Sid came over for dinner a few nights later with an unanticipated bouquet of pink roses and hovered by the kitchen island while Zhenya put the flowers in water. Zhenya’s heart pounded in his chest. Flowers were a clutching gift; pink flowers— “Geno, uh,” Sid said, and Zhenya’s hands trembled slightly as he fussed with the blossoms. “I know it’s way too soon, but. Do you want to?”

"I'm ready," Sid breathed out. Behind him, Geno gave a soft chuckle, and then leaned down to nuzzle at his neck. "You think you ready."

You’ve got all this new equipment, bud," Sid said. "I need to figure out what I’m doing.” Sid’s curiosity was a horrible opponent. It had gotten them in this mess; had Sid not looked at Zhenya all those years ago with undisguised lust and said I’ve never kissed a guy, but…, then they would never have arrived in this tense standoff. Sid looked at Zhenya’s slit like he wanted to touch it, and Zhenya did not trust himself to stop that from happening.

The blankets had pooled around Geno’s waist where he had propped himself up to look at Sid. His pale chest and the remnants of his marks from many months ago were visible under the warm glow of the lamp. They had mostly faded, but Sid could have sworn he was still able to make out the faint outline of rings--some the size of dinner plates--clinging possessively to Geno’s skin.

Smut ficlets, mostly Mpreg related, but knowing me it will likely spiral.

Sid cradled the weighty feeling of his abdomen in his hand. It wasn’t round yet, he could just feel the developing firmness under his belly button, but it would get there, and soon. Sid knew it would. Geno had triggered something in him and there was no undoing it. Sid would have to ride this wave out.