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shieldofiron · 1 year ago

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You Never Can Tell

This fic is inspired by my Sims Harringrove family, and is a celebration of my 1000 follower count (now it’s more than 1000 but shh act like I had this ready on time.) Omegaverse with Mpreg (With a Twist), Omega Steve and Alpha Billy, SUPER FLUFFY. Also on AO3 here.

Steve didn’t believe he was really going to do this. As if to punctuate the thought, the baby kicked in his stomach, and he instinctively covered his stomach with his hand.

Hargrove couldn’t meet his eye, silently adding a new pillowcase to one of his pillows, but his eyes darted to Steve’s stomach. He’d been trying not to stare, which Steve appreciated, but some things couldn’t be helped.

“Thanks for doing this,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice steady while the baby kicked the shit out of his ribs.

“Don’t mention it,” Billy said gruffly, tossing the pillow onto the thin mattress, “Least I can do.”

That wasn’t true. Billy could do a lot less. Steve had been couchsurfing for weeks, trying to find something more permanent than being hidden in Nancy’s basement, subsisting on pop tarts and whatever Jonathan could spare from dinner.

The situation with his parents had been slowly deteriorating ever since he had to tell them that the alpha was attending university and Steve didn’t want to tell her. Besides, he didn’t really have any attachment to her, and Steve wasn’t looking to turn this into some sort of shotgun mating.

When he’d told his father that he wasn’t interested in repeating his parent’s mistakes and mating the first person that had knocked him up, everything had gone from bad to worse.

Steve thought they would get over it. They thought he would eventually freak and give the baby away or get an abortion. And before it got really bad and they damaged everything forever, Steve had decided to move out.

It wasn’t like they really knew him. At least not all the parts of him. They were practically ghosts to each other, rattling around in a big house, not a family at all. They didn’t understand why Steve wanted this, even if it was hard. They didn’t understand wanting a family, or they wouldn’t have made just a facsimile of one.

And they weren’t interested in having an unmated pregnant omega around, even if he was their son. So it was a surprise that Billy Hargrove was interested. At all.

The alpha had changed since the whole disaster at Starcourt. They all had. But Billy Hargrove going from polite nods in the grocery store to offering to room with Steve and giving up his bedroom for a baby… that hadn’t been on Steve’s bingo card for this year at all.

The next best offer was staying at the Byers, but between El and Hopper, the house was getting fuller by the minute.

Billy plucked Steve’s pregnancy pillow from his arms and laid it out over the center of the bed, “There. It’ll be just like a sleepover.”

“Yeah. Every night.”

Billy laughed, “Just the three of us.”

Steve’s hand fell back to his stomach instinctively.

“You, me, and old reliable here,” Billy patted the pillow, “Unless she has a name.”

Steve huffed out a little laugh, “Not yet.”

Billy eyed the fat pink thing, “Looks like a Dorothy to me.”

Steve smiled, “I think she’s more of a Blanche.”

Billy grinned, sliding a hand along the pillow, “Oh really? My kinda girl.”

“You’re really cool with this? I can sleep on the floor until I get a cot.”

Billy’s scent flared with displeasure, igniting the room quickly and then dissipating, “I’m not making a pregnant dude sleep on the fucking floor. No way.”

Steve was too afraid to ask if Billy would sleep on the floor. He thought Max had mentioned something about a bad back, the doctors having to fuse or nail the lower vertebrae of Billy’s spine.

And besides… it wasn’t like Billy was going to make a move on him or something. There had been a time in high school where Steve had thought maybe, but…

In the dark, trying to get comfortable around his pregnancy pillow, with Billy pumping out calming alpha hormones, that time seemed all too real.

Not that Steve was looking for an alpha. He had a lot on his mind. He’d gone from spending his pitiful paychecks liberally, on treats for Dustin and expensive hair products, to counting his pennies to buy a crib and make up his half of the rent. In the dark, Steve tugged on his too long hair where it curled over his collar.

“Does the baby have a name yet?” Billy’s voice wasn’t quite a whisper, but it wasn’t nearly near his normal speaking voice. The sound skittered across Steve’s skin, painting his cheeks pink.

Steve tugged the pregnancy pillow closer, trying to arrange it so that his stomach was comfortable. This was weird, right? Or is the weirdest part that he didn’t feel all that weird about it.

“I was thinking if it’s a girl… I like Tessa,” Steve mumbled, “And if it’s a boy, maybe like, Ben? Or Benjamin. I dunno.”

