Every single aspect of Shane Hollander's pregnancy makes Ilya's heart feel like it's being suplexed out of his ass. Post-TLG, ~5k, E. On AO3 here.
Some notes: Biology? Medicine? I don't know them. We are playing fast and loose with how exactly cis men can get pregnant and give birth, kids!
Ilya makes a couple of references to the Olympics and how many Stanley Cups he's won. While I don't have an exact timeline for this fic, we're in at least 2027 here, maybe 2028. Team Canada won gold at the 2026 Milano-Cortina Winter Olympics.
Title is from Taylor Swift's "Guilty as Sin?" (Very Hollanov-coded, though maybe not in this context...)
For you, @chaossmagic! <3 <3 <3
Forget about emergency plane landings or potential motorcycle accidents. Shane himself was going to be the death of Ilya, he was almost certain.
“Yeah - yeah, come on, harder, Daddy, please!” Shane’s hands clenched against the headboard to the point that Ilya expected to hear the dark wood snap beneath him. Ilya’s own hands fastened tighter on Shane’s hips, their bodies moving so quickly that he wasn’t sure whether Shane was riding him or he was hauling Shane up and down his cock. Tears glistened in Shane’s big brown eyes, turning Ilya into a man possessed.
“Harder?” he growled before flipping them over. He used one hand to cradle Shane’s head, making sure he didn’t smack it on the unforgiving headboard, while the other hauled Shane’s right leg over his shoulder. Shane shuddered and whimpered some little uh-uh-uhs, his body going lax as Ilya drove into him with a relentless, unforgiving rhythm. “Is this what my baby boy wanted?”
“Want-” Shane broke off and moaned. Ilya bent to lick up one of the tear tracks now running down Shane’s cheeks, relishing the salty taste. “Want it to take, want you to - to-”
“To knock you up?” Ilya said softly, dangerously, right into Shane’s ear. “Want to be full of my seed, to have my baby in your womb? To have this little belly grow big and round, proof that the first thing hockey legend Shane Hollander did after he retired was get fucked into the mattress by his husband?”
Shane wailed at that, scratching helplessly down Ilya’s back. “Please. Please, Ilya, waited long enough!”
“Shh, baby. Daddy won’t make you wait any longer.” Ilya refocused his energy on thrusting into Shane’s tight, wet hole. “My sweet boy has been so good, captaining teams, winning Cups, building our empire. Now it’s time for this perfect body to have a new job, yes? To bring next generation of hockey dynasty into the world.”
“Yes, yes, I can see - can see our baby.” Shane’s eyes were hazy when he gasped and then came with an almost feral groan, his release painting both of their chests. “Make it real, Ilya, give it to me, please, I want it!”
Ilya’s own sight clouded for a moment as he envisioned holding his husband while a newborn nestled in Shane’s arms, tiny and flawless and blinking up at him with Shane’s exact doe eyes. He wanted that dream to become real more than he’d wanted Ottawa to win a Cup, than he’d wanted to win MVP one last time and be able to thank the love of his life on stage in front of Roger Crowell and everyone.
And Shane wanted it too.
He couldn’t deny his husband anything. Ilya’s hips stuttered, and he came with a shout, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he thought it might explode and come out of his dick next. When he had ridden out the high of his orgasm, he collapsed on top of Shane, and they both let out a satisfied grunt. Shane’s hands came up to play with Ilya’s hair.
“I am dead, Hollander. You will have to be single father,” Ilya said, nuzzling into the side of Shane’s neck. “Hey!”
Ilya looked up at Shane with a pout, rubbing the spot on the side of his head that Shane had (somewhat gently) smacked.
“We don’t know if it took yet, Rozanov,” Shane said primly. “And even if you did knock me up on our first try, I’m not raising our baby without you, so you’re going to have to suck it up and deal.”
“Of course I got you pregnant on our first try. I am Olympic medalist. I have champion sperm.” Ilya shot Shane a faux-offended look, making Shane look away and pretend he wasn’t laughing.
“So you don’t think we need a second round, then?” Shane asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Well, just to be sure….”
Ilya leaned up and seized Shane’s mouth in a heated kiss. He knew they wouldn’t know for sure if Shane was pregnant by the time they needed to leave for brunch with Yuna and David the next morning, but whatever happened, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.
After all, Ilya hadn’t become a five-time Stanley Cup winner by half-assing things.
_______________________
A few weeks later, the sound of vomiting echoing off the tiles of their bathroom woke Ilya up faster than any cup of coffee he’d ever had.
“Shane?” Ilya was on his feet and in their en-suite before he’d had the conscious thought to get out of bed. “Oh, malysh.”
Shane was gripping their toilet like it was the only thing anchoring him to the earth. His hair was matted with sweat, and when he looked up at Ilya, his eyes were miserable and watery.
Ilya dropped to his knees and gathered Shane into his arms. “Do you have a fever? Hurt anywhere? How long have you been in here?”
“You woke up about ten minutes after I did,” Shane said, eyes falling shut as he snuggled tiredly into Ilya’s bare chest, his arms wrapped around Ilya’s shoulders. “I think I’m done now. Nothing hurts, pretty sure I don’t have a fever.”
“You’re a little warm,” Ilya said as he pressed the inside of his wrist to Shane’s clammy forehead. “But not too hot, I don’t think. You didn’t feel weird after dinner last night?”
“We ate the same thing, genius, it can’t be food poisoning,” Shane pointed out, his tone not quite as biting as it could be. “I think I need you to run to the pharmacy for me.”
“Yes, of course, what do you need? We have Tylenol, I think, and probably antacids?” Ilya used the side of the tub to get enough leverage to stand up without letting Shane go. He probably needed to be a little more careful about lifting now that he was a former professional athlete, but there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d allow his sick husband out of arm’s reach.
Shane shot Ilya an unimpressed look as he carried him back to their bed. “Ilya. Baby. You run your mouth about knocking me up every chance you get, but you don’t think I might need a pregnancy test when I wake up with morning sickness?”
Ilya accidentally dropped Shane flat on his back instead of lowering him gently onto the mattress like he’d intended. Shane yelped and flailed slightly, somehow both adorable and agitated.
“Pregnancy test?” Ilya repeated, almost inaudibly. “You think-”
“I think everything smells funny and my chest is sore and I just threw up for no reason,” Shane said, voice whiny. “And you dropped me.”
“I’m sorry,” Ilya said immediately. He swooped down and pressed a kiss to Shane’s hair, then ran into their closet and threw on the first sweatshirt and pair of pants he saw. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, dorogoy. You need a pregnancy test. Anything else?”
“Ginger ale. And a Snickers bar? No, Reese’s.” A line had formed between Shane’s eyebrows as he considered what candy he wanted. Ilya wanted to shrink him down and swallow him whole, keep him safely tucked away in his ribcage with his other vital organs.
“Shane. We’re multimillionaires. I can buy both. I can buy one of every chocolate bar in the store, if that’s what you want.” Ilya couldn’t resist kissing the top of his head again. “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”
“You promise?” Shane looked tired and scared and cautiously excited all at once. Ilya thought he must have a similar look on his face, if he didn’t just look like he’d been hit by a bus.
“I swear,” Ilya said, drawing a cross over his heart with his fingers before tapping his crucifix pendant for good measure. “Rest. I’ll be right back.”
True to his word, Ilya practically flew to the corner store, grateful he and Shane popped in there often enough that no one would comment on his presence or the contents of his basket. They may have both retired, but he knew the internet would light up if a cashier or random customer spotted Canada’s own Ilya Rozanov buying a pregnancy test.
He grabbed what he needed and paid, sharing a quick smile with Linda at the register before booking it back home. When he re-entered their bedroom, Shane was curled up on his side, dozing.
“I’m back,” Ilya said softly, setting the shopping bag on the nightstand. Shane rolled over and blinked his eyes open, a sleepy smile appearing on his face.
“You got my candy?”
“And your ginger ale, and two pregnancy tests, just to be safe,” Ilya confirmed. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. No. But I’m going to do it anyway,” Shane said, pushing himself up and out of bed. He snagged the tests from the bag, then padded off to the bathroom. Ilya lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, figuring Shane might prefer his privacy for this part of the process.
When Shane returned, Ilya silently offered him an open can of ginger ale. Shane sat down next to Ilya and took a sip.
“Five minutes,” he said softly. “I set a timer on my watch.”
“And then?”
“One line means no, two lines mean yes.” Shane shifted his drink to his left hand so he could hold Ilya’s with his right. Ilya squeezed it once.
They sat side-by-side, lost in their thoughts, until the insistent beep of Shane’s watch timer signaled them to stand up and go back to the bathroom.
The white plastic wands stood out starkly against the dark stone of the countertop. Shane’s wide gaze met Ilya’s in the bathroom mirror.
“Three. Two. One,” Ilya counted, quiet yet firm, and they both glanced down at once.
Shane gasped. Ilya’s heart somehow swooped below his stomach and out of his throat at the same time.
Two tests. Two lines on each.
“I’m pregnant,” Shane whispered.
“You’re pregnant!” Ilya roared, scooping Shane up and spinning him in a tight circle, trying not to smack his legs against the cabinets. In his arms, Shane let out a wild sob.
“You’re going to be such a good father. I’m so excited to have a baby with you, holy shit.”
Ilya set Shane back on his feet before pulling him in for a deep kiss. “This is the happiest day of my life. I love you, sweetheart. Ya tebya lyublyu.”
Shane dissolved into tears against Ilya’s chest. Ilya’s own tears soaked Shane’s hair. The rest of the day was a blur of couch cuddles and kisses and half-formed ideas for decorating the nursery, each worse than the last.
Ilya never wanted to be anywhere else.
_______________________
Ilya was grateful they were in a medical facility, because he was afraid his heart was going to give out. He paced the short length of floor available to him, back and forth and back and forth.
“Hey. Heyyy. Come here,” Shane ordered from the bed in the middle of the exam room, reaching out his arms and making little grabby motions with his hands. As usual, Ilya couldn’t deny him anything. “It’s just an ultrasound. We’ll get to find out the sex of the baby today! Why are you so tense?”
“I - I don’t know,” Ilya said, running a hand over Shane’s hair. “It just feels more real now.”
“Oh, the volleyball sticking out of my stomach wasn’t real enough for you?” Shane teased, rubbing over the small yet prominent mound. “My constant demands for potato chips and brownie batter ice cream were just figments of your imagination?”
“Maybe. Only in my imagination did I ever think I’d hear you beg for sweets, after years of that ‘high performance diet,’” Ilya said, making sarcastic air quotes around the last few words. Shane whacked him in the solar plexus as Dr. Evans entered the room.
“I see you two are in your usual good spirits,” she said with an indulgent smile. “How’s the baby, Shane?”
“Good, I think,” Shane said carefully. “I just started feeling kicks the other day.”
Ilya smiled at the memory. He had sat with his hand on Shane’s stomach for over an hour after Shane had excitedly reported feeling movement, patiently waiting for their little grapefruit to do it again.
“Right on schedule,” Dr. Evans said, logging Shane’s response in her notes. “And your morning sickness has eased? No contractions? Sleeping okay?”
“Yes, yes, and as best I can,” Shane replied. “I’m starting to get some leg cramps, but Ilya has been a saint about helping me find comfortable positions and giving me massages.”
“Oh no, my beautiful husband needs my hands on his body to help him relax, I am having the worst time of my life,” Ilya fake-whined, making Dr. Evans snort.
“Yes, you’re clearly suffering the most from Shane’s pregnancy,” she said, flipping a switch and hitting a couple of buttons on the ultrasound machine next to the bed. “Okay. Are you two ready to find out the sex of your baby?”
Shane gave a quiet, enthusiastic “Yes.” Ilya just nodded, one of Shane’s hands clasped in both of his own.
Dr. Evans pushed Shane’s shirt up and motioned for him to adjust the waistband of his pants down a little. Once enough of his skin was bare, she scooped some jelly out of a tub next to the machine.
“This will be cold,” she warned. Ilya felt Shane’s hand clench briefly against his when the jelly hit his stomach. “Good. Try not to fidget as I move the transducer around, okay?”
Shane nodded, and Dr. Evans got to work. Ilya stared at the screen of the ultrasound machine, watching in wonder as shapes began to form out of the darkness. Thankfully, Dr. Evans narrated what exactly everything was.
“We’ve got the head up here, and the spine and torso stretching below it. One - no, two little arms waving there. Can you see them? Legs looking nice. Now we just hope the baby will turn a bit, give us a clear view - yes! There we go. Congratulations, Shane, Ilya. You’re having a little girl.”
Ilya thought his legs might give out. He squeezed Shane’s hand ferociously before bending down to smack kisses all over the top of his head. Beneath him, he could hear Shane crying softly.
“A daughter, Shane. A little girl. Nasha dochenka. Can you believe it?”
“No,” Shane said, tears still running down his cheeks. “No, it’s too good. It can’t possibly be real.”
“Believe it, boys,” Dr. Evans said gently. “I’ve saved the pictures to your account in the patient portal, Shane. You can look at her as much as you want.”
She quickly confirmed their next appointment and showed them where the tissues were, then left them to wipe both their faces and Shane’s belly. Ilya refused to let Shane clean himself up, tenderly clearing the tears from his cheeks and the goop from his stomach.
“We’ll shower when we get home, OK?”
Shane just nodded as Ilya swiped briskly at his own face. They gathered their things and left the doctor’s office holding hands; Ilya had to force himself out of their content little bubble to pay enough attention to the road as he drove them back to their house.
As they entered the house, holding hands once more, Ilya noticed Shane was staring intently at his phone. He squinted to see the screen better and saw-
“Oh.”
“I can’t stop looking at her. Is that weird?” Shane asked, turning his big doe eyes on Ilya. “I just can’t believe she’s real. That I didn’t miss my chance to have her by playing hockey for as long as I wanted to. That we’re finally having a kid together.”
“Shane.” Ilya cut him off with a kiss. “This is real, yes? We had great careers, we got to play together and win two Cups on our terms, and we found so many people who love and support us unconditionally. You have earned this happiness and more. We have earned this happiness and more. This baby? She is what we worked for this whole time, whether we knew it or not.”
Shane was a blubbering mess by the end of Ilya’s speech. Ilya himself wasn’t much more composed, and he couldn’t even blame it on pregnancy hormones.
“Come. Shower, and then we share ultrasound with Mom and Dad before Yuna beats down our door and demands to see it.”
