Archive of Our Own

One line. 

One solitary line, not the identical pair that Yunho was hoping, praying, for. 

“Yunho?” It’s cruel how much a silly little piece of plastic can dictate a person’s feelings. “Baby, is everything okay?”

At least, ‘cruel’ is the word Yunho uses—how cruel it is that this stupid little stick seems capable of ripping his heart right out of his chest and stabbing it with a dagger—as he breaks it in half in contempt and all but throws it into the bin. In his anger, his elbow knocks the glass toothbrush holder from the edge of the sink, and he lets out a hiss as one of the resulting shards slices his ankle.

That’s cue enough for his husband on the other side of the door, and Yunho’s bending down to stem the bleeding with his towel just as Hongjoong manages to pick the lock and fling open the door to discover the sight before him; Yunho’s glassy eyes, the quickly reddening tip of his nose indicating the onset of tears, the way he nibbles his lip to hold back said tears as he presses the towel to his ankle. “Oh, baby…”

Yunho knows why Hongjoong says those words, and he doesn’t know what hurts more—the metaphorical dagger that clearly wasn’t satisfied with his heart alone, or the fact that Hongjoong knows exactly why he’s on the verge of tears.

The correct answer is irrelevant, however, as Hongjoong addresses both answers in the way he uses one hand to bring Yunho’s head down to rest against his shoulder. The other gently comes to envelop Yunho’s hand that continues to press the towel to his bloodied ankle. Yunho lasts five seconds—ten, at most—before the first whimper breaks through the dam and his tears follow suit. The towel is quickly forgotten in favour of clutching onto Hongjoong, for fear he might slip away, and Yunho is quickly losing his grip on his self-control as his breathing quickens, his tears begin to fall, and his body is engulfed in grief-stricken tremors as the truth of the matter hits him—and hits him hard.

Hongjoong swears he can feel his heart break again and again with each sob that wracks Yunho’s body. His grip tightens slightly on the towel, earning a pained wince from Yunho as he flinches in reflex, and so Hongjoong soothes him with a peck to his temple.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he checks the wound, loosens the pressure of the towel as the bleeding has stopped, carefully readjusts his hold on Yunho to bring him closer into his embrace. “Please talk to me…” Hongjoong’s patience is endless as he sits with his husband, slowly rocking him back and forth as he combs his fingers through his hair, numb to the growing wet patch on his shoulder from Yunho’s tears until the taller calms down enough that his sobs grow quieter, and then cease altogether to be replaced by gentle sniffles.

“I’m broken,” Yunho’s voice sounds weak, almost hollow, eyelids heavy with the consequence of his tears and face puffy to accompany as he gently nuzzles against the smaller. It’s a bittersweet sight for Hongjoong; while he adores these times when Yunho is clingy and cuddly, he hates nothing more than clingy and cuddly Yunho for reasons of despair. “I’m broken, I can’t do it.”

“You’re not broken, Yunho,” Hongjoong soothes. He doesn’t think there’s much more he can say or do—Yunho will only allow so much coddling—but he does press his lips to his temple in another kiss and tucks his head to rest under his chin before continuing. “It just… it just wasn’t our time, this time.”

“It wasn’t our time last time either,” Yunho quips, words punctuated with sniffles muffled by Hongjoong’s shirt, “or the first time. This is our third round, Joong, it’s not going to work.” He sits upright, wiping his nose with the palm of his hand before looking down at his lap, fingers playing with the hem of his jumper. “I can’t carry a baby, I’m infertile.”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “You’re not infertile, Yunho, because they wouldn’t have let us try if you were,” he tries not to jostle Yunho too much as he adjusts his hold on him, repositions the taller to sit more comfortably on his lap while he reaches for their first aid kit—stashed under the sink for this exact purpose—to tend to Yunho’s ankle, “and they test us both every time; they certainly wouldn’t let us try more than once if we weren’t fertile, and they did—”

“Then why hasn’t it worked?”

“—and they did tell us all of the statistics about this, baby,” Hongjoong continues, “but they wouldn’t have let us try at all if you weren’t fertile.”

There is some logic to his words, Yunho won’t deny this—that before each new round of IVF treatment, both he and Hongjoong are tested for their fertility levels to estimate the success rate and the best date for the embryo transfer—but this most recent round is their third attempt in four years. Each time, they go through the same process of egg retrievals, fertilisations, developments, transfers, and then… 

Nothing. The embryo didn’t stick the first time. It had stuck the second time, and Yunho had been hopeful.

He’d been naive, he’d let himself dream—he’d excitedly imagined waking up to snuffles and coos from their pup while Hongjoong would snuggle closer to him to steal another five minutes of sleep before they would begin a new day of parenthood; he’d embraced the morning sickness, the cravings, the aches and pains of pregnancy; he’d picked out paint samples and inspiration for the nursery, promising to drag Hongjoong out to the paint shop once he was in his second trimester.

For those eleven precious weeks that he’d carried their long desired pup, Yunho had been a fool and hoped.

The night before the twelfth week, Hongjoong had awoken to the sound of the shower running, barely containing the sounds of Yunho wailing and nursing his broken heart, scarlet pooling around him and washing down the drain, drowning his shattered dreams. His baby, the picture of health just three weeks earlier at their first scan, becoming a thing of the past. Yunho had watched in growing despair as the water pooling at his feet had at first been clear, then tinged pink, and now red as blood. Then came the cramping, bringing Yunho to his knees and curling into the foetal position in desperate relief, the truth being hammered home more and more with each passing stab of pain and harrowing cry of Hongjoong’s name.

But nothing, not even foresight, could have prepared Yunho for the fact that he physically felt his baby pass from his body.

Nothing could have prepared Yunho for the faintest little sound of something warm, something tiny, something solid, hitting the cool tile of the shower base; for the shake of Hongjoong’s voice as he whimpered a weak Yunho and crawled into the shower next to him, gingerly skirting around something before settling next to him and pulling him close; for the sight that horrified Yunho when he carefully sat up and saw their eleven week old baby, barely half the length of Yunho’s finger, growing cold from the tile on which it lay. Almost five centimetres long. Fingers and toes just starting to separate, and Yunho had let out a sob at how the foetus appeared to have one tiny hand tucked up under its chin—a habit Hongjoong displays when sleeping on his side, the other hand usually shoved beneath his pillow—before turning to face the wall he leant against, unable to take another heartbreak.

Yunho had been pregnant for eleven weeks and six days.

And now, eighteen months—seventy-eight weeks—later, Yunho’s heart tastes cold steel once more from a silly little piece of plastic dipped in urine. And so he utters his decision; “No more.”

“Hm?”

“No more,” Yunho repeats, eyes red and puffy from crying as he pulls away from the wet patch on Hongjoong’s shoulder, “I can’t take another failed round, Joong, I won’t. I’m done. No more.”

Hongjoong doesn’t argue. He’s sensible like that, always putting Yunho before himself, always setting himself up to be last in consideration. So when he simply nods, mute, and tucks Yunho’s head beneath his chin once more, Yunho fights every urge in his body that tells him to lash out and make Hongjoong choose himself, voice his thoughts, put his fucking foot down. 

Just once. That’s all Yunho asks. Just once, he wants Hongjoong to oppose him and stand his ground, on those rare matters where their minds may differ. Just once, in this moment, Yunho wants Hongjoong to tell him not to give up. He can see it in the other’s eyes—shining behind tears, hurting in other ways than just the one at hand—that he doesn’t want him to give up. 

But for now, he’s too tired to beg. For now, he shuts his mouth. He shuts his brain.

~❈~

Weeks have passed. They haven’t talked about it since.

They’re minding Hongjoong’s nephew Soojin for the weekend, the sweetest little two-and-a-half-year-old soul Yunho’s ever known. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a more dramatic response to anything in his life than when Hongjoong had texted him earlier that week to ask if he’d be happy to babysit:

“Kim Hongjoong, you better be asking me because you’ve already accepted. Of course I want to babysit my favourite nephew-in-law!”

One thing that Yunho adores about Soojin is how he looks just like a mini Hongjoong—right down to how he manages to twist his little body around in a half-circle like a cat whenever he’s bored, and the cute little expression he adopts when he makes a mistake. Every time he sees Hongjoong playing with Soojin, Yunho’s heart melts a little more—and he will swear by this until the day he dies—because it honestly looks like Hongjoong has gone back in time to play with his baby self.

This particular weekend, Yunho keeps Soojin entertained until Hongjoong is finished in the kitchen; he’s making sandwiches for lunch, since Yunho has barred him from using basically any kitchen utensils, and his oven ban is still in effect for another six months.

“When can I see Baby?”

Soojin’s sitting on top of Yunho, driving a toy Ferrari up and down his torso while Yunho reads his book. The question startles Yunho into losing his place on the page as he looks down at his nephew, only to be met with curious eyes of melted chocolate and childish innocence.

He doesn’t know that Yunho isn’t pregnant anymore, and hasn’t been for a long time, but he does know that his uncles want a baby and are waiting for one. He’s far too young to know about the birds and the bees, let alone the intricacies of IVF, but it’s clear he knows that Yunho’s belly should start getting bigger at some point.

And now Yunho has to explain why that’s not happening anymore.

“My baby… went away, sweetheart.” Yunho breaks the news gently, sitting up as Soojin tilts his head in confusion.

“Where’d it go?”

“Somewhere safe, love, they’re alright.” Yunho assures. “Do you want me to tell you their story?” 

That earns him an eager nod from Soojin, Ferrari now lying abandoned on the edge of the couch cushion as he gets comfortable on Yunho’s lap. Yunho waits until he’s ready, head nuzzled in the crook of his neck and eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Do you remember when you got that scrape on your knee?” A nod. “And I told you to squeeze my hand really, really tight whenever it hurt while I cleaned it?”

Soojin’s affirming hum is immediate, and he curls in closer, captured by the story.

As Yunho continues, he feels his voice grow calm, steady, but holding a quiet tremble underneath as he remembers why he’s bringing up this memory in the first place. “A baby… has to hold onto their Appa and Eomma like that too, when they start growing, until they’re big enough to let go. Really, really tight—”

“Like a hug?”

“Yes, sweetheart, like the big hugs that you give me and Hongjoong Samchon,” Yunho can’t help the small laugh that leaves his mouth at the innocent comparison the toddler makes, “a baby has to give their Eomma and Appa a big hug and hold on tight, but… sometimes, when we try really hard to hold on, we get tired, don’t we?”

“Mm…”

“My baby got tired, sweetheart. They held on as tight as they could, but got too tired… so now it’s sleeping.” Yunho pauses here, and it stretches just long enough for Yunho to notice Soojin’s nod of understanding, as if he’s imagining how heavy and tired his own little arms get from hugging for too long.

“So,” Soojin’s voice is quiet, punctuated by a little yawn as he teeters on the verge of sleep, “Baby’s having a nap?”

Yunho waits a beat too long before he responds, “Yes, sweetheart. The baby’s having a nap. A very long nap.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Even though he’s mostly talking to himself by this point, as Soojin’s begun to fall asleep, it takes all of Yunho’s strength to keep his voice barely above a whisper now, his words overflowing with the kind of love that breaks and builds at the same time. “Yes, I think so, love, I think they’re okay, and I like to think that… the baby is dreaming about something very beautiful.”

