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(fic) Embarazado
The first of the mpreg fics! Expect two more in the next couple of days. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
maycat55555 wanted pregnant Kougaiji, so I delivered (pun not intended). This was written in a bit of a haste over the past twenty-four hours and given only a cursory edit, so please forgive any errors or just plain lousy writing. Beware of cheesiness. Sigh. I have a more difficult time writing Kougaiji and company than I do writing the Ikkou!
It was late. Doku strolled the halls slowly, changing direction suddenly as he decided to pass by Kougaiji’s room. He expected the hall outside his chambers to be empty at this hour, but as Doku approached Kougaiji’s room, he spotted Yaone slipping out the door. She turned to head in the opposite direction, and he lengthened his stride. “Hey!” he called out to her, and quickened his pace to catch up with her. She froze before slowly turning to meet him.
“Ah,” she said, ducking her head slightly and tugging at the edge of her dress. “Hello, Doku.” He blinked, bemused and slightly puzzled by her obvious discomfort. Her eyes darted anxiously around the hall and she couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at him. He could have sworn she was turning faintly pink. He dipped his own head, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. She tugged at her dress again, biting her lip and clutching at the bag in her right hand. Doku recognized it as the bag containing her medical supplies and felt his amusement slip away. He darted a glance between her and Kougaiji’s closed door. “Is something wrong?” he demanded, resisting her urge to grab hold of her.
Yaone shifted again uncomfortably, still slightly flushed, but she mercifully didn’t pretend to misunderstand his question. Doku knew that she could be trusted implicitly with Kougaiji’s health, but it was unlike her to be so coy about sharing such information with him. “Ah. I think you should speak to Kougaiji-sama yourself,” she finally managed to say. She was stuttering slightly, and that worried Doku too. He had thought she’d lost that habit years ago, sometime after Kougaiji had rescued her and brought her to the castle.
Stepping aside, Yaone tried to slide past him, but he reached out and caught her by the arm, pulling her back. He opened his mouth to say something, to try and persuade her to tell him what was wrong with Kougaiji. But before he could speak she smiled at him faintly, a hint of strain in her face, and patted his hand when it grasped her arm. “Just go see him,” she said, and slipped free. He let her go and listened to her footsteps, quick and light, receding down the hall.
He needed no more encouragement. Doku would have liked to yank open the door to Kougaiji’s bedroom and barge in, but restrained himself enough to knock. There was no response at first, and he tried again. When there still came no command to enter, he called out, “Kou? It’s me.”
There was no immediate response, but after a moment Doku heard, “Come in,” in Kougaiji’s low, quiet tones. He opened the door and let himself in, barely remembering to shut the door carefully behind him in his rush. But he couldn’t afford to be incautious. It was difficult these days to tell who was loyal to Kougaiji and who was in the thrall of his stepmother.
Kougaiji’s room was dim, as he preferred it. Doku found him sitting on the edge of his bed, studying the floor with an expression of tense concentration. He was dressed only in a thin robe, not at all his usual evening wear. That convinced Doku that Yaone must have recently examined him. Doku stepped up to the bed and hovered there uncertainly, unsure whether to take the liberty of sitting next to Kougaiji or to kneel in front of him. Kougaiji never demanded such obeisance from him, but it was often difficult to know whether to treat Kougaiji as his prince or as his lover. Doku finally settled for standing in front of him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His words came out too loud and alarmed. He cleared his throat and forced himself to quiet his voice. “Did Yaone examine you?”
Kougaiji lifted a hand to press against his forehead as if he had a headache and nodded. Doku studied the candlelight flickering off his claws and hair and the shadows mingling with the marks on his face. After a moment, he gave up and sat next to him on the bed. Kougaiji didn’t lean against him, but he didn’t push him away. Doku remained still. After a moment, Kougaiji lowered his hand to his lap and Doku asked, “Is something wrong?”
He didn’t answer right away, and a knot of fear twisted in Doku’s stomach. Kougaiji seemed to be taking his time in formulating his response. “Something’s…different,” he said at last, carefully. Doku blinked in surprise, not expecting the vague answer and not sure how to respond to it.
“Different?” he repeated, his eyes roaming slowly over Kougaiji, looking for anything amiss. He couldn’t see anything physically wrong with him. He thought Kougaiji looked a little pale, maybe, and tired, but he often seemed tired these days. “Different…in a bad way?” he finally asked, baffled by Kougaiji’s refusal to say what was going on. Kougaiji only lifted a shoulder in a slight, indecisive shrug.
