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Ominis arched with a broken moan as Sebastian thrust into him again, deep and merciless, like he wanted to split him open and stay buried inside forever. The mattress creaked furiously beneath them, but neither of them heard it anymore. All that existed was the wet slap of their bodies colliding, Ominis’s desperate gasps, and that animalistic growl Sebastian let out against his throat every time he felt the blond’s inner walls clench tighter around him.
“Fuck… Ominis…” Sebastian bit down on his earlobe, teeth scraping as he picked up speed, muscles taut, forehead glistening with sweat that dripped down his temple. “I’m gonna—”
Ominis answered by raking his nails down Sebastian’s back, leaving angry red lines, legs trembling around his hips as he pushed up to meet every brutal thrust. The vanilla candle burned forgotten on the nightstand, its sweet scent drowned out by the raw musk of sweat, come, and unrestrained want.
“Do it inside,” Ominis whispered suddenly, voice frantic and urgent, almost a sob. “Please, Seb. Do it inside. I want to feel all of you.”
Sebastian froze for a full second. Eyes wide, breath caught in his throat.
“Are you sure?” he asked, even though he was already shaking with the effort of holding back, hips grinding in slow, torturous circles.
Ominis nodded fast, almost frantic, and clamped his thighs around Sebastian’s hips like he wanted to weld him there permanently.
“Y-yes, please, fill me up.”
And Sebastian obeyed.
He sank in to the hilt one last time, growling Ominis’s name against his collarbone as he came hard inside him. It was intense, hot, overwhelming. Ominis let out a long, trembling moan, arching fully, feeling every pulse, every twitch. They stayed like that for several endless seconds, stuck together, panting, until Sebastian finally collapsed on top of him—careful not to crush him completely.
“…shit,” Sebastian muttered at last, laughing softly against Ominis’s skin. “That was…”
“Too fucking good,” Ominis finished, running shaky fingers through Sebastian’s sweat-damp hair. “I don’t know why we waited so long to do this.”
Sebastian lifted his head, crooked grin and just a hint of guilt.
“Because I’m a cautious idiot who always thinks about consequences two seconds after I’ve already come inside.”
Ominis let out a soft laugh and gave him a weak smack on the chest.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Seb. What consequences? You think I’m going to get magically pregnant or something?” He rolled his eyes even though Sebastian couldn’t fully see it. “Shut up and cuddle me before I regret begging you to fill me.”
And that’s exactly what they did.
.
.
.
The next few days started out normal. Too normal, actually.
Until Wednesday morning.
Sebastian woke up because Ominis practically bolted out of bed toward the bathroom. The unmistakable sound of retching made him sit bolt upright.
“Love? You okay?”
Silence. Then the faucet running. Then Ominis appeared in the doorway, pale, hair a mess, looking like he’d just watched his life flash before his eyes.
“I feel like I got hit by an ice cream truck,” he mumbled, leaning against the frame, “and then it reversed to make sure.”
Sebastian frowned, genuinely worried.
“Was it the sushi we ordered?”
“I don’t know…” Ominis dropped onto the edge of the bed, hand on his forehead. “Dizziness when I stand up, constant nausea, low abdominal pain… like I did a thousand crunches by accident.”
Sebastian stared at him for one second. Then another. Then his eyes slowly widened, like he was solving a very complicated puzzle.
“Ominis, sweetheart,” he said slowly, “did you take any contraception after… you know?”
Ominis looked at him like he’d asked if the sky was green.
“Why the hell would I take contraception, Sebastian? I don’t have a uterus. What’s next, I stick an IUD up my ass just in case?”
Sebastian went quiet. Blinking. Processing.
And then he let out a very nervous laugh. Extremely nervous.
“Right. Obviously. You’re right.” He scratched the back of his neck, staring at the ceiling like it held answers. “It’s just that… morning nausea, dizziness, sensitivity… it sounds like—”
Ominis narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t say it.”
“…pregnancy.”
Ominis went completely still. Then he shot up, swaying.
“I’m gonna throw up again.”
And he ran back to the bathroom.
Sebastian stayed sitting on the bed, staring at the open door, muttering to himself.
“I’m an idiot. A very, very big idiot.”
From the bathroom came Ominis’s weak but indignant voice.
“You are, Sallow!”
And Sebastian, because he couldn’t stay quiet even during an existential crisis, shouted back.
“I love you! Even though I now think I got you pregnant with sheer willpower and toxic love!”
Ominis poked his head out, pale but with an incredulous, tired smile.
“You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“And you’re the best,” Sebastian replied, grinning like an idiot. “Should we go to the pharmacy for a pregnancy test? Just so we can laugh when it’s negative and I look like the dramatic fool of the century.”
Ominis sighed.
“Only because I want to see your face when it’s negative and you realize it was your shitty sushi that poisoned me.”
.
.
.
The pharmacy was one of those old neighborhood ones that still has a little bell when you walk in and an old man behind the counter who looks at you like he already knows exactly what you’re going to buy.
