Archive of Our Own

The stone steps of Summerhall always held the heat, long after the sun had sunk below the horizon. They thrummed with a warmth not often found in the Stormlands.

When he was younger, his father told him it was because dragons had breathed life into the stone, that the very ground they stood on once made up the walls of the great Dragonpit. It was not until many, many years later that he realised this was obviously untrue, and that the castle was just fortunate with its position to the sun, and its proximity to underground pools of hot water in the mountains.

Quietly, he still liked to believe it was the dragons.

Regardless of whether it was dragonfire or hot water springs, he was thankful for their heat tonight.

Duncan was late; he had promised in his last letter that he would arrive at Summerhall (home, he had called it) before the sun sank below the horizon in three days' time. He and Aegon had been gone for weeks, almost two entire moon cycles, and he had grown weary of the distance between them.

He missed Duncan like a lung

The Alpha had left after a fight, he was seven moons pregnant, and the knight had a habit of letting his and Aegon’s little journeys run long, too easily swayed by the wide eyed puppy looks from the teenaged Alpha. His husband had sworn it would not be a long journey, that he had an obligation to fulfill and then they would be right back. Aerion had argued back that as far as he was concerned, the only obligation Dunk should have was to him, his wife, and that if he wanted to give birth alone, he would have gone back to Lys.

Things had devolved from there, ending with him saying that Dunk could fuck off and go fulfill whatever obligations he had to whatever bastards and whores he had running around and the Alpha storming out, the wooden frame of the door creaking with how hard he slammed the door.

Communication between them was nonexistent for the time Dunk was gone, so the letter had been a surprise. It was brief, the lettering chaotic and the parchment roughly torn. It read almost uncaring, holding none of the usual colourful explanations Duncan favoured nor the distracted ramblings on entirely unimportant matters often featured. It just explained that they were a three days ride west, and that if the weather remained favourable, they would arrive before sunset.

He had even simply signed the letter as Dunk. He was a Prince of House Targaryen, he had given the man three healthy children with a fourth sitting heavily on his hips, and had his mating bite sitting squarely on the side of his neck, and the man had signed the letter as Dunk.

He was ready to tear the letter to shreds and throw the pieces in the fire when he noticed in the very bottom corner, written in even smaller and rougher handwriting was “I miss you.”

It was not even close to an apology but he was suddenly overwhelmed with a painful yearning, and he pressed the letter against his face, trying to uncover any scent the man may have rubbed off onto the parchment. He was able to catch the slightest hint of it, and he soon found himself on their bed, rubbing his weeping cunt against a pillow with the letter folded so only the I miss you was visible clutched in one hand and the other pressed to the distended swell of his bump.

That had been three days ago, and the sun had long set below the horizon. He had dismissed his personal guard hours ago, insisting to the older man that he would be fine, and it was not like he could wander far in his state. He had been having an increase in contractions since that morning, contractions that he was still trying to convince himself were merely practice ones, that his labour was not starting without Duncan present.

He had paced as much as his heavy belly and swollen ankles would allow, wearing a path up and down the stone steps of the entrance before collapsing heavily onto one of the stone benches that lined the gardens. He had to spread his legs to sit comfortably, so he was quietly thankful for the privacy the empty night granted him.

The robe he wore was thin, almost scandalously so, but it was long, covering him completely. It was the only item of clothing that did not irritate his sensitive skin, and wasn’t brutally heavy in the warm evenings. It was not a hardship to wear, a brilliant orange that reminded him of fire, of the sunset that had lit up the sky when he and Duncan had fallen back into each other's orbit.

It was also one of the only things that fit him comfortably at this late stage in his pregnancy. It also meant that none of the servantry or guards, excluding his personal guard, had looked at him directly in over a week.

The silk was like a douse of water against his overheated and stretched skin, brushing gently along the swollen bump with every shift of the air. He was not even wearing his small clothes, not that they would have lasted long into his reunion with Duncan anyways.

It was a thrill, a small danger he could afford, to be wearing so little, and to wander the castle grounds without his personal guards or attendants nipping at his heels. It was also a thrill due to how long this baby sat, its head pressed tightly against his slowly dilating cervix.

His belly had begun to drop two weeks ago, and practice contractions started with a quiet fury. He had carried relatively high this pregnancy, with the babe feeling like it sat on his lungs more days than not. It had been a startling realization, getting out of the bath one evening and having his equilibrium thrown out so violently, to look in the mirror and see the normally tight swell of his stomach beginning to droop into an almost teardrop shape.

He rubbed his hand along the curve of his belly, the other coming to press against the small of his back, digging his fingers into the protesting muscles there. Even just from his pacing up and down the steps, his stomach had dropped lower, a sudden internal shift speaking of the babes descent.

Perhaps he did not have as much time as he thought he did.

He could not hold back his whimper, exhaling shakily into the empty night. This would be baby number four and he was still not quite used to the feeling of transition, the way it felt like his entire womb would shift downward, forcing him to stretch in a way he always seemed to forget about until it was happening.