“Sounds nice,” Billy did that half whisper thing again.

———————————

Steve had to delay getting the cot because Billy found a deal on a crib, they just had to drive to the next town to get it. Then Billy pointed out that a cot probably wouldn’t be good for Steve’s back and besides, they had a good thing going with Dorothy/Blanche between them. And didn’t it make the most sense for Steve to get stuff for the baby first?

Steve had to admit, he was getting more and more used to this one bed thing. They’d officially moved it into the dining room after Billy built the crib in one afternoon while Steve was at work.

And it got less awkward as time went on. Both the bed thing and the roommate thing. They angled the tv so that they could see it from the bed, and went to sleep watching old movies that Steve brought back from Family Video and reruns and shit, curled around the pregnancy pillow. Steve spent a lot of time readying for the baby in their new room, tucking newly cleaned onesies into the thrift store dresser that they’d found and Billy had kindly painted for him.

Billy was always making too much for dinner because he was used to cooking for his whole family, so there was often more than enough for Steve, and anyone else who came over too. Even Dustin had grudgingly admitted that Billy was a good cook after Billy had made the whole party spaghetti. He’d made fast friends with Robin, and sometimes Steve would go to bed while they chattered away for hours in the kitchen, only waking when Billy slid in next to him, murmuring quiet goodnights.

Some people still found it weird.

“When is he gonna get his own bed?” Max was trying to be quiet, but apparently that didn’t run in either hers or Billy’s family.

Steve balanced the groceries on his hip and shut the door gently behind him, leaning back and stretching out his sore back.

“I dunno, Max, it’s fine,” Billy said back, the alpha’s voice pitched low like a warning growl.

“I just think-”

“Max, lay off, okay,” Billy huffed. “It’s Harrington’s decision. And we haven’t had any problems yet.”

“But it’s not fair, I can’t believe you’re letting it happen.”

Steve frowned, not sure what she meant by that.

“It’ll be fine, Max, you’ll see.”

Max had stalked out, making an indignant noise when she saw Steve at the door, grabbing her skateboard with a huff, and walking out of the apartment.

“What was that all about?” Steve crept around to the kitchen.

“Ah, nothing. She’s just sixteen,” Billy was leaning over a large pot on the stove. “You know. Sixteen year old girl shit.”

Steve didn’t know. He had no idea, actually.

“How does stew sound? I thought Max was staying, so I made too much,” Billy’s shoulders were tensed close to his body.

“Billy,” Steve sighed, resting a hand on his belly, “Maybe… maybe we should revisit me getting the twin bed for the nursery. Besides, I’m getting up like ten times a night to pee. That can’t be good for your sleep…”

“If that’s what you want,” Billy shrugged, “Taste this, let me know if it needs salt.”

Steve carefully lowered himself down into one of the dining tables and obligingly opened his mouth. Billy brought over the wooden spoon laden with stew, that he blew on carefully before feeding it to Steve.

“‘S fine,” Steve mumbled, though he couldn’t say he’d really tasted it.

Billy really was a great alpha, took care of Steve so much. He was close to ending his apprenticeship at the mechanic’s shop, and he was making good money. He wasn’t blowing it on stuff either. He was responsible, and caring.

And Steve was here, sleeping in his bed, taking up the space that would eventually be taken by Billy’s true omega. It couldn’t have been easy for Billy, it would be hard to find someone to date with a random pregnant guy in his bed, eating all his leftovers.

Billy turned to his stew, dancing a little to the old Chuck Berry song on the radio. He lowered the heat and turned the radio up, spinning around and pulling Steve to his feet.

“Billy, I think-”

Billy wrapped one warm arm around Steve’s waist, taking the other hand in his.

“Just dance, pretty boy.”

It was a little awkward with Steve’s belly between them, but Billy spun him around, laughing a little, like whatever argument he’d had with Max didn’t matter. He pulled Steve close, filling Steve’s senses with his cool salty ocean scent and a hint of cigarettes and motor oil that made him a little dizzy. But it wasn’t the pregnancy. No, Steve couldn’t lie to himself that much.

That night in bed, Steve couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable. Billy’s bed really was heavenly, soft and plush. He’d admitted to Steve once that this was the first thing he splurged on when he moved out on his own with his money from Starcourt. Not only because he needed it for his back, but because his dad had apparently piled all of Billy’s shit on his old mattress and lit it on fire before skipping town.