“I didn’t put this appointment on the family calendar,” Shane said, sniffling and laughing at the same time. “She won’t know.”
“Yes, but I did,” Ilya said, pulling Shane up the stairs. “Because I am Mom’s favorite son.”
“You’re such a suck-up!”
“Mm, I can think of other things I can suck once we’re in the shower. Your poor cock, neglected while your big belly gets all this attention-”
“Shut up and strip.” Shane whipped his shirt off as they entered the bathroom and fired it at Ilya’s head.
“Yes, dear.”
_______________________
Ilya was trying very hard not to touch Shane. It was probably a losing battle.
Eight and a half months into Shane’s pregnancy, all Ilya wanted to do was keep Shane bundled safely in their bed with one of his boring hockey books and some snacks and a mug of herbal tea. If Shane was there, he couldn’t be hit by a car or trip over the feet he now couldn’t see or catch some kind of rare disease at the grocery store, all thoughts Ilya had been plagued by recently.
Unfortunately for him, Shane was bound and determined to remain mobile to the very end, if only because sitting still wasn’t any more comfortable for him than walking. He had whined and pleaded and cajoled Ilya until he agreed to walk with Shane to the end of their street and back, “for the fresh air.”
Ilya thought an open window also provided plenty of fresh air, but Shane said the baby had kicked when they were discussing a walk, and that meant Ilya was outvoted two to one.
“Elections in Russia are less corrupt,” Ilya muttered as they walked slowly down their driveway.
“What was that?” Shane asked. He was cradling his belly in his arms, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his hips and legs as he waddled carefully next to Ilya.
“Nothing. Are you enjoying the walk, moy lyubov?”
“God, it feels good to be outside,” Shane said, turning his face up to the sun. Ilya’s heart clenched as his freckles came into stark relief. “Oh!”
Ilya dove for Shane, who flung out a hand to stop him.
“I’m fine!” he said after a moment. The hand he had fended Ilya off with moved to his lower back. “Really. Just stiff.”
“Shane. If you cannot make it down the driveway without pain, we are not walking all the way down the street.”
“I can do it! It’s only like a block and a half,” Shane insisted. Ilya didn’t try to hide his disapproval. “This time last year, I was skating suicides.”
“This time last year, you were not full-term pregnant,” Ilya said darkly, but he let them continue down the long circle of their drive.
Seven steps later, Shane stopped and moaned again. Ilya saw his knees buckle ever so slightly.
“Enough.” Ilya bundled Shane into his arms and turned them back toward their front door. When Shane didn’t put up a fight, he sped up, half-carrying, half-dragging Shane back to their couch. “Sit.”
Ilya quickly grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen before returning to Shane’s side. During the few moments he was gone, Shane had managed to settle himself with his back against the far armrest of the couch and a throw pillow under his knees. Ilya removed the throw pillow and settled Shane’s legs in his own lap, handing him the water.
“No more walks,” Ilya decreed, watching Shane’s throat work.
“I can’t just sit here and rot for a couple of weeks,” Shane whined, setting the glass on the side table behind him. “Even just going down the driveway and back had my heart rate up, Ilya.”
“You want your heart rate up?” Ilya dropped Shane’s legs to climb over his body like a wolf. “There are other options.”
He lowered his head to Shane’s, kissing him and immediately shoving his tongue in his mouth. Shane moaned beneath him.
“That’s right. Good boy,” Ilya crooned. He kissed down Shane’s chest and stomach, then paused long enough to separate Shane’s legs.
“Ilya!”
“Are you enjoying your exercise?” Ilya swiped his tongue over Shane’s entrance. Shane shuddered against him. “Is your heart beating faster now?”
“Please - inside me-”
“Whatever my baby wants,” Ilya said with a smirk. He dedicated himself to Shane’s pleasure, teasing at his rim with fingers and tongue before delving in and using the full pressure of his jaw to open his husband up. Shane screamed.
“So good. Feels so good, Ilya, gonna- I’m gonna-”
Ilya pressed the tip of his pointer finger in alongside his tongue and felt Shane’s orgasm hit. Shane’s thighs clenched around Ilya’s head, almost smothering him. He couldn’t imagine a better way to go.
“How was that, malysh?” Ilya asked when he could finally break free from Shane’s lower body. “Good workout?”
“I don’t think I can get off this couch now,” Shane replied. Ilya maneuvered so he was sitting up properly with Shane across his lap, relishing in the pliancy of Shane’s limbs. For his part, Shane snuggled into Ilya like they might be able to become one form, his face buried in the crook where Ilya’s neck met his shoulder.
“Ah, then my work here is done.” Ilya ran his hand down Shane’s back with slow, firm strokes.
“What about you?” Shane asked, one hand making its way drunkenly toward Ilya’s crotch.
“I’m OK, baby. Really,” Ilya said, diverting Shane’s hand to wrap around his shoulders. “Rest now.”
“Okay,” Shane sighed. “Don’t leave.”
“Never.” Ilya kissed Shane’s hair, then settled more comfortably into the couch. Shane’s cuddly pregnancy hormones had eased as their daughter’s due date grew nearer, his discomfort with the size and shape of his body outweighing his desire to be close to Ilya at all times. If Ilya had to play a little dirty to resurrect those feelings, then so be it.
Honestly, who could resist the opportunity to have a sweet, relaxed Shane Hollander in their arms?
_______________________
Ilya had always suspected Shane Hollander would be the death of him. He looked at Shane and felt all these emotions - anticipation, excitement, fear, lust, gratitude, love. One of these days, his heart would simply give out from the weight of it all. He was prepared for this.
He hadn’t considered the possibility of Shane actively murdering him.
“I am never doing this again,” Shane snarled. His hand clamped down on Ilya’s and squeezed well past the point of pain. Ilya genuinely thought he might have a couple of broken fingers. “I’m instituting a ban on sex, actually. At least a year. Maybe two.”
“Shane, sweetheart, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Ilya teased. He tried to run his free hand over Shane’s hair, but Shane turned his head and growled at him before he could make contact.
“Don’t. Test. Me.”
Ilya took an involuntary step back from the bed. Across from him, the anesthesiologist straightened and pushed Shane’s shoulder gently, indicating he could lie down again.
“There, that’s the epidural started. You should start feeling some pain relief in about fifteen minutes.” She put the pump in Shane’s left hand. “Now, the medication will flow as long as you’re in labor, but if you need a little extra at any point, just hit the button. Dr. Evans will be in shortly to check your dilation, okay?”
“Thank you,” Ilya said quietly, and the anesthesiologist stood back, giving them as much privacy as she could. “Can I get you anything, lyubimyy? Ice chips? I left your bag in the car, but I could go-”
“If you even think about leaving this room, I will have you neutered. Come back here.” Shane held his hand out, and Ilya brought it to his lips for a kiss.
“You don’t want me, you want me. I hate to say I’m getting mixed messages, moy lyubov, but-”
“Shut up. You know I always want you. I just wish wanting you nine months ago didn’t lead to feeling like I’m being ripped open from the inside now.” Shane groaned as another contraction hit. Ilya could only try to make soothing noises and allow his hand to be mangled once more.
“Where’s Dr. Evans?”
“Right here.” Ilya had never been so happy to see a woman appear at the door in his life. “Let’s see if it’s time yet, Shane.”
She snapped on some gloves and gestured to the nurse who had entered behind her to help her get Shane’s feet in the stirrups at the end of the bed. Ilya moved to wrap his left arm around Shane’s shoulders, their right hands remaining clasped.
“Ten centimeters. You’re having a nice, quick labor, Shane!”
Shane made a disbelieving noise. Dr. Evans laughed.
“I know it doesn’t feel that way from your perspective, but believe me, things are moving right along. On your next contraction, I want some little pushes, okay? We need to get the head out carefully. Ilya, help him with the breathing.”
“With me, sweetheart, yes?” Ilya tapped Shane’s jawline with his left hand. “Look at me. Just like this.”
Ilya started the shallow, rhythmic breathing pattern he and Shane had been practicing. A moment later, Shane joined in, never breaking eye contact.
“Little pushes!” Dr. Evans called. Shane grunted, rhythm faltering briefly. Ilya just kept breathing. “That’s great, Shane, so close - the head is out!”
Shane let out a sob. Ilya couldn’t resist kissing his forehead and whispering “That’s right, baby, good job.”
“With the next contraction, I want a push with all you’ve got, Shane, okay?” Dr. Evans continued. “One good push, maybe two, and your daughter will be in the world with us.”
Your daughter. With us.
The words echoed in Ilya’s head, pulling him out of his surroundings. He was finally about to meet his daughter, Shane’s daughter, after nine long months-
“Push, Shane!” The firm instructions brought Ilya back. He started babbling encouragement to his husband, nonsensical bits of Russian and English, as he rubbed soothing circles into Shane’s shoulder. Shane was wailing directly into his ear, but he didn’t care. Who needed perfect hearing when they were about to meet their baby?
“And - she’s - here!” Dr. Evans finally said. Ilya vaguely noticed some action at the foot of the bed - cutting the umbilical cord, maybe? - but the bulk of his attention was on Shane, who had gone boneless with an adrenaline crash. He looked exhausted and sweaty and so, so perfect. “Say hello to your daddies, baby girl.”
Dr. Evans set the baby in Shane’s arms, and she instantly stopped fussing. Ilya peered into his daughter’s face for the first time and felt the entire axis of his world shift.
Before, his life had centered on one person. Ilya cared about people who weren’t Shane, of course, but at the end of the day, he made decisions based on what was best for himself and his husband, full stop. His whole heart lived in Shane’s chest.
With one blink, their perfect baby girl claimed half of his heart for her own, and somehow doubled - no, quadrupled - his capability for love.
“Irina,” Shane said. When he looked up at Ilya from the bed, his big doe eyes were overflowing. “Her name is Irina.”
“Shane. Are you sure? We already have the foundation - and she’s Yuna’s granddaughter, too-” Ilya broke off, searching Shane’s face for any sign that he was naming this baby out of pure obligation. All he could see was love and pride and fierce determination.
“Ilya. When you go through hours of labor before shoving a football out of your body, you can have final say on the name, but as it stands-”
Ilya tilted Shane’s face up and kissed him like he was drowning and Shane was a life vest.
“Irina Hollander-Rozanov. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. How could she not be, when she’s half you?”
“And half you,” Shane said with a soft smile. “Look, I think she’s got your curls.”
“She’s got your brown eyes, too. How am I supposed to resist two sets of those pleading eyes?” Ilya traced a finger gently down Irina’s arm.
“Shane, we’ve got to deliver the placenta,” Dr. Evans interjected softly. “Give Irina to Ilya for a minute, okay?”
“I read skin-to-skin contact was best after birth,” Ilya said, tearing his eyes away from Irina to look at the doctor. “Is that true?”
Dr. Evans nodded, and Ilya whipped his shirt off and tossed it behind him. Shane let out a sound that was somewhere between choking and cackling.
“Doctor said is best. Who am I to argue?” Ilya chirped. He eased Irina from Shane’s arms and took a seat in the little armchair off to the side of the room, not trusting himself to stand just yet with such a precious bundle.
“Like you need another reason to never wear a shirt at home,” Shane said fondly.
“I’m sorry, you dislike this about me? I have never heard you complain. Opposite, really.”
“Shhh. Don't be a bad example in front of our daughter.”
“She can't understand us yet,” Ilya grumbled weakly. He fell into a reverent silence as he stared at his daughter, his little Irinochka, sleeping safely in his arms. He could already see her running off to kindergarten, slamming kids against the boards at hockey camp, blowing him a kiss as she went to her first school dance. The joy he felt was all-consuming, like a fire burning him alive, somehow both pleasure and pain.
promise that we'll never be apart by golden_hestia [G]
“You’ve been glued to my side since I got here yesterday and are currently laying on top of me.”
Nick turned his head back and cracked an eye open, giving Charlie that very lopsided smile that made him feel fizzy on the inside. “Well, I guess I can’t help that either. I like being close to you.”
“More like you need to be close to me.” Charlie couldn’t help the excited flutter of his heart, knowing that he adored Nick so dearly and that the adoration was returned so willingly and effortlessly from Nick. “Because you’re clingy.”
Nick scoffed and hid his face in Charlie’s chest. “We aren’t having this argument again, Char. I’m not clingy.”
--
Nick and Charlie spend a quiet afternoon in bed trying to answer the age-old question of who really is the clingy one in their relationship.
❧ word count: 11.8k
❧ warnings: cursing
❧ genre: fluff, modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au if you squint, werewolf jeno, human reader, ft. various other magical dreamies & neos and human!renjun (and an extra special guest appearance), hybrid au adjacent? (you’ll see what i mean, but i swear he’s a big bad werewolf), same universe as strawberry sunday
❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)
❧ author’s note: and here’s werewolf jeno too! continuing my big baby jeno agenda in this one so please take care of him, y’all <;33
❧ sequel
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
Your friend’s eye roll was practically audible over the phone. “Just because I’m a Magical Creature Studies major doesn’t mean I’m a werewolf doctor, Y/N. I study them in a sociocultural context—”
“He’s grown ears and a tail, Renjun. Not wolf ones.”
Unlocking the back door to the bakery, you flicked on the light switch by the doorway. Immediately, the kitchen was illuminated, and you dumped your bag on a stool to root through it. You secured your navy blue apron from inside it, putting it over your neck then fastening the straps around your waist, now ready to start your opening checklist. The idea of a 4 a.m. opening shift should’ve made you shudder, but you always came into Half Moon Bakery with a bounce in your step despite the distinct lack of sunlight.
The first thing was to preheat the ovens: separate ones for yeast breads that needed more moisture, and sweets like cookies, muffins, and cakes that didn’t. You took the yeast doughs out of the fridge first that you’d prepared yesterday. It was all muscle memory, turning and shaping the dough with your hands and bread scraper. After shaping loaf after loaf after loaf, you put those aside for their final proof, then started on the sweets. Some had also been prepared the night before by the closing shift, whichever cookie doughs needed to sit overnight before being shaped. In the mornings, you mixed up the doughs and batters that didn’t need to be chilled prior to baking.
By the time the bread was finished proofing, you had usually at least spooned out your first batch of cookies as well. Those went in the sweets ovens first, then you turned to scoring the loaves before putting those in the bread oven. And it was usually at this point that you were entirely on autopilot, operating solely on dings of timers, no other units of time or place really having meaning to you.
