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“His name is Henry, Henry Hart,” Eggsy told him quietly once they were settled down in Harry’s bed.
The night was a little cold, but Eggsy’s body was warm next to him; and with all the lights off, the room was dark. Jolts of pain throbbed in his head, and he watched with bleary eyes as Eggsy leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his scar to soothe away the ache. The blond child was sleeping on his own cot – positioned not far from Harry’s bed – unaware of how sweet he smelt to Harry, how soft and comforting Harry found his scent to be.
Henry smelt exactly like his omega father, and Harry felt the need to protect the little boy like how he needed to protect his omega father.
Eggsy rubbed his thumb against his cheek, and Harry leaned into the warm touch like a fish takes to water. His left arm felt a bit numb, from where it rested under Eggsy’s shoulders, but Harry tried and managed to pull Eggsy even closer to him. Blond hair tickled his nose, and made him lose his focus a bit, but Harry drowned in their mixed, comforting scent.
It felt a bit surreal; having to wake up after being in coma for more than a year, and the first person that he saw, had their guileless blue eyes staring back at him. Harry had thought they looked familiar, but the small body wearing a wolf pup onesie – little wolf with paws and a tail, complete with hoodie with wolf ears – sitting on his bed, back supported by the rails on Harry’s hospital bed, was not. The child gave away the scent that indicated that the child was a male omega – such young thing, such sweet, young thing – and he looked like he was happy, like he was right where he wanted to be.
Harry, in his blurry confusion, still managed to estimate the age of the child – who could not have been more than a year old, unless he was really a small child. With his large blue eyes, toothy smile, the pink cheeks swollen with baby fat, and curly blond hair-
Oh.
The staring had gone on for a few seconds too long, before the child tilted his head slightly to the left; blond curls fell against his forehead and a giggle escaped his lips, “Pa… Papa! Papapapa-”
‘Oh Lord,’ Harry had thought to himself as his primal alpha growled in approval of his pup’s recognition of his father, ‘Oh Lord.’
The face that Eggsy had made that morning, right after Henry called him ‘papa’, was priceless. His blue eyes were wide and he gaped for a second too long once he entered the room and watched the scene. But Harry had never seen much more beautiful sight in his life. His omega was at the door, his glasses in his hand – he probably went out for a moment to answer a call – and he looked just like Harry imagined he was in his long dream. Clad in black pants, white shirt with a brown cashmere cardigan, and hair slicked back. He looked a tad mature, not like how he did when Harry left him in their bed right before he was shot in the head – naked, happy, with a mating bite on his throat, and a baby in his belly oh Lord oh Lord –
“His first word was this morning… that was his first word, Harry,” he felt Eggsy murmur against his shoulder; soft and compliant, waking him from his reverie. Harry felt like he should apologize for stealing their child’s first word from Eggsy, but missing Eggsy had put too much toll on his body. He wanted to just fall into the depth of unconsciousness with his omega right in his arms.
“He smells a lot like you.”
‘No,’ Harry wanted to say, ‘Our child smells a lot like you, he smells so wonderful, kind, lovely, and beautiful, like you,’
But he had just woken up this morning, and the doctors had been fussing over him too much. The news that he was now a father was also too much, albeit much more wonderful. Though, right now, Harry would very much appreciate comforting silence and the warm body next to him. Eggsy’s arms were tight where they wrapped around his torso, and Harry pressed a sleepy kiss on his forehead.
“Were you scared?” He couldn’t help but asked. His murmur echoed in the silent room, but it was not enough to wake Henry up. He felt Eggsy tighten his grip around him, before the young omega looked up at him with his pretty blue eyes and content written all over his face.
“No,” Eggsy whispered back, firm, strong, like how he always was, and Harry loved him so very much, “But I was scared for him.”
A hand clasped his, and Harry’s palm travelled under his lover’s shirt where Eggsy led him, and there it was. Harry felt it, a long scar, and a deep one at that. Harry took a shaky breath in, slow and barely controlled, before his own brown eyes looked back at Eggsy’s. Eggsy smiled at him like he knew a secret, and he was going to share it with Harry right where they were now. One of the scars was long, cut across Eggsy’s abdomen and Harry felt his insides go cold at the thoughts of what could have happened whilst he was sleeping.
“It was an ambush at home, and I was shot right here,” Eggsy murmured against Harry’s lower lip, and Harry chased it for a favour of soft, gentle pecks. His hand, however, let Harry touch the deep bullet scar on his left side of the waist instead, “And I was just entering my 8th month.”
“Percival saved us, but they had to put me in for a c-section,” Eggsy continued in a lower voice, Harry watching him with half lidded eyes, but his attention did not waver away from his younger mate, “I was so terrified he wouldn’t make it.”
Their clasped hands stopped right in the middle of Eggsy’s abdomen, and Harry made a mental note to kiss the scar hundreds and thousands of times, once he was strong enough to sit down properly. So right now, the only thing left for him to kiss was Eggsy’s closing eyelids, and breathe in the scent of his mated omega. His alpha happily purred at the close contact, and Harry knew his eyes were gradually turning into dark red slits.
“But he did,” Harry continued the story for the two of them. Their tangled legs were warm against each other, but Harry’s voice was proud and sincere when he addressed their sleeping son not far from them, “He did because he is a survivor.”
Eggsy laughed against his lips, they kissed again and again, and Harry didn’t think he could live without this anymore when he knew how wonderful it felt like, “Of course he is, our Henry is a survivor, just like his papa.”
The nickname turned his stomach into a flip, and Harry couldn’t help but wrapping his lover tighter in his arms, their lips never left each other in a fervent kiss.
The talks about their living arrangement, about what had happened while Harry was sleeping, and about how much Harry couldn’t wait to meet his son properly, could wait until tomorrow.
After all, Harry wasn’t planning to leave again anytime soon.