STORY: First floor (Patreon)

Disclaimer: All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. This content is intended for mature audiences only. By proceeding, you acknowledge that you are legally permitted to view explicit material in your jurisdiction and understand that this work contains adult themes.

WORD COUNT: 7k words

SUMMARY: Aiden and Bobby had the whole birth plan, well, planned out. It involved expensive birthing tubs, the city's best hospital, and all the ordeal that was going to look good on Aiden's Instagram afterwards. Except that nothing goes as planned when they get stuck in the elevator of Aiden's apartment building as they’re leaving for the hospital.

TAGS: mpreg, birth kink, clothing birth, birth denial, nsfw, +18 content

A/N: Hey there! Since the poll ended up being 50/50, I decided to go with a personal preference and post the mpreg story first lmao. Remember, this is a terribly inaccurate description of how elevators and medical emergencies on them work! Hope you enjoy and feedback is very welcome!

11:45​

The only sound filling the room was the patterned sounds of Aiden’s breathing.

Breathe in, hold, and exhale. Some technique to ensure the most relaxation, playing along with the squeaky sounds of the birthing ball every time Aiden rotated his hips and pressed his body weight down, bouncing on it. The TV was frozen in the middle of the episode of a show he had started watching, only to find himself pressing the pause button every time a contraction would hit him.

It had been on pause for quite a while. The contractions were manageable at first, just a deep breath to get through the uncomfortable sensation of his stomach tensing under the palm of his hands. And then it wasn’t, and Aiden found himself breathing through contractions that were coming a bit too fast for his liking, a bit too strong. At least his water hadn’t broken yet, which was good. ​

When the last contraction passed, Aiden slowly straightened himself up and reached for his phone. He opened the chat with Bobby, only to see the exact same message from half an hour ago.

Coming.

The pregnant man rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but Aiden guessed that for Bobby to not have his phone on silent mode the day he went into labor was something. Almost two hours ago, he had texted Bobby about the sporadic contractions. Then again, when he was sure it was the real deal, when the contractions actually became contractions, not just Braxton Hicks or a false alarm. Just a courtesy to let his baby daddy know what the fuck was going on with his baby. Right before the contractions became more of a 'we should actually go to the hospital' type of deal, Aiden sent another text message.

Knowing Bobby, a white lie would do no harm. Lying to him about how often his contractions were coming would ensure that at least Bobby would be actually on time. The man had a taste for being fucking late and being fucking stupid.

Aiden bounced on the birthing ball, hips rocking slowly in a rhythmic motion, back and forth, one hand pressing on his lower back and the other against his underbelly. 

Another contraction took over him. Aiden's face turned into a scowl, letting out an involuntary sound as he leaned forward, one hand pressing against the tense side of his stomach.  He rubbed, trying to ease the pressure. 

Three dots appeared on the screen as Bobby typed.

Then, a message: I’ll be there in 5.

Cool. That meant Aiden had at least ten minutes to get ready.

As the muscles of his abdomen relaxed, Aiden let out a breath, both hands moving to rub the sides of his stomach, fingers tracing circles over the fabric. He threw his head back at the same time his hips rocked in circular motions on the birthing ball.​

Everything was fine. It was just fine. Bobby would come, they would go to the hospital, and they would have this baby. Just like planned. Well, just like Aiden had planned and then told Bobby exactly what was going to happen and when.

The plan was simple: a ten-minute drive to the hospital from Aiden’s place, the midwife would meet them there, and they would use all the stupid things in the birthing suite they insisted on paying for —the tub, that one rope you could hang from, the birthing chair, all the bullshit.

Aiden rocked his hips back, thumbs digging against his lower back, stroking. He let out a groan as he stood up. He held onto the TV stand for stability, fingers pressing against the faux wood as he straightened himself up.

​He was a strong man. He was a big man. Strong enough that he had managed to get this far into a pregnancy that had turned him into a huge, swollen mess and still being able to do almost everything by himself. But still, every day he could feel the way his body would strain under everything: the ache in his hips, the pain in his lower back, the constant pressure of a baby weighing him down. The doctor said he wouldn’t carry big, but sure as hell it felt like there was a damn bowling ball settling on his hips. He looked —he felt— ready to pop the moment he hit the eight-month mark.

