Mr. President Has A Baby Bump

~~Jay~~

President Jay, after reviewing the reports, I’m sorry to inform you of a rather… unusual development. You are….”

“Oh, for God’s sake, stop beating around the bush. I don’t have all day,” I snapped, gripping the edge of the desk. My patience was wearing thin and this doctor’s dramatic pauses weren’t helping.

He swallowed visibly sweating. “Sir… you’re pregnant.”

I blinked.

Pregnant?

I must have misheard.

And then God help me I laughed. A full-bellied, incredulous laugh. “Ha ha aaaa~~~ doctor, can you please stop trying to pull a prank on me?” I said, struggling to control my laughter. “Me? Pregnant? You must be drunk or desperate for a raise. I’m a man, an able man, with a properly working dick. Do I look like I have a uterus to you?”

The doctor didn’t laugh.

That was the part that stopped me, he can’t be serious right…?

He just stood there pale, sweating, blinking fast like he wanted to disappear into the floor. I could almost hear his heartbeat echoing louder than the stupid wall clock in the room.

“I’m serious, President,” he said quietly. “We ran the tests three times. Bloodwork, ultrasound, hormone panels. There’s… no mistake.”

My smile faded. No. This is not happening.

This is some twisted prank from the my enemies. A scandal setup. Or maybe some weird side effect of the supplements my bodyguard swore would boost my stamina.

I sat down. For the first time, I had to sit.

“You’re saying I have… a fetus inside me?” I asked, my voice lower now. Colder.

“Four weeks along,” he said, gently sliding the folder closer to me like he was offering a peace treaty. “The growth is… contained in a sac positioned slightly above the bladder, connected through vascular nodes we can’t fully explain yet. We’ve contacted specialists. But this is real, sir.”

I flipped the folder open. And what I saw nearly made me throw up.

The scan. The black -and- white ghost of something curled up in a tight dot. My name printed boldly across the top: Jayden J. Hale. Age 26. Male.

My hands started to sweat.

“How…?” I whispered.

The doctor hesitated, then adjusted his glasses. “We believe this may be a rare genetic mutation perhaps even a new evolution. But…” He paused. “There’s also something… else.”

I looked up, eyes narrowed. “What else?”

“There’s a second heartbeat, Mr. President.”

My world tilted. There are two living humans inside my body… no let me restate that… there are two humans inside my stomach. I’m a man and am certain of that.

I don’t remember standing. I don’t remember knocking the chair over. All I know is that I was storming out of that office, my heart racing, a million thoughts screaming in my head.

I need answers. I need to know what the hell is happening to me. And most importantly… how in hell was that even possible.

I leaned against the corridor wall just outside the medical wing, my vision tunneling. My breath came in short, sharp bursts as the fluorescent light above me buzzed like an insect in my ear.

Four weeks.

My brain did the math on autopilot.

No.

No, no, no.

I gritted my teeth, dragging a shaky hand down my face.

It can’t be that night.

That stupid night a month ago my birthday. I’d gone out to spite my father, to forget the weight of what he dropped on me like it was a goddamn gift.

One Month Earlier

“Happy early birthday, son,” my father had said, glass of scotch in one hand, contract folder in the other. “You’ll be engaged in four weeks.”

I laughed.

Actually laughed.

“Engaged to who, Dad? I haven’t dated anyone in my whole life.”

“Dahlia Fisher,” he said smoothly, like it was already sealed. “She’s perfect. Elegant, obedient, rich enough to match our name. And her father is about to sign a merger that’ll give us full control of the London telecom grid. It’s time, Jay. You’re the future.”

I stared at him, the scotch in my hand trembling slightly.

“You didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

“You’re 25, Jayden. Almost 26 in a few hours. What you want doesn’t matter anymore.”

The glass shattered in my hand before I realized I’d thrown it.

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” I spat, storming past the butlers and out the front door before I did something worse. I was so angry that all I wanted to do was something that he was against, something that will make extremely angry and the only thing that came to my mind was me going clubbing and getting drink. And I did just that.

The club was loud, chaotic and perfect.

The bodies moved like a tide, all sweat and desire. I threw myself into it, my shirt half-unbuttoned, expensive watch catching the strobe lights as I danced with whoever pulled me in. Girls wrapped their arms around me. I kissed one, let another grind against me. I didn’t care. I needed to feel something that was mine, even if it was fake.

I climbed onto a table near the bar, lifting a bottle of tequila.

“Drinks on me!” I shouted.

The room roared in approval. I drank. I danced. I kissed a girl whose name I forgot the second she turned away. And that’s when I saw him.

Standing at the edge of the crowd, untouched by it.

Tall. Dark-haired. Lean but broad-shouldered. Inky eyes that didn’t look away when they met mine. He wasn’t smiling. Just watching.

I jumped down, weaving through the crowd toward him.

“You’re looking at me like I owe you something,” I said, half-drunk, fully annoyed.

“You owe yourself something,” he said. His voice deep. Smooth. Dangerous.

I scoffed. “I don’t do guys.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” he replied, taking a slow step closer. “But you’re not looking at anyone else anymore.”

He was right.

I should’ve walked away.

But something about him pulled me like a current.

“You’re arrogant,” I muttered.

“You’re drunk,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. “And angry.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And you’re annoying.”

“Then shut me up.”

I didn’t think.

I grabbed his shirt, yanked him forward, and kissed him.

Hard.

His mouth was warm, slightly open he met the kiss without hesitation, like he’d been waiting for it. And God… the way he kissed. It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming. I didn’t know what came over me, but I kissed a man like me which was stupid but then I remember if my father finds out about this he will be so angry that it might make him want to kill me. The thought of his angry face made me do something more stupid…..

“Do you want to get a room with me?” I asked the handsome stranger. He looked surprised.

“I thought you don’t do men.”

“Indeed, I don’t. But I want to do you,” I replied with a haughty smile.

I didn’t know if it was the tequila talking but I didn’t fucking care.

He smiled back, and I added, “You look good, so yeah… I’ll do you too.”