[Arashi] Crack!
Dec. 6th, 2014 07:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
neko_kirin3104Title: Crack!
Group/Pairing: Arashi/Yama Pair (Ohno/Sho)
Prompt: “I’m an alien”
Word Count: 7812
Rating: PG-13
Genre: au/humor+angst+fluff/mpregg
Summary: A purple-haired, purple-garbed, absolute head case of an alien comes to Sho Sakurai’s door one night with an egg and a desperate plea: “Will you sit on this for me?”
Disclaimer: All fiction. I swear. :3
Note: written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rainbowfilling.
Note II: Downloadable version by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rifnaoei ♥
Warning: mentioned character death
Side Pairings: (only hinted on) Jun/Sho, Jun/Kiko, Ohno/Becky, Aiba/Becky
Apparently Sho Sakurai is a warm and motherly type of man. The Sherry Mae maternal instinct meter is always accurate, the alien says.
Not that Sho would particularly trust a dubious-looking alien device, made out into the likeness of a teddy bear—a crazed and defective one, no doubt—wiggling its furry little limbs and crying out, “Mommy! Mommy!” in an impassioned, robotic voice, as soon as he held it in his arms.
Nor would he have even let this dizzyingly purplish weirdo, claiming to be the last remaining survivor of some planet called Allegra, come into his apartment and make these stupid, harebrained demands like, well... like he’s the last remaining survivor of some planet called Allegra!
Where the hell is Allegra supposed to be anyway?!
“Nowhere,” the alien says, looking so forlorn all of a sudden that Sho practically has to gurgle and gulp just so he doesn’t end up choking on his guilt.
He has actually also began feeling sympathetic, which much to his inner dread, just proves the Sherry Mae’s supposed accuracy. “Um... I’m sorry...”
“Naaah, it’s fine!” The alien waves a dismissive hand, his face instantly breaking into a smile. As though he hasn’t just been talking about how some unfortunate nuclear accident in the capital city of Manabu has blasted his home planet into an endless stream of insignificant space rocks now orbiting the Gumi-Gumi Belt in the planetary system of Kirin Mets—
Sho doesn’t even know why he bothers remembering the names. Or why this alien is still in his living room for that matter.
“If you... well, if you need a place to stay for the night, you can... um, you can take the couch... If you want to... That is.” Dammit! Why the hell would he say something like that?! And to a stranger, no less!
“You are very kind.” The alien bows his head briefly in a gesture of gratitude and respect. “But I only have one reason for coming here, and I mustn’t waste any more time.” He kneels before the steel case he has dragged into the room with him, presses a few buttons on the panel on its lid, releasing pressure from the box with a whizz and a shock of white smoke that makes Sho step away from it with a panicked shriek.
The lid splits open and a yellow light, dulled by the smog still streaming out, starts blinking from inside the box. The purple-haired alien then gingerly reaches in and rather dramatically pulls out a yellowed egg that is roughly the size of a densuke watermelon. Like the one Sho has just seen his colleague, Macchan, give his other colleague, Kiko the other day.
Sho doesn’t particularly fancy watermelons. Or Kiko for that matter.
But the egg does effectively catch his attention more than the fanfare that brought it to his life.
“You want me to cook it for you?” he asks, eyeing the egg with shameless craving. He’s just, after all, been rudely interrupted from his midnight snack.
The alien looks absolutely horrified, hugging the egg protectively to his chest. “God, no! I want you to sit on it!”
“Wait... You want me to WHAT?!|”
“Sit on it. Until it hatches.”
Now, Sho looks absolutely horrified. His mouth hanging open, the earthling lets out a pathetic snort that might’ve been laughter if he weren’t otherwise stunned out of his wits, his balls trembling in sympathetic support of his growing dread.
What did he ever do to deserve this anyway?!
Oh, right. He has just stupidly opened his door to a stranger! One that instantly made him believe that heavenly angels do exist and that they look just as purple and quirky—!
“I’m not doing that!” he says, once he regains his voice and a dash of his wits. “Are you CRAZY?!”
The purple weirdo shrugs, his whole frame wilting into a defeated slump until he’s almost slipping off the edge of the couch. “Then I guess, Allegra’s race is really gonna end with me... It’s hopeless... I should just shoot myself right now...”
Sho’s heart breaks unbidden at the sight of his guest practically wilting in misery, his reaction instantly sending the Sherry Mae’s limbs whirling frantically until the device is spurting out smoke from its ears.
It only takes a pout and a few imploring eye flutters from the alien to send the conflicted, yet naturally giving man screaming his throat hoarse in reluctant surrender.
The Sherry Mae’s head pops off like a champagne cork in mock celebration.
1st Hour —
Seven hours.
The purple weirdo who calls himself Satoshi says Sho only has to do this for approximately seven hours.
“That’s how much time it needed to stay warm before the ship’s incubator broke,” the alien explains, his face so straight and matter-of-fact that it would’ve been hard to laugh even if he were joking.
Like it isn’t bad enough that Sho has to sit on someone else’s egg to begin with! Or that there even has to be an egg!
“You mean you’re not hatched from eggs?”
“Um, no. We come out like this. Well not like like this, but uhm... smaller.” He could probably go on a long discussion about the almost mystical wonders of pregnancy (he did, after all, just read an entire book about it, so he can then explain it in simpler terms to Macchan, who can then use it to better care for Kiko), but he figures, why bother?
It’s not like the alien looks particularly interested, anyway. And it’s not really something Sho himself is particularly interested in touching on at the moment, either.
Better leave the angst out of this equation. Having the egg is complicated enough as it is.
A makeshift nest of blankets and linens has been bunched up in Sho’s laundry basket, snuggly wrapped around the Allegran’s last hope of preserving his race. Only a quarter spread of the symbolic egg’s face is left exposed so that Sho’s butt can get up close and personal with it.
“Hmm, that’s weird. How do you manage to come out in one piece then? I cannot imagine it.”
Sho shrugs and shifts a little to balance himself more comfortably in his nest. Fortunately, the basket is sturdy enough to hold both his weight and his dying hope of ever waking out of this nightmare.
“I can’t imagine a woman popping out an egg this size, either,” he says instead, keen on keeping the conversation going so he can, somehow, distract himself.
“Well, Allegran women are amazing, aren’t they?” Although Satoshi’s voice is filled with pride, it is also steeped in traces of grief.
He sits there, on the carpeted floor, right in front of Sho. His head bowed low to hide his silent tears; shoulders drooping in an absolute picture of mourning, of regret and longing; his breaths coming out in wistful sighs—
Taking a deep breath of his own, Sho ventures to ask, “Is this egg yours?”
“Yes.”
“And your wife?”
“She died in transit.”
“Oh... I’m sorry.” Sho swears he has never seen a man look so crushed, aside maybe from his own image in the mirror a few hours ago, after he’s run his trembling fingers over the cursive characters spelling out Macchan’s and Kiko’s names on the wedding invitation for the hundredth time, and giving up all hopes of it ever saying anything different. “What was her name?”
“Becky.”
Something about the way Satoshi has said that name makes Sho’s heart flutter and then break for both himself and the Allegran. “She must’ve been a very lovely woman, huh?”
The alien smiles fondly. “She was. She also made the Sherry Mae’s head pop, you know.”
A strangled whimper breaks out from Sho’s throat, because for some reason Satoshi’s eyes are suddenly telling him things that are otherworldly yet worryingly intimate. The egg did also just give a slight wiggle under his butt, and a numbing burst of hot flushes has just begun crawling under his skin as a result. “You do realize that I’m a man, right?”
Satoshi responds with a soft chuckle that might’ve been insulting if not for the playful sparkle in his eyes and the missed beat in Sho’s chest.
Sho has also just become keenly aware that he’s currently sitting on an egg, like an overgrown mother hen, which does nothing at all to warrant his argument.
“It’s moving around a lot,” he says instead, his ears quickly burning up at just how soft his voice has sounded. “Maybe it doesn’t really like me all that much.”
“It’s just trying to get acquainted to your warmth.”
Something about those casual words sounded really wrong, but Sho decides to keep his opinion to himself. Especially when he sees the lines on the alien’s face ease up into a relieved sigh. He doesn’t know why he even cares. He just does.
Then again, it can also just be the egg messing up with his mind. Or the fact that he still hasn’t gotten around to fixing himself his customary midnight snack.
Still flushed up, but with nowhere else to hide, Sho props an elbow on his knee, cups a hand to his face, and tries to affect as much show of disinterest as he can. “This feels a lot like being pregnant.” His voice cracks in his half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, and he ends up sounding more amused than annoyed.
And how the hell does he even know how being pregnant feels like anyway?!
The egg gives another wiggle. Sho responds with a startled gasp. Is he just imagining things or did he really just feel a slight tingling in his nipples? He instinctively frisks his chest to assure himself that he’s not growing boobies—
He’s not.
Of course, he’s not!
What the hell is he thinking, anyway?!
The egg moves again and the prickling in his nipples starts anew. Sho whines in utter fear as he wraps his arms around his chest tightly. “AM I GROWING BOBBIES?!”
“What?” The Allegran looks totally lost.
“This... This egg! Is it gonna change my body in any way?! Is it gonna give me BREASTS?!”
“I. Don’t. Think. So...?”
Sho likes nothing more than to jump at the alien and dig his claws into that baffled alien face. He knows it’s absurd to go ballistic over something that’s biologically impossible, but an alien did also just land on his doorstep and asked him to sit on an egg!
He feels like nothing short of the egg wiggling its way into his ass can surprise him any more than growing from a ‘bra-what-bra?’ to a cup-size ‘dammit!’.
Anything can happen in seven hours.
But then the wiggling stops and his nipples are okay again, still as flat as they should ever be.
“You’ll be fine, Sakurai-san,” the Allegran assures him, smiling more confidently now and reminding Sho all over again why he even let this weirdo into his house in the first place.
He decides the clawing will have to wait.
2nd Hour —
In retrospect, he really should’ve thought twice before opening his door to a stranger. Sho knows there’s no use moping about this now, but sitting on an egg for one full hour with nothing else to do and nothing much to look forward to than sitting on the very same egg for another six hours, can really do strange things to the sanest minds.
