Big kisses to FloraOne, chicka-flick, karseneau1, QueenHatsuneMiku, jessielee14, CassieRaven, Nebelflecke, eskalations and Nat. Thanks for reviewing! Each one was savored and cherished!
It's amazing to me how quickly this chapter wrote itself when I spent weeks toiling away on the last one. When I first saw the list of prompts on this challenge, my mind was abuzz with ideas. Some were, and still are, only half-formulated. But this chapter was one of the earliest to be plotted out in my head. It just played out so clearly to me. I was done in nearly an hour. I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
P.S. So. How much do I suck at making "short" drabbles? xP
The Bun-Head in the Oven
Prompt: "Never"
"Man, what a night! We need to do this again sometime," Motoki said, clapping Mamoru on the back in the hallway outside the latter's apartment. "Before, you know, you're arms deep in dirty diapers and baby spit-up!"
Mamoru chuckled, stumbling a moment on his feet when Motoki's hand connected, but that did nothing to dissuade his good cheer. Which probably had something to do with the round of drinks they just downed at the local pub earlier that evening. "What, you don't think it'll be a good look on me?"
Motoki grinned toothily. "I think it'll be a great look on you. You pull off 'harried housewife' so well."
Mamoru punched his best friend in the shoulder, giving a raucous scoffing noise. "Jerk."
Motoki smirked in response, but then his face softened. "I mean it though. You'll make one hell of a papa. No child would be luckier."
Mamoru quieted at that pronouncement. He swallowed thickly.
"Thanks, buddy. You've no idea how reassuring that is to hear," he said around the golf ball in his throat. Motoki smiled, generously patting the man once more.
"No problem, Mamoru-kun. Now, I think it's best I head out before this moment gets any more sappy. I'm sure your lovely wife is anxiously awaiting your return as we speak!" Motoki jerked his head toward the apartment door. "Give Usagi-chan my love!"
"And mine to Reika-chan's," Mamoru replied politely. Then a devilish gleam entered his periwinkle-hued eyes, just as Motoki began to amble a touch unsteadily over to the elevator. "I wonder if she has any idea how well you table-dance whenever 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' comes on?"
The horrified look in Motoki's eyes when he turned back was priceless.
"You wouldn't!" he gasped, aghast.
"I would, if you ever compare me to a 'harried housewife' again," Mamoru rebutted smoothly. He cocked an amused brow as Motoki gave a theatrical shudder, then ducked into the elevator.
"You drive a hard bargain, Chiba-kun!" the sandy blonde called out. "Have you been practicing your blackmail techniques? If I were your little girl's future boyfriend, I would not want to find myself on your bad side!"
Mamoru laughed heartily as the doors slid shut on his best friend. The man was a basket case, there was nothing else about it, Mamoru decided with cheerful affection. He stuck his key into the appropriate hole with only mild difficulty, seeing as the world was still pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. While not exorbitant by any means, he regardless had indulged rather more heavily than he initially intended to... Motoki had that effect on people!
Mamoru yawned widely as he entered the domicile. He was a bit surprised to find the lights still on. It was pretty late - eleven o'clock, at least. Pregnancy made Usagi very tired, and usually, she would've been in bed hours ago.
"Usako? Are you up?" Mamoru called, in hushed tones, just in case she wasn't. He hung his coat and peeked into the living room.
"Usako?"
No answer. He was beginning to think she merely forgot to turn off the lights before retiring for the night when he found Usagi in the kitchen, sitting at the counter, slumped over a steaming mug of hot cocoa.
"There you are," Mamoru sighed, with maybe the minutest stirrings of relief. He was embarrassed to admit it, but lately, whenever she wasn't within his sight, he got nervous. Inordinately nervous. Which was probably why he was such an easy lush tonight.
Mamoru stepped into the kitchen and immediately noticed the change in the air. He half-considered stepping back out - slowly, with hands up. Especially when Usagi huffed loudly.
"You're home late."
Mamoru blinked at the waspish quality of her voice. He side-eyed the clock, which - yep, as he assumed - read eleven o'clock. On the dot.
"Erm. I'm back when I said I would be?" Mamoru parried, supplicatingly, feeling wrong-footed and confused as to why he should be feeling that way. It wasn't like his 'guys night' with Motoki occurred without her direct permission. She encouraged it, even!
Usagi seemed to fumble for words at that, frozen in the face of logic, but she was clearly still stewing. Mamoru glanced into her cup, and was shocked to see it completely full, the hot liquid steeped to the brim. He looked up at her.
"Is... something bothering you? It's not like you to leave something sweet untouched!"