And that was a part of the problem. What was Steve meant to do with all of the stuff he knew about Billy? All the small things that Steve had stored up, like a squirrel for the winter. It was all instinct, not something he meant to do. But somehow he started to think of Billy as…

Steve rolled over and watched Billy. His mouth was open, tongue lolling out slightly and drool dripping from his mouth down his cheek into his pillow and rumpled curls.

Maybe Billy wasn’t always the kindest of alphas. He was prone to black moods, withdrawing, sulking in the shower or curling up for long naps. His stories about his childhood made the reason evident enough, but still. He was crass, often loud and made more dirty jokes than a retired sailor.

He apparently didn’t know how to portion a meal, though Steve had a sneaking suspicion that he did. He just wanted Steve to be fed. He built a crib for the baby, gave up half of his bed, working his whole life around a child that he didn’t even know, had no ties to.

And there was the knot of the issue. When Steve had a baby here, with Billy around… it would be like… sort of felt like…

Billy snuffled and rolled closer, throwing a hand over the pregnancy pillow. It grazed Steve’s belly softly, and the baby rolled, moving towards Billy’s warmth.

Steve worried himself to sleep, vowing that in the morning they would have to talk, work something out. Because he was pretty sure if he stayed here much longer he was going to fall in love with Billy, and that could only end badly.

Because Billy was… too good for this. Too good for this situation, too good for Steve, who couldn’t even take care of his own pup, and didn’t know how to budget, hardly knew how to cook…

Steve had fully resolved to cut things off and move out in the morning. He needed to stand on his own two feet. He needed to leave before he…

Steve woke up and at first, he thought something was wrong with him. The only thing he had looked forward to while being pregnant was not having his heat. But he woke up cramping, slick between his thighs.

His eyes snapped open, “B-Billy, I think the baby…”

Billy wasn’t there.

Steve carefully got to his feet. These were probably contractions. He was probably just an idiot.

There was light coming from the bathroom. With every step, it hurt a little worse. It really felt like a heat, not like the doctor or all the books had said labor would.

He knocked softly, “Billy.”

“Go away, Harrington.”

Steve frowned. He thought he wasn’t Harrington anymore. It hurt worse than he imagined it would but he tried to push it aside.

“Billy, I think I’m having contractions,” Steve leaned against the door.

Billy groaned beyond the door, “God fucking… of course… I wanted to be there, Steve. I was really excited to see the baby. But you’ll have to get someone else to drive you.”

“Why?”

“I’m having my fucking rut, I s-shouldn’t leave the bathroom.”

Steve leaned against the door, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Billy said softly.

“No, I… that makes more sense actually…”

“What?”

“I thought I was in heat at first. I’m probably just… y’know…”

“Right.” Billy’s voice was clipped off sharply at the end.

“I could…” Steve’s heart rose. Just a little. In any other circumstance he was pretty sure Billy would turn him down but in a rut… maybe…

“Oh, no,” Billy said swiftly. “No, it’s okay. You go back to bed.”

Steve rested his forehead against the door, and Billy whimpered inside.

“Billy,” Steve mumbled.

“Steve,” Billy groaned, “Go back to bed. I might try to leave, take a drive. Clear my head.”

Steve was pretty sure Billy meant he would go to do something else, but it was nice of him to pretend, for Steve’s sake. And he got the picture, really he did.

Steve crawled back into bed, holding his pregnancy pillow close as he listened for Billy to leave. He pretended he wasn’t crying, like Billy pretended that he was just going to take a drive and not to go find another, better omega to spend his rut with. Just like Steve pretended that didn’t hurt, and that he wasn’t already in love.

Later in the morning, Steve woke up alone for the first time in weeks. He got up and made some toast, even though he didn’t feel much like eating it. He didn’t have a shift today which was a shame, he could have really used some distraction.

Instead, he just wandered around the apartment, picking things up and putting them down. Turning the tv on and off. Going through the baby clothes again, the ones that he’d cleaned and folded with Billy. He sat on the edge of Billy’s bed that he’d increasingly started to think of as their bed, and had leftover stew. The baby was kicking like crazy, and without Billy’s low singing to soothe the baby, Steve didn’t know what to do. Even his baby loved Billy more than him.

The whole thing was making him feel rather pathetic, actually. So when Lucas rang the bell at four, Steve couldn’t blame himself for leaping for it.

“Bi- Oh, hey, man,” Steve bit his lip. Of course Billy wouldn’t ring the bell at his own house. He felt like an idiot.

“Hey,” Lucas smiled, holding out a covered dish. “My mom made some extra casserole, she asked me to bring this over on my way to Mike’s.”

