A/N: I never would've figured that my first MiyuSawa fanfic would be omegaverse mpreg O_O
Usually I stay away from mpreg fics in other fandoms, but there's something alluring about MiyuSawa mpreg (I'm blaming the Single Mother Eijun dj for this *lol*)

Far away from his hometown, into the city of Tokyo, Eijun couldn't help but feel out of his depth.

As though she sensed his disquiet, Wakana squeezed his hand, giving him a glimpse of a barely-there smile, and Eijun swallowed down the lump that had grown in his throat.

She looked down at the drawn map held in her other hand, then nodded at the building in front of them.

"This is it," she said, and gave his hand another squeeze.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as his eyes roved over the name surrounded by colourful matinee lights before he turned back to her. "You're coming with me, right?" He just needed the confirmation.

"You know I am. I'm with you every step of the way." A pause. "Well, almost every step of the way."

Eijun squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes. Then, opening them, uttered, "Let's go." Releasing her hand, knowing she was following close behind, he stepped through the open doorway beneath the brightly lit sign.

This is it, he thought.

This is for us.

Inside, it was mostly dark save for the flickering strobe lights above, and murky. It was musty with the smell of alcohol and various perfumes. Music pounded through the walls and the floor. People mingled: undulating bodies on the dance floor or gathered at the tables and chairs set near the walls.

Eijun's wide-eyed gaze swept through the room, not really knowing where to look, or even how to find what he was supposed to be looking for, only that he was told this was one of the places for it.

Wakana poked him in the back, cupping a hand near her mouth so he could hear her as she yelled into his ear, "Let's get something to drink!" She pointed to the bar. Eijun nodded, complying, letting her lead.

An hour later, he was still nursing his drink, Wakana once in a while tapping his shoulder to draw his attention to someone she had been checking out. Eijun felt his ears heat at her nearness, wishing they were there for entirely different reasons, sidelong gold gaze drifting to the two rings tinkling together on a chain around her neck.

For us, he repeated to himself. We're doing this for us.

Feeling (not quite there, but getting there) resolved, he downed what remained of his drink in one gulp, wincing at the burn of it going down his throat, then turned his head around to look at the figure she had been pointing.

Frowning, Eijun sized up the figure in question, then turned back to her, shaking his head. Whatever it was he was supposed to sense was just not there, not after several different men that she had picked as the one likely. But then again, this was the first time they were doing this kind of thing, so maybe the both of them simply did not know how to know if any man was the right one, more so Wakana than Eijun though. He was told, being what he was, that he would have the instinct for it.

And then, Eijun felt his breath catch.

He felt the hair at the back of his neck rise.

Even without turning, he could feel the pull. There was someone who had just entered the bar, and suddenly Eijun knew without a shadow of doubt that whoever this person was that had just come in, this was it.

But it was almost too easy. Is that really how simple this is? he couldn't help asking himself.

Before he knew it, he had turned around, taking in the man across the room, all smirk and spectacles, broad-shouldered and brown-haired.

Eijun couldn't help biting his lip, feeling a pull low in his belly, knowing from the heat that was suddenly emanating from him that his face and the rest of him were flushed. He signaled to the bartender to top up his glass, knowing he needed the liquid courage if he was really going to go through with it.

Eijun knew exactly what made this man different from the others Wakana had previously pointed to before. He could almost feel his blood singing, the excited thrum low in his belly traveling to his groin, felt the telltale moisture between his legs. He felt the hair at the back of his neck stand, prickling and tickling through his already throbbing nerve-endings, feeling the man's gaze land on him as though the man had sensed him, had sensed what he was, had sensed the heat of his body that he could barely hold in check.

Eijun felt Wakana's touch on his wrist. Go for it, she seemed to say. When Eijun turned to her, she was avoiding his gaze as she ran a finger on the rim of her glass. With a nod, he rose, leaving her at the bar with his abandoned drink.

Tonight, you're not yourself, he thought. You're someone else.

Just for tonight.

The stranger's name, he learned in the space of a kiss and a sigh, was Miyuki. Miyuki Kazuya.

Having never done this before, at least with a man, his body trembled. The moans that issued from him sounded different: more needy, hoarse, higher, louder. They were strangers so there was an awkwardness in their touches, and he couldn't help the comparisons that were running through his mind. Miyuki's lips weren't as soft. His hands were rough, more calloused, his skin wasn't as smooth, and the curves and planes of his body were different from what Eijun was used to. For the first time, it was Eijun who'd had to tilt his head back simply to meet someone's lips in a kiss. For the first time, it was him who'd had to spread his thighs and feel someone enter him, making him feel as though he was being hollowed out even as he was being filled.

