dog days are over

some people want diamond rings, some just want everything

9th week of pregnancy.

Before this whole incident began, Mori once believed the worst thing on Earth he could be was physically sick. Unfortunately, he's discovered that that assessment is completely incorrect.

The worst thing on Earth he can be — and it's just his luck that he is right now — is pregnant.

He decides to thank whichever one of the gods has decided to take pity on him today, because the previous night he was given the foresight to drag one of the unused pots in his love's home to bed with him, and now it's coming in handy.

Once he's finished dry heaving into the pot (god dammit, he'll have to scrub this thing like a madman later if it's ever going to be used again, he realizes with a groan), Mori turns his miserable gaze to the digital clock he brought with him from his place and that now sits on the bedside table. It's three in the morning. He hasn't slept since ten A.M. the previous morning. He's supposed to meet with his subordinates in the morning to explain this whole situation to them.

Perhaps I should reconsider thanking any gods today, Mori thinks bitterly, because clearly, they do not really have that much care for me.

Sighing heavily, and deciding he needs to try to get whatever small scraps of sleep he can, Mori lets his head drop to the pillow, closing his eyes as he half-shoves his face into it. Fukuzawa's bed is more comfortable when he's miserable and just trying to sleep, he thinks, than when the two of them have gone at it before.

Perhaps it's ironic that he's laying here, sick as a dog, in misery, and begging for sleep, when one of the previous times he's been in this bed is the reason for his current situation. Maybe it's because he's just that good of a sport, but Mori himself chuckles at the (probably very late, but oh well) revelation he's just made.

Immediately after that, there's the sound of the front door to the home unlocking. Out of pure instinct, Mori tenses and reaches over on the beside table where he's kept his scalpels ( just in case ), but all of his tension dissipates when he recognizes the familiar patterns of Fukuzawa's footsteps.

Feeling safe... isn't a feeling Mori thinks he'll be able to fully relax into any time soon, but he'll be damned if it doesn't feel good even now. That, and he's grateful — even though Fukuzawa pestered him until he agreed to come and stay with him for the time being — for the moments like these, when his love lays down next to him in bed and holds him close, gently stroking his hair and resting his free hand on his belly.

"It's late," Mori murmurs, gently resting his arm on top of the one Fukuzawa's curled around his midsection.

He feels the other man nod into the nape of his neck. "Mhm," Fukuzawa answers. Even now, there's only just the tiniest hint that he might possibly be tired in his voice, though Mori knows that it has to have been just as long since he himself slept that Fukuzawa has too, given that they sleep together now.

"You got held up again with a case?"

"You could say that."

"Mm. Are you going to tell me about it, or shall I guess?" Mori tilts his head a little over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with the slightest hint of mischief. Fukuzawa shifts a little so that he can look at him too, and now Mori can clearly see the bags under his eyes. "I see you haven't been sleeping either, love."

"There is nothing to worry about with regards to myself," Fukuzawa murmurs. Mori can tell he's trying to deflect, to downplay any worries Mori might be having about him, and perhaps he'd be more offended if he didn't know that this was just how Fukuzawa is normally. He almost certainly does it with everyone at the ADA as well, and he's certainly never been romantic with any of them. "I've been... busy with personal matters. Doing some studying ."

" Studying ?" Mori repeats, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "Studying what , pray tell?"

Fukuzawa goes quiet for a moment, pressing his face back into the nape of Mori's neck, only this time in a feeble attempt to hide the flush of his face. "... I got some parenting books, from the library. I made sure no one saw, but I... they felt necessary."

It's ridiculous, Mori thinks, how his heart flutters at that, considering all he's been through... all the two of them have been through together as well. But there's another, smaller part of him which understands and recognizes the sweetness behind the gesture, behind Fukuzawa's words.

After all, he would have never done the same, and he didn't, either. Not that any of it was surprising.

"I'd hardly think so, in your case," Mori says, his voice growing softer. "After all, I'm sure that most of those at the Agency would consider you a father figure to them."

Fukuzawa inhales a sharp little breath, as though that were unexpected, and it crosses Mori's mind that well, maybe it was. "... you think so?" He finally says after a moment.

"I'm quite positive on that front," Mori replies, a yawn making itself known before he can stifle it. "Sorry, I've - been worse than usual, tonight -" Not just tonight, but there's no need to make Fukuzawa worry about something he can't stop. Besides, Mori's words are, unfortunately, quickly failing him as nausea rises in his chest and up his throat as well, so he quickly (and blindly) reaches for the pot again, curling around it as he leans over it with a soft whine.

He only just barely notices Fukuzawa reaching to hold his hair back as he coughs up nothing but bile, but he does notice, and allows himself to believe that the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes can just as easily be attributed to his hormones and not the warmth he feels from that action alone.

As soon as he can, Mori rests his head back on the pillow, and as soon as Fukuzawa puts his arms around him again, he's cuddling into them as quickly as he can, taking the comfort he's offered. "I'm sorry if I've ruined your -" He starts to say, before being gently cut off by Fukuzawa once again gently nuzzling into the nape of his neck.

"Don't start apologizing for things that don't need apologies," he says quietly. "It's quite alright. What you should do is let your subordinates know you'll need another day."

Mori sighs. "I don't believe that will look very good to anyone on the outside looking in."

"And I believe you are underestimating the influence you have," Fukuzawa replies, his voice still soft, quiet both with sleep and with the knowledge he's trying to impart on his love. "Your health is more important right now, anyway."

In the end, Fukuzawa wins, and telling the subordinates is an ordeal which waits an extra day (though, honestly, their reactions are far more exhausting even than the morning sickness, in Mori's opinion).