Steve blinked at him, “Does everyone in this whole town know I can’t cook?”

“No,” Lucas didn’t lower his hands, “She really made extra. She told me.”

Steve frowned, but eyed up the container. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Cheesy and potato-y, not like the super healthy crap his mom used to make when he lived at home.

“Okay,” Steve took it, “Fine. Thanks.”

“No problem…” Lucas waved, “Well. See you, Steve.”

Steve came back into the kitchen and frowned, staring at the innocent container. Lucas and Billy weren’t the best of friends, but they’d slowly started to make their peace, even hanging out a few times. It was weird of Lucas not to mention Billy, or to just bring enough for one.

His suspicions were confirmed the next day at work.

Robin came back from lunch, her eyes trained on the floor, “Hey, uh, my mom packed too much in my lunch so I left it out back there.”

“What?”

“My mom made me too much,” Robin noded, sort of weirdly. “I left it out for you, if you don’t want to go to the chinese place.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Robin bit her lip, “And my mom made too much.”

“Your mom made too much of the same peanut butter, no jelly sandwich, with one apple that you’ve eaten since you were eight?”

Robin’s eyes danced to the Romance section, “Yeah.”

“Spill it, Buckley.”

“I can’t!” She cried.

“Oh, can’t you,” Steve rolled his eyes, “Come on. What’s the deal?”

She gnawed her lip, “So… Nancy called me last night and asked me, y’know, as a favor, to bring an extra sandwich.”

“Nancy called-” Steve wrinkled his nose.

“Well, I guess… Billy’s been holed up at Susan’s, he asked Max and your little brigade of tiny dorks to keep you fed,” Robin frowned, “So Mike thought he’d ask Nancy who asked me. So it’s not like…. A big deal…”

“Not a big deal,” Steve threw up his hands, “Why doesn’t everyone just take an ad out in the paper. Jesus, I knew Billy thought I was pathetic, but-”

“Billy doesn’t think you’re pathetic, dingus,” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, he does. The other night I even asked him to share his rut with me, because… wait. How would you know what Billy thinks of me?”

Her eyes were still caught mid roll when she froze, cringing.

“What do you know, Buckley,” Steve pressed.

“I mean, I don’t know anything for sure,” She hemmed, sliding around the counter and tugging on her jaunty tie.

“But you know something, don’t you?”

“I don’t know anything,” She sighed, “But… Steve… come on.”

“What?”

“You haven’t spoken to the guy in what, a few years-”

“We waved. Sometimes.”

“And then he comes up out of the woodwork to take you to his small one bedroom apartment,” She smirked, but her eyes got starry. Starry like Doctor Zhivago-y. “And he’s building the crib and taking you to doctor’s appointments, and cooking you food because he knows you can’t cook.”

“I really want to know who told him I can’t cook,” Steve pouted.

“I did,” She took him by the arms, “But the point, Steve, is that he spent his rut locked in a bedroom at his stepmom’s trailer, or did you miss that part?”

Steve twisted a little, ready to deny it.

“And why are you so interested anyway,” Robin smiled. “He’s just free food, right?”

“Billy isn’t just free food,” Steve snapped back.

“Okay. Then what is he?”

“He’s… nice to me. Puts on bad movies and dances with me in the kitchen and drives too fast and…” Steve frowned. “He does stuff for the baby but also there’s other stuff too. It’s like I’m not pregnant or… no… like he’s cool just hanging out with me. And me being pregnant, the baby… that’s all just cool with him. Like he likes… even that part of me.”

Robin nodded, “Yes. And how do you feel about that?”

“I really… I fucking miss him, Robin,” Steve doesn’t immediately recognize the feeling, but the baby kicks like he finally hit the buzzer.

“Yes,” Robin nodded, “Now, when he comes out of rut, I don’t want to hear anything about how you’re a bad omega or some shit. Go get your man.”

Steve intended to. The only thing was it turned out to be slightly harder to get your man when you started to have contractions near the end of your shift. Steve had heard that the first time giving birth there was plenty of time, but that really didn’t seem to be the case. All too soon, it got out of hand. He called and left a message at Susan’s, hoping maybe Billy might be able to hear it if he wasn’t banging some other omega across the mattress. And Robin insisted that she could drive him with her learner’s permit, but the drive to the hospital had also taken about two decades off of his life.

