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Positive

About: Quite unexpectedly, Chris Evans finds out he’s going to be a father after a first-person pov narrator confesses she’s pregnant. They haven’t been dating for long, but they’ve known each other forever. The only problem is, the baby might not be his.

Word Count: 4,974

Warning(s): Nothing nsfw, but illusions to sex

Requested By: Anon. As always, I appreciate the inspiration endlessly. Sorry this is so long- I just had a great time writing this and I think it shows. Please feel free to submit any reqs!

“Hey,” Chris said it like a question. His raspy voice broke a long silence so suddenly it startled me. He stood over me with his hand hovering just far enough from the door that his key didn’t connect with the lock, looking just as surprised as I was. I hadn’t realized it was snowing until I saw the white flakes speckling his hair and melting into his dark lashes.

I’d come over without even thinking Chris might not be home. I turned his front door’s knob in disbelief until the realization of how utterly alone I felt struck me so hard it knocked me to the floor. So there I sat under the overhang, back pressed against his door with my knees pulled tight to my chest without a thought as to what I’d do when he came home.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a soft tone. His blue eyes were so gentle as his brow furrowed and his lips tucked down in a frown, creating harsh creases all over his concerned face. It was enough to cause tears to swell in my eyes. There was no point trying to hide it considering my cheeks were already stained and my eyes were puffy beyond repair. Chris could tell by the slightest tremble in my voice anyway. Still, I buried my face in my knees.

A dull thud drew my attention to some grocery bags that landed next to me. Chris kneeled down to my level and hooked a finger under my chin to lift my gaze to his. “Let’s head in, darling. It’s cold,” he said with a smile so small it didn’t even round out the apples of his cheeks, although they were as pink as his chilly nose. “I just bought some more of that hot chocolate you love.” He tried to entice me, gesturing to the bags at his feet. My eyes darted between the groceries and his stare, giving me the kind of look that warmed me from the inside out, and I realized just how much I felt like a cornered animal he was trying to catch at the same time.

Chris’s hand slowly reached to caress my face, his thumb gliding across my cheek which had been numbed by the cold way before then to wipe some of the tears away. “Dodger’s probably waiting on the couch for you, too. He’s been missing your cuddles. God knows I have,” he admitted, biting his chapped bottom lip. The guilty feeling in my stomach took a nosedive. While I’d been selfishly locking myself away from the world, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do, I hadn’t even considered Chris sitting home alone. Sending me countless texts asking where I was. Calling me only for it to go unanswered. Knocking on the door I never opened.

“I was trying to give you the space you clearly wanted,” he continued after clearing his throat, stretching to scratch the back of his neck. “Although I was starting to consider breaking into your place, if I’m honest.” Chris laughed dryly at his half-joke, although I knew he was only deflecting. Trying to prioritize me over the angry feelings in his stomach. I couldn’t blame him, if he’d disappeared on me for a few days I’d have the same heartbroken look in my eyes.

Before I could come up with any words to say, anything to explain my absence or how exactly I’d ended up crying at his doorstep, my hand found his chest. My palm pressed lightly as I tried to feel his heartbeat. It was always strong and steadier than anything else in this world, which seemed to be all the reassurance I’d ever need. Through all of his layers, I couldn’t feel it. I felt like we had so much more than a thick coat between us.

I leaned my forehead to his so we were close enough that our noses brushed. “I’m so sorry,” I confessed, feeling part of the weight lift off of my heaving chest. I tried to breathe through sobs that felt like they’d drown me if they got out as I continued, “It was so selfish Chris, but I-“ I paused to breathe again, squeezing my eyes shut. I couldn’t do it like this and if I kept looking into those blue eyes I’d unravel any second. “I need to tell you something, but I had to come to terms with it myself first.”

“We’ve never kept things from each other,” he whispered with a quivering voice. I realized how scary it must’ve been for him then, receiving some half-assed text about needing time to be alone and think only for me to drop off the face of the earth for a few days before showing up at his stoop in tears. How much I hurt him. I must’ve felt as lost to him as I did to myself.

“We’ve never gone through something like this before,” I insisted, matching his intensity.

Chris looked at me with a determined fire in his eyes I might have missed most of all before stealing a kiss I would’ve given him anyway, the kind that whispered love that always carried some forgiveness, everything I desperately needed. I smiled against his lips as I realized that, as absolutely petrified as I was to tell him, he’d at least hear me out. That’s all I could ask.

“Then let’s go figure it out together,” he said, pulling me up off the step and ushering me through the door before his groceries froze any more.

