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Risotto blinked his eyes open blearily as the washed-out morning sun hit his face, the worn fabric of his ancient blackout curtains no longer useful in keeping the light out. He huffed a soft sigh and turned his body away from the disturbance, pulling the blankets up under his chin. The even, quiet breathing from beside him caught his focus, and he pressed himself up against the warm body laying next to him, wrapping an arm around the much smaller figure. His unfocused hand traveled down his husband’s torso before finally finding its place and resting at the curve of his belly.
The man next to him shifted, letting out a barely audible whine before snuggling into Risotto’s warmth, both hands coming down to rest on his husband’s.
“G’mornin…” Melone mumbled sleepily, stretching his legs under the covers.
Risotto responded by pressing a kiss into the crook of his spouse’s neck and then burying his face into Melone’s long locks of soft lavender hair.
“We should get up,” Risotto suggested quietly, his voice hesitant. “... I should get up.”
Melone rolled over, one lazy hand pulling his sleep mask up onto his forehead. He gazed at Risotto groggily through one turquoise eye.
“Few more minutes…” Melone yawned and nuzzled into his husband’s chest, his body curled into a tight ball against him.
“I can’t,” responded Risotto quietly, but he didn’t heed his own words; he let the smaller man snuggle into him with a small smile.
“CAPO!” A loud voice bellowed from the other side of the door, and a sharp irritated knock disturbed the room. “HATE TO INTERRUPT, BUT YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE IN THIS DAMN ENTOURAGE THAT CAN PICK UP A COOKING UTENSIL WITHOUT SETTING THE FUCKING BUILDING ON FIRE!”
Melone groaned and looked like he was about to call back before Risotto answered Ghiaccio in a calm voice.
“Just a minute. I need to shower, but I’ll make something in a bit.”
The man outside the door hesitated a second before uttering a much quieter “Great, bring sleepyhead with you so he doesn’t forget to fucking eat,” and thundering back down the hallway toward the lounge.
“Annoying ass.” Melone hissed, not aggressive as much as playful.
Risotto made a move to get up and his husband whimpered, grabbing his arm in a pitiful attempt to drag him back onto the pillow.
“Melone, I have to get up,” Risotto sighed softly, “I don’t want Prosciutto to kill someone trying to fry an egg.”
Melone reluctantly sat up in bed, stretching and yawning. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked up at Risotto with puppy eyes; the jester sighed and offered Melone his hands. Melone took them and Risotto helped him up.
“Why thank you!” Melone giggled. “How gentlemanly.”
Risotto smirked and twirled his husband around as if they were ballroom dancing, the action drawing a laugh from both men. Risotto’s hands wandered down to Melone’s hips, then to his rounded tummy, and he beamed down at his spouse. Melone shot him a huge smile in return, resting his hands over Risotto’s.
“Do you mind if I shower first, sweetheart?”
Risotto shook his head, and Melone pecked his cheek and headed into the bathroom.
————————
“I’ve had the misfortune of being around a lot of pregnant people in my life,” Prosciutto began through a mouthful of toast, “And you are, by far, the most irritating one, Melone.”
The lavender-haired man rolled his eye with a snort, otherwise ignoring his friend in favor of a juicy strawberry.
“He’s kind of right, dude. You’re a huge drama queen,” Formaggio piped up, using his fork to crush his eggs into a pulp instead of eating them. Risotto looked in dismay at the mess on the ginger’s plate.
“Are you going to eat those, or are you just gonna beat them to death?” Illuso elbowed Formaggio in the side, earning a nasty glare from the shorter man. “Anyone wanna make bets?”
Sorbet shrugged, while Gelato vehemently shook his head. “Formaggio would rather die than eat anything healthy,” he quipped.
“HEY!”
Melone sighed and stuffed more fruit into his mouth, ignoring the dirty look Prosciutto was continuing to give him.
“You can’t only eat fruit,” Risotto reminded him softly, brushing his fingers over his husband’s knuckles, “you need a lot of nutrients. Can I get you anything?”
Melone smiled. “I’m okay, thank you Riz.” He traced the wedding band that was fitted on his husband’s ring finger and watched Risotto’s lips quirk up into a half-smile.
Prosciutto gagged and announced his departure from the table with a horrible screeching of chair legs, which made Ghiaccio grit his teeth.
“Hey asshole, why don’t you be a little louder next time!”
“I think I will!” Prosciutto hissed back, pivoting to face Ghiaccio.
Risotto cleared his throat, stopping everyone’s squabbling immediately. “Throwing hissyfits doesn’t help anything.”
Prosciutto rolled his eyes, and the capo focused his stare on the blonde levelly. “Annoying Ghiaccio on purpose will only start fights,” he stated. “Nobody wants that.”
“Except for Prosciutto,” Formaggio chimed in.
“Except for Prosciutto!” Illuso echoed with a laugh.
Pesci glanced between his older brother and Risotto nervously, blinking gratefully when Melone gave him a sympathetic look.