It shouldn’t matter that Billy wasn’t there. He wasn’t really the baby’s dad. Robin was there, helping him fill out the forms. And the contractions weren’t really that bad, except for sometimes when they were. Steve gripped the plasticky waiting room chair, trying to breathe through the pain while Robin hurried through the questions.

When he finally got in a room it turned out his regular doctor, who had been seeing him for months, was off for the day after a marathon cesarean surgery. And would Steve mind if they call another doctor in?

He minded. He minded quite a bit but he was terrified to say it, so he just shut up and got on the bed when they told him. Robin was out of her mind a little, but she was holding his hand and telling him to breathe through it.

“You can go, I got this,” Steve told her.

“As if,” Robin sniffed, “This is best friend privilege. I’m overruling you.”

“Rob-”

“Motion carried,” A voice cut in.

They both turned towards the door. Billy was sweating like he’d run there from the trailer, but it was probably just his rut. He sagged against the door.

“You came,” Steve breathed.

“Best friend privilege. Gets you out of all sorts of tight jams,” Billy smiled, “Also I called the Doc before I drove in. She’s gonna hook me up with some rut calming injections.”

“You called her? B-but she’s supposed to be off until Monday-”

“Funny, she didn’t mention that,” Billy shrugged, “Now, how are you doing, pretty boy?”

Steve’s eyes did not have permission to fill with tears but they did anyway.

“Pretty boy?”

“Steve?” Robin whispered, “Is it… is something wrong?”

“No, I-” Steve swiped at his eyes and immediately broke into a sob.

“Oh,” Robin looked between them, “Let me give you all a moment alone.”

Billy was still hanging onto the door when Robin dashed out, “What’s wrong? Steve?”

“I didn’t have time to plan,” Steve tried to still his voice but there was still more than a little bit of a wail at the end.

“Plan what? Are you missing something? Your hospital bag, I can drive out right fucking now and get-”

“No. Billy, why did you ask me to move in?”

Billy blinked, “To help you out. Steve, I don’t understand, what do you need to plan?”

“How to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

It took Steve a moment to be able to suck in a breath and look up. Billy was staggering towards the bed, his scent heavy with rut, his mouth open. It reminded Steve a little of how Billy looked when he slept, his mouth open, cheeks soft and pink.

“What?”

“I know that’s… God, probably the last thing you wanted when you offered to let me stay,” Steve whispered, “But, Billy, I-”

“It’s all I could hope for,” Billy was leaning on the edge of the bed, his eyes wide with shock.

“What?”

“Everyone told me it was crazy. I mean it was crazy, because there was every chance you’d hate me, loathe living with me-” Billy broke off, shaking his head a little. “But I’ve been hopelessly in love with you, Steve. For years. Tried to deny it, lie about it…”

“Billy,” Steve whispered, “Why did you ask me to move in?”

“You needed help and I’m… I’m in love with you. I had to offer. When you love someone you offer to help them.”

“And you don’t care? About the baby?”

“What about the baby?”

“That it’s not yours.”

“It’s not mine?” Billy gasped incredulously, and then his face split into a grin. “No. I don’t care about that.”

“You really-”

“Love you. Yes, I do Steve. And you-”

“Love you,” Steve broke off with a gasp, grabbing out and holding onto the guard rail on his bed with white knuckles, “Shit.”

Billy reached out and took his hand, “Sorry, sweetheart. Worst timing ever.”

“Just,” Steve gritted out between his teeth, “When this is all over, kiss me?”

“When this is all over, you’ll have a baby, and the kiss of your life,” Billy held Steve’s hand tightly to his chest. “Promise.”

And just a few hours later, with baby Ben in a tiny bassinet next to the bed and Robin asleep in the visitors chair, Billy curled around Steve on the tiny hospital bed, and after wiping the happy tears from Steve’s eyes with his thumbs, Billy did just that.

Billy’s lips were soft and when he pulled back, pressing small kisses to the corner of Steve’s mouth, the whimper he made was soft too.

“You’re amazing,” Billy whispered, “That was… incredible.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes squeezed out a few tears, “I feel pretty incredible.”

“Good,” Billy rubbed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks.

“You’re really okay with…” Steve sucked in a breath when Billy’s breath ghosted over his lips again. “All of this?”

“All of this is all I want,” Billy kissed him, slipping his tongue inside and just stroking softly at the sensitive inside of Steve’s lips.

“How are Oma and Papa,” A nurse breezed in, clipboard in hand.

“I-”

“We’re good,” Steve interrupted. “Feeling pretty incredible, actually.”

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