It was not easy to have to constantly sleep only on your side —when you could sleep— and to constantly have a baby kicking your vital organs. To not be able to sit comfortably with the huge head of a baby deeply lodged in your pelvis, barely able to sit down without having to spread your legs wide open to make space to accommodate the swell of a gravid stomach.

And in the last week, it felt like it was all just too much. Aiden was grateful that he was finally going to push this baby out. He turned off the TV and made his way to his bedroom. God, he felt so… pregnant. Each one of his steps was slow and steady, one of his hands braced against the wall and the other securely on his lower stomach as he waddled around the apartment.

The hospital bag was ready, neatly waiting on his bed. The bed creaked under his weight as Aiden lowered himself onto the mattress, and as soon as he touched the bed, a contraction took over him.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back, a low groan escaping his throat. One of his hands found the base of his stomach, rubbing firm circles on the muscle beneath, trying to ease the tension; his other hand kneaded against his lower back, massaging the aching muscles.

“Oh, ugh. God…”  Aiden groaned, eyebrows furrowing together. “Ah- ugh, that's so tight.”

The pain went away just as the doorbell rang.​ Bobby was here. It felt like an eternity since Aiden got Bobby’s last text, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

Aidan swayed back, then leaned forward with a grunt —one, two, three, and he managed to stand up from the bed, one hand cradling his stomach and the other holding the bedside table.

He grabbed the hospital bag before turning around to walk out of the bedroom. 

Something settled at the base of his stomach, crawling up his back. A small wave of anxiety rippled through his body, making the skin of his stomach crawl, making his insides twist. For a second, it felt like everything was falling into place —the hospital bag hanging from his shoulder, the ache of his muscles, the sudden urge to leave, Bobby waiting on the other side of his door— to let the realization that he was just a few hours away from becoming a dad hit him. Just a few more hours, and he would finally have his baby in his arms. A few more hours and he was no longer going to be pregnant. 

Aiden turned off the TV on his way out. 

12:00

It was an awkward walk towards the elevator. Not exactly tense, just as awkward as it could get when you put yourself and your ex in the same confined hallway. 

Bobby had said his girlfriend was waiting for him in the car and that he would have to drop her off somewhere before they went to the hospital.  Great. They didn’t even start and the plan had already been altered. Just great.

Alright. He could take one stop on the way to the hospital. He couldn’t lose it over such a small detail. 

Aiden stood in front of the closed doors, eyes fixated on the numbers as they slowly turned bright orange, ticking past each floor. Finally, Aiden saw his floor number and then, the quiet hum of the doors opening.

Bobby stepped in first. Aiden followed suit behind him, waddling into the confined space, pressing floor number one in the elevator panel. The floor wobbled for a moment beneath his feet, the doors closed, and the quiet buzz of the elevator moving filled in the silence. 

The elevator shifted again as it started to go down. Aiden’s hands moved over his stomach, fingers brushing the tense surface over his shirt. Aiden forced himself to relax, to straighten himself, to take a deep breath and rub his stomach, easing the tension in the muscles of his abdomen.

Aiden stared at the display above the button panel, watching as the elevator made it to the fifth floor. The only sound cutting the typical awkwardness of the ride was the faint sound of the faint melody of a crappy song coming from a speaker somewhere above them and the mechanical hum of the elevator moving. 

Bobby hummed next to him, the hospital bag hanging from his shoulder. Another number lit up. Fourth floor.

It was a surprise that no one in the building seemed to be in the usual rush to use the elevator. Just the idea of having to share the cramped space with someone else made Aiden sigh. He wasn’t in the mood for going through the nightmare fuel of being stuck with people in this claustrophobic space: if there was something Aiden hated more than crowded elevators, it was a crowded elevator full of his neighbors.

Third floor. Aiden breathed, looking up at the polished surface of the ceiling. His thumb brushed over the curve of his stomach, the palm of his hand pressing against his hips.

The floor shifted beneath them. Literally. It was a split second where the world became unstable, his hands flying to press against the wall behind him to keep his balance as his face twisted, skin crawling at the screeching sound. There was a brief moment where he swallowed, confusion moving past his throat as he tried to make sense of what was happening: the bloody thing, the one that was not supposed to fail, the amazing invention of modern engineering, had failed.

The number panel that indicated which floor the elevator was on turned red. All the numbers were illuminated in bright red everywhere, from the basement to the rooftop. Not orange. Red. Aiden frowned. There was no more of that sticky, annoying music drilling into his eardrums, there was no more the awkward buzz of the engine working in the background. 

