Yu's throat fluttered around the thick head lodged deep, spit bubbling at the corners of his stretched lips as he held himself there, nose crushed against Adrian's pelvis, breathing in the raw scent of skin and sex. He swallowed once, twice, the tight ripple of his muscles milking Adrian's cock until Adrian's thighs shook and a strangled curse tore out of him.
"Fuck! Yu, ha, ha…"
Only then did Yu pull off, slow and deliberate, letting every inch drag over his tongue. A thick rope of saliva connected his swollen bottom lip to the glistening crown when he finally came free with a wet, obscene pop. He didn't give Adrian time to recover; he dove back down, faster this time, cheeks hollowed so hard they ached, the suction brutal.
Gluck—gluck—gluck—gluck—
The rhythm was relentless now, messy and shameless. Spit spilled down Adrian's shaft, dripping off his balls in heavy drops that splattered Yu's knees. Yu's own cock twitched against his hand, leaking steadily, but he didn't care; he was drunk on the weight on his tongue, the way Adrian's hips jerked forward every time Yu's throat clenched around him.
Yu pulled off again just long enough to tongue the slit, flicking hard and fast, lapping up the fresh surge of precum like it was nectar. Then he sank lower, lips grazing past the head, past the shaft, until his mouth sealed around Adrian's balls instead. He sucked one into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, humming low so the vibration rattled straight through Adrian's spine. Adrian's hand finally snapped up, fingers tangling roughly in Yu's wet hair—not guiding yet, just anchoring, knuckles white.
Yu released the ball with a filthy slurp and dragged his tongue up the underside again, tracing every throbbing vein, before swallowing the entire length in one brutal drop. His throat bulged visibly as the head pushed in deep; tears tracked down his flushed cheeks, but his eyes—glowing, feral—never left Adrian's.
Adrian broke.
His grip tightened, hips snapping forward once, hard, forcing Yu's nose flush against him again. Yu hummed, the sound raw and wet, but he didn't pull away; he moaned around the cock stuffing his throat, the vibration ripping a broken cry from Adrian's lips.
"Oh fuck—"
Adrian held him there, buried to the root, for one heartbeat, two, then dragged Yu off by the hair just enough to let him gasp a desperate breath before shoving back in. He set the pace now—rough, punishing thrusts that battered the back of Yu's willing throat, spit flying with every withdraw, Yu's wrecked, eager whimpers muffled around the pistoning shaft.
Yu took it all with ease. Hands braced on Adrian's thighs, nails digging into toned muscle, he opened wider, letting Adrian fuck his mouth like a toy. His own cock pulsed violently in the open, untouched now and dripping, the wet slit spreading beads of pre-cum onto the floor with every brutal thrust that rocked his body.
Adrian's rhythm stuttered. His balls drew up tight, cock swelling impossibly thicker against Yu's tongue.
"Close—"
Adrian growled, voice shredded.
"Yu—fuck—gonna—"
Yu answered by slamming himself down one last time, throat spasming, swallowing hard around the entire length as Adrian's hips snapped forward and held.
Adrian came with a hoarse shout, cock jerking violently as thick, hot pulses flooded Yu's throat. Yu swallowed greedily, again and again, throat working around the spurting head until Adrian was spent, hips twitching through the aftershocks.
Only when the last drop was milked did Yu slowly pull off, lips sliding along the softening groin, cleaning every inch with soft, reverent licks. A final strand of cum and spit connected them when he finally sat back on his folded legs, chest heaving, chin and throat glistening, eyes dazed and triumphant.
Adrian was still catching his breath, chest heaving, cock half-soft and slick with spit and the last traces of his release, when Yu leaned in again like he hadn't just drained him dry.
Yu's tongue dragged slow and deliberate up the sensitive underside, lapping at the mess he'd made, gathering every stray drop of cum and saliva. The touch was gentle at first, almost reverent, but the hunger in his glowing eyes was anything but tame.