He’s actually just started feeling like his brain’s gradually turning into a glob of goop that’s gonna eventually start leaking out of his ears. For how else can he explain the nauseous headache that’s been ripping through his scalp for the last couple of minutes?
“I need to lie down,” he groans, cradling his head in his palms to try and keep it together. It’s already past two in the morning and he has yet to sleep a single wink. He’s pretty sure this has nothing to do with the drilling pain in his head, though. He’s used to not getting sleep, especially since he’s just been promoted as senior account manager at the Nakai & Nakama advertising company, after practically working himself into a near stroke for it for the past seven years.
There’s also the matter of his ex’s upcoming marriage to a woman who started out as a casual fling after Sho and Macchan broke up over the former’s highly ambitious work attitude, and the latter’s constant complaints of ‘We hardly even see each other anymore, and we’re working in the same place!’
So, yeah. He hasn’t been sleeping very well since he can remember. And this is the first time, in all of those seven years, that his head has started acting up like it’s about to go supernova—
He’s probably been losing it for quite a while. He just didn’t have the time to actually notice it until now.
Sitting on an egg, and being idle like he’s never idled since rushing out of the university with his diploma in one hand and the rest of his life in the other, has been forcing him to think too much about the things that shouldn’t matter. The very ones that can grate at his nerves and send him crashing and burning into the pits of his own stupid regrets—
“I seriously need to lie down!” he says again, in a louder, more indignant tone, so that it doesn’t get ignored like the last time.
He flinches and gasps when he feels a pair of gentle hands tugging at his shoulders. “Lean back,” Satoshi says, his voice soft and husky all at once. And Sho does not even think twice before giving in and sighing into his alien guest’s mercy.
He can’t tell just when exactly did the purple weirdo drag one of his black velvet dining chairs into the living room and place it behind him. But it hardly matters now. Not when he’s already comfortably nestled in the warm and rather intimate space between the alien’s legs, his head almost literally turning into putty in the firm and able fingers kneading all of his aches away.
“Do you feel better now?”
Sho can only hum in response. After all, it’s not every day that he gets pampered like this. Not since he chose to work for a higher salary grade than a healthy and fulfilling relationship with the one man who’s ever been able to tolerate him for everything.
“I’m glad...” The alien’s hands slide from the side of Sho’s head to his nape, maintaining a consistently firm pressure that flushes the tension from his head down to his shoulders, where the alien then proceeds to rub and knead it off with the skillful strokes of his hands, his calm and measured breathing quickly influencing Sho’s own breaths.
He moans. And groans. Completely giving up all stubborn sense of control and just savoring every relaxing sensation the alien’s hands are giving him.
How can he even think he’ll ever manage to live without this? Without such loving and tender hands working him up and back to everything about him that makes him human?
One who feels. Who loves. Who hurts.
One who can also break apart, if he just allows himself to.
Except that the moment his head begins to sag backwards, and his mouth slacks open to witlessly let out a stream of snores, each one progressively louder than the last, all thoughts in his much too overworked mind just completely fade away.
Apparently, breaking apart will have to wait, too.
3rd Hour —
He’s dreaming.
Except that he’s pretty sure it’s not his dream.
It’s just a mess of colors, splattered on his dream vision like a kaleidoscope that’s been warped out of all its artistic proportions.
He can hear voices, too. Rebounding echoes from a past that does not belong to him either.
He can make out three distinct names, is even gradually able to associate them with three distinct voices, laughing and talking about some fond memories all three of them can share like old friends who have been through a lot together—
If he hasn’t heard the names beforehand, Sho would’ve probably ended up thinking that this was a sort of twisted version of himself, Jun, and Kiko in some alternate universe where they can all still co-exist without one them—namely, him—rotting away inside.
But this isn’t them. And this isn’t his world.
This is Satoshi’s world. Or was...
And the woman with the musical giggles wasn’t Kiko, but Becky, Satoshi’s wife.
And the man with a seeming penchant of peppering his storytelling with lousy attempts at reproducing non-human sound effects couldn’t possibly be Jun—heaven forbid!—but was instead Masaki, who Sho can only assume was Satoshi’s best friend.
He can’t see their faces, though. But he can tell that they’re happy.
And he feels happy for them, too, for some reason, despite the fact that his head has been spinning throughout this entire dizzying foray into somebody else’s kaleidoscope memories...
Then a loud explosion suddenly jars his already jagged dream vision even more, the colors dispersing out into a blinding stretch of white. It doesn’t help that the warmth that’s been making him feel secure and protected all this time is suddenly gone, and all he can hear are the chaotic streams of panicked voices, more explosions, and general disarray that’s making him throb and quiver with fear.
Then he’s being lifted, held close to someone that smells of lavender and peaches, and he’s feeling safe again. Because he remembers that scent. He’s already associated it with the woman who’s been keeping him warm this entire time—
It’s only at this point that Sho realizes whose dream this is. Or rather, whose memories...
He can hear Satoshi’s voice, loud and deep with authority as he ushers his wife to the Lady Sadie, their ship. The one he’s spent countless days and nights building, upgrading, re-building, and re-upgrading again with Masaki.
Becky doesn’t want to leave without their friend.
Satoshi tells his wife that it is Masaki himself who’s causing the commotion, his voice hitching on a sob.
“We have to leave!”
Another deafening explosion propels their ship off to space.
And it’s Becky’s quiet sobs that Sho remembers hearing before his teary eyes start fluttering open back to his own reality...
4th Hour —
Sho’s center of gravity constantly shifts even without provocation. It’s the usual way of things. And most of the time, he can hardly keep up with it.
So he treats it as a small accomplishment of sorts that he doesn’t start wobbling over the egg up until now. Just when he’s started being keenly aware of its presence under his butt, conscious of the rather embarrassing contact he shares with it, and tremendously worried for its welfare whenever he ends up slipping to one side and then the other, he’s also become more diligent and precise about evenly distributing his weight on the little guy so he doesn’t end up accidentally breaking it—
“It’s not gonna break,” Satoshi assures him. “At least, not until it’s time for it to break.”
And yet, Sho keeps worrying, and mindfully adjusting himself in his nest, thinking more about the egg now instead of his own comfort.
It hardly bothers him how in a span of just an hour, the egg has managed to capture and own that tiny, tiny space in his heart that he doesn’t even know existed.
The very space that the Sherry Mae has already detected a few hours ago, before Sho himself is even aware enough of it to finally accept it as an indispensable part of himself.
Perhaps falling in-love for the second time isn’t really as impossible as he used to think it is—
“What are you smiling about now?”
He just stares at Satoshi for a long time, slumped in front of him again with that curious pout on his face that makes him look like an overgrown Allegran fish. Sho shakes his head no, the corners of his lips stretching into a wider grin, a surprisingly heartfelt smile.
Then the lingering aftermath of his recent descent into weakness makes him sniffle, his whole face flushing up at the still very vivid memories of himself bawling out like a baby over the demise of an entire planet he didn’t even know shit about, before his grief eventually bled into the shits that he did know about, but hoped to just forget—
His failed relationship with Macchan.
Macchan and Kiko hanging out.
Kiko getting pregnant.
Macchan and Kiko getting married this weekend and thus cursing Sho Sakurai to a lifetime of regret, and grief, all on his own.
He cried on the Allegran’s lap, his face buried into the pillow that the alien has put under his head to help him sleep more comfortably. He sputtered out curses, aimed mostly at himself, as he tried to put all that he’s feeling into words he can understand.
It didn’t really help him understand anything. But he did feel a lot lighter afterwards, as though a burden the size of a menacing space rock has just been lifted from off his chest.
And the entire time, Satoshi has been there, a hand tenderly cupped over his head, providing silent comfort while at the same time keeping a safe distance, almost as if he can implicitly understand that anything more than this might embarrass Sho and give the grief-stricken man another excuse to withdraw.
The alien didn’t utter a word, didn’t touch him anywhere beyond his hairline, but just stayed there. A quiet, yet indomitable presence, who also had a lot of things to grieve about, but selflessly let Sho have this moment all to himself.
Sho ended up just crying even harder when he realized how dumb and trivial his concerns were compared to what the Allegran had lost.
He sputtered out apologies for everything that he had done, for everything that he could’ve done but didn’t, and even for things he shouldn’t even concern himself about.
He would probably laugh about it later, but he really did feel sorry that an entire planet had to be destroyed, that a homeless alien had to appear at his doorway, and he had to find himself sitting on an egg first, before he could finally face himself and sort through his emotions; be weak and brave enough to cry.
It’s been a rather emotionally charged hour, to say the very least.
And some rather deep bonds have undoubtedly been forged along the way.
He has finally warmed up to the egg, though he can only barely understand the circumstances that led him to having to sit on it.
He can’t even envision what’s gonna come out of it, but he’s already sure it’s something he can easily fall in-love with at first sight.
Satoshi’s pout melts into an amused grin, as though the alien has just read what is currently going on in Sho’s mind, feel the pleasant emotions fluttering inside the earthling’s chest.
A rather embarrassed giggle escapes Sho’s throat as the egg wiggles under his butt, and his nerves are once again drowning in hot flushes.
Satoshi matches Sho’s giggle with his own snorty one, his gaze as shy as it is reassuring, like that of a schoolboy falling in-love for the first time.
And there’s suddenly another tiny, tiny space in Sho’s heart that starts beating again, right beside the one that the egg has already taken possession of.
Maybe falling in-love doesn’t really have to stop with just one. Or give up even, when the previous attempts fail—
Sho can only sigh and shake his head at all the fluffy, warm feelings and realizations he has just amassed in a single hour.
All the strange things that sitting on an egg can do to people...
5th Hour —
He hates the color purple.
Sho doesn’t really know why, or understand why for that matter. He just suddenly does.
He hates it with a fierceness that claws at his guts and fills his mind with consuming images of his hands doing vicious things to the annoyingly purplish Allegran in front of him, who has by now become utterly engrossed in an early morning fishing show he’s caught on TV after Sho taught him how to work the remote and he’s spent the first half hour flipping through the channels with a rather bored look on his face.
“Your shows are boring,” the alien grumbles, before begrudgingly settling for the fishing channel, and then instantly changing his opinion, because apparently, the fishes on earth are a lot more fun and colorful than the ones in Allegra.
