“Mizuki… Mizuki!” Gegero nuzzled into Mizuki’s neck, moaning right against his ear, lavishing it with his tongue. Gently, unlike the way his cock mercilessly drove into his wife. “Nnh. I love it– I love you.”
“Mmn–” Mizuki twisted his head off of the pillows cushioning him. “Sshh! Quiet, seriously. You’ll wake– fuck, wake Kitaro up, ah!”
It’d be fine. Kitaro was a heavy sleeper. Plus, it wasn’t fair to just blame him. Mizuki was just as loud. He always complained about being sore the next day, covered neck to calf in hickeys and bite marks, but he never told Gegero to stop. “Mmn… ah, so good… You’ll— you’ll look so good.”
He just couldn’t help himself. His love was intense– something that Mizuki desperately needed. Sweet nothings twisted up in filthy dirty talk, the kind that made Mizuki’s skin glow red with embarrassment. Hot and heavy, and with an afterglow so carefully tender it lulled Mizuki right to sleep, every time. Cold fingertips brushed along Mizuki’s thin stomach, stroking it fondly, as if something was hiding underneath it. He leaned forward and laid his chest fully against Mizuki’s back, languidly tracing the scar on his shoulder with his tongue.
“Mm…” Gegero spoke against his skin, peppering kisses along the back of his neck. “Want you pregnant already.”
“Huh?” Mizuki was easy to read, and it was obvious that was the last thing he expected to hear from Gegero.
Using Mizuki’s surprise as encouragement, Gegero kept going. “Wanna see you get bigger and softer. You’re already such a good mom… What’s one more for us?”
“Hold on, Gegero–” Before Mizuki could assert that he can’t get pregnant, like Gegero knew he would, he fucked into Mizuki just right, made his back arch like a crescent moon, and his wife couldn’t do anything else but writhe and moan under him. “Ah! Ah, fuck!”
“I’ll do it– I’ll put a baby in you.” Gegero lifted himself up, pulling Mizuki with him. Mizuki ended up firmly seated on his lap, and Mizuki slowly lifted himself up, whether to ride him or try to run off, Gegero didn’t know or care. Gegero’s long, slender hands gripped onto Mizuki’s trimmed waist with enough force to bruise, pulling him right back down, and with renewed vigor, Gegero fucked into him like an animal with a purpose. To claim, to mate, to breed. The new angle made Gegero’s cock drive deeper, and Mizuki keened through it, leaking cock bouncing against his abdomen.
Gegero imagined it– Mizuki’s stomach swollen and chest heavy, his muscles exchanged for plump weight, his body changing to carry his young. Gegero kissed Mizuki’s ear, whispered into it. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to be so full of me, full of my child.”
“Ah, aah, a– ah!” It looked like the gears started turning in Mizuki’s mind, coaxed to follow Gegero’s lead, and he nodded, desperate. “I– Fuck… yes, yes, please.”
His wife always got what he wanted when he begged, and tonight was no exception. Gegero tilted Mizuki’s head, coaxed him into a wet, messy kiss, and his experienced hand pumped Mizuki’s cock until it spilled onto his fingers. Gegero chased after his own pleasure, quickly found it in Mizuki’s tight heat, and he pushed himself as deep as he could to fill Mizuki to the brim with his seed.
“I love you…” Gegero panted, affectionately licking away the sweat and tears dripping down Mizuki’s face, delicious. “You did so good. Always so good for me.”
When Mizuki didn’t respond, Gegero blinked, felt along Mizuki’s body for a reaction. Nothing. “Mizuki? Mizuki…? Ah.”
Mizuki was out like a light, eyes shut, breathing slow, and completely limp in Gegero’s arms, the poor thing. Gegero hummed, content, always pleased that his lover was more than satisfied each time they had sex. It was better like this; Mizuki didn’t have nightmares when he was fucked past the brink of consciousness. It was one of the reasons that Gegero liked doing it so often; the other being that Mizuki was simply too erotic to ignore.
Another low hum, and Gegero laid Mizuki down with him, pulling a long, heavy blanket, a wedding gift from Sunakake-Babaa, over their bodies. He kept his arms wrapped around his middle, and Gegero’s heart fluttered at how perfectly they fit together, like they were always meant to be. Legs intertwined, Gegero closed his eyes and dreamed of their family growing bigger.
Surely Mizuki wouldn’t mind that Gegero slept peacefully with his cock still buried in him.
Mizuki did mind.
Footsteps– a slow gait, leather against wood. Gegero visibly perked up, knowing that his wife was near. He lowered his spoon, raised it to his lips to taste his newest attempt at soup. Too hot– he stuck out his tongue at the sheer heat on his tongue, though what he could taste was already leagues better than his last batch. Mizuki worked so hard, it was only fair that he tried to pick up the slack at home.
“I’m home,” Mizuki called as he pushed open the shoji, sliding his shoes off as he stepped inside. He set down his briefcase and closed the door behind him.
“Welcome back!” Gegero turned off the stove and rushed to meet Mizuki by the door, leaning down expectantly for a kiss, lips pursed and eyes closed. Lips met his own, though Gegero could tell by how quick and chaste the kiss was that Mizuki was tired. When he opened his eyes, Mizuki was exactly as he expected, heavy eyes and deep frown.