The pressure was more intense this time in comparison to his other pregnancies. He could still remember how heavily Maegor had sat in the cradle of his pelvis, how he had felt like his eldest could have just fallen out of him at a moments notice. Arlan had been similar, though he had sat low from the moment Aerion had begun to show, and had been the biggest of all his pregnancies so far. Rhaena was a different case entirely, as he had not felt her engage until his waters had broken and she was bullying her way through his cervix with a vengeance, his body instinctively pushing before his mind could catch up.

He blew out a harsh breath, widening his stance and tilting his hips to almost try and run away from it, but to no avail. It wasn’t the clenching tightness of a contraction, but a slow, rolling pressure, almost like the babe was giving him a hand written note to say to expect its arrival imminently.

At least this one was making itself known.

Pregnancy, motherhood, was never something he had imagined for himself. There was always the assumption that he would be married off to a lord far below his station in an arrangement he had no say in, and he would have a child or two as an act of security. Instinct would play no role in this arrangement, there would be no love, no mating bite on his neck.

Likely just a fortunately early death for whatever Alpha he was palmed off to.

That had changed, of course, after Ashford, and that small decision to visit the insufferable hedge knight in that damp cell, the taste of his own blood still fresh on his tongue. Instinct had played a role there, had meshed with his own desire and malcontentment and brought him behind the bars where he found himself with his back pressed against the dank stone, the Alpha’s heavy cock thrusting into his soaked cunt in the dark.

He could still recall it so vividly, how he had still been leaking cum as they fought in the mud. How his cunt had been stretched so wide, he was still gaping and drooling into his small clothes even as he quietly yielded to the other man. He could still remember how it felt, under all the humiliation, the fear, the anger, and pain, to still desire the other man so deeply, to wish that he would have just taken Aerion again right there in the mud.

Maegor had been the consequence of that union, a decision to skip a cup of moon tea that had nestled deeply in his womb. Arlan was also a product of a temperamental union, though that pregnancy was quietly more welcomed than the first had been. Rhaena was almost planned, the first pup conceived and born in wedlock.

Only one moon had passed after the birth of their daughter before they had laid together again, unable to keep their hands off each other even in Aerion’s own post-partum discomfort. He found it deeply flattering, the way Duncan could hardly stand to keep his hands off of him, shedding the skin of the perfect knight and Alpha and simply being an animal.

After the confirmation of this pregnancy and Rhaena passing her third moon, his father had sighed heavily and said that they would need to be housed in separate wings once this babe was born.

Daeron had asked if he had ever tried taking Duncan in the other hole, or perhaps having him cum on his cunt rather than in it. After briefly imagining the very graphic ways he could have tortured his brother to death, Aerion had very happily informed him of all the different places Duncan had cum in and on him.

He could feel himself throbbing at the memory of the conception of this pregnancy, how eagerly Duncan had pressed him against the dresser in the nursery and fucked his still swollen cunt until it bled. He was torn from the pleasant memory by the sound of hooves and the soft whinnying of a horse, and raised his head just in time to see two figures approach and disappear into the stables.

With no small effort, he heaved himself off the bench, taking a moment to pant from the movement, and made his way down into the short grass, slightly off the main pathway up to the palace entrance. He waited, rubbing his tight belly absently, and it was only a short amount of time before Aegon burst out of the stables, possessing the typical energy of a growing teenaged Alpha.

His brother beelined for him, not slowing down nor verbalising a greeting, but merely stopping close enough to allow for Aerion to scent him lightly, the comforting scent of a pregnant familial omega releasing tension from his shoulders. They would not pretend to be close, their relationship often volatile with far too much unspoken animosity, but there had been a definite shift following his second child and mating with Duncan.

“The servants have been keeping the water warm. Go bathe.” Aerion directed, reaching up and rubbing a hand over the white blond hair of the boy. Aegon was taller than him, having shot up like a weed and taking after Daeron and their father in terms of build.

At least Aemon and Daella were of similar heights to him.

Aegon did not say anything, just yawned wide enough for his jaw to crack audibly and pushed his head into Aerion’s touch before forging ahead up the path, disappearing into the palace.

“Charming.” He said, watching as Aegon disappeared before turning back to find Duncan standing before him, looking worn but otherwise unharmed.

They stared at each other for a moment. The Alpha had new pinkening scrapes over his knuckles and deep dark smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep, but he was still breathtakingly handsome, his hair loose and eyes bright.

“You’re late,” Aerion said after a beat, smoothing his hands over the front of his robe. “You look a mess, you do know you’re supposed to ride the horse, not be trampled by it?”

“My apologies, Your Highness, we ran into some small troubles along the way.” Dunk said, dropping his satchel onto the grass and stalking forward.

“There would have been no trouble if you listened to me for once in your life and did not leave in the first place.” He retorted.

“Careful, wife, it sounds like perhaps you missed me?”

“You piss me off and then you have the audacity to give me cheek immediately upon your return,” he said as Duncan came to a stop in front of him. “I’ve changed my mind, away with you, Ser Duncan.”

Dunk plucked at the orange fabric of his robe, acting as if he had never spoken at all.

“I like when you wear this, you should wear only it from now on.”

“I am currently only wearing it, I-“ he cut himself off with a frown. “Do not change the subject, I would be within my right mind to have you sleep out here with the foliage and the horses.”