And then it’s suddenly all about the fishes. About endless hours spent out in the sea, drinking some alien libations with the most alien names that Sho can’t really be bothered to ask about right now. Not that Satoshi would’ve even cared elaborating it all for him, what with the way the apparently fishing-addicted alien is going on and on about fishing pole types, proper reeling techniques and the many different types of Allegran lures that are more lifelike and meticulously crafted than the ones he’s seeing on TV.
“But your fishes are really top-notch! And they’re bigger, too! WOW!”
Sho clears his throat, because there’s a vicious lump in there that’s been trying to burst out into a string of curses for the past several minutes.
He isn’t usually bothered by fishes. Or long talks about them.
It’s just that he can’t seem to understand, and thus accept, the fact that after having spent the past few hours pampering him from head to foot, the surprisingly fickle alien is suddenly setting him aside in exchange for a few fishes—
“You’re oceans are so blue. I wonder if it’s because ours is purple that our aquatic faunas are different...”
Sho rolls his eyes, the growing hatred in his nerves rushing to his head, bursting in bright red colors in his mind—
What kind of planet has a purple ocean, anyway?! Is this alien for real?!
“I’d really like to try fishing in your ocean someday... Maybe after my egg hatches you can take me fishing, ne Sakurai-san?”
“Sure...” Sho says between his teeth, his smile strained and painful.
But Satoshi doesn’t really notice this anymore, because his attention has already riveted back to the more magnificent thresher shark hogging the screen. “Woah!! That’s so cool!!”
And Sho decides that this is the final straw. Funny because just a while ago, he was so ready to jump into bed with this purple alien.
This intriguingly desirable man—
“I need to pee,” he grumbles, louder than he intended to deliberately drown out his own thoughts of naked aliens and purple cum.
Satoshi doesn’t even bother turning to him. “But you just peed—”
“I need to pee again, okay?!” And without waiting for the alien to help him up, Sho bolts up on his own and charges off in heavy yet hurried steps, as though he’s off to fight in a gang war instead of a toilet break.
He probably did have to pee, but the moment he closes the door and leans on it with a deep sigh, the urge is just not there anymore.
He goes to the sink and splashes his face with water, catches sight of his own tired reflection in the mirror and splashes water on his face again.
No wonder Satoshi’s more interested in the fishes now. Sho looks HORRIBLE with capital everything. Pale gaunt face, bags under his eyes the size of bugs, chapped lips, and uneven stubbles all over his chin. Not to mention that his hair looks like an entire coop of chickens has just been nesting on it overnight.
He literally looks like a ghoul. And what makes it all worse is that, he’ll have to endure looking like a ghoul in front of Satoshi for two more hours.
No wonder the alien would rather talk about the fishes now.
No wonder he’s not interested in spoiling Sho anymore like how he’s been doing the past several hours.
That is, before the fishes came into their lives!
The fishes!
Stupid little, aquatic bastards of the sea—!
Sho blinks at himself, stares at himself, and then shakes his head at himself when it slowly dawns on him what he’s been doing this past couple of minutes.
Is he for real?!
HE, Sho Sakurai, newly appointed senior account manager of Nakai & Nakama Advertising Solutions, jealous of the fishes!!!
THE FISHES—!!!!
He hears soft knocks on the door. “Sakurai-san? Are you almost done?”
And just like that, he’s seeing purple again. In a very negative way. Catching another glimpse of his unappealing self in the mirror doesn’t help either.
“No,” he says. “No!” he says louder. “NO, GODDAMN YOU!!” he screams, banging his hands to the sink. “I’M NOT COMING OUT, YOU PURPLE PIECE OF SHIT!!”
“What?” he hears a timid voice behind the door, but this doesn’t stop him from flipping his lid and going all out mental.
He’s already gotten himself started. He doesn’t really know anymore how to stop. He stomps his feet to the tiled floor like a little brat with the worst tantrum ever, as he yells and yells and yells without really giving much thought to what he’s saying—
“I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOUR STUPID EGG!! THIS IS CRAZY!! YOU’RE CRAZY!! I CAN’T BELIEVE I FELL FOR YOUR PIECE OF SHIT TRICK!! I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW!! I’M NOT DOING THIS ANYMORE!! I’VE GOT MY OWN LIFE TO THINK ABOUT!! I’M SO DONE BOTHERING ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE’S BUSINESSES WHEN ALL OTHER PEOPLE THINK ABOUT ARE FISHES!! I HATE FISHES!! YOU CAN GO DROWN YOURSELF IN THE OCEAN WITH THEM, YOU SELIFSH, INSENSITIVE DICKHEAD!! AND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT YOU CAN TAKE YOUR EGG WITH YOU AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!! YOU STUPID, FREAKY, SON OF A BITCH, MORONIC, DOPEY, DWEEBY, WEIR—”
A sharp creaking sound cuts into his mindless tirade, effectively clipping his voice into a snorty shriek, “—do... What the f—?!”
“Uh, yeah,” Satoshi says, putting the door he has just pulled off its hinges aside. With his bare hands, apparently. “I can’t really hear what you were saying and you won’t open the door so...”
Sho’s heart almost drops to his feet the same way that his jaw is just about to slack off to the floor.
“What were you saying again, Sakurai-san?”
Gulping, Sho tries to pull enough of his wits together to at least pull off a shaky stutter. “I-I need to p-pee...”
“Oh...” The alien looks so endearingly clueless that it makes Sho want to cry and slap himself for everything that he’s just been saying about the man. “I guess I’ll just, uh, hold this up until you’re done. Uhm, excuse me...” He puts the door back into place, his pretty, spindly fingers gripping it from the other side.
Sho stares at the fingers for a long time. Long enough for his thoughts to wander off into wishful visions of himself and those fingers caught in some very intimate situations, that eventually triggers his bladder, which in turn snaps him back to his senses.
“Sakurai-san?”
“Hmm?” he hums, hooking his thumbs to the waistband of his pajamas.
“You’re not into nuclear testing or anything, are you?”
Sho snorts, figuring out what Satoshi meant quick enough to stop himself from laughing at how the alien’s voice quivered with undisguised fear. The man has, after all, lost his best friend, his wife and his entire planet, to an unfortunate emotional meltdown. “No, of course not. I’m into advertising. Not that it makes much of a difference.” He snickers softly at his own joke as he pulls his dick out from his briefs.
“Oh, that’s a relief!” Satoshi sighs. “I wouldn’t want this planet blowing up on me again, before I can even meet the fishes. You’ll take me out fishing, right Sakurai-san? You promised!”
Sho rolls his eyes and almost misses the bowl.
6th Hour —
Sho must admit that in all the hours he’s spent with his alien guest so far, this is the first time that he’s actually seen the man.
His ear-length, layered bob and side-swept fringes look so chic that he can easily pass for a girl at first glance. And the fact that it’s purple, glossy, and static-free only adds to its already deceptively girly appeal.
And what about that purple, body-hugging, stretchable suit with the silver-buckled belt and that jagged silver bolt drawn across the torso like a badge of novelty? Because he is, after all, the last remaining Allegran in the universe. Aside from the one still incubating inside the egg, of course. Who, Sho swears, will never have to suffer through the same fashion faux pas as his father.
Not that he’s saying he knows any better. Or that he’s even planning on taking the child under his wings, for that matter—
“Do you want to change?” he asks, his brows creasing with concern. Because merely looking at those elbow length gloves, knee-high boots and turtle-neck collar is already making him feel dizzy with heat for the sake of his alien friend.
Since when have they become friends, anyway?
“I’m good,” Satoshi says. The TV has been turned off and the man has eyes only for Sho again. Well, the egg and Sho. “It’s almost time. I need to be here for my child.”
“It won’t take long to change—”
Satoshi grins and shakes his head firmly. “I’m good.”
Sho sighs and settles back into a more comfortable slump over his nest. He props his elbows to his knees, cups his face in his hands and stares at Satoshi who is doing the same from the velveteen armchair the alien has dragged before of him.
He ends up giggling again at just how girly the Allegran looks, especially with his face set in an expectant pout.
Ironically, Sho’s stubbles have become itchier and seem to be growing at each passing second, and yet he’s the one who’s sitting on an egg—
“Why can’t you sit on your own egg, Satoshi-san?” he asks, rubbing a hand to his chin. “I mean, it’s your egg right?”
“I can’t.” The Allegran smirks. “I’m a man, you see. I don’t have the warmth needed to connect with the egg at this stage.”
“Connect?” Sho lets out a breathy sort of chuckle that is all parts jeering and skeptical. “With an egg?” He doesn’t even realize that he’s just missed pointing out that he’s also a man, despite all evidences to the contrary.
“Yes.” Satoshi leans back into the armchair, then fixes Sho with a rather challenging look. “You’ve felt it quite a number of times already, haven’t you?”
Sho’s lips twitches against a protest, his gaze suddenly resting on the headless Sherry Mae device on the couch. Perhaps, there really is something quite unique about him. Because he’s really been feeling every bit of the bonding connection the egg has been forging between them.
He cannot really describe it, but he can vividly feel it. It warms him up every once in a while, sending a rush of comfort through his nerves, like wordless reassurances, whenever he starts doubting the logic, the worth, the meaning, in whatever it is that he’s doing.
It speaks to him in dreams, showing him, and letting him share in its most precious memories whenever he closes his eyes and takes the briefest naps.
In many ways, it makes him feel special. Loved. Trusted.
Not just because of what he’s doing, but because of who he is, and who this child wants him to be in its life—
“He’s really warmed up to you, hasn’t he?”
“He?” He turns his gaze back to the alien, perhaps a little too excitedly than appropriate. “It’s a he?”
Satoshi nods, his grin sending Sho’s heart racing for some reason.
“How’d you know?”
“We have our ways...”
Sho hums, turning the thought over and over carefully in his head. A boy. It’s going to be a boy... He doesn’t even know why this excites him so, like he’s the one who’s about to pop a little boy from his own tushie—
What the hell am I even thinking—?!
“I’m really glad it’s you, you know?”
Sho shakes himself out of his reveries. “Huh?”
“I thinks it’s fate that my ship broke down in the parking lot downstairs—Sit down, Sakurai-san. You don’t have to worry, since Lady Sadie’s cloaking system is still operational, so it’s just sitting there in a corner, hidden from plain sight.”