Doku felt himself rapidly losing patience with the situation. It was clear to him something was wrong. If everything had been fine, Yaone’s face would have lacked that tightness around her eyes and mouth. If things were fine, Kougaiji wouldn’t have been staring fixedly at the wall, as if it held some sort of answer. “Different…how? What’s different?” he demanded, and as soon as he words were out of his mouth he realized what was wrong. Nii. The son of a bitch had done something again.
Clenching his hand into a fist, Doku stared at the wall too, choosing a different one from Kougaiji. He knew he never should have handed Kougaiji over to that bastard but there hadn’t been any other option. He still couldn’t think of one, in the moments when he tortured himself trying to figure out what else he should have done when Kougaiji was dying in front of him and there was no one around who could help him fast enough except that piece of trash. The gods only knew what he had done to Kougaiji, but Doku had thought that they had undone the damage when Kougaiji had broken whatever mental hold Nii had over him. Apparently, he had screwed with something else, though.
Doku raised a hand and let it hover over Kougaiji’s shoulder, uncertain whether or not he should actually touch him. “What did he do?” he asked quietly. “Can it be fixed?” Kougaiji was still and silent for a long moment, and Doku was not sure he was going at answer at all.
“Yaone had…suggestions,” he finally said, speaking slowly as if he was considering every syllable. Doku stomach unknotted and he relaxed marginally, hopeful that Yaone might be able to offer some assistance. His hands itched helplessly, and he wished he could have done something himself, but he knew nothing of medicine. The only thing he could do was to track Nii down and kill him slowly, but he knew that if killing the bastard had been an option Kougaiji would have done it himself. He drew in a long breath.
“Okay. What can she do?” he asked, forcing himself to sound optimistic. The sense of false hope grated at him, but he knew Kougaiji wouldn’t be helped by hysteria or pessimism.
“She thinks she can…remove it,” Kougaiji said after a brief hesitation, still speaking in that strange slow tone. He stopped staring at the wall, eyes focusing on the empty air in front of him. He still didn’t turn to look at Doku.
“Well, that’s good, right?” Doku asked carefully. There was a catch, he knew. There had to be a catch. It couldn’t be this easy to fix. If it were, Yaone would have taken care of it right away, whatever it was. She and Kougaiji wouldn’t have looked so grim if it could be handled so easily.
“I don’t know,” Kougaiji said, and he sounded so lost, so confused, that Doku stopped hesitating and reached over to squeeze his hand. He would have liked to fix this, but was hampered by his own confusion. He replayed the short conversation in his mind, trying to figure out if there was some innuendo that he was failing to pick up on, and finally gave up.
“I don’t understand,” he told Kougaiji plainly. He half-expected Kougaiji to remain silent and refuse to talk anymore. He intended to go press Yaone for more information, rationalizing that he had spoken to Kougaiji as she had suggested and gotten nowhere. He was more than a little surprised when Kougaiji spoke again.
“I’m,” he lifted one hand off his lap to gesture slowly, vaguely, at his abdomen, “pregnant.”
Doku’s mind stuttered to a stop, the ensuing silence ringing in his ears as he hesitated, unsure that he could have possibly heard correctly. He almost opened his mouth to say, that’s not possible before he remembered Nii and realized that if there was anyone twisted enough to attempt something like that, it was him. And he had had total access to every inch of Kougaiji’s body.
Doku very nearly swore out loud. He stopped himself only by remembering that loud cursing was never the appropriate response to the announcement of pregnancy, even if the pregnancy had been, to put it delicately, unplanned. Swearing or finding Nii and ripping out his intestines, which was his second impulse, was also extremely unhelpful to Kougaiji. He cleared his throat.
“Are you…” he started off uncertainly, then plunged on, “What are you going to do?” Yaone’s option of ‘removing it’ suddenly carried a great deal more weight now that he was able to place it in context and he regretted his own enthusiastic response. Doku realized that he was gripping Kougaiji’s hand far too tightly and let go, drawing his hand back slowly.
“Is it…” he trailed off to rethink his question, clearing his throat awkwardly. He gave up when he decided there was no delicate way to phrase the question. “Whose is it?”
The look Kougaiji gave him was scathing, and Doku found himself comforted by his irritation even as he scrambled to explain himself.
“I mean, depending on how it happened…I was just asking…” Doku forced himself to shut up before he dug the hole any deeper. Kougaiji had stopped glaring at him, but was refusing to look at him again. “Is it mine?” he finally asked.