As soon as the door swung open, I was met with a barrage of sticky kisses and excited scratches that nearly knocked me off my feet.

I bent down to Dodger’s level, scratching behind his ears and along his side until he relaxed and melted at my feet so I could rub his belly. “Dodge, that’s no way to treat a lady,” Chris chastised, partly joking. He’d given up on getting his dog to leave me alone or at least calm down when I walked through the door a long time ago, but it bothered him when Dodger didn’t mind his manners.

“I’ll go make some of that cocoa and meet you on the couch,” he said with a heavy sigh, holding the groceries close to his chest. I nodded, not really in the position to protest Chris buying me more time.

I sat crisscrossed on his plush couch as I waited for Chris. Dodger joined me, jumping onto the couch and laying with his head in my lap. He gave me those wide puppy eyes that reminded me way too much of his owner when he wanted something, so I started scratching his favorite spot again while his tail beat back and forth. He’d missed the company and, apparently, so had Chris.

It hadn’t been very long, but empty beer cans dented from Chris’s grip littered the coffee table. He’d left the game on and I suspected he hadn’t shut ESPN off in days. I could see him lounging here, completely absentmindedly gluing his tired eyes to the television, watching the same football replay over and over as he cracked another cold one. He’d said before that he just liked the background noise sometimes, when he didn’t want to think too much. A fine layer of dust was collecting on the t.v. stand, but not around this one photo. The frame was dotted with fingerprints and the dust hadn’t settled, looking like it’d been moved many times.

It one of my favorites of Chris and I. We were maybe six or seven in it, based on how many teeth my grin was missing. I was sitting on a swing while Chris focused on spinning me so the chains would twist together and it looked like he was just about to let me go, sending me flying in a dizzying whirl as the swing unfurled. We’d take turns doing that until we were so dizzy we couldn’t stand, or until my hair got stuck in the braided chains and I broke down in tears. I’d found the picture in one of his mother’s photo albums and framed it for him as a birthday present a few years back.

“That’s my favorite picture. You look so happy in it,” Chris commented offhandedly, walking into the living room with two mugs in hand. He handed one to me as he took a sip before putting his on the coffee table, pushing some cans aside with a sigh. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting company,” he muttered, though we both knew we’d seen each other at worse. Chris squeezed between my back and the couch’s arm, wrapping his legs around my hips so I sat in between his thighs and his feet rested on the other side of my knees.

I laid my head on his chest, looking up at him to see that his eyes were already resting on me. He was never able to hide his feelings from them very well. Now, they looked conflicted. Glassy like a settled sea, but the storm wasn’t too far away. I felt like I was setting sail, vulnerable to his potentially choppy waters.

I pulled a blanket off of the back of the couch and over our legs as if it offered any protection. I wasn’t sure where to start so I just did. “Do you remember when we were 16 and you were beyond wasted-“

“Odds aren’t looking good,” Chris cut me off, a chuckle that didn’t leave his lips reverberating in his chest.

I took a deep breath and tried again. “You showed up to my house so you wouldn’t get in any more trouble with your mom,” I told him, hoping it would jog his memory without having to say it out loud.

“Sounds like every Friday night,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“You told me you wanted to have a family with me,” I spit, unable to swallow the feeling swelling in my chest anymore.

Chris sucked in a tight breath through gritted teeth. I felt every muscle in him tighten. “You- you know about that?” he asked, running a stressed hand through his hair.

I nodded, turning to press my forehead into the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, hoping to will the waterworks away, as I felt left on the ledge.

Chris let out a long exhale before he spoke again.“Well, you should’ve led with that. I’ll never forget it,” he said with a sincerity I didn’t expect.

“Tell me that story,” I pleaded, careful to keep my voice as level as I could.

“You’re really gonna make me relive that embarrassment? You’re the one with a lot of explaining to do anyway,” he insisted stubbornly.

“Chris just... Please.” I reached for his hand that rested on my knee, giving it a tight squeeze. I didn’t know what I hoped to convey, but he seemed to understand anyway.

He was quiet for a moment, leaving me feeling like I was suspended on a tightrope again, walking a fine line between uncertainty and vulnerability, preying Chris would be there to catch me. He chewed his bottom lip as he mulled it over before he caved with a defeated sigh. “Alright, but only because you asked so nicely.”

Chris wrapped his arms around my shoulders, completely enveloping me in him. He was so warm I was tempted to kick off the blanket, but I was too comfortable to move, as I usually was with him. Even with so much weighing on my mind, he still brought me a familiar ease I hadn’t found anywhere other than in his arms. I could feel his heart thumping again, much to my relief, until he cleared his throat and started to speak.