Adrian hissed, oversensitive, hips jerking back on instinct.
"Yu—fuck—give me a second—"
Yu didn't.
He sealed his swollen lips around the flushed head and sucked, hard, cheeks hollowing with brutal pressure. Adrian's whole body jolted, a broken groan ripping out of him as his cock twitched and began to fill again, impossibly fast, blood rushing south under Yu's merciless mouth.
Yu hummed, pleased, the vibration making Adrian's thighs tremble. He took him deeper, slow and filthy, letting Adrian feel every inch of his throat opening back up, still slick and loose from the first round. Spit welled instantly, bubbling at the corners of his mouth as he bobbed, shallow at first, then deeper, faster, until his nose was buried in the damp curls at the base again.
"Jesus, hah—fuck, hah—you're gonna kill me, ha—"
Adrian panted, but his hand was already back in Yu's hair, gripping tight, guiding now, unable to resist.
Yu pulled off just long enough to speak, voice hoarse and wrecked.
"Want you to fuck my throat again."
He rasped, tongue flicking the slit, coaxing out a fresh bead of precum.
"Want to choke on it. Want you to use me until you're empty, Adrian."
Then he sank down hard, taking Adrian to the root in one slick plunge. His throat fluttered around the thickening cock, gag reflex practically nonexistent, and he moaned like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
Adrian's control snapped a second time.
He yanked Yu's head back by the hair, just enough to see those blown-out hazel-red eyes, tears clinging to wet lashes, lips stretched obscenely around his cock, then slammed forward. Hard. Again. Again. The rhythm was brutal from the start—no warm-up, no mercy—just the wet, filthy sound of Yu's throat getting fucked raw.
Gluck—gluck—gluck—gluck—
Yu's hands scrabbled at Adrian's hips, nails leaving red crescents, not to push away but to pull him deeper. His own cock was rock-hard again, twitching and leaking, smearing a wet streak against his stomach every time Adrian's thrusts rocked him forward.
Adrian growled, low and feral, hips snapping faster.
"That what you want, huh? My cock down your throat 'til you can't breathe? Greedy fucking mouth—"
Yu whimpered around the pistoning shaft, the sound muffled and desperate, throat spasming as Adrian bottomed out over and over. Spit poured down his chin, dripping onto his chest, mixing with the tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.
Adrian's balls were already drawing up again, impossibly soon, the second orgasm building fast and vicious. He held Yu's head still, buried deep, and ground against his face, cock pulsing against the back of Yu's throat.
"Take it—fuck—take every drop—"
He came with a guttural snarl, hips jerking erratically as he flooded Yu's throat a second time. Thicker this time, hotter, the sheer volume making Yu choke and swallow frantically, throat working around the spurting head like he was starving for it.
When Adrian finally let go, Yu didn't pull off right away. He stayed there, lips sealed, gently nursing the softening cock, tongue swirling lazily, milking the last shivers from Adrian's spent body.
Only when Adrian sagged back against the washer, legs shaking, did Yu finally release him with a slow, wet slide. He sat back on his heels again, face a wreck—lips bruised and swollen, chin dripping, eyes glassy, red and blissed-out.
He licked his lips, slow and deliberate, catching the last traces of cum, and smiled up at Adrian with sharp, sated teeth.
"Again?"
He whispered, voice raw.
The hunger in his glowing red eyes said he already knew the answer.
Adrian was still trembling from the second orgasm, cock flushed dark and oversensitive, when Yu surged forward like a predator who'd only been playing before.
This time there was no teasing, no slow worship. Yu's hands clamped onto Adrian's hips, nails digging in hard enough to bruise, and he swallowed Adrian's cock in one violent drop. His throat opened instantly, still slick and wrecked, taking every inch until his nose slammed against Adrian's pelvis and his lips kissed the root.
Adrian barked a shocked, broken sound, spine bowing off the washer.
"Yu—fuck—!"
