Ottis beamed. “I know. I’ve been blessed by Mother Moon.”
“And you have blessed me.”
Ottis’ blush sent warmth all the way to Doc’s toes.
They took each step together—smaller to accommodate Ottis’ shorter legs and pregnancy—and it felt as though everyone was watching them with bated breath.
The moment they completed the first lap, a light breeze picked up around them, and the circles glowed a faint blue.
Ottis tensed, holding his belly.
“Sweetheart?”
Ottis frowned. “Almost felt like... a contraction.”
A hushed gasp spread through the atrium. Doc narrowed his eyes. “You’re not due yet. And even if you were early, the chances of that happening...”
“Are not zero,” Ottis finished with another small gasp.
“... Fuck,” Doc whispered. “Do you want to keep going, or stop the ceremony?”
Ottis hesitated. He looked at the glowing circles, and at everyone gathered around. “Let’s keep going.”
“Alright.” Doc squeezed his hand. He raised his voice again and announced, “Twice as a promise.”
These words of ritual raised the hair on his skin. More so when Ottis lifted his chin and kept walking, one foot in front of the other, toes feeling for the grooves of his circle.
Two steps in, Ottis shuddered again, his hand squeezing tight around Doc’s. “Another contraction.”
“Fuck,” Doc muttered. “I don’t want to speed this up more than we should. Don’t want to make a mistake.”
“I’m fine,” Ottis grumbled. “We’ll just keep going. I’m just telling you about the contractions as they happen.”
“You’re doing good,” Doc said, lifting Ottis’ hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. Ottis smiled.
Halfway through the second lap, Ottis paused, clutching his belly. “Fuck. I think my water just broke.”
“Fuck,” Doc said.
“I think you jinxed yourself,” someone whispered.
Ottis groaned. “We’ll keep going.”
Doc breathed a sigh when they finished the second lap, and a stronger gust of wind picked up.
“Three times for a future well-told,” he announced, feeling the tingle of magic in his body. More quietly, he said to Ottis, “Last round.”
Ottis squeezed his hand, and they began the third lap.
The moment they took another step, Ottis gripped his hand tight. “I think... I think the pup’s coming.”
“Fuck,” Doc said, echoed by a few people.
“Do you think I can... hold it in?” Ottis blurted. “Like if I... shove my hand up my ass?”
Doc sighed. “You... could try. I can’t say I ever thought this would happen at my own bonding ceremony.”
Someone snickered. Ottis shoved his hand down the back of his pants, walking unsteadily on his circle. Doc had to guide him so he placed his foot down on the carved groove; Ottis’ attention was split between walking and their pup.