Just silence. Stillness. Aiden wasn’t a damn engineer, but he was sure that it was not supposed to be quiet inside one of these things. Or still. 

“Shit,” Bobby cursed under his breath, moving toward the panel. He pressed a button. Then another, as if that could fix anything. “I think we’re stuck.”

Brilliant observation. Aiden straightened himself once he no longer felt like he was about to fall, and the first thing he did was, indeed, curse too. Shit. This couldn’t be happening. He watched as Bobby pressed the buttons, all of them at the same time, each one individually, like a child trying to make a broken toy work. 

Nothing happened. 

“Try the open door buttons,” Aiden said.

Bobby did as told. Nothing happened. 

Aiden swallowed. 

“Hold on,” Bobby muttered, finger hovering over the alarm button before pressing it. Nothing happened. “Ok. I think we’ll have to wait.”

Oh, just great. Aiden brushed a hand over his face. Now they were stuck on a stupid elevator. 

Aiden took a step forward toward the panel. The logical side of his brain told him that he just saw Bobby do the exact same thing and that he saw exactly what was going to happen. The emotional side hit the buttons, calm at first, then with a bit more urgency as he got the exact reaction that Bobby: nothing happened. The buttons sank, but they didn’t light up. 

“Shit, what are we gonna do?” Aiden breathed.  

“Hey, calm down,” Bobby said, “Just take it easy. I’m sure it’ll be back working in a moment.”

The way the words slipped out of Bobby’s mouth, so…stupid, so unaware, made Aiden taste exasperation right at the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t sure what exactly was making him fucking mad and wanting to throw up at the same time, if it was the sudden feeling of claustrophobia crawling up his back, the abrupt wave of heat crashing over body, —suddenly even his shirt felt tight against his skin— Bobby’s cheap perfume suddenly filling the little air in the room, or just the way Bobby’s face looked right now. 

The logical side of his mind was very aware that he was overreacting, but the hormonal side of him didn’t make it that easy to not just lose it. God, he was having a moment. 

He felt like a kid just a minute away from throwing a tantrum. And he would have had a little crisis right there if he hadn't been stopped by a sharp pain shooting through his stomach. Aiden sucked in a breath, one of his hands reaching to hold himself from the cold wall, the other moving to rest on the side of his contracting stomach. For a moment, he totally forgot about the fact that he was, indeed, still in labor. 

“Oh, fuck.” Aiden hissed, eyes closing, focusing on breathing slow and steady. “I’m having a contraction right now. God.”

Bobby cleared his throat, looking at Aiden, and Aiden thought he was going to walk over —close the minimal distance of a few steps between one side of the elevator and the other, but he didn’t do it. Instead,

“Alright. Just breathe. Don’t stress.”

Right. Easier said than done.

It was just a split second he forgot about the obvious fact that he was in labor, a second where his brain short-circuited, but now Aiden was hit with the horrifying realization he was, indeed, here and trapped. And in labor. 

Fuck. He had never been claustrophobic —the idea was just ridiculous. He knew that there was really no danger in just being stuck here, that one of the greatest inventions of modern engineering was designed not to fail. He was sure he had read somewhere that more people died outside elevators than inside them. These things were made by people who studied for years and went through rigorous processes to guarantee they weren't going to fail. Hundreds of people probably get stuck in elevators every day, and nothing bad happens to them.

Surely this had to be a common occurrence. How long could it take them to fix it? Ten minutes? Fifteen at max? 

Aiden’s jaw clenched, exhaling through his mouth. The muscles of his stomach finally relaxed, but he couldn’t shake the bitter feeling, the claustrophobic tension that had taken over his body. He checked the time on his phone —couldn’t ignore the zero signal bars— and swallowed. 

“It’s fine,” Bobby repeated. “It’ll just take a few minutes. This happens all the time at my building.”

Aiden bit the inside of his cheek. He could wait a few minutes. It was gonna be just fine. 

12:10

The floor display now showed ERROR. 

His brain also displayed an awful, bright red message of error, bright neon letters bouncing against the walls of his skull. Aiden's internal clock had failed. It had to, because these had to be the longest ten minutes of his whole life. He could look at his phone and see that it had just been ten minutes, but his body felt as if it had been an hour.

They should have already been in the car. These ten minutes were more than enough for them to have already been on the road, driving to the hospital. Aiden did calculate the right amount of time he was going to need for Bobby to get here and everything else, but he just failed to take into consideration all… this.