Yu didn't answer with words. He pulled back only halfway and slammed down again, harder, faster, setting a punishing rhythm from the first stroke. His head snapped back and forth, throat fucking itself raw on Adrian's rapidly hardening cock. Spit flew in thick strings, splattering Adrian's thighs, the floor, Yu's own shirt. The wet choke of his throat was obscene, louder than the washer's dying spin cycle behind them.
Gluck—GLUCK—GLUCK—GLUCK—
Each thrust punched the air from Yu's lungs in wet, desperate gasps through his nose. His eyes rolled back, tears streaming in streaks down flushed cheeks, but he didn't slow. He couldn't. The hunger was a roaring thing now, feral and insatiable, and Adrian's cock was the only thing keeping it from tearing him apart.
Adrian's hands flew to Yu's head, fingers twisting viciously in now sweat-damp hair. He tried to slow him, tried to breathe, but Yu snarled around the cock stuffing his throat—a muffled, animal sound—and shoved forward harder, forcing Adrian to take control or lose his mind.
Adrian snapped.
He yanked Yu off his cock with a brutal grip, just long enough to haul him up by the hair and slam him chest-first against the washer. Yu's cheek hit the cold metal, a shocked moan ripping out of him as Adrian kicked his legs apart.
But Yu twisted in his grip, wild-eyed, drooling, and dropped straight back to his knees before Adrian could line up.
"No—mouth—give me your fucking dick—"
Yu rasped, voice shredded to gravel.
He attacked Adrian's cock again like it had personally offended him. Both hands gripped the base, twisting in opposite directions as his throat took the rest, head pistoning so fast his hair whipped against Adrian's thighs. His throat bulged visibly with every plunge, the outline of Adrian's cockhead dragging under the pale skin.
Adrian lost language. He roared, hips punching forward to meet every savage descent, fucking Yu's throat like he was trying to break it. The washer rocked beneath them, metal groaning in protest.
Yu's own cock was pink and untouched, leaking in a steady stream that pooled beneath his knees. Every thrust into his throat jolted his whole body, prostate screaming from the indirect pressure, pre-cum spurting in thin ropes each time Adrian's cockhead battered the back of his tongue.
"Gonna, hah—f-fuck—hah, gonna come, ha, again—"
Adrian snarled through clenched teeth, balls already drawn up tight for the third impossible time.
Yu answered by forcing two of his own fingers alongside Adrian's cock—stretching his lips obscenely wider, gagging himself deeper, choking on flesh and fingers and spit until his whole body seized.
Adrian came with a guttural curse, hips locked forward, cock buried to the root as he emptied himself straight down Yu's spasming throat. The volume was obscene—thick, burning ropes that overflowed Yu's mouth, bubbling out the corners of his stretched lips and dripping in heavy globs from his chin.
Yu swallowed what he could, choking and moaning, throat milking Adrian through every pulse. His untouched cock jerked violently and he came hands-free, a broken wail muffled around the cock still flooding his mouth. Thin, watery spurts painted the floor between his knees, his entire body shaking with the force of it.
Adrian sagged, knees buckling, cock slipping from Yu's wrecked mouth with a filthy, wet sound. Yu stayed on all fours, coughing, drooling cum and spit in thick ropes, chest heaving, face a ruined mess of tears, snot, and seed.
After a long, shuddering moment he looked up, lips swollen and bruised, eyes glowing brighter than ever.
"Again."
He croaked, voice completely destroyed.
Adrian stared down at him, cock twitching valiantly despite being wrung dry three times, and realized with a mix of terror and exhilaration that Yu wasn't anywhere close to finished.
The hunger had only just woken up.
Adrian was half-slumped against the washer, thighs trembling, cock raw and angry-red, when Yu crawled forward again on hands and knees like something feral.
His face was a wreck: lips swollen, chin crusted with drying cum and fresh spit, eyes glowing fever-bright red. He didn't ask. He didn't speak. He just seized Adrian's hips, dragged him forward, and swallowed his cock to the root in one brutal, practiced lunge.
