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Satoru’s end of the closet was starting to look empty these days. Even Suguru noted that one morning as he was hanging some of his own shirts and realised he hadn’t seen much of Satoru’s. He looked around the room, then opened the door to Satoru’s side of the closet.
Oh, he was in trouble.
He peaked behind himself, where their bed was. He hadn’t made the bed since he last changed the covers three days ago. Satoru didn’t get involved then, keeping to himself. He knew what was going on then, and Suguru always got a little embarrassed when he did it. At least he did the first two pregnancies.
The truth was, Suguru was nesting like crazy. It started with tiny little blankets he had bought at the dollar store and washed for the baby. He got the urge to sleep with them and ended up rubbing his scent all over them the entire night. Then he moved on to the plushies their boys had bought for the baby, and clothes people gifted them.
In a little over a week, he had gathered a herd of little soft blankies, clothes, and plushies. All piled up on his side of the bed. He rotated the blankies, one a day, on Satoru’s side, wanting his scent on it, too. A little embarrassed, he only did it when Satoru had woken up and left for work. He probably noticed, though.
And… It didn’t stop there. No, he needed Satoru’s scent all over his side of the bed. So, he started by grabbing a shirt Satoru had haphazardly discarded on his side of the bed in the morning. He probably only tried it on once, deciding between two shirts, and left it out because he was running late. But it smelled so strongly of his mate, his warm, fuzzy scent that made Suguru’s muscles relax. If he could describe Satoru’s scent, it would probably be sun-dried laundry, or something like a hot rock.
It was hard to describe because he had never smelled an alpha like that before. Most alphas smelled like some combination of rain, or saffron, sometimes even patchouli. Their sons also ended up getting oddly sweet scents, like their father. While Ryoma’s scent came from Suguru, it was still sweeter than most alphas. Like something between myrrh and cherry. Yamato still smelled like baby to Suguru. He refused to recognise him as a fully realised alpha. Whatever that sweet sandalwood scent that came from his bedroom was, he was deciding to ignore it.
To alphas and omegas, their cubs always smelled sweet. While the sweetness subsided as they grew into their teenagerhood, their scents would always be close to heavenly and bring their parents’ immense comfort. That’s why Ryoma’s and Yamato’s scents were so extraordinary; they still smelled sweet. It was so interesting to Suguru, who realised it was a thing within Satoru’s family.
But that wasn’t important now. What was important was the fact that Suguru had managed to sneak away more than just one shirt since then. He had practically emptied Satoru’s closet in favour of decorating his nest. While he was quite proud of his extremely plush creation, it held a secret underneath the baby item layers.
Suguru was quite meticulous with how he hid Satoru’s shirts. He wasn’t ready to admit to him that he had stolen his shirts just to create a nest that he’d have to rip apart in a week’s time when he had to change the covers again. Which, by the way, always tore Suguru’s heart into shreds. He still remembered how it was with his last pregnancy. He was so hormonal back then that he locked himself inside the restroom, laundry on making the room hot, and cried to himself because he had to redo his nest.
At least the smell of the laundry soothed him, and when he got out, Satoru had redone his nest. He just redecorated the parts Satoru got wrong, and it was as if he hadn’t ripped it apart at all!
Knowing Satoru would be there in case he broke down over his nest again, it should’ve made Suguru feel calm. But instead, he dreaded the fact that he’d see all the shirts – and even socks – he had gathered that belonged to Satoru.
Quietly, Suguru went over to his nest. He didn’t even know why he was tiptoeing right now. Satoru wouldn’t be home for another hour, and his boys were holed up in their own rooms, doing homework. Last time he checked, at least, ignoring Yamato’s random holler.
He got comfortable under his covers, suddenly feeling a wave of tiredness. His eyelids felt heavy as he inhaled the remnants of Satoru’s scent on the bed. With new covers, the smell was faint, but still strong enough to stay throughout the day. He grabbed Satoru’s pillow, hugging it to his stomach where the baby was kicking lazily. Yeah, whoever that baby was in there was being dramatic as hell, acting like there wasn’t enough space.