You only knew that it was 6 a.m. when your coworker arrived. The employee entrance opened again while you were setting a hot pan of blueberry lemon scones down, Lee Jeno stepping through. He pushed some of his hair out of his eyes sleepily, lifting a hand in your direction in greeting.
“Morning, Jeno!” You chirped, pausing the music blaring from your phone.
He mumbled something akin to ‘morning’ back as he dropped his own apron around his neck then fumbled with tying the knot around his waist.
“You are never going to be a morning wolf, huh?” You sighed, grabbing the other pans that were in the oven.
“No,” he shook his head. “‘S too early.”
“What if I told you, that I…” You set down the pan of chocolate chunk cookies you just took out, then darted over to a different counter. A plate was there, a single broken sugar cookie on it. If the cookie were whole, it would have been half-dipped in chocolate to look like a half-moon. But alas, this one didn’t make it.
You held the plate out towards Jeno. “…Saved you a discard.”
The werewolf visibly perked up at this. “Really?”
“It’s not peanut butter, sorry.”
He rushed over to take the plate from you. “I can have it?”
“Yeah, Jeno,” you chuckled. “I accidentally snapped it trying to take it off the baking sheet. Better it go in this garbage disposal than the actual garbage.”
You poked his stomach on the word ‘this,’ earning an indignant scowl from him. Which didn’t have the intended effect, as he already had stuffed the entire cookie in his mouth.
“Thanks, Y/N,” Jeno said once he’d swallowed the food in his mouth. “I didn’t have much for breakfast.”
“Oh?” You frowned as you returned to your station, starting on preparing the icings to drizzle over the batches you’d just taken out. Werewolves usually had quite the appetite compared to humans, Jeno must be starving. “Were you running late or something? You could’ve eaten, I wouldn’t have minded if you were a couple minutes late.”
“No, I just… I don’t know, wasn’t that hungry.” He shrugged, starting to go about his own opening tasks.
“Who are you and what have you done with Jeno?” You pointed a whisk at him accusatorily as he opened up the storeroom.
He laughed. “I’m serious, though. It was weird, I made breakfast but when I sat down to eat I just… didn’t want to.”
“You seemed to handle that cookie just fine at least.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, voice slightly muffled as he took a couple steps inside the storage room to tally up the ingredients. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to turn down your baking, Y/N.”
You grinned to yourself as you whisked up the lemon icing for the scones. “Aw, thanks, Jeno.”
“Seriously, I don’t know how Mr. Minseok and I managed before you came along.”
“You seem to be forgetting that Minseok bakes. And very well, too,” you scoffed, referring to your sphinx boss. He had started the bakery by himself some years ago and Jeno had been his very first hire when he realized he couldn’t handle the front and back at the same time. You’d only started at the bakery a little less than a year ago, having been a passionate home baker who needed extra income now that you were in school. It was the summer right now though, between spring and fall semesters so you found yourself at the bakery most days.
“I know, I know. But like half our menu is your recipes now. And you improved some of Mr. Minseok’s.”
“Okay, improved is a choice word there, I streamlined the process a litt—”
Jeno emerged from the storeroom with a big sack of flour over his shoulder, and you completely lost the rest of that sentence as your eyes were drawn like magnets to where the muscles in his arm flexed and tensed. The sleeve of his white t-shirt—the same one you were wearing, with a small half-moon embroidered above the cuff—strained a little around the bulge of his bicep, veins crisscrossing his skin like roots of a tree.
“Y/N?” Jeno tilted his head curiously. This was truly so unfair; he was simultaneously looking like a confused puppy while holding a bag of flour one-handed that would take two humans to carry normally. “That’s a lot of icing on that scone.”
You looked down at where your hand had frozen over a scone, the spoon that you’d been drizzling icing with now pooling and entirely covering one with it instead. “Oh, shit!”
Picking up the scone, you held it over the icing bowl to shake and scrape off as much as you could, taking a few deep breaths.
“Anyway, this is our last bag of bread flour, and we’ve only got half a bag of whole wheat. We need to order some more?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You kept a laser focus on the scones as you went back to drizzling, refusing to look up at Jeno or his stupid big, stupid strong werewolf muscles. “Uhm, two bags of bread flour, one whole wheat. And how are we looking on all-purpose?”
“Still got three bags.”
“Order a bag of that just in case.”
“Heard, chef!” You could see him salute you in your peripheral vision before disappearing back in the storeroom.
After finishing his back of the house opening tasks, Jeno went to start to open the front of the bakery. You, very thankfully, didn’t do much in the front of the house. People in general were alright, but you’d much rather deal with dough and batter, and hear secondhand from Jeno how much everyone supposedly enjoyed what you baked and how delicious they apparently thought it was. You still had a job, so you figured that the customers liked your food just fine, at least. Sometimes you’d be called in as a very last resort to cover a front house worker’s shift, but usually the only times you ever emerged from the kitchens was to drop new batches off in the cases, then you’d disappear again.
Jeno popped in and out to take the food out to the display cases as it got closer and closer to opening, then dropped off an empty tray without picking up a new one.
“T-minus ten minutes until opening,” he informed you with a bright smile, disappearing back through the swinging door to the front for the last time this morning.
You knew it was 7 a.m. when you heard the quaint coffee shop playlist Jeno always put on start to filter in from the front. There wasn’t always a customer right at opening, so you usually relied on the music to reorient yourself in time. Chatter from the front would rise and fall as waves of customers came in and left, but you just kept working on your batches and washing up between them. Now with the bulk of your baking done for the morning, you had a lot of cleaning to do.
Minseok’s arrival let you know that it was 8 a.m., you were already 4 hours into your shift. Your boss came in through the employee entrance as you were dipping some now cooled half-moon cookies in chocolate.
“Morning, Minseok!” You greeted him with a grin.
“You know, Y/N,” he stopped in the middle of the kitchens to turn to you. “I will never doubt my decision to hire you. You know why?”
“Uh... why?”
“Who else could I possible give the 4 a.m. opening shift to and they would still give me such a nice greeting every single time?” He chuckled. “You should’ve seen Jeno’s face the first time I told him what time I open the bakery at.”
“Oh, yeah, he doesn’t seem to be a morning person.”
“You kidding me? Kid asks for the morning shift now,” he snorted, shuffling over to inspect the cookies you were dipping. “Jeno used to be about ready to rip my throat out with his teeth whenever I had him open with me.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Really?”
“Really,” he confirmed. “Though that was the early days of the bakery, you know, when he was just my hormonal teenage summer hire because I was doing his dad a favor and needed someone to work the register while I baked.”
“Now it’s almost like you two are a real business or something.”
Minseok laughed, his sharp canines glinting in the fluorescents. “Almost. Anyway, I’ll be in the office. Holler if you need me.”
You knew it was 11 a.m. when another coworker arrived. It usually cycled between a few different front house workers, and today it was Donghyuck, a dryad friend of Jeno’s who was a newer hire. You waved at him as best you could with two soapy hands, cleaning while a new batch of bread dough bulk proofed. A second front house worker usually came in a little before the lunch rush to help out, make sure whoever opened could take their break, and take over when their shift finished.
A little while later, Jeno came into the back, stretching and groaning. He took his apron off, hanging it on a hook against the wall by Minseok’s office door.
“That time already?” You asked knowingly.
“Yep. Lunch?” Jeno grabbed his keys from his pocket, spinning them around on his finger.
“Wish I could, but these loaves are going to finish proofing in like half an hour,” you sighed wistfully.
“I’ll go bring something back for us.”
“Oh, Jeno, you should go enjoy your lunch break away from work,” you tried to insist.
He made a face. “All by myself? How would I enjoy that? No, I’d rather hang out with you. Now, what do you want?”
Sat on two stools in the small, usually unused breakroom attached to the kitchen with Jeno, you bit into your sandwich gleefully.
“How do you not get tired of bread after working here?” He asked, peeling up one of the slices of his own sandwich.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just like it. Isn’t that kind of part of the job requirements?”
“Mm... good point.”
You were halfway through your sandwich when you realized that Jeno had barely taken a bite of his. The most he’d done was pick a little bit at the fillings, but he really had just been chatting with you. Normally he would have already devoured his, and been pretending not to be eyeing yours.
“Jeno? Aren’t you going to eat?” You asked, gently pushing the food towards him by the wrapper.
He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I don’t... want to...”
You set your lunch down. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I feel fine,” he nodded. “I’m just not very hungry.”
Concerned, you stood up and headed towards the door that led back into the kitchen. “Wait here.”
You went over to the cooling racks, searching for a specific tray of cookies. You pulled off a peanut butter cookie and walked back over to the werewolf, holding it out towards him. He sat up a little straighter, but it wasn’t the usual ecstatic reaction he had to his favorite kind of cookie.
“Here,” you pushed it in his hand. “You can have it.”
To your relief, he didn’t hesitate to eat half of it in one bite. His eyes crinkled into familiar little crescents as he happily munched on the cookie, quickly polishing off the other half.
Minseok approaching your station from the front typically let you know that was mid afternoon, about time for your shift to end as well. His schedule was variable, it depended on what kind of administrative duties needed to be done, and whether or not he needed to help out in the front or back at all that day.
The sphinx stopped across the counter from you as you put away clean utensils that you didn’t need anymore. “Hey, it’s too slow today. I already sent Donghyuck home and I’m having Jeno close the front. Go home once you’re done cleaning up.”
He was walking towards the back door when you suddenly thought of something. “Oh, Minseok!”
“Yeah?” Your boss stopped, his hand almost on the handle.
“I actually wanted to ask if I could stay after my shift and test a new recipe?”
“Sure. What kind?”
“New flavor of brownie?”
“Hm. If all goes well, it can be a limited flavor. Keep Jeno to taste test.”
You grinned, already planning on doing that yourself. After all, this recipe really was for him. “Will do, thank you!”
“Call if you need anything. Bye, Y/N.”
“Bye, Minseok!” You sent him off for the day with an enthusiastic wave.
Jeno came into the back just a few minutes later, tossing a washcloth into the laundry basket. “You need any help back here?”
“Yes, actually.” You couldn’t hide your beaming smile.
“Oh no,” he groaned. “What is that smile? We’re getting off early and you’re happy about giving me more work?”
“You can go if you want...” you sighed teasingly. “If you really don’t want to help me taste test the peanut butter brownies I’m about to make.”
He gasped, face immediately lighting up, “You’re making what?”
“Yep, the test kitchen is open this afternoon. But, since you want to leave work early, I guess I won’t have my trusty taste tester this time.” You let out another comically deep sigh, shutting away mixing bowls into cabinets. “And to think... all that peanut butter just going to waste... I guess I could give some to Sungchan. I know he says it’s not a werewolf thing to like peanut butter but—”
“Y/N!” Jeno cut in with a whine, grabbing your arm. “I’m staying! I’m your taste tester!”
You couldn’t help but giggle, turning to your friend and patting his cheek, “I know, Jeno. Now come on, help me put this stuff away and we can get started.”
Despite having worked at a bakery for a few years, Jeno didn’t know much about baking. He knew what the different kinds of baked goods that the store offered were, but he didn’t do any of the cooking. Mostly his role in your little test kitchens was to just taste test. And when your arm got tired of mixing sometimes, you’d pass the batter and spoon off to him. Sure, you had electric mixers for that kind of stuff, but for small batches like this, you preferred to just do the mixing by hand.
This time, you were making brownies swirled with peanut butter and with mini peanut butter cups in them. It was something Jeno had been begging for nearly as long as you’d been working at Half Moon. It had been sort of always in the back of your mind to get around to eventually, but Jeno’s disturbing lack of appetite today had finally spurred you into action.
As you folded the mini peanut butter cups into the brownie batter, you saw a hand snake under your arm towards the batter.
“Hey,” you gently pushed Jeno’s hand away from the mixing bowl. “That’s unsanitary, Jeno.”
“We’re not serving it to customers!”
You shook your head, pouring the batter into the square pan. Turning back to Jeno, you handed him the big mixing spoon, still coated in batter.
“Here.”
As he happily went to work licking the batter off the spoon, you put the finishing peanut butter swirls and mini peanut butter cups on top, popped the pan into the preheated oven, then set the timer.
“Alright, now we wait,” you declared, grabbing your hand towel off your shoulder and wiping a stray dollop of batter off the back of your hand.
“And by wait, you mean…”
You latched onto his forearm, the hand of which was holding a now batter-free mixing spoon, and hauled him over to the sink, which was filled with the dirty dishes from preparing the brownie batter. “I mean active waiting, of course. Come on, Jeno, do you want to wash or dry? I’ll let you pick, I’m feeling extra nice today.”
He sighed, nudging you over towards the other side of the sink, “I’ll wash today.”
Your eyebrows shot up as he turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge, squirting a small amount of dish soap on it. Normally if either of you were given your pick, you’d take drying, hands down. No chance of touching gross wet food, no soapy smelling hands, and no pruned fingertips. Drying was clearly the superior task.
But you were never one to look a gift horse in the mouth—or a gift werewolf, you supposed—so you grabbed a clean dish towel.
By the time you two were done with the dishes, the brownies were only about halfway done. So you did Jeno’s preferred method of waiting: passive waiting. Grabbing two chairs from the dining area, you sat down right in front of the oven, the interior light on, and watched them bake.
“And you’re sure liking peanut butter isn’t a werewolf thing?” You double-checked.
“I’m sure.” He confirmed with a chuckle.
“Okay, because you like really like it. Don’t get me wrong, Jeno, it’s endearing. But it’s practically supernatural how much you like it.”
“Well, it kind of is.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know that werewolves have heightened senses, right? Compared to most other creatures. Other than vampires, I guess…”
“Well, yeah.”
“Sight, hearing, smell, taste…”
“Touch?” You asked curiously. That one was always left out of whatever werewolf lore you’d hear about.
“Oh, sure. I like really fuzzy blankets.”
You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the image of Jeno bundled up in a bunch of fuzzy throw blankets.
Jeno continued on with his justification of his love for peanut butter. “So, when I find something that I like the taste of, I really like it. At least, compared to a human, you know.”
“Because you taste it a lot more strongly than humans do.”
“Yeah!” He beamed at you.
“Got it. That makes sense. And you just happen to like peanut butter, like some humans will like peanut butter-flavored stuff more than others.”