Adrian's head slammed back against the wall with a bang, a hoarse, broken shout tearing out of him. Yu didn't ease in; he attacked. Head snapping back and forth so fast his hair lashed Adrian's stomach like wet ropes, throat already ruined and still forcing itself wider, deeper, greedier.
GLUCK—GLUCK—GLUCK—GLUCK—
The sound was violent, wet flesh on flesh, spit foaming at the corners of Yu's stretched lips and pouring down Adrian's balls in thick rivulets. Yu's nails raked red lines down Adrian's thighs, anchoring himself as he fucked his own throat raw. Every plunge punched a choked moan out of him, vibrating straight through Adrian's oversensitive shaft.
Adrian's hands were in Yu's hair again, yanking, guiding, losing the last scraps of control. His hips snapped forward in short, savage thrusts, meeting Yu's descent halfway, battering the back of his throat until Yu's eyes rolled white and his whole body shook with the impact.
Yu's untouched cock was leaking steadily again, a thin string of precum stretching from the tip to the floor with every jolt. His throat bulged grotesquely, the outline of Adrian's cockhead dragging under the skin each time he bottomed out.
Adrian's balls drew up tight, impossibly fast for the fourth time, cock swelling thicker against Yu's battered tongue. His rhythm stuttered, thighs locking, breath ragged.
"Fuhck—Y-Yu, hah—gonna, ngh—"
Yu slammed down one last time, nose crushed against Adrian's pelvis, throat spasming wildly around the full length, and held there, swallowing hard, milking, demanding—Adrian's breath broke into jagged gasps the moment release overtook him. His tattoos flexed tight across his back and arms as he threw his head back, a guttural sound ripping from his throat as thick ropes of seed spilled into Yu's mouth.
Yu's lips sealed around him, drinking greedily, swallowing down each hot pulse as though savoring something more precious than life itself. Compared to this, food was ash on the tongue—Adrian's taste was exquisite, intoxicating, like fine wine that lingered deep in Yu's senses. He suckled the tip even after the last shudder, coaxing more, unwilling to waste a single drop.
Adrian's trembling hand finally fell into Yu's silken hair, gripping weakly as though to ground himself from floating away.
"Yu…"
He rasped, his voice breaking with both exhaustion and disbelief.
But Yu's hunger was nowhere near satisfied. His Incubus instincts stirred like fire in his veins, whispering that four climaxes wasn't nearly enough. He tightened his grip around Adrian's hips, tongue circling the sensitive slit, coaxing Adrian's softening and abused cock back to life. Slowly, surely, he felt it stiffen again against his lips.
With a shiver of need, Yu slid his mouth back down, bobbing his head in smooth, practiced motions that weren't learned but ingrained, instincts guiding him with the precision of a born seducer. Slick sounds filled the small laundry room, obscene and rhythmic, punctuated by Adrian's groans and gasps as his composure shattered anew.
Then, like a cold blade slipping through heat, DK01's voice chimed, clinical yet sharp.
[Warning! Adrian Cross's vitality drained by 78%. Host, restrain yourself. Any further recklessness risks permanent damage or death. Maintain control.]
Yu's hazel eyes, glowing faintly red, flicked upward at Adrian's flushed, undone face. His lips dragged slowly over the shaft, a whimper caught in his throat—torn between obedience to DK01's logic and the intoxicating, dangerous bliss of feeding.
Yu's hunger snarled inside him, louder than DK01's clipped warnings. The veins of Adrian's cock throbbed hot against his tongue, each pulse a promise of more. He wanted it all—every ounce of vitality, every drop of taste, every breathless sound Adrian could make.
His jaw ached but his instincts purred, urging him to devour.
[Host—stop. Danger threshold—]
DK01's static tone spiked, sharp with authority.
Yu's eyes flared, his glow deepening crimson. For a suspended moment, he ignored the warning, sliding lower, hollowing his cheeks until Adrian cried out, his thighs quivering. The temptation to drink him dry was razor-thin.