Sebastian went in first, still wearing his “this is going to be epic” grin. Ominis trailed behind, dragging his feet, one hand on his stomach and a face that screamed “why am I still dating you?”
“Good morning,” Sebastian greeted with way too much energy. “We’d like a pregnancy test… and, uh… something for the stomach. Antacids, anti-nausea pills. My boyfriend’s having a very dramatic case of food poisoning.”
The pharmacist raised an eyebrow, glanced at Ominis (who was leaning against the vitamin shelf like he might faint), then back at Sebastian.
“Pregnancy test?” he repeated, dead serious.
Ominis jumped in quickly, voice weak but firm.
“Yes, it’s for a friend…”
Sebastian burst out laughing so loud an old lady in the diaper aisle turned around.
The pharmacist just sighed, went to the drawer, and pulled out one of the cheap ones. He set it on the counter next to a blister pack of omeprazole and another of domperidone.
“That’ll be £9.99,” he said flatly.
They left the pharmacy cackling like idiots, Sebastian swinging the paper bag like a trophy.
.
.
.
Back home, the mood shifted a little. The jokes kept coming, but now there was a thin thread of nerves underneath.
Ominis locked himself in the bathroom with the test. Sebastian stayed outside, sitting on the floor with his back against the door, talking out loud like it would help.
“Did you do it yet? How long now? Two minutes, right? Or three? Want me to set a timer? I can sing the countdown if you’re bored.”
A growl came from inside.
“Shut up, Sebastian, you’re making me more nervous.”
“Sorry.” Three seconds of silence.
The door flew open.
Ominis came out pale, frozen, holding the pregnancy test screen-down.
“Seb… you check it. Tell me what you see.”
Sebastian stood up slowly, took the test carefully.
Two clear, unmistakable lines.
He swallowed hard. Looked at Ominis.
“I think… we’re not going to need those stomach pills.”
Ominis swayed.
“What?”
“It’s positive. Very positive.”
Sebastian put both hands on his head.
“Fuck, fuck. I got you pregnant with my irresponsible stallion superpowers.”
Ominis let out a hysterical laugh and covered his face.
“This can’t be real, we’re both men, how— Are you fucking with me, Seb?”
“No, no, I swear, two lines.” Sebastian pulled him into a tight hug. “We’re going to have a baby, Ominis.”
Ominis clung to his shirt.
“God… you’re going to be a terrible dad.”
“And you’re going to be a beautiful, grumpy dad,” Sebastian replied, kissing his temple. “But we’ll do it right, I swear.”
Ominis looked up, eyes shiny.
“What if I regret it and leave you alone with the baby?”
“I’ll hunt you down across the world and drag you back by the hair.”
Ominis let out a genuine laugh this time.
“You’re a disaster.”
“The best disaster you’ll ever have,” Sebastian said, placing a hand on Ominis’s flat stomach with a tenderness that clashed wildly with all the nonsense before. “Hi, little gremlin. I’m your dad Seb. And I just fucked up big time, but I love you anyway.”
Ominis laid his hand over Sebastian’s.
.
.
.
The next few hours were emotional chaos. Sebastian swung between suggesting absurd baby names (“What about ‘Sushi’ in honor of the food we thought was to blame?”) and frantically Googling “can men get pregnant myth or reality?” on his phone, while Ominis curled up on the couch with a blanket, sipping water and muttering that this was all a stress-induced nightmare.
In the end, they decided not to wait and called a family friend of Sebastian’s (a urologist who always made awkward jokes at gatherings) and got an emergency appointment that same afternoon.
In the waiting room, Sebastian couldn’t sit still.
“What if it’s a miracle?” he whispered. “What if we’re the first in history? We could end up on Netflix. ‘The Impossible Pregnancy: Two Boys and a Surprise Baby’.”
Ominis elbowed him.
“Shut up or I’m leaving you here and going home alone.”
The doctor, a guy in his fifties with a thick mustache and a laugh like thunder, greeted them with one raised eyebrow. “Alright, lads. No beating around the bush. A positive pregnancy test… in a man?”
Sebastian blurted the whole story: the sex, the “inside,” the nausea, the test. Ominis just nodded, red as a tomato. The doctor looked at them for a second. Then burst into loud, endless laughter. He doubled over the desk, tears in his eyes.
“Oh God. Lads… lads…” he finally gasped, wiping his face. “First, congrats on the relationship. Second, no, Ominis, you’re not pregnant. That’s impossible unless you’re a seahorse.”
Ominis let out a huge sigh of relief, practically deflating.
“So what? The test was defective?”
The doctor shook his head, still chuckling.
“We did a quick blood test while you were waiting. Your hCG levels are normal. Zero. Nothing. The test gave a false positive. Happens sometimes with bad batches, or if it gets wet wrong, or weird chemical interference. But in your case…” He glanced at Ominis’s previous exam results. “Your nausea and dizziness are from mild food poisoning. Probably that sushi you mentioned. And the abdominal pain… well, let’s just say the recent ‘exercise’ didn’t help with pre-existing indigestion.”
Sebastian blinked.
“False positive? Seriously?”
