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Stiles feels heavy, logie, and very, very grumpy. Slumped on the couch, unable to get up without help, he pokes at his distended stomach and growls as best a human can. The baby, riding low and to the front, kicks back and, for a moment, Stiles feels the bliss of carrying a new life.
But then his aching back makes itself known again and he squirms and twists, trying to get comfortable. Finally, he gives in and calls for his mate.
Exiting his study where he was undoubtedly in the middle of a deal--he's an art broker--Peter looks harried, but he doesn't hesitate to join Stiles and his voice is pleasant, if a tiny bit tense. "What do you need, darling?"
"My back pillow. A back rub. A new back." Trying to lean forward, Stiles rubs a fist against his lower back and groans at the ache and stretch. Peter fetches the hard wedge and helps him move forward enough to place it, his hand lingering to draw out some of Stiles' pain, but it's not a good idea to numb him. He's only a few weeks from his due date; the baby could come any time and if he feels no pain, with no way for water to break, he won't know he's in labor.
"Better?" Peter asks, concerned, and Stiles nods, giving him a sheepish look.
"Sorry for whining."
Peter drops to his knees between Stiles' legs, takes his hands and kisses them lovingly. "You whine all you want. I can take it."
"You deserve it."
Snorting in agreement, because Peter learned early on that he better damn well agree with pretty much everything his pregnant male mate says, Peter nods and reaches for the cocoa butter, then smooths up the double extra large t-shirt to bare Stiles' stomach. Stretch marks mar the pale skin, but the lotion helps, and he gently rubs more in as Stiles whimpers in pleasure and the baby kicks.
"Our cub is strong," Peter murmurs.
"Our cub is trying to kick his way out. He's going to play soccer, I swear."
"Basketball."
"Lacrosse."
It's an old argument and they both grin at each other, then Peter pulls the top down and leans up to kiss Stiles before asking, "Do you need anything else?"
"Labor?" Stiles sighs and shakes his head. "Not at the moment, but...you'll come if I do?"
"I'll drop trading the world to fetch you whatever you need." And he's serious.
Any deal can fall through. Stiles' smile is reward enough.
End