Lost in the throes, he clutched at Miyuki, legs coiled around his hips, fingers entangled in his hair, teeth biting his shoulder, marking him.

Lost in the throes, Eijun couldn't even begin to imagine just what that last act could mean. He was too enthralled at the way his body accommodated Miyuki, the ebb and break of their movements, the weight of Miyuki's kiss and hands, the sound of his voice; that part inside of Eijun that Miyuki kept grazing with each thrust.

Even as he came, spilling streams of white fluid over both their stomachs, he couldn't help but clutch at Miyuki, feeling breathless, wanting to move away from him and at the same time pull him closer. Brows furrowed, he couldn't help letting out a loud moan of pain as he felt himself being further stretched out, in disbelief as he felt as though Miyuki seemed to grow even larger inside him, making Eijun feel all the more opened, all the more spread and speared.

It felt as though it lasted for hours, but for all Eijun knew, only mere seconds passed. Was this what "knotting" was? he idly wondered. If so, then mission accomplished: what he came here for was achieved, then, wasn't it?

It was when the sky was beginning to lighten with the coming sun that Eijun finally made his way back to his hotel room, backside smarting from the night's activities it had undergone.

He found Wakana in bed, asleep, with dried tear-tracks down her cheeks. His heart scrunching inside his chest at the sight, tentatively he sat down at the edge of the bed, flinching a bit as his butt touched the mattress, hand reaching out to stroke Wakana's hair.

Before his touch could land, her eyes opened, and he found himself hesitating, unsure if she would welcome him after what he'd just done.

"Welcome back," she whispered, reaching up and cupping his hand, pulling it down to lean against her cheek, and he felt his chest swell.

"I'm home," he said, voice tremulous and eyes watering.

He watched her throat work as she thought of what to say next, her other hand reaching out to touch his chest, feeling the nervous beat of his heart. Trailing her hand down to his stomach, his abdominals jumped at her touch, and he almost wanted to move away, feeling ashamed, even though they both wanted this.

"Well, then?" she finally managed, softly, expectantly.

Eijun closed his eyes and nodded, entangling his other hand with hers over his stomach.

"We're going to have a baby," he said.

When his Omega parent was still alive, he used to tell Kazuya about how his parents used to grumble about times changing too much too soon. It wasn't that long ago that Alphas and Omegas formed nuclear families, following through as biology dictated, the Omegas succumbing to the call of their heat cycles as is—none of these heat control pills, which therefore led to people having more sexual freedom, and then choosing to be with Betas instead of with Alphas as nature supposedly intended.

Kazuya, who was born an Alpha, didn't really mind so much. Anyone could love whoever they wanted, regardless of whether they were Alpha or Beta or Omega. An Alpha being with a Beta or an Omega being with a Beta simply meant they didn't have to worry about having unwanted children too soon; all they would really need to worry about were STDs, which could still unfortunately be shared between the three.

And then, of course, there was still the biological incompatibility between Alphas or Omegas with Betas when it came to having children. The Betas developed artificial insemination for themselves when a Beta couple couldn't have children. An Omega and a Beta together, however, required the actual assistance of an Alpha during intercourse since it was the enzymes excreted from an Alpha's knot that enabled impregnation to happen during an Omega's heat.

Now, in this day and age where love between the three were as free as they didn't used to be, agencies had been set up so that Omega and Beta couples or Alpha and Beta couples could find someone who would be willing donors for them when they wanted to start their families. Kazuya even had some acquaintances who worked in such agencies. It wasn't unheard of, though, that most couples skip going through the agencies as the process of finding someone compatible could be rather arduous and lengthy.

Kazuya had heard of Alphas who had become unwitting and unwilling parents due to impatient couples.

And now Kazuya found himself joining the club.

Kazuya just knew – as he sat up, head groggy and body still tingling, noting how the other side of the bed was conspicuously empty and cold – that something he hadn't intended to happen actually occurred. Rising and walking over to the adjoining bathroom, grabbing his glasses from the end table along the way, he peered at his reflection in the mirror and inspected the prickling wound on his shoulder.

His nostrils flared as he exhaled deeply.

So, not only was he used like some sort of breeding horse, he was marked as well.

Oh, there'd be hell to pay.

Thanks for reading :)
January/2016