“Where’s Kitaro?” Mizuki rolled his neck, and the resounding crack from it made Gegero grimace. Human bones shouldn’t make that noise.
“In the bedroom, sleeping,” Gegero replied, making a note to give Mizuki a much needed massage later. “How was your day?”
Mizuki made a face, all scrunched up, like he ate a lemon, and Gegero had to resist the urge to pinch his puffed up cheeks.
“It was fine.” Mizuki’s upper lip curled up into that forced half-smile of his, so Gegero immediately knew that wasn’t true.
“Really?” Gegero asked with a tilt of his head, unconvinced.
“Yes, really.” Mizuki insisted, sighing. “Look, I had a long day, okay?”
Gegero wanted to pry, but the irritated look on Mizuki’s convinced him otherwise. It could wait until Mizuki was in a better mood, he supposed. “Hmm. I made dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.” Mizuki sighed again, pulling off his tie as he made his way to their bedroom, no doubt looking to their son for comfort. Gegero understood, being with Kitaro was its own form of healing. There truly was nothing better than Kitaro’s toothless smile and baby smell.
The boy was two now, and Mizuki was initially confused on why he was still so small. Humans aged much faster, it seemed, which made sense, given their lifespan. Gegero told Mizuki that their people aged at their own pace, each child facing their own milestones whenever they desired, one never quite like the other. While Mizuki didn’t understand, he accepted it, like he had to with the rest of the differences between their species. If Gegero recalled, it wasn’t until he was around ten that he first tried to speak– Kitaro was quicker than him, in that regard.
Gegero followed Mizuki a few moments after. He found Mizuki sitting cross-legged by Kitaro's miniature futon, cradling Kitaro to his chest, and Gegero smiled as he walked closer to be with his family. He settled right behind Mizuki, his chest to Mizuki’s back. Warm, the complete opposite of his own people. When he held Mizuki, it was like having the sun in his arms.
Gegero could sit like this forever, his personal paradise, and he was half-tempted to fall asleep right then and there until he heard faint sniffling. Thinking it was Kitaro, he propped his head on Mizuki’s shoulder to look at his son, but the boy was still sleeping, had barely even moved. Turning his head, he found the real culprit.
“Ah– Mizuki? What’s wrong?” Gegero asked, poorly concealing his panic. Mizuki didn’t cry easily, not even in the face of danger. Something must have happened at work, something dire, serious. Protective instincts on high alert, he wanted to fix it, to soothe his lover, to get rid of whatever made him this upset. “Mizuki. What is it? Are you hurt?”
“No– no, I’m sorry… it’s just…” Mizuki sniffled, a small tear streaking his skin, and it shattered Gegero’s heart. Mizuki heaved, blinking away some of the tears stuck to his eyelids. Gegero caught them with his thumbs, gently stroking his cheeks. Mizuki’s body wracked through his sobbing, and Gegero was this close to running to Mizuki’s workplace to rip the roof building off with his bare hands– “Kitaro is so cute.”
…Huh?
“Really?” Gegero asked, searching for any signs that Mizuki wasn’t telling the truth. To his surprise, he didn’t find any. “That’s all?”
Another sniffle. “Mm. He’s so cute, Gegero… He has your eyes, and Iwako-san’s hair, and the chubbiest cheeks I’ve ever seen and…” He turned his head, and Gegero’s heart nearly stopped at his wet eyes, his flushed cheeks, his weepy smile. “I love him, and– and I love you so much.”
Mizuki was a different man when they first met. A man broken by the society he so desperately tried to live by, living each day striving to succeed, to survive. Gegero saw what humans were capable of– that they would do the same to their own kind was unfathomable, but the scars left on Mizuki’s body and mind were proof enough.
Gegero knew he wasn’t the solution to Mizuki’s hardships. If he and Kitaro played could bring Mizuki some happiness, that was good enough for him. His love, as strong and unconditional as it was, only played a part in Mizuki's healing. He could tell that Mizuki was changing. There were more good days than bad. He was smiling more, drinking less, and, most importantly, Mizuki was finding out who he truly was.
Mizuki’s heart was bigger than he let on. Where once was a heavy, suffocating guilt laid love so warm that Gegero could feel it under his fingertips.
While Mizuki quietly, happily cried, Gegero lavished him with kiss after kiss, listening to the melody of his heartbeat.
It was rare for Gegero to wake up first. Even on his days off, Mizuki was an early riser, much to Gegero’s protests. It was as if the man never rested.
Today, though, as Gegero sat up and stretched, he noticed that the space next to him was still occupied, a welcome surprise. He smiled as he laid back down onto his side to nuzzle in close, pressing his nose into the arch of Mizuki’s neck. Mizuki’s natural scent was heavier of late, since his lover had recently been forgoing smoking. Something about the brand suddenly smelling different, though Gegero hadn’t noticed it himself. “Good morning.”
“Mmnm,” Mizuki mumbled, barely moving a muscle. “Morning.”
