38. Gen
Chapter 38
Gen
T he waiting room at Dr. Halston’s office hasn’t changed.
It still has the same muted paint colors. There’s still a stack of outdated parenting magazines on the table. Even the polite, tired receptionist behind the counter who barely glances up when we walk in is the same.
But everything feels different.
Because for the first time, we’re doing this together. All three of them may have been at my last ultrasound, but we weren’t a united front. This time? We are.
We must make a scene, the four of us sweeping through the quiet waiting room, but for once, I don’t care.
They’re here with me.
The nurse calls my name, and I rise on autopilot, smoothing a hand down the front of my dress. I glance back, half-expecting them to stay behind, but Max and Silas are already moving. Sebastian catches my eye, his mouth tightening, and then he follows, too.
I climb onto the exam table with a kind of mechanical efficiency, hiking my dress up over my thighs and baring the gentle curve of my stomach. It’s strange—seeing my body change this way. Strange, and a little terrifying. I don't feel ready. I doubt I ever will.
But when Max threads his fingers through mine and squeezes, something inside me eases.
The doctor enters with a warm smile, rolling the machine closer.
"This might feel a little cold," she warns before squirting the gel onto my skin.
I brace for it, but still flinch slightly when the wand touches down. Max strokes his thumb over my knuckles. Silas’s hand finds my ankle, squeezing gently. Sebastian doesn’t touch me, but I can feel his gaze like a physical weight on my skin.
The monitor flickers to life.
And there, in grainy black and white, is our baby.
Moving. Squirming. Kicking tiny legs.
The room falls away.
Max’s hand tightens almost painfully around mine. When I turn my head toward Sebastian, I catch him in a rare moment of complete vulnerability—his mouth parted, his eyes suspiciously glassy.
He wipes at them a second later, turning it into a cough, but it’s too late.
I saw.
I felt it.
The doctor points out the arms, the legs, the little fluttering heart that beats strong and steady. I barely hear her words over the rush of my own blood in my ears.
This tiny life growing inside me isn’t theoretical anymore. It’s not just appointments and nausea and lists scribbled in my planner.
It’s a baby. Our baby.
I swallow hard against the lump in my throat.
Sebastian edges closer, one hand resting lightly on the exam table, the other clenching and unclenching at his side like he doesn’t know where to put it. Silas leans in, brushing a kiss against my knee, murmuring something soft I can’t quite catch.
The technician finishes her measurements, prints out a series of photos that will go right on the fridge when we get home. She hands them over with a warm smile, before stepping out to give us privacy.
For a long moment, none of us move.
Then Silas rises and presses a kiss to my temple, whispering, "Let’s get you home, G."
Home.
The word rings in my ears.
* * *
Dinner is simple. Comfort food. Max insists on it, stopping to pick up a few things on the way home, even though Silas grumbles that he could’ve just cooked. I sit at the kitchen island, watching them move around each other with an ease that says everything words can't. Sebastian opens a bottle of nonalcoholic sparkling cider, pouring a glass for me.
There’s no formal toast. No big speech. Just a clink of glasses, a few gruff words of congratulations, and the kind of thick, golden silence that means more than any words.
It’s silly, really. We already knew about the baby, there’s nothing to celebrate. But it feels like a monumental moment all the same. Our baby was moving. We’re moving forward, together. This is worth celebrating.
“We need to make a big list of all the things we need when the baby comes,” Silas says with a big grin.
“We’ve got awhile though,” I interject. “But, yeah, there are so many things babies need. A list would be good. I can start picking things out.”
Silas takes a sip of his cider. “I want to help, G. I’ve always wanted to be a dad and have one of those front baby carriers. Think we could get on of those?”
I giggle thinking of Silas with a baby carrier or, even funnier, a baby sling strapped on the front of his huge chest.
“I want to have the whole place baby-proofed before he or she arrives,” Max adds.
“That probably doesn’t have to happen right away, but I love that you’re thinking about it already,” I say, feeling a warmth in my chest.
By the time we finish dinner and settle into the living room, the weight of the day starts pressing down on me. I curl my legs underneath myself on the oversized sectional.