Well, compared to his pregnancy with Yamato, this one didn’t move as much. They were weirdly strong, so he wasn’t worried about it, and they luckily didn’t kick him in the ribs or against his bladder as often as Yamato did. It had been so long he nearly forgot how it was, though, so it was hard for him to compare his current pregnancy to one fifteen years ago.
He did remember his first two coming out on the smaller side due to him being a young father. Both he and Satoru were tall, while their boys were tiny, feeble little things. But Ryoma grew big fast, all chubby-cheeked and round within months. Yamato, however, remained lean throughout his childhood.
It made him curious about the little one still growing inside him. How would they end up? How would they look like? What kind of food would be their favourite? Would they be quiet, but fussy like Ryoma? Or loud, but happy like Yamato? How would Mio be? Because they had chosen a name now. What kind of person would their little Mio grow into?
Before he knew it, he was being awoken from his slumber by Satoru. He had fallen asleep. How long had it been? Last he remembered, he was hugging onto Satoru’s pillow, and now he was waking up to him frantically shaking him.
“Hm?” he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, feeling completely out of loop. He tried sitting up but gave up. He eyed Satoru, who had already turned away from him. “What’s wrong?”
Satoru sighed, sounding irritated. “I can’t find my dress shirt. That light blue one.”
“Is it not in the laundry?”
“No, I washed those two days ago, remember?”
Suguru whined, attempting to sit up again. Satoru looked this time, snorting at the way he was glaring at him from his spot on his back. He was by his side in a moment, helping him up. Yeah, while this pregnancy was easy, he did struggle doing things on his own these days.
“Why do you need it now? You just got back from work…” he asked, voice going lower and lower.
Satoru smiled at him, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached over, gently pushing his greasy bangs back on his head. “There’s an open campus thing at the school. I only came back to get changed because they want me to hold a speech.”
“Suddenly?”
“Yeah, the original person got sick in the middle of their shift. I need to get going.”
“That’s… Horrible,” Suguru said, voice tapering off as he realised something that would make this whole thing difficult. “Is there something else in there for you?”
Satoru had a serious look on his face when he stared at him. Then his lips twitched, trying his hardest to hold back his smile. “No… Because I apparently have no clothes anymore, Suguru.”
He avoided his eyes.
“Suguru… If you’re, perhaps, nesting with my shirts,” Satoru started, carefully choosing his words. “I’m really okay with that. But… But I need to wear something.”
Well, this was awkward. Even if Satoru wanted his shirt, he would need to iron it. Maybe even wash it again, depending on how strongly it smelled of Suguru. Probably sickeningly so. But he wasn’t ready to admit anything, and so he sent out a little prayer. Hoping, wishing for an interruption.
“Dad, where are my black jeans?”
Suguru lit up. Oh, his beautiful little creation.
“Which one? Either way, it should be in your closet.”
Ryoma walked up to the door, stopping at the door frame. He squinted at them. “It’s not there.”
“It’s there.”
“There where?”
Okay. Just a creation, now. This was getting annoying.
“Where you keep your jeans, Ryoma!”
His son rolled his eyes, walking inside. Well, this was unlike him.
“Why do you smell like Satoru?”
He pursed his lips at the way his son called his own parent by their first name. But because Satoru told him not to comment on it, he listened. Whatever it was, it was just a phase, after all.
“Is that something you should be commenting on?” Suguru asked, feeling a little embarrassed.
Ryoma shrugged, blinking at him with a mellow smile. He kept his hands in his pockets, probably thinking he looked so nonchalant. But Suguru could smell him, his comforting scent. Ryoma had made it into a habit recently, to try and overpower Satoru’s. It used to be something cute when he was younger, trying his hardest to spread his scent all over his dad. It was still cute if you asked Satoru, but Suguru worried that, combined with the fact that he didn’t even call him ‘papa’ anymore, that Ryoma was trying to make some kind of claim.
Suguru read up on it briefly, and even found a forum where people discussed this very subject. He hadn’t done or said anything about it because it ended up being something as innocent as an alpha cub just trying to comfort their omega parent. Ryoma had always been extremely attached to him, too, up until he started presenting and kept to himself. Then, when they announced they were pregnant, Ryoma started approaching him again.