Soojin had been nodding off, soothed by the gentle tones of Yunho’s voice, and it’s quiet as Yunho sits in his thoughts, imagining his baby, gently rocking back and forth to lull Soojin to sleep, when the boy startles in his arms all of a sudden, eyes wide and scared.

“No go away,” Soojin shakes his head, clinging tighter to Yunho, letting out a small whimper of fear. “No go away…”

“You don’t want to go away?” Yunho asks. Soojin nods in confirmation, whimpering again and standing up in Yunho’s lap to hug him tight around his neck. “Oh, baby, no. You won’t go away, I won’t let you. I’ll hold you as tight as I can, okay?”

Soojin shakes his head, head now hidden in Yunho’s shoulder. “Can’t hold on.” 

That does it. That’s what breaks Yunho’s heart. 

He shakes his head, nuzzles Soojin’s hair lovingly and presses a gentle kiss to the side of his head, before leaning back enough to look him in the eyes. That darling little face before him, eyes close to tears and looking up at him with so much trust and fear in them that Yunho has to place another kiss, this time on his forehead, in reassurance.

“You don’t have to worry about holding on, sweetheart.” Brushing his thumb over Soojin’s cheek, Yunho cups his face. “You’re big enough now that your Eomma and Appa can protect you.”

“What ‘bout Samchon?”

“Hongjoong Samchon and I can protect you too. You’re here, baby, you’re here to stay. I promise.”

He nods to himself with that last sentence, and can’t help but smile when Soojin sits back down in his lap, curling up once more as he snuggles into the hug Yunho offers, one little hand clutching at the collar of Yunho’s flannel as if to promise that he’ll hold on anyway.

~❈~

“You explained it to him really well.”

Hongjoong’s sitting in the living room with Yunho, Soojin tucked up in their bed for a nap after their lovely lunch of sandwiches,  some superhero movie playing on the TV that neither of them are really watching. Yunho’s leaning back against him, Hongjoong’s chin resting on his shoulder, his fingers intertwined with Yunho’s and resting on his chest, thumb stroking over Yunho’s knuckles in a small, soothing gesture, a gentle kiss planted to Yunho’s temple every ten minutes or so.

From his hiding place in the kitchen doorway earlier on, Hongjoong had wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie whilst eavesdropping, and returned to his sandwich-making afterwards. He couldn’t help overhearing Soojin’s question about meeting the baby, and he’d almost prematurely announced that lunch was ready when he’d heard Yunho mumble an answer, and so had carried on with his task.

“You heard me?” Yunho mumbles now, head turning to look at Hongjoong in his peripheral vision. Hongjoong nods, and Yunho shifts slightly in his arms to look at him a bit better. “I just… I know he’s only two but he deserved to know in some way.”

“And you did it beautifully,” Hongjoong adds, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Yunho’s as his eyes flutter shut, a shaky sigh leaving his lips and smiling when Yunho rubs their noses together. “I love watching you with him… you’re a natural with kids.”

Even though he knows Hongjoong’s eyes are still closed, Yunho gives a pained smile at his last comment. “Then why don’t we have our own?”

Hongjoong can hear Yunho holding back his tears, and he can feel his own building behind his eyes as he presses his forehead firmer against Yunho’s, cupping his cheek in his palm to keep him there. “We can always try again, baby–”

“No.” Yunho pulls away, voice shaking, tears falling as he straightens up, trying to leave. “No, don’t do this—”

“Yunho, please,” Hongjoong pleads, standing as well and reaching for Yunho’s wrist. “Baby—”

“Stop calling me that!” Yunho snaps, whirling back around and snatching his wrist out of reach, to Hongjoong’s shock. “Stop calling me the one damn thing we both want, it hurts! It hurts that we don’t have a baby, that you say I’m a natural with kids, that we’re always able and eager to babysit because we don’t have our own!” 

“Then why give up now?” Hongjoong counters, just as hurt at Yunho’s words as Yunho is at his. “We still have an embryo left, Yunho, just one more - are you just going to let it go to waste? What if this last one is our baby, Yunho? What if the next round we could try is the one that sticks?” He steps forward quickly, not giving Yunho the chance to walk away, grabs his wrist and holds his hand tight. “All I’m asking is for one last try, Yunho. One more time. If it works, we’ll have a baby to love. And if it doesn’t, I’ll never ask it of you again. I promise.” He pleads, kissing Yunho’s hand now to prove the sincerity of his words. He’s never been more sincere in his life, not even in the most beautiful moments of his relationship with Yunho; never has he spoken with more conviction in his words than he is at this moment, asking one final chance at a family of their own.

Their childless marriage doesn’t just hurt Yunho, it hurts Hongjoong as well. Whenever they babysit Soojin, or they’re on a walk through the park and Yunho stops to help a lost kid, comforting them with a natural paternal instinct, or Hongjoong catches Yunho’s gaze lingering on a baby clothing store when they’re out shopping together; every instance that reminds Hongjoong of their struggle kills a tiny piece of him inside, because he can’t give Yunho the one thing he knows he wants more than anything else in life. If he’d presented as an alpha, they’d have their pups, Yunho would be happy, and Hongjoong would never have known the pain they’ve become well acquainted with over the last four years.

But life has a way of making you suffer first, and Hongjoong’s not quite ready to give up yet. Not when they have one more chance.

Yunho’s been quiet this entire time, contemplating, tears streaking his cheeks in an endless river of pain as his hand trembles in Hongjoong’s grasp. Hongjoong presses another tender kiss to his knuckles, cradling his hand like it were that of a god, and gently pulls Yunho in for a hug. From how badly he shakes in his arms, Hongjoong can’t help but envy Yunho’s control on his emotions, as easily shown now as they are.

Such decorum, such restraint—built upon days, weeks, months, years of pain, gone in the blink of an eye—and Hongjoong only wishes that Yunho had obtained it by any other means than their heartbreak.

“I can’t… take… another loss, Joong,” Yunho whimpers, head dropping to press into his shoulder, “I-I don’t think I can…”

“I know, love,” Hongjoong whispers, reaching up to comb his fingers through Yunho’s hair, soothing and calming, swaying them back and forth, “but we’ll never know what could have been if we don’t take the steps to get there. We need to at least take this last chance. Just one more time, I promise, and we’ll know.” he leans back a bit to see Yunho’s eyes, the tears that frame the pain he finds in them breaking his heart further, and he wipes away a falling tear with his thumb, ignoring the one that escapes his own eye.

He sees Yunho’s lips move, but the words escape him. “Hm? What’s that, Yu?”

“I want to use it,” Yunho repeats, angles his head down to nuzzle Hongjoong’s palm, “our very last embryo, and if we lose them that one—”

“—then we find an alternative method to grow our family, and close this painful chapter of our lives.” Hongjoong finishes, tone indicative that he won’t entertain any other answer. “I will give you a family, Yu, I swear it. But for now… just one more shot, okay?” He brings his other hand to Yunho’s face, cupping it, and brings his lips to his forehead in a gentle kiss, another to his lips.

And several more then follow as Yunho pulls him closer, if only to brace for the ache of another oncoming pain with the balm of his husband’s love to soothe it in advance.

~❈~

“Mr and Mr Kim?”

Yunho can’t help the slight smile that grows on his face at the reminder of his name; he’d taken Hongjoong’s name, always imagined writing it on their children’s birth certificates, had been happiest when his official documents came through and officially stated his own name to be Kim Yunho, husband of Kim Hongjoong.

Every reminder of that joy makes him smile, no matter how sad his mood at the time.

He stands now with Hongjoong, hands locked tight together, and sitting in the waiting room of their fertility clinic. Yunho can’t remember the last time he’d given something as much thought as he’d given Hongjoong’s pleas for a fourth attempt—their final attempt, he was promised—to conceive. Indeed, it’s asking Yunho to relive his greatest pain once again, an especially personal pain, because it’s not just a medical procedure, not to Yunho.

To Yunho, it’s a lethal injection of hope into his body, into his very heart - one consisting of years of yearning, of his body weight in tears, of the sorrows of their previous losses and dashed dreams. It’s asking him to spear himself on a pike, one embodying the fact that his baseline biological purpose has already failed him thrice before, and still come out of it with his head held high as if his world hadn’t been shattered to pieces before him yet again.

“—nho?” Soft mutterings and a gentle tug on his arm bring Yunho’s attention back to the clinic. Hongjoong’s watching him, eyes holding both sympathy and encouragement, and he now smiles when Yunho’s eyes regain clarity and lock their gaze upon him, before tugging gently once more, lacing their fingers together, and the pair of them follow the nurse that had called them into the consultation room. They sit in the chairs turned to the empty desk in front of them, and the nurse informs them that the doctor will be with them shortly before leaving them alone in the room. Hongjoong squeezes his hand three times, I love you, and presses a tender kiss to his cheek. “I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m always here, okay?”

Yunho nods, strength leaving him briefly as he leans on his husband. Hongjoong lets him, brings his head to rest on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around him, holding him closer and nuzzling against Yunho’s neck as he knows the gesture to be calming for him. He feels Yunho’s body shake as he takes deep breaths, trying to stay calm and not let his nerves get the better of him, and so Hongjoong strokes his thumb over Yunho’s knuckles, both of them squeezing their little code every now and then to reassure the other. This goes on for another five minutes before the door opens, and their doctor and trusted friend, Choi Jongho, steps into the room and proceeds to take his seat at his desk.

“Sorry for the wait,” Jongho’s voice is quiet as always, calm, but stoic with professionalism, accompanied by his usual gentle smile as he opens their file. Yunho nods in acknowledgement, head still resting on Hongjoong’s shoulder, and feels another coded squeeze of his hand from his husband. “I know you both know the order of everything well enough by now, but it is procedure that we have this consultation before we go ahead with everything,” Jongho adds, as this now his fourth IVF cycle with this particular couple, “but can I assume that we’re not changing any details?”

Yunho nods, already bracing himself to speak, only to frown as he feels Hongjoong’s shoulder tensing up beneath his cheek.

“Actually..,” Hongjoong mumbles, nervous, thumb brushing over Yunho’s knuckles more to calm himself than his husband, “I want to be the carrier this time.”

What?

Yunho doesn’t believe it. He sits upright, face scanning Hongjoong’s, searching for any indicator that this is a joke, a trick of some sort, only to find that Hongjoong is deathly serious. He might be tense, but his eyes have only been this determined one other time before; their wedding day, promising to love and cherish Yunho, until death do them apart.

Hongjoong is not a man to joke about emotion, Yunho knows this, but a part of him is desperately hoping that Hongjoong is joking now. He’s seen first-hand the damage their losses have done to Yunho, he’s always been the first to voice how he would rather be the carer than the carrier, he’s always painted the picture of Yunho being pregnant and him talking to the growing bump that would house their pup. Hongjoong has never, ever, entertained the thought of being pregnant.

Hongjoong’s gaze turns nervous the longer Yunho tries to figure him out, his fingers lacing and unlacing together with Yunho’s as he musters up the courage to explain his sudden request. “I-I want to carry this time…”

Yunho doesn’t even know where to start with the literal dozens of questions flooding his mind to try and understand this. “Hongjoong—” 

“This is our last time, Yu,” Hongjoong cups Yunho’s face now, holding his hands no longer enough of an anchor, “and I will never forgive myself if this doesn’t work out and you have to go through another loss. Let me carry this one, our last one, I beg you. If this isn’t our chance, then let me lessen the pain somehow.”