Then, trembling, Yu forced himself to drag his mouth free with a wet plop. His saliva trailed in shining strings as his lips fell open, chest heaving. He gripped Adrian's base tightly with one hand, stroking in deliberate, controlled pulls while his tongue traced slow, hungry laps along the shaft. Suckling, nipping, kissing—still as intoxicating, still as frenzied, but his drain lessened, his body working to sate itself without crossing the fatal line.
Adrian's groans tore through the laundry room walls, guttural and unrestrained. He clutched at the edge of the washing machine, his tattoos flexing with strain as Yu's delicate strokes unraveled him.
And when Yu felt the telltale twitch of Adrian's fifth climax building, his instincts surged again—he bent quickly, lips sealing tight over the swollen tip just as Adrian spilled.
A strangled cry ripped from Adrian's throat as thick seed spurted into Yu's mouth once more. Yu swallowed greedily, his throat working, his lashes fluttering at the taste. He suckled until Adrian's shudders finally slowed, until there was nothing left, until his mouth was clean of every last drop.
Even then, he lingered, coaxing more with soft pulls and strokes, unwilling to let go, his hunger barely eased but his control hard-won.
DK01's voice cut in sharp, precise, like a scalpel.
[Adrian's vitality drained 98%, Host, your Incubus intake is 150% total. You maintained restraint with Adrian until the near edge, meanwhile you overindulged and went well past your limit, you were at the every brink of destroying yourself. This is not optimal control, but it's… sigh, acceptable, I suppose. Continued practice at this threshold risks accidental killing. I recommend further discipline before future feeds. I must reminder you, this world could destabilize if side characters expire prematurely.]
Yu, still tasting Adrian on his tongue, clicked his own, dismissing the clinical cadence. He rose—smoothing his oversized shirt down and sliding his own spent dick back into his shorts—voice light, casual, as though the last few minutes were a fever dream.
"Let's stop here. The day's still young, and you…"
Yu flicked his gaze up, deliberately soft.
"Haven't even had breakfast yet."
He bent down to scoop up the clean laundry that had spilled during their frenzy, shaking out a shirt, folding it neatly. The contrast was whiplash—domestic, serene, his hands smoothing fabric with practiced ease—as though he hadn't been on his knees seconds ago, obscene and ravenous, drinking Adrian like the sweetest wine.
Adrian leaned against the washer, chest still heaving. His tattoos rippled with the effort of keeping himself upright, sweat still gleaming in the grooves of his muscles. He wanted more. God, he wanted everything. The feel of Yu's lips, the tightness of his throat, the sounds he'd made—Adrian wanted to claim deeper, bury himself until nothing was left between them.
But his knees betrayed him, trembling violently, and he had to catch himself with one hand gripping the machine. He cursed under his breath, half in disbelief, half in exasperation at his own weakness. Slowly, deliberately, he tugged his pajama pants back into place, tied the drawstrings while his pulse still pounded erratically.
By the time he steadied his breathing enough to move, Yu was still calmly stacking the folded shirts, as though Adrian hadn't just been wrung dry. The sight both soothed and ignited him.
Adrian walked over, his steps shaky but deliberate, and when Yu looked up at him from the neat pile, Adrian bent low and pressed a fleeting kiss against his temple. A silent claim, soft but possessive.
"I'll help."
Adrian murmured, voice rough but low, his breath still uneven.
Yu's lips curved in a faint, knowing smile, though his tone remained light.
"Wash up first."
That earned him a chuckle, warm and frayed at the edges. Adrian straightened, giving Yu one last look—half longing, half satisfaction—before he left the laundry room to stumble back to his own space, intent on cleaning up before returning to Yu's side.
---
The sound of cold water hissed sharply around Adrian as he leaned his weight onto the shower wall, water striking his back in a steady, punishing rhythm. His mind, however, wasn't lulled into calm—if anything, the haze of afterglow only sharpened the edges of his thoughts.