Ten minutes and still there was only radio silence coming from the speaker of the elevator, all the numbers on the panel were still frozen. Bobby would go and press the buttons from time to time, as if expecting it to have fixed itself out of nowhere, staring almost dumbfounded when nothing happened. God, there was a reason why they’d broken up. 

By this very exact moment, they were supposed to be just about three streets away from the hospital. Five with bad traffic. But they weren’t. And Aiden could feel the weight of the baby settling low on his pelvis, trying to ignore the feeling that it was moving down lower each minute. 

He had to be imagining it. Just his mind playing tricks on him. It wasn’t supposed to be happening so fast, labor was supposed to last hours. So yeah, even when he was here, inside four metallic walls, he still had time. Aiden was sure they were going to be out in a matter of minutes. 

God, his feet hurt.

His feet were on fire. His lower back was turning rock hard, cramping as his body was burdened with the strain of having to just stand upright for so long, his hand pressing against his underbelly, trying to help ease the weight pulling down on him. He was way too pregnant for this. 

And there was just so much pressure everywhere. On his joints, on his back, on his neck. The baby had been in position for a few days now, spreading a constant dull ache on the bones of his pelvis, on his hips. He had done a marvelous job of being able to just ignore it, he could pretend it wasn’t there the past few days. He could force himself not to waddle when walking, to stand straight, chest up, and shoulders back without needing to bend slightly forward to keep his balance.

But now. Now Aiden could feel the head moving lower, down, deeper. Not like before. Not like the annoying way. This was uncomfortable and almost painful and he couldn’t just pretend it wasn’t happening, couldn’t ignore the feeling of having something huge moving down his birth canal.

He hadn’t timed his last contraction. He didn’t feel like he needed to, of course. They were supposed to get out in what, ten minutes? And now…

“Bobby.” Aiden said, brushing a hand over his face, “Press the call button again.”

“It doesn’t work.”

“Just press the damn button-”

Aiden knew nothing would probably happen, but he needed at least a resemblance of consolation that at least someone was aware they were in there. Bobby pressed the damn button. Silence. Nothing happened. 

“Shit.”

Then, the button lit up. There was a spurt of static, and then a robotic voice broke through the silence of the cramped space. 

“Hello? Hello?” Bobby rushed, lowering himself towards the speaker. “Hey, dude. So, we’re trapped. The thing is not working. There is a pregnant person in here-”

“Yes, sir. There has been a failure in the system,” the voice came somewhere far away. “The technicians are trying to solve it as quickly as possible. Please remain calm.”

“Tell them to hurry up,” Aiden hissed. 

“Can they hurry up?” Bobby asked into the speaker. 

There was a small beep. Then static. Then silence again.

“Hello?” Bobby repeated. “Hello? Ok, well. Damn.”

Bobby remained hunched over the speaker for a moment, staring at it, pressing the call button a few times before he straightened himself up and shrugged. He had that stupid face, the one that screamed out loud he was over the situation, and that meant that he believed there was absolutely nothing else he could do. Aiden knew that face well. The just sit and wait and see if the thing fixes itself face.

The rational part of his brain knew that there was not much else to do, but there was just something about Bobby’s face as he just… stood there that made him furious. Irrationally, probably hormonally furious. 

Of course, it was easy for him to say just wait when he wasn't the one with a nine-pound baby pushing down on him, and he was not the one whose stomach was tensing as—

“Are you having a contraction?” Bobby asked, looking at Aiden. “Now?”

“Yes, Bobby. I’m having a contraction,” Aiden breathed. “Fucking now.”

Aiden hissed, pressing his open palm to the rock-hard surface of his contracting stomach. 

“Are you timing them?” Bobby asked. 

“No, I just-” Aiden exhaled, “Not timing. I was not thinking we’d be stuck here for an hour.”

The pain continued expanding, from the tension in his middle to the sharp feeling in his lower back, it felt as if a hundred needles were piercing each one of his muscles, pain shooting through his bones. 

“Don’t say stuck,” Bobby interrupted, “If you think you’re stuck, you’re stuck. We’re just… delayed.”

Delayed. Amazing choice of words. If his whole focus hadn’t been on breathing through the excruciating pain taking over his body, in and out, just like everyone had advised him, Aiden would have probably cussed Bobby out.