“You…” Yunho licks his lips, suddenly drier than the Sahara, before continuing, “Hongjoong, I can’t…you know how I—”

“Which is why this time will be me,” Hongjoong nods, “rather than you. I know I convinced you to give this one last try, so let me be the one to feel that pain if this isn’t the path for us. Please, Yunho.”

How can Yunho say no to this? It won’t hurt any less if they lose this embryo—their last embryo—even if Yunho isn’t the one carrying this time around, but it will mean that Hongjoong will know exactly how Yunho’s heart hurts after three of these heartbreaks. It will mean that they can truly be strong for each other against any other hardships coming their way, and if their family never extends beyond the two of them? Yunho is…surprisingly okay with that possibility.

So, with one last shaking breath, Yunho leans forward to press a kiss to Hongjoong’s forehead, his hands coming up to hold Hongjoong’s as he nods, feels Hongjoong’s sigh of relief, and can’t quite hold back the quiet giggle he lets out at the barrage of kisses that come his way with his next words.

“Then let’s do it. One last time, let’s fucking do it.”

~❈~

“Come on, get up.”

“Where are we going?”

“Date night. Our last one before the transfer, come on. I’ve made it really special,” Hongjoong smiles, knowing he’s just gone and planted seeds of suspicion in Yunho’s mind. Hongjoong doesn’t plan their date nights, not unless they’re content to stay home, cuddle, and fuck—to put it bluntly. 

Hongjoong is better with at-home sweetness; Yunho adores being over-the-top with romantic dates, waxing lyrical about all the reasons he loves his mate, and seeing God courtesy of said mate. It’s always been this way for them, ever since their very first, disastrous, date that Hongjoong had planned all the way back in college. 

"Come onnnnn," he gives another gentle tug, forces Yunho to sit up and the sheets to pool in his lap—how Yunho enjoys sleeping shirtless, Hongjoong will never understand—as Hongjoong plants sweet kisses along his jaw, "you know you want to; I can practically see that tail of yours going mad under there."

Still fighting the urge to go back to sleep, Yunho pouts at the call-out. He can't help it, he wants to know how well Hongjoong has planned this date.

Hopefully, he can salvage what's left of it when it inevitably turns into a shitshow, and turn it around for them. Alternatively, he can lovingly rub it in Hongjoong's face that this is exactly why date nights are Yunho's responsibility.

It's that last thought that makes Yunho smile and relinquish the cosy, comfy warmth of their bed. "Fine. But if you give me food poisoning, you're sleeping on the couch for a month."

Having anticipated the couch-bed threat, Hongjoong clearly thought to leave the cooking to more skilled chefs—phase one of the date happens to be a stroll down to Yunho's favourite street market, residing just around the corner from their flat, one side of it lined with stalls selling all of Yunho's favourite street foods, the other with stalls of all kinds of little trinkets and cute accessories that Hongjoong knows Yunho loves.

Suddenly feeling a hand at his forehead he can't help the laugh that bubbles out of his throat; Yunho's clearly in search of a fever because—

"I can have as much as I want?" Yunho echoes Hongjoong's surprise announcement. "Baby, are you feeling okay? We can't do the transfer if you're sick—"

"I'm not sick," another giggle leaves his lips as Yunho blinks, still in disbelief, "I just want to spoil you, more than usual."

"'More than usual'? You realise you'd be declaring bankruptcy before reaching that level?"

"Worth it if it means you know just how much I love you."

It takes a few more reassurances, but Yunho soon caves. As he borderline raids each and every stall for at least two of each of his favourite foods, Hongjoong keeps tabs on how big the hit to his bank account will be by the end of the night; Yunho is more worried about tomorrow's embryo transfer than he is, stress eating to cope, and Hongjoong really, really, hopes that his newly obtained rounded cheeks don't go away anytime soon—

"Baby, try this!" Long fingers shove a little ssam parcel into his mouth before Hongjoong can blink, flavours exploding over his tongue as he bites into the little stuffed and wrapped lettuce leaf and begins to chew, and Yunho's eyes are sparkling from the stall's decorative fairy lights as he watches a happy smile stretch across Hongjoong's lips. "Isn't it delicious!?"

"What's in there?" Hongjoong wonders, stepping closer to the stall to examine the array of ingredients. "What did you put in it, babe?"

"Beef, a bit of rice, ginger, green onion, and ssamjang," Yunho smiles, gesturing behind him to the empty stall that is usually run by a kind-hearted ahjumma, "but the lady cooks everything really nicely here - I've asked her for her secrets, she's just gone to write them down for me. And she says you can still have it when you're pregnant, so if you like it, I'll make it for you whenever you like!"

"You think I'll be craving ssam?" Hongjoong can't help the smile that stretches across his lips at how enthusiastically Yunho nods in answer.

"To the point you'll never want it again afterwards and means more for me for the rest of time!"

~❈~

"I still don't understand how you'd never seen a Spider-Man movie before we met."

Hongjoong just manages to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the comment, heaving himself off the couch to change the DVD in the player from Spider-Man to Spider-Man 2 and restock on snacks, at Yunho's insistence. Following their street market escapades and Yunho wanting to try out the recipe given to him by the lovely ahjumma who ran the ssam stall, Hongjoong had surprised him with a Spider-Man marathon, starting of course with the Tobey Maguire movies.

Yunho's comment is made every time they watch any Spider-Man movie, as that very knowledge had been the driving force of their second ever date. Upon discovering Hongjoong to have dipped his toes into superhero cinema, but never seen any of the then six existing Spider-Man movies (with Spider-Man: Far From Home just weeks away from becoming the hero's latest instalment at the time), Yunho had all but dragged him back to his apartment to binge them all.

Their third date had consequently been at the cinema for another rendezvous with Tom Holland's Peter Parker; not that either of them had any complaints about that.

"Well, you've fully converted me now," Hongjoong sighs as he practically collapses back onto the couch, giggling at how Yunho pouts in betrayal because he'd purposely not flopped back into his awaiting arms to resume their snuggles, "so I'd say we're even on that front."

"Get your cute little soon-to-be-pregnant butt back over here," Yunho warns, still pouting, "then I'll call it even."

Hongjoong tests the waters a little, staying where he is. Clearly the wrong call, as Yunho unleashes his puppy eyes and gestures once more to be joined for cuddles, pouting harder. Cuddles are Yunho's life force, he needs them more than goddamn oxygen, and he knows that they come with limits and quotas as of tomorrow, so excuse him for wanting to stock up now while Hongjoong isn't potentially carrying their pup.

And he wins; Hongjoong lasts another ten seconds before placing their popcorn bowl on the coffee table and scooting said cute little butt over to snuggle back into Yunho's arms, making sure to placate him with a sweet kiss.

"Mm mm, nope, come back," Yunho chases after him, pulls Hongjoong back in for another kiss, "not forgiven yet."

Hongjoong doesn't care. Yunho could kiss him to death as payment for forgiveness, Hongjoong would go happily. It's so easy for him to be caught up in his kisses, each one makes him feel alive and loved, so so loved.

It's perfectly normal, then, when a satisfied hum slips from his lips and he moves closer, presses their lips harder together once he's settled comfortably enough in Yunho's lap and wrapped his legs around his waist for good measure. Taking it as a sign to go further, Yunho brings his hands up to Hongjoong's waist, squeezing it a little with each surge of a kiss, loving how each squeeze draws a cute little whine from Hongjoong as he pulls away for air before diving back in.

Yunho would usually further entertain this exchange, but a sudden thought has him pushing Hongjoong back as gently as he can, turning his head whenever he tries to chase his lips for another kiss. "Joong—"

"Yu—"

"Baby, we can't," his voice is husky, it's agony watching the answering pout form on kiss-swollen lips because fuck, he just wants to kiss him breathless and go so much further, "you know we can't, doctor's orders—"

"Jongho said I shouldn't have sex," Hongjoong whines, hips already grinding down, "not that I can't."

Now, that catches Yunho in a bind, because Jongho did, in fact, say that. And knowing Hongjoong, the exact phrasing of those orders are what's called into question here.

"You know as well as I do that shouldn't is a fancy can't, babe," he tries, hooking his fingers through the belt loops of Hongjoong's jeans in an effort to still his hips, "we shouldn't do it; what if it messes up the transfer? We'll have to start the process all over again."

"Then let me fuck you."

A rather easy solution, plain and simple but still, Yunho blinks once, twice, thrice before it gets into his head what Hongjoong is saying. "Come again?"

Hongjoong smirks, leans down to Yunho's ear. "Let... me... fuck… you." He purrs. Just for good measure, he makes sure to graze his lips over the shell of his ear which earns him a weak whimper from Yunho, hands coming down to squeeze his hips in warning.

A little nibble on his earlobe and Yunho is won over as he twists his body into an upright position, the grip on Hongjoong's hips holding him firmly in Yunho's lap before hungry lips find his, and swallow them in a heated kiss.

What follows is natural; carnal desire between lovers so sincere in their feelings that clothing becomes a mutually insufferable barrier between them both, the need for closeness overwhelming their better judgement to the point that fuck it, the night is young becomes a shared sentiment.

~❈~

"We'll leave you to relax for a few minutes, get used to everything, and I'll be back to explain the next few stages to you, okay?" Jongho smiles, dropping his gloves into the medical waste bin before turning to the anxious couple whose lives he'd potentially just changed forever.

"Thanks Jongho," Yunho nods, barely able to peel his eyes away from Hongjoong long enough to acknowledge the doctor by the door, he's so nervous on behalf of his mate, "for everything."

Jongho gives a nod in farewell before slipping out of the room, and Hongjoong and Yunho are left to their own devices, to grapple with what's happened within the last few hours. Yunho sits at Hongjoong's head, thumb brushing over his knuckles as if Hongjoong were still getting worked up about the transfer.

"You did so well, Joongie," Yunho can feel a smile stretching across his lips, albeit a shaky one to match the tears in his eyes that he's failing spectacularly at holding back, "I'm so proud of you."

Hongjoong lets out a giggle at the way Yunho's voice shakes, reaching over to wipe the tears away before cupping his cheek in his own hand, heart melting a little at the way Yunho turns his head and nuzzles his nose into his palm in affection. "I thought it'd hurt more; I hardly felt a thing," he admits, "was it always like that for you?"

"Every time," Yunho sniffles, tears falling freely now as he nods, pressing kisses to Hongjoong's temple as he feels too much love in that moment; he needs to get it out of his system before he bursts, "it always got me, thinking I'd feel pain only to feel so little, a-and then later, feeling everything at once when we're home…"

"I know, babe, I know," Hongjoong soothes, guiding Yunho to rest their foreheads together and stroking a thumb over his cheek to calm him down, "and this time it's going to be different, okay? We're going to go home, we'll set up a movie and just relax for the rest of the night, and we're going to be good as gold for the next two weeks, okay?"

"Month…"

"Hm?"

"N-Not two weeks," Yunho mumbles, shakes his head, "every time we tested after two weeks, we… um…"

"Okay, okay," Hongjoong doesn't allow Yunho to finish that sentence, stops him with a kiss, "we'll try wait a month this time, put a little spin on it." That last part makes Yunho laugh and smile a little, and Hongjoong feels his heart flutter at that smile. Shy, slightly lopsided, always genuine.

The smile he fell in love with. The smile he hopes their pup will inherit.