Not for hugs and scent marking this time, but simply to be close. He once almost went into the restroom with him, then realised it, and spun around and walked away as if he hadn’t almost done that. It was cute, really. Suguru never turned down his cubs, no matter what kind of secondary gender or age. If they needed him, he’d be there. But Ryoma’s behaviour didn’t stop. It only got worse, more overbearing.
Satoru, patient as ever, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Even when Suguru was worried, that maybe Ryoma wasn’t coping well with being an alpha, Satoru instantly eased his nerves. He’d talk to him, is what Satoru said. And when he did, he said that Suguru had nothing to worry about. That their son was going to be okay. That this behaviour was him coping in his own way with whatever was going on. He didn’t push to find out, understanding that some things, he simply wouldn’t understand as an omega.
So, he allowed his boy to test his limits. Regardless of any reservations Suguru still had about it, he trusted Satoru. And besides, his son had something interesting going on with Kento’s son. Another alpha. He supposed it had something to do with it. Perhaps Ryoma was trying to compensate.
“You smell nice,” Suguru said, testing the waters. He watched as Ryoma walked around the room, taking discreet little sniffs. “Are you going out?”
“Yeah,” he replied, stopping at the foot of the bed. “How far along are you, dad?”
He ignored how random that question was. “Uh… Thirty-six weeks.”
“How many months is that?”
“About eight.”
“So, you’re giving birth soon?”
He smiled, caressing Satoru’s hand that had grabbed his. “Soon.”
Ryoma eyed them. “Don’t let him do that to you again.”
“Huh?”
“Get you pregnant.”
“Ryoma,” Suguru said, sounding agitated. Even his scent was off, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. He hated how Ryoma flinched. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted another sibling.”
“You didn’t do this for me,” Ryoma muttered, placing the flat of his hand on the covers. Suguru watched curiously as he patted, then dug underneath. He pulled out a shirt.
Satoru laughed, softly leaning into Suguru’s stomach. How Satoru could even laugh right now was beyond him. Anyone else would’ve instantly scolded Ryoma. But Satoru… He rarely got mad. His patience was that of an angel, maybe. Especially with Ryoma. Yamato was a different story.
Suguru wondered why he let Ryoma walk all over him like that, brooding and trying to put the puzzle pieces together. But he just couldn’t understand.
“Come,” Satoru said. Ryoma walked up with the shirt, handing it over to his father.
But Satoru tossed it aside, instead grabbing Ryoma to sit him between them. He protested a little, but eventually sat when Satoru’s scent was nothing but enveloping them in comfort. He eased because Satoru wasn’t mad. Not in the slightest. It was like Ryoma always expected Satoru to blow up on him, and when it didn’t come, he’d just look despondent.
“I already told you I’ll always listen to you,” Satoru hummed, keeping his voice pleasant for his cub. “If you’re unhappy about the new baby, you have to tell us.”
Ryoma shook his head. “I’m not unhappy.”
“So, what is it? I want to understand, Ryoma.”
Ryoma kept his gaze on a spot on the floor, his purple eyes glistening. His scent was abating. But it had a flustered edge to it that had Suguru wanting to hug and comfort his little (big) baby.
“What if it’s an omega?”
“The baby? That would be nice, wouldn’t it? I mean, you take care of your dad so well.”
Suguru watched the exchange.
“Maybe.”
Ryoma glanced at Suguru. Then down at his stomach where, as if on cue, the baby nudged their feet, showing through the fabric of his loose t-shirt. Ryoma kicked his feet, standing up. Yeah, he wasn’t ready to have this conversation. He walked out, his scent still off. Satoru sighed, ruffling his hair. He knew he wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to break his son’s trust by talking about it with Suguru.
“It’s okay,” Suguru said. “Talk to him alone.”