“That’s part of why I like working here so much, too. Everything you make smells so good.”
“Aw, thanks, Jeno. I like working here too. You’re one of the easiest coworkers I think I’ve ever had. Aside from the incessant begging for peanut-butter flavored menu items.” You lightly flicked his ear, your tone teasing.
“I’m sorry!” He rushed to apologize.
“I’m kidding. Like I said, it’s endearing.” You waved off his apology. There were a few beats of silence, the two of you continuing to stare at the brownies. Something he said had stuck in your brain, though. “You said that was only part of why you like working here. What’s the other part?”
“Uhm…” Jeno’s eyes widened, flicking between you and the brownies nervously. “You know, Mr. Minseok is a really great boss! He’s super easy about asking for time off, and making the schedule around our classes and finals and stuff!”
“Yeah, Minseok’s great…” You agreed, eyeing your friend suspiciously. He was absolutely lying. Not about your boss being a good boss, Minseok really was great, but that definitely wasn’t what he meant when he said that just then.
But then the oven timer went off, and you decided not to press the matter any further. If Jeno wanted to be weird, that was his prerogative, you weren’t going to demand that he tell you something that he was clearly uncomfortable about.
Grabbing the dish with your oven mitts, you now transitioned into your least favorite part of doing test recipes with Jeno…
“Is it ready?”
“No, Jeno, it needs to cool down.”
“Oh.”
And just a minute later:
“Is it ready?”
“No, Jeno, still too hot.”
“Right.”
Two minutes later:
“Are you sure I can’t have just one bite?”
“It’s still steaming.”
“Okay…”
Another minute later:
“Y/N…”
“Jeno, I know you think I’m doing this because I’m a big meanie, but I promise it’s because I care about you and don’t want you to singe off all your tastebuds.”
“Fine.”
And finally, once he'd given up:
“Jeno!”
“They’re ready?!”
“Yes,” you confirmed, grabbing a knife and triangle server.
Serving Jeno up a corner piece, his favorite, onto a half-moon plate, you then dropped your own piece onto a full moon plate. After tapping your brownies together in a little cheers, you two took your first bites.
The brownie was still warm from the oven, fudgy, and gooey thanks to the swirls of peanut butter in there. You got a couple mini peanut butter cups in that bite that melted over your tongue. Altogether, you had to hand it to Jeno, this was a fantastic idea. It was missing a little something, though. Quickly grabbing a shaker from the counter, you dropped a couple flakes of coarse sea salt on top of just your brownie, then took another bite. Oh yeah, that was perfect.
Jeno had already polished off his brownie, and you could see him trying not to be obvious as he eyed the pan of seven others.
“That was really good, Y/N!” He praised you, eyes turning up into delightful crescents. “Like, I think the best thing you’ve ever made!”
“You say that with everything I make,” you pointed out, taking another bite.
“But this one’s seriously the best!”
“Because there’s peanut butter in it?”
“Well…”
“You can have another one, by the way.”
The sentence was barely out of your mouth before he had dished up another brownie. It didn’t even make it to his plate, instead going straight from pan to his mouth. You chuckled. Why did you even bother with dishes with him, honestly?
But really, it warmed your heart to see somebody enjoying your baking so honestly, so thoroughly, and unabashedly. You’d take a hundred customers like Jeno over any pompous pastry chef any day. And you were glad to see that his appetite was back.
He’d finished his second, and you guessed was about to go for his third when you stopped him.
“Jeno, hold on.” You grabbed his upper arm, looking around for a napkin or paper towel.
“What?” He asked, eyes on your hand that was on his arm, curious.
“You’ve got chocolate like, all over your face, dude.”
You’d finally secured a napkin, and stretched back to dampen it in the persistent drip from the sink faucet. Scooting your stool closer to Jeno, you leaned forward to get a better angle at your task. The werewolf jerked away, but you just clicked your tongue in your mouth and grabbed his chin to gently pull him back towards you.
“C’mere, Jeno. It’s just a little water,” you teased him, wiping away the brownie, chocolate, and peanut butter that were on his cheeks. “Don’t tell me the big bad wolf is scared of the equivalent of a baby wipe?”
“‘M not,” he mumbled as you dragged the wet napkin over the corner of his mouth.
You got a smear that was on the tip of his nose next, “How’d you get it up here anyway?”
He made a ‘I don’t know’ noise in the back of his throat, but stayed perfectly still as you moved back to scrutinize your work. Jeno’s face and ears were definitely much pinker, and he was looking straight up at the ceiling.
“Oh, missed a spot,” you sighed, bringing the napkin up one more time to the curve of his bottom lip. “There, Jeno, all good to go.”
It was then that your heart seemed to have caught up with the rest of the team, as you froze where you were. Jeno’s eyes were locked on yours, his warm breath hitting your face as he took shallow, quick breaths. Your blood roared in your ears. You were so close to him, your hand was still holding his chin, if you just—
Before you could actualize that thought, Jeno let out a yelp, tucking his chin to his chest and curling in on himself in pain.
“Jeno?” You stood up, panic overtaking you as he let out something closer to a grunt this time. “Jeno, are you okay?”
He keeled forward into you, and you easily caught him. Easing him off the stool and onto the ground with you, you sat down, cradling him to your chest as he still wasn’t responding.
“Jeno, what’s wrong?” You asked, carding a hand through his dark hair soothingly.
“It hurts, Y/N,” he whimpered.
Your heart broke at how distressed he sounded. “What hurts, Jeno?”
“Everything!” The werewolf wailed.
“Oh my god, okay. Shh, shh,” you tried to calm him back down, still stroking his head. Pressing the back of your hand to his forehead, you swore he felt warmer than normal. Werewolves naturally had higher body temperatures than humans, but he felt hot. “How bad? Do you need to go to the doctor? Should I call someone? What do you need from me, Jeno?”
“Don’t go!”
“I didn’t say I was going anywhere. But you need somebody else.”
“No I don’t—”
“Jeno—” Your sentence stopped in its tracks as your hand that had been running through his hair suddenly bumped into something. Turning your eyes back down from the ceiling to the werewolf in your arms, your eyes widened comically when you saw two fuzzy white ears emerging from the mop of dark hair atop his head. Trailing further down, you saw a fluffy white tail, too.
“I don’t need anybody else,” Jeno insisted.
“Jeno.” You stated quietly, desperately trying to maintain your composure. “I need you to listen to me. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going anywhere. But we need to call somebody else to look at you.”
“Why?”
“You have ears and a tail.”
Jeno huffed. “I’m a werewolf, remember?”
“Are they always white and fluffy?”
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, “No...”
“I’m going to call Renjun.” You decided, shifting so you could ease your phone out of your back pocket.
“Y/N!” Jeno buried his head in your lap.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jeno,” you reassured him, resting your free hand on his back. “I was just grabbing my phone.”
Dialing up the contact, you prayed that your friend wouldn’t be deep in a study session. Renjun had an annoying habit of being a good student and turning his ringer off when he studied. Finally, after way too many rings for your liking, he picked up.
“Hello?” Renjun picked up tersely. It sounded like there were other voices in the background.
“Hey, Renjun!” You put as much pep into your tone as you could muster. “Sorry, are you busy?”
“I’m at Chenle and Jisung’s, but we’re just watching movies.” He referenced two of their other friends, a fairy and dragon, respectively. You really just knew them from when they'd come into the bakery to (lovingly) pester Jeno. “What’s going on? I thought you and Jeno were working.”
“That’s why I’m calling.” While you felt bad interrupting their hangout, you had something a little more pressing. “I think Jeno’s sick.”
Your friend’s eye roll was practically audible over the phone. “Just because I’m a Magical Creature Studies major doesn’t mean I’m a werewolf doctor, Y/N. I study them in a sociocultural context—”
“He’s grown ears and a tail, Renjun. Not wolf ones.”
“I’m coming over right now.” And he hung up.
Jeno was still letting out little groans and whimpers every few minutes when you heard a knock at the rear employee entrance.
“It’s open!” You yelled out. It felt like you wouldn’t be very successful if you tried to get up right now.
Renjun threw open the door, eyes scanning the kitchen for a moment before they finally found you. The two of you were in the same position as before: you propped up against the cabinets, Jeno curled up nearly fetal, head in your lap as he clutched at whatever hurt. His stomach, his chest, his head. Everything.
He rushed over, face turning pained when he saw the state that Jeno was in. Squatting down beside the two of you, the human looked over your friend, but was careful not to touch him.
“He says that everything hurts, and I swear he’s running a fever.” You reported to Renjun. “In addition to, well, the obvious.”
Jeno’s feet scrambled for purchase against the concrete floor as he tried to curl up into an even tighter ball, holding his stomach.
“I know, Jeno, I know,” you murmured, stroking his back. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to help you get better. Just hold on.”
Renjun leaned towards his head, squinting at where the ears were growing out of his hair.
“You know... I’m surprised the other two didn’t come with you.” You commented, just to say something, to fill the silence.
Fae were naturally mischievous folk, there was no way Chenle would miss an opportunity to see Jeno with literal dog ears and a tail. And usually, wherever Chenle was, Jisung wasn’t far behind. From your understanding, dragons tended to be solitary creatures; however, according to Jeno, Jisung had taken a liking to the fairy some time ago and vice versa, and the two were inseparable ever since.
“I told them Jeno was throwing up. Didn’t mention the ears and tail.” The human scooted to inspect the tail next. “Now, I’m guessing he didn’t show up to his shift like this.”
“No, he was fine. We were testing a new recipe and then it just happened out of nowhere.”
Renjun sighed. “I think he’s just pupsick.”
“What?”
“Pupsick. Usually only little werewolves get it, hence the name. It’d be kind of like if you or I got chickenpox. Like, we can get it, but usually only kids do. Pupsickness isn’t contagious to humans, by the way, so don’t worry about that.”
“Then how’d he get it?”
“Pups usually get it from each other, outbreaks will sort of crop up in daycares and classrooms. But the fact that Jeno’s got it… I don’t know for sure. Werewolf immune systems are practically superhuman once they’re adults, even to their own diseases. This one’s past my expertise. I’d call Sungchan, see if he knows anything.”
“Alright, I will. Thanks, Renjun.”
Renjun stood back up, then looked around the bakery. The half-eaten brownies were still on the countertop, not to mention you had your close-up checklist to do. “You should get him home, Y/N. Here, give me your keys, I’ll clean up here and lock up. I’ll put them under your mat when I’m done.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d much rather be on bakery clean up duty than pupsick Jeno duty,” he nodded towards the werewolf. “Trust me, I don’t envy you.”
You gave him a half-hearted smile, then looked down at Jeno. He’d been quiet all throughout your conversation with Renjun, and you prodded him gently. “Jeno?”
“Yeah?” He mumbled.
“Can you stand up? I’m going to take you home.”
He let out a whine again, but this time higher pitched, sounding more like a petulant child than like he was actually in pain. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Come on, you’ll be so much more comfy at home in bed with all those fuzzy blankets, right?”
“Fine.” He dragged out the vowels, but scooted off of you to let you stand up.
“Alright, come on, Jeno,” you helped him get to his feet. “Now you’re going to have to walk there mostly of your own power. You’re a bit too solid for me to carry on my own.”
You patted his firm chest for emphasis. “If the stairs are going to be too much, let me know and I’ll make a couple calls. I think Sungchan and Jisung combined could probably get you up there. Maybe get Shotaro for good measure. I know sirens aren’t super strong like werewolves and dragons but—”
“No, I can do it,” he mumbled, looping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t need… don’t need them.”
After untying both yours and Jeno’s aprons and handing them to Renjun, you took your bakery keys off your keyring to give those over as well, then wrapped one arm around Jeno’s waist and started guiding him over to the back door.
“Y/N,” Renjun caught your attention before you could push it open. “Don’t worry too much. It’s like a bad cold. He’ll just be really pitiful for a few days.”
“Right,” you nodded, mustering up a small smile. You were sure you looked frazzled still. “Thanks again, Renjun. We owe you one.”
“Free muffin and we’ll call it even.” He waved goodbye to you two. “Feel better, Jeno!”
It was thankfully a very short walk to Jeno’s apartment, he lived just around the corner. Once you got him inside, normally you would’ve been able to pass him off to his dryad roommate. But Jaemin was studying abroad for a month, as evidenced by the very droopy-looking plants around the living room.
“Here, let’s get you to bed, Jeno,” you murmured. “Which one’s yours?”
He pointed. “Left.”
Jeno’s room was surprisingly tidy. Though you weren’t sure if you were expecting it to be messy because he was a college boy, a werewolf, or based off his distaste of cleaning up at work. But regardless, you pulled back his covers and ushered him into bed.
“I’ll get you some ice water, you still feel really warm.” You told him, pressing your hand back to his forehead. “Do you want something to eat?”
“No. Don’t want you to go…” He grabbed your hand with both of his as you went to take it off his forehead, nuzzling his cheek against it this time instead.
Okay, his brain was definitely melting in there.
“I’ll be right back here, Jeno. You definitely need some water.” You shook him off as gently as possible. “I’m just going to your kitchen.”
Now free, you rushed to his kitchen, throwing open cabinets until you found one with cups, grabbing the first one your eyes landed on. You scooped ice in, then filled it up from the tap. Initially, you had planned on calling Sungchan while you did this, but you didn’t think Jeno would be that patient.
You speed-walked back down the hallway to his bedroom, finding the werewolf exactly where you left him, curled up in bed, staring at the doorway. You offered him as bright of a smile as you could, “Hey, Jeno! I’m back! Here’s your water.”
He lit up, moving to get up in bed, and you surged forward in concern.
“Woah, hey, are you good to do that, dude?” You asked, hands flitting over him nervously.
“‘M fine, Y/N, I’m fine. Just…” He yawned, covering his mouth. One of his ears twitched. “Really tired.”
“Well, drink this water first, please.” You lifted the glass to his mouth. His refusal of food was still worrying you, though. Werewolves had much higher metabolisms than humans, and the appetites to match. “Are you sure you don’t want something else? You ate hardly anything on break. Other than those brownies, the only thing you’ve had today was whatever you had at breakfast. It’s almost two…”
After gulping down half the glass, Jeno wiped his mouth and shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
You sighed, patting his cheek and pressing the glass back to his lips. “Okay… Just let me know if you change your mind. I’ll make something or order something. Whatever you want.”
He took a couple more sips before pushing your hand away. “You’re- You’re not going to leave?”