“You wear only this? You swear it?” Dunk asked, tilting his head to look at him as if he could see through the opaque fabric.

“You are an insolent fool, you-“

He was swiftly cut off by Dunk pressing their mouths together, the Alpha wrapping him up in his arms and pressing their bodies together as tightly as the swell of his stomach would allow them to.

He really had missed the Alpha, even when they were a single room apart, he missed him. Even when he was deliriously infuriated at him, pregnant and miserable in Lys, he missed him.

He had begun to measure his life in two separate parts, before Duncan, and after Duncan.

With the touch and scent of his husband, Aerion could feel his whole body relax, unclenching with a tension he did not realise he possessed, and he whimpered quietly into Dunk’s mouth. The Alpha made a soft growling noise in the back of his throat that he replied to with a soft mew of his own, his own unspoken admission of the yearning he had been feeling.

The kiss was sweet but it did not remain as such for long, as Duncan hands began to roam, reigniting the itch he had not been able to scratch on his lonesome. They could hardly keep their hands off each other on a normal day, but the distance between them and the hormonal rush of late stage pregnancy brought a new fever.

Dunk slipped his hand under the loose neckline of his robe, cupping his breast in his hand and squeezing gently as they kissed. The other came down to caress the drooping underside of his swollen belly, rubbing a soothing circle there briefly.

He did not linger there, sliding his hand down to cup the wet heat of his exposed pussy, sliding two fingers over his gaping hole and grinding his palm on the plump swell of his clit. Aerion gasped into the kiss and pulled back, only for Dunk to begin to press kisses along his neck, suckling and teething at the pink scar of his mating bite.

“You couldn’t- couldn’t even wait five minutes to get back to our chambers, oaf? Aegon has only just entered the palace.” Aerion asked around a shaky moan.

“I missed you, and you look beautiful.” Dunk said simply, even as he pushed two fingers inside of him slowly, scissoring and thrusting them gently.

He tipped his head back with a moan, shifting his already spread legs apart even more, clutching at the hand Dunk had squeezing his breast. His chest was so tight, so full even though he had fed Rhaena less than two hours ago, Arlan whining at his feet after being denied, the three year old too big to fit comfortably in his lap.

He could feel his milk begin to leak as the Alpha squeezed him, warm and heavy. He had fallen pregnant with this babe not even three moons after Rhaena was born, turning his milk thicker with the rush of hormones through his body.

Sweeter too, according to his Alpha.

“Let me drink from you,” Dunk murmured, now pressing kisses over his collarbones and chest, his fingers now working in a steady rhythm in Aerion cunt. “The ride was long and I am starving.”

He bit his lip to stifle the loud moan that was threatening to spill from his mouth. The sensations were almost too much, the pressure on his hips and Dunk’s broad fingers deep inside.

“Then we will have to stop by the kitchens, you cuntstruck fool,” He replied, pushing Dunk away and releasing a bark of laughter at the man’s dejected expression. Now that he was no longer clutching at Duncan, his hands rubbed restless circles over his bump, pushing upwards against the underside of it. “You wish to suckle from my tits and fuck my cunt? There are only so many hours in a night.”

“I had plans to lick you out as well, if you are agreeable,” Dunk said, flattening his hands over Aerion’s own, stopping their restless movements. “I really did miss you, I always hate to leave, I should not have left.”

“No, you should not have, and you can show me just how much in our chambers, I’ve grown tired of being outside.” He said, taking a step back. He could not hide how his face twisted in discomfort, the babe so low in his pelvis that walking was now uncomfortable. It was definitely progressing faster than he thought, his steps now taking on a waddling width to them.

He managed to waddle back onto the stone, the heat from them a welcomed change from the dampness of the grass, and turned back to find Duncan just simply staring at him.

“Or have you decided to make a new home amongst the horses and the trees like I suggested?” He questioned, digging his fingers into the muscle of his lower back.

Duncan ignored him, and continued to stare, a mildly stunned expression on his face.

“I did not realise you had dropped so low.”

Before he could even open his mouth to reply, a contraction gripped him tightly, a cramping pain that emanated from his back all the way around to the underside of his stomach, the swell hardening viciously under his hand. His breath skipped as the babe shifted once more, pressing closer to his weakening cervix. It did not last long, but it was much stronger than the practice ones he had been having for weeks, stronger than the recent shifting cramps from earlier in the night.

“Aerion.”

“Husband.”

In a few short strides, Dunk was in front of him. He could not help but be mildly affronted by how quickly he had crossed the space. His affront was then redirected by the feeling of his husband's hands rubbing over his belly, with significantly less sexual intent than earlier to his great dismay.

“Four children we have together, Duncan, two, soon to be three, of which you have been present for the births of, and yet you are still unfamiliar with the process? Stop rubbing me like that, fool.” He hissed, grabbing Dunk’s hand to press it against the very bottom of the swell of his stomach, just above his mound.

“Is that-?”

“That is your baby, pressed tightly against my cervix.” Obviously went unsaid, but echoed loudly in the empty night.