“Tired?” Gegero asked, punctuated with a kiss to Mizuki’s cheek.
“Very. I’m glad I’m not working today.” Mizuki sighed, wiggling his legs. “Up. I need to pee.”
“No way.” Gegero playfully pouted. His arms snaked around Mizuki’s stomach and held him tight, keeping him pinned down.
“Ah, seriously, off! I’m gonna piss myself!” Mizuki elbowed Gegero right in the nose, and while it didn’t necessarily hurt, it brought tiny, white, disorienting stars into the center of his vision. He sniffled and released Mizuki to pitifully clutch his poor nose.
“Sorry, sorry,” Mizuki apologized as he sat up, stroking Gegero’s hair as if he was soothing a child. “I’ll be right back.”
“Ah, owww, ow. It hurts so much. If only I could get a kiss to make me feel better–” Gegero pursed his lips, waiting for one, but Mizuki was already halfway across the room when he lifted his head up. “Ah, Mizuki!”
“I’ll be right back!” Mizuki said again, rushing to the bathroom door. The screen opened and closed within the blink of an eye. Gegero impatiently huffed, but nature called, he supposed. Sitting up, he looked over to the tiny futon set beside their own. Kitaro was sleeping peacefully, all dressed up in a new set of yellow pajamas Mizuki’s mother bought for them. He was so cute in them, in everything he wore, really, and Gegero was content to watch their baby boy sleeping away while he waited for Mizuki to come back.
So he waited.
And waited.
And while Kitaro was absolutely adorable, he was wondering if Mizuki was ever coming out of there. He pushed himself up and towards the bathroom, tilting his head. “Mizuki? Is everything alright in there? If you need toilet paper, you could just ask…”
Silence. Odd. Too odd to ignore, and Gegero hoped that Mizuki wouldn’t be too mad at him for sliding the shoji open a crack, just to peek in.
His eyes widened, at the sight, Mizuki on his knees. Sweating heavily, flushed from his ears to his shoulders, too sick and dazed to even notice that Gegero was even there.
“Mizuki!” Gegero met him on the ground, a comforting hand on Mizuki’s back. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t–” Mizuki gagged, barely able to keep his head up. “I don’t know. I feel awful.”
Gegero brushed back his sweat-slicked bangs and held Mizuki up by his shoulders. “You were trying to be quiet to keep me from finding out, weren’t you?”
“...Sorry.” Mizuki muttered, eyes downcast, guilty that he was caught. “I just didn’t want you seeing me like this.”
Mizuki wasn’t always honest. Gegero knew that it wasn’t out of distrust, rather a deep-seated belief that Mizuki just wasn’t worth the effort. He wished that Mizuki’s life hadn’t been so hard, that he hadn’t been failed by the people who made him this way. They were still working on it, Mizuki’s self-esteem, one step at a time. It wasn’t something that Gegero could rush, nor would he. “What kind of husband would I be if I couldn’t take care of you?”
Mizuki dryly chuckled, leaning into Gegero’s chest. He raised his head, cheeks hot and eyes glossy, and it stirred something in Gegero’s heart. “Guess I’m just not used to being taken care of.”
“I know. Now, let me help with this.”
“What are you–” Mizuki instantly choked. Gegero’s long, thin fingers pushed past his tongue and down his throat– hot, wet, and tight. It wouldn’t be the first time that Mizuki’s gag reflex had been tested, of course, but Gegero was purposeful as he stroked the soft flesh that made Mizuki’s throat tighten up. He gagged and convulsed as Gegero eased his fingers in and out, but he still was holding back.
“It’s okay. Don’t fight it.” Gegero shifted Mizuki upward, making sure his head was hovering over the toilet bowl. Tears and spittle dripped onto the floor, and one rough push of his fingertips was enough for Mizuki to vomit in full, thin mucus and bile spilling through the gap of Gegero’s fingers and into the water below. Gegero pulled his fingers out, his job done, and Mizuki’s hands braced themselves on the toilet seat as the vomiting spell continued, spitting and coughing up everything that was left in his stomach.
When Mizuki was done, he gasped, panted, swallowing every breath he could take. His body shook through it, and he fell back into Gegero for support. Gegero caught him, whispering quiet apologies as he wiped Mizuki’s mouth with the sleeve of his kimono.
“Better?” Gegero asked, hesitantly.
“...No way,” Mizuki teased, voice wet and raw. “You’re the worst. I might forgive you if you carry me back to bed, though.”
Gegero did as he was told, and, before long, he was forgiven.
While Mizuki rested in bed, Gegero took care of Kitaro. Well, he tried to, though he quickly found out that he was not their son’s favorite, and that only Mizuki’s arms were suitable enough to lull him back to sleep. With his son and wife next to him, eyes closed and breaths steady, Gegero let sleep take him again, too.
“Gegero.”
Good timing. Gegero was just starting to get bored of counting lines on the tatami floor. “Hm?”
“Do you know what this means?” Mizuki held Kitaro up in front of him, the boy mumbling spit-filled mix of “Mizuki” and “mama.” The boy’s hair straightened up to a point, like an antenna. “He’s been doing it all morning.”
