Colatum's Eddsworld Smut Drabbles

Long Nights (Binglarry mpreg)

"You know, stress like this could probably make you go into labor early." Larry hummed, taking a small bite of his own pastry.

"No it can't," Bing scoffed, finishing off his treat. He glamorously wiped his hands on his maternity jeans. "They'll come when they want, and that's that. Now let me work." Bing added a soft "Please," at the end to seem less harsh.

"Fine," Larry rolled his eyes. He stood up from the couch, giving Bing a kiss on the forehead. Bing wasn't satisfied with that, putting a hand on Larry's face to guide him lower. All of their momentary aggression was forgotten when their lips connected, curt and careful. Bing was too tired to offer more, though Larry could tell that he wanted to. "Night, Boss."

"Don't call me boss."

"Fine. Night, Bing."

Larry shuffled to their shared bedroom, knowing that Bing likely wouldn't join him there. It became routine to fetch him from the couch so he could sleep somewhere more comfortable. Poor bastard was already in pain from the weight of the triplets, and sleeping at odd angles only made Larry fear that his spine would snap like a coffee straw. Tired mornings were often spent with gentle massages and scolding, only for the schedule to repeat the next night. Larry often joked about Bing giving birth in their living room, because he never seemed to leave it. Larry stripped to an undershirt and boxers, and set an alarm for an hour from now, for when he would get his boyfriend from the couch.

And in an hour, just as predicted, Bing was out cold on the sofa. The bag of half a dozen doughnuts was cleared out and crumpled, and Bing himself still had a handful of papers strewn around his body, a pencil still behind his ear. He was sleeping on his back, with his arms crossed at the very start of his stomach, right below his chest. How he was able to breathe with the weight pressing into him was beyond Larry, but for once, his face looked calm - no furrowed brow, no frown. He looked almost sweet.

Larry always woke him up by touching him, it was much easier than banging pots and pans, and it left both of them much happier. The plan was simple - tap or rub his arm until he opened his eyes, but as he got closer, Larry found himself hyper focusing on Bing's face. His soft, worry-free expression, his freckles, his lips.

Larry honestly couldn't remember seeing Bing this calm - he was always so tense, always enraptured by his work, too busy for even a moment with his boyfriend. Larry normally didn't care about that, but the fine print of their relationship was different now that Bing was carrying Larry's three kids. They were supposed to spend time together, that was what people considered normal. They were supposed to love each other.

Larry loved Bing, of course he did, but he was certain that his inability to express that love was where they fell flat. Watching Bing finally have a moment of peace made Larry hesitate in waking him up the usual way.

Larry suddenly had other plans.

There was a gap between Bing's legs, so he carefully slotted his knee into it for better leverage. Looking down at Bing, he couldn't help but smile. A real emotion, a genuine grin on his face at the sight of his boyfriend.

Larry put his hand on either side of Bing's stomach, sliding his hands under the t-shirt's fabric at an agonizingly slow pace. His hands traced the smooth curve of his stomach before dropping to his ribs, riding each slope of bone before retreating. Once he got halfway back, Bing shuttered to life, groaning at the feeling of Larry's hands on him.

"...What time is it?" Bing mumbled, stretching and rubbing his eyes. The brunet arched his back as Larry's hands continued to carefully travel his body.