Ryoma not only looked exactly like him, but he had much of his personality, too. And so, if that really were the case, he knew exactly his thought process. Ryoma didn’t speak up when he was upset because he didn’t want to bother anyone. He had always kept to himself, even as a young boy, to the point where he had a hard time interacting with people. There was even an instance where he was so upset over another kid constantly taking his toys from him that he kept it all inside, and eventually got sick from the pent-up anger and sadness broiling in his little body.
Suguru only found out because his teacher told him about how Ryoma let the other kids take things from him. The teacher brought it up before resolving the issue, wanting to see if his parents were aware of this behaviour. And they didn’t, of course, because Yamato loved his brother and was never mean to him. Finding out their son was suffering in silence had both of their hearts aching. It explained why his scent was so weak after pre-school. They thought it was just him being overstimulated, since they always managed to nurse it back to normal at home.
And, well, he was overstimulated. But he was also extremely upset. Suguru remembered feeling horrible not knowing, and also knowing that he got that from him. He wondered if maybe him being so anxious and plain miserable while pregnant with Ryoma made it so much worse. He was way better mentally with Yamato, so the kid was just happy-go-lucky from the get-go. But Ryoma had always been such a demanding child, only ever calming down to his scent. Satoru worked so much back then that when he got home, their little boy woke up from his slumber screaming and crying at the foreign scent of some alpha he barely recognised. Whose scent was weak in his own home.
It was like that for a short while only, so by the time he found out he was pregnant with Yamato, things started to calm in their household. Scared it would be the same story all over again, Suguru prepared immensely. He made sure Satoru scented every single baby item in the house. Even Yamato’s pillow, wanting the boy to sleep soundly to the smell of his father.
It worked, too, because Yamato was absolutely enamoured with Satoru from the moment he was born, it felt like. It was wonderful to see. Such a difference it could make to simply be prepared, even if just a little. And Satoru was happier, calmer, knowing he could work and get home to a baby still sleeping. He didn’t need to inhibit his own scent in his own home.
Ryoma, nearly two at this point, saw how well Yamato played with Satoru, and started to approach him as well. While he allowed Satoru to scent mark him, he wasn’t all that keen on him as a person, as opposed to Suguru. He never cuddled him. Not once since he was born.
But, as if Yamato was showing him that it was okay, Ryoma hugged Satoru for the first time. Just to hug him, and not to be scent marked. Satoru embraced his boy so tightly, Suguru got a little worried. But Ryoma was fine in his arms, dozing off after just five minutes. And so, it became a habit. Ryoma would approach Satoru for cuddles before bed, resting his tired little head on his chest.
Satoru traced his thick, black hair, and his little nose, then up to his forehead down to his chin. He would whisper soothingly, telling Ryoma how much he loved him. How much they both wanted him. How he was their ‘little flame’. But the moment was theirs alone.
Their bond was different, Satoru and Ryoma’s. It was like Ryoma found the most comfort in Suguru, but if he really needed to get something off his chest, he only went to Satoru. So, really, he understood. He accepted that some things, he just wouldn’t understand. And Satoru needed this. He needed his boy to need him.
“I’ll try after work,” Satoru said, his worried face calming down as he grabbed the shirt his son had dug up from underneath layers of Suguru’s nest. It was coincidentally the light-blue dress shirt he needed. “And you…”
Suguru smiled coyly, tucking his chin in. Well, there was nothing else to do than play on the fact that Satoru always caved when he acted all sweet. Not that Satoru was mad. He just looked a little done, sighing at him.
But in just a second, he leaned over his stomach and groaned. He grappled Satoru’s arm, feeling his stomach cramp up. As if something was wringing his insides. A horrible contraction. He could never get used to them. As if that was possible for anyone. But he thought he’d be able to pace through them by now.
In all honesty, he was scared. He didn’t remember much from his first two births, being so out of it that by the time the babies were in his arms, he forgot just how much it hurt to get them to that point.
Satoru sensed his apprehension, lifting him to his knees. Moving helped, sometimes. He breathed, whining at how the contraction really took its time in going down. He leaned over his hands clasped at Satoru’s shoulder, who kept his arms idle. He did that, knowing Suguru didn’t like being touched excessively while going through this. Even while in labour, he barely allowed him to calm him by scenting him, so overstimulated. But he needed to have his alpha scent him. It was the only way to make things easier.
