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“I want a baby.” Hikaru sighs wistfully.
Yoshiki chokes on his spit. “What—?”
They’re lazing around at home, Hikaru laying stomach down on his bed, while Yoshiki sits cross-legged beside him and reads manga. As hard as Yoshiki tries, he can not begin to fathom why Hikaru would bring up something like this.
“I just… want to know what it would feel like?” Hikaru whines, fluttering his hands about in the air. He’s looking straight at Yoshiki, as if expecting him to say something useful. Well, Yoshiki’s got nothing.
“Why?” Yoshiki manages to spit out somehow, patting himself on the back for the effort. He’s impressed he can warrant a coherent response to something so ridiculous.
“Why?” Hikaru parrots, brows furrowing in a frown. He rubs his chin as if giving it thought—what’s even there to think about? Yoshiki is afraid to find out. “It just…” Hikaru continues, oblivious to Yoshiki’s bubbling breakdown. “It looks warm, you know?”
No, Yoshiki does not know. Is it normal for a man to want babies because it “looks warm”? He doesn’t think so. But then again, Hikaru is as far from normal as it gets; he’s not even, after all. But this takes the cake for the most questionable conversation they’ve had so far.
“I keep thinking about how warm it felt when you were inside me,” Hikaru continues, his tone sweet and innocent, but his words far too suggestive. “It felt so good. So I was researching—”
“Researching?” Yoshiki sputters. What could Hikaru possibly be researching? And with whom? The thought of Hikaru letting someone else touch him—even if it is just his cold chicken innards—leaves a bitter taste on Yoshiki’s tongue. He frowns, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance. He should tell Hikaru that he should only let Yoshiki touch him; nobody else. Only Yoshiki.
“Yeah,” Hikaru says, waving his hand nonchalantly, as if they’re talking about the math homework they’ve both neglected. “I searched on Yahoo for the best way to feel warm inside, and the top suggestion was to have a child.”
There are so many things wrong with that statement, Yoshiki feels a migraine coming. For starters, nobody even uses Yahoo anymore, Hikaru needs to up his internet game. And it’s probably because he used an outdated search engine like Yahoo that he was suggested baby making over a simpler—and not to mention, faster—measure like using a hot water bottle. Yoshiki startles, suddenly collecting himself as he realises that the biggest problem here is that Hikaru is a man. Men can’t have babies.
“Can you help me?” Hikaru’s suddenly in Yoshiki’s space, scurrying up next to him, face so close that Yoshiki can count his silver lashes and see the crimson specs in his iris. It’s too much; Yoshiki is about to combust any second.
“What?” Yoshiki manages to croak out pathetically. It appears he has been reduced to single syllable communication. That can happen when the monster possessing your best friend asks you to help him conceive.
“Help me make a child, Yoshiki!” Hikaru repeats, this time with even more gusto, eyes sparkling dangerously, smile so wide, his canines peek out. “I’ve been watching videos on human copulation, and it looks like so much fun! I’d love to do it with you, Yoshiki! Please give me a baby!”
Oh yeah, Yoshiki’s going to pass out—no, correction: he’s going to pass away. His jaw drops and he simply stares at Hikaru for a solid minute. The only sound that comes out of his mouth is a wheeze.
“Is that a yes?” Hikaru coos, leaning impossibly closer.
“No!” Yoshiki hisses through his teeth with much effort. “I can’t believe you would ask me that?” Hikaru looks like he’s been slapped, lips curling down immediately, ears drooping like a puppy. Oh no, Yoshiki immediately regrets it. “What I mean is… you’re a guy. Guys can’t… make kids—you can’t get pregnant. So… it’s redundant, yeah?”
For a moment, Hikaru doesn’t say anything. He simply stares at Yoshiki, looking a little annoyed. “How do you know?” He’s pouting and it’s cute and Yoshiki hates how smitten he is, it’s embarrassing. “Maybe I’m different. Maybe I can make it work.”
Suddenly, Yoshiki’s mind flashes with an image of Hikaru, ripe and round with his child, cheeks flushed a soft pink, smiling so bright he can power up a little village. It makes something stir in Yoshiki, something he’s too scared to acknowledge.
“I don’t know,” Yoshiki says softly, curling into himself nervously. “Besides, we’re still in high school. We need to graduate first. Then, get a job and make money and stuff… Having a kid is a big responsibility.”
Yoshiki can feel his own cheeks flaring, embarrassed that he’s taking things so seriously. But a small depraved part of him wonders if it would be so bad to have a child with Hikaru. More than that, he realises he would love to be with Hikaru in every sense of the world. Living together, coming home and reading manga together, eating together, getting an ant farm, growing watermelon, growing old together… Maybe even adopting a child together. That doesn’t seem so bad. Not at all actually.
“Does that mean you’ll do it with me after all those things, Yoshiki?” Hikaru asks, tilting his head to the side as he waits with bated breath.
Yoshiki gulps, scratching his nape with one hand and pulling his book up with the other in an attempt to hide his blush. “Don’t ask me that right now,” he mutters out, grimacing at the way his voice cracks.
“Does that mean I can ask you again sometime in the future?” Hikaru’s voice drips with glee, the warmth emanating from him in waves.
The lines on the page are blurry despite how hard Yoshiki stares at it, dancing around as if taunting him. Even though he doesn’t give a response, he can feel Hikaru smiling through the book in his hand, knowing that Yoshiki’s silence is as good as consent.
And maybe, it is.
Fin