But right now, any kind of insult was long-lost on the back of his mind because there was only one thought filling his mind, and it was an almost desperate plea Aiden was mentally repeating. He did not want to give birth inside a stupid elevator. The last thing he wanted was to give birth in this elevator. 

Maybe the stagnant air or the heat or the veiled claustrophobia were making him a bit dramatic, but God, he wanted to get out.

12:30

The speaker echoed with a few more noises, teasing them with the hope of breaking the static and the silence with a sudden announcement of freedom, but nothing of that happened. Every time the speaker creaked or the lights of the panels flickered, it was just to end up in nothing.  

Aiden never wanted to hear anything as much as he wanted to hear the sudden buzzing of the power scrambling through the air as the elevator started to move again, to feel the floor shaking beneath his feet. 

But that didn’t happen. They were still stuck. And Aiden’s contractions were still coming, painful and steady.

He tried to relax, like Bobby insisted. Something obvious about the stress not being any good to him or the baby. Aiden relaxed, loosened his muscles, relaxed his jaw, controlled the speed of his breathing. Not too fast, not too slow. He tried all the breathing techniques he could remember, anything that could help him ignore the feeling of the baby’s head moving lower in his birth canal.  

Breaking news: he just couldn’t. Aiden was painfully aware of the pressure that only got worse and worse on his pelvis, of the weight of the baby slowly but surely moving lower, moving closer and closer to his hole, stretching him open. He wished he could have the privilege of panicking, to lose his mind because all of this was happening too fast, too soon, and everywhere he looked around, he would see his own pale face reflecting on the mirrored walls collapsing on him. 

But Aiden couldn't allow himself that. Bobby was right —and there was nothing Aiden hated more than to admit when Bobby was right— the last thing they needed right now was to have him panicking, losing his mind in the claustrophobic square meter of the elevator.

His contractions were coming fast, sharp and relentless. A violent pulse taking over his gravid stomach, over the muscles of his abdomen, and it was getting harder to try and cuss his way out of the contractions. Aiden leaned forward, his hands moving up to press against the cold wall as he rested his forehead against the cold surface of the wall. There was a momentary relief at the coldness, but it was quickly replaced by a moan when his stomach tensed. Another contraction.

“Ugh…ow, nhgn…” Aiden breathed, eyes closing, pressing his forehead harder against the wall. “Fuck, fuck, there's another one. Another contraction.”

His legs trembled beneath his weight, knees almost giving up as Aiden lowered himself, legs giving into a half squat. He was desperately trying to keep his breath even, controlled, but when the contraction reached its peak, all Aiden could do was let out a whimper as his face turned into a grimace, hands fisting. 

“Ughn, it’s so low,” Aiden groaned, letting out a breath as he cupped his stomach with one hand, “Shit, this is too much. It hurts so bad.”

He couldn't focus on anything but the pain and the feeling of the pressure of the baby’s head stretching him open, moving closer to his hole. 

Bobby stared at him. He saw the way his face was turning red from the effort, the slight shaking of his thighs, the tense swell of his stomach pressing uncomfortably against the shirt fabric. The man looked ready to push that baby out any second. 

The contraction went away. Slowly, Aiden straightened himself again, hands moving to peel the stuck fabric of his shirt from the sweaty skin of his stomach, the feeling too much to bear.

Bobby swallowed and turned back to the speaker, pressing the call button again. Static. Then silence.

12:45

“Bobby.”

Aiden’s voice came out as a strained, low groan escaping reluctantly from the back of his throat. A plea breaking the tense silence they were in. Bobby turned to look at him.

Aiden was leaning against the wall, shoulder pressed to it, head resting against the cold surface. One of his hands was cradling his stomach, fingers gripping at the fabric of his shirt on his underbelly, trying to lift the weight of the gravid sphere, as if that could somehow keep the baby from descending any lower.  His free hand was on his hair, fingers tangled in the strands as he brushed it back, almost a nervous twitch. 

“Bobby,” he moaned, body twisting, hunching forward over himself as if he could escape the pain. “Oh, God. Ahh, ughn, fuck!”

Aiden's body moved in autopilot, movement dictated by the sudden animal urgency, by the pressure building up. His body trembled, moving away from the wall, and his legs spread wide apart. A wave of pressure washed over him, and there was a moment of total panic taking over his body when he felt the clear feeling of something moving down between his legs, his hips jerking as the contraction reached its peak. 