Sho settles back into the egg with a sigh of relief, though he doesn’t really understand what the alien has just said.
But Satoshi has just told him not to worry, and he feels like just taking the man’s word for it like a dutiful wife.
“You were the only one who opened your door for me. Let me in, and agreed to care for my egg.”
Now that the alien has actually put what he just did into words, Sho can only shake his head at how stupid it all was.
He’ll probably need to take a break from everything and re-evaluate his values or something—
“And I’m really glad it’s you,” Satoshi says again, his gaze so tender, so affectionate, and so real that Sho can’t help but gulp and melt and let the butterflies take over his senses.
The egg moves beneath him and lets him know with the subtlest rush of warmth that he shares the same thoughts as his father.
And really, who needs to re-evaluate values when he can have all of these...?
Sho gives the alien a cheeky smile. “I’m really glad it’s me, too.”
7th Hour —
It’s the final hour. And for some reason, Sho has started feeling a little nervous. His stomach is even cramping and contracting and the bathroom breaks have become more frequent, too. As though he’s actually carrying the egg inside his non-existent womb, and he’s just about to give birth to it.
He’s also become a bit more jumpy than usual. At one point, his nipples have started prickling again, along with an itch that crawled all across his torso, forcing him to mindlessly pull his shirt off and check every inch of his body for any unsightly bumps and discolorations that might alter it in any way.
Satoshi has to reassure him over and over again that he’s gonna be okay. That what he’s read in that pregnancy book he practically gobbled up as a favor for Macchan won’t likely affect him, since this is a different matter all together.
That most of what he’s feeling right now is probably just his mind simulating the ideas he’s formed about being pregnant—
But his hips are really hurting.
There’s a cramp forming in his legs.
He’s sweating like a pig.
He feels bloated, and the painful throb in his head is only matched by the numbing contractions in his gut.
“I’m dying!” he groans, doubling over in agony.
“Stop thinking too much about it, Sakurai-san,” Satoshi calmly advises, before catching Sho’s wincing face in his hands. “Breathe. Just breathe... Fuu-fuu-haaaaa. Fuu-fuu-haaaaa.”
The Allegran’s breathing demonstration makes his face look crumpled and funny that Sho can’t help but burst out in unrestrained, unabashed laughter. “Idiot...” he chortles, his breath coming out in short, delighted gasps as all of his aches literally fade away, as if by magic.
And they’re suddenly just looking into each other’s eyes, while Satoshi’s hands are still pressed, warm and firm, against his cheeks.
And the air is suddenly crackling with currents of undeniable attraction, the sparks of undisguised want shamelessly reflected in their gazes.
Their throats move in tandem as they both gulp down the apprehensive lumps threatening to spoil this moment.
Their breaths even out in unison as their faces slowly move to close the cloying gap between their lips.
And with their pulses racing, eyes fluttering close in full submission to their raw desires, their lips finally meet in a chaste kiss.
Another light press.
A deeper third that lingers longer.
And then a much braver fourth that breaks through every bit of restraint in their minds with lips slightly open in a barefaced flirtation bolstered with a bit of Allegran tongue and the lightest earthling nibble.
Satoshi’s mouth feels warm in a way that’s very familiar, and yet blissfully different. Alien, but surprisingly earthbound at the same time. Sho can’t help wondering if it would be the same with everything else, as his hands sensually brushes up the alien’s sides, tracing the solid contours of the body hidden within the purple suit. Gripping and rubbing wherever he can, the same way that Satoshi is doing to his body: warm and curious Allegran palms feeling him up from his thighs, to his naked torso, all the way up to his neck, back to his unshaven face; rubbing his stubbles with such fond strokes that both tickle and chafe his skin and make his insides curl and sigh into the mind-blowing dominance the docile-looking alien is treating his lips with—
And then his bowels just has to choose this moment to act up, breaking wind in a snappy, rather obtrusive ‘phbt!’ that slices through the magic in the air.
“I just farted!” Sho exclaims after they pull apart. His horrified face flushing up in utter embarrassment, his eyes wide with panic. “Is the egg gonna be okay?!”
Satoshi squishes Sho’s face until Sho’s lips are curled up like a duck’s. “My son is strong. He can handle it,” he says, sneering.
Sho slaps the alien’s shoulder in mock annoyance. And then they’re both wincing and groaning and pinching their noses at the not-so-pleasant afterglow of Sho’s flagrant release.
“Oh, man! That sure claws at your nose, huh?” he says, laughing at his own depravity.
And Satoshi’s soon laughing with him, too. Like it’s the single, most laughable thing that has ever happened to their lives.
But then they abruptly stop, their ears keenly perking up.
And they’re just gazing at each other again with bated breaths. Except that the anticipation that’s gleaming in their eyes right now, is of an entirely different sort.
Then the egg cracks for the second time.
It’s a boy!—
The prospect of parenthood is a truly wonderful thing. At least, that’s what Sho keeps telling himself as he watches Satoshi’s little boy, the one that Sho himself has been warming up for the last seven hours, literally break though his shell, hands and legs pushing and kicking languidly, carefully.
Too carefully that the impatient Sho almost reaches into the basket at one point, to try and help the little guy out.
“No,” Satoshi admonishes him with an authority that sends him cowering back to his knees. “That’s how he’ll learn to use his limbs. Let him do it on his own. He can manage.”
Sho is still not totally sold on the idea, but when Satoshi smiles at him as though the man holds the world in his hands and that there’s absolutely nothing that can ever go wrong with it, all Sho can do is sigh and trust the purple angel that he himself has willingly let into his home.
“You’ve given him enough reasons to want to live outside of his shell, haven’t you?” Satoshi says in a softer, more personal voice, as he grabs and grips Sho’s hand in warm reassurance. “He’s gonna be okay...”
It takes about half an hour for the Allegran baby to finally rid himself of the shell that has once been his world, his home. And the sight of him lying on his side, in a mess of linens and broken eggshells, all curled up and covered in clear goo with slight traces of white gunk and blood, so overwhelms Sho’s heart that if he were to grab the Sherry Mae at this very moment, the device would’ve blasted off through the upper floors, all the way past the roof and off into the stars.
He cups his hands to his mouth, rocks himself back and forth on his knees as he heaves the deepest breaths that do nothing at all to stop his tears from brazenly gushing out.
He barely feels Satoshi grabbing his nape and planting a deep, wet smack on his cheek.
He does vaguely see the man reach into the basket and pick the little boy up, and his heart just melts all over again at the sight of father and son meeting each other for the first time.
But then a painful realization makes Sho’s heart lurch, then constrict from a sudden rush of melancholy, because it’s just become clear to him how much this vision means to him now, and yet he’s not even sure if this vision would actually let him take part in it. Be a part of it.
He sniffles, rubbing his fists to his face.
But Satoshi’s suddenly kneeling in front of him, holding the baby out to him, all bundled up in a blanket. “Hey...”
And he willingly takes the baby into his arms, instantly feeling the familiar rush of fondness and warmth the little guy has been channeling to his nerves throughout the time that they have spent together, connected in the most unusual way. It makes him smile and forget about his previous apprehensions.
Satoshi’s baby is just as beautiful as he is, though pale and rather fragile looking. The mole on the little guy’s chin stands out like a charm. Sho’s almost positive that the mark itself will attract hoards of admirers in the future.
The baby’s eyes that have carefully been rubbed of goo, has just began fluttering open, as though he can hardly wait to see the selfless earthman who has willingly taken over his late mother’s task of keeping him warm, bonding with him, and giving him all the reasons he needed to want to be a part of this world.
Sobs of affection lace Sho’s resulting giggles as their gazes finally meet. His heart surrendering to the eternal devotion he hopes to give to this boy, if his father would just allow it—
Sho taps a finger to the baby’s little button nose, his breath hitching when the baby grabs his finger with both hands and presses it close to his lips, as though sealing their unspoken deal with his own version of a kiss.
Satoshi doesn’t even need to ask the question.
All it takes is a look, and a smile, with a little fluttering in the chest, and they both know that their lives are forever intertwined.
After all, the Sherry Mae maternal instinct meter never lies.
***I don’t own Purple Ohno and Allegra. Nor do I have anything to do with Manabu City, the Gumi-Gumi Belt, the Kirin Mets System, and Sherry Mae.
***Gotsimulation help from this. I may have exaggerated on a few things, though. orz
Group/Pairing: Arashi/Yama Pair (Ohno/Sho)
Prompt: “I’m an alien”
Word Count: 7812
Rating: PG-13
Genre: au/humor+angst+fluff/mpregg
Summary: A purple-haired, purple-garbed, absolute head case of an alien comes to Sho Sakurai’s door one night with an egg and a desperate plea: “Will you sit on this for me?”
Disclaimer: All fiction. I swear. :3
Note: written for
rainbowfilling.Note II: Downloadable version by
rifnaoei ♥Warning: mentioned character death
Side Pairings: (only hinted on) Jun/Sho, Jun/Kiko, Ohno/Becky, Aiba/Becky
Apparently Sho Sakurai is a warm and motherly type of man. The Sherry Mae maternal instinct meter is always accurate, the alien says.
Not that Sho would particularly trust a dubious-looking alien device, made out into the likeness of a teddy bear—a crazed and defective one, no doubt—wiggling its furry little limbs and crying out, “Mommy! Mommy!” in an impassioned, robotic voice, as soon as he held it in his arms.
Nor would he have even let this dizzyingly purplish weirdo, claiming to be the last remaining survivor of some planet called Allegra, come into his apartment and make these stupid, harebrained demands like, well... like he’s the last remaining survivor of some planet called Allegra!
Where the hell is Allegra supposed to be anyway?!
“Nowhere,” the alien says, looking so forlorn all of a sudden that Sho practically has to gurgle and gulp just so he doesn’t end up choking on his guilt.
He has actually also began feeling sympathetic, which much to his inner dread, just proves the Sherry Mae’s supposed accuracy. “Um... I’m sorry...”