“It was really late at night, or early in the morning, I guess. I just left Ryan Walsh’s party and I felt like I’d been drowned in a keg,” Chris started, but I couldn’t help interrupting him. I’d been playing this memory in my own mind for days now, picking it apart for an answer only to find that I needed to see it through his lens.

“You looked like it too,” I cut in with a dry laugh.

Chris grinned, his cheeks burning with an adolescent boy’s embarrassment. “Yeah, I remember being so sweaty. It was gross and I was so self-conscious about it, being in such close proximity, you know. I climbed the tree to your terrace so your mom wouldn’t know. Looking back, I’m lucky I didn’t fall, but I’d done it so many times that wasn’t even a thought,” Chris rolled his eyes at his former self’s invulnerability complex.

“You were so mad at me,” he indulged in the memory with a small chuckle, probably recalling how angry I looked. He always thought it was funny, how much that feeling didn’t match my face, especially when I looked at him. “Telling me off for being so irresponsible and the whole nine yards, but you let me in anyway. Offered to share your bed even though it was only a twin and we had to squish together. I smelled like I’d just gotten out of practice if we showered in cheap beer, but you smelled like strawberries and vanilla.” He paused, taking a deep breath buried in my hair before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You still do.”

I smiled softly as his grip around me tightened. “I wrapped my arms around you, just like this,” he continued. “So you wouldn’t fall off... and because I liked the idea of falling asleep with you in my arms. Never would’ve admitted it though. Hell, I couldn’t get the courage to tell you how I felt until I was what? Thirty-something?” Chris judged his past self with the bitterness hindsight often offered.

“But I wouldn’t let you, right?” I intervened in the story again, trying to keep him on track. “I remember whisper-yelling at you so hard my throat hurt. It always scared me, thinking about what could go wrong you when you hung out with those boys. And I’ll admit I was terribly jealous of those girls, too.”

Chris’s smile widened again, a cocky smirk resting on his lips as he teased me about like liking him even though we both knew he felt the same way even back then. “You’re right, though,” he said, a sudden seriousness returning to his tone. “Then, I don’t know why, but I got all worked up and said you weren’t my mother.”

I remembered the way that comment stung. He’d said it like an insult, like I was the one he was trying to run away from. When we entered high school, it was like everyone noticed Chris for the first time. I was afraid I’d lose him to this new life, to all of these new friends. After all, I hadn’t been invited to Ryan Walsh’s house and Chris hadn’t bothered to take me. When he compared me to his mother, I felt as if I was the killjoy he couldn’t wait to run to someone else’s house to get away from.

“It was dark, just the moonlight through your window. You know, it would’ve been awfully romantic if you didn’t nearly snap your neck to give me this look like you wanted to break mine,” Chris paused to clear his throat, trying to recover from a joke that didn’t exactly land. “Then you turned to face the wall again and pulled away from me, although you couldn’t get very far. It was so quiet I could’ve sworn I heard your heart crack and it sure felt like mine did.”

Neither of us spoke again for a minute, the only noises being the sport’s announcers remarks from the television’s low volume and Dodger whining since I’d stopped scratching his ears, lost in a memory.

Chris’s arms fell to his sides as one hand reached to scratch his beard, a nervous habit I knew meant he was stalling. This was the part that was mortifying for him. “And I don’t know if it was because I was drunk or if I knew I wouldn’t go to bed thinking you were that mad at me, but I could be so honest without having to look at those pretty eyes of yours,” he said with a breathy voice, just barely above a whisper. Although no one else was here, I knew this was only meant for me to know.

“I never really thought about it until then and even in that moment the words were falling out of my mouth as quickly as I realized it myself,” Chris mumbled, trying to choose his words carefully. “Suddenly I was telling you that, someday, I wanted to come home with whatever you needed to satisfy some weird craving after running to the grocery store at one in the morning and I wanted to see you, swollen feet elevated and all, with my baby in your belly, as if that wasn’t the weirdest way I could’ve possibly said it,” he punctuated with a nervous laugh. When I didn’t speak, he kept talking to fill the silence. “But I thought you’d fallen asleep by then and by the time I woke up I was sober enough to know it was humiliating so I dropped it until... until now, I guess.”