Yu. Always Yu.
He could still feel the imprint of Yu's lips sliding down his length, the obscene intimacy of it burned into his nerves. But when he tried to replay it fully, his mind always snagged on one detail:
The way Yu had panicked when Adrian lifted his shirt. The way his small hand had grabbed his wrist, tugged the fabric back down like his life depended on it.
It hadn't been modesty. Adrian knew the difference between shy resistance and sheer refusal.
His eyes narrowed under the spray. Lately, Yu had been wrapped in hoodies, oversized shirts, jackets that swallowed his frame. At first, Adrian thought it was just his style, or maybe to keep Callen's wandering eyes at bay. But now—now, with that memory fresh—Adrian's suspicion sharpened like a blade.
His jaw clenched, the droplets rolling down his tattoos as his mind flicked to that hidden drawer in his desk. To the single stick he'd tucked away. Positive. The weight of it burned like it was still in his pocket.
'Could Yu be… pregnant?'
The thought was impossible. Unthinkable. And yet, the tests were real. His instincts weren't wrong. Yu was hiding something monumental, and Adrian's chest tightened with a mix of dread, hunger, and a possessiveness that made his pulse quicken.
He turned off the water abruptly, toweling off his hair with force, as though he could scrub away the thoughts—but they clung tighter than water.
---
Meanwhile, Yu folded the last of the laundry with meticulous precision, his motions too controlled, too deliberate. The silence hummed, broken only by the soft slap of fabric as he stacked shirts into tidy piles. His lips still tingled faintly from Adrian's touch, his throat warm from swallowing, but DK01's voice hadn't left him since.
[Host, you seriously drained Adrian to dangerous levels. Your self-control remains fragile. I'm worried should this overindulgence continue, it could risk destabilization but more than that… it could hurt you, your soul. Just… be careful in the future and restrain from feeding too often. That's all I'm asking.]
Yu's shoulders hunched. He hated that voice, hated the way it cut through even his moments of pleasure. He hated how right it always was.
His belly, barely rounding beneath his oversized shirt, gave a faint twist. Hunger. Not human hunger, but that gnawing, cavernous need that pulsed like a second heartbeat inside him. It ached, demanded, whispered promises of satiation if only he stopped holding back.
Yu set down a folded shirt with trembling hands, staring at the neat stack as though it were a wall holding him back from collapse.
"How do they do it?"
He muttered, half to himself, half to the void where DK01 listened.
"My subjects. Other Incubi. Succubi. How do they know when to stop? How do they… manage it without tearing their lovers apart?"
His nails dug faint crescents into the fabric as his mind whirled. He'd nearly drained Theo dry. He'd almost killed Adrian. Callen was still a wreck from the couch. And yet—others of his kind, ordinary Incubi and Succubi—never had to practice restraint. It was in their bones. Instinct.
Why wasn't it in his?
He clenched his jaw, biting back the hunger that swelled in his throat, the craving that whispered he'd never have enough.
Never~
The last shirt lay folded and neat in Yu's lap when DK01's voice cut through the silence, crisp and merciless as always—yet beneath its clinical tone, something sharp and almost pitying edged through.
[Your Incubi and Succubi subjects know restraint because they are whole. Their instincts are intact. Their training is ancient, passed from birth, honed by their elders. They do not stumble because they were never stripped down to nothing. You, Host…]
A pause, calculated, as if searching for the word that would wound deepest.
[…You were shattered when you died. Bound. Then rebuilt around a system that once helped to dictate what your instincts should have told you naturally. However, that limiter was lifted when you deviated in order to keep you from resetting back to day one which unleashed too much of your true nature at once, causing an imbalance in your control. Now, what we call practice is what those others are already born with.]
Yu froze, fingers tightening around the fabric until the folded shirt crumpled in his hands. His pulse hammered.