…A yokai? Here? That shouldn’t be possible. Gegero didn’t sense anything, or, at least, he didn’t sense anything hostile. Then again, a lack of aggression didn’t always mean good intentions. Yokai could be crafty that way. Squinting, he pushed himself onto his feet, eyes, ears, and nose on the lookout for anything unusual as he anxiously paced around their small home. There wasn’t anything in the living room, nor the bathroom… the only place left was their bedroom.
Mizuki was right behind him the entire time, following Gegero around as he opened and closed every closet, every drawer. Kitaro giggled as he was lightly bounced in Mizuki’s arms to keep him occupied. “You didn’t answer my question, you know.”
He hadn’t meant to ignore his wife, truly, but he was on a mission. If there was something here, he needed to get rid of it, now. Still, the last thing he wanted was to cause Mizuki any unneeded stress, so after he flipped over their futons, once, then twice, to make sure nothing was lurking underneath, he stood back up and turned to his partner. “Ah, sorry, Mizu– ki?”
Gegero froze. Kitaro’s hair was still as stiff as a board, but now, Gegero understood why.
“What?” Mizuki tilted his head, amused. “Is there something on my shirt?”
“No, no, I… just… I need to look at something,” Gegero assured, taking careful steps forward. His hands snaked underneath Mizuki’s shirt.
“Ah, hey–” Mizuki shivered under his cold touch, but he didn’t step away. “You could give a guy a warning before you feel him up.”
Gegero didn’t respond, too busy tracing circles on Mizuki’s stomach, right where the tiniest, faintest hint of spiritual energy lingered. A small breath of life protected by flesh and blood. A blend of his own essense with the spirit of a human. There was no mistaking it– “...Mizuki, you’re carrying my child.”
“...Huh?” Mizuki dryly chuckled, like he was missing out on a joke. “What are you talking about?”
“I see it. Right here,” Gegero insisted, gently pressing the skin above his navel. Feeling unusually on edge, he hurriedly undid the buttons on Mizuki’s shirt. He lowered to his knees, then laid his cheek against Mizuki’s stomach. Soft and warm, with the lifeblood of a newborn underneath. He felt much better being so close, but he realized Mizuki hadn’t said a word through all of it.
He looked up, expecting to see disbelief, horror, or perhaps disgust on Mizuki’s face, but Mizuki simply stared down at his body and shifted Kitaro close to his chest. Their son sucked on his thumb, cooing, the sharp point of his hair finally falling down against gravity.
“...Really?”
“Mm.” Gegero nodded, lifting his head off of Mizuki’s belly.
“Well… frankly, I assumed something like that was impossible, but… I guess what’s impossible doesn’t matter to you yokai.” Mizuki ran a hand through Gegero’s hair, and Gegero leaned into his warm palm like a dog. “What do you think?”
…What did he think? What did it matter? Gegero was far more eager to find out what Mizuki thought, but he could tell he wasn’t getting an answer until he gave his own.
Where to start… Gegero cleared his throat, eyes glancing between his wife, his son, and their new little bundle of life.
“I… I’m happy. Very happy.” Gegero already felt tears at the corners of his eyes, emotions weighing heavy on his heart. “I’ve… imagined it before. You look so happy with Kitaro, I thought that it’d be nice if he had a sibling you could care for, too. One that was from the both of us. My desires must have manifested onto you– made your body change. I’m sorry. I should have known, I–” He thought of the Ryuga family, then, how they pushed their family’s lineage onto their innocent children. The last thing he wanted was for Mizuki to feel trapped, compelled to carry a baby he didn’t ask for. “The choice is yours, Mizuki. I– I don’t want to hurt you.”
“...You’re such a crybaby. Come on, stand up.” Mizuki motioned with his free arm for Gegero to move back up.
Gegero sobbed as he rose to his feet. He thought to say more, tried to say more, but all that fell from his lips was unintelligible apologies.
“There you are,” Mizuki cooed, stroking the fat of his cheek, flushed from his tears.
“Mizuki…” Gegero sniffled, snot clogging his nose.
Mizuki tilted his head, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. In moments like this, Gegero wondered if Mizuki knew the power he held over him, how he’d do anything to keep him happy for the rest of Gegero’s life. “Hmm?”
“I–” Gegero’s heart caught in his throat. He lowered his head, tears landing on Mizuki’s shirt. “I love youuu…”
“I know, I know. I love you, too.” Mizuki patted his cheek. His hand lowered, moving to the back of Gegero’s neck, gentle fingers tickling his nape. “And, mm… I want this. With you.”
Gegero blinked and rubbed at his eyes. With a loud cheer, he wrapped an arm around Mizuki’s waist, the other under his legs and lifted him up as if he weighed nothing. Mizuki made a small noise in surprise, making sure Kitaro was secure, and the boy giggled, used to his father’s antics. Gegero danced in a slow circle, swaying his family to the tune of his own making.
“...Mizuki, where are you going?” Gegero groaned, lazily reaching out to grab Mizuki before he could leave the futon. It was so cruel of him to try when they were so comfortable.
