took Hugh's face in his hands and kissed him, soft at first, and then harder. He was kissing him the way he did when he wanted to distract Hugh, didn't want Hugh to be pissed off at him, or didn't want Hugh to know that he'd been missing him, or any of a million different things he didn't want Hugh to know. It was a good tactic - it worked, and Hugh was grateful for it now, sinking into the kiss and ignoring the panicky buzz in his brain, because oh, fuck, oh fuck, where was it gonna come out -

"Stop it," Callum said firmly, and kissed him again, pushing him back against the bed and easing up against him. He pressed one leg in between Hugh's, and he was still canted to the side to make room for Hugh's stomach, but his thigh was right where it could rock right up against Hugh's cock, and his tongue was slipping into Hugh's mouth again. And fuck it, Hugh just let himself sink into this, not thinking about anything, anything else.

Fuck, it had been way too fucking long since he'd gotten laid. He was so goddamned horny all the time lately, he'd been jerking off two, three times a day, awkwardly, and it barely took the edge off. It was nothing like having Callum's thigh snug up against his balls, nothing like Callum's cock pressed up hard against Hugh's hip. Nothing like the dirty, dirty promises Callum was whispering into Hugh's ear right now, about how hard he was going to fuck him, how much he'd been thinking about it, how bad he'd been wanting it.

Callum's smoke-raspy voice talking dirty to him turned Hugh on like nothing else, and God, he fucking needed this. His cock was rock-hard, and he said harshly, "Come on, do it, Callum."

Callum's breath was coming hot against Hugh's face and he traced his hand down over Hugh's belly - that felt both good, and strange, and it sent a shudder through Hugh's whole body - and under it, pushing Hugh's shorts down and wrapping his fingers around Hugh's cock.

"God." Hugh jerked his hips forward the best he could. His own right hand had been his dick's only companion for way too fucking long. "God, yeah, come on - "

Callum jerked him slowly, a little awkward with Hugh's stomach in the way."Fuck," he breathed, rocking his cock against Hugh's hip. "Jesus, it's been too long, it's been way too fucking long."

"Yeah." Hugh lifted his hips into it, because god, he wanted more of this. "Christ."

"I want to fuck you," Callum said, biting on his earlobe. "Can I fuck you?"

"Oh, fuck, yeah." That was exactly what he wanted, what he fucking needed.

"Can you turn over? Get on your knees?" Callum said it like it was natural, to have to ask. Hugh had bent over for him a million fucking times, so that wasn't an issue anymore, but Hugh's new…problem meant they had to work around things. And Callum was reaching calmly for the lube, giving Hugh time to get himself situated. Which was awkward as hell, he had about as much grace as an elephant like this, but fuck it, he didn't care, so long as he got fucking laid. He needed to get laid.

He kicked off his shorts, and hesitated a second before muttering, "Screw it," to himself and shrugging his sweater off. It wasn't that bad. The room was dark, at least.

And Callum didn't seem to mind. Callum just came back and draped himself lightly over Hugh's back, kissing the back of his neck as he pushed two slick fingers inside of Hugh. "Jesus Christ." Fuck, that was good, and Hugh let his head hang down between his arms as he rocked back against Callum's hand. Christ. His stomach was almost brushing against the bed.

"Yeah?" Callum breathed softly against his neck, curving his long fingers in just right, angling for -

"Oh Jesus fucking -" Hugh bit his lip hard, his cock throbbing as Callum's fingers brushed against that perfect fucking spot deep inside him, then did it again, and again, and man, Hugh's cock was fucking dripping at this point. "Callum, you asshole, you've got to just - "

"No fucking patience, Dillon." Callum sounded breathlessly amused as he pulled his fingers out slowly, teasing, but his cock was sliding slick between Hugh's cheeks quick enough. "Oh yeah." Callum's voice was rough, on edge. He was hanging on to Hugh's hips tight, running his cock between Hugh's cheeks and teasing the fuck out of him. Every time he brushed against Hugh's hole, Hugh moaned helplessly and his head sank lower. His belly was enormous from this angle, and Hugh shut his eyes and cursed under his breath.

"Hang on." Callum's voice seemed to come from far away. "Just - god, hang on." And he grasped Hugh's hips more tightly, and rubbed the head of his cock against Hugh's hole, rocking back and forth and making Hugh fucking crazy for it, before fucking finally sinking in.

"Oh God." Hugh was sweating and shaking, taking it, and fuck, they'd done this before, but this was different. Everything felt hypersensitive, like he was going to fly to pieces every time Callum moved further inside of him, every time Callum's lips pressed hot and wet against his shoulder. "You -"

"Yeah," Callum panted, and gave his hips a wicked twist, and then he was balls-deep in Hugh's ass.