His voice was hopeful, eyes round and pleading—literal puppy dog eyes—as he asked that. You shook your head.
“No, Jeno, I’m going to stay right here with you. I want to stay with you.” You set the cup on his nightstand, gently nudging him forward and further in to make room for you to scoot onto the bed behind him.
Jeno immediately flopped around onto his front, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying his nose into your stomach. You giggled, squirming around for a moment.
“Ah! Jeno, that tickled.”
He mumbled something that sounded like an apology into your lap, squeezing his eyes shut. Your hands dropped to his head, careful to avoid the two white ears there as you ran your fingers through his hair again.
Soon, his breathing evened out, and you stilled your hand. He was asleep.
It was dark when you woke up. You didn’t remember falling asleep in the first place, the last thing you remembered was scrolling on your phone and thinking to yourself how good a nap looked and sounded right now. Jeno was still wrapped around you, peacefully asleep, and you were slumped in the multitude of pillows at the head of the bed. There was a little crick in your lower back, and you had the urge to stand up and crack it. Your stomach growled, and good god you needed to pee.
You tried to sit back up all the way, but Jeno was remarkably heavy in his passed-out state, and you barely moved an inch. Flopping back down, you instead tried shaking him awake.
“Jeno. Jeno, hey,” you said softly. Your lips twitched in amusement when you saw one of his white dog ears perk up towards the sound of your voice. The rest of him didn’t move, though. You shook him with a little more gusto. “Jeno... come on.”
The other ear was at attention now, and you could feel a grumble start in his chest. You switched to lightly squeezing his human ears, sides, and whatever parts of his arms you could reach.
“Jeno! Up! Wake up!” You pleaded with each gentle pinch, finally feeling victorious when he recoiled after you got his nose.
He jerked an arm back to cover his face in his elbow as he sneezed three times in a row.
“Bless you!” You snickered, quickly pulling yourself into a cross-legged sitting position now that you had an opportunity.
“Ack! Y/N, what was that for?” Jeno complained, voice thick with sleep, sitting up as well.
“I needed you to move so I can go use the bathroom,” you snorted, scooting towards the edge of the bed.
Before your feet could touch the floor, a pair of arms had wrapped around your shoulders, and a nose was nuzzling into your neck. “Y/N...”
“Jeno...” You mimicked his tone in an attempt to cover up how the sudden contact had made your back stiffen. You almost tilted your head to the side on instinct to give him more space, but kept your spine pin-straight.
You half-heartedly tried to push at him. “Dude, seriously, I need to pee. And aren’t you hungry?”
“Not hungry.”
“For real?” You frowned, contorting awkwardly to look at his face as you tested for his temperature again. “You’re still burning up. Do you have a thermometer around here? What’s a werewolf’s temperature even supposed to be?”
“We don’t have a thermometer. ‘M fine.”
“I’ll believe that when you’re back to eating six meals a day, Lee Jeno.” You scoffed. “Now I am going to the bathroom, then I’m coming right back. Okay?”
“No!” He clung onto you tighter, and you swore you saw his eyes getting moist as his lower lip trembled.
“Jeno, I’ll be right back, okay? I pinky promise.” You held one of your pinky fingers out to him. He begrudgingly linked one of his with it before letting go of you.
“Thank you.”
You slipped down the hall quickly. After relieving your screaming bladder and washing your hands, you pulled out your phone, seeing that you had a couple texts. They were both from Renjun from several hours ago.
[renjun: locked up the bakery, keys under your mat. how’s jeno doing?]
Then, a couple hours later.
[renjun: hey, just double checking that you found your keys and that jeno got home okay.]
[you: sorry for not replying, he’s been a bit of a handful. i haven’t made it home yet to grab my keys, still at jeno’s. thanks for locking up and dropping my keys off tho!]
You briefly thought of calling Sungchan, but you were worried about Jeno. Poking your head out of the bathroom and back down the hall, you listened for any signs of life. You could hear him tossing and turning restlessly in bed. So he at least hadn’t fallen back asleep.
Your stomach growled again, taking center stage now that the more pressing need had been dealt with.
“Hey, Jeno,” you said loudly as you entered the room, already pulling up a food delivery app on your phone.
Jeno sat up at attention, and with the sheets falling away from him, you could see the fluffy white tail behind him wagging vigorously as he gave you possibly the brightest smile he’d had since this whole thing started. “Y/N!”
“Jeno!” You repeated his name with a bewildered chuckle. “Am I covered in peanut butter or something? What’s got you in such a good mood all of a sudden?”
“Can I not just be happy to see you?” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His tail kept wagging, though.
“No, you can. I was just curious.” You leaned against the doorway, scrolling through the restaurant options. “I think I’m going to order delivery. Which means you’ll have to let me go get it when it gets here. Do you think you can do that?”
He yawned and stretched. “No promises.”
“Alright.” You turned your phone off. “Let me go raid your pantry really quick. You do have food, right?”
“Yeah...” Jeno laid back down, his sudden burst of excitement seeming to be wearing off expeditiously.
Giving him a thumbs up, you took off down the hall again. Jaemin and Jeno’s pantry was fairly human-friendly. Jaemin left three weeks ago, so there weren’t many of his organic trail mixes and granola bars left. And of course, plenty of Jeno’s werewolf protein bars—to supplement when he just couldn’t get enough protein for what his diet naturally called for. But mostly there were snacks that you’d find in your own human apartment, which you were grateful for; you’ve had some unfortunate moments with friends of yours whose appetites didn’t line up as closely with humans. You still shuddered at the thought of the plate stacked with slimy kelp that you’d been offered by Sungchan’s siren roommate, Shotaro. Sungchan and you ordered pizza that night.
Grabbing a few things for yourself, a couple water bottles, you then headed back towards his room. You’d also snagged one of Jeno’s protein bars, maybe you could convince him to get something close to a meal in him.
“I’m back, I’m back,” you announced as you hurried in, dropping the snacks on the nightstand.
Jeno rolled over just enough for you to sit back in your same place against the headboard. As soon as you were settled in, he scooched to put his head in your lap.
“How are you feeling? Still hurting?” You asked, cracking open the first bottle, then the other.
“Yeah…” He rubbed at his eyes.
“Tired?” You stroked his bangs away from his face.
“Mhm.”
“What about your temperature? Still got that fever?” You leaned down to press your lips to his forehead before you realized what you were doing.
You froze halfway back up, eyes locked on Jeno’s. Letting his bangs fall through your fingers and back down onto his face, you forced out a chuckle.
“Sorry, uh, my mom always did that to check my temperature when I was sick as a little kid. Just, kind of happened,” you stammered out as you kept fixing his hair to cover his forehead back up. “Do- Do you feel hot, Jeno? Or cold? Like any sort of chills or hot flashes or anything?”
His whole face was pink, and you couldn’t remember if it was already like that from the fever or not. The werewolf blinked up at you a couple more times before answering your question.
“I’m cold.” He pulled one of the fuzzy blankets up to his chin then as if for emphasis.
“Okay. Alright, well if you’re tired, hurting, and cold, I think you should get back to sleep.” You smiled down at him, patting his chest over the blanket. “Can you just drink a little more water for me?”
After getting a couple sips in him, Jeno rolled over and was out like a light. Oh that looked nice. You would probably take care of your hungry stomach and then join him in dreamland, honestly. Today had been… a lot.
The thought of spending the night in Jeno’s bed made your stomach twist and turn, and you briefly considered creeping out to the couch. But if something happened to Jeno with this pupsickness and you weren’t there, you’d hate yourself forever. No, you needed to stay right by his side, as much for yourself as for him. And so, you grabbed some trail mix and prepared to settle in for a long night.
You were still munching on some of Jaemin’s trail mix when suddenly, your phone rang. You panicked, scrambling to grab it so that it didn’t wake Jeno up. The werewolf in your lap didn’t even stir as the loud ringer kept going, though.
Keeping an eye on him, you answered the call in a whisper, “Hello?”
“Y/N? Sorry, is this a bad time? I had a question about the lecture from yesterday.” It was Sungchan on the other end, your only other werewolf friend, and project partner in your Magical Botany I class.
“Hey, Sungchan. Uh, it’s sort of a bad time but also the perfect time.” You kept your voice low and quiet, holding the phone close to your mouth.
“Oh. And what does that mean?”
“You go first.”
“Can you send me the notes?”
“That’s all you needed to ask me?” You snorted. “The notes from yesterday?”
“Can you send me all of the notes? From the whole semester?” His voice was pleading, sounding like he was braced for ridicule.
“Are you kidding me?”
“The last full moon was rough, okay?”
“Used your Bot I notebook as a chew toy, huh?”
“Will you send me them?” He groaned.
“Yeah, yeah, it might be a little while though.”
“That’s fine! You said this was a bad time, right? Sort of?”
“Right.” You gently dabbed at Jeno’s sweaty forehead. “So I have a werewolf question…”
Sungchan paused, sighed, then said, “Because you’re you, and I know are therefore not about to ask me anything weird, I will entertain this. Go ahead.”
“Do you know why an adult werewolf might get pupsick?”
“Is Jeno okay?”
Sungchan didn’t know Jeno as well as you did— the two werewolves had met a couple times in passing, when your classmate would buy something from the bakery, or the two of you would bump into Jeno while studying at the library. But Sungchan mostly knew of him from you. You happily talked about your job, your sphinx boss, and werewolf coworker to your friends, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he was able to guess what this was about.
“Immediately blew my cover, huh?”
“It seemed like an awfully specific question.”
“Yes, Jeno’s pupsick. At least, according to Renjun.” You tested his temperature again, with your hand this time, on his cheek. He was still burning up, feeling very much like a heated, weighted blanket. “He’s exhausted, he’s moody, he doesn’t want to eat, he’s got a fever I think—”
“Wait, are you with him now?”
“Yeah, his roommate’s studying abroad for a month and I felt bad leaving him alone.”
“Those are his only symptoms? Sounds like he’s just got a cold.” Sungchan scoffed. “Why would Renjun say it’s pupsickness? Just because he’s a werewolf? Honestly—”
“Oh and he’s got ears and a tail.”
The other end of the call was silent for far too long. “Channie?”
“Ah. Yeah. He’s pupsick.” He confirmed.
“So… do you know why he’s got it? Renjun said that adult werewolves usually don’t get pupsick.”
“They don’t. Although I’m not surprised Jeno is.”
“What? Why? Is he okay? Does he have like… a werewolf autoimmune disease or something? Do you guys have those?”
“Jeno’s immune system is fine, Y/N,” your friend reassured you.
You relaxed again. “Oh, good.”
“It’s a combination of things that determines whether a werewolf gets pupsick or not. Yes, it’s our immune system, but one of the biggest symptoms of pupsickness is what you’re looking at: the partial shift.”
“The ears and tail.”
“Yeah. Pups can’t control their shifting yet because they’re more volatile emotionally and magically.” Sungchan walked you through it. “And like any other kids, they’re germ factories. So they get pupsick a lot more than adults do.”
“Then why’d Jeno get it? It’s not like he’s an education major or anything, he hasn’t been around any pups.”
“Adults usually get it when there’s something in their life that’s made them emotionally and magically volatile again.”
“Volatile?” You echoed, looking down at the peacefully napping wolf. He really just looked like an oversized puppy.
“You said he’s moody?”
“Mhm. Kind of… down? I don’t know, he’s not as bubbly as he normally is, you know? I could barely get him to let me get up to use the bathroom earlier, he looked like he was about to cry. And then when I came back, you’d think I brought him a jar of peanut butter or something he was so happy.”
“That’s what I mean, not like he’s going to snap and break a vase or something. And his shifting is obviously not in control either.”
“Well he’s going to get better, right?” You asked hopefully. “Renjun said it should just be a few days.”
“It is for pups.”
Your stomach dropped. “That sounds like there’s going to be a but coming…”
“But for adults, they got sick because something in their life was out of balance.” Sungchan reiterated.
“So he’s going to be like this unless we get his life back in balance? I’ve got to what, sign him up for werewolf yoga or something?”
“Or wait until the next full moon. A full shift should do the trick to reset him.”
“Oh. When’s that?”
“Three weeks.”
“Three weeks?!” You couldn’t help the loud panic in your voice. One of Jeno’s ears flicked, and you held your breath as he shifted slightly, but ultimately stayed asleep.
Sungchan was still talking, “And there’s no promise that he won’t just catch it again if he’s still at unrest.”
“God, who knew you werewolves were so sensitive? You’re like orchids, you need a very specific soil pH or you’re going to die!” You hissed into the phone.
“We’re a very hardy species, actually. You know, if the Black Plague were to come back, humans would—”
“Yeah, I’m sure humans would all die out, and werewolves would inherit the Earth or whatever Revelations says.” You cut him off, all too used to his lectures on the differences between humans and werewolves. With a sigh, you determined that you’d gotten all the useful information you could from him. “Well, thanks, Sungchan.”
“Of course, Y/N.”
“Wait…”
“What?”
“Why did you say that you’re not surprised that Jeno’s pupsick then? Do you know what’s making him sick?”
“Y/N…” Your friend sighed. “You are so smart, and yet…”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve only met Jeno a couple times, but the guy so clearly has a huge crush on you. A better name for what’s wrong with him would be that he’s lovesick, honestly.”
Your jaw dropped as your eyes were glued to Jeno’s peacefully sleeping features. “S-Seriously?”
While you’d had a creeping suspicion—you weren’t that stupid, no matter what Sungchan was implying—you were also a little worried that it was all in your head.
“Every time I see you two together, he’s all heart eyes for you, Y/N. I don’t know how you’re missing it.” Sungchan chuckled.
“Must be your superior werewolf eyesight,” you replied sarcastically.
“Must be.” He repeated humorously.
“So like… what should I do?”
“He’s your wolf, Y/N. Do what you will.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You sputtered out, jolting up in your seat.
Sungchan’s cackling laughter came through your speakers as you felt Jeno shift and stir in your lap. He lifted his head up slightly as he mumbled out a very sleepy, “Y/N?”
“Oh my god, you woke Jeno up!” You snapped at the other werewolf at the phone. “I’ve got to go!”
“I woke him up? Oh really—”
You cut Sungchan’s incredulous words off by hanging up, then tossing your phone aside on the bed. Jeno had settled back down a little bit, and you scratched between his ears.
“Go back to sleep, Jeno,” you murmured quietly. “Back to sleep… Sweet dreams, baby.”