Mizuki laughed, dodging his arms. He pet Gegero’s hair, then Kitaro’s, before he pushed himself up and walked to the closet. “To work?”
“Huh?” Gegero sat up straight, completely baffled. Sure, it was a Monday, but after yesterday’s revelation, Gegero assumed that Mizuki would have put work out of his mind. “No, no. You need to stay home, Mizuki.”
“Mii-ju-ki,” Kitaro mimicked, and the boy yawned as he pushed himself over onto his stomach to crawl and follow Mizuki.
“Why? I’m not showing yet.” Mizuki pulled on a white dress shirt, eyes lowered as he buttoned it up. Kitaro met him by his feet, and Mizuki smiled as he leaned down to pick their son up. “Have to make money somehow. Need to budget better for the baby, too… Gegero, can you look today to see if there’s any diapers on sale? We should prepare–”
“You need to stay home, Mizuki,” he repeated, even more firm, since Mizuki didn’t understand the first time.
“Gegero. I’m okay.” Mizuki insisted, walking over to hand Kitaro over to Gegero. “Iwako-san had to work this much, didn’t she?”
She didn’t have to work. She just… wanted to. Some days, he didn’t understand why, especially with how exhausted she ended up by the end of the day, but she said it was rewarding, despite the obstacles. She talked about her coworkers, how kind and gentle they were, and Gegero hung onto her every word, because she was so beautiful with joy on her face, love tinting her voice. He wanted to believe her, that humanity could change for the better. Then, one day, she was gone, stolen away, all to sate deep, dark greed– the very same that took the rest of his people away.
He blamed himself, sometimes. Maybe if they lived in the Gegege Forest, they could have avoided all of the tragedy, but without the pain and grief, he wouldn’t have met Mizuki, either.
Gegero set the boy down on the futon, carefully tucking him under the blanket. The boy stared at him, confused, but he turned over onto his back and busied himself with chewing on the fabric.
Gegero moved to his feet, taking slow, predatory steps. He stopped right behind his wife, who was making a point to ignore him, pulling on his suit jacket, instead. Just as Mizuki put his arms through the sleeves, Gegero grabbed his wrist, pulled him close, his chest against Mizuki’s back. When he saw Mizuki wince in the mirror, he let go, immediately filled with cold guilt. “...Sorry.”
Mizuki squinted, turning around, arms crossed. “Look, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’ll be fine–”
“You don’t know that!” Gegero shouted, loud enough to startle both Mizuki and Kitaro. His hair shot out, coiled tightly around Mizuki’s legs and waist, anything to get him to stay. “You don’t. I don’t. This might be hard on you, and I need you here, so I can keep you safe. I didn’t…” Hot tears spilled over before he could try to stop them. “I missed so much of her pregnancy. She had to bear it all on her own. If something happened to you, I… I don’t know what I would do. You have to stay here. Please.”
Mizuki sighed, more tired than angry. “...I’m going to be late. Can we talk about this when I get back, Gegero?”
“But–” Gegero started, but Mizuki held a finger up to Gegero’s lips.
“Ah-ah,” Mizuki shook his head, sternly. “That’s either a yes or no, Gegero.”
“Mm.” Gegero puffed up his cheeks, suddenly embarrassed at his outburst. He pulled his hair back, letting the long strands hang down, shielding his face. “...Yes.”
“Great,” Mizuki reached out to brush his hair away. He leaned onto the tip of his toes, pressing a chaste kiss to Gegero’s nose. “We’ll talk then. You and Kitaro have a good day. I’ll miss you.”
Mizuki left soon after that, and Gegero stayed put at home. Though, if Gegero just so happened to ask a few spirits to keep watch over Mizuki at the office, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
Gegero had the rest of the day to practice his pitch. Kitaro was a good listener, though not nearly as good with feedback, and Gegero rehearsed his lines until he heard Mizuki’s telltale footsteps approaching.
Gegero was seated in the middle of their home, waiting expectantly, Kitaro in his lap. Gegero wore a somber expression for the occasion. Kitaro looked up at his father and then back at Mizuki, looking as serious as a chubby baby could.
Mizuki opened the shoji, stopping when he noticed the two of them waiting so formally. He must’ve expected this, just raising his eyebrows at the sight. “...Let me put my stuff down first.”
Mizuki looked visibly uncomfortable with how hard both of them were staring. Gegero followed his every move, Mizuki shuffling off his shoes, setting his briefcase down, undoing his tie. His wife eventually met him on the tatami, sitting across from him.
Gegero reached into the sleeve of his kimono, taking out a thick envelope. He placed it onto the floor, silently slid it to Mizuki’s knees.
Mizuki blinked, then reached down for it. He turned it over in his hands before prying it open, eyes widening at what was inside. “...What is this?”
“My wife’s savings,” he answered, without missing a beat.
Mizuki’s face fell, and he shook his head, tried to hand the envelope back. “Gegero… I can’t use this. This is for your fami–”
“Stop it.” Gegero interrupted, hair raising ever so slightly. “You are my family.” He stopped, realizing that being forceful was what started their argument this morning. “You don’t… have to, but you have to believe me when I say that this is what she would want. My wife loved to hear about you.” If she were still with them, Gegero had no doubts that she would’ve fallen for Mizuki, too.