“Completely. No baby, no miracle. Just a cheap test that decided to play a prank on you.” The doctor leaned forward, winking. “But hey, if you want to practice for the future, adopt a cat. Or a fish. Something that doesn’t require pregnancy tests.”
They left the office laughing like maniacs. Ominis leaning on Sebastian, still weak from the nausea but with a huge smile.
“I told you,” Ominis said, giving him a playful shove. “It wasn’t your ‘irresponsible stallion.’ It was the sushi.” Sebastian wrapped an arm around his waist, kissing his cheek.
“Hey, at least now we know if we ever want a real baby, we’ll have to adopt. Or steal one. Imagine: ‘Sallow & Gaunt: Baby Thieves’.”
Ominis rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop laughing.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re my favorite impossible,” Sebastian replied, stopping in the street to kiss him properly under the afternoon sun. “Let’s go home. I’ll make you something gentle for your stomach. No more sushi ever.”
Ominis smiled against his lips.
“Deal. But next time you want to go ‘inside,’ use a condom. Just in case.”
Sebastian burst out laughing.
“Lesson learned.”
They got home, collapsed on the couch between laughs and hugs. The panic turned into an anecdote, and the positive test… well, they framed it as “the day we almost became dads by mistake.”
.
.
.
Night fell quietly. Low lights, a penguin documentary playing on the TV (because Ominis needed “something innocent before you give me a heart attack”). Sebastian was making chamomile tea with honey, swearing it was “my grandma’s miracle cure.”
Ominis stayed sprawled on the couch, wrapped in the biggest blanket they owned, one hand resting on his stomach. The vomiting had stopped, but he still had that heavy, uncomfortable feeling that made him sigh every few minutes. He stared at his flat belly, absently stroking it with his fingers, and suddenly murmured softly, almost to himself.
“What an idiot I was… for a second I really thought there was something in there.”
His voice came out sadder than he intended. Not deep sadness—just that silly melancholy you get when you realize something impossible isn’t going to happen. He kept staring at his navel like it owed him an explanation. Sebastian came out of the kitchen with the steaming mug and saw him like that: curled up, hand on his stomach, looking like an abandoned puppy. He couldn’t resist.
He set the mug carefully on the table, sneaked up behind the couch, and without warning leaned down and spoke directly to Ominis’s stomach in an over-the-top dramatic radio voice.
“Attention, attention, nonexistent little gremlin. This is your almost-dad Sebastian speaking. We regret to inform you that your nine-month lease on this belly has been canceled due to false alarm. No deposit refund. Thank you for your brief and illusory stay. Goodbye, champ!”
Ominis froze for a second. Then let out a choked, incredulous laugh.
“You’re such an asshole,” he said, but the smile was already breaking through.
Sebastian didn’t give up. He knelt beside the couch, placed both hands on Ominis’s stomach like it was a microphone, and kept going.
“Dear Mr. Gaunt, we regret to inform you there will be no mini-Sallow. Please note that for future attempts, the following are required: 1) functional uterus, 2) eggs, 3) divine miracle. Thank you for choosing Sallow Sperm Corp. Come back soon!”
Ominis burst into full laughter. He covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking.
“Stop, my stomach hurts from laughing, you idiot.”
Sebastian climbed onto the couch, settled behind him, and wrapped him in a hug from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. No more radio voice—just soft, warm Sebastian against his ear.
“Hey… seriously,” he murmured, kissing his temple. “Even though it was a false alarm… for a little while, I was actually excited. Imagining you with a little bump, a mini-us running around… fuck, I liked the idea.”
Ominis turned his head a bit to look at him. His eyes were still a little shiny, but not from sadness anymore. “You really weren’t panicked?”
“Panicked, yeah,” Sebastian admitted with a small laugh. “But the good kind. The kind that makes you want to buy a bigger house and learn how to change diapers even if I faint trying.”
Ominis sighed, settled better against his chest, and let Sebastian lay a hand over the one he had on his stomach. “Maybe someday,” he said quietly. “But not because of a defective test and bad sushi.”
“Someday,” Sebastian repeated, rubbing gentle circles on his belly. “For now, we’re going to pamper this stomach. No heavy food, no stress, just tea, penguin documentaries, and me giving you massages until you fall asleep.”
He lifted the chamomile mug and brought it to Ominis’s lips.
“Drink, my favorite grump. This is going to do wonders.”
Ominis obeyed, sipping slowly. Then he rested his head on Sebastian’s shoulder and murmured,
“I love you, Seb, even if you make me believe in impossible miracles.”
“I love you more, Omi.” He squeezed his hand over his stomach. “And this empty little belly too. We’re going to take care of it until it forgets all about the sushi.”
They stayed like that for a long while, wrapped around each other on the couch, the penguin documentary humming in the background, the tea cooling on the table, and their laughter slowly melting into calm sighs.
In the end, Ominis fell asleep with his head on Sebastian’s chest, and Sebastian kept tracing slow circles on his stomach, grinning like an idiot while he thought.
False alarm or not… someday we’re going to fill this house with real chaos. And it’s going to be epic.