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The digital clock on the nightstand blinked 3:17 AM, mocking Haechan with its steady, unhurried rhythm. Eight months pregnant and his husband was out there, somewhere in the concrete jungle, playing hero while Haechan's omega instincts were having a full-blown panic attack. He ran a hand over the taut, stretched skin of his stomach, where their pup was currently having what felt like a rave against his ribs.
"Settle down in there, little one," Haechan murmured, waddling from the bedroom to the living room for the seventeenth time that hour. "Your daddy's being an idiot, but he'll be home soon."
The mission file had been labeled "low risk extraction," which in agency speak translated to "probably a bloodbath." Jaemin, his husband and partner in both life and crime, had been gone for six hours longer than scheduled. Every minute that ticked by amped up Haechan's anxiety until it was a physical presence in the room, thick and suffocating.
He paused before the framed photo on their mantelpiece. It was their wedding day, both of them in sharp black suits, Jaemin looking devastatingly handsome while Haechan smirked at the camera, already planning their honeymoon mischief. That was a year ago, before the positive pregnancy test had changed everything.
Well, not everything. Apparently, it hadn't changed Haechan's tendency to dive headfirst into trouble.
That's when he made his decision. Screw desk duty and screw commander's orders. If Jaemin was in trouble, his husband was going to be there. Pregnant or not.
The old combat suit still fit, mostly. The black fabric stretched taut over Haechan's stomach, the zipper groaning in protest as if holding on for dear life. He caught his reflection in the hallway mirror and almost laughed—a very pregnant omega in tactical gear, looking like a maternity fashion shoot gone horribly wrong.
"Jaemin's going to have a heart attack," he said to his reflection, grinning. "This'll be fun."
The warehouse district smelled of rust and desperation as Haechan parked his car two blocks away from Jaemin's target location. He moved with practiced stealth despite the extra weight and his center of gravity being completely off. The black combat boots he'd worn on countless missions now felt foreign, as did the weight of the Glock tucked into the small of his back, carefully positioned above his waistband.
He found an open window on the second floor and hoisted himself up with a grunt that was definitely not agent-like. "Note to self," he panted, "pregnant omega infiltration is significantly less graceful."
Inside, the sounds of struggle guided him. He followed the noise to a large open space where crates created a maze of shadows. That's when he saw it—Jaemin on the ground, a hulking brute of a man with his hands wrapped around his husband's throat.
Something primal surged through Haechan. Without hesitation, he grabbed a nearby metal pipe and swung it with all his might against the man's back. The henchman grunted in pain and surprise, loosening his grip on Jaemin just enough for the alpha to buck him off.
Before the man could recover, Haechan had his gun drawn and fired two clean shots into his chest. The thud of the body hitting concrete was followed by Jaemin's coughing as he struggled to breathe.
"What the—" Jaemin's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his very pregnant husband standing over a dead body in a combat suit that looked ready to split at the seams. "Haechan? What in God's name are you doing here?"
Haechan flipped his hair back with practiced arrogance despite his racing heart. "Saving your ass, obviously. You're welcome."
Jaemin scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off. "Baby, I had it under control. I was just playing dead to get him to loosen his grip."
"Right," Haechan said with an eye roll. "Looked like you were turning quite blue there. Very convincing method."
"I'm serious," Jaemin stepped closer, his alpha scent thick with concern and something that smelled suspiciously like panic. "You shouldn't be here. It's too dangerous."
"So you don't want to see me?" Haechan's eyes suddenly welled with tears. "We're partners in every mission but now you don't want to be with me?"
Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just worried for you. It's too dangerous for you here."
"Well, duh," Haechan's mood shifted as quickly as a weather vane in a hurricane. "I can fight too, you know."
"You're pregnant," Jaemin said, as if that explained everything.
Haechan rolled his eyes so hard Jaemin was surprised they didn't get stuck. "And? The pup is well-protected in there. Besides, I didn't come all this way to stand around and look decorative."
The sound of footsteps approaching from multiple directions cut their argument short. Jaemin immediately moved to shield Haechan with his body. "Stay behind me."
"Like hell," Haechan muttered, drawing his second gun from an ankle holster. "I'm still a better shot than you."
The next few minutes were chaos. Five more henchmen emerged from the shadows, armed and ready. Jaemin fought like a man possessed, but his attention was divided. Every move calculated to keep his husband out of harm's way.
"Watch your six!" Jaemin yelled as Haechan ducked under a swinging arm and delivered a precise kick to the man's knee, following up with a shot to the shoulder when he went down.
"I'm watching my six, you watch your twelve!" Haechan called back, grinning wildly as he took down another attacker with two perfectly placed shots. "God, I've missed this!"
Jaemin's stress levels skyrocketed with every near-miss. He parried a knife aimed at Haechan's side, his heart stopping when he saw how close the blade had come to the baby. "Haechan, be careful!"
"I'm always careful," Haechan replied cheerfully, disarming another man and using him as a human shield against his companion. "See? Totally safe."
When the last man fell, Jaemin immediately turned to Haechan, his hands hovering over the omega's stomach as if afraid to touch. "Are you hurt? Did anything hit you? Do you need to sit down?"
Haechan waved dismissively. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Though—" He shifted uncomfortably. "My feet are killing me in these boots."
Jaemin stared at him, torn between relief, anger, and overwhelming love. "You're insane."
"Maybe a little," Haechan admitted with a grin. "Now, are you going to carry me out of here or what? I think I deserve a piggyback ride after saving your life."
Despite everything, Jaemin found himself laughing. He scooped Haechan up as gently as possible, mindful of the baby bump. "You're the most ridiculous omega I've ever met."
"And you're the alpha who almost got choked to death because you were too stubborn to call for backup," Haechan retorted, wrapping his arms around Jaemin's neck and nuzzling into his throat. "Now, let's go buy pasta and feed me. And you owe me a foot massage when we get home."
Jaemin sighed, but there was no real annoyance in it. "Baby, don't ever do that again."
Haechan giggled, pressing a soft kiss to Jaemin's cheek. "Hmm, I can't promise you that."
As they made their way out of the warehouse, Jaemin couldn't help but smile. His husband was pregnant, hormonal, and completely insane and he wouldn't have him any other way. Even if he did need to buy a new suit with a more accommodating zipper.
"Next time you're feeling restless," Jaemin said as they reached the car, "we're buying you a video game, not infiltrating a mafia warehouse."
"Where's the fun in that?" Haechan asked, already scrolling through his phone to find the nearest Italian restaurant. "Besides, someone needs to keep you on your toes."
Jaemin just shook his head, already resigned to the fact that his life would never be boring with Haechan by his side—pregnant or not. And honestly, he wouldn't have it any other way.