Hongjoong's always hoped that their pup, however they're conceived, would take more after Yunho than him; his softer angled nose, that damn smile, the sparkle in his eyes, his big heart. He makes his way down his face, imagining every feature but in miniature, a giggle slipping out as Yunho smiles again, bigger and more crooked than before as he watches how Hongjoong effectively scans down his face, a wistful sheen glazing over his eyes as he zeroes in on certain features.

"I hope they look like you," he muses, loving how Hongjoong's eyes widen at how he'd been able to read his mind, "and that they have your eyes, your smile too… your cute little nose, too,"

"Then what's left of yours for them to inherit?" Hongjoong pouts, fingertip tracing over his favourite features with a feather-light touch, "your height? Your hands? Your ears?"

"And what's wrong with my ears? My ears are nice!"

"They're lovely ears," he gives them a playful tug, "but I'd love if they looked like you; you were such a cute baby, if they come out looking like you then I'll have my own baby Yuyu to love!"

They carry on back and forth—never malicious, never antagonising—comparing faces and manipulating debates with kisses and loving nuzzles, until a gentle knock informs them of Jongho's return to go through the timeline over the next two weeks… or month, as they'd decided.

It's the last part that Jongho frowns at. "I would prefer that you come in and have the usual tests that you'd have after fourteen days," he starts, and Yunho tries too late to bite back the whimper of fear that escapes his lips, "but you could have it to be your first at-home test to be 30 days after transfer. A two-part revelation, if you will."

"So… the scans and beta testing as normal to see if everything's okay," Hongjoong repeats, "but then an at-home test… to have that moment as we'd decided?"

Jongho nods. "Hypothetically, if you aren't pregnant within the 14 days, it wouldn't benefit you to stay on the medications; these tests also rule out the wondering of if this develops into an ectopic or chemical pregnancy. I wouldn't be advising this if it weren't in your best interests, Hongjoong, you know that."

Hongjoong nods, lets out a sigh of reluctant acceptance and looks down at his lap. A few minutes pass in tense silence before Hongjoong's free hand comes up and rests over his lower abdomen, where their pup is hopefully latching on tight and planning to grow and meet their dads.

That gesture alone is what makes Yunho lean forward, arms settling on the table next to his mate, before lowering his ear to where Hongjoong's hand rests. He listens, feels a phantom kick, and nuzzles the hand longingly. Two weeks isn't unreasonable, and he won't let his past fears push Hongjoong into waiting longer to find out. This could finally be their time. So with one final thought, one that makes him smile, he agrees that he can wait two weeks instead of a month to find out.

His final thought? Their baby's going to be cute no matter who they come out looking like.

~❈~

"Kim Hongjoong, why aren't you in bed?"

He shouldn't have called Yunho. He knew it, because the smoke alarm is currently screaming at him—he's convinced the kitchen holds a personal vendetta against him ever since his last culinary catastrophe—and the damn thing is loud enough for only dogs, or in this case Yunho, to hear even through the phone.

Under normal circumstances on a Saturday, Yunho spoils Hongjoong with freshly made miyeok-guk, seaweed soup, served in bed along with a chocolate YooHoo, and kisses and cuddles for afters. But this morning, Hongjoong woke up alone to cold sheets, Yunho's old college hoodie draped over him, and a note on his pillow explaining he'd been called into work for an emergency meeting, promising to be back as soon as he could, and encouraging him to stay in bed and sleep some more to make time go faster. Hongjoong had done his best to follow that last order—Yunho had ordered him to strict bed rest ever since the embryo transfer a week ago—but the craving for miyeok-guk took over his longing to fall back asleep, and so he had traipsed into the kitchen in search of kelp.

Hilarity had ensued at Hongjoong's expense, as Yunho had called him just seconds before the smoke alarm started up its crocodile shrieks of a non-existent fire.

"Joongie, you are meant to be on bed rest. What have you set on fire this time?"

"I haven't! The kitchen just hates me!" Hongjoong whines, abandoning the phone on the counter in order to turn off the stove and save the sadness that is his first ever attempt at his favourite breakfast food. "I want miyeok-guk, but you're not home to make it."

"Oh baby," Hongjoong can hear the exasperated smile in Yunho's voice, "did we run out of the last batch I made?"

Hongjoong forgets Yunho can't see him as he nods with a pout, before offering an affirmative grunt in answer. "And the kimchi too."

"Baby, you're eating me out of house and home just one week after pay day," Yunho sighs, Hongjoong bites his lip to stifle the giggle threatening to bubble out of him as he imagines Yunho pinching the bridge of his nose as he thinks of a new plan of action, "okay baby, we're just about finished up here. I'll stop by Lotte Mart on my way home and pick up the things to make a fresh batch, if you promise me you'll clean up your mess and go back to bed."

"But—"

"There's a bag of honey butter chips in the pantry, some rainbow sherbet in the freezer, and a chocolate YooHoo for you in the fridge; can those tide you over for now?"

"…travel safe, Jagi, I'll see you later!" Hongjoong chimes before hitting the 'end call' button in favour of hunting down the hidden snacks.

You'd think he'd have learnt by now that procrastination is always in vain; knowing all too well that Hongjoong would abandon all tasks in favour of grabbing the snacks to consume as fast as possible instead of cleaning up after himself… the freakishly tall bastard known as his husband had placed the honey butter chips on the top shelf.

Hongjoong knew better than to climb up to free his beloved snacks. By the time he'd be done with his tasks, Yunho would be home and he could get them down for him.

Never mind the fact he'd nearly broken his ankle the last time he'd climbed up there…

Shaking the temptation from his brain, Hongjoong casts a longing look at his snacks once more, sniffling and biting his lip to hold back tears that seem to come out of nowhere, before sucking it up to deal with the cruelty of his fate as he drags himself back over to the stove to dump the literal hot mess of his culinary skills down the sink.

He's still scrubbing burnt seaweed out of the pan when he hears keys in the front door and Yunho's telltale hum indicating his happy mood. His happiness is infectious, and clearly getting stronger as Hongjoong feels himself starting to grin like a lovesick idiot before the first indicative thud of a shoe being kicked off Yunho's foot, followed quickly by another.

There's a brief silence as he shrugs his coat off to hang it up before the humming resumes, grows louder as he enters the kitchen and goes from simple hums to soft vibrations against Hongjoong's neck as Yunho wraps his arms around his mate's waist and presses his nose to his skin, a contented sigh leaving his lips once Hongjoong's scent engulfs his senses.

"Missed you," he mumbles, smiling at how Hongjoong giggles and practically folds into him from how his lips tickle his neck, "shopping's in the hall, wanted cuddles first,"

"Cuddles are more important anyway," Hongjoong's face is already smushed against his chest before he even speaks, "and you owe me kisses t- mmm~" lips press firm against Hongjoong's before he can finish, the kiss swallowing up another giggle as he feels Yunho tug him along, manoeuvring them back towards the bedroom.

"How about," Yunho breathes, pulls away—unfortunately, they're only human and oxygen is sadly still a necessity—but rests his forehead against Hongjoong's to keep him close, "I make up for leaving you alone this morning?"

"And how would you do that?"

"I'm thinking cuddles, kisses, dinner, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Sound good?"

If this is how Yunho always plans to resolve mornings like these, Hongjoong may just try burning the house down a little more often.

~❈~

"Mr. Kim?"

Yunho's smile slips right into place as he looks up from his stack of paperwork—student files never seem to be up-to-date, and he keeps meaning to chase down the ladies at Reception about them—to see big brown eyes peeking around the door and a lock of ebony hair fall over the shoulder of a timid young girl, almost curling in on herself as if to fuse herself with his office door.

"Chaeryeong, come in!" He beckons her closer, stands from his desk to walk over and gently shut the door behind the teen as she sits in the deep purple bean bag chair wedged up in the corner of his office.

Following routine, Yunho grabs a fluffy lilac blanket from the shelf, offering it to her to keep her warm before grabbing his notebook, Chaeryeong's favourite pen she prefers him to use from his pen holder, and her special little fox plushie from his bottom desk drawer before joining her in the corner, sitting in the opposing pink bean bag chair with his baby pink blanket for his own lap and flopping into it, smiling in victory when a shy little giggle came from the girl before he composes himself, hands her the plushie to keep her hands busy, then settles back into his bean bag and opens his notebook to a fresh page before writing the day's date in the top right hand corner.

"So, it's been a little while since your last visit, hasn't it?"

Where not having his own pups often brought pain to his heart, Yunho's natural gift with the youth shone best in his work; never had he imagined himself to be a high school counsellor, but two days into this very position he still holds now provided him the clarity he'd needed.

His job is by no means easy, not even in the slightest, but knowing that he's able to make a difference in these young lives, no matter how big or small, it means the world to Yunho. To be the listening ear or the gentle hands that turn a student's grey clouds into sunshine and rainbows, the warm hug or friendly smile desired to make it easier to get complex feelings out, the school favourite or the staff's collective work bestie; Yunho loves his job and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. He might not have pups of his own, but if he can help the future one teenager at a time, that's fine by him.

His session with Chaeryeong flies by—she's come so far since her very first session with Yunho back in September—and it's lunchtime before he knows it. Alan Walker's Faded is stuck in his head and sung to himself as he grabs his lunch bag and locks his office door before heading to the staffroom.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when his shoulders are grabbed to turn him around, and his eyes are met by the sparkling, hazelnut gaze of Kang Yeosang, the gym teacher and schoolwide crush of both students and staff alike.

He's caught Yunho humming his favourite song. "It's good, right?!"

"It's catchy, I'll give you that," Yunho laughs, shrugging Yeosang off of him and allowing the usually quiet teacher to drag him by his wrist over to their usual table, "but I'm pretty sure Hongjoong's going to kill me if I don't replace it with a new earworm soon."

Just as Yeosang launches into a rather enthusiastic thesis of reasons why Faded is such a good song, Yunho doubles over, clutches his stomach and just manages to stop himself from gagging on the smell of Yeosang's lunch; doenjang jjigae with rice, fishcakes, and bulgogi.

"Yu?" Yeosang stands from the table—as do two other teachers from the next table at the commotion—to reach out and support Yunho. "Yunho, you okay?"

Another stifled retch has him almost shoving Yunho out of the staffroom and into the staff toilets just across the corridor, just in time to shove the counsellor's head in the bowl before Yunho is throwing up his breakfast. White-knuckling grip on the rim to hold himself up so he doesn't dunk his head in the water from his impulse to hang his head in shame, with Yeosang rubbing his back to soothe him that it's okay, that he's got him, offering to call Hongjoong to come pick him up and bring him home early.

Yunho already knows that's a no-go. "Joongie's not well, I've banned him from driving until he's better," he would have laughed at how the toilet bowl makes his voice echo, but he's feeling too shitty to laugh at present, "have to stay… sessions…"

"I think the fuck not, do you want the kids to get sick too!?" Yeosang screeches, "Finish hurling your guts out, then get up and grab your shit, I'll bring the car 'round."

That's an order, whether Yunho had been able to argue back or not. Besides, Yeosang's married to the school's principal—the man could get away with murder and his husband wouldn't even bat an eyelid—so Yunho really has no ground upon which to stand. Fighting another wave of nausea is harder than it looks, but he steels his gut and hauls himself to his feet as Yeosang disappears to inform of Yunho's sudden leave of absence as decided.

The amount of mental focus he needs to hold back from throwing up in Yeosang's car, means that Yunho is home before he knows it, Hongjoong shooing Yeosang away from the car to open the door himself.