“Naaah, it’s fine!” The alien waves a dismissive hand, his face instantly breaking into a smile. As though he hasn’t just been talking about how some unfortunate nuclear accident in the capital city of Manabu has blasted his home planet into an endless stream of insignificant space rocks now orbiting the Gumi-Gumi Belt in the planetary system of Kirin Mets—
Sho doesn’t even know why he bothers remembering the names. Or why this alien is still in his living room for that matter.
“If you... well, if you need a place to stay for the night, you can... um, you can take the couch... If you want to... That is.” Dammit! Why the hell would he say something like that?! And to a stranger, no less!
“You are very kind.” The alien bows his head briefly in a gesture of gratitude and respect. “But I only have one reason for coming here, and I mustn’t waste any more time.” He kneels before the steel case he has dragged into the room with him, presses a few buttons on the panel on its lid, releasing pressure from the box with a whizz and a shock of white smoke that makes Sho step away from it with a panicked shriek.
The lid splits open and a yellow light, dulled by the smog still streaming out, starts blinking from inside the box. The purple-haired alien then gingerly reaches in and rather dramatically pulls out a yellowed egg that is roughly the size of a densuke watermelon. Like the one Sho has just seen his colleague, Macchan, give his other colleague, Kiko the other day.
Sho doesn’t particularly fancy watermelons. Or Kiko for that matter.
But the egg does effectively catch his attention more than the fanfare that brought it to his life.
“You want me to cook it for you?” he asks, eyeing the egg with shameless craving. He’s just, after all, been rudely interrupted from his midnight snack.
The alien looks absolutely horrified, hugging the egg protectively to his chest. “God, no! I want you to sit on it!”
“Wait... You want me to WHAT?!|”
“Sit on it. Until it hatches.”
Now, Sho looks absolutely horrified. His mouth hanging open, the earthling lets out a pathetic snort that might’ve been laughter if he weren’t otherwise stunned out of his wits, his balls trembling in sympathetic support of his growing dread.
What did he ever do to deserve this anyway?!
Oh, right. He has just stupidly opened his door to a stranger! One that instantly made him believe that heavenly angels do exist and that they look just as purple and quirky—!
“I’m not doing that!” he says, once he regains his voice and a dash of his wits. “Are you CRAZY?!”
The purple weirdo shrugs, his whole frame wilting into a defeated slump until he’s almost slipping off the edge of the couch. “Then I guess, Allegra’s race is really gonna end with me... It’s hopeless... I should just shoot myself right now...”
Sho’s heart breaks unbidden at the sight of his guest practically wilting in misery, his reaction instantly sending the Sherry Mae’s limbs whirling frantically until the device is spurting out smoke from its ears.
It only takes a pout and a few imploring eye flutters from the alien to send the conflicted, yet naturally giving man screaming his throat hoarse in reluctant surrender.
The Sherry Mae’s head pops off like a champagne cork in mock celebration.
1st Hour —
Seven hours.
The purple weirdo who calls himself Satoshi says Sho only has to do this for approximately seven hours.
“That’s how much time it needed to stay warm before the ship’s incubator broke,” the alien explains, his face so straight and matter-of-fact that it would’ve been hard to laugh even if he were joking.
Like it isn’t bad enough that Sho has to sit on someone else’s egg to begin with! Or that there even has to be an egg!
“You mean you’re not hatched from eggs?”
“Um, no. We come out like this. Well not like like this, but uhm... smaller.” He could probably go on a long discussion about the almost mystical wonders of pregnancy (he did, after all, just read an entire book about it, so he can then explain it in simpler terms to Macchan, who can then use it to better care for Kiko), but he figures, why bother?
It’s not like the alien looks particularly interested, anyway. And it’s not really something Sho himself is particularly interested in touching on at the moment, either.
Better leave the angst out of this equation. Having the egg is complicated enough as it is.
A makeshift nest of blankets and linens has been bunched up in Sho’s laundry basket, snuggly wrapped around the Allegran’s last hope of preserving his race. Only a quarter spread of the symbolic egg’s face is left exposed so that Sho’s butt can get up close and personal with it.
“Hmm, that’s weird. How do you manage to come out in one piece then? I cannot imagine it.”
Sho shrugs and shifts a little to balance himself more comfortably in his nest. Fortunately, the basket is sturdy enough to hold both his weight and his dying hope of ever waking out of this nightmare.
“I can’t imagine a woman popping out an egg this size, either,” he says instead, keen on keeping the conversation going so he can, somehow, distract himself.
“Well, Allegran women are amazing, aren’t they?” Although Satoshi’s voice is filled with pride, it is also steeped in traces of grief.
He sits there, on the carpeted floor, right in front of Sho. His head bowed low to hide his silent tears; shoulders drooping in an absolute picture of mourning, of regret and longing; his breaths coming out in wistful sighs—
Taking a deep breath of his own, Sho ventures to ask, “Is this egg yours?”
“Yes.”
“And your wife?”
“She died in transit.”
“Oh... I’m sorry.” Sho swears he has never seen a man look so crushed, aside maybe from his own image in the mirror a few hours ago, after he’s run his trembling fingers over the cursive characters spelling out Macchan’s and Kiko’s names on the wedding invitation for the hundredth time, and giving up all hopes of it ever saying anything different. “What was her name?”
“Becky.”
Something about the way Satoshi has said that name makes Sho’s heart flutter and then break for both himself and the Allegran. “She must’ve been a very lovely woman, huh?”
The alien smiles fondly. “She was. She also made the Sherry Mae’s head pop, you know.”
A strangled whimper breaks out from Sho’s throat, because for some reason Satoshi’s eyes are suddenly telling him things that are otherworldly yet worryingly intimate. The egg did also just give a slight wiggle under his butt, and a numbing burst of hot flushes has just begun crawling under his skin as a result. “You do realize that I’m a man, right?”
Satoshi responds with a soft chuckle that might’ve been insulting if not for the playful sparkle in his eyes and the missed beat in Sho’s chest.
Sho has also just become keenly aware that he’s currently sitting on an egg, like an overgrown mother hen, which does nothing at all to warrant his argument.
“It’s moving around a lot,” he says instead, his ears quickly burning up at just how soft his voice has sounded. “Maybe it doesn’t really like me all that much.”
“It’s just trying to get acquainted to your warmth.”
Something about those casual words sounded really wrong, but Sho decides to keep his opinion to himself. Especially when he sees the lines on the alien’s face ease up into a relieved sigh. He doesn’t know why he even cares. He just does.
Then again, it can also just be the egg messing up with his mind. Or the fact that he still hasn’t gotten around to fixing himself his customary midnight snack.
Still flushed up, but with nowhere else to hide, Sho props an elbow on his knee, cups a hand to his face, and tries to affect as much show of disinterest as he can. “This feels a lot like being pregnant.” His voice cracks in his half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, and he ends up sounding more amused than annoyed.
And how the hell does he even know how being pregnant feels like anyway?!
The egg gives another wiggle. Sho responds with a startled gasp. Is he just imagining things or did he really just feel a slight tingling in his nipples? He instinctively frisks his chest to assure himself that he’s not growing boobies—
He’s not.
Of course, he’s not!
What the hell is he thinking, anyway?!
The egg moves again and the prickling in his nipples starts anew. Sho whines in utter fear as he wraps his arms around his chest tightly. “AM I GROWING BOBBIES?!”
“What?” The Allegran looks totally lost.
“This... This egg! Is it gonna change my body in any way?! Is it gonna give me BREASTS?!”
“I. Don’t. Think. So...?”
Sho likes nothing more than to jump at the alien and dig his claws into that baffled alien face. He knows it’s absurd to go ballistic over something that’s biologically impossible, but an alien did also just land on his doorstep and asked him to sit on an egg!
He feels like nothing short of the egg wiggling its way into his ass can surprise him any more than growing from a ‘bra-what-bra?’ to a cup-size ‘dammit!’.
Anything can happen in seven hours.
But then the wiggling stops and his nipples are okay again, still as flat as they should ever be.
“You’ll be fine, Sakurai-san,” the Allegran assures him, smiling more confidently now and reminding Sho all over again why he even let this weirdo into his house in the first place.
He decides the clawing will have to wait.
2nd Hour —
In retrospect, he really should’ve thought twice before opening his door to a stranger. Sho knows there’s no use moping about this now, but sitting on an egg for one full hour with nothing else to do and nothing much to look forward to than sitting on the very same egg for another six hours, can really do strange things to the sanest minds.
He’s actually just started feeling like his brain’s gradually turning into a glob of goop that’s gonna eventually start leaking out of his ears. For how else can he explain the nauseous headache that’s been ripping through his scalp for the last couple of minutes?
“I need to lie down,” he groans, cradling his head in his palms to try and keep it together. It’s already past two in the morning and he has yet to sleep a single wink. He’s pretty sure this has nothing to do with the drilling pain in his head, though. He’s used to not getting sleep, especially since he’s just been promoted as senior account manager at the Nakai & Nakama advertising company, after practically working himself into a near stroke for it for the past seven years.
There’s also the matter of his ex’s upcoming marriage to a woman who started out as a casual fling after Sho and Macchan broke up over the former’s highly ambitious work attitude, and the latter’s constant complaints of ‘We hardly even see each other anymore, and we’re working in the same place!’
So, yeah. He hasn’t been sleeping very well since he can remember. And this is the first time, in all of those seven years, that his head has started acting up like it’s about to go supernova—
He’s probably been losing it for quite a while. He just didn’t have the time to actually notice it until now.
Sitting on an egg, and being idle like he’s never idled since rushing out of the university with his diploma in one hand and the rest of his life in the other, has been forcing him to think too much about the things that shouldn’t matter. The very ones that can grate at his nerves and send him crashing and burning into the pits of his own stupid regrets—
“I seriously need to lie down!” he says again, in a louder, more indignant tone, so that it doesn’t get ignored like the last time.
He flinches and gasps when he feels a pair of gentle hands tugging at his shoulders. “Lean back,” Satoshi says, his voice soft and husky all at once. And Sho does not even think twice before giving in and sighing into his alien guest’s mercy.
He can’t tell just when exactly did the purple weirdo drag one of his black velvet dining chairs into the living room and place it behind him. But it hardly matters now. Not when he’s already comfortably nestled in the warm and rather intimate space between the alien’s legs, his head almost literally turning into putty in the firm and able fingers kneading all of his aches away.
“Do you feel better now?”