“Hmm.” Mizuki crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. Eyes closed, deep in thought, humming to himself. A small smile graced his lips, and he sighed as he waved the envelope in his hand. “Alright. Let’s lay some ground rules.”
“First!” He held up one finger. “I’m going to keep working until I can’t hide my stomach. Only then will we start using Iwako-san’s savings. It’s not like I can take maternity leave, so I’ll have to find a new job afterwards, too.”
“Second!” Two fingers. “I know you’re worried about me. I don’t blame you for being nervous. I’m nervous too, but we have to trust each other. I’m not good at being cooped up, so let me enjoy going out until I can’t anymore, okay?”
“Third!” Three. “You’ll be in charge of chores once that happens. Deal?”
Gegero wanted to argue, but… what could he really say that he hadn’t tried already? As much as Gegero wanted to keep Mizuki away from the world, lock him up, throw away the key– it wouldn’t make Mizuki happy.
“...Mizuki really is a good businessman,” Gegero conceded, pouting. “Mm. Deal.”
“It’s what they pay me for.” Mizuki chuckled, holding his arms out. “Come here. I missed you both.”
Kitaro was faster and crawled out of Gegero’s lap to be in Mizuki’s. His wife happily took Kitaro into his arms, swaddling him. He looked up, staring expectantly at Gegero. Gegero was soon to follow, and he pressed his lips against Mizuki’s temple. Mizuki tilted his head up, pursed his lips, and Gegero closed the gap between them, the agreement set in stone.
The shoji sharply opened, a red handprint left from where Gegero pushed it.
“Oh, welcome back–” Mizuki looked up from his newspaper laid out on the floor, freezing at what he saw. “What the hell is in your mouth?”
Gegero crawled into their home on his hands and knees, eyes dilated, breathing heavy. His fangs sunk deeper, blood spilling from the rabbit’s neck. Crawling closer, he lifted his head up, offering up the fresh kill to his lover.
Protect him. Provide for him. Prove you’re a good mate–
“No, no, no! Absolutely not!” Mizuki fearfully scooted back, using the newspaper as a makeshift shield. “Spit that out, now! God, you’re getting blood everywhere!”
The fear in Mizuki’s voice brought Gegero back to his senses. He dropped the rabbit from his mouth, wiped away the red from his chin with his sleeve. He sat on his knees, lightly bowing his head. “...Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing– just put it away!”
“What was that about?”
“Um–” Gegero cleared his throat, looking up from scrubbing blood from the tatami. “Instincts, I suppose.”
“Seriously…” Mizuki sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. Let’s not let it go to waste. If you prepare it properly, I don’t mind, just… don’t do that in front of me again.”
Gegero woke up the moment Mizuki pushed his arms off of him. His wife-senses were heightened with the baby on the way, nothing about Mizuki escaped his notice. Mizuki was showing enough that he had no choice but to stay home, and when Gegero had to leave, he made sure to have the chanchanko draped over Mizuki’s shoulders to keep him safe. There hadn’t been any incidents, but Gegero couldn’t be too careful.
So when Mizuki left their bedroom in the dead of night, Gegero had no choice but to trail behind him. Silent footsteps, eyes and nose honed in on his wife, and eventually he found himself at the doorway of the kitchen.
“...Mizuki?” Gegero called, in disbelief at the sight before him.
“Ah–” Mizuki froze, caught in the act, like a child in the cookie jar. The half-eaten remains of the rabbit fell from his mouth onto the floor, entrails by his feet. “Sorry, I was so hungry, and I thought about the rabbit, and I just ended up here–”
Dried blood stained Mizuki’s lips, the hint of red teeth under his upper lip. Mizuki was eating his kill. His heart swelled with love and something primal. Gegero’s feet moved on their own, and Mizuki swallowed, and Gegero watched with adoration as meat passed down Mizuki’s beautiful throat.
“Is it good?” Gegero cupped his cheek, eyes dilated.
Mizuki nodded, leaned into his touch, eyes just as blown. “It’s good.”
Gegero ran his tongue over Mizuki’s crimson mouth, tasted a delicious blend of copper and Mizuki, and Mizuki parted his lips to let Gegero have more, arms circling around his neck.
Clothes hurriedly discarded, Gegero lifted Mizuki up with ease, and Mizuki leaned into him, legs wrapping around his hips. The swell of Mizuki’s stomach rested against Gegero’s abs, and it drove Gegero mad. He slotted his cock between Mizuki’s thighs, rubbed between them, would be content enough with that, but he heard a small whine from his mate. Gegero pulled his hips back, thinking that Mizuki stopped being in the mood, but Mizuki growled and clawed down Gegero’s back, leaving lines of red.
“In, want it in me.” Mizuki moaned against Gegero’s shoulder, biting into it like it was Mizuki’s next meal.
“I need to–”
“Already did it. While you were gone.” The thought of Mizuki fingering himself in hopes that Gegero would bend him over later was so hot that he was tempted to make Mizuki show him just how he did it, but– “Been wanting you so badly, Gegero, please just fuck me.”
