“Not really. But it feels nice.” Dray heaved a deep sigh.
“It’s a few weeks early…” Tripp couldn’t help the fear festering inside of him despite Dray’s perfect calm.
“It’s fine. They may still have their egg intact, but the medic will decide if we can tear the membrane or wait a few days. My papa said I refused to leave my egg for three whole days after I was born.” Dray snickered.
“So how long before this whole trance thing starts?” Tripp rubbed his belly and swayed his hips, keeping Dray moving. It was probably the right thing to do.
“No clue. Sooner than later, I’d imagine. Just put a bathrobe on me backward, settle me down on a towel by the tub, and unlock the front door for when they get here.” Dray sagged in Tripp’s arms and luxuriated in the warmth, his breath growing shallow.
“Righto.” Tripp helped Dray out and did as he was told, wrapping him in the oversized robe, settling him down to lean back against the tub. He stoked the fireplace to warm the cabin some more and ensured the front door was unlocked. “Am I supposed to boil water or something?”
Tripp got back to the bathroom and found Dray leaning, eyes closed, breath sawing out slowly, almost as if he were asleep. “Dray?”
“Mn?” He shifted his hips uncomfortably, belly knotting up beneath the folds of the robe in a visible cinch.
“Do I boil water?”
“Nah. Just come hold me.” Dray reached his arms out, and Tripp sat, scooting into a cross-legged position where Dray leaned against him, awkwardly propping his hips up and nestling his head in Tripp’s lap. He didn’t seem particularly with-it, so Tripp stroked his wet hair and waited for the clinician to arrive.
About twenty minutes later, Dray’s breath hitched, body strained, and the towel between his legs pooled with a fresh gush of fluid under the strain of what must have been a push. A few minutes after that? Again, he pushed, body tensing up, back arching.
Tripp glanced at Dray’s phone and then his own, the time since the call pushing over forty-five minutes, into fifty. “Where are they?”
He had a thought light up and sent a quick text to Rick—who was likely at their new house decorating and cleaning still. It was a month or two off from being move-in ready, but Rick had promised to have it good to go for them as their wedding gift. Tripp was paying him, anyway, but Dray didn’t need to know that. Rick wasn’t exactly flush.
Dray only groaned and pushed again.
Tripp picked up the phone and readied himself to call when the front door opened with a sharp creak and a voice announced, “I’m here for Dray. Is all well?”
“We’re back here. Bathroom, second door on the right.” Tripp waved a hand at the doorway for all the good it did.
A moment later, a perky face, one unfamiliar to him, brightened in the doorway. A svelte little omega brightened as he eyed the situation. “Sorry. We had several people going into labor at once, traffic and all that. Nelly sent me here. They’ve got a higher-risk birth that needs her attention. My name’s Branden. You can check the list if you like to make sure I’m on it. I believe Dray and I spoke once on a check-in.”
“Rabbit, right?” Tripp nodded slowly.
“Yep! But I have delivered a few dozen eggs. I think we’re going to be just fine.” Branden set a bag beside Dray’s struggling form, went to the sink to wash his hands, and then pulled out a kneeling pad to get down. He snapped on some gloves and went in to investigate with a half smile of delight. “Just in time. He’s still tranced?”
Tripp nodded.
“Good. Good, good!” Branden put a puppy pad under Dray’s splayed knees and investigated, sliding his gloved fingers somewhere Tripp didn’t care to guess as Dray grunted with strain almost on command. “Ooof! Yep, making progress. I’m going to do a little tugging on his rectum to open him a bit more and line his sphincter to his pseudo-cloaca.”
The terminology flew over Tripp’s head, but he guessed that meant Branden was stretching him open and the process involved a generous squirt of a single-use packet of lube. The squelch of liquids and whimper from Dray’s lips told him something was happening.
Tripp did all he knew to do, stroking over Dray’s head and neck, letting him quiver, whimper, and push as the clinician did what he did. He brought out another puppy pad after a while, disposing of the first one as pink fluid had soaked and filled it. Still, more came, more pushing, and in a flash, Branden pushed the robe up over Dray’s ass, situated his hips, and Dray’s body convulsed. Every muscle tensed and shook, and with a flurry of movement, Branden brought out a baby blanket, wet it in the tub next to him, and leaned down, his face a mask of concentration.
Swallowing hard, Tripp dared to ask, “Is it?”
“One more push, maybe two. Once the crown comes out, the whole thing slides out pretty easy.” Branden rushed forward and pressed on Dray’s hips, rocking them gently for a moment and, in a penultimate contraction, Dray’s body seized and jerked. Branden rushed to catch something in the damp blanket and grinned, wrapping it ever so gently before handing it around to Tripp to hold.
It was smaller than Tripp imagined, still far bigger than anything that had a right to come from his mate’s channel. The skin of it was textured, light raspy bumps still soft over the surface. A slow flurry of motion rippled the shell, and Tripp blinked at it. “It’s an indigo’s eggshell; does that mean our little one is an indigo?”
“No, any species born would have his eggshell. The shell comes from his glands. You can usually tell the species by eye color. He’s got black eyes and you’ve got silver, so that’s the best indicator you have. Not foolproof, but you can also lift the little one’s tongue and see if they’ve got venom sacs ornot.” Branden cleaned up fastidiously, working a pair of medical undergarments onto Dray once he was clean.
“Let’s get him into bed, and I’ll take his vitals.” Branden took his gloves off, and Tripp hesitated, not wanting to let go of the egg but also wanting to help his mate up.
“Set Junior down for a moment. They’ll be fine.” Branden stood and gestured as Tripp settled the egg in its damp blanket before helping Dray up. They carried him to the bed, settling him in while Branden put a shirt on him and Tripp went to retrieve their egg.
“My suggestion is to get home as soon as he’s awake.” Branden went about taking Dray’s blood pressure, pulse, temperature, and then combed his hair down. The tattoos along Dray’s chest and stomach had changed a little, but they’d return in time. An open spot of pink skin on Dray’s chest held the space that his rattler would be soon. Dray didn’t want any new tattoos until their little one was born. “If he’s not hatched in forty-eight hours, call us and we’ll send someone to check. If he stops moving, definitely give us a call. Keep him warm and swap the damp blanket out every six hours.”