Sho can only hum in response. After all, it’s not every day that he gets pampered like this. Not since he chose to work for a higher salary grade than a healthy and fulfilling relationship with the one man who’s ever been able to tolerate him for everything.
“I’m glad...” The alien’s hands slide from the side of Sho’s head to his nape, maintaining a consistently firm pressure that flushes the tension from his head down to his shoulders, where the alien then proceeds to rub and knead it off with the skillful strokes of his hands, his calm and measured breathing quickly influencing Sho’s own breaths.
He moans. And groans. Completely giving up all stubborn sense of control and just savoring every relaxing sensation the alien’s hands are giving him.
How can he even think he’ll ever manage to live without this? Without such loving and tender hands working him up and back to everything about him that makes him human?
One who feels. Who loves. Who hurts.
One who can also break apart, if he just allows himself to.
Except that the moment his head begins to sag backwards, and his mouth slacks open to witlessly let out a stream of snores, each one progressively louder than the last, all thoughts in his much too overworked mind just completely fade away.
Apparently, breaking apart will have to wait, too.
3rd Hour —
He’s dreaming.
Except that he’s pretty sure it’s not his dream.
It’s just a mess of colors, splattered on his dream vision like a kaleidoscope that’s been warped out of all its artistic proportions.
He can hear voices, too. Rebounding echoes from a past that does not belong to him either.
He can make out three distinct names, is even gradually able to associate them with three distinct voices, laughing and talking about some fond memories all three of them can share like old friends who have been through a lot together—
If he hasn’t heard the names beforehand, Sho would’ve probably ended up thinking that this was a sort of twisted version of himself, Jun, and Kiko in some alternate universe where they can all still co-exist without one them—namely, him—rotting away inside.
But this isn’t them. And this isn’t his world.
This is Satoshi’s world. Or was...
And the woman with the musical giggles wasn’t Kiko, but Becky, Satoshi’s wife.
And the man with a seeming penchant of peppering his storytelling with lousy attempts at reproducing non-human sound effects couldn’t possibly be Jun—heaven forbid!—but was instead Masaki, who Sho can only assume was Satoshi’s best friend.
He can’t see their faces, though. But he can tell that they’re happy.
And he feels happy for them, too, for some reason, despite the fact that his head has been spinning throughout this entire dizzying foray into somebody else’s kaleidoscope memories...
Then a loud explosion suddenly jars his already jagged dream vision even more, the colors dispersing out into a blinding stretch of white. It doesn’t help that the warmth that’s been making him feel secure and protected all this time is suddenly gone, and all he can hear are the chaotic streams of panicked voices, more explosions, and general disarray that’s making him throb and quiver with fear.
Then he’s being lifted, held close to someone that smells of lavender and peaches, and he’s feeling safe again. Because he remembers that scent. He’s already associated it with the woman who’s been keeping him warm this entire time—
It’s only at this point that Sho realizes whose dream this is. Or rather, whose memories...
He can hear Satoshi’s voice, loud and deep with authority as he ushers his wife to the Lady Sadie, their ship. The one he’s spent countless days and nights building, upgrading, re-building, and re-upgrading again with Masaki.
Becky doesn’t want to leave without their friend.
Satoshi tells his wife that it is Masaki himself who’s causing the commotion, his voice hitching on a sob.
“We have to leave!”
Another deafening explosion propels their ship off to space.
And it’s Becky’s quiet sobs that Sho remembers hearing before his teary eyes start fluttering open back to his own reality...
4th Hour —
Sho’s center of gravity constantly shifts even without provocation. It’s the usual way of things. And most of the time, he can hardly keep up with it.
So he treats it as a small accomplishment of sorts that he doesn’t start wobbling over the egg up until now. Just when he’s started being keenly aware of its presence under his butt, conscious of the rather embarrassing contact he shares with it, and tremendously worried for its welfare whenever he ends up slipping to one side and then the other, he’s also become more diligent and precise about evenly distributing his weight on the little guy so he doesn’t end up accidentally breaking it—
“It’s not gonna break,” Satoshi assures him. “At least, not until it’s time for it to break.”
And yet, Sho keeps worrying, and mindfully adjusting himself in his nest, thinking more about the egg now instead of his own comfort.
It hardly bothers him how in a span of just an hour, the egg has managed to capture and own that tiny, tiny space in his heart that he doesn’t even know existed.
The very space that the Sherry Mae has already detected a few hours ago, before Sho himself is even aware enough of it to finally accept it as an indispensable part of himself.
Perhaps falling in-love for the second time isn’t really as impossible as he used to think it is—
“What are you smiling about now?”
He just stares at Satoshi for a long time, slumped in front of him again with that curious pout on his face that makes him look like an overgrown Allegran fish. Sho shakes his head no, the corners of his lips stretching into a wider grin, a surprisingly heartfelt smile.
Then the lingering aftermath of his recent descent into weakness makes him sniffle, his whole face flushing up at the still very vivid memories of himself bawling out like a baby over the demise of an entire planet he didn’t even know shit about, before his grief eventually bled into the shits that he did know about, but hoped to just forget—
His failed relationship with Macchan.
Macchan and Kiko hanging out.
Kiko getting pregnant.
Macchan and Kiko getting married this weekend and thus cursing Sho Sakurai to a lifetime of regret, and grief, all on his own.
He cried on the Allegran’s lap, his face buried into the pillow that the alien has put under his head to help him sleep more comfortably. He sputtered out curses, aimed mostly at himself, as he tried to put all that he’s feeling into words he can understand.
It didn’t really help him understand anything. But he did feel a lot lighter afterwards, as though a burden the size of a menacing space rock has just been lifted from off his chest.
And the entire time, Satoshi has been there, a hand tenderly cupped over his head, providing silent comfort while at the same time keeping a safe distance, almost as if he can implicitly understand that anything more than this might embarrass Sho and give the grief-stricken man another excuse to withdraw.
The alien didn’t utter a word, didn’t touch him anywhere beyond his hairline, but just stayed there. A quiet, yet indomitable presence, who also had a lot of things to grieve about, but selflessly let Sho have this moment all to himself.
Sho ended up just crying even harder when he realized how dumb and trivial his concerns were compared to what the Allegran had lost.
He sputtered out apologies for everything that he had done, for everything that he could’ve done but didn’t, and even for things he shouldn’t even concern himself about.
He would probably laugh about it later, but he really did feel sorry that an entire planet had to be destroyed, that a homeless alien had to appear at his doorway, and he had to find himself sitting on an egg first, before he could finally face himself and sort through his emotions; be weak and brave enough to cry.
It’s been a rather emotionally charged hour, to say the very least.
And some rather deep bonds have undoubtedly been forged along the way.
He has finally warmed up to the egg, though he can only barely understand the circumstances that led him to having to sit on it.
He can’t even envision what’s gonna come out of it, but he’s already sure it’s something he can easily fall in-love with at first sight.
Satoshi’s pout melts into an amused grin, as though the alien has just read what is currently going on in Sho’s mind, feel the pleasant emotions fluttering inside the earthling’s chest.
A rather embarrassed giggle escapes Sho’s throat as the egg wiggles under his butt, and his nerves are once again drowning in hot flushes.
Satoshi matches Sho’s giggle with his own snorty one, his gaze as shy as it is reassuring, like that of a schoolboy falling in-love for the first time.
And there’s suddenly another tiny, tiny space in Sho’s heart that starts beating again, right beside the one that the egg has already taken possession of.
Maybe falling in-love doesn’t really have to stop with just one. Or give up even, when the previous attempts fail—
Sho can only sigh and shake his head at all the fluffy, warm feelings and realizations he has just amassed in a single hour.
All the strange things that sitting on an egg can do to people...
5th Hour —
He hates the color purple.
Sho doesn’t really know why, or understand why for that matter. He just suddenly does.
He hates it with a fierceness that claws at his guts and fills his mind with consuming images of his hands doing vicious things to the annoyingly purplish Allegran in front of him, who has by now become utterly engrossed in an early morning fishing show he’s caught on TV after Sho taught him how to work the remote and he’s spent the first half hour flipping through the channels with a rather bored look on his face.
“Your shows are boring,” the alien grumbles, before begrudgingly settling for the fishing channel, and then instantly changing his opinion, because apparently, the fishes on earth are a lot more fun and colorful than the ones in Allegra.
And then it’s suddenly all about the fishes. About endless hours spent out in the sea, drinking some alien libations with the most alien names that Sho can’t really be bothered to ask about right now. Not that Satoshi would’ve even cared elaborating it all for him, what with the way the apparently fishing-addicted alien is going on and on about fishing pole types, proper reeling techniques and the many different types of Allegran lures that are more lifelike and meticulously crafted than the ones he’s seeing on TV.
“But your fishes are really top-notch! And they’re bigger, too! WOW!”
Sho clears his throat, because there’s a vicious lump in there that’s been trying to burst out into a string of curses for the past several minutes.
He isn’t usually bothered by fishes. Or long talks about them.
It’s just that he can’t seem to understand, and thus accept, the fact that after having spent the past few hours pampering him from head to foot, the surprisingly fickle alien is suddenly setting him aside in exchange for a few fishes—
“You’re oceans are so blue. I wonder if it’s because ours is purple that our aquatic faunas are different...”
Sho rolls his eyes, the growing hatred in his nerves rushing to his head, bursting in bright red colors in his mind—
What kind of planet has a purple ocean, anyway?! Is this alien for real?!
“I’d really like to try fishing in your ocean someday... Maybe after my egg hatches you can take me fishing, ne Sakurai-san?”
“Sure...” Sho says between his teeth, his smile strained and painful.
But Satoshi doesn’t really notice this anymore, because his attention has already riveted back to the more magnificent thresher shark hogging the screen. “Woah!! That’s so cool!!”
And Sho decides that this is the final straw. Funny because just a while ago, he was so ready to jump into bed with this purple alien.
This intriguingly desirable man—
“I need to pee,” he grumbles, louder than he intended to deliberately drown out his own thoughts of naked aliens and purple cum.
Satoshi doesn’t even bother turning to him. “But you just peed—”
“I need to pee again, okay?!” And without waiting for the alien to help him up, Sho bolts up on his own and charges off in heavy yet hurried steps, as though he’s off to fight in a gang war instead of a toilet break.