“Fuck…! Ugh!” Aiden whimpered. The pressure building disappeared as soon as he felt the sudden burst of liquid trickling down his legs, amniotic fluid dripping on the floor as his hand gripped the base of his stomach. “Oh, my water broke! My water just broke!”

Yeah, Bobby could see that. He could see the puddle growing at Aiden’s feet and the wet patch staining the crotch of his pants.

Aiden let out a shaky breath, looking between the liquid at his feet and Bobby. He swallowed. Then, the look of confusion in his face vanished, and the flare in his eyes turned into panic, because now that his water had broken, Aiden swore he could feel the baby’s head right there. He could feel the round mass stretching him slowly, starting to tear his hole as it moved down. 

He could barely stand straight. It felt as if the baby was just a second away from just dangling between his legs. Aiden tried his best to straighten himself up, waddling away from the puddle of amniotic fluid at his feet. He moved to the opposite wall, the sounds of his heavy breathing filling the confined space. 

God, this couldn’t be happening. 

“Shit,” Bobby swallowed, “Alright. Ok, let's not panic, yeah? Just…”

Bobby leaned forward and pressed the call button on the panel again. He frantically pressed two, three times until the silence was interrupted by the flat, mechanical voice on the other side. This time it was a different woman’s voice, distant and distracted.

“Hello?” the woman said. 

“Hello, yeah,” Bobby said, his eyes darting between Aiden and the speaker. “Uh, we’re still stuck. We really need to get out of here…”

“The technicians are already working on it, sir,” the female voice interrupted him, “We estimate the elevator will be working again in…. Around twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, no, we’re kinda having a medical emergency…”

“Tell her I’m about to have a fucking baby!” Aiden cried.

He felt like he was about to have a fucking baby indeed. Just as the words left his mouth, another contraction took over him. Aiden leaned forward, hips squirming as his forehead pressed against the cold wall. Aiden stood still, jaw tensing as his face turned into a grimace, hips swaying in the air in an attempt to release the pressure, another low moan escaping his lips.

Twenty minutes. The woman had said twenty minutes, and fuck—Aiden was not sure this baby was going to wait twenty minutes.

He froze. His eyes snapped open, wide, and one of his hands jerked to slide between his legs, cupping his hole over the wet fabric of his pants. The head had moved down. Aiden gasped, body tensing as he tried to remain quiet, as if that could just make the head not come any lower. 

“No, Bobby, I don’t think I have twenty minutes in me,” Aiden panted, lifting his head slightly to glance at Bobby, “This baby is coming. Now.”

There was a beat of silence in the line, the sound of the static filling the air. Then, the woman came back.

“Alright, sir. We’re contacting 911,” the woman said, too calmly.” However, they can't do anything until the elevator is fixed. Please remain calm in the meantime.”

He had to remain calm. He had to remain calm because there was no fucking way on earth he was going to push this baby out in this stupid fucking elevator.

13:00

Stuck. He had refused to think about his situation as stuck— that meant there was no other route, there were no more options Aiden could think about, his mind couldn’t perform any kind of mental gymnastics to convince himself he still had time, that it was going to be alright. That they were going to get out of there.

But acceptance was slowly dwelling on him.

“Oh. Ugh, nhgn…!” Aiden moaned, eyebrows furrowing as his face scrunched up in pain. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He had spent the last minutes (could as well be hours, time was a sticky concept in his mind right now, ill-defined and slippery) trying to find a position that could spare him any kind of relief. Any kind of comfort the setting allied, of course, trapped inside a damn tin can. 

He tried standing still, as if not moving could somehow slow any of what was happening. It didn’t erase the feeling of the baby’s head slowly stretching him open. He couldn’t help the way his hips shifted and jerked with each contraction —one right after the other, too fast, too much in the last few minutes—, each time his hole would stretch open wider to accommodate the head sliding down. Aiden couldn’t even believe it when he resorted to the humiliating, ridiculous task of getting on all fours on the floor, his gravid contracting belly swaying each time he rocked back and forth with the contractions. 

He was not supposed to be crawling on the floor of an elevator right now. He was supposed to be bouncing on a birthing ball or using the stupid tub or anything of the things they paid for when they planned the birth of this baby.

But he wasn’t. And this baby was coming.