"Are you saying…"
His throat tightened, rough with emotion.
"...That I'm broken?"
DK01's screen flickered in the corner of his vision—clinical graphs, unreadable codes—and then that same cold voice delivered the truth like a knife point pressing against his chest.
[At the moment… you are incomplete. The King of Lust Demons reduced to an artificial framework. You rely on me to give reminders and warnings because your instincts are out of control, they should have remained limited along with your memory. But this is promising, this means that your past memories can be uncovered as well. Until you regain what was lost, you will remain weaker than even a fledgling Incubus.]
Yu's breath hitched, fury and shame sparking through him in equal measure. His knuckles whitened as he crushed the fabric in his hands, his chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths. The words:
"…Incomplete…"
"…Weaker than a fledgling…"
—rang like chains rattling in his head. His throat burned as anger boiled over—anger at DK01, at Theo, at himself.
Tears stung hot in his eyes.
"You think I'm some… broken thing? That I can't even trust my own body anymore?!"
His voice cracked, brittle with disbelief. He wanted to scream until his lungs bled. He wanted to claw his chest open and pull out the ache gnawing at his heart. He wanted Talo.
His belly gave a small, almost mocking twist of life, reminding him of who else was listening inside him. The sharp ache of grief softened instantly into dread. His lips trembled, teeth biting down to keep the sob from breaking loose.
And then, cool as steel, DK01 cut in—its timing calculated, slicing through his emotional spiral.
{DING! Host's stress levels are rising dangerously high. This will harm the child. Redirect focus.}
[Host, remember you have a doctor's appointment scheduled for this afternoon. Prioritize that please. You also promised to make breakfast for your slain roommates, and you are behind on two slides of your Rome project. Also the drafts for the runway theme remain unreviewed.]
Yu blinked, startled. The fury in his chest stuttered, his thoughts tripping over themselves as they collided with DK01's sudden list.
"…Breakfast…"
He muttered faintly, caught off guard.
"And… the appointment. Ah, the slides…"
His mind, dulled and fragile under the tug of hormones, shifted—pulled away from anger into the tug of responsibility. The sharp edges of grief dulled, replaced by a warm, heavy fog that demanded movement. Yes—he had promised breakfast. He couldn't be late for the doctor. And the project… and the sketches…
By the time he pushed himself up, gathering the stack of neatly folded clothes in his arms, his anger had already unraveled into faint confusion. He couldn't even remember why he'd been so furious a moment ago. He only knew he had things to do—things that mattered.
So he squared his shoulders, wiped his damp cheeks against his sleeve, and set out to start the day.
---
The paper crinkled beneath Yu as he sat on the exam table, hands folded in his lap, oversized hoodie doing little to hide the faint swell at his stomach. The sterile white room smelled faintly of antiseptic and latex. His pulse thudded louder than the ticking clock on the wall.
The doctor scanned the chart again, brows knitting.
"Hm. That's odd…"
His voice trailed into silence as his eyes flicked between the screen and Yu.
"Your records don't list any reproductive organs, but the scan shows—"
Yu's heart plummeted.
'Oh no. Oh no no no—'
"…A functioning uterus. Ovaries. Everything."
The doctor's pen tapped once against the clipboard.
"This wasn't noted anywhere in your medical history."
Yu's fingers clenched tight in his hoodie pocket, nails biting into his palms. His thoughts spiraled—
'Shit, what if he asks more, what if he notices too much, what if he—'
Then the doctor muttered a sharp curse under his breath and rubbed his temple.
"I'm sorry. This must be a clerical error in your file. Someone on intake must've missed it, and the oversight carried forward. I'll update your chart and recommend you to an OBGYN who can follow this pregnancy properly."
Yu's breath stuttered out—half relief, half terror—his chest aching from how tight he'd held the air in.
The doctor's tone softened, professional again.
"Are you experiencing anything unusual? Any pain, dizziness, abnormal cravings? Anything at all besides the expected nausea or fatigue?"