“Aerion, why didn’t you say? You should be with the maesters.” Dunk said, his tone reprimanding but his eyes vacant as he petted the slight bulge of the babe.

He clicked his tongue in displeasure, and began his walk back to their chambers once more. Five minutes ago, he had his husband’s fingers in his cunt and now the man wants to summon the maesters. Fool.

“My waters are still intact, it is fine. Besides, we have plans, do we not?”

“You- We- Aerion, you’re in labour.”

“Astute as fucking ever, Ser, I am pleased to see that your time away has not dulled your senses completely,” He said, walking through the halls as fast as he could in his current state. “Considering how little you have left.”

“Aerion, don’t walk away from me.” Dunk said, easily catching up with his larger strides. “Aerion!”

“If you want the Maesters so fucking bad, you can go and have them put their whole fist up your cunt,” he snapped, not breaking his stride. “I am going to our chambers.”

“I thought you said we were going to the kitchens.”

He stopped once more in his path and whirled around, forcing Dunk to screech to a grinding halt so he did not knock him over. He had his I’m a sweet and humble hedge knight man of the people look on his face, though Aerion could tell he was pleased by the twist of his lips.

“You are killing me, you are killing your labouring wife.” Aerion said, completely serious in a way that made Dunk’s neutrality crack, his booming laughter filling the hallway. “Do not laugh at me, I’ll have you killed.”

“After how poorly it went the last time?” The Alpha asked with a tilt to his head that made his heart clench lightly. He could recall Arlan making the exact same expression at him only a handful of hours earlier.

He simply released an unimpressed hmph, and made to turn away again before his wrist was grabbed and he was easily tugged back into the circle of his husband's arms.

“I am not laughing at you,” he said, sliding his hand up the curve of Aerion’s spine before resting on the back of his neck. “I am simply worried, that is all.”

“There is nothing to worry about, I feel fine,” he replied softly, his annoyance dissipating with the calming touch and proximity. “I don’t- It doesn’t feel like it did-“

With Maegor went unsaid, but he could tell that Duncan understood what he meant. He did not like to speak about that birth, alone in Lys with only his sworn sword, and the trauma and pain of it. There had been an overarching feeling of wrongness since the moment he went into labour with his first child, and it was something that he still had not quite been able to recount to his husband in its entirety.

“Are you sure?” Dunk asked, not questioning or second guessing him, merely asking for confirmation.

“I would not lie,” he said, tipping his head up so he could press their lips together softly. “Not about this, never about this.”

“You would tell me, if anything changed, if anything felt different?”

“I swear it,” he said, raising Dunk’s pink knuckles to press them to his lips. “I have not yet reached my quota on the children I plan to have with you, I have no plans on letting that future be squashed.”

Dunk laughed once more. “I trust you. How are you feeling?”

“Wet, I’m gaping for you already.”

“Aerion.”

He just laughed, and pulled away from the Alpha’s grabbing hands, forging ahead to their chambers with a new fire. He stepped to the side and allowed Duncan to take his hand, his roughened hand dwarfing his own smaller ones.

He let the robe slip from his shoulders as they entered the chambers, the thin fabric pooling to the floor uncaringly. He heard Dunk’s satchel join it with a heavy thud, and soon felt the Alpha press himself along his naked back, squeezing his hips soothingly.

“I love you.

He did not reply, simply reached up blindly to cup his face before slipping down to press his fingers against Duncan’s mating bite.

“I missed you while I was away, I always do,” Dunk said again, bending low to whisper into his ear with his hands now cupping Aerion’s heavy tits. “I could not stop thinking about you, about the way the fabric of your clothing pulls so tightly across my pup in your stomach. About the sweet little cunt you hide between your legs, the way you spread them only for me.”

As he spoke, the Alpha began to knead his tits roughly and roll his hips, pressing the solid fat length of his cock against the small of his back. He could feel his cunt clench and ooze slick, and he moaned openly.

“I took a pair of your small-clothes with me,” he said roughly, walking them forward and bending Aerion over the edge of the bed, forcing him to plant his hands flat on the mattress. His belly hung heavily, bobbing in the air as he panted. “I pressed them to my face some nights while I fucked my fist. I licked and sucked the taste of your slick out of them, closed my eyes and imagined it was your cunt I had my face pressed against.”

“I have every, fucking Hells, every fucking right to make you go another day without this cunt,” he said, reaching back to spread his arse and show the blood flushed pink of his softening pussy. He was so swollen down there, had been for days, as his hips and cervix began to weaken in preparation for the birth. “I should make you face the wall and fist your cock, make you wait until you forget how I feel.”

“Next time, Your Highness, you want it too badly. I can smell it on you.”

“I-“

“Do you think if I fuck you now it will take again before you have even birthed this one?” Duncan asked rhetorically as he unlaced the fastening of his pants and pulled out his already hardened cock. “Such a good pussy for me, never wants to be empty.”

“Come on.” He whined, arching his back to push his cunt out further. He buried his face into the bedsheets as another contraction gripped him and was torn between a moan and a scream as Dunk shoved two fingers back into his cunt, fucking them in and out without hesitation.