He probably did have to pee, but the moment he closes the door and leans on it with a deep sigh, the urge is just not there anymore.
He goes to the sink and splashes his face with water, catches sight of his own tired reflection in the mirror and splashes water on his face again.
No wonder Satoshi’s more interested in the fishes now. Sho looks HORRIBLE with capital everything. Pale gaunt face, bags under his eyes the size of bugs, chapped lips, and uneven stubbles all over his chin. Not to mention that his hair looks like an entire coop of chickens has just been nesting on it overnight.
He literally looks like a ghoul. And what makes it all worse is that, he’ll have to endure looking like a ghoul in front of Satoshi for two more hours.
No wonder the alien would rather talk about the fishes now.
No wonder he’s not interested in spoiling Sho anymore like how he’s been doing the past several hours.
That is, before the fishes came into their lives!
The fishes!
Stupid little, aquatic bastards of the sea—!
Sho blinks at himself, stares at himself, and then shakes his head at himself when it slowly dawns on him what he’s been doing this past couple of minutes.
Is he for real?!
HE, Sho Sakurai, newly appointed senior account manager of Nakai & Nakama Advertising Solutions, jealous of the fishes!!!
THE FISHES—!!!!
He hears soft knocks on the door. “Sakurai-san? Are you almost done?”
And just like that, he’s seeing purple again. In a very negative way. Catching another glimpse of his unappealing self in the mirror doesn’t help either.
“No,” he says. “No!” he says louder. “NO, GODDAMN YOU!!” he screams, banging his hands to the sink. “I’M NOT COMING OUT, YOU PURPLE PIECE OF SHIT!!”
“What?” he hears a timid voice behind the door, but this doesn’t stop him from flipping his lid and going all out mental.
He’s already gotten himself started. He doesn’t really know anymore how to stop. He stomps his feet to the tiled floor like a little brat with the worst tantrum ever, as he yells and yells and yells without really giving much thought to what he’s saying—
“I HATE YOU!! I HATE YOUR STUPID EGG!! THIS IS CRAZY!! YOU’RE CRAZY!! I CAN’T BELIEVE I FELL FOR YOUR PIECE OF SHIT TRICK!! I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE RIGHT NOW!! I’M NOT DOING THIS ANYMORE!! I’VE GOT MY OWN LIFE TO THINK ABOUT!! I’M SO DONE BOTHERING ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE’S BUSINESSES WHEN ALL OTHER PEOPLE THINK ABOUT ARE FISHES!! I HATE FISHES!! YOU CAN GO DROWN YOURSELF IN THE OCEAN WITH THEM, YOU SELIFSH, INSENSITIVE DICKHEAD!! AND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT YOU CAN TAKE YOUR EGG WITH YOU AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!! YOU STUPID, FREAKY, SON OF A BITCH, MORONIC, DOPEY, DWEEBY, WEIR—”
A sharp creaking sound cuts into his mindless tirade, effectively clipping his voice into a snorty shriek, “—do... What the f—?!”
“Uh, yeah,” Satoshi says, putting the door he has just pulled off its hinges aside. With his bare hands, apparently. “I can’t really hear what you were saying and you won’t open the door so...”
Sho’s heart almost drops to his feet the same way that his jaw is just about to slack off to the floor.
“What were you saying again, Sakurai-san?”
Gulping, Sho tries to pull enough of his wits together to at least pull off a shaky stutter. “I-I need to p-pee...”
“Oh...” The alien looks so endearingly clueless that it makes Sho want to cry and slap himself for everything that he’s just been saying about the man. “I guess I’ll just, uh, hold this up until you’re done. Uhm, excuse me...” He puts the door back into place, his pretty, spindly fingers gripping it from the other side.
Sho stares at the fingers for a long time. Long enough for his thoughts to wander off into wishful visions of himself and those fingers caught in some very intimate situations, that eventually triggers his bladder, which in turn snaps him back to his senses.
“Sakurai-san?”
“Hmm?” he hums, hooking his thumbs to the waistband of his pajamas.
“You’re not into nuclear testing or anything, are you?”
Sho snorts, figuring out what Satoshi meant quick enough to stop himself from laughing at how the alien’s voice quivered with undisguised fear. The man has, after all, lost his best friend, his wife and his entire planet, to an unfortunate emotional meltdown. “No, of course not. I’m into advertising. Not that it makes much of a difference.” He snickers softly at his own joke as he pulls his dick out from his briefs.
“Oh, that’s a relief!” Satoshi sighs. “I wouldn’t want this planet blowing up on me again, before I can even meet the fishes. You’ll take me out fishing, right Sakurai-san? You promised!”
Sho rolls his eyes and almost misses the bowl.
6th Hour —
Sho must admit that in all the hours he’s spent with his alien guest so far, this is the first time that he’s actually seen the man.
His ear-length, layered bob and side-swept fringes look so chic that he can easily pass for a girl at first glance. And the fact that it’s purple, glossy, and static-free only adds to its already deceptively girly appeal.
And what about that purple, body-hugging, stretchable suit with the silver-buckled belt and that jagged silver bolt drawn across the torso like a badge of novelty? Because he is, after all, the last remaining Allegran in the universe. Aside from the one still incubating inside the egg, of course. Who, Sho swears, will never have to suffer through the same fashion faux pas as his father.
Not that he’s saying he knows any better. Or that he’s even planning on taking the child under his wings, for that matter—
“Do you want to change?” he asks, his brows creasing with concern. Because merely looking at those elbow length gloves, knee-high boots and turtle-neck collar is already making him feel dizzy with heat for the sake of his alien friend.
Since when have they become friends, anyway?
“I’m good,” Satoshi says. The TV has been turned off and the man has eyes only for Sho again. Well, the egg and Sho. “It’s almost time. I need to be here for my child.”
“It won’t take long to change—”
Satoshi grins and shakes his head firmly. “I’m good.”
Sho sighs and settles back into a more comfortable slump over his nest. He props his elbows to his knees, cups his face in his hands and stares at Satoshi who is doing the same from the velveteen armchair the alien has dragged before of him.
He ends up giggling again at just how girly the Allegran looks, especially with his face set in an expectant pout.
Ironically, Sho’s stubbles have become itchier and seem to be growing at each passing second, and yet he’s the one who’s sitting on an egg—
“Why can’t you sit on your own egg, Satoshi-san?” he asks, rubbing a hand to his chin. “I mean, it’s your egg right?”
“I can’t.” The Allegran smirks. “I’m a man, you see. I don’t have the warmth needed to connect with the egg at this stage.”
“Connect?” Sho lets out a breathy sort of chuckle that is all parts jeering and skeptical. “With an egg?” He doesn’t even realize that he’s just missed pointing out that he’s also a man, despite all evidences to the contrary.
“Yes.” Satoshi leans back into the armchair, then fixes Sho with a rather challenging look. “You’ve felt it quite a number of times already, haven’t you?”
Sho’s lips twitches against a protest, his gaze suddenly resting on the headless Sherry Mae device on the couch. Perhaps, there really is something quite unique about him. Because he’s really been feeling every bit of the bonding connection the egg has been forging between them.
He cannot really describe it, but he can vividly feel it. It warms him up every once in a while, sending a rush of comfort through his nerves, like wordless reassurances, whenever he starts doubting the logic, the worth, the meaning, in whatever it is that he’s doing.
It speaks to him in dreams, showing him, and letting him share in its most precious memories whenever he closes his eyes and takes the briefest naps.
In many ways, it makes him feel special. Loved. Trusted.
Not just because of what he’s doing, but because of who he is, and who this child wants him to be in its life—
“He’s really warmed up to you, hasn’t he?”
“He?” He turns his gaze back to the alien, perhaps a little too excitedly than appropriate. “It’s a he?”
Satoshi nods, his grin sending Sho’s heart racing for some reason.
“How’d you know?”
“We have our ways...”
Sho hums, turning the thought over and over carefully in his head. A boy. It’s going to be a boy... He doesn’t even know why this excites him so, like he’s the one who’s about to pop a little boy from his own tushie—
What the hell am I even thinking—?!
“I’m really glad it’s you, you know?”
Sho shakes himself out of his reveries. “Huh?”
“I thinks it’s fate that my ship broke down in the parking lot downstairs—Sit down, Sakurai-san. You don’t have to worry, since Lady Sadie’s cloaking system is still operational, so it’s just sitting there in a corner, hidden from plain sight.”
Sho settles back into the egg with a sigh of relief, though he doesn’t really understand what the alien has just said.
But Satoshi has just told him not to worry, and he feels like just taking the man’s word for it like a dutiful wife.
“You were the only one who opened your door for me. Let me in, and agreed to care for my egg.”
Now that the alien has actually put what he just did into words, Sho can only shake his head at how stupid it all was.
He’ll probably need to take a break from everything and re-evaluate his values or something—
“And I’m really glad it’s you,” Satoshi says again, his gaze so tender, so affectionate, and so real that Sho can’t help but gulp and melt and let the butterflies take over his senses.
The egg moves beneath him and lets him know with the subtlest rush of warmth that he shares the same thoughts as his father.
And really, who needs to re-evaluate values when he can have all of these...?
Sho gives the alien a cheeky smile. “I’m really glad it’s me, too.”
7th Hour —
It’s the final hour. And for some reason, Sho has started feeling a little nervous. His stomach is even cramping and contracting and the bathroom breaks have become more frequent, too. As though he’s actually carrying the egg inside his non-existent womb, and he’s just about to give birth to it.
He’s also become a bit more jumpy than usual. At one point, his nipples have started prickling again, along with an itch that crawled all across his torso, forcing him to mindlessly pull his shirt off and check every inch of his body for any unsightly bumps and discolorations that might alter it in any way.
Satoshi has to reassure him over and over again that he’s gonna be okay. That what he’s read in that pregnancy book he practically gobbled up as a favor for Macchan won’t likely affect him, since this is a different matter all together.
That most of what he’s feeling right now is probably just his mind simulating the ideas he’s formed about being pregnant—
But his hips are really hurting.
There’s a cramp forming in his legs.
He’s sweating like a pig.
He feels bloated, and the painful throb in his head is only matched by the numbing contractions in his gut.