“I can’t…” Suguru groaned, all choked up over the pain. It slowly eased, though, so he turned his head and rested his cheek against Satoru’s shoulder. “It’s going to hurt…”
Satoru pushed his hair aside. “It will… But you’re strong. You can do anything, Suguru.”
His body was stiff even after the pain was nothing but a part of the past. He flinched when Satoru placed his hand on his waist, realising he was still bracing himself. He relaxed at his husband’s soft touch, allowing his breathing to harmonise with his.
Then he realised something, instantly separating.
“I’m sorry, Satoru, you’re going to be late.”
Satoru pecked his forehead, probably all damp from straining himself. “I’m okay with that.”
He rested a hand over the crest of his belly. It had really swelled up over the last three weeks, and it was only getting bigger and tighter, it felt like. The baby was gaining weight at a steady pace, too, according to his obstetrician. But Suguru was more than ready to meet the little one. As much as he enjoyed feeling those little kicks, and turns and twists, he didn’t know he could mentally handle another pretend contraction again.
It wasn’t all that bad, he just really wanted to get it over with. He wanted this baby to reveal itself. He wanted Mio to meet them – all of them. Their siblings, especially. He wanted to show Ryoma that there was nothing to worry about, whether this baby turned out to be an alpha or omega. He wondered for a second if he should introduce something that smelled of his sons to the baby’s room. Just so they’d be familiar with their own unique scents.
“I… Let me iron your shirt,” Suguru said, moving out of the bed. He yanked the shirt out of Satoru’s lap.
Satoru chuckled, following shortly behind him. He grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “How many did you take?”
He avoided his eyes. “That’s the only one.”
“Suguru, since when do you lie to me?”
Satoru grabbed his chin, gently tilting it so he was looking at him properly. He narrowed his eyes, finally looking Satoru in the eyes. Yeah. There was no use acting dumb. But it was embarrassing to admit why he needed Satoru’s shirts in his nest.
“Promise not to laugh.”
Satoru shook his head, smiling happily. He put his hands on his waist, all rounded out from his full belly.
“It’s the baby.”
“Suguru…”
He scowled. “No, I’m serious, Satoru. I think… I think the baby–”
His husband laughed as he leaned into his neck, making him feel dejected. “Seriously, if you need my scent in your nest, just say that. I’ll leave something before I head off to work.”
Suguru pushed Satoru aside, walking out of the bedroom angrily. He headed into the baby’s soon-to-be bedroom, where they kept the clothes iron and ironing board. It used to be for the miscellaneous things in their home. Only Suguru spent real time in there – aside from when the boys played on the random table football there – usually to read or do his work on the desk there. Satoru preferred to do his paperwork downstairs on the living room table.
Satoru said he could claim the study for himself because while Satoru had a personal desk and space at his teacher job, Suguru didn’t really have a space where he could work comfortably. Proof-reading for a prominent publishing company was demanding, after all, and Satoru recognised that.
But now, he was mad at him. While Suguru was partially bullshitting, he didn’t want to admit that to his husband. It also took a lot in him to admit he thought the baby made him extra sensitive. Well, obviously, a pregnancy made you sensitive. But he felt like the baby was the one who really wanted Satoru’s scent everywhere.
Okay, yeah, Suguru didn’t believe it himself. But like hell would he admit that now as he stubbornly set the ironing board up and waited for the iron to heat up. He’d iron the shirt, and then the other ones. Even though it pained him to dismantle his nest, he couldn’t keep stealing Satoru’s shirts. Maybe he’d keep one. And a couple socks.
“Suguru…”
Suguru glared at him. “Get out.”
He made his scent as vicious and repulsive as he could. A bit of an overkill, but he wanted to be alone for this. He’d iron the shirt, hand it over and send his husband off to work, then get to the rest of them. He couldn’t show just how many things he had hidden in there.
“Baby.”
“Since when do you call me that?” he asked, folding the collar to the shirt as he ironed it. “We don’t use pet-names.”