“Yes.” The certainty is Kougaiji’s voice shocked him slightly, but he found it almost touching.
“Are you sure?” he asked, stupidly. After the words were out of his mouth, he realized that Kougaiji would have been well within his rights to punch him. Though he knew little about the appropriate behavior in this situation, Doku was fairly sure that a father-to-be was not supposed to cast doubts upon the paternity of the child. Kougaiji, though, graciously refrained from socking him.
“Yes,” he repeated.
“Okay,” Doku said, simply because he didn’t know what else to say. The news was gradually beginning to sink in, bringing with it a much-delayed wave of panic and a rush of frantic thoughts and half-formed plans. They’d need things, he realized. Bottles and cribs and diapers. He was fairly sure none of it could be found within the castle, but there had to be someplace they could get it. Yaone could help them with gathering blankets and clothes. He’d have to buy a pack of cigars for the next time they ran into the Sanzo Ikkou, he realized with a rush of amusement. Gojyo was going to be an uncle. Lirin would be an aunt.
Or maybe not. The knot in his stomach suddenly returned with a vengeance. Doku studied Kougaiji’s still, tense face and told himself that Kougaiji didn’t want to go through with it, he would completely understand. It was hard enough for a woman to deal with being pregnant; it had to be even more difficult for a man. And they didn’t even know if it was safe, because Doku was absolutely certain that Kougaiji’s health had been fairly low on Nii’s list of priorities. He swallowed hard.
“I know how to change diapers,” he ventured slowly, after a moment of silence. “I used to be pretty good at it.” He paused and sneaked a look at Kougaiji’s face. Kougaiji’s hands were clenched slightly, but he looked directly at Doku.
“Do you think,” he said slowly, uncertainly, “we could…” He trailed off and gave another indistinct gesture at his stomach.
“Sure,” Doku said. He couldn’t keep himself from grinning, in spite of his anxiety about what Nii and Gyokumen Koushou might do while Kougaiji was like this. “Sure we can. Yaone and Lirin will help, too.”
Kougaiji didn’t say anything, but his shoulders relaxed considerably and he unclenched his hands. Doku reached over and took one again. He considered matters. There were any number of difficulties they would have to deal with, it was true. But, first things first. He wondered where he could get cigars in the middle of the night.
maycat55555 wanted pregnant Kougaiji, so I delivered (pun not intended). This was written in a bit of a haste over the past twenty-four hours and given only a cursory edit, so please forgive any errors or just plain lousy writing. Beware of cheesiness. Sigh. I have a more difficult time writing Kougaiji and company than I do writing the Ikkou!It was late. Doku strolled the halls slowly, changing direction suddenly as he decided to pass by Kougaiji’s room. He expected the hall outside his chambers to be empty at this hour, but as Doku approached Kougaiji’s room, he spotted Yaone slipping out the door. She turned to head in the opposite direction, and he lengthened his stride. “Hey!” he called out to her, and quickened his pace to catch up with her. She froze before slowly turning to meet him.
“Ah,” she said, ducking her head slightly and tugging at the edge of her dress. “Hello, Doku.” He blinked, bemused and slightly puzzled by her obvious discomfort. Her eyes darted anxiously around the hall and she couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at him. He could have sworn she was turning faintly pink. He dipped his own head, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. She tugged at her dress again, biting her lip and clutching at the bag in her right hand. Doku recognized it as the bag containing her medical supplies and felt his amusement slip away. He darted a glance between her and Kougaiji’s closed door. “Is something wrong?” he demanded, resisting her urge to grab hold of her.
Yaone shifted again uncomfortably, still slightly flushed, but she mercifully didn’t pretend to misunderstand his question. Doku knew that she could be trusted implicitly with Kougaiji’s health, but it was unlike her to be so coy about sharing such information with him. “Ah. I think you should speak to Kougaiji-sama yourself,” she finally managed to say. She was stuttering slightly, and that worried Doku too. He had thought she’d lost that habit years ago, sometime after Kougaiji had rescued her and brought her to the castle.
Stepping aside, Yaone tried to slide past him, but he reached out and caught her by the arm, pulling her back. He opened his mouth to say something, to try and persuade her to tell him what was wrong with Kougaiji. But before he could speak she smiled at him faintly, a hint of strain in her face, and patted his hand when it grasped her arm. “Just go see him,” she said, and slipped free. He let her go and listened to her footsteps, quick and light, receding down the hall.