As he relaxed again, you started humming a familiar tune, a lullaby that your mom used to sing to you when you would wake her up in the middle of the night because you weren’t feeling well. You didn’t let up even after Jeno’s breathing had evened out again, keeping it going as you slowly shifted around until you were no longer sitting up, laying down now. Jeno’s head still laying on your midsection, a comforting pressure. The rest of him was under all his fuzzy blankets, and you made sure he was securely under them all, gave him one last head pat, then let your eyes flutter shut, drifting off still humming that lullaby to yourself.
It was bright out when you woke up. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to roll over to bury your face into your pillow. Except there was a weight attached to your back, and a low whine right next to your ear. Your eyes flew open, and you quickly remembered that you were not in your own bed.
Which meant that— Yep, that was Jeno koala-hugging you from behind. He had a pout on his face even his sleep, which turned into a peaceful smile as soon as you’d given up on moving, relaxing back into him.
His two white dog ears were splayed out to the sides, and while they were very cute, they also worried you. Your conversation with Sungchan yesterday came back to mind. God, what the hell were you supposed to do about that?
“Hey, Jeno? You awake?” You asked softly, quiet enough that if he weren’t, he hopefully wouldn’t wake up.
“Mm… mhm,” he nodded his head against your back. “Yeah… ‘m up.”
You turned over onto your back in Jeno’s arms, then feeling for his temperature on what part of his forehead that you could get to. “How are you feeling?”
“Still sleepy…” He muttered, the words muffled against your collarbone from where he had readjusted to nestle his face into the crook of your neck.
“Sorry if I woke you up,” you hummed, stroking his head. “You can go back to sleep.”
“Who were… who were you talking to?”
“When— Oh, last night. Sungchan. I was trying to figure out how to make you better.”
He made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement, and for a brief moment you thought he might’ve fallen asleep again, until he looked up at you with the most heart-stopping, big, round eyes.
“Uhm, he said that when you shift on the full moon, that’ll probably kind of reset everything.”
“But the next full moon’s in…” he let out a yawn, punctuated by a sniffle. “Three weeks. I don’t know if I can take feeling like this for another three weeks.”
You rubbed a hand up and down his back soothingly, “I know, Jeno, I’m sorry. He did say something else.”
The werewolf’s animal ears perked up. “Something else?”
“Well, he was telling me about why adult werewolves get pupsick when its usually only pups who get it.”
“But I haven’t done anything to throw off my spiritual balance,” he whined. “I think… I mean, I haven’t pissed off any witches that I can think of, my shift on the last full moon went great, and everyone in my pack back home is okay.”
“Well, Sungchan said that it could be something personal, too. Not exactly related to werewolf stuff. Any kind of serious rift in your life, you know.” You tried to paraphrase your friend’s explanation as best you could without the heavy implications that he had. “Can you think of anything like that?”
“No...” he dragged out the vowel. “Just—”
Jeno suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence, going still in your arms.
“Just? Just what?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“Clearly it’s not nothing,” you said pointedly, giving one of his dog ears a gentle tap. He fidgeted a little, but didn’t move away from your touch.
He shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“It’s going to ruin everything.” Jeno just sounded utterly defeated now, refusing to look up at you. “I’m going to ruin everything again.”
You were ashamed to say that you were gobsmacked in that moment. You took a deep breath, desperately trying to throw together any kind of acceptable response.
“What are you talking about, Jeno?” You needed more information.
“I always break stuff, and I get too excited, and I don’t stop, and I’m too much and that’s not even on the full moon!” Jeno rambled. “I always have to replace my stuff because I tear it or break it or chew it or crush it and I don’t even realize and—”
“Jeno, Jeno, Jeno, woah, woah,” you shushed him firmly but kindly, hearing in his voice that he was getting himself too worked up. “It’s not like you’re Godzilla out here leveling cities or anything, okay? You’re not ruining anything, and you’re not too much or whatever stupid stuff you’ve been told before. Don’t be offended, but I honestly can’t imagine you as some big bad wolf blowing houses down and eating little piggies.”
The dog ears on his head perked up, and he sniffled again. “Really?”
“Really,” you confirmed, scratching behind one of the animal ears. Under the sheets, you could see that the dog tail had started wagging back and forth. “I mean, you’ve been curled up in my arms like an overgrown puppy for over twelve hours now.”
You had expected him to have some kind of objection to you calling him an overgrown puppy, but instead he just seemed to melt even more into your hold, his eyes fluttering shut as a lopsided, content smile took over his features. Seeing him so relaxed almost made you rethink your want to press the issue.
“Was that it? Do you think that’s what was wrong to make you pupsick?”
Jeno let out a heaving sigh, and his eyes opened again as the smile fell from his face. “No. But fixing my pupsickness is just going to ruin something else. Something really important.”
“You can’t stay like this forever, Jeno.”
“What? You don’t like the ears?” He joked with a dry chuckle.
“They’re cute, but not so much if they’re a symptom of you being so sick.” You habitually checked for his temperature on his forehead again (hot, as expected), then wrapped both your arms around his shoulders tightly. “Now, humans don’t exactly have pupsickness, but when we get really stressed out in work or school, it puts too much stress on our bodies and our immune systems, and we get sick more easily too. It makes us take a break and take care of ourselves. Whatever’s wrong, it’s not sustainable for you and clearly your body knows that too.”
“Yeah… I know.”
“So? What is it? Can I help?”
The werewolf shifted in your hold, and you loosened your arms to let him sit up from you completely. You followed his lead curiously, the two of you now sitting cross-legged on his bed facing each other, knee to knee. He brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, other pieces sticking up in random directions around the two fluffy white dog ears. Now that the covers had fallen off both your bodies, the tail rested beside him, no longer wagging happily as he gave you a forlorn look.
“Y/N… please remember that in order to cure the pupsickness, I just need to get this off my chest, okay? My health is not dependent on your response at all, it’s all about my internal state being stagnant for too long. So… don’t feel obligated to respond any one way for my sake.”
Your heart picked up speed in your chest, and there was no doubt that he could hear it. But still, you put on an encouraging smile for him. “Okay. Go ahead, Jeno.”
He kept his gaze down on his hands, seemingly messing with a seam on one of his blankets. And after one more deep inhale, he finally admitted, “I really like you, Y/N. Not coworkers, not friends. And I’m really sorry that I just—”
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
“What?”
“Do you think I really would’ve done all this for like… just anybody?” You confessed weakly. “I like you too.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah, Jeno, I do.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his constant disbelief in what you were saying. “Why do you just think I’m constantly lying to you? Like— Oof!”
Your sentence was cut short because in that moment, you were caught in a tackle-hug and nearly smothered under the weight of a very excited werewolf. Laughter poured out of you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you just let the happiness in your chest get bigger and bigger with each passing second.
“You really are just a big puppy, huh?” You teased, reaching up to scratch behind the dog ears on his head. Except, they weren’t where you were expecting them. You couldn’t find them by feeling around in his hair, and opened your eyes to look for them. The only thing on his head was his mop of dark hair, fluffed up by your fingers, but otherwise, entirely typical. Peering around his shoulders, you couldn’t spot a tail either.
“Jeno!” You gently pushed on his chest to encourage him to get off of you for a moment.
“Mm?”
“The ears and tail are gone! You’re not partially shifted anymore!” You pushed a little harder, and he seemed to finally get the idea, rolling over and flopping onto his back instead. You shot up to a kneeling position beside him, looking down at him excitedly. “How are you feeling?”
He seemed to think about this for a moment, and you couldn’t help but put the back of your hand to his forehead once more, relief washing over you when it was just a little warm compared to your skin, but pretty much the usual difference between humans and werewolves this time.
“Feels like your fever’s broken,” you announced giddily.
“I still feel a little yucky, like I’m getting over a cold,” he informed you, grabbing your hand that had been feeling for his temperature and resting your linked hands over his middle.
“Aw, poor pup,” you cooed, squeezing his hand, and not missing the way his cheeks flushed, but he didn’t reject the nickname entirely. “Well, we do have today off anyway. I can stay, if you want?”
“Please?”
“On one condition.”
“Anything!”
You leaned over to grab something off the nightstand, the werewolf protein bar you had snagged for him yesterday. It hadn’t been touched at all the night before, and you now held it out to him.
“You eat.”
He nodded. “I think I can make that work.”
Jeno was still feeling off by the end of the day, so you called Minseok and explained most of the situation to him—that Jeno was getting over pupsickness and you were helping take care of him. Your boss was understanding, and easily gave you two the next day off as well, sending the werewolf well wishes to get better soon.
Slowly but surely, Jeno’s appetite was coming back, but your mind wouldn’t truly be at ease until he was back to eating six meals a day, no matter how many times he reassured you that he felt fine.
Jeno wasn’t sleeping as much, but now he’d finally taken one of his rare naps on the couch—he’d fallen asleep trying to show you one of his favorite movies, which you’d paused as soon as you’d realized he was asleep, so that you could finish it together later. You were snugly in his arms, head resting on his chest and now contemplating attempting a nap of your own.
Then the front door opened. You would have sat up to look at who it was, if your position allowed for that at all, and if you didn’t know well enough already who that definitely was.
“Jeno?” A voice carried through the apartment from the front door easily. “Thanks for picking me up from the airport, asshole! I had to get a ride from His Highness, so now I owe him one! Which, by the way, you’re so going to help me repay when he comes to collect—Oh!”
The dryad had finally made it to the living room and stopped in his tracks as soon as he spotted the two of you. He was in a hoodie and sweatpants, a duffel bag over his shoulder and towing a suitcase behind him. Clearly fresh off the plane back from his month of study abroad.
You and Jaemin just stared at each other for a moment. Jeno hadn’t stirred.
“Uh, hey,” you greeted him awkwardly, cringing internally at the crack in your voice. “I’m uh… I…”
“Y/N, right?” Jaemin grinned down at you. While you had seen each other in passing when he'd come into the bakery on occasion, and of course knew of each other through the still slumbering werewolf with you, you'd never really been properly introduced.
“Yeah, I’m Y/N,” you smiled back at him, not-so-subtly smacking at Jeno’s arms to try to wake him up. “It’s nice to meet you, Jaemin.”
“It’s so good to finally meet you, Y/N.” Jaemin gushed. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good. Uhm, how was your trip?”
“It was great! Saw lots of sights. Still seeing some more now that I’m home, too.”
The werewolf under you had finally come to at that point, and groggily looked between you and Jaemin, eyes snapping open with alarm when he realized what was going on. “Jaemin! What the hell?”
“Could ask you the same thing, Jeno.” The dryad threw a hand over his chest. “I was abandoned at the airport and had to call Chenle for help—a fairy! And then I finally make it home, thinking the whole time that surely you must be injured; in the hospital; dead! to have gone back on your promise. Only to come home and find you napping with the Y/N. I mean, I was only gone for a month, what the hell happened?”
Jeno single-handedly chucked a pillow at Jaemin’s head, which the dryad easily dodged.
“I was sick, you little shit,” the werewolf groaned, rubbing his eyes with one hand, and keeping his other arm firmly wrapped around you. “I got pupsick like two days ago, I’m still recovering. I’m sorry about forgetting about your flight.”
“And what did I tell you before I left?” Jaemin put his hands on his hips, staring his roommate down pointedly. “I hate to say I told you so but—”
“No you don’t.”
“—but I told you that you were going to get yourself pupsick if you didn’t do something about Y/N.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have another pillow to throw,” Jeno covered his face with his hand.
“And you just brushed me off like everyone else does.” Jaemin threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Dryads aren’t just a bunch of hippies, you know. Nature and your connection to it is very important, it’s nothing to mess around with. I hope you know better now, Lee Jeno.”
A low grumble started in his chest at the scolding he was getting from his friend, and you bit down on your lip to stifle your giggles at the scene that had been unfolding around you.
“Yeah, Jaemin, I know that you’re always right and I don’t know anything ever and should always listen to you. Happy?” Jeno retorted sarcastically.
“Quite.” Jaemin smiled back with the same amount of sass, but you could feel that the tension was dissolving in the air. He grabbed his bags again. “You're also helping me repay the favor I now owe His Highness, by the way."
Jeno groaned again, but didn't argue.
"Anyway, I’m jetlagged and exhausted. I’ll leave you two alone. Lovely seeing you as always, Y/N. So sorry you had to deal with a pupsick Jeno for this idiot to finally confess to you. Goodnight!”
“Hey!” Jeno cried out indignantly.
“Goodnight, Jaemin,” you replied humorously, taking a look at the clock. It was only 11:00 a.m.
And with that, it was just you and Jeno again.
“Ugh, sorry about him.” The werewolf readjusted his hold on you, pecking your forehead.
“Don’t worry,” you chuckled. “I had a pretty good idea of what he’s like.”
“I know, but he didn’t have to make a scene like that.”
“I think he was entitled. You left him for dead at the airport, after all.”
“Oh my god.”
“He had to get a ride from Chenle.”
Jeno scrunched his nose, presumably remembering that he and Jaemin now jointly owe the fairy a favor. “Yeah, I probably should’ve at least arranged for one of the other guys to pick him up.”
“Mhm…” You picked up the remote again. “So, ready to finish the movie, pup?”
Review Compilation for SLACKING OFF. by goldenhourology
For our September NSFW Monthly Read, our Members had a wonderful time reading SLACKING OFF. by @goldenhourology and writing their reviews!
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Updated: 01/10/2025.
- of all the stars in the sky you see me (fav out of all of these)
- winner x winner
- handle me soft
- come as you are (& ill love you like that)
all written by miah_kat @sawamura-daichis-thighs !!!
my absolute fav killugon fics, all short one shots and so cuteee
this author also has some cute leopika fics too!
Featured Writer: Miah_Kat
9 Works.
of all the stars in the sky, you see me
( G | 3,058 | 1/1 )
“Does it bother you?” Gon asks, tilting his head to pin Killua with a wide-eyed look. His tone is genuinely concerned as he assures, “I can stop if you don’t like it.”