I didn’t sleep at all that night, actually. It was when I realized the way I loved Chris wasn’t just friendly or in a brotherly sort of way since that sounded so nice to me, too. Part of me knew I wanted that with him and I think I have ever since. It was the first time that I thought maybe, just maybe, Chris might like me like that, too. But then he pretended like it never happened, he kept treating me like a sister, and I wrote it off as nothing more than another drunk rambling. I tried to forget about it, but he planted something in my head I couldn’t just uproot.

“You still mean that?” I asked tentatively, trying to hide the desperation behind my shaky voice. I couldn’t stand to look at Chris, unable to confront the hurricane I knew I’d see in those temperamental ocean eyes once he put it together.

“Absolutely,” he insisted, before the hesitation I feared to hear crept in. “Don’t get me wrong, you know I want a family too, but are you sure we’re ready to do this now? I mean, I know we’ve known each other our whole lives, but it wasn’t until pretty recently that we uh-”

“I’m pregnant, Chris. Whether we’re ready or not,” I spilled, incapable of listening to everything I’d thought already again. The tears I’d been holding back finally fell as I buried my face against his chest. My hands gravitated toward my stomach, palms pressing into my bloated belly. I knew it’d be a while until I felt anything, but I had to remind myself that I wasn’t alone in this.

“You’re sure?” Chris asked, though it wasn’t in disbelief. It was more uncertain, like he was trying to navigate uncharted waters I felt like I was drowning in.

“Positive,” I insisted with a vigorous nod, “I just- I don’t know if you’re the dad,” I confessed, muffled by his sweater.

The guilt had been eating away at me for days now, ever since my mom suggested I take the test and it came out positive. And the next five after that. It wasn’t odd for me to miss a period, but having an upset stomach for nearly a month straight made me nervous that something was wrong. I just didn’t feel right, but I still couldn’t believe it in the first place. Chris and I had been so careful, except for once. Then I did the math and realized that time wasn’t long after my breakup.

Chris wrapped his arms around my waist, tucking his fingers under my palms to hold my hands. “Of course I am,” he said softly with a simultaneous sturdiness. I stretched to look up at him, furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips carving creases into his face. His eyes though, they were more worried than upset, more resolute than angry.

“No, you don’t understand,” I told him, my frantic mind trying to rephrase it. “It wasn’t very long after I was last with my ex that we…”

I’d shown up to Chris’s house, knocking on his door. He answered in his boxers, scraggly beard and tired eyes. He pinched his nose in between his eyes as he tried to clear the sleep from his throat. “Do you know how early it is?” Chris asked, checking his wrist for the watch he’d taken off before crawling under his covers. When he realized it wasn’t there, he looked at me properly. I was worse for wear, with the tear streaks staining my cheeks, puffy eyes, and disheveled clothes. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I could only manage to toss and turn. I had a certain man, something another had said, stuck in my head. “What’s up?” Chris asked, still groggy but concerned.

“He broke up with me,” I said for the first time out loud, an oppressive weight lifting off of my chest. Chris had been telling me to leave him for nearly as long as we’d been together, which was only a handful of months. He said he didn’t treat me as well as I deserved to be, even though everyone else seemed to think I’d lucked out. Except me.

“W-what? Why?” Chris asked with a slack jaw. “Sorry,” he sighed, scratching his chin as he regained composure. “I just… wasn’t expecting that. Come on in.” He stepped aside to usher me through the door. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tugged me to the couch. Chris didn’t ask any other questions, never being one to pry, but I answered him anyway.

“I said your name,” I admitted, unable to meet his eye as my cheeks felt like radiators. “We were… you know. Right in the middle of it and I said your name,” I laughed, not even nervous if I came off as unhinged when Chris broke out in a fit of giggles, too. “He got so mad, Chris, so furious,” I said as I tried to catch my breath.

I started crying, at first from laughing so hard. And then the situation really hit me and I started sobbing. “He broke up with me. Told me he was tired of me being in love with someone else… wanting to be with someone else,” I professed, unable to stop myself in spite of the crippling embarrassment. It was terrible, saying all of this to the person it was about, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.

Chris grasped my hands in his, catching my attention. I saw that fire in his watery eyes, catching me completely off guard. “Do you?” he asked with a measured tone. I couldn’t meet his eyes until he lifted my chin so I had to. “Do you want to be with me?” Chris repeated as if it was something he hadn’t considered before, just inches from me now.

“In every sense of the words,” I admitted earnestly. For years, it never seemed to work out for one reason or another. Chris was away filming for months, one of us was in a relationship, neither of us had the nerve. But now, sitting on this couch, the stars in our eyes aligned. Before I knew it, Chris’s lips were on mine, my hands were tugging at what little he had left on, and that fire in his eyes sparked a desperation in my chest and I knew we couldn’t resist each other anymore.