He needed no more encouragement. Doku would have liked to yank open the door to Kougaiji’s bedroom and barge in, but restrained himself enough to knock. There was no response at first, and he tried again. When there still came no command to enter, he called out, “Kou? It’s me.”
There was no immediate response, but after a moment Doku heard, “Come in,” in Kougaiji’s low, quiet tones. He opened the door and let himself in, barely remembering to shut the door carefully behind him in his rush. But he couldn’t afford to be incautious. It was difficult these days to tell who was loyal to Kougaiji and who was in the thrall of his stepmother.
Kougaiji’s room was dim, as he preferred it. Doku found him sitting on the edge of his bed, studying the floor with an expression of tense concentration. He was dressed only in a thin robe, not at all his usual evening wear. That convinced Doku that Yaone must have recently examined him. Doku stepped up to the bed and hovered there uncertainly, unsure whether to take the liberty of sitting next to Kougaiji or to kneel in front of him. Kougaiji never demanded such obeisance from him, but it was often difficult to know whether to treat Kougaiji as his prince or as his lover. Doku finally settled for standing in front of him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His words came out too loud and alarmed. He cleared his throat and forced himself to quiet his voice. “Did Yaone examine you?”
Kougaiji lifted a hand to press against his forehead as if he had a headache and nodded. Doku studied the candlelight flickering off his claws and hair and the shadows mingling with the marks on his face. After a moment, he gave up and sat next to him on the bed. Kougaiji didn’t lean against him, but he didn’t push him away. Doku remained still. After a moment, Kougaiji lowered his hand to his lap and Doku asked, “Is something wrong?”
He didn’t answer right away, and a knot of fear twisted in Doku’s stomach. Kougaiji seemed to be taking his time in formulating his response. “Something’s…different,” he said at last, carefully. Doku blinked in surprise, not expecting the vague answer and not sure how to respond to it.
“Different?” he repeated, his eyes roaming slowly over Kougaiji, looking for anything amiss. He couldn’t see anything physically wrong with him. He thought Kougaiji looked a little pale, maybe, and tired, but he often seemed tired these days. “Different…in a bad way?” he finally asked, baffled by Kougaiji’s refusal to say what was going on. Kougaiji only lifted a shoulder in a slight, indecisive shrug.
Doku felt himself rapidly losing patience with the situation. It was clear to him something was wrong. If everything had been fine, Yaone’s face would have lacked that tightness around her eyes and mouth. If things were fine, Kougaiji wouldn’t have been staring fixedly at the wall, as if it held some sort of answer. “Different…how? What’s different?” he demanded, and as soon as he words were out of his mouth he realized what was wrong. Nii. The son of a bitch had done something again.
Clenching his hand into a fist, Doku stared at the wall too, choosing a different one from Kougaiji. He knew he never should have handed Kougaiji over to that bastard but there hadn’t been any other option. He still couldn’t think of one, in the moments when he tortured himself trying to figure out what else he should have done when Kougaiji was dying in front of him and there was no one around who could help him fast enough except that piece of trash. The gods only knew what he had done to Kougaiji, but Doku had thought that they had undone the damage when Kougaiji had broken whatever mental hold Nii had over him. Apparently, he had screwed with something else, though.
Doku raised a hand and let it hover over Kougaiji’s shoulder, uncertain whether or not he should actually touch him. “What did he do?” he asked quietly. “Can it be fixed?” Kougaiji was still and silent for a long moment, and Doku was not sure he was going at answer at all.
“Yaone had…suggestions,” he finally said, speaking slowly as if he was considering every syllable. Doku stomach unknotted and he relaxed marginally, hopeful that Yaone might be able to offer some assistance. His hands itched helplessly, and he wished he could have done something himself, but he knew nothing of medicine. The only thing he could do was to track Nii down and kill him slowly, but he knew that if killing the bastard had been an option Kougaiji would have done it himself. He drew in a long breath.
“Okay. What can she do?” he asked, forcing himself to sound optimistic. The sense of false hope grated at him, but he knew Kougaiji wouldn’t be helped by hysteria or pessimism.
“She thinks she can…remove it,” Kougaiji said after a brief hesitation, still speaking in that strange slow tone. He stopped staring at the wall, eyes focusing on the empty air in front of him. He still didn’t turn to look at Doku.
“Well, that’s good, right?” Doku asked carefully. There was a catch, he knew. There had to be a catch. It couldn’t be this easy to fix. If it were, Yaone would have taken care of it right away, whatever it was. She and Kougaiji wouldn’t have looked so grim if it could be handled so easily.