And who was he to say no to that?
Gegero claimed Mizuki’s lips again, messy, full of teeth and tongue, as he pushed forward, sinking himself deep into Mizuki’s insides. It had been too long; they didn’t have the time to fuck like they used to. They shared moans between their mouths, kept their lips locked until Mizuki needed air. Gegero’s tongue hung loosely out of his mouth when they parted, and Mizuki leaned in to suck on its pointed tip, barely taking time to catch his breath, as if he needed Gegero’s spit just as badly. So needy, Gegero couldn’t take it anymore and slammed Mizuki onto the countertop.
It was a miracle that Kitaro stayed asleep. They fucked on every surface, fucked until the sun peaked through the windows, and if Mizuki hadn’t been pregnant already, then he would’ve been now, stuffed full of cum until his hole was too loose to hold it inside.
Mizuki hadn’t been out of bed for the past few days. Gegero didn’t mind. It gave him the perfect excuse to spoil his wife, who usually would be hesitant to accept any help. With Mizuki’s palate adjusting for the baby, it was a lot easier to cook for the whole family, and Kitaro was always so well behaved, especially so for his tired, tired mother.
It was only a matter of time for their child to come into the world. It was a surprise learning about how fast human conception was. Nine months was nothing– Kitaro had stayed protected in his wife’s stomach for over a decade. It was necessary, to provide all the spiritual energy he needed to nurture a physical form. His wife had been tormented for so long, she barely had enough to keep herself alive. When her life was nearly spent, she chose to give her life to their son.
So, naturally, Gegero was worried. He hadn’t a clue about how a halfling would fare being born, and Nezumi Otoko wasn’t much help. The man had the audacity to try to charge him for information, though, even when pressed, he didn’t know much about his own birth.
Mizuki insisted that, if it came down to it, he wanted Gegero to prioritize their child, but there was simply no way Gegero could make that choice. He’d do anything to protect his family. No matter what, he’d make sure that they’d both be safe, healthy, happy.
The day came sooner than Gegero expected. He had just left for a quick grocery run, and when he returned, he found Mizuki collapsed against the floor on his side, trembling. Gegero had prepared for it, asked around for advice from everyone he could think of, but it still wasn’t enough to calm his nerves. Gegero rushed to his wife’s side, carried him to their bedroom, where he’d be comfortable.
Mizuki writhed against the futon– full body sweats and agonized groans, clutching at his stomach. “It– it hurts, fuck. Now I understand how my mother felt– ow, ow.”
“Stop talking.” They reviewed this already– how Mizuki needed to conserve his strength. It was unclear whether a human spirit could handle the tax a yokai soul required.
“Come on, let me have this– ah, fuck, ow.” Mizuki winced, body quivering through labor pains. “Okay, you’re right, no more talking.”
Gegero leaned over, his hand hovering over Mizuki’s swollen stomach. “Just breathe. I’ll do the rest. Keep your eyes on me.”
Focus. Stay calm. Everything will be fine. Don’t worry about what could go wrong, because nothing will go wrong.
Gegero slowly lowered his hand, watched it disappear as it passed through Mizuki’s stomach, phasing from the physical realm into the spiritual. Where were they…? Ah. There– he found the little flicker of their child. When he closed his eyes, peeking into Mizuki’s life force, he saw them, a tiny, fiery flame, red and blue intertwined. He curved his hand, tried to reach them with his fingertips, but they must be feeling mischievous, since they dodged his touch and playfully circled around him.
“Don’t be that way,” he chided, trying to catch them, to no avail. “Your mommy and daddy want to see you.”
Their child’s spirit stopped at the sound of his voice, though it wasn’t long until they were back to darting all over again. It was worrisome– Gegero couldn’t keep Mizuki like this forever, but what if their child simply wasn’t ready yet? He opened his eyes to check in on Mizuki, and seeing the pain on his face did little to soothe him.
Mizuki took careful, slow breaths through his nose, staring up at Gegero, impatient. “What’s the problem?”
“They’re avoiding me,” Gegero answered, dejected.
“I can tell. They’re kicking up a storm.” Mizuki looked down at his stomach, raising a hand to stroke his underbelly. “I won’t pretend to know what’s going on down there, but… I hope they know that there’s a beautiful world waiting for them.”
“...They’ll know,” Gegero reassured, leaning down to press a kiss to Mizuki’s forehead. “It won’t be long, I promise.”
“You better be right, Gegero, or I’ll– ow, fuck, okay, aah–” Mizuki squirmed, likely another wave washing over him.
Gegero closed his eyes again, looking to see where their child was now, and–
They were waiting, warm and soft, against his palm. Gegero let out a shaky breath as he carefully closed his hand around them, making sure they were protected as he slowly pulled his hand up, back to the world of the living.
“I-I have them–” Gegero beamed, eyes already wet with tears. It was almost over, just a little more, and their baby would be here, alive and well. “Remember, Mizuki, focus on me. I’m right here.” He offered Mizuki his hand, and he sniffled as Mizuki’s fingers intertwined with his.
“I know.” Mizuki squeezed his hand. “I love you.”