"Sangie says you're sick,"

"Mm…"

"All I did was open my lunch," Yeosang's voice is strained as he helps bring Yunho inside and up to their apartment, "it was all his favourites, too; I was expecting to have to fight him off, like always."

"He gagged at the smell of bulgogi?" Hongjoong questions from down the hall, eyebrows vanished into his hairline at the news that his husband, the most meat-loving man he's ever known, threw up at the smell of meat.

From where he was laid on the couch, presumably to rot in misery, Yunho hears the door close, then lock, and then Hongjoong is practically sliding across the floor in his socks to get back to him. If he'd had the energy, he would have scolded Hongjoong for it; suppose he fell and hurt himself, what good is Yunho right now?

"Yuyu? Baby, look at me for a second, please," Hongjoong coaxes, the gentle combing of his fingers through Yunho's hair earning him a happy hum from his mate as he snuggles closer before looking up at him. "Hi, sweetie. Good day until lunch?"

"I felt fine," Yunho mumbles, sleepy and quiet and fighting to stay awake as illness-induced exhaustion threatens to pull him under, "a little iffy, kind of queasy, but fine. And then Yeosang's lunch… I just couldn't keep it down."

"Even the bulgogi? But you normally love meat?"

Yunho hums in answer, even words feel like too much effort right now, and Hongjoong would have left it at that, if not for the uneasy twisting in his own stomach that has him running to the bathroom himself. His haste makes Yunho sit up, energised by concern as he then stands and follows him to the bathroom just as Hongjoong is rinsing his mouth. "Joongie?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, it's just the pup, I'm fine."

Hongjoong freezes, having forgotten that Yunho didn't yet know, then slowly turns to the door to be met by that wide, glassy gaze threatening to spill tears over, and Yunho's frame trembling. From chills or overwhelm, Hongjoong isn't sure, until Yunho smiles.

"Pup? Joongie…are you?"

Hongjoong doesn't even try to hold back his own tears, nearly breaking his own neck with how eagerly he nods as he reaches for Yunho's hands. "I took a test this morning, you'd already gone to work," he smiles, "I wanted to surprise you when you got home, that's why I didn't tell you."

"Oh, baby, I'm not mad you didn't tell me," Yunho sniffles, pulls Hongjoong in to wrap his arms around his waist and press his lips to his forehead, "not in the slightest; you're pregnant! You're carrying our pup!" He even bounces up and down on the balls of his feet a few times in excitement; an adorable feature, one that Hongjoong fleetingly hopes their pup will pick up from him.

And he can't wait to officially meet them, at their post-transfer ultrasound next week.

~❈~

"Everything looks good since your post-transfer exam last month; your endometrium is nice and thick, and I see no signs of ectopic or chemical pregnancy… it's a healthy, viable pregnancy, and you're officially six weeks along."

Hongjoong beams at the good news, turning his head to look at Yunho perched on a stool just behind him at the head of the bed on which Hongjoong lies, shirt pulled up to his chest and stomach smeared in that ice cold gel as Jongho slides the transducer over where their pup resides in his uterus. Yunho returns the smile with his own, leaning forward to press his lips to his mate's temple in praise.

Good job, appa.

Speaking of their pup, Hongjoong ends up holding his breath as Jongho stills, brows furrowing in concentration as he rotates the probe a few times, circling the same little spot of Hongjoong's lower abdomen. Five minutes of tense silence pass, and then Jongho smiles as he clicks, then types, then turns to the expectant parents. "You two ready?"

"R-Ready?" Yunho blinks, straightening in his seat as Hongjoong blindly reaches for his hand, eyes wide as dinner plates because are they ready? "Joongie..?"

"Please," Hongjoong breathes, vision blurring with tears as he nods, "let us see, let us see!"

His eagerness makes Jongho chuckle as he double checks the position of the transducer and the image on the screen, and then turns the monitor towards them both.

Hongjoong gasps.

Yunho brings a hand to his mouth.

And both of their lives are changed forever as they see their tiny little tadpole shaped pup, floating around in there without a care in the world, growing bigger and stronger each and every day.

Another click from Jongho, and a rapid whoosh-whoosh-whoosh fills the room; the baby's heartbeat, faint but present. "I know it sounds quiet now, but it'll be stronger when you come in for your twelve week scan. Would you like me to record this for you?"

"Yes, please." Yunho answers immediately, eyes glued the monitor. Hongjoong is still enraptured with the little bean, so tiny even next to his fingernail as he slowly reaches up to gently brush his finger over the image on the screen.

"Hi, baby," he blinks hard to hold back his tears, wanting to see their pup clearly for a few more seconds, "hi… you're so little… oh, you're so tiny… tiny, but mighty, right?"

Yunho wails something all of a sudden, completely gone as tears stream from his eyes, cheeks reddened and nose running as he stands from his stool to grab the offered box of tissues after Jongho points them out. It takes a few gentle requests of Yunho repeating his words for Hongjoong to understand why his husband keeps sobbing his heart out: "Just like their appa."

Tiny but mighty.

"I've recorded this for you," Jongho adds, drawing Hongjoong's attention away from the monitor as he thanks him, sitting up and accepting a few tissues to start cleaning up the gel smeared all over his abdomen while Jongho busies himself with updating Hongjoong's file, and Yunho's searching for another box of tissues because his tears just won't stop.

As endearing as he finds Yunho's being emotional, Hongjoong doesn't want a dehydrated husband on his hands as he eases himself off the bed and wraps his arms around his waist, rests his chin on Yunho's chest the way he knows always makes Yunho giggle from how cute it is. "Yuyu? Baby, you wanna grab us some drinks for the drive home?"

Yunho looks down to him and giggles, making Hongjoong smile in victory, then nods and leaves a gentle peck on Hongjoong's lips before making his way over to the door, drying his eyes for the nth time as he mumbles about being back soon, and slips out of the room in search of the nearest vending machine.

Just as Hongjoong wanted. He has questions for Jongho, questions regarding Yunho and a few key observations he's made over the last few weeks.

~❈~

"Okay, let me get this straight," Yunho says, standing from the couch and beginning to pace around their living room in order to gather his thoughts. "You're an omega, I'm an omega. We're in an omega-omega relationship, have been for the last six years, four of which we've been married. You're currently six-and-a-half weeks pregnant with our pup who we conceived through IVF. And you're theorising that, after we slept together the night before your embryo transfer that knocked you up, I am also somehow knocked up with your child?!"

Hongjoong watches him from his seat on the couch—his face is somewhat green, and holding a basin because morning sickness is a bitch and this baby is going the whole nine yards of first trimester suffering. "That is correct,"

"Hongjoong, that's not even fucking possible!"

"Yunho, you are pregnant!" Hongjoong would have thrown the basin at him, but it's holding his breakfast. "You're way more emotional, you hate the same foods you hated when pregnant the last time, your sleep schedule is back to how it was in college, and the timing makes perfect sense!"

"I was pregnant one time, Hongjoong, that doesn't mean anything!" Yunho groans, rubbing his temple as he feels a headache coming on. "Joongie, how could you get me pregnant? You're an omega, otherwise we'd be practically swimming in pups by now!"

Fair point, but not it.

"Yu, there's a doctor who studies things like this," Hongjoong sighs, very quickly losing his energy to argue any further with him. "Jongho told me about him; he's an expert in omega reproduction, he's being doing research for years on our biology."

Yunho would have argued further, but he can see how exhausted Hongjoong is. He reckons he would be too, after an entire morning of morning sickness, migraines, and constipation but also needing to pee every hour, on the hour. So, biting his lip to keep from lashing out, Yunho makes sure Hongjoong's basin is on the floor next to the couch, his blanket securely tucked around him, and his neck properly propped up on his cushion so he doesn't get a crick in his neck after his nap.

"You're too good to me…" Hongjoong mumbles.

"You're just as good to me," Yunho looks at him, unable to hold back his grin as he kisses his nose to make him smile. "We'll talk more later, okay? Did Jongho make an appointment for us to see this guy? What's his name, anyway?"

"Park Seonghwa. Jongho says he's the leading expert on omega reproductive health, and that he's had a case maybe like ours with an omega couple before."

Yunho turns it over in his mind, trying to ignore the pleading eyes and matching pout Hongjoong gives, in an attempt to persuade him. Part of him wants to go along with this, to go and see this Park Seonghwa and what all his research means. But another part of him, the one that had been down the painful road before, begs not to see it through; why go through this and get his hopes up, potentially in vain? Why set himself up for another heartbreak? Why get excited about pregnancy when Hongjoong's pregnant right now, when they already have a pup to pour all their love and excitement into?

Yunho is strong, stronger than most people give him credit for. But he knows himself; he isn't strong enough to handle losing another pup, real or not.

But when he looks at Hongjoong again, mind made up and ready to give his stance… Hongjoong is fast asleep, one hand resting over his stomach—a habit ever since the transfer—while the other hangs off the couch, reached out towards him. Yunho takes it, laces their fingers together, presses a gentle kiss to his mate's knuckles and holds them to his lips.

"I don't know if I can handle this again," He doesn't hide how his voice shakes with oncoming tears, freezing as Hongjoong stirs, hums softly, continues to sleep as his hand slides further down his abdomen to rest directly above where their pup is growing, and Yunho stares at his hand, "but I'll try. For you. I'll try to think positive, okay?"

I'll try. I'll try. I'll try.

~❈~

"Dr. Park will see you both now, Mr and Mr. Kim."

Yunho's breath shakes as he inhales deeply, squeezing Hongjoong's hand to keep himself calm as they follow the nurse down the hallway, then directed into possibly the cleanest office Yunho's ever seen; warm cream coloured walls with a matching ceiling and floor, an examination bed and ultrasound machine by the back wall, a few decorative plants dotted around the room for ambience, a pristine, ergnomic desk chair, and the most perfectly organised birch wood desk to ever possibly exist.

And skirting around said desk to welcome them is Park Seonghwa, the very man they've come to see, arms open and smile warm.

"Hongjoong and Yunho, welcome!" He beckons them closer, eyes sparkling behind his glasses as he reaches out for a handshake. Damn, even his hands are warm—Yunho almost feels comfortable about this as Seonghwa offers them a seat in front of his desk. "I'm so glad you're here, I hope the drive wasn't too difficult?"

Hongjoong gives a light shake of his head,but Yunho knows he's still a little queasy from the journey to Seonghwa's practice. His poor Joongie is suffering every symptom in the book under the chapter of 'first trimester'—around-the-clock morning sickness, mood swings, frequent naps from low energy, insane cravings—and their pup doesn't seem to have any intentions of letting up any time soon.

Hongjoong may only be eight weeks pregnant, but their baby's already taking up the mantle of family menace.

Seonghwa makes sure he's settled back in his chair before opening their file open on his computer screen and turning to look at them. "So, Dr. Choi sent your file ahead to me after making your appointment, but I just want to be sure that you both know why that is," he looks between the two of them, eyes drifting from Hongjoong, who rests his left hand over his stomach, to Yunho, who stares down at his hands in his lap, playing with Hongjoong's fingers.

One of them wants to be here; the other doesn't.

"Hongjoong and Jongh—" Yunho bites his lip at his error, shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Hongjoong and Dr. Choi both seem to be under the impression that I may be pregnant. By Hongjoong."

"And why do you sound sceptical, Yunho?"

"Because it's not possible. It can't be possible; Hongjoong and I are omegas, we can't get each other pregnant."