Satoru’s smile was hesitant. “Since you’re trying to make me go… And should we start?”
“After close to twenty years, no thanks.”
Satoru blinked at him with those big, blue eyes. “Well, fine. But just remember, you simply saying my name feels like a pet-name to me.”
Suguru looked at him, and he felt his scent shifting. Yeah, of course. Of course he would cave to Satoru. Not that he was really all that mad. He was just embarrassed. But still, he could never stay mad at him.
But their youngest didn’t sense the shift yet, calling for them, voice all reluctant.
“Papa?” Yamato’s voice was small. Suguru saw him appear behind Satoru, who had turned. Satoru ruffled his boy’s hair. “Are you guys fighting…?”
“No,” they both chorused, glancing at each other.
“Then what’s with your scent?”
Suguru put the iron aside, finished with his work. “I was just messing with your dad.”
Yamato side-eyed his father. “Why are you making dad iron your clothes? He can barely stand.”
Satoru blanched, pointing at his husband like a child being accused of something they didn’t do. “He wouldn’t let me!”
“So?!”
Suguru sighed loudly, carefully placing the shirt on a hanger. “I can stand! I’m not helpless, boy.”
He handed the shirt over to Satoru, holding his gaze a second longer than normal. In all honesty, he liked feeling useful to his family. Little things like doing their laundry and ironing their clothes, cooking… Not cleaning, though. He let Satoru do that. Besides, he was extremely meticulous – whining about dusty wall trims and window blinds every week. Satoru would mop the floor every day if he could, the way he grumbled over Suguru’s hair shedding.
Yamato snickered. “What would he do if you divorced him?”
Satoru gasped, looping an arm around his son’s neck. “Is that something you’ve been fantasising about? Preying on my downfall, are we?”
“Let go!” Yamato slapped his arm, baring his teeth. “Dad, help!”
Suguru scoffed, crossing his arms. “Nah, you said I can barely move.”
“I said ‘stand’!”
“That’s worse.”
“Come on!” Yamato whined, but went limp in Satoru’s arms. He rested a chubby cheek against his dad’s arm. “I’d choose dad anyway!”
“I’d choose dad, too.”
Suguru laughed, taking the hanger from Satoru’s hand. It would get wrinkly. “Huh? What’s the point of divorcing if you’re just gonna live with me?”
“What? I like you, why would I live separately?” He pecked the tuft of black hair that was Yamato. “I like you guys.”
As if the timing couldn’t be worse, Ryoma passed in the hallway outside. He had stopped, staring with wide eyes.
“You’re getting a divorce?!”
Suguru spluttered, grabbing Satoru’s arm. “No–”
“Yes!” Yamato yelled, lifting his head at his brother. “They said dad would take me, and you’re going with papa.”
“And the baby?”
Satoru let go of his youngest, glaring at them both. “Seriously? How are you so calm about it?”
Ryoma shrugged, eyes downcast. “I don’t know… How do you want me to react? It’s your choice.”
He said that, but Suguru could smell him. His scent was all sour, and anxious, and… Scared. Satoru definitely sensed it, too.
“We’re not, Yamato is just messing around,” Suguru explained, walking over to his son. He hugged him, smiling as he wrapped his arms around him in an instant. He was soothed, his little cub, and there was nothing better than the feeling of knowing that.
“Ooo! You let dad hug you!” Yamato jeered, trying to run past them when Ryoma gripped his arm. “Ow! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Papa!”
He turned his head when his son sent him those puppy-dog eyes of his. “Don’t ask me for help now, kid, you’re on your own.”
Suguru pulled away first, even though it pained him a little. His cubs always smelled so sweet, so calming. He could sleep to their scents. He missed the times when they would huddle in his bed, letting him and Satoru scent them the entire night. It was always Ryoma attached to his chest, and Yamato sprawled with his head on his thighs, and his feet on Satoru. Then, when they woke up, Yamato would either attempt to crawl under his shirt, or cuddle Satoru. Ryoma stayed with him the entire time, pawing the sheets to make sure Satoru was there, too.