Aiden spread his legs open, planting both feet firmly on the floor as his back pressed against the wall, the sweaty fabric of his shirt sticking to his skin, sending a shiver down his back. He let out a loud groan as he lowered himself to a squat. His body almost complained at the movement, thighs trembling and stomach tensing as it hung low between his spread legs, but God, the position felt good. It was self-defeating, he knew he shouldn’t be doing anything that could even help move this baby down, but Aiden had lost the battle with his own body long ago. 

He let out a shaky breath as his hands moved to press against the sides of his gravid stomach, rubbing against the taut muscle beneath. The relief was short. It was only a matter of seconds before the pressure of the head sitting so, so low on his pelvis came back full force.

Aiden let out a whimper, body tensing. He couldn’t stay still, but each movement felt like it was forcing the baby down. He couldn’t stand the overpowering feeling of the pressure growing between his legs, he couldn’t stand the heat prickling at his skin, the uncomfortable feeling of being so full, so tight everywhere. 

If Aiden wasn’t still clinging to the last of his dignity, to the last shred of absurdity that he was still in control of anything, he would have ripped off his shirt, take off his pants. He could not stand the wet fabric sticking to the back of his tights or the sudden feeling that his shirt had shrunk two sizes, the tight fabric grating against his sensitive nipples, against the furious skin of his massive stomach.

“Help me up,” he panted, extending his arms up towards Bobby. “Fuuuuuck…!”

Bobby came over to him and held his hands, lifting him up. Aiden breathed heavily. The movement was a bit too sudden, a bit too harsh, and Aiden’s legs trembled when he finally got to his feet. God, that was a bad idea. He just couldn’t stand straight, and he could feel the baby’s head just a few centimeters away from his entrance, bulging his hole out.

And he had to push. He couldn’t ignore the excruciating feeling anymore, his legs trembling beneath him as he bent forward. 

“Fuck,” Aiden moaned, hitting the wall with his hand. “Oh, fuck. I have to push.”

“Do not,” Bobby urged, “Don’t push. Just…!”

“I can't-” Aiden groaned, a whine escaping his mouth, “I can't not push, it's right there, shit, Bobby!”

Bobby swallowed, eyes darting between Aiden’s agonizing form and the closed doors in front of them. There wasn’t much he could do. Bobby turned back and pressed the call button again, incessantly. Nothing happened on the other side.

Aiden, on this side, couldn’t care right now about whether the people from administration were responding or if there was actually anyone trying to get this elevator to work — though he suspected that was indeed happening, he could hear the faint creaking sounds of something hitting the metal— he couldn’t care about Bobby's uselessness. All his focus right now was on fighting the growing urge to push that was taking over him, his muscles tense, hands in fists, eyes closed as he tried to fight to keep the baby’s head from moving lower.

13:05

Aiden refused to stare at his phone. Not like he could actually gather his focus to take his phone, unlock it, and check the time, but he also refused to know how much time had passed since the last time he saw the clock. It could have been five minutes or an hour. Time was wrapping around him dangerously, and Aiden's reality couldn’t focus on anything else but the pressure, the feeling of the baby trying to force its way out of him.

The pressure. There was so much pressure. He felt as if his body was trying to push a bowling ball out of his hole, starting to stretch him open. He was sure that if he could slide a hand inside his pants, he would feel the head bulging out of his tight hole. He couldn’t keep his legs closed. They were spread open as Aiden's hands clung to the wall, desperately trying to get a grip on anything, his head hanging low against his chest. 

Most of his talking —well, more of a compendium of insults and profanities launched into the air— had turned into a babbling, whimpering mess, low and desperate sounds escaping his lips as his body trembled. He was trying so hard not to push.

God, this baby was coming.

“Fuck, Bobby, it’s so low. I can feel it, it’s right there,” Aiden panted, eyes closing as he shook his head. “Nnnnnnnnnngghhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaahhhhh!”

He hit the wall, a loud blast echoing in the silence, lowering himself against it. His body was bent in an awkward angle, his hips pushing back, legs spread wide, gravid belly hanging beneath him as his muscles locked, all his body tensing as he tried to fight the urge to push.

“I can’t fucking hold it in any longer,” Aiden moaned, “Oh, God!”

Aiden’s brain shut off. If he lifted his head for a second and looked around, if he had been able to listen to something but the sound of his blood pulsating in his ears, he would’ve heard the faint sounds of the people working outside the elevator's doors. Somewhere on the other side, they were finally working to fix the problem. Just a tad too late.