No, is his immediate reaction and, to his continued mortification, his mouth blurts it out without his permission. He shoves his hands in his pockets, ducking his chin to glare at the dirt as he mutters, “I mean, I don’t…mind it.” He glances back up at his friend through his fringe to find a delighted smile aimed his way, wide and bright and captivating. His heart leaps in his chest at the sight.
it's by your side i make my home
( G | 3,505 | 1/1 )
Gon giggles against his neck, smile pressed sweetly against Killua’s pounding pulse, and he can’t help but think he’d like to have more evenings like these. Nights spent on the couch together, talking about everything and nothing, Gon’s icy toes tucked under his thighs despite the fire just a few feet away. Evenings dancing around each other in the kitchen as dinner cooks, or waking up on the weekends to breakfast, or hastily packing lunches for one another when they’re running late for their next hunt. He wants all of them, mornings and afternoons and nights together, for as long as Gon will have him to share them.
revenge is best served sweet
( G | 1,747 | 1/1 )
Alluka knows full well that her brother would never call Gon ‘svet moyego serdtsa’ to his face if the boy had even an inkling of what the words meant.
It’s both amusing and frustrating. They’re both so obviously head-over-heels for each another and yet they continue to dance around the root of it all, always toeing the line that separates friends from lovers (a line that’s already sufficiently blurred), hearts still bruised tender by the past. She hopes that this fresh start will allow them to finally take that final step towards being happy together.
& i said to the star, "consume me"
( G | 1,320 | 1/1 )
There’s glitter on his face, a sparkle that plays hide-and-seek between highlight of the moon and shadows of the night. It enhances his beauty, the swell of his cheeks and the cupid bow of his lips; his eyelashes and hair shimmer with it, like a fresh snow or—
Gon can’t help but reach out, cupping Killua’s cheek so that he meets his gaze. His blue eyes are shadowed navy in the dark, wide with confusion.
“You’re like a star,” Gon breathes, awestruck. Even with just the moon’s pale glow, he can see the pastel pink that spreads over Killua’s face, a familiar warmth against his palm. Before Killua can protest, he murmurs, “Can I make a wish?”
Killua’s lips tilt up at that, what must seem like a corny, childish request. He indulges him with an affirming hum.
Gon takes a steadying breath, inhales slowly and holds it in his lungs for a moment before wishing, “Stay with me forever.”
like storms in summer
( T | 3,000 | 1/1 )
A sharp elbow in his gut distracts him, then Killua’s reprimanding tone as he scolds, “Watch the movie, perv.”
“But Killua,” Gon whines, drawing out the last vowels of his boyfriend’s name petulantly, “I missed you and the movie is boring anyway.”
“Hey!” Killua complains, turning in his hold enough to meet his gaze with a mock glare. “Take that back.”
“No,” Gon replies stubbornly, tightening his arms around Killua’s waist. He can see the familiar glint of mischief in those blue eyes, so he knows Killua isn’t actually upset about the insult to his favorite film. He’s just about to continue where he left off when Killua moves away, deliberately avoiding his advances if his smirk is any indication.
Gon whines his name again, trying in vain to kiss his boyfriend. Killua masterfully eludes him despite never leaving the circle of Gon’s arms.
“Take it back,” he demands again, poking Gon in the side, just below his ribs. He jumps reflexively, narrowing his eyes at the competitive tone. “Or I’ll make you.”
Heat flares in his stomach at those words, anticipation coursing through his veins as he goads back, “So make me.”
let me love those bruises out of you
( T | 2,296 | 1/1 )
“I’m not afraid of Killua,” Gon assures earnestly, putting every ounce of love and trust into his tone that he can. Killua still doesn’t budge, stubbornly holding on to his misplaced sense of protection. He’s so kind, Gon thinks a little sadly, that even in the midst of his own turmoil he thinks first of keeping Gon safe. So Gon waits patiently. He’s willing to sit here all night until Killua gives him his hand; he refuses to allow Illumi’s lies to take root any deeper than they already have.
His best friend knows him well enough to realize he’s fighting a losing battle because eventually he gives in with a heavy sigh, offering his hands reluctantly. Taking them in his own, Gon wastes no time in bringing one to his lips to place a kiss to his palm. Killua jolts at the touch as if shocked by his own electricity.
“G-Gon, don’t.” He shifts uneasily, even tries to tug his hands back again as he eyes Gon with an uncertain, wary gaze. His next words are so soft that they’re barely audible when he mumbles, “They’re dirty.”
winner x winner
( T | 2,124 | 1/1 )
What are you doing? he wants to ask, but the words lodge themselves in his throat; he can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips. If you touch me like this, I’ll—
“Killua looks good with his hair like this,” Gon murmurs absently, almost like he’s thinking aloud, trailing his hand higher still until he’s carding his fingers through the longer curls. His eyes dart over, lower, and his hand follows until he’s fingering one of the piercings in Killua’s ear. His touch is soft against the sensitive skin; it’s all Killua can do not to shiver.
“And these, too,” Gon adds. Is it Killua’s imagination or was his tone kind of breathy? But that wouldn’t make sense—Gon doesn’t—
He tries to respond, licks his lips in an attempt to despite not knowing what to say, but then Gon’s gaze snaps down to lock on his mouth.
handle me soft
( G | 3,029 | 1/1 )
“Because Killua deserves to be spoiled,” Gon answers matter-of-factly, eyes lifting to meet his again and staying. Killua’s certain his face is way too red to blame on the lukewarm bathwater, so he turns away from the earnest look to face the wall again. Gon giggles knowingly behind him.
“I don’t,” he mumbles, wishing his hair wasn’t slicked back with suds so he could hide behind his fringe. He feels especially vulnerable right now, even with Gon at his back.
“You do.” Gon insists, tone brooking no argument as he starts to rinse the soap away. He reaches forward to tilt Killua’s head for him again. “Killua helps me all the time. The least I can do is wash your hair now and then.”
come as you are (& i'll love you like that)
( G | 2,523 | 1/1 )
It makes his heart ache, knowing Killua doesn’t truly know tenderness. That he hasn’t experienced contact that’s soft on his skin just because he deserves to be touched without having bruises left in the wake of it.
When he first realized it, Gon wanted to reach out and gather his friend close, wanted to offer an open palm and urge, Here, see? You’re safe. I’ll take care of you. But he noticed the rigid set of his best friend’s shoulders, the flex of his sharp fingers and the aversion of his eyes, and knew he would have to earn that right.
very demure & mindful of you to recommend these. i had no idea the Miah_Kat one-shot fluff kingdom existed, and my existence = infinitely better after reading every last one of these. their use of languages is so unique & heartwarming.
thank you so much for for rec ! (& for the library's first ever "featured writer" post. you guys can check out the new page dedicated to featured writers by clicking here.)
SUMMARY: Diluc carries you on his back when you struggle to keep up with the group.
NOTE: Reader is not the Traveller.
Aether glances over to you who's struggling to keep up with the rest of the group. He sends you a concerned look, pausing for a second to let you catch up with him. "Do you need to take a break?"
You shake your head from side to side. "I'm a bit tired," you answer, but you don't take Aether up on his offer. Instead, you turn your attention to Diluc. "Diluc, I'm sorry. Can you carry me?"
Diluc sighs as though exasperated, but his expression is far from being annoyed. He doesn't even think twice before crouching down and offering his back to you. "Get on," he tells you.
You beam, and you appreciatively climb on over to his back. Diluc wraps his arms around the back of your knees just as you move to wrap your arms around his neck for support, and he effortlessly lifts you up into the air. You rest yourself comfortably against Diluc's back, his hair tickling your cheeks as you let out a small giggle. Diluc resumes walking, leaving Aether and Paimon to follow after him.
"Wow, I never expected to see Master Diluc offer a piggy back ride!" Paimon comments with her usual cheerful voice.
Aether laughs in response. "Well, it is them, after all. Master Diluc's favouritism towards them is well-known in Mondstadt, apparently."
"..." Diluc provides no commentary of his own. It's not like he can deny it since it's the truth, anyways. He hears you give a quiet laugh behind him, but you don't respond to Aether's comment either, simply nuzzling yourself against Diluc further. It's fine like this.
my heart's been borrowed, yours has been blue | ekko x southeast-asian!reader
inspired by "lover" by taylor swift
pairing: ekko x southeast asian!reader
summary: the three times he wanted to kiss you, the one time he dreamt of it, and the one time he did.
word count: 3244
tags: southeast-asian reader (i had them being indonesian in mind), tooth-rotting fluff, lots of yearning and pining, reader & ekko being oblivious, cursing, gender neutral reader
author's note: i've been thinking about doing more reader inserts with a southeast-asian!reader in mind. i try to be more vague with descriptions but if anyone wants to read reader inserts w specific features, let me know! i fell in love w ekko, took this chance & wrote this! this is set after ep3, during ep4 and so on. (i will edit this later but blegh have fun w this unedited mess!)
additional notes: nastar (or known as pineapple tart) is a commonly known southeast-asian pineapple covered and filled bite sized cookies. usually i'd receive this during ramadhan or whenever my aunt makes them and send it over to us. one of my fav cookies of all time!
available on ao3!
i.
The earliest recollection of any how Ekko's feelings were formed was whenever you were close to him. Close enough for him to feel your warm breath sending shivers down his skin, striking heat to his head. All over the place.
His heart would pound in these moments.
But he had touched you before, you to him. Many times before. You've held hands. You've both held each other close. Even at night, sometimes you'd rest on his arm or him on your chest.
It's just... there's something about the distance you both had that really got to him. When your face would only be inches away from his.
"You still have paint on your nose." You commented, the tip of your nose nearly touching his.
He stutters, "Yeah? Uh, probably forgot to wipe that pa- What are you doing?"
Your one hand tilt his chin up, the other reaching down to grab the cloth he'd used.
"What? Wiping it off for you, silly. Now stop moving." You laugh at his stunned expression. You pressed the cloth over the paint gently almost, but his head's ringing.
His throat suddenly dry, heart catastrophically trying to break through its cage, and he could physically feel his hands squirming.
Ekko couldn't help but look closely at your face. The depth of your eyes always have this sparkling quality in them that you seem to reserve for him. But maybe that's wishful thinking.
He does feel a little lightheaded.
Maybe that's been messing with his head.
"There," You say to him almost like a whisper. You pause, leaning closer. At this point, Ekko would be surprised if his heart hadn't taken a leap out of his body through his throat. He tries to lean closer, but..
…you hold back.
"That's all done. Should've cleaned it better next time." You make an aimless comment, now shifting your gaze away. Not even a glance at him.
"Right."
-
ii.
The second time's when their very first raid as the Firelights was successful.
Cheers and shouts filled the air that night at the base with everyone carrying Ekko over their shoulders, chanting their leader's name.
The biggest smile he could feel it in his aching cheeks. The fight may not be over yet, but it was a big step to fight against the darkness that has overshadowed the undercity. His home. Their home.
Every member reaches out to him, offering congratulatory pats. Everyone, but you. His eyes scour through the crowd, trying to find your figure but to not avail.
Ekko slips through the crowd, slipping away to his space. Surprised with a sense of relief, he smells something familiar. You in the kitchen area.
"...What the hell? This doesn't look right."
He sneaks in, observing your distraught figure from a distance. You're facing a large, pile of dough. Some bite-sized, some unusually bulky. Your hands covered in both dough and flour, but with the visible scowl you don't seem to notice some of it had land itself on your chin.
"They look good." He starts to speak. You scoff, playfully.
"Could've been better. I can feel my mom's shaking in her grave at me doing this all wrong."
"What did you get wrong?"
You heh'd. "...Dunno. I kinda... eyeballed everything."
Ekko simply stares at you. One brow raised.
"Okay, I know, I know what you're thinking. Last time eyeballed during cooking, it didn't go so well."
"No, it did not go very well, at all, no..."
"Right. Exactly."
"...'Cause you nearly burnt the whole kitchen down."
You throw your head back and groan. "You're never gonna let it die down, huh?"
"Nope." He popped. "But hey this one looks decent. I mean, what are they anyway?"
You go silent for a moment, while grabbing a brush and dipping it into a bowl of golden-like liquid. A sweet smell radiating from it.
"Cookies my mom used to make. It's called Nastar. They're like," Your hand gestures into a curling ball. "I guess, pineapple tart thing-y. Because the 'nas' is from nanas which means pineapple. And 'tar' from tart and so-"
"Nastar. Yeah, I figured." Ekko smiles at the way you fumble through your words at the end.
"Sure you did. Smartass." You comment, earning a nudge from him. You faked a grunting pain. To that Ekko laughs.
"God." Your eyes go wide. "I forgot to ask. How'd the mission go? You're back in one piece, so I'm assuming...?"
"It was..." He sigh exasperated until a grin appears. "...one hell of a successful raid."
"Yeah?! Holy shit!" You're beaming. Like the sun, almost. But before Ekko could even comprehend anything, you charge towards him with a tight hug. Instinctively, he hugs you back.
Arms wrapped neatly around your waist and the two of you laughing through the euphoric feeling. The grip tightens. All he wants to do, in that moment, is to simply drown himself in your warmth. It just... feels right.
When you pull back, he still has his grip on your waist. So the distance between the two of you are only few inches away. His heart's about to sorta explore right then and there.
Your eyes shift from his eyes and down to his-
"Hey! Ekko! Are you there?!"
In a snap, the two of you part ways. Oh my god. Ekko coughs, feeling the slight trembling on the tip of his fingers. Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck.
"I think, uh, you should celebrate with the others. I'll finish up here."
His mouth opens, but nothing comes out of it. Ekko only stares at the back of your head. You avoiding his gaze. All while the children came in to surround him, tugging at his shirt.
Then he left.
You only turn as he left the room. You wondered to yourself with the heat simmering under your cheeks. Since when did it get so hot in here?
-
iii.
On days with no missions, Ekko, you along with the other adults would spend them doing chores around the base. Sometimes the older children would the two of you when you'd need some extra hands.
When he was younger, Ekko hated days like this. He dreaded having to do house chores at Benzo's workshop, let alone at his own home when his parents wouldn't come home for days. However with how hectic things can be now, it's the only few quiet times he can enjoy.
"If you're done dozing off, maybe you can help me take these down?"
Ekko grins at your mildly annoyed expression, before making his way and grabbing one of the basket. The two of you are handling laundry for the day. He rarely keeps up with the schedule around the base for these things, but that's why you're there.
"I'm no fighter," You said to him once when the two of you first built the base. "But I want to help and making this place as close to home as possible for them is what I'm willing to do."
And to your credit, you did. Even more so than that.
The place would've crumbled if it weren't for you holding everyone together. Everyone has their share of responsibilities, even some of the younger children are willing to lend a helping hand from time to time.