Yu shook his head too quickly, then caught himself.
"N-no, just… tired. A lot."
And hungry. Always hungry. His Incubus instincts purred in the back of his mind, but he bit his lip, forcing them down.
The doctor nodded and began typing notes into the chart, while DK01's voice flickered in Yu's ear, clinical as always
[You nearly compromised the mission. Handle this with more caution next time.]
Yu squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to shake.
…
The elevator hummed softly as Yu leaned against its mirrored wall, clutching the small slip of paper with the OBGYN's office number scribbled across it. His reflection stared back at him: pale skin, hoodie drawn tight around him, lips pressed thin as though he could hold his world together if only he didn't let them tremble.
His chest burned, a cocktail of shame, fear, and exhaustion swirling too heavy in his lungs.
'How long until someone sees through me? How long before they stop calling it "clerical errors" and start prying?'
[Host, you are stressing.]
DK01 observed, tone flat.
[The doctor just told you your cortisol levels are elevated. The amount of stress you are holding on to is counterproductive to fetal development. You must stay focused.]
Yu barked a laugh under his breath, bitter.
'Focus? I'm being paraded like a circus freak. If I snap, they'll lock me in a lab before I ever get to France.'
When the elevator dinged open, his feet carried him forward despite the weight pressing him down.
The OBGYN's office was quieter than the general clinic below, painted in soft earth tones with a faint scent of lavender in the air. Still, Yu's heart pounded as the nurse called him in and guided him into an exam room.
"Dr. Nathaniel will be in shortly."
She said with a smile before shutting the door.
Minutes stretched like hours before the door opened again. Dr. Nathaniel, mid-40s with calm eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses, entered with a tablet in hand. He looked Yu over once, expression shifting from professional composure to faint curiosity.
"So…"
The doctor began, pulling up the scan results.
"You've been referred here because your primary found a pregnancy that doesn't match what your previous medical records stated."
Yu's throat bobbed as he nodded.
Dr. Nathaniel leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"It's not… unheard of. Male pregnancies are extremely rare, but there are documented cases. Usually tied to intersex conditions or surgical alterations."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Do you have any prior knowledge of such conditions?"
Yu's mouth went dry. His brain screamed.
'No, no, don't give them anything.'
DK01's voice cut through calm and detached.
[Deny. Always deny. Information control is paramount.]
"…No."
Yu's voice came out small, but steady.
The doctor hummed, tapping on the tablet.
"Alright. Then we'll run some additional labs. We need to monitor you closely, because your male hormones will clash with the hormonal changes of pregnancy. It's not dangerous yet, but it can cause complications—mood swings, extreme fatigue, even risk of miscarriage if the balance tips too far."
The word miscarriage slammed into Yu's chest like a fist. His hand instinctively pressed against his stomach, shielding the small swell.
"We'll check your hormone levels today…"
Dr. Nathaniel continued, his tone professional but careful.
"And I want to schedule frequent ultrasounds. Given the rarity of your case, we have to make sure both you and the baby remain stable."
Yu nodded numbly, though his vision blurred with tears he couldn't let fall here.
DK01's voice clicked cold and sharp in his ear:
[See? The vessel is fragile. The mission is fragile. You mustn't falter. Every mistake could kill him—your child, and your king.]
Yu's nails dug crescents into his palms as he whispered inside his head.
'I won't. I can't.'
The antiseptic tang of the exam room clung to Yu's senses, sharper now that his stomach had churned itself into knots.
A nurse soon arrived and drew blood with careful efficiency, her rubber-gloved hands steady as Yu clenched his fist and stared at the wall, trying not to wince.
'Needles are nothing compared to being sliced in half.'
He thought bitterly, but his pulse still stuttered when the vials filled one by one, scarlet reminders of the life changing inside him.
When the ultrasound wand pressed against his lower belly, cool gel smearing across his skin, Yu forced himself to breathe, his shirt tugged up only enough to