“So fucking tight, getting ready to have my baby. Such a good wife.” He said, adding another finger and pistoning all three, the smack of them echoing wetly around the room. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone? Did you think of me?”

“Couldn’t reach,” he whispered, looking back over his shoulder as the contraction ceased. “I wanted to so badly, it never feels as good as when you do it.”

“You poor thing.” Duncan said softly, slowing his fingers into a deep slow grind. He was so deep, and feeling around strangely, none of his usual certainty when finding that sweet spot deep inside him that made his legs shake. He had his thumb rubbing slow circles around his clit, sending lightning bolts of pleasure up his spine.

“Duncan- Dunk, are you fucking, oh fuck, are you checking my cervix?”

He at least had the decency to look mildly sheepish, and apologised with a slow dragging thrust outwards that left him gasping. The Alpha leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the curve of his shoulder.

“Seven centimetres.”

“Are you fucking serious- Oh!”

Before he could finish his sentence, Duncan forced his back into a harsher arch with his hand on Aerion’s low back, and shoved the entire length of his fat cock inside in one thrust. Aerion could feel the way his throbbing walls were forced apart, swollen and sensitive from early labour, and he could have sworn that on any other occasion, Dunk would have thrust right through his cervix.

It was so much, almost too much. Aerion could not figure out whether to try and run away or to demand more, all he could focus on was that hot, thick cock nestled inside him. It was all he had been craving for weeks, the fight before Duncan’s departure shaking up their usual routine of rough goodbye sex that usually left him sated.

Aerion bit down on the blankets below him, smothering a scream as Dunk grinded deeply against him, creamy slick dripping down his thighs with every roll of the Alpha’s hips. The muffled whining cry would have embarrassed him if he was not so caught up in the throes of his orgasm, clenching and throbbing around the fat intrusion.

“That’s it, squeeze around me. Such a good fucking pussy, cumming already.” Dunk murmured, rubbing and squeezing at the fat of his ass.

The Alpha does not let him ride out the entirety of his orgasm before he starts to fuck him in earnest, pulling Aerion on and off his cock like a sleeve rather than fucking into him. It’s rough, almost mean, and it’s exactly what he needs right now. If he could form a coherent thought, he would have laughed at the difference between now and his husband's earlier concern.

He finally unclenched his jaw, letting his moans flow freely as he began to try and gain some leverage, fucking and rolling his hips back as much as he could with his heavy belly.

“Shit, oh Duncan, you’re going to break my waters.” He managed to whine, forcing himself up onto his hands and drawing one knee up onto the bed.

“I should pull out and fuck you here,” Dunk panted, not slowing the thrust of his hips as he pressed his thumb against the tight pink furl of Aerion’s hole. “You always cry so prettily when you take me here, I should sit you on my cock and you can warm me while you labour with our baby.”

Aerion could not even speak, opening his mouth just resulting in whorish moans spilling free. It was all he could do to hold himself up on the bed and take it.

“Wish you could see how you look right now, Aerion fuck, can’t believe this cunt is all mine,” Dunk said, rubbing his fingers over where they were connected, the skin stretched taunt. Aerion whined as Dunk pressed against him, trying to force his finger in alongside his cock. “Come on, Your Highness.”

“It’s too much, Dunk, it hurts.” Aerion whined, feeling overwhelmed as his cunt clenched and throbbed in overstimulation.

“You can take it, you were made for this.” The Alpha said, forcing his finger in finally. The cry that Aerion released was something that would not have been out of place in a whore house, and he clenched down tightly, forcing a matching moan from Duncan. The Alpha thrust his finger in time with the slow roll of his hips, stretching him wide like he was already being knotted.

He fucked him slowly and deeply for a moment, before he pulled his finger free suddenly. Aerion looked back over his shoulder with a small noise of displeasure and watched as Duncan sucked on his finger, pink tongue savouring that taste of his slick. He wanted that tongue in his cunt, or on his nipples. Perhaps he should have not been so hasty in his earlier redirection, his tits were swollen and tight, so full of milk that he felt he might burst.

Dunk released his finger with a small Pop!, licking his lips and leaning in once more to press a kiss to Aerion’s shoulder. He was so devastatingly handsome that he could feel himself gush more slick, that despite the fact he was about to birth their fourth child together, he wanted to give him another immediately.

Duncan thrust forward suddenly, snapping his hips and lurching Aerion forward on the bed. The sudden rough thrust threw him off, and he fell onto his elbows as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. He brought one hand down to support his stomach, the distended swell rubbing against the sheets with every thrust.

He had almost forgotten about the situation at hand until another contraction gripped him suddenly, the strongest so far. It spread like lightning over his stomach, and it was almost like he could physically feel his hips spreading and his cervix dilating further.

He could not help it, his moan of pleasure tapering off into a whimper of pain as his heavy belly visibly tightened, the contraction gripping him as Dunk thrust deep inside of him. He could feel his pussy clamp down around the fat intrusion of the Alpha’s cock and rolled his hips into it, gripping tightly at the fat length. Dunk released his own moan of pleasure, stopping his thrusts to grip at the base of his cock.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Aerion whimpered, pressing his face into the sheets.

