Yusuf has taken the crib outside for the finishing touches. He noticed the smell of fresh paint had been bothering Nicolò, even though the omega never voiced any complaints.
He means to finish it today in any case, so he works through the afternoon, making the most of the winter sun. He had picked a golden copper paint, a hue close to Nicolò’s fine hair. Yusuf knows their pup will most likely inherit his own dark colouring, but one’s allowed to hope.
He has designed and carved the crib himself, a task that required much more wood than the stack of planks he had initially acquired. All the years Yusuf had spent on top of a ship had prepared him for many types of crafting works, but apparently not this one.
They had moved into the cottage at the edge of the village weeks before Nicolò’s morning sickness had finally settled, and the pinkness returned to his cheeks. Still, it took them another whole month before they paid a call to the local midwife, for Nicolò had refused to acknowledge even to his own mate that they had been blessed.
Yusuf had waited patiently for the confirmation, though he already could tell just by the way the omega’s scent had slowly changed, his usual notes of sweet basil and lavender becoming tinged with lemongrass and peppermint.
The midwife visits often now, and every week Nicolò grows larger and a little less steady on his feet. So large that, in fact, for a short while the midwife had considered whether Nicolò could be carrying twins, and once she had made sure he wasn't, she then began to wonder if he hadn’t got his dates wrong. After all, they were at sea when his heat broke, but Yusuf conferred with the ship’s log before Andy left them in Valletta, so he’s certain they still have one month ahead of them. At least if things progress as they should.
Yusuf knows that the last month is very important for both Nicolò and the baby, so today, after lunch, he has pleaded with his omega to rest and put his swollen feet up. Nicolò had mumbled something about the herb garden and the chickens, and then the stew, but the pregnancy was surely taking its toll, because in the end, the omega accepted the tea Yusuf offered to brew, and he curled up in his nest with this book he had been meaning to finish for weeks...
The sun is setting when Yusuf secures the crib so it can properly dry out. He changes his robes and washes himself to make sure the smell of paint is cleaned away before he goes inside. In the kitchen, he stokes the fire and checks if everything is in place. Only then, he follows the sound of light snoring back to their bedchamber.
Yusuf stops at the threshold, taking in the view of his omega’s nest, ignoring the way his chest tightens at the sight of the neglected book open over Nicolò’s huge belly, one of his arms draped on his face to block the fading sunlight coming from the window.
Yusuf vaguely wonders how far along his beloved got in his reading before he succumbed to exhaustion, and he cannot help but feel a pang of guilt. He considers letting Nicolò sleep through the evening, but in that position, he knows his back and neck will pay the price. Besides, the omega should eat and drink something – it has been hours since lunch.
Yusuf rescues the book first, so it doesn't get lost between the heap of blankets and pillows. He puts it aside and permits himself to gaze upon Nicolò’s sleeping form for a moment. He treasures every chance he gets to do so. They have been kept apart for so long, and there’s this hollow ache underneath his skin he’s not quite able to fill yet, even after all these months. Nicolò’s scent and presence help to soothe it a little, though.
Too soon, he breaks the silence, reaches over and brushes Nicolò’s face with his knuckles. He smiles as the omega’s eyelids flutter open.
“Good evening,” Yusuf greets. “Saghiri.”
Nicolò blinks and lets out a snort before proceeding to palm his belly as if making sure everything is as it should be.
“Hm, there’s nothing little about me anymore,” he says, voice thick with sleep.
Yusuf places a hand over his chest. “You will always be the perfect size to fit inside my heart,” he leans forward, pressing their foreheads together and inhaling the omega’s rich scent. “Both of you.”
Nicolò blushes and shifts so he can plant a kiss on Yusuf’s lips, but before Yusuf decides to reciprocate and deepen his touch, Nicolò pulls away.
He watches as the omega starts to rub his belly, wincing visibly. “Getting too cramped in there?” Yusuf asks, trying to let his worries bleed into his voice.
“Pup is getting restless,” Nicolò says, barely concealing a yawn. “Also, they are not used to me lying on my back all day...”
Yusuf means to argue, but decides on a different approach. “What about a story?” he offers, relieved when the omega’s face lights up. “I could tell you two about the day I got the name Al-Tayyib.”
Nicolò accepts his help to rearrange the nest so they can lie comfortably on their sides, his curved back pressed against his alpha's chest. As Yusuf settles, he tries not to breathe in too deeply, but cannot help placing a kiss on Nicolò’s bonding mark, then nuzzling the back of his neck.
“Yusuf-” Nicolò shivers, the fire in his voice too familiar and alluring, and Yusuf apologises by placing a hand protectively over the omega’s taut stomach.
He gathers his thoughts, the memories coming back rushing as the words roll out of his tongue. With Nicolò and their little promise safe in his arms, Yusuf smells the sea salt in the air and feels perfectly content.
“We were two days South of Crete, and Andy thought she saw this huge-”
i wrote this a couple of weeks ago as a gift to my dear @pochiperpe90 and it's intended as an epilogue of sorts to our comics!joenicky pirate au omegaverse, which, as much as my other wips, isn't abandoned and i will come back to it someday