“I’m dying!” he groans, doubling over in agony.
“Stop thinking too much about it, Sakurai-san,” Satoshi calmly advises, before catching Sho’s wincing face in his hands. “Breathe. Just breathe... Fuu-fuu-haaaaa. Fuu-fuu-haaaaa.”
The Allegran’s breathing demonstration makes his face look crumpled and funny that Sho can’t help but burst out in unrestrained, unabashed laughter. “Idiot...” he chortles, his breath coming out in short, delighted gasps as all of his aches literally fade away, as if by magic.
And they’re suddenly just looking into each other’s eyes, while Satoshi’s hands are still pressed, warm and firm, against his cheeks.
And the air is suddenly crackling with currents of undeniable attraction, the sparks of undisguised want shamelessly reflected in their gazes.
Their throats move in tandem as they both gulp down the apprehensive lumps threatening to spoil this moment.
Their breaths even out in unison as their faces slowly move to close the cloying gap between their lips.
And with their pulses racing, eyes fluttering close in full submission to their raw desires, their lips finally meet in a chaste kiss.
Another light press.
A deeper third that lingers longer.
And then a much braver fourth that breaks through every bit of restraint in their minds with lips slightly open in a barefaced flirtation bolstered with a bit of Allegran tongue and the lightest earthling nibble.
Satoshi’s mouth feels warm in a way that’s very familiar, and yet blissfully different. Alien, but surprisingly earthbound at the same time. Sho can’t help wondering if it would be the same with everything else, as his hands sensually brushes up the alien’s sides, tracing the solid contours of the body hidden within the purple suit. Gripping and rubbing wherever he can, the same way that Satoshi is doing to his body: warm and curious Allegran palms feeling him up from his thighs, to his naked torso, all the way up to his neck, back to his unshaven face; rubbing his stubbles with such fond strokes that both tickle and chafe his skin and make his insides curl and sigh into the mind-blowing dominance the docile-looking alien is treating his lips with—
And then his bowels just has to choose this moment to act up, breaking wind in a snappy, rather obtrusive ‘phbt!’ that slices through the magic in the air.
“I just farted!” Sho exclaims after they pull apart. His horrified face flushing up in utter embarrassment, his eyes wide with panic. “Is the egg gonna be okay?!”
Satoshi squishes Sho’s face until Sho’s lips are curled up like a duck’s. “My son is strong. He can handle it,” he says, sneering.
Sho slaps the alien’s shoulder in mock annoyance. And then they’re both wincing and groaning and pinching their noses at the not-so-pleasant afterglow of Sho’s flagrant release.
“Oh, man! That sure claws at your nose, huh?” he says, laughing at his own depravity.
And Satoshi’s soon laughing with him, too. Like it’s the single, most laughable thing that has ever happened to their lives.
But then they abruptly stop, their ears keenly perking up.
And they’re just gazing at each other again with bated breaths. Except that the anticipation that’s gleaming in their eyes right now, is of an entirely different sort.
Then the egg cracks for the second time.
It’s a boy!—
The prospect of parenthood is a truly wonderful thing. At least, that’s what Sho keeps telling himself as he watches Satoshi’s little boy, the one that Sho himself has been warming up for the last seven hours, literally break though his shell, hands and legs pushing and kicking languidly, carefully.
Too carefully that the impatient Sho almost reaches into the basket at one point, to try and help the little guy out.
“No,” Satoshi admonishes him with an authority that sends him cowering back to his knees. “That’s how he’ll learn to use his limbs. Let him do it on his own. He can manage.”
Sho is still not totally sold on the idea, but when Satoshi smiles at him as though the man holds the world in his hands and that there’s absolutely nothing that can ever go wrong with it, all Sho can do is sigh and trust the purple angel that he himself has willingly let into his home.
“You’ve given him enough reasons to want to live outside of his shell, haven’t you?” Satoshi says in a softer, more personal voice, as he grabs and grips Sho’s hand in warm reassurance. “He’s gonna be okay...”
It takes about half an hour for the Allegran baby to finally rid himself of the shell that has once been his world, his home. And the sight of him lying on his side, in a mess of linens and broken eggshells, all curled up and covered in clear goo with slight traces of white gunk and blood, so overwhelms Sho’s heart that if he were to grab the Sherry Mae at this very moment, the device would’ve blasted off through the upper floors, all the way past the roof and off into the stars.
He cups his hands to his mouth, rocks himself back and forth on his knees as he heaves the deepest breaths that do nothing at all to stop his tears from brazenly gushing out.
He barely feels Satoshi grabbing his nape and planting a deep, wet smack on his cheek.
He does vaguely see the man reach into the basket and pick the little boy up, and his heart just melts all over again at the sight of father and son meeting each other for the first time.
But then a painful realization makes Sho’s heart lurch, then constrict from a sudden rush of melancholy, because it’s just become clear to him how much this vision means to him now, and yet he’s not even sure if this vision would actually let him take part in it. Be a part of it.
He sniffles, rubbing his fists to his face.
But Satoshi’s suddenly kneeling in front of him, holding the baby out to him, all bundled up in a blanket. “Hey...”
And he willingly takes the baby into his arms, instantly feeling the familiar rush of fondness and warmth the little guy has been channeling to his nerves throughout the time that they have spent together, connected in the most unusual way. It makes him smile and forget about his previous apprehensions.
Satoshi’s baby is just as beautiful as he is, though pale and rather fragile looking. The mole on the little guy’s chin stands out like a charm. Sho’s almost positive that the mark itself will attract hoards of admirers in the future.
The baby’s eyes that have carefully been rubbed of goo, has just began fluttering open, as though he can hardly wait to see the selfless earthman who has willingly taken over his late mother’s task of keeping him warm, bonding with him, and giving him all the reasons he needed to want to be a part of this world.
Sobs of affection lace Sho’s resulting giggles as their gazes finally meet. His heart surrendering to the eternal devotion he hopes to give to this boy, if his father would just allow it—
Sho taps a finger to the baby’s little button nose, his breath hitching when the baby grabs his finger with both hands and presses it close to his lips, as though sealing their unspoken deal with his own version of a kiss.
Satoshi doesn’t even need to ask the question.
All it takes is a look, and a smile, with a little fluttering in the chest, and they both know that their lives are forever intertwined.
After all, the Sherry Mae maternal instinct meter never lies.
#####
***I don’t own Purple Ohno and Allegra. Nor do I have anything to do with Manabu City, the Gumi-Gumi Belt, the Kirin Mets System, and Sherry Mae.
***Got
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2014-12-06 12:53 pm (UTC)glad that satoshi found sho,
and with nino as the baby they will be a great family! (人´ω`*)♡
well, it's so funny imagining sho got to feel pregnant woman symptoms! that's really suit him! lol
thanks for sharing~ (◠‿◠)
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 12:07 am (UTC)Aaaand Nino and Sho~! I've also kind of developed a penchant for making them father and son. Well, mother and son, in this case, haha~! They do seem like they'll make one great, happy, adorable family, don't they? <3
Thank you very much for reading~! I am really glad you enjoyed it~! ^____^<333
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 04:07 am (UTC)i think you need to write the continuation of this story!
it will be fun to found out the interaction of mother hen sho and spoiled bratty child nino,
and i wonder what will satoshi do when "mommy" and "her" child kinda not in a good term, ٩(*´ `*)۶♡
well i have an image that nino bratty attitude will pissed sho of sometimes in a good way :P
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 05:54 am (UTC)Satoshi getting caught between his 'wife' and son's arguments~! I wonder what he'll do, ne? He'll definitely do something, that's for sure. Hmm, I wonder...
Bratty Little Nino does seem like the type who'll give his Mommy lots of headaches, lol~! But I'm guessing, that's just how he shows his love~! <333
no subject
Date: 2014-12-08 07:13 am (UTC)'cause it's will be great if you can make it! ;)
well someone i follow just posted this kind link so it appeared in my twitter timeline http://funnzoo.net/10-best-sex-positions-for-getting-pregnant?
i don't know if you ever read this before,
but i think i should share it to you,
'cause u have a brilliant brain to turn something like this into interesting story, hmmm,
this fic is one of the examples, lol
no subject
Date: 2015-02-03 09:19 pm (UTC)But that is really one interesting article.
When I looked at the pics, all I saw were Yama, lol~!
I will definitely be keeping this in my folders and wait for inspiration to strike.
Thank you very much for sharing this with me. //hugs// ^____^<333
no subject
Date: 2014-12-06 03:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-06 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-06 09:02 pm (UTC)how will alien Nino grow up on this planet and take to an human parent. so many questions
no subject
Date: 2014-12-06 11:54 pm (UTC)Eeeh~! It'll be interesting to see how Nino will grow up and adopt to a new environment, and his new 'parent'. I'll see what I can do, ne? ^^
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 02:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 04:05 am (UTC)Eeeeeh~! But Sho's human...! Can he lay eggs? Hmmm, I wonder... //chuus
The golden pokeballs belong to the fic you're writing for me, don't they? xDDD
Thank you very much for reading~! ^______^<333
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 04:20 am (UTC)But Satoshi is an alien! So who knows? <3
Yes, yes they do. But the idea of an alien egg struck me! LOLOL and my golden pokebabies were born in a different way. LOLOLOL
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 05:50 am (UTC)Okay, now you've gotten me curious~! How are those pokemen born~? xDDD
Errrm, I already said I'll wait, right? Kulit ko~! Hahaha~!
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 05:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 06:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 06:06 am (UTC)Your perversion is falling for my persuasion~! Hahahaha~! <333
no subject
Date: 2014-12-07 06:10 am (UTC)Naa... it's because I like telling stuff to you... its not persuasion. LOL
no subject
Date: 2014-12-08 07:53 am (UTC)Love you for writing this ^.^ We all need more crack fics in our lives <3
no subject
Date: 2015-02-18 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-27 07:57 am (UTC)please write some more of this, maybe with their bratty kid Nino in it XD or maybe have you? ^^a
thanks for this dear <3 *hugsss
no subject
Date: 2015-03-06 05:34 am (UTC)A sequel is definitely in my to-do list for this year, and yes with bratty Nino doing bratty stuffs XD. Do watch out for it, ne? //hugs// ^___^<333