“I don’t know,” Kougaiji said, and he sounded so lost, so confused, that Doku stopped hesitating and reached over to squeeze his hand. He would have liked to fix this, but was hampered by his own confusion. He replayed the short conversation in his mind, trying to figure out if there was some innuendo that he was failing to pick up on, and finally gave up.
“I don’t understand,” he told Kougaiji plainly. He half-expected Kougaiji to remain silent and refuse to talk anymore. He intended to go press Yaone for more information, rationalizing that he had spoken to Kougaiji as she had suggested and gotten nowhere. He was more than a little surprised when Kougaiji spoke again.
“I’m,” he lifted one hand off his lap to gesture slowly, vaguely, at his abdomen, “pregnant.”
Doku’s mind stuttered to a stop, the ensuing silence ringing in his ears as he hesitated, unsure that he could have possibly heard correctly. He almost opened his mouth to say, that’s not possible before he remembered Nii and realized that if there was anyone twisted enough to attempt something like that, it was him. And he had had total access to every inch of Kougaiji’s body.
Doku very nearly swore out loud. He stopped himself only by remembering that loud cursing was never the appropriate response to the announcement of pregnancy, even if the pregnancy had been, to put it delicately, unplanned. Swearing or finding Nii and ripping out his intestines, which was his second impulse, was also extremely unhelpful to Kougaiji. He cleared his throat.
“Are you…” he started off uncertainly, then plunged on, “What are you going to do?” Yaone’s option of ‘removing it’ suddenly carried a great deal more weight now that he was able to place it in context and he regretted his own enthusiastic response. Doku realized that he was gripping Kougaiji’s hand far too tightly and let go, drawing his hand back slowly.
“Is it…” he trailed off to rethink his question, clearing his throat awkwardly. He gave up when he decided there was no delicate way to phrase the question. “Whose is it?”
The look Kougaiji gave him was scathing, and Doku found himself comforted by his irritation even as he scrambled to explain himself.
“I mean, depending on how it happened…I was just asking…” Doku forced himself to shut up before he dug the hole any deeper. Kougaiji had stopped glaring at him, but was refusing to look at him again. “Is it mine?” he finally asked.
“Yes.” The certainty is Kougaiji’s voice shocked him slightly, but he found it almost touching.
“Are you sure?” he asked, stupidly. After the words were out of his mouth, he realized that Kougaiji would have been well within his rights to punch him. Though he knew little about the appropriate behavior in this situation, Doku was fairly sure that a father-to-be was not supposed to cast doubts upon the paternity of the child. Kougaiji, though, graciously refrained from socking him.
“Yes,” he repeated.
“Okay,” Doku said, simply because he didn’t know what else to say. The news was gradually beginning to sink in, bringing with it a much-delayed wave of panic and a rush of frantic thoughts and half-formed plans. They’d need things, he realized. Bottles and cribs and diapers. He was fairly sure none of it could be found within the castle, but there had to be someplace they could get it. Yaone could help them with gathering blankets and clothes. He’d have to buy a pack of cigars for the next time they ran into the Sanzo Ikkou, he realized with a rush of amusement. Gojyo was going to be an uncle. Lirin would be an aunt.
Or maybe not. The knot in his stomach suddenly returned with a vengeance. Doku studied Kougaiji’s still, tense face and told himself that Kougaiji didn’t want to go through with it, he would completely understand. It was hard enough for a woman to deal with being pregnant; it had to be even more difficult for a man. And they didn’t even know if it was safe, because Doku was absolutely certain that Kougaiji’s health had been fairly low on Nii’s list of priorities. He swallowed hard.
“I know how to change diapers,” he ventured slowly, after a moment of silence. “I used to be pretty good at it.” He paused and sneaked a look at Kougaiji’s face. Kougaiji’s hands were clenched slightly, but he looked directly at Doku.
“Do you think,” he said slowly, uncertainly, “we could…” He trailed off and gave another indistinct gesture at his stomach.
“Sure,” Doku said. He couldn’t keep himself from grinning, in spite of his anxiety about what Nii and Gyokumen Koushou might do while Kougaiji was like this. “Sure we can. Yaone and Lirin will help, too.”
Kougaiji didn’t say anything, but his shoulders relaxed considerably and he unclenched his hands. Doku reached over and took one again. He considered matters. There were any number of difficulties they would have to deal with, it was true. But, first things first. He wondered where he could get cigars in the middle of the night.