Page 21 of The Winging It Holiday Special

“I’m concerned about Kitty’s understanding of human reproduction,” Dante said numbly. He hadvastlyunderestimated his husband’s ability to brood.

“He’s not wrong, though. Most adoption agencies still take married couples more seriously. We could try surrogacy, but that’s complicated.”

Paid surrogacy wasn’t legal in Canada—Dante wasn’t thinking about why he knew that—and it wasn’t like either of them knew a whole lot of women of childbearing age who were anxious to carry someone else’s kid. “Okay.” He smiled as the good things finally soothed the sting of Gabe’s impending retirement and the shock of having thoroughly misunderstood himself. “Maybe it’s a good thing that takes a while.”

Gabe raised an eyebrow.

“If you’re gonna be a stay-at-home dad, you should probably learn to cook.”

Realistically, they had too much to do that morning to fall back into bed together, but despite Dante’s newly acknowledged Mr. Responsible persona, this didn’t stop them.

They did have a slight hiccup in the bedroom, when Dante was splayed on his back with Gabe thrusting between his thighs and he started to giggle inappropriately.

“Don’t.” Gabe snapped his hips, but he was barely holding it together. Dante could see it in his face.

Dante bit down on a laugh that turned into a moan. “I’msorry! I can’t help it!” He hissed when Gabe yanked on his thighs and pulled him down harder onto his cock. Arching into it, Dante dug his heels into the mattress.

“I swear to God. I am not going to knock you up—”

“Hnnn.” This time the laugh slipped out. Dante wrapped a hand around his cock. “Not withthatattitude.” Gabe groaned and pushed Dante’s knee up toward his chest. Dante’s eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“And you were worried aboutKitty.”

Suddenly Dante didn’t have the breath to answer. Gabe sped his thrusts, and all Dante could do was hook his right leg behind his hips and urge him faster. “Fuck, yes—rightthere—”

Gabe pushed his knee back a little farther and went for it, thrusting hard enough Dante saw stars. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Jerk yourself off.”

Dante was already on edge, riding the edge of orgasm. He thumbed the head of his dick, smearing the fluid over the slit, and shuddered in pleasure. “Close.”

“Do it,” Gabe commanded. “Come—come for me now—”

Helplessly, Dante closed his eyes and obeyed.

Gabe followed him over the edge, hot and slick and messy. Dante held him close as they caught their breath, not ready to separate just yet.

But with their guests’ impending arrival, there wasn’t time to laze in bed. It would’ve been way too easy to fall asleep.

“How long ’til your dad arrives, do you think?” Dante asked in the kitchen, peering into the refrigerator. Should he make lunch for two or five?

Gabe consulted his phone. “Talia says they’re an hour out.”

Five, then. “Time for your first cooking lesson?” he teased.

Gabe looked panicked. “I thought we were just doing sandwiches!”

Well, Dante had spent months thinking his husband was freaking out over wanting children, so they were even.

Speaking of. He pulled out his own phone to text Michelle.Long, embarrassing story short: actually Gabe’s angst is because he’s retiring from hockey, with addendum: yes he wants a baby.

Michelle’s reply came a few minutes later, when Dante was supervising Gabe’s precise slicing of cucumbers for a vegetable tray.That’s a lot!! Congratulations!!!!And then, later,Addendum??? Big word for a hockey bro.

Dante snorted.I have hidden depths.

You’re an open book, Michelle replied, which was absolutely true and also a point of personal pride, so Dante didn’t bother replying.

They had the vegetable tray presentable by the time the doorbell rang.

“Since when does your dad not just walk inside?” Dante grumbled, finding himself once again up to his elbows in dishwater.

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