“Shit, Aiden, just…” Bobby sighed, brushing a hand over his head. “Just hold it in, we’re…!”

Bobby was frozen in place. He had no fucking idea what to do right now, besides just urging Aiden not to push. His eyes widened as he stared at his ex-boyfriend: the man’s body shook, legs bent slightly, and amniotic fluid trickled down from between his legs as he leaned forward, a long moan escaping his mouth.

“I can’t hold it in-” Aiden panted, “I just- I can’t-”

His words were interrupted by another loud whimper. Aiden’s eyes went wide. 

The head was moving down against his will. Even when he was making all the conscious effort to not push, he could feel the mass slowly stretching his hole open as it made its way down. 

The baby’s head was coming out of him, and he couldn’t help but push.

“Nhgnnn, fuck!” Aiden screamed. His forehead pressed harder against the wall, hands turning into fists. “Oh, shit, it’s coming out!”

They were making quite a scene. Aiden facing one of the corners of the elevator, body contorted and hunched over himself, trembling as amniotic fluids pooled at his feet, while Bobby frantically pressed the stupid call button, his eyes moving from Aiden to the speaker, and from the speaker to Aiden, all while he screamed at him to not push.

All Aiden could focus on, all his mind could process, was feeling his baby moving down his birth canal and his body doing everything it could to stop it from coming, only to fail. Feel the inevitable burn of his hole as the head stretched it open, straining under the huge size of his son’s head coming out.

Aiden moaned, biting his lips until he could taste blood. His underwear, the wet fabric of his pants sticking against the skin of his legs, was starting to bulge as the head started to make its way out of him. If he reached behind him and slid a hand inside his pants, he could have felt a small bit of sticky hair as the head started to crown. But he didn't. He still refused to acknowledge the fact that his body was giving up. 

If he could, he would have closed his legs, tried anything to keep the head from emerging any further, but his body was locked, muscles straining and tensing as he tried to keep the baby in. 

Then— Aiden's eyes snapped open, mouth going wide. His hole burned when the head popped out of him, crowning at its widest point. He let out a scream at the burning feeling, skin stretching to the max as his hole accommodated the girth of the baby’s head, legs trembling, knees threatening to snap close together. As if that could hold it in, to push the head back inside. 

“Fuck, Bobby, fuck, I’m crowning!” Aiden moaned, attempting to move a hand to take off his pants, but he couldn't focus on anything but the urge to push. “The head’s out! He’s out!”

He pressed his hands against the wall, let his chin fall towards his chest, and pushed. Another gush of amniotic liquid stained the fabric of his pants as the head slid out another centimeter, his body trembling and eyes rolling at the back of his head as another scream left his mouth. He couldn’t stop pushing, not even when his knees trembled and not even when the head slid fully out of him, only to press against the fabric of his underwear, bulging against the wet fabric of his pants. 

“Shit,” Bobby muttered, blinking at the round bulge between Aiden’s legs. “Shit.”

Aiden howled, clumsily trying to spread his legs apart even more, as much as his pants would allow him. He couldn’t escape the feeling of the head pressing against the wet fabric of his underwear, the feeling of his body still pushing against his will, even when the only thing that was keeping the head from completely coming out was his pants.

“Take…nhgn…my pants off!” Aiden whimpered.

“Yes, yeah, hold on!” Bobby replied, walking up to him.

By the time Bobby finally went up and pulled Aiden’s pants down, exposing the crowning head of their child hanging between his legs, his asshole stretching around the huge head, it only took one push. Just one push, as Aiden hunched over again, body trembling as he screamed.

The baby’s head slid out of him with a gush of amniotic fluid as Bobby caught it.

“Holy shit,” Bobby said. “It’s out.”

“Catch him,” Aiden breathed, "Catch him.”

Aiden's body tensed. One more push and the baby slid out of him with another gush of amniotic liquid right into Bobby’s hands, the small cries filling up the small space.

Aiden breathed, thighs trembling, threatening to give up as he slowly turned around. There was a moment of silence, his head spinning, the sound of his blood and the cries of his baby pumping in his ears, before he heard a small chirp reverberate in the air. 

The floor moved beneath them. Then, the quiet buzz of the electricity filled the air as the doors opened, showing the uniformed faces of the firefighters on the other side. Their eyes moved to Aiden, then to the baby, then back to Aiden.

A robotic voice came from the speakers and announced 'Floor number 1'.