“Me too, you’re so tight.” Dunk replied, rubbing a hand along Aerion’s back.

“No, fuck, idiot,” he moaned, bouncing his hips back as Dunk started to thrust again. “The baby.”

“Do I need to stop?” he asked breathlessly, slowing his thrusts.

Aerion didn’t bother suppressing his unimpressed noise. “Do not even think about it, keep, uh, going.”

“Is it good? How do you feel?”

“Gods, I’m so full Duncan, it’s so low,” he said, rubbing his tight stomach. “

“Big?”

“Heavy,” Aerion corrected after a moment, riding out another contraction as Duncan continued to fuck him. They were coming closer together now, the urge to push beginning to whisper in his ear. “Not big like Arlan, just- fuck, like that, heavy.”

“You carry so well, my omega, giving me such strong and big pups.” Dunk moaned, gripping his hips tightly as his thrusts began to lose rhythm, one hand coming to pinch and rub his swollen clit.

“Dunk, please, I’m going to-“ He cut himself off with a cry, cumming hard and suddenly with one well placed thrust of Duncan’s cock. He squirted, covering the Alpha’s cock and thighs in slick as he throbbed, grinding against the Alpha’s pelvis and hand.

“Come on, Alpha please-“ Aerion cried as he shook with his orgasm. Duncan began to thrust harder, his knot swelling quickly as he grunted and moaned. He pulled free suddenly, spraying cum all over Aerion’s cheeks and hole as he gripped and massaged his knot tight. The prince moaned in displeasure, only subdued when the other man stuck the tip of his cock back into his gaping hole, flooding the swallow entrance with thick, warm cum.

He felt the cum begin to drip out of him around the fat head of Duncan’s cock when another contraction began, tightening viciously around the Alpha’s dick and forcing more cum out of the man with a sore moan. He felt amniotic fluid dribble out of him, flushing out the fresh cum as his waters began to leak.

Dunk pulled his cock free, and he laid there for a moment as his cunt pulsed with aftershocks. There was a brief respite before a burning contraction gripped him, it was well and truly time. He reached back, grabbing the pillows tightly in pantomime of his earlier pleasure and pushed, a cry of pain forcing its way past his lips as his cervix was spread.

He reached out for Duncan blindly, whacking the other man wildly before he linked their hands together, allowing for Aerion to squeeze desperately as he pushed. He could feel his waters slowly dripping out of him, the sack torn from their coupling. The pressure was immense, and his heels slipped against the sheets as he shifted against it.

Finally, the contraction ceased, and he sucked in deep lungfuls of air. He rubbed a hand over the top of his belly, the flesh soft and full of fluid, almost empty with the baby so deep in his womb and birth canal.

“Help me stand, I- I do not want to be on my back.” Aerion said with a groan, rolling forward before gasping, his hand flying down to press against his cunt. He felt like the babe was right there about to fall out of him with any sudden movement.

Dunk was by his side after a brief detour to pull on his earlier discarded pants, easily picking him up and moving his weight across the bed in a way that despite all the pain Aerion was experiencing, still sent a rush of heat through him.

“Come on, that’s it.” The Alpha murmured softly as he pulled Aerion upright, shushing him gently against the soft whimper he released. He sat on the edge of the bed and panted against the pain, now a steady roar under his skin. Another contraction hit suddenly, and his belly visibly tightened as the babe stretched his cervix once more, slowly shifting down. He fell forward with a gasp, one hand on his knee and the other on Dunk’s broad shoulder, supporting himself as he pushed.

He could vaguely hear Dunk murmuring to him, low and supportive words as he rubbed a comforting circle over the protruding bone of his ankle. He could not help but think of his father, and the way he would be furious when they announced the birth of the babe due to Aerion’s decision to labour unassisted, would likely smack him upside the head and call him a fool in one breath, before cooing over the babe in another. It would be entirely hypocritical of him, acting like Aerion was unaware of which of his siblings had been born in a birthing bed and which had not.

He and Duncan had spoken about the birth too many times to count. Dunk had been unsure, fearing it was too dangerous for Aerion to do alone, especially with the size of their previous children. Aerion, as a rule, despised the maesters of Summerhall, and had argued that Maegor’s birth in Lys had been the most favourable even despite the complications, simply because they had not been there.

He had bore the discomfort of the maesters touching him for his last two births before putting his foot down with this one

Once the contraction had passed, he snapped his hand out quickly, flicking Duncan in the sensitive skin of his neck, making him gasp.

“What in the Hells was that for?” He asked.

“It’s for your giant fucking child brutalising my cunt right now,” Aerion said as he panted lightly. “God, it’s so big.”

Dunk rested his head against his knee briefly, a small smile on his face. “Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl? I’d like another girl.”

“Maester Merrion thinks it’ll be a girl, but he’s a-“

“Fucking idiot.” They both said at the same time, causing Aerion to huff a small laugh before he whimpered again, the laughter causing the babe to shift painfully.

“It hurts.” he said quietly, vulnerable in a way he had not been before, often too focused on the process itself to ever stop and turn to Dunk and verbalise his thoughts. The very act of allowing the Alpha to be present was frowned upon, and he had outright refused to listen to the Maesters or his father until they allowed Duncan entrance during Arlan’s birth.