Another deep breath, and Gegero swiftly brought his hand back, feeling the flame grow hotter and hotter against his skin. Mizuki’s grip on his hand tightened, and he clenched his teeth as their soul pulled apart his, sapping away his essence to sustain themselves.
It was over before Gegero could blink, and what was just warmth in his palm was a fleshy, heavy weight in his arms. Gegero’s breath was caught in his throat at the sight of their baby– a girl. White hair and big, blue eyes, wiggling and kicking her fat, little legs.
“Oh, oh… she’s perfect, Mizuki.” Gegero sobbed, shifting their precious baby girl to lay on Mizuki’s chest. Gegero expected him to say something, anything, or, at the very least, take the baby into his arms, but Mizuki simply laid there, motionless, eyes open but glossy, faint, distant. His poor wife, so tired. Gegero squeezed his hand again, content enough to have Mizuki squeezing back, but it never came. Mizuki’s skin was cold, like his own.
His heart sunk to the bottom of his gut, every ounce of joy snuffed out by pure fear. He waved a hand over Mizuki’s face, watching for any reaction, any, any, any. “Mizuki? Mizuki. Mizuki–”
Mizuki remained still. Picture perfect, a gentle smile, soft eyes, like a corpse in a casket, and Gegero bit his lip faster than he could contemplate the consequences, blood beading up to the surface of his flesh, dripping down his chin like a leaking faucet. He leaned down, taking Mizuki’s lips into his own, because he couldn’t lose him, not like this. He forced his blood down onto Mizuki’s unmoving tongue, and Gegero hoped that it would just work, because he couldn’t imagine a world cruel enough to take both his lovers away.
Their nameless daughter finally cried, sharing her voice to the world, and Gegero joined her with his own tears.
“This stuff is so stupid,” she muttered, light blue eyes scanning over her homework like it was in an entirely different language. It might as well be– whoever invented math had a sick, twisted mind.
“Do you want help?”
She turned her head at the sound of her brother’s voice, then forced herself forward, shaking her head, cheeks puffed up and arms crossed in rebellion. They weren’t on speaking terms since this morning, when Kitaro refused to lend her his homework, and she had to stand out in the hall with the other kids who didn’t have it done.
Kitaro sighed, making his way over to sit beside her, shrugging his backpack off and setting it by his chair. “We’re about to open, you know.” Kitaro reminded, as if she didn’t already know. “Dad will want us to help at the front. He still doesn’t know how to use the cash register.”
“Well, tell him I can’t,” she said, already bored of giving her brother the silent treatment. “I have to get this done by tomorrow, because someone won’t let me copy his stuff anymore.”
“You won’t learn that way,” Kitaro argued, and she hated that he had a point.
“Mhm, he’s right. About both things,” Her father interjected, taking a seat across from them, flour stuck to his nose.
“Do you know how to do this, Dad?” she asked, sliding the worksheet over to her father.
Her father took one long look at it before sitting up straight and smiling wide, confident. “Of course not!”
“Hmm… let me see.” A tan hand reached out in front of her, replaced the worksheet with a plate stacked high with fresh pancakes, just what she needed. A set of plates and silverware followed, one in front of each of them.
“Oh, long division. That’s tough, Yukiko,” her mother remarked, placing it back down. “Maybe we should close for today, so you can focus on this.”
“No, no!” That’s the last thing she wanted, and her mother must’ve known, because he just gave her a sharp, toothy grin. “Mana-chan said she was gonna come today!”
“Mana-chan, huh? Alright, alright,” her mother ruffled her hair, and she whined because she had just made it look nice, unlike the bird’s nest it usually was. She wanted to look pretty for her new friend– not for any particular reason, of course. “Just make sure you get this done, okay? I know you can do it.”
“Mhmmfmhm,” her father agreed(?) through a mouthful of pancakes, syrup joining the mess on his face.
“Do you wanna flip the sign over, Yukiko?” her mother asked, carrying their backpacks to the back of the shop. “I’ll show you how to make those drawings on coffee while we wait for a customer.”
She furiously nodded and hopped out of her seat before her mother even finished talking, sprinting to the entrance, as if it was a race.
“Be careful,” Kitaro warned after her, always the worrier.
Amigo Panqueque. A café open to humans and yokai. It had been around as long as she had been alive, and her father told embarrassing stories about how her mother had Yukiko strapped to his chest while taking orders. It was her mother’s idea, apparently– he needed a job to support them, and he wanted to provide a bridge between the two species. A shop tucked away from prying eyes, only visible to those who believed in what they couldn’t always see.
Her father loved to recount how her parents first met, how they fell in love, how her mother ended up a yokai himself, but her father also told of times long ago, where humans nearly wiped out their tribe, how her other mother had to sacrifice herself for her brother because of humanity’s fear of them. It was why her heritage had to be a secret, though that was easier said than done. Sometimes it was hard– the other kids picked on her because of her white hair and wide eyes, called her creepy and weird, though Kitaro usually frightened them off before they could do much else.
Someday, she’d have to make a choice. Remain with humans or retreat to the yokai world. But, for now, Yukiko Mizuki decided she would have both.