Hugh moaned, and pressed back, and he'd never wanted it this bad before in his whole fucking life; he felt like he was going to die if Callum didn't -

"Hang on," Callum was saying again, and Hugh fisted his hands in the sheets, and Callum pulled almost all the way out and then sank in again, so slow, too fucking slow. Like he was being careful; like he was concerned. When all Hugh wanted, all he fucking needed was - he managed to lift his head, and he swallowed before he said, his voice coming out all rough and fucked up, "That the best you can fucking do, Rennie?"

"You -" Callum cut himself off, but his fingers were running down the curve of Hugh's stomach again. "I don't -"

"Do it." Hugh was breathing hard, because oh holy god, it was so fucked up, but Callum's fingers tracing softly over his stomach was turning him on so hard he seriously thought he could maybe come from just that. He braced himself, and pushed back hard, driving himself against Callum's cock, and drawing a gasp and a string of curses out of Callum.

"You fucker," Callum said, but his tone was approving, and he drove forward, his cock going deep. Hugh dropped to his elbows, gasping. Oh yeah. That was it.

Callum drove into him again, and again, really giving it to him now. God, he'd been needing this, it was goddamned incredible, filling him up and driving him towards what sure as hell seemed like what was going to be the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life. Jesus. Jesus. He couldn’t take this, it was too much, it was perfect.

Callum had caught the rhythm now, was fucking him hard and fast and good. Hugh could hear Callum panting above him, and then he slid forward again, pressed up against Hugh's back. He wasn't going as deep from this angle, but the head of Callum's cock brushed up against Hugh's prostate with each thrust, and Hugh was biting his lip to keep from screaming, it was so good.

And then - oh holy fuck, this was going to break him to pieces - Callum's hand slid so fucking soft over his stomach, all the way down below it to grasp Hugh's cock. He was aching for it, and when Callum's hot fingers wrapped around him, he had to press his forehead against the wrinkled sheets. "Oh Christ, oh fuck," he chanted, couldn't stop, as Callum, behind him, mouthed at his back. Callum was jerking his cock in perfect, steady counterpoint to the rhythm of his cock in Hugh's ass.

Hugh was riding the edge here, so close, so fucking, fucking close. He couldn't - this wasn’t - he -

Callum drove in one more time, and that was it, that was it, Hugh was coming in these huge spurts over Callum's fist, shaking and sweating and crying out incoherently. It was - fuck, it was beyond anything else ever. It felt like his goddamn soul was being torn out; it was that fucking good.

And god, even after he finished coming, finally, Callum was still inside him, still fucking him. Hugh was wiped out, fucked out, but every time Callum drove his cock into him, it shook him from the inside out, and when Callum finally went in deep and stayed there, shooting deep inside Hugh and shaking his way through it, Hugh shook with him, trembling and dry-coming, his body wracked with orgasm.

He was still on his knees, but his arms were unsteady and he wasn't going to be able to hold it much longer. But Callum - Callum drew out of him, gasping softly as he did so, and shifted a little, moving enough so that he could ease Hugh down onto his side. He slid out of bed, then, and came back with a damp cloth, doing a quick clean up, which was totally a pussy thing to do, but Hugh was just as glad that he didn't have to move.

Callum spooned up behind him afterwards, all warm against his back, circling his hand around Hugh and resting it on the curve of his belly. He'd drawn the blankets up over the two of them again, and Hugh was in the circle of Callum's arms and so fucking tired he thought he might die.

Again.

He groaned, and pressed back a little. "Fuck, Callum."

Callum breathed out a laugh. "Take your mind off things?"

"Yeah." Hugh's brain was too foggy to even think about anything other than the fact that he'd just had the fuck of his life. "God, yeah." God, it had been like performing, like music; that kind of a high, that kind of a connection, like when you had a really good jam session, or the kind of concert where the audience fed into the music. Goddamned amazing - and fuck, Callum would never let him hear the fucking end of that if he said it out loud; Hugh'd be listening to golf analogies for the rest of his motherfucking life.

"Fuck it," Callum said sleepily, and his hand was still resting soft against Hugh's stomach. "We'll figure it out. It'll be fine."

"Right," Hugh said dimly. They would figure it out. Later. The two of them. Fuck, he was wiped out, here. "Fuck it. Whatever."

"Do you think it has ears, yet?"

Hugh blinked his eyes open. "What?"

"The baby. Does it have ears yet?" Callum asked again, his tone curious.

Hugh frowned. "Uh, yeah. I think so."

"Then maybe you should watch your fucking language, huh?" Callum's voice was deeply amused, and Hugh wanted more than anything else to pop him one. But he was too fucking tired to even turn over, and instead, he just pulled Callum's arm closer around him and closed his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, motherfucker," he murmured, and Callum breathed out a laugh against the back of his neck as Hugh drifted off to sleep.

~end~

---

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