Prosciutto bristled and Risotto leaned back in his chair, looking at him calmly. “Formaggio, you aren’t any better.”
The man in question just barked out a laugh.
“Let’s stop fighting and finish breakfast?” Pesci suggested nervously, and was met with a nod from Risotto.
“Pesci, Pesci, no one was fighting. It’s just teasing getting out of hand,” Prosciutto soothed, switching modes immediately as he sat back down.
“I’m going back upstairs,” Melone announced with a stretch, “I need a nice, long nap.”
“You JUST got up!” Ghiaccio stared at him in disbelief.
“There’s a human growing inside of me, Ghiaccio! I’m tired.”
Formaggio looked at him. “See? Prosciutto and I had a point, dude! You’re four months pregnant, and you act like you’re terminally ill!”
Melone narrowed his remaining eye and stood up, taking care that his chair didn’t screech. “Last time I checked, none of you have been pregnant. I guess that’s why you’re so weird about it.”
“But-“
“Did you know that if you don’t provide it enough calcium, a fetus will start stealing calcium from your bones?”
The table of men just looked at Melone, and eventually Prosciutto shook his head.
“Or that I’ve been getting up to vomit at, like, sunrise? Almost every day?”
There was a silence.
“... Sorry, Melone. Guess I wasn’t thinking.” Formaggio muttered, and Prosciutto nodded in agreement. “It’s kind of a big deal.”
“Yeah.” Melone blinked, and set off upstairs.
“... Capo-“
“You guys ought to be a little kinder,” Risotto interjected with a shake of his head. “Even when you’re teasing… He hasn’t been feeling that great.”
Prosciutto looked guilty.
“I apologize, capo.”
“No, don’t apologize to me. If anyone needs it, it’s Melone. Be a little nicer to him for a while, okay?” Risotto’s voice was soft instead of scolding. “It’s a flood of hormones and other unsavory stuff.”
“... Well… Why’d you choose to have a kid?” Ghiaccio cocked his head.
“We’re ready to start a family.”
“Why Melone and not you? Couldn’t you have done it?” Illuso asked curiously.
Risotto huffed a laugh. “No, I don’t think I could’ve. My dysphoria would never let that happen.” He stood up, fixing his chair and grabbing a few empty plates from the table. “Melone wants kids, and he wants to carry them. I’m happy with however he wants to do it.” The jester rinsed the debris off the dishes and then popped them in the dishwasher, rubbing his hands dry with a towel. “Even if I can’t physically sire our baby, I can’t wait to be a father.”
Risotto closed the dishwasher, grabbed his cup of coffee and headed upstairs, smiling to himself.
“... Is it just me, or was that the most capo has ever talked at once?” Formaggio asked.
—————————-
“Mel?”
The lithe assassin looked up from his laptop with a start, leaning back in his chair. He cocked his head, then smiled brightly at the sight of his husband.
“Weren’t you going to sleep?” Risotto’s shoes clicked on the floor as he walked up behind Melone, resting his hands on his shoulders. He pressed his fingers into the tight knots of muscle in an attempt to loosen it up.
“Nnh… It’s too cold without you.” Melone wiggled and relaxed as Risotto worked on his shoulders, massaging his sore flesh.
“You need your sleep, Mel.” The capo’s voice was gentle, inviting, and Melone melted beneath his hands. “I can’t nap with you, I-“
“Once won’t hurt,” Melone interrupted, gazing up at his husband with one glittering teal eye. “Please? Sweetheart?”
Risotto let out a warm sigh, not taking his eyes off of Melone’s face. “Just this once.”
“Thank you.” Melone’s eye shone, and he hopped up, pulling Risotto into a hug and nuzzling into his chest. His husband wrapped one arm around him and used the other to stroke his silky lavender hair. When Melone moved away, he smiled up at Risotto before trotting eagerly to their bed and flopping down onto it with a quiet ‘pomf!’
Risotto laid down and Melone immediately latched onto him like a cat, twisting his body around his husband to keep him on the bed. The capo squeezed Melone to his chest with a soft laugh.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m staying.”
Melone untangled his lithe body from Risotto’s to lay on top of him instead, his rounded belly soft against his husband’s toned stomach. The jester’s breath hitched and he rested a hand on the small of Melone’s back.
“Mel?”
The younger man blinked. “Mm?”
Risotto pressed a kiss into the crook of his husband’s neck. “...I love you.”
Melone sighed, propping himself up for a moment to gaze into the capo’s face. “I love you too.” He leaned in to capture his husband’s lips in a soft kiss, and when he reluctantly pulled away, his cheeks were dusted with the hints of a pink blush.
He balanced on Risotto’s thighs for a second before a mischievous grin appeared on the capo’s face.
“C’mere, you!”
Melone laughed as Risotto grabbed him and twisted so that he was curled around his husband protectively. Warmth radiated off of the jester in waves and Melone wiggled as close as he could, snuggling into Risotto’s heat.
“Riz… You’ll be a really good dad,” Melone whispered lovingly as he drifted into sleep.