“‘m sorry,” Dunk said just as lowly, shifting upright onto his knees. “Let me check you.”

He just nodded, shifting back into his elbows and tilting his pelvis to push his cunt forward. He could smell the Alpha’s arousal spike again before Dunk’s fingers entered him, reaching deep inside to feel for his cervix. Aerion watched as his eyes widened before he withdrew his fingers.

“I can feel your waters, and the head,” he said, awe and adoration heavy in his voice. “You’re doing so well, you’re so close.”

“It feels like it’s only just started,” Aerion replied, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment. “Help me stand.”

Duncan stood back up and helped him sit upright. He had to stop for a moment to push through another contraction, gasping and crying out as he pressed his face against the soft skin of his husband’s abdomen. Once it had passed, he was heaved to his feet and he fell forward, letting the other man embrace him tightly.

The pressure was intense, made even more so by standing upright. He was not even able to take a single step before he had to push again, falling into a deep squat that sent a violent strain through his thighs and hips. He was almost certain the babe was through his cervix now, and tried to push harder to no avail.

He stood back up with a deep panting breath, whacking Dunk’s hand away as he pushed his own against his spine, arching his back and rolling his hips as he waddled to lean heavily against the settee. He struggled to find his grip as he began to push, his body naturally taking over the motions as his mind struggled to catch up. The pressure was peaking and he bent slightly to readjust his grip when he felt a deep and familiar pop from within, his waters finally breaking.

The relief was immense, but extremely short lived, with the thin barrier now removed, the babe began to move down with a vengeance. He let himself tip backwards, his sweat-damp back pressing against the furred softness of Duncan’s chest. He gripped the other man tight as he pushed, and felt his cunt begin to bulge as the head came to rest just inside his cunt, not yet crowning.

He breathed deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying not to lose the thread of control he had. He was desperately thankful for Dunk’s silence, knowing any words from the other man right now would cause him to bite. This was always his least favourite part of his previous labours, the anticipation before the pain reached its peak, knowing that what was next was inevitable.

He grabbed one of Dunk’s hands and brought it down to his cunt, letting the Alpha feel the way he was so full of his baby.

“He’s so close.” Aerion murmured weakly, his voice having grown rough from use throughout the night.

“He? You aren’t going to give me another daughter?” Dunk murmured back, rocking them gently back and forth.

He laughed weakly. “Perhaps next time.”

Their brief conversation was cut off by another contraction, his belly seizing strongly. He let a yell slip free this time and pushed off of Dunk to grip the settee again. He felt himself begin to crown, lips spreading as the solid mass of the baby’s skull began to spread him wide. It was a burning sensation he could never remember until he was experiencing it again, like fire licking at his skin. Even when the contraction ceased, he did not stop pushing, determined to not lose any progress, but was unsuccessful as he felt the babe slip back.

Aerion cried out in displeasure, torn between wanting the babe out and feeling relief at the burning sensation receding. Duncan’s hand on his lower back was a distant feeling as he stared between his legs, the thin blood and amniotic fluid covering his thighs and the swollen redness of his cunt.

How his father did this six times was always beyond him whenever Aerion himself was in the throes of labour.

The contractions seemed to blur into one as he pushed harder, regaining back the lost ground and forcing the babe to crown with a harsh yell. He could barely breathe with all the pain, and it was taking everything in him to not simply collapse in a heap on the floor and curl up on the nearby carpet like a hound in a whelping box.

Aerion did not protest as Duncan’s hand slipped between his legs to pet at the protruding crown briefly, and sighed as the other man pressed yet another kiss to his mating bite.

“Lots of hair on this one.” He said softly.

He just grunt in reply, far too focused on pushing to form a coherent sentence. He fucking knew that, if old wives tales were to be believed, heart burn he had experienced throughout this pregnancy signaled as much. He was pushing so hard, he could feel himself trembling, but the head would not budge, every push being met with no further progress.

He was stuck at the widest point, and he could feel his desperation peaking as a distressed whine filled the air.

“Help me- help me turn around, he’s stuck.” Aerion managed to grind out, reaching back and shifting his weight once more into his husband.

Duncan turned him easily, and he perched on the arm of the settee, one hand gripping the arm next to him and the other on the back of the chair. He spread his legs wide in an attempt to find more room for the babe to go and panted up towards the ceiling. Dunk crouched down onto his knees in between his legs and stared at him until Aerion locked eyes with him. Wordlessly, he began to take deep, exaggerated breaths, encouraging Aerion to do the same.

He followed the instructions, albeit in a less controlled manner, his teeth clenched tight against the seemingly endless wave of pain that laced his entire body.

“You have this, Aerion, you’re going to be fine.” Dunk said quietly, his bright blue eyes serious and sure.

He could only nod wildly in reply, his heartbeat gradually calming down into something less wild as he forced his body to unclench.

“I need to push again.” He whispered back, reaching outwards Dunk for support.