That morning, I woke up in his bed. It was something that happened many times before, but this was the first time our clothes were in a pile on the other side of the floor and we were just as tangled together between his sheets. “I love you,” Chris told me and, even though it wasn’t close to the only time I’ve heard him say those words, they held a new intensity.

“Anyway,” I said, shaking my mind of the memory. “I looked into fetal paternity tests. They’re noninvasive, really nothing more than a blood test, so we can-”

“I understand what you’re saying,” Chris insisted, squeezing my hands. “I’ll say it again so maybe you’ll understand me.” He rested his chin on my shoulder, eyes gazing down at our hands resting over my growing stomach.

“I’ll go with you to every appointment just for a second of hearing the heartbeat and let you squeeze my hand until it breaks during labor. I’ll change diapers in the middle of the night and fight with you over getting their first word to be dada instead of mama and keep their little picture in my wallet. I’ll stay up when they have nightmares and need someone to hold them so they know it’s okay and when we’re waiting for them to come home when they’re out way past curfew. I’ll hold their hand when they learn to walk and take the training wheels off of their bike and teach them to drive,” Chris rattled off every little thing he could think to look forward to. It made my heart swell, imaging dropping them off for their first day of school and attending their graduation and everything in between, hand in hand with Chris the whole time.

Buried in my fears, all I’d been able to find were the worsts of it. Having to raise a child on my own, trying to put food on the table, making sure they had someone to watch them after school, enduring every struggle my own mother did as a single parent. I knew it would be okay if that was the case, after all I think I turned out alright. But having Chris by my side during all of it, just like I had my whole life, was too good for me to even allow myself to think.

“What I’m trying to say,” Chris said with a severe sincerity, “is that I don’t care whether or not I’m their biological father, I’ll still be there for both of you. Even if I’m not, I’ve wanted to have a family with you since we were kids ourselves. Even if he is and he wants to be a part of this kid’s life, too. Even if- God forbid, but even if we figure out we’re better off as friends, that won’t change.”

I stretched to look at Chris, barely fractions of an inch away from him. “I’m so sorry I disappeared on you. It wasn’t fair, I’m just- This is so much to ask of you. I wasn’t ready to risk losing you when our relationship is just starting,” I voiced every worry that’d been tugging at my heart, my voice cracking as the tears rose again. My hands left the grasp of his, bracing myself on his knees.

“Darling,” Chris tried to calm me, reaching for my cheek as he wiped away my tears. “That’s the best part. This is only the beginning. We’ve got so much ahead of us and by that I mean you, me, and this little one.” His strong hand fell to my stomach, reaching above the hem of my shirt and rubbing slow circles around my navel. It gave me goosebumps and this feeling I thought I’d like to have forever.

“I mean, sure, we only started dating recently,” Chris shrugged too nonchalantly for talking about bringing a life into this world, “but it’s not like we’ve only known each other for a month. I’ve been waiting for you, and for this, for my whole life.” Chris pressed a kiss against my cheek. “Listen, I love you so much. This baby, they’re going to be a part of you, a part of us, and I’ve got enough love to go around.”

“Thank you,” I said, even though it didn’t feel like nearly enough. I strained my neck to kiss Chris. “I love you, too,” I said, although I meant much more. I didn’t have the words to express the way my chest felt.

“I think I had my suspicions anyway,” Chris remarked with a cocked eyebrow and a smug smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah?” I asked with a bit of an incredulous laugh. I guess Chris knew me better than anybody else, but I didn’t even know myself. There was no way, but somehow he seemed insistent.

“Yeah, you’ve never tossed up my breakfast before,” Chris stood his ground, referencing last week’s incident. What I now recognized as morning sickness had been toying with my appetite for weeks, but I was always in the mood for his homemade pancakes, even when I suspected it was probably risky. At the time, I claimed food poisoning, but hindsight is 20/20. “Knew it had to be something other than my cooking,” Chris said, sounding awfully pleased with himself.

“Either way, it’s probably your fault,” I joked, to which Chris only shrugged, taking a break from rubbing my belly to pat Dodger in between his ears.

“At least we’ve got a lot of practice with this one,” he said, jutting his chin out to gesture at the dog laying in my lap. Dodger lifted his head and cocked it sideways, as if he was professing his innocence. “Yeah, I’m talking about you, Bubba,” Chris laughed, his chest rumbling like thunder. “Looks like you’re not gonna be an only child for much longer.”

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