He wanted it back. He wasn’t ready to stop being a father to little ones. His dream since he was young was to have a big family. Maybe four. But considering how hard it was with two at twenty, they waited. And the waiting went past a time they were both stable enough for another. But he set his foot down one day, seemingly in-sync with Satoru, who brought it up first.
A big, resounding ‘yes’. And so here they were, expecting their third. Their little mystery child, keeping them on their toes. Soon-to-be evicted. Hopefully sooner than later. Suguru dreaded going over the due date. Both his boys went past it. Not too long, exactly a week for both. But it was so annoying having to walk up and down the curb outside in an attempt to induce his labour.
Suguru was brought out of his thoughts by Ryoma letting out a little grumble.
“As if I would choose to go with you,” he said, staring at his father. The other one.
Suguru looked behind himself at Satoru, who pouted.
“Nah, I know.” Satoru nodded, taking his shirt. “You both would go with Suguru. I’d want that, anyway.”
“Oh, but papa, you can Facetime us every day,” Yamato said, mostly joking as he snickered.
Satoru snorted, patting his son as he passed.
“You wouldn’t want us?”
Satoru stopped dead in his steps. He turned, frowning at Ryoma. “Huh?”
“No, I just…”
“That’s not what I meant,” Satoru tried, walking over to his son. He tapped his forehead. “Your dad would be lonely without you.”
“And you?” Yamato asked, peeking from behind his brother.
Satoru smiled cheekily. “I’d be outside begging you all to take me back.”
Suguru noticed that with just a little tap, Satoru had calmed Ryoma’s nerves. His warm, enveloping scent was permeating. Words just weren’t enough, sometimes, so Satoru made sure that there were other ways he could show just how much he loved them.
But sometimes, words were needed, too.
“I’d just do what’s best for you two,” Satoru continued, walking into his bedroom to finally get changed. “Why would I ever think of what I want?”
Satoru closed the door behind himself and Suguru stood still. And his boys, too, were still. Then Ryoma moved, ruffling Yamato’s hair before he walked down the stairs. Yamato let out a sound of protest, then went back into his room, but not before sending his dad some worried glances. Suguru schooled his scent in an instant, following Satoru.
“Satoru.”
His husband was fixing his hair in the mirror of the closet, turning at his call.
“Are you alright?”
“What do you mean?”
“No, I mean…” Suguru tried to find his words, taking slow steps towards Satoru. “You said something worrisome, is all. Did I upset you out there?”
He knew their boys could never upset Satoru. So, the only logical answer would be if he himself said something. Or if it’s a case of not saying anything. Maybe he should’ve been more assertive with the boys.
“No,” Satoru said in an instant, glancing at him.
He wasn’t used to Satoru being curt with him. Not one bit. The only times he resorted to one-word answers was when he was stressed or irritated. And, well, he seemed irritated. No matter how much he hid it in his scent, there were so many other ways for Suguru to be able to scope Satoru’s mood.
“Can I ask why –”
“I’m fine, Suguru!” Satoru’s expression was nothing short of plain annoyed. “Why do you always have to ask?”
While his voice was calm. Comforting, even. Suguru couldn’t help it. Satoru knew a big complex of his was people secretly disliking him. It was irrational, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help feeling like people were just pretending to be his friends or pretending to tolerate him. He felt perpetually annoying. And this didn’t help, especially coming from his favourite person.
The tears welled up before he could control himself. Satoru wasn’t looking, so he turned around and walked out before he could let out a sob. His lips trembled, and he really tried to swallow it all down, but the moment he walked downstairs and reached the kitchen, he broke down.
He hated for his children to see him emotional, but he really couldn’t stop it. Ryoma was digging into the refrigerator when he heard him cry, instantly closing it.
“Dad?” he asked, by his side in a flash. “What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”
Precious Ryoma couldn’t fathom his own father being the cause of his tears. Even if he didn’t mean to. Satoru’s intentions were always pure with him, so he would pretend to not make things sourer between his eldest and his father.
“I’m okay, it hurts a little,” he said, holding the underside of his belly. He allowed Ryoma to wipe his tears, feeling too dizzy to think ahead. “Did you eat?”