The Alpha rose up on his knees, leaning in closely so they could press their foreheads together. It was sweet, a grounding intimacy he needed desperately. He took a deep breath in and pushed hard into the contraction, pressing his weight against Duncan. He knew he was making so much noise but could not be bothered about it, pulling away from Dunk to arch his back and roll his hips, as if he was trying to run away from the pain.

Finally, he felt the head slip down further, and released a cry of relief.

Once he was past that hurdle, things seemed to progress quickly. He gave one last strong push, the head finally slipped free. He did not bother trying to catch his breath and pushed again. He could not hold back his whining cry as the shoulders bullied their way through, and was thankful that they slid out relatively easily. Duncan was quiet where he was crouched down, and Aerion reached out with one shaking hand, threading his fingers through his husband’s hair as he supported the baby.

“Almost there.” Dunk said, flickering his eyes between Aerion’s face and their baby.

He was crying, he could not stop crying. He desperately needed to lay down, his legs were shaking so violently and his hips ached something fierce, but he was so close. He gripped the arm of the settee and bared down fiercely, Duncan taking the sharp sting of Aerion’s nails against his scalp quietly.

It was with one strong small push and an exhausted yell that their baby was finally born. Duncan caught the babe between his legs and brought it up to rest against his chest, helping him collapse onto the settee at the end of their bed he had been leaning against.

The room was quiet for a brief moment, just his exhausted pants filling the space before the babe released a whining gurgle and started to cry. Duncan laughed brightly, pressing a kiss to the still gore covered cheek of their child.

“A boy, Your Highness, we have a son.” Dunk said, placing the crying babe higher up on his chest.

“I told you Merrion was a fucking idiot,” Aerion said softly, rubbing a hand up and down the newborn's back, cooing softly to quiet the cries. “He’s so small, he did not feel this small five minutes ago.”

“They never stay small, it would be nice to have one that takes after you.” The Alpha said, pulling the low wooden table forward for him to stretch his legs out on and unfurling a blanket, spreading the fabric over them both. He brought the babe to his breast, and he started suckling immediately, sending a rush of deep primal satisfaction through him.

He looked up at Duncan to find the Alpha already looking down at them, a small smile on his face.

He would later blame his vulnerability on the night, the rush of emotions and hormones, and the pain he had been in for the last handful of hours.

“Did I- Are you pleased?” he asked, voice small and earnest in a way it never was.

It was like the question broke the mental dam Duncan had built, as the Alpha’s eyes immediately filled with tears, his lower lip trembling delicately. Aerion could not hold back the soft cooing purr he released, taking one hand off his son's back to stretch it outwards the other man. Dunk immediately pressed into it, letting Aerion cup his face gently and wipe away a tear that had slipped free.

Duncan turned his head, pressing kisses to the palm of his hand before he rested his face against it, breathing in deeply against the scent gland on his wrist.

“You cry every time.” Aerion said, a small smile on his face.

“And I will cry with the next child,” Dunk replied. “Thank you, for- for all of it.”

It was loaded, the simple words holding weight that made him feel choked. They were laced with guilt, Duncan’s regrets about the early days of their relationship a heavy stone the Alpha wore around his neck everyday. There was also awe there, a quiet disbelief that he was allowed this with Aerion.

“There is no one else I would do this for.” Aerion said simply, shifting their son off his breast momentarily so he could suckle on the other.

“What will you name him?” Dunk asked after a moment, seemingly having pulled himself together.

“Daemion, after my namesake's father.” He said, shifting tiredly.

“Daemion,” The Alpha said, trying the name out on his tongue. “I like it.”

“You will continue to like the names, because after Arlan, you are banned.”

“You like that name, don’t be mean.” Dunk chided, running a finger down Daemion’s back, causing the babe to unlatch and lean into the touch.

“Arlan Targaryen,” he said with a sigh, whining softly as the afterbirth shifted within him. “I cannot begin to imagine the life he will lead with that name.”

Duncan just huffed a laugh, and pressed one last kiss to Aerion’s palm before standing. He murmured softly that he was going to fetch a servant, get started on getting the maesters in to check in on him and alert his father. Aerion nodded, squeezing Duncan’s hand before shifting his focus back onto their new son.

He was a small but sturdy babe, thick blond hair that landed somewhere between Duncan’s and his brother’s, though Aerion could see the streaks of Targaryen white around his temples. He squeezed Aerion’s finger tightly as he gurgled softly, his skin ruddy and pink.

Soon, he would pass the afterbirth and the maesters would come flooding into the room, his father in tow with a lecture on his tongue, cut short briefly at the sight of the healthy babe.

Soon, his other children would follow, creeping into their chambers under strict instruction to behave from Duncan, who would have Rhaena tucked in his arms, the soon to be one year old blinking sleepily with disinterest as Arlan spoke a mile a minute despite the late hour, while his sweet Maegor quietly asked if he was well, the concerned twinge to his scent almost out of place for a seven year old.

Soon, he would lock eyes with Duncan as Arlan started to fade, fighting sleep every step of the way, while their eldest would already be curled up at the foot of their bed. He would watch as the Alpha supported their sleeping daughter with one arm while his other hand combed through the three year old’s hair, and Dunk would mouth I love you as he held Daemion to his breast once more.

Soon, he would think I want this forever.