Silas flops down beside me with a grunt, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. Max sits on my other side, pulling my legs across his lap, his hand resting absently on my shin. Sebastian lingers a moment longer before taking the armchair across from us.
It’s so much. All at once.
I blink back tears, heart hammering.
I need to say it.
Before I lose my nerve.
"I love you," I say, my voice catching in my throat. I clear it and try again, stronger this time. "All of you."
Silas leans in first, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Love you too, G."
Max's thumb brushes the inside of my ankle, deliberate and slow. "More than you could ever know."
Sebastian rises without a word, crossing the short distance to the couch. He kneels in front of me, resting his hands lightly on my knees, looking up at me like I’m the only thing tethering him to earth.
"You have me," he says, his voice rough. "Every fucking part of me."
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back. There’s no sadness here. Just overwhelming gratitude. Relief. Love.
So much love, I don’t know what to do with it.
Silas shifts behind me, his hands slipping beneath the hem of my oversized sweater, thumbs stroking bare skin with a tenderness that steals my breath. Max leans closer too, brushing his mouth along my jaw, featherlight kisses that leave a trail of heat in their wake.
Sebastian doesn’t move until I thread my fingers through his hair, giving him silent permission. Only then does he rise, pressing his mouth to mine in a kiss that’s slow and claiming.
The moment fractures—splinters into something hungrier.
Max slides the sweater up and over my head, baring me to their hungry gazes. His hands are sure but careful, treating me like I might shatter if he’s not gentle. Silas kisses down the curve of my neck.
Sebastian hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my leggings and drags them down, slow enough to feel like torture. Max helps, peeling the fabric away until I’m naked before them, flushed and panting, nerves singing.
Silas lifts me effortlessly, carrying me toward the bedroom with Max and Sebastian right behind us.
Once inside, they don't waste time.
Max kisses me first, coaxing my mouth open, tongue stroking against mine until I’m dizzy from it. Silas’s hands roam over my body, mapping every inch, memorizing every shiver. Sebastian stands back for a beat, watching, cataloging every reaction.
And then he steps in.
He presses a kiss to my belly first, before rising to claim my mouth again.
Clothes fall away fast after that.
Silas pushes me gently back onto the bed, Max stretching out beside me, his hand sliding between my thighs to find the slickness already there. He groans low in his throat as he strokes me, building the pressure with maddening patience.
Sebastian kisses down my body, teeth scraping lightly across sensitive skin until I’m squirming beneath them, desperate for more.
Silas palms my breast, thumb flicking over my nipple until I arch into him with a whimper. Max works two fingers inside me, while Sebastian licks a line up the inside of my thigh, teeth grazing the tender flesh.
I want more.
I writhe between them, lost to the sensations, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.
Sebastian’s mouth finds my clit at the same moment Max curls his fingers just right and Silas kisses my neck.
I shatter, body locking up, pleasure ripping through me so violently I forget how to breathe, forget how to think.
They don't stop.
Sebastian has his cock in his hand, pumping it, before he enters me, the stretch making me cry out. He moves slowly at first, giving me time to adjust, but it’s not long before Silas is there too, his hand guiding mine to his cock, helping me wrap my fingers around him.
Max kisses me hard, open-mouthed and hungry, as Sebastian thrusts into me, hitting a spot that has me sobbing his name. Silas growls when I stroke him, hips jerking into my hand.
They take turns.
They take care.
By the time Sebastian slides into me a second time, his thrusts deep and punishing, I’m boneless, wrung out, floating.
He holds me down, forcing me to take every brutal inch, murmuring filth against my ear—how tight I am, how well I take him, how I’m theirs now, always.
Max and Silas stroke my hair, kiss my shoulders, anchor me even as Sebastian fucks me apart.
I come again, harder this time, splintering around him, dragging him down with me.
He groans against my throat, thrusting once, twice, and then coming inside me.
I collapse into the mattress, trembling, wrecked, loved.
Silas gathers me up first, pulling me into his chest, while Max settles behind me, pressing kisses into the back of my neck. Sebastian stays close, his hand finding mine, threading our fingers together.
I drift off to sleep surrounded by them.