Yunho is stubborn, he's not budging on this fact. The way he abandons holding Hongjoong's hand to instead defensively fold his arms over his chest tells Seonghwa much more than Yunho's words have. He's been hurt before, he thinks, and he doesn't want to hurt like this again.

Seonghwa has to be careful in how he explains this. How he explains his work, his research. The reason as to why Jongho arranged their coming here at all.

"Once Jongho sent me your file, I arranged your appointment today myself," Seonghwa turns back to his computer screen, reading through the open file as he continues. "Yes, Yunho, both you and Hongjoong are omegas, and yes, it's generally believed that omegas can only get pregnant through mating with an alpha. But that isn't the only way."

Yunho frowns, and so Seonghwa explains.

"Twelve years ago, I was working in this very practice as the OB-GYN to a lovely young omega couple, not much older than you are now," he smiles at the memory, and the way Hongjoong perks up in interest makes him laugh, "who thought they were pregnant."

"What do you mean, they 'thought' they were pregnant?" Yunho narrows his eyes. "Why weren't they certain?"

"Because they hadn't gone through IVF or any other alternative method of conception. They had no alphas in their lives at all, outside of family relations. But a pregnancy test they'd taken on a whim had come back positive. I even took bloodwork from them after their ultrasound, to confirm their subgenders—both of them were omegas, and somehow conceived a child."

Yunho still looks doubtful, but Hongjoong is fascinated, leaning forward in his chair and reaching to shake his husband's arm in excitement. "How is that possible? If omegas supposedly need alphas to have pups… and now they don't… how is that possible?"

"I have spent years, decades even, researching and studying omega reproductive health," Seonghwa rummages around in his bottom desk drawer as he speaks, voice muffled, "because of them. Theoretically, this shouldn't be possible. But it is— aha! There you are!" He holds up a file in triumph, gently brushing off the dust as he slides it in front of the couple and offers for them to open it, read its contents. "It is possible."

Still sceptical, Yunho is the one to grab the file, Hongjoong practically hanging off his shoulder as they read through it together; Jung Wooyoung and Song Mingi, no alpha involvement, biologically viable pregnancy, full-term, healthy pup and parent.

"Are they still okay? Do you still keep in touch?" Hongjoong sounds eager, hopeful.

"I should hope so," Seonghwa nods, "I'm the pup's godfather. It was the first thing they asked me once they were officially out of my care—"

"So how did this happen?" Yunho cuts in, mind still very much fixated on leaving as soon as possible as he plops the file back down on the desk. "How did they have a pup if they had no alpha?"

Hongjoong lets out an embarrassed huff before he nuzzles against Yunho's neck, trying to sweeten him up. "Yunho, give him a chance. Please."

Taking a moment to look at them, really look at them, Seonghwa sees it properly—Hongjoong is hopeful, Yunho is resigned. He knows from their file's history that Yunho endured two previous failed rounds of IVF, and one that stuck but ended in a miscarriage at eleven weeks; he knows that this is their fourth round; he knows that this is Hongjoong's first time carrying, currently eight weeks pregnant, and holding strong. He knows that Yunho won't be easily convinced by this.

Seonghwa knows.

And so he digresses no further.

"As you both know, subgender is what classes us into alpha, omega, beta, and, in rare cases, enigma. It's not our primary gender identity—male, female, non-binary, agender, et cetera—but our secondary gender identity, meaning that for the most part, its traits are weaker in regards to our predominantly human biology; its fusion with our human biology is what allows the opposite sexes to perform the tasks of their counterparts, such as pregnancy or impregnation." Seonghwa can't help but smirk at the way both omegas' faces turn scarlet, undoubtedly getting flashbacks of talks like this from their school days, before he continues.

"In extremely rare cases, such as Wooyoung and Mingi, the sex of a male omega can, for lack of a better verb, overpower the subgender's biological function and allow the omega to impregnate another omega. It's not a subgender misclassification, but a sort of subgender evolution: Wooyoung's biology recognised both his and his mate's longing for pups and mutated in accordance of fulfilment."

"Adapt to survive, and all that?" Yunho tries to simplify - he never was one for fancy science terminology.

"Exactly!" Seonghwa nods. "Adapt to survive. Wooyoung's biology mutated on a cellular level to allow him to give his mate pups." He leans forward, rests his hands on the desk as he looks over at Yunho. "I can't offer certainty because I have only one documented case of this but… Yunho, I can give you an ultrasound right now if you want a concrete answer."

That has Yunho siting up a little more in his seat. It has Hongjoong's eyes widening, hand bolting at breakneck speed to grab Yunho's, neck twisting to look at his husband, ready to get on his knees and beg Yunho to get the scan.

It doesn't take any begging, because Yunho gives a tiny, microscopic nod in agreement. "…okay."

Hormones are a bitch, because not-pregnant Hongjoong would've simply smiled and hugged Yunho with pride. Instead, pregnant Hongjoong squeaks in excitement and practically launches himself into Yunho's lap, wrapping his arms and legs around him in a hug as he peppers kisses all over his face. It takes up to the fourth kiss for Yunho to cave and start giggling as he hugs his mate back, making sure to sate him with a few tender kisses before they follow Seonghwa over to the examination bed.

"Fuck, this is soft," Yunho gasps as he lays back, unable to stop himself from snuggling further down to get more comfortable before pulling his shirt up to his chest.

"Only the best for my patients," Seonghwa boasts, then quietly apologises for the coldness of the gel as he squirts it in a little spiral over Yunho's stomach. "Now, let's see what we have here."

Silence takes over the office; Seonghwa diligently scanning Yunho's abdomen with the transducer, Hongjoong almost crushing Yunho's fingers in his own two hands as he brushes his thumb over Yunho's knuckles and his eyes never leave his mate, and Yunho…

Yunho's eyes are screwed tightly shut, his whole body shaking as he whispers please, please, please under his breath.

Nearly ten minutes of complete silence pass, seemingly stretching on forever for the two omegas, until finally, Hongjoong spies a smile growing on Seonghwa's lips and his eyes lighting up with a sparkle.

"Yunho… do you want to meet your pup?"

Never had Yunho's eyes flown open, nor his head turn, so fast. "Shut the fuck up."

"Yunho!"

"He just said I'm pregnant!"

"You are definitely pregnant," Seonghwa laughs, clicking once or twice before turning the screen towards the couple, "eight weeks pregnant, in fact."

"Eight weeks?!" Twin shrieks from equally shocked omegas.

Eight weeks. The transfer.

Or, more accurately, the night before the transfer. Their date night. That was when their surprise pup—because what the fuck, they are a surprise—was conceived. Yunho was pregnant first.

"Eight weeks and looking as healthy as can be," Seonghwa goes on, "size is good, legs are nice and long, head is nice and big; you're carrying a perfectly viable foetus, Yunho."

Hongjoong is barely managing to hold back his tears, one hand clasped against his mouth to muffle his sobs as he looks back and forth between the screen and a very stunned Yunho.

Speaking of Yunho, he's frozen. He's rigid, hand still being crushed in Hongjoong's other hand, eyes wide with shock at the news and fixed on the blurry little black-and-white bean on the screen, with its bulbous head and paddle-length legs and barely developed little buds where its hands will develop over time.

Eight weeks, roughly the size of a raspberry.

And it's the most beautiful little raspberry Yunho's ever seen.

~❈~

Yunho's had the twelve week mark circled on their calendar ever since Hongjoong got pregnant.

Twelve weeks. A new milestone for them, in many ways. For Hongjoong, each new week is a goal reached and worth celebrating, and one week closer to having their pup in their arms, their family finally complete. But for Yunho…

For Yunho, it's the furthest he'd got of all their years of trying. It's safety, it's control, it's knowing that he doesn't have to hold his breath anymore.

He lets out that breath when Jongho turns the screen to show them the pup in Yunho's uterus, safe and sound and the size of a plum, appearing to be sucking their thumb. Hongjoong giggles at the gesture.

"Everything's just as expected for twelve weeks," Jongho grins, finishing the recording of Yunho's ultrasound and handing him some tissues to clean the gel off of his stomach, "congratulations, you two. Both of you expecting, I'll bet that wasn't planned at all."

The comment has Yunho sharing a sly look with Hongjoong. Jongho is right; it hadn't been planned, not in the slightest, because neither of them had known it to be possible until their visit to Seonghwa just over a month ago. Even then, it had taken Yunho another week to truly grasp the fact that he was pregnant, and that Hongjoong had knocked him up.

Once it had hit home, though, Yunho had practically emptied their local pharmacy of prenatal vitamins and supplements on their way home from Seonghwa's practice, spent a month's savings on various pregnancy safe holistic remedies sworn by four or five different doulas and midwives, and bought every existing book on homeopathic prenatal care. Mornings became an assault of the senses, from the smells of essential oils to the cacophony of rattling supplement bottles, as Yunho counts out his dosages and makes sure to take them after breakfast each and every morning at the exact same time.

Almost a little too exact. Religiously, in fact.

But newfound neuroticism aside, Hongjoong is just as happy for Yunho as their friends and family had been at the news. Two little ones on the way, to a couple no less deserving of pups to love as much as they love each other.

Jongho clears his throat then, breaking up the moment between the two as he hides a smug smile and resets his equipment, preparing for Hongjoong's scan next. "Have you made any decisions for further down the line yet? Knowing the sex, or names at all?"

"No, not yet," Yunho smiles, manages to share a sweet peck with Hongjoong as they swap places; Hongjoong makes himself comfy on the bed, Yunho takes the stool behind him. "But we want to get started on the nursery together, before we get too big to do anything by ourselves,"

"We're heading to the hardware shop after this to pick out paint samples!" Hongjoong chimes excitedly, practically vibrating with excitement as Yunho squeezes his hand to calm him down while Jongho chuckles and squirts the gel onto his stomach.

"Let me know what the palette is, so I can get you gifts that match the room."

Yunho holds the doctor to his promise, vowing to bring the samples along to their next scan so he can see for himself, before a comfortable silence takes over the room as Hongjoong's scan takes over the screen, and their eager little plum is there lazily waving at them, and just like their sibling, sucking their thumb as if to say lookie lookie, I can do it too!

"Definitely siblings," Yunho laughs, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against Hongjoong's neck, eyes glued to the screen as he points, "look, they're waving, Joongie…"

"I see, Yuyu, I see," Hongjoong nods, biting his lip hard to stop himself from crying as he leans into Yunho, "they're so smart already…"

He can only imagine how bright their little plums will be when they finally come into the world.

~❈~

"Your pup has it in for me."

"So when they're pissing you off, they're solely my pup?"

"Mine isn't making you throw up three random times a day and play a mystery game of 'what food do I hate today', is it? No, mine has the audacity to make you glow."

Yunho has to bite his tongue to stop himself from firing back an equally sassy comment, focusing instead on counting out his supplements to make sure he has the correct number of each, hearing Hongjoong whining about not finding a comfortable position from where he's laying on the couch in the living room.

At sixteen weeks pregnant, both Hongjoong and Yunho are diving deep into uncharted waters of pregnancy, and they couldn't be further apart on the spectrum of symptoms. Hongjoong suffers, Yunho glows.

Hongjoong's morning sickness has practically moved in long-term by this point, narrowed down at least to a guaranteed three times a day and usually at the most inconvenient of times, he can't keep track of food aversions as they change on a daily basis, and his days are lost to setting up camp on their couch so as to be within easy access of both their TV and the bathroom, their bed being too soft for his back and therefore unsuitable to stay in bed all day.

Yunho, in contrast, is hardly bothered. His morning sickness became a thing of the past as soon as he woke up on the morning of their twelve-week mark, he already has the 'pregnancy glow', and seemingly houses all of the energy that Hongjoong lacks.

Ignoring the grumbles coming from the living room, Yunho fixes a smile to his face as he puts his supplements away—each bottle has its place—before poking his head back into the living room, giggling at the cute little pout on Hongjoong's lips as he glares at him. "Comfy?"

"Would be better if you were here cuddling me,"

"I'm just slicing some peaches, would you like some?" he calls from the kitchen, busy searching for bowls in which to hold the fruit and tissues with which to clean the juice from his hands after eating.

Hongjoong considers, and wrinkles his nose as his stomach turns at the option. "Nope, not today," he burrows down into the blanket instead, "Pup doesn't like it,"

"No? I got them specially for you," Yunho pouts as he brings in his bowl in and takes his place on the far end of the couch, lifting Hongjoong's feet back into his lap and resuming the foot massage he'd abandoned in the middle of giving in favour of grabbing himself and the pup he carries a fruity snack for the pup.

Funnily enough, at thirteen weeks, the pups were roughly the size of a peach.

"I'm sorry baby, maybe I'll like them again tomorrow?" Hongjoong looks at him. "You know how my aversions change pretty much every day, maybe I'll be craving nothing but peaches tomorrow."

Yunho hums, munching on a peach slice as he stares at their TV, blank in its powered off mode, and points to it. "I thought you were gonna pick a movie?"

"Wanted to wait for you…" Hongjoong mumbles, picking at his cuticles because he's shy and refuses to look at Yunho lest he walk face first into coos and coddles of how cute he's being, waiting for his mate. Yunho persists anyway, leaning over to kiss Hongjoong's cheek, then down to kiss his tummy where their pup is busy growing.

"Cuties, both of you."

And Yunho would maintain that notion for the remainder of the pregnancy, no matter how much Hongjoong pouts in offence; it just makes him cuter.

~❈~

"Joongie, baby, it's okay—"

"It's not okay, I can't see my ankles! I don't have ankles anymore!"

If Yunho had a thousand won for every time he'd had to calm down an upset Hongjoong this week alone, he'd be able to buy a week's worth of chocolate YooHoos. Twenty weeks pregnant and Hongjoong's body has officially started a war against itself to accommodate the growing pup in his belly. Mainly, swollen ankles and a rather prominent baby bump.

Yunho finds the latter rather adorable; Hongjoong's more petite frame has resulted in a rather large baby bump, which Hongjoong likes to blame on his "freakishly tall" mate. He hasn't 'popped' yet, but he's already having to swap out his wardrobe for Yunho's oversized 'lazy day' clothes. The swollen ankles, however, Yunho can only help so much with by giving foot and ankle massages, and it isn't the only part; Hongjoong's face is puffy, his hips are wider, his ass is bigger.

All natural parts of pregnancy.

(Read: all natural parts of pregnancy that Yunho finds adorable because he will die on the hill of 'pregnancy makes my mate fifty times cuter and I'm going to die'.)

"Baby, it's okay," Yunho soothes again, tugs Hongjoong closer to him over the mattress of their bed to wrap his arms around him, placates him with kisses to his forehead and cheeks, "because it means your body's working hard to take care of the baby. You're growing our pup, my love, it's okay."

Hongjoong sniffles, contemplating Yunho's words before he turns to hide his face in Yunho's neck, nuzzling him. "Do you still love me even though I have no ankles?"

"I love you no matter what, Joongie, because you're my mate and you love me, and you protect me. And we're going through this together, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

Yunho is usually the one asking about sincerity of love, not Hongjoong. Yunho is usually the one hiding in hugs and nuzzles and kisses, asking for affirmations with ridiculous reasonings, and Hongjoong is usually the one going along with it and promising the moon and all that its light touches.

It doesn't mean that Yunho doesn't make the same promises, it doesn't mean he loves Hongjoong any less than Hongjoong loves him. One is simply more in need of that reminder, the other is happy to sound like a stuck record for the rest of their lives, if it means their happiness.

"I'm sorry I'm so emotional…"

"Shhh, don't ever be sorry," Yunho hums, angling his head down to rest his forehead against Hongjoong's, the both of them still wrapped up in each other's embrace—it's looking like they won't be leaving bed today—as Yunho laces their fingers together. "I'd rather you ask me and hear my words, know my truth, than leave things unsaid and fear the worst."

Hongjoong whines, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the sweetness of Yunho's words before he nuzzles him again in satisfaction, a contented sigh leaving his lips when he finally gets comfortable. Yunho smiles, happy to be the big spoon this time, and makes sure to tickle Hongjoong's neck with sweet kisses and playful nibbles on his earlobe, hand drifting to its usual resting place over Hongjoong's belly.

A little nudge against his palm makes both of them freeze. "Joong..?"

"Yu?"

"Was that—"

"I-I think s— oh!" Hongjoong gasps as it happens again; a flutter in his belly, just beneath Yunho's hand.

A kick.

Their baby's first kick.

"You, Kim Hongjoong, are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me in my life. You are giving me the greatest gift anyone could ever give; you're growing our pup, I get to be a father with you." Yunho smiles as he slides down the sheets to press kisses to Hongjoong's bump, right over where he'd felt those first kicks, and giggles as he receives many more in answer.

"And I will spend the rest of my life showing you, both of you, how precious that gift is to me."

~❈~

People always tell Hongjoong the same three things about the miracles of pregnancy and childbirth.

The magical bond between omega and pup and that closeness that can never again be replicated even after birth; the challenges of going through so many physical changes with your body and learning to love yourself for the literal miracle you perform over nine months; that moment when your pup is born, and you hold them for the first time, and you become a parent and every struggle, big and small, proved to have been worth it.

Nobody fucking told him of the exponential increase in his libido.

Nobody told him that 'horny' would be an understatement to the carnal desire that takes over his soul at the most random of times. Nobody told him that every waking moment (at least since reaching the twenty-two week mark just five days ago) would be consumed by thoughts of Yunho railing him into next week.

"—ngjoong?"

"Mm?" Hongjoong blinks back into focus, barely noticing the drool in the corner of his mouth as he remembers that he's peering over the back of the couch at where Yunho stands in the kitchen, one hand on his hip, the other lazily rubbing over his own baby bump that popped into existence two weeks ago—cute and small, the baby growing more towards his spine—as he waits for Hongjoong's answer to his question. "What was that, baby?"

A fond smile stretches across Yunho's lips, because he knows how bad Hongjoong's pregnancy brain is getting lately. While annoying most of the time, it seems to know to only clock in for domestic moments, allowing for many a cute, lost, faraway look in Hongjoong's eyes as his imagination drifts—a look that Yunho now has a few hundred pictures of because it's fucking adorable, how can he not!?

Unfortunately, pregnancy brain doesn't inform Yunho of his mate and their pup's dietary requirements of the day. "What would you like for dinner?"

"You."

If he'd moved any faster, Yunho would've given himself whiplash, the way he turns and then pivots back around with a wide-eyed stare. "What?"

Hongjoong's eyes shine with something far less innocent than the smile he gives as he repeats his request, crooking his finger for good measure.

He'd be a liar if Yunho admits he isn't immediately compelled to obey him. Hongjoong smiles, victorious, when Yunho comes within his reach and lets himself be pulled down, slowly, until he's kneeling in front of his mate with a besotted smile on his lips.

"Last time you looked at me like this, you knocked me up," Yunho muses, eyes dropping to, and lingering on, Hongjoong's lips.

Hongjoong makes a point to bite his bottom lip then, smirking at how Yunho's breath hitches with such a simple little motion. "Like what?" He leans in, drapes his arms over Yunho's shoulders.

"Like you're planning where you're gonna leave every little kiss, or the best place to leave a mark where I can't hide it, so everyone knows I'm yours…"

Tension is no stranger to them; Hongjoong feels Yunho's heartbeat racing against his pulse point on his neck, hears how his breathing trembles from their proximity, sees how his gaze can't stay in one place and flickers instead between his lips and his eyes. It truly is only a matter of seconds before his self-control turns to selfish intention, and upon feeling two large hands travelling up his thighs to cradle his belly, Hongjoong arches his body into Yunho's, choosing to lose the battle as he closes the distance to slam his lips against his in a searing kiss.

If Hongjoong had thought his hormones were going haywire… Yunho's perfectly matched.

Moans and whimpers play like music in Yunho's ears as he sits back on his heels and carefully pulls Hongjoong into his lap, guides him to wrap his legs around his waist before breaking the lip lock to instead blaze a trail of desperate kisses along his jaw, down his neck. A hand comes up to shove the fabric of Hongjoong's oversized shirt off his shoulder to continue along his collarbone, marking and biting all the while if only to hear that sweet melody of breathy moans and gasps entirely unique to Hongjoong.

Hongjoong, in return, does his best not to drag his nails down Yunho's back, but it proves difficult when every press of Yunho's lips against his skin feels like he's on fire. He can barely think, his mind, his body, his soul is consumed by Yunho—he wants, he needs to be closer to him, to feel him against him, inside him, worshipping him.

"Y-Yu— mmh! Baby," Hongjoong has to bite his lip hard to keep from mewling as Yunho sucks a fresh love bite into a particularly sweet spot on his neck. "Wait, wait…"

"What's wrong?" Yunho pulls back to check him over, and Hongjoong almost cries at the loss of warmth. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, you didn't," Hongjoong cups his face gently, "I just wanted to see you… ask you something."

"Anything at all, baby. What is it?"

Rather than words, Hongjoong is careful to reposition himself on Yunho's lap, only giving his answer in the form of a smirk when his ass is pressing down on Yunho's cock, their bodies slotting together perfectly; two puzzle pieces, meant to compliment each other in the greatest way, even with both omegas round with pups and more randy than rabbits in heat.

No words need to be said for Hongjoong to tell Yunho what he wants.

And fuck, does Yunho spoil his mate with all that he desires.

~❈~

Hongjoong had had no idea.

He prides himself on being a good mate to Yunho; taking care of him when he's sick, making sure he knows he's loved every single day, supporting him through their losses in their four-year journey of trying to grow their family. It was the one thing he'd vowed when asking Yunho to be his mate.

I will never let you feel alone in anything.

For six years, he'd kept his promise. But this, he'd failed.

All this time, he'd figured Yunho was just making sure the pup he carries is strong and healthy, what with the pharmacy level of vitamins and supplements Yunho took every single morning. Hongjoong takes some too, but not nearly as many as Yunho does.

Only to learn that grief is why Yunho does this, grief is what controls the paranoia he's housed and suffered through alone for the last thirty-one weeks, taking vitamin after vitamin, supplement after supplement, going through diet after diet and taking homeopathic remedies whenever he could, rather than go to Jongho for any worries.

Grief. Suppressed grief for their lost pups.

Silence had never been something Hongjoong liked to come home to. He hates silence, when he's uninformed; anticipated silence, he can tolerate, but not the silence that greets him when he comes home from his weekly foot massage, bringing home a bag of Yunho's favourite snacks as a treat for him.

Silence and sniffles.

"Yunho?"

The living room is empty, the kitchen holds only a mug of the ginger tea on the counter, the steam rising from it deeming it to be freshly made. The bathroom door is open and clean, Yunho isn't showering.