Ryoma shook his head, looking at him closely. “Are you really asking me that right now? Where’s Satoru?”
“Are we looking for me?” Satoru asked, looking at the scene before him. Then, in a split second, he dropped the bag in his hand and ran up to Suguru. Even though he couldn’t see his face, he could sense it. “Suguru? What’s wrong?!”
He turned, instantly feeling his throat constrict seeing Satoru’s worried face. He wanted to sob in his mate’s arms. It was so dumb. He felt so stupid.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” Satoru whispered, softly holding his wrist. He gently pulled him in, and Suguru was weak to it.
Satoru peppered the side of his head with kisses, holding him close to his body. There wasn’t a spot on Earth that felt safer than this. He wrapped his arms around his husband, letting out a weak sob. Ryoma took his leave then, his scent retracting in favour of Satoru’s more dominant, territorial one. This was about his mate.
“I’m sorry,” Suguru mumbled, trying to hold his sobs in. But his voice was wet, and he felt a pressure in his head from doing so. “Don’t… I love you.”
“What?” Satoru asked, sounding confused. “I love you, too… But why are you… And what are you sorry for?
He closed his eyes when Satoru put his warm hand on his cold ear, pushing him to his chest. It was hard for him to express himself. It had always been like that. But Satoru made it easy, though it hadn’t always been easy. He learned to trust his mate, slowly over the years. There were just things that were different after they became bonded. Even the trust he had in Satoru as a friend shifted. He had to relearn everything he knew about Satoru and teach himself to trust him once again.
It wasn’t easy for him to trust alphas. After all, they did nothing but halt his progress in life. Being friends with an alpha was a first for him. Genuinely just friends. He had never been comfortable enough with one to call them his friend. But Satoru was so different, as cliché as it sounded. Even his scent was special, so soft and yet all-consuming. Suguru was guilty of scent marking things in school he knew Satoru used, in hopes of gaining his attention.
In conclusion, Suguru trusted Satoru with his feelings. With his heart. With what being with someone like him meant. He was secure in his bond with Satoru – in their marriage. But still, he sometimes wondered if Satoru’s life would’ve been so much better if he hadn’t bonded with him. Especially since it happened so suddenly. At least he’d never forget the night they created Ryoma.
“I didn’t know,” Satoru said, pulling him back to look into his eyes. His pretty, wispy lashes fluttered. “I’m sorry, Suguru, my love.”
Suguru lips twitched into a smile. A hesitant one. “Why are you sorry?”
His husband pouted, resting his head back on his chest. He swayed them, making sure to soothe him with his scent. The best version of it. The kind that even had the baby in his stomach turning and pushing a hand against him. As if greeting.
“I didn’t notice,” Satoru whispered, cupping his cheek. He caressed the apple of his cheek with his thumb, wiping the remnants of his tears away. “I thought you were mad, I’m such an idiot…”
He sighed in response. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Satoru hummed deeply, his chest rumbling against his ear. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Are you okay?”
“Aside from you being mean as fuck…”
“No…” Satoru whined, squeezing his head. He pinched his arm then, smiling when Satoru loosened his grip. “Let’s talk later, okay? I really can’t stay a minute longer.”
Suguru nodded, pulling away. He rubbed his belly, and Satoru had already realised he did that when he was nervous, or stressed, or thinking about something.
“I love you more than life itself, Suguru,” Satoru said, kissing his forehead. He felt the reluctance to leave in his mate. “Don’t think about anything weird, okay?”
It was weird how it worked. Satoru was both his source of stress – because he loved him so much – and his ultimate comfort. But Satoru worried him at times. He kept taking the biggest blows in their family, always smiling, and letting it occur. All because he thought that’s what an alpha had to do to keep his herd happy. But that was outdated thinking.
Suguru hoped that things would get better soon. That Ryoma would start calling his father ‘papa’ again, that Yamato would stop trying to challenge them all the time, and that this baby could be born so he could be the attentive mate that his husband deserved.
Because the way Satoru loved was so grand, Suguru wanted to give him everything.