"Nothing's the matter," Usagi answered promptly; stiffly.
"Usako," Mamoru said, a light scold that accompanied two eyebrows disappearing into his hair line. It was a tone that implied he knew very well that she was lying to him. She stared coolly, adopting a defensive stance upon the stool, but even despite her show of bravado, he could see that his wife was struggling to remain stoic.
Mamoru approached very gingerly, like one would an injured bird. When he got close enough, he reached out and laid his hands over Usagi's, which were still clutching the mug like a lifeline to composure.
"Usako. Please. Talk to me."
His heartfelt pleading (and probably the sneaky inclusion of puppy dog eyes, she never could resist those) seemed to do the trick, for Usagi broke at last.
"Why would you talk to me when you can talk to any of the other pretty girls at the bar?" she snapped, knuckles going white as she hugged the mug ever tighter.
Ah, he could see where this was leading. "Honey, I didn't talk to any girls at the bar. Well, unless you count Motoki-kun."
Usagi ignored Mamoru's attempt at humor, sniffing, "I'm not stupid. I know what men do at bars!"
Mamoru wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her claims. Infidelity was not something Usagi would ever have to worry about from him! "That's what this is about? Oh Usako. Motoki-kun and I are both very happily married. Neither of us have any interest in anyone else."
He patted her hand like that was the end of it, but far from mollified, Usagi's face screwed up and she burst into unexpected tears. Mamoru blinked, flummoxed again, which was beginning to become the theme of the night. What did he say?
"Usako?" the man croaked, a desperate edge to his voice. He grabbed her cheeks and rubbed the pads of his thumbs over the dampened hollows of her eyes. Usagi leaned into his touch, hiccoughing for a few moments before she gathered her wits enough to speak.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I'm being horrible to you tonight. I just had a lot of time to think when I was alone in the apartment waiting for you, and I guess I fell into a dark headspace. I'm just... I'm just really scared," Usagi admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, and it issued in squeaks and stops as she continued to fight her overwrought emotions.
"What are you scared of?" Mamoru murmured back, all one hundred percent of his attention focused on her, hoping she could see how much he cared, how much he hurt when she was hurt.
Usagi averted her features, as if in shame, and some of that spilled into her next confession. "That as the baby grows, you'll find me less attractive. I feel so... so big and bloated now. I'm not- not pretty anymore, not like the girls at the bar probably were-"
"Now you stop right there," Mamoru said, gently but firmly. He placed one index against Usagi's lips for good measure. "That's the silliest notion I've ever heard!"
"It's true!" Usagi protested, in a garbled voice as she spoke around Mamoru's finger. Her cerulean blues welled over again. "I'm huge. I'm starting to not be able to see my feet anymore! Not that I'd want to! Because they're all gross and swollen!"
Mamoru removed his appendage; shifted closer. "You are twenty weeks pregnant, Usako. Halfway there. This is all to be expected. I thought you loved being pregnant?"
"I- I do," Usagi conceded, amidst another bout of sniffles. "B-but I just k-kept thinking about all those g-girls in their skimpy little dresses dancing near you and Motoki-onee-chan, and I just felt... I just felt..."
Mamoru waited patiently for Usagi to sort through her internal fears, trying to give name to them.
"Ugly. Inadequate. Like you deserve better. Someone who doesn't waddle when they walk!"
Mamoru made an angsty growling noise in the back of his throat. He grabbed Usagi by the shoulders; started unconsciously kneading the protruding blades.
"You listen to me, my darling Bun-Head. Your body may be different now but it is because of a miracle. You are carrying my child inside you. How can anyone else compare? You have never been more beautiful to me. I don't know how it's possible, but watching you grow more and more into a mother every day has caused me to fall even deeper in love with you. I will never want any more than you, Usako. There is no one greater."
Usagi began to keen even more vociferously at that declaration, which Mamoru sealed with a very wet kiss. When he pulled back, and started carding his fingers softly through her hair, the blonde choked out a watery laugh.
"S-sorry. I don't know why I'm such a mess."
"Hormones," Mamoru pointed out promptly, an affectionate lilt to his response. "They do funny things to funny people."
"I guess s- heyy!"
Mamoru smirked.
"That's not funny!"
"Never said I was," the man shrugged cheerfully. "Now - why don't I make myself a cup of hot chocolate too, and we'll settle in with a late night movie, hmm?"
Usagi smiled, wiped her eyes, stood up. She slid her arm through Mamoru's. Big blue eyes looked up at him in adulation.
"You always know how to make me feel better, Mamo-chan."
And he knew there would never be a better compliment than that.
Next Prompt: "Nudge"