The bedroom door is closed. The lack of light under the door tells Hongjoong the curtains are drawn, and he would have assumed Yunho to likely be sleeping off a rare migraine. But he hears sniffles through the wood. Broken, but muffled.

Yunho is crying.

"Yu?" Hongjoong knocks thrice, cracks the door open to spy the silhouette on the bed, back turned to him, under the sheets, shaking with sobs. "Yuyu, it's me," He walks around the bed, sits on the edge of the far side, reaches a hand out to what he knows to be Yunho's shoulder.

Yunho stills.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Yunho is slow to pull the sheets down until his head pokes out, and Hongjoong's heart breaks at the sight; sickly pallor, tearstains streaking down his face, eyes swollen and red from many minutes of crying, possibly even hours. "I-I can't do it…"

"Can't do what, baby?" Hongjoong coaxes, twists his heavily pregnant body to better lean down and kiss Yunho's tears away in the hopes that the tender gesture will make him smile.

No such luck. "I can't… be perfect anymore."

Hongjoong doesn't try to hide his confusion. "What do you mean, you can't be perfect anymore? You're always perfect, Yuyu, to me—"

"Stop it, Hongjoong. Stop."

The sternness in Yunho's voice, the coldness of it, is what hurts most. Not the words. Then it's how Yunho sits up, baby bump just as prominent as Hongjoong's now, and swings his legs over the side of the bed and heaves himself to his feet, leaving the room and heading to the kitchen.

Hongjoong follows, once he's back on his own feet. "I-I don't understand—"

"From fucking day one, you've moaned and complained about your pregnancy and your symptoms," Yunho explains, staggered by sniffles as he cleans up his face and stifles his runny nose, erases all physical evidence of his tears except for that in his eyes, "and I've just sat by and listened. Every fucking day. Your morning sickness, your fatigue, your cravings, your aversions. Swelling, heartburn, hot flashes, edemas—I'm sick of it!" His voice builds with each sentence, anger filling each word until he whirls around and flings his arms out in frustration. "I've been nothing but perfect for you, and said nothing about my struggles with this because you have it so much worse!"

"What struggles? Yunho, you haven't—"

"YOU GOT PREGNANT ON THE FIRST FUCKING TRY!!" Yunho screams, throat hoarse, voice cracking, and it finally dawns on Hongjoong. "You had your transfer without really caring, Hongjoong, and you got pregnant on the first try. I know you care, but you didn't care like I cared. You tried just because you thought maybe it'd be different with a different carrier. You never wanted to carry, until we decided this," Yunho gestures between the two of them, "would be our last shot. I tried for us for years, and it never worked. I lost them, Joong. I lost our pups, I had them and I lost them. They were always our pups to me, not just… we made them, Joongie, they were ours. I never let myself… because…"

"You never grieved them properly…" Hongjoong finishes, tears streaking his own face now as he walks over to Yunho, gently grabs his hands. "Because we always went to try again…"

The little nod that Yunho gives pulls a sob from Hongjoong, before he cradles his mate in his arms as Yunho breaks, his burden finally shared and garbled apologies barely reaching Hongjoong's ears as he shushes and soothes Yunho. The ginger tea still sits on the counter, lukewarm now, and Hongjoong reaches for it before placing it in Yunho's hands as he leads him over to the couch. They sit, and Hongjoong leans his head on Yunho's shoulder, feeling Yunho moments later leaning his head down onto Hongjoong's.

"You don't have to be perfect. You never did." Hongjoong plays with Yunho's fingers as he speaks. "But we need to work together. We're a team. Not a perfect one, but one that can lean on each other. Okay?"

Yunho nods, weakly, and Hongjoong takes the chance to press a sweet kiss to Yunho's knuckles. He'd always known grief to be a powerful thing. But he'd never known how powerful, until it affected his own family.

In Yunho, it grew with each pup they lost, whether embryo or foetus. Never properly processed, in fear it would consume him, and so it had been pushed aside, suppressed, with each cycle. It grew stronger when Hongjoong fell pregnant, and mutated into paranoia when discovering himself to be pregnant. Paranoia of losing another pup, or both. And so the compulsion to take control of his own health: vitamins, supplements, homeopathic medicine in addition to the necessary scans and other standard tests.

And with Hongjoong's multitude of symptoms, Yunho had pushed it down again to be there for his mate. To make sure he'd never be alone, that he'd always have support.

But as he holds Yunho now, and they both hold a hand over their own belly as well as their mate's, feeling their pups kick and show their presence in their own way, Hongjoong vows to himself, to his family:

You will never be alone in anything.

~❈~

Yunho had cried himself to sleep in Hongjoong's arms that night, whimpers and quiet sobs leaving his lips and yet not a single word, not one apology. Hongjoong doesn't mind; he knows that Yunho apologises better with actions rather than words, feels that words are only as good as the actions you promise within them.

Even then, Hongjoong wouldn't have accepted an apology. Yunho had nothing to apologise for.

Hongjoong had been foolish to think that Yunho's pain had only ever been surface level, easily processed and then filed away to be forgotten. He'd always known how much deeper Yunho handles emotions, how little upset he displays, how strongly he feels pain.

How had he not seen Yunho's suffering all this time?

He startles at a sleepy hum from Yunho as he stirs, nuzzles his nose into the crook of Hongjoong's neck as he snuggles closer. Hongjoong, in turn, readjusts his hold as he answers with a tender nuzzle of his own to Yunho's temple, careful not to lean too heavily against him and risk waking him up.

His head is spinning. All that Yunho had revealed, his struggles, his fear, his unprocessed grief and resulting paranoia—it all made sense.

Hongjoong had been too caught up in his own misery, his own pregnancy, and unknowingly slamming guilt down on Yunho's shoulders for how supposedly stress-free his pregnancy seems to be, how fortune finally smiled on him and gave him next to no worries. Hongjoong had been utterly blind to it all, instead whining constantly about his randomised cravings and aversions, his swelling, his nausea, heartburn, hot flashes; Yunho had taken it in his stride, bit his tongue and grinned, chosen to keep his worries to himself so as not to add to the pressure on his mate's shoulders, he had been utterly selfless.

He looks down at Yunho now, and watches how he stirs in his sleep, snuggles closer to Hongjoong, buries his nose in the crook of his neck as one hand cradles his belly protectively, as always.

"I'm sorry I didn't see," Hongjoong whispers, "I'm sorry for being so selfish… I don't have excuses, but I'm not looking for them. I'm just… sorry." He cranes his neck down to kiss the apple of Yunho's cheek, his favourite spot to kiss because of the pretty pink blush that always blooms there, even after six years. "I want to be better. I'll pay better attention, I promise. I'll notice everything. I'll learn their different cries and do all the night feeds, I'll bring them to the nest for cuddles, I'll buy all your favourite snacks that you couldn't have while pregnant and keep a secret stash, just for you." He barely manages to keep quiet as the last thought makes him giggle, remembering how Yunho always claims they'll be the first things he'll eat once he's not pregnant anymore.

"We'll go spend a weekend in Gwangju, yeah? When the pups are big enough for longer car rides, we'll pack up and go stay with your parents for a week or two, and we'll go see all your favourite places growing up," he adds, "because we never got around to that as just the two of us, did we?"

He goes on, talks long into the night, about adventures they'd planned together and never seen through, cheesy date ideas they'd wanted to try out and determine which one was the most cringy, countries abroad they'd aspired to visit one day and why. At some point, he goes from talking to Yunho, to talking to their pups, telling them all about their Appa Yuyu and how amazing he is, and how Appa Joongie needs to remember how lucky he is to have him as his mate.

Hongjoong never notices how Yunho's breathing changes at around 2am, and he listens to his mate with a sleepy grin on his face, knowing now that Hongjoong had always been there to catch him after he fell.

~❈~

"It's not in the sink!"

"Then check the utility room again!"

Hongjoong bites back a growl of annoyance. "I've already checked there! Twice!!"

"Then check again!!" Yunho snaps over the pencil in his mouth as he measures the wall. "I am not starting any painting in this room until you find the roller brush for the ceiling!"

"Then I'll just go down to the shop and get another one!" Hongjoong whines, returning to the barren nursery to pout at his mate. "Yuyu, we need to get this nursery done; the kids can't sleep in our bedroom forever!"

"And absolutely no way in hell are you spending another small fortune on one of those things," Yunho shakes his head, writes the measurement on his little scrap of paper before stepping down from the stepladder to pull Hongjoong into his arms and press a placating kiss to his pout. "I'll go take a look myself, okay? I might have put it away on a high shelf,"

"You asshole."

"You love me."

Hongjoong would've sassed back, but he's interrupted by twin cries from the bedroom. "Paws off, your children are hungry."

"Our children, babe; we both carried them." Yunho laughs, nodding and releasing him from his grasp only after a playful nibble to Hongjoong's earlobe, quick to dodge a scolding smack on his butt as he goes off in search of the disappearing roller brush, leaving Hongjoong to roll his eyes in fond exasperation.

Another piercing shriek has him entering his and Yunho's bedroom, approaching the three cribs by the far wall and leaning over the edge of the closest one to tend to the crying infant.

"Now, now, why all the fuss, my love?"

Unofficial triplets had not been on either omega's radar when they'd both gone into labour almost two and a half months ago; six weeks after bearing his soul to Hongjoong and reconciling to better communicate with each other, Yunho had gone into labour at thirty-seven weeks, just reaching full term, and after twenty-five hours of labour, giving birth to a gorgeous baby girl that they had named Seojin. Hongjoong had been smitten right from the start—Yunho likes to think he would've cried as much as he had even without pregnancy throwing his hormones out of whack—and was wrapped around Seojin's tiny baby finger within two minutes of her birth, hopelessly devoted to their little girl and promising to scare off every horrible romantic partner in the future.

Of course, Yunho had been the emotional wreck just three weeks later, when Hongjoong went into labour at the full forty weeks and proceeded to be labouring for almost thirty hours before giving birth to surprise twin boys—a more logical explanation for Hongjoong's ridiculously large baby bump than his accusations of one singular, Yunho-sized baby—and promptly causing Yunho to faint, as he hadn't prepared to be promoted to father-of-three in the three minutes between Sungjin, their firstborn son, and Sungho, their surprise. Nonetheless, both babies had Yunho under their spell within seconds of him holding them for the very first time, and joining forces with their sister had both parents whipped in no time at all.

"Sungho-yah~" Hongjoong sings, smiling as his son begins to quieten down almost immediately; of course, he'd just wanted a cuddle. "Oh love, did you just miss Appa?" Sungho coos happily, no doubt proud of himself for luring his Appa to his side so quickly. "You're going to disturb your brother and sister if you keep doing that, sweetheart."

Hongjoong giggles, presses a gentle kiss to his son's head and proceeds to gently bounce him in his arms, humming under his breath. He watches for a few minutes, admiring how Sungho valiantly tries to stay awake rather than succumb to the soft singing, before his eyes close with a final coo and his tiny hand grips at Hongjoong's shirt, practically daring him to try put him back down and expect him to stay sleeping.

If someone had come up to Hongjoong this time last year, and told him he'd be the proud, somewhat still emotional, father of three beautiful pups alongside his mate, he'd have never believed them.

Now, with one tiny life clutching his shirt in his sleep, Hongjoong can only think about how important it was that he and Yunho never gave up on their dream, especially when given low chance.

Their chance had been low, but never zero.