After all that you both went through, you were determined on making this place your very new home. To welcome those who've lost theirs into this safe haven. Even with the tree growing into its majestic size seems like a miracle in itself, but it
Ekko goes to grab one of the dangling sheets, tugging it down then-
"BAH!"
"AH!"
He falls to the ground, the sheet over his head. Your roaring laughter is all he could hear. You lift the sheet, going under it to meet a flustered Ekko.
"Scared you"
Ekko scoffs. Swiftly, he tugs at your arm and pulling you down to him. Your body slams down onto his with a grunt.
"Fuck," He cusses through grunts. "Okay, I didn't think that one through."
"You're an idiot." You laugh between short breaths. Now, you're fully rested on his chest. Your body hover over his. The distance lessen between the two of you.
"You came out of nowhere!"
"And your solution is to bring us both down to the ground? Not very strategic of you, leader."
"Oh, ha, ha." Ekko rolls his eyes.
You chuckle.
He's more conscious than ever of how close you both were. His gaze traces down to your chin, up to the tip of your nose and your eyes digging dip into his wandering ones. His hand with its own thought touches your cheek with his thumb rubbing over your cheek.
"You okay?" He asks, almost too gently. You nod at that, also stunned but your fingers wrap itself around his wrist. Your touch is gentle on his. As gentle as it was, it's enough to send shivers on his skin.
He sits up, leaning closer and closer to you. He could your breath hitches at the back of your throat at his gesture. Long forgotten that you're both still hidden under the sheet.
"Can I..." His words trails off. Eyelids fluttering when the tip of his nose nearly touch yours.
You lips move, "Ekko..."
He pauses.
"Don't."
It was only one word from you, but enough to rupture something in him.
"Oh," He stumbles. "Sorry, I-"
"It's okay. It doesn't matter." You stand up almost in an instant, leaving him under the sheet still. "I'll... have the sheet cleaned. Sorry about that."
You spoke almost too quickly for him to comprehend. Your tone flat. The reality sinks into Ekko's mind after a moment of silence.
You're an idiot.
-
iv.
Ekko dreamt of it that night.
His sight's blurred from that explosive aftermath. Even then, he couldn't do it. He wondered if you would've been disappointed.
He couldn't do it. He'd seen her eyes on Jinx's face. Powder. Gone, but traces of her remain. Fuck. He just couldn't do it.
The mask would've made it all easier.
Shifting himself against the cold wall of the ruins beneath the bridge, he hisses at the ache around his ankle.
He wonders what are you up to right now? Maybe still fussing over those cookies.
He thought more and more about you.
The way you'd barge into his room without a single word.
Or how it's some unspoken thing between the two of you that bringing a bowl of fruit is somehow the best way to start an apology.
Or even the way you both unconsciously hoarding all sorts of cardboard and plastic you gathered. We might need it, you'd both say to those who question.
He laughs a little.
Just small things.
He realize, he didn't even get to taste them. The cookies. Nastar, he could hear you fumbling through the words. Like pineapple, tart, and whatnot.
"One more reason to make it." He mutters to himself. As slowly drift to sleep from exhaustion, he begins to dream how it'd be to be back home.
With everyone they've lost, but this time you enter the frame. You. The Firelight. All part of this new family. He needs to make through this.
His mind wanders again. Now you're all he could see. Your eyes, your cheeks, your nose, lips. It's a bit of a blur, but he remembers how warm it feels to touch you. He wonders again, would your lips feel just as warm?
And who knows, maybe you'd taste like pineapples.
He needs to try those cookies.
-
v.
"You're gonna kill me with a heart attack one day."
"And have you leave me with those brats? Hell no. Not gonna happen."
Despite his latest injury, Ekko doesn't show any sign of backing down. He'd push himself beyond his own limit, if it meant it'd bring them closer to their goal: freeing the undercity from the shadows.
But you always tell him, and again: what's the point of ever reaching that goal if he wouldn't make it to see it thrive one day?
"The purpose is bigger than me. Than any of us."
It's deep into the night, when most would be asleep. Most but you and Ekko. There'd be times when you'd slip into his room and spend hours to no end talking about everything, or sneak to the top of the tree, dangling over the wooden platform. The night time lends itself for your thoughts to let loose, in ways that day time can't seem to do.
Perhaps because of how quiet it is at the base, and the wave of peace it brings you to feel the breeze and sight of the firelights surrounding you.
"I hate it when you say that." You admit to him, lying down on the cold wooden surface. "You're right. But... fuck, I hate it."
"Sorry." He tells you meekly, but the truth holds.
The truth that this will continue on beyond your lives, perhaps you wouldn't even make it when that day comes but that's the risk of this life.
"You know, every mission you go on to, I just dread it everyday." The confession spills through you. "Just... the thought of one day you'd be one of the ones we've lost. I hate it. I hated it whenever you guys return and each time, less of us returns."
Ekko only listens.
"Just reminds me how little time we have here."
The two of you had gone through everything when you lost everything to the spread of Shimmer across the undercity. You lost your parents, loved ones. He'd lost the few people he calls his family.
To think that from the pain you've gathered, you were able to create a sanctuary for others who've went through the same: a place to call home.
"I mean, shit, I got regrets and I haven't done half of the things I want with you. And can you imagine you just not coming back? I'd have to revise my bucket list. That sucks."
Ekko laughs at the bitterness of the joke.
"Yeah? Thought you don't live with regrets." Ekko turns to you, lying on the side while focusing his eyes on your side feature.
"Nah, that's not true. I was edgy when I said that. I'm older now, with more existential dread than ever. Regret is bound to happen." You look at him.
"Like..." You hesitate a little, "Like when I regret not telling you how I feel."
He nearly chokes on his own saliva at that. His eyes would pop out if it goes any wider. You sit up now, looking at him straight in the eyes.
"How you feel, like... as a friend?"
"No, I like you. Romantically."
Holy shit.
"Oh." He says to that.
"Yeah," You heave out a sigh. "Oh."
Despite the cold air, Ekko could feel a rising heat going through his head. A growing warmth under his cheeks and flustering, malfunctioning of his very much pounding heart. It almost feels like his ribcage could barely keep it together.
"AH! Fuck you, dude!" He screams out of the blue, curling himself into a ball.
"Wha- I literally just confessed to you! That's how you respond? Could've just rejected me or something."
"No, no, no no no, that's not it." He waves at you, shaking his head vigorously. "I mean, I've been having plans in my head on how to confess to you the right way. But you beat me to it! And out of the blue too! Like, you didn't even think it through?!"
"No? Why should I? I told you I've had too much regrets. I regretted not telling you about how I feel, so here you go. There. It's out there."
The blatant puzzling face you display surprises Ekko. You unabashedly confessing your feelings for him. All while he's been struggling to even form the words or find the right time to tell you.
Yet you bursts through those bricks he'd been carefully picking apart. Unpredictable wreckage. He finds himself jumbling through his mind for the right words to say, but nothing. Say something.
"Forget it, I'll..." You stand up, still not looking at him. "...I'll go to sleep."
Say something. A voice of his younger self always scream all those years ago. Say something, say something.
He calls for you. His hand hold onto your wrist.
"Don't. I just," He sighs, quivering slightly from his nerves. "Just let me say something."
Now, the two of you are facing each other. The firelights hovering around you. The night still quiet, but the warmth radiating from your bodies shielded you from the shivering air. His hands fit into yours like a perfect puzzle piece, but with a tinge of comfort and familiarity from all those years.
"You know, I thought you didn't..." His hand waves around. "You didn't like me. When we were... that day, laundry, I just thought..."
"...Fuck." You bury your face into your hands. "Fuck, I thought I was- Ekko, I'm so sorry. I panicked that day. I didn't know what was going to happen to us after that." You run your fingers through your hair, tugging on it lightly. "I'm such an idiot."
"Yeah, that you are."
You both laugh at that. He takes a deep breath before making a move. His arms extend towards you. You notice the way he moves closer and take the next step. Fully embracing him.
"We're both idiots." You mutter into his shoulder.
"For sure."
Your grip around him tighten. "We've been friends for so long. Just the thought anything could ever change that terrifies me."
He couldn't blame you. He, too, was afraid. It wasn't the first time he'd been terrified, he briefly recalled that night. The bridge. The explosion. Powder.
His heart nearly drops reminiscing it.
You both only had each other then, until now...
"Nothing's going to change how we are, you better believe that." He tries to reassure you. You pull away a little to rest your forehead on his. "I can't... can't ignore how I feel about you. I'm afraid that things will change, too, I can't tell you I'm not afraid. I am. Scared shitless."
The confession pours of him.
"But I can't say that I'm more afraid of the change than to ever tell you how much you mean to me."
Your eyes go wide at that. He'd said it with so much conviction. His hands cup your face. "Can I kiss you?"
Your face beams at the question, nodding, "Yes." The answer escapes through your lips like a breath.
"Living with no regrets, right?" He repeats your words back to you. You chuckle softly at that.
Ekko can't remember how many times he yearned for this moment, but it happens in an instance. Your lips on his. Warmer than ever before, with his heart uncontrollably thrashing within the cages of his ribcage. And it keeps going.
You both pulling each other closer and closer. Taking up each other's ways, the many ways you've both done so before. With barging into each other's rooms, brushing each other's hands, touching each other's face.
Maybe now, those things will be a little different. A little sweeter, just like...
"Pineapples."
"What?"
You both separate ways from the kiss. Breathless and flustered. You laugh at his sudden abrupt train of thought. "Are you still thinking about the cookies?"
"...I haven't tried them."
You leave another kiss, now on the corner of his lips.
warning: mentions of mild injury (bruises, slight blood)
wc: 1.04k
( note. ) — wrote this under an hour on a whim, lol. based from a prompt i saw on google images while i was looking for a good dialogue prompt HAHA anyways i hope you like this! kinda simple, but it made me really happy :) as always, this is dedicated to @neo-shitty since she's always the first one to read my unedited, beta version fics. mwah ♡
hyunjin rushes up the staircase leading to the rooftop the moment he heard from jisung what happened. he has never bolted out of the classroom so fast in his life—heart pounding in his chest as his legs refused to give in, adrenaline pumping his veins. upon reaching the door that separated the inside of the school and the rooftop, he sees it slightly opened. when he peeks his head in, a sense of relief washes over him the moment he sees you sitting on the bench, your back facing the direction to where he stood.
he quietly makes his way to you, but loud enough to let you know that someone was there. upon hearing footsteps approaching, you turn around, eyes widening slightly before looking away—obviously refusing to meet his gaze.
hyunjin purses his lips a bit, eyebrows furrowing as he now stands in front of you. you put your head down, making him crouch on his knees, looking straight at you.
“y/n,” he says. “look at me.”
“i'm fine.” you mumble, still refusing to look back at him as you kept your eyes shut as if you were some child scared of a possible scolding.
he sighs. “i said look at me.” despite the frustrated look on his face, the tone on his voice didn't hint at any annoyance. he was just there, a gentle hand placed on top of your knee while he tried to get a good look on your face.
after a few moments, you finally open your eyes and raise your head a bit. from where you sat, you could see hyunjin's evident frown as he noticed a small purple bruise slowly forming on the side of your mouth and a cut up bottom lip.
he stands up and moves forward, the proximity close enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. you almost wanted to look away again, but the intensity of his gaze made it impossible.
hyunjin gently holds your face with his two fingers, tilting your chin up to get a better look. you shy away from him, but he stills you in place. he feels his stomach churn as he stares at the evidence of the fight.
slowly, but delicately, he brushes away a streak of blood from the side of your mouth with his thumb, saying nothing as he continues to examine it.
after a brief pause, your heart skips a nervous beat as the boy looks at you dead in the eyes. his voice is quiet and tense, and despite knowing that he's not one to get pissed off easily, this time, his anger was barely restrained.
“who did this to you?”
“hyunjin,” you swallow tightly. “it doesn't matter now. it's fine.”
he shakes his head. his stubbornness made you sigh, before you wrap your hand around his wrist gently, in an attempt to pull him away.
“i told you, it's fine. it's just a small bruise,” you reassure. hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “and… a cut up lip too, but i swear, i'm okay. this won't kill me, you know.”
hyunjin finally drops his hand, before sitting down on the space beside you. he still keeps his gaze on you, making you slightly conscious as you shift on your seat and frown.
“did you start the fight?” he asks, making you pause a bit. your hesitation makes him chuckle slightly, shaking his head as he lets out a small laugh. “hah. i guess you're the one i should be scolding, then.”
you grumble, rolling your eyes. “they were pissing me off. they can't leave the poor sophomore kid alone.”
he smiles softly. he has always adored your kindness and need to protect—he just didn't like that you get hurt every time you do so. this wouldn't be the first time you got into a fight with the bullies around, but it was the first he's seen you bruised, so he was worried the moment he laid his eyes on you earlier. a few more reprimand slips and you'd be sent to 2 weeks suspension if you weren't careful.
“you shouldn't be going around beating everyone up, y'know,” hyunjin says. “i can't keep bailing you out of detention or minimizing your reprimand slips just because i'm from the council.”
“i don't ask you to, hyunjin.”
he shrugs, “you mean a lot to me, dummy. i'd do it even if you don't ask me to,” he grins, and it was the way blood immediately rushes to your face as your heart starts to flutter. he seemed to be oblivious of the blush on your cheeks though, before standing up and reaching out a hand to hold. “just keep it at a minimum. just don't go around punching everyone who ticks you off.”
this time, a laugh escapes your lips, but you are quick to shut your mouth when you feel the cut on your bottom lip sting, followed by the numbing of your jaw.
hyunjin shakes his head, the bright smile never leaving his face before ushering you to take his hand.
“lunch time will be over soon. let's get you cleaned up at the clinic first.”
you try to ignore the loud hammering in your chest as you reach out to him. your hand envelopes around his gently, as if two puzzle pieces finally finding each other.
hyunjin holds your hand as he leads you back inside the school, humming a soft tune underneath his breath that somehow makes your tense muscles relax. it was the first time you found yourself nervous around him after spending a couple of months with him and the rest of the group. between the two of you, he was more likely to jumble his words or be reluctant, with you being more loud. during conversations, you'd be the one rambling on, talking about things that either made you happy or annoyed.
his presence never made you falter or shy, but this encounter shifted everything from your perspective.
if this is what liking someone feels like, you wouldn't mind giving it a try.
