Expecting
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author's notes (A/N)
Sort of inspired by radiany's August. Sort of rough and I like it that way. Written in less than an hour. Implied yaoi. T-rated.
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one (1)
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"It's bound to fail again," he muttered over his untouched cup of coffee. "It's failed so many times now." Seto was not being pessimistic when he stated this. He was afraid.
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two (2)
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Mokuba calmly watched him pace in their office. He'd always known when something was amiss with his brother. "Don't even think about calling it off, Seto," he warned. The elder froze in place, as if he'd been caught red-handed.
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three (3)
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"I can't. I can't." He refused to look at Jou in the eye, staring obstinately at the ceiling. "Hey," Jou called out softly. Seto shut his eyes as if slightly in pain. "Hey," the blond murmured this time, grazing his lips against Seto's jawline. "You're not alone in this."
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four (4)
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It was decided that Shizuka would move in with them. The private nurse was nice. The private doctor was extra nice. When Jou came up to her to apologize for the bedridden life she was sometimes being prescribed, she'd assure him that "it's okay, there's many books I've been wanting to read."
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five (5)
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Jou took it upon himself to rekindle their flame, surprising a distressed Seto in his office, in the middle of the day, in his working clothes. A crinkle in a pocket. A translucent plastic sheet between Jou's triumphant fingers. "Is that the ultrasound?" A surge of blood to Seto's cheeks.
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six (6)
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Brother and sister standing in a big blank room, arguing. He wanted blue, she wanted white; she wanted dim and he wanted light. "I'm calling a decorator," announced Seto with finality, breaking up the fight.
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seven (7)
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"You really should try talking to her," suggested Jou for the umpteenth time. For all answer a patient Seto simply kissed the edge of his lover's ribs, his navel, his hipbone, and that softness that never failed to quiet Jou's babble.
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eight (8)
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The hands of the once ruthless CEO quivered at the touch of white fleece. "I can't be a father," he blurted out in the middle of the baby clothing store. Mokuba's hands darted to clasp his brother's. "You can't say that," he stated firmly. "Look at me, Seto. Look at me."
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nine (9)
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When he was sure nobody else was looking, Seto reluctantly knelt before the bloated expanse of skin. "Go ahead," Shizuka encouraged from beyond the hem of the shirt she was holding up. "Just say whatever comes to mind." He turned to place his ear against her belly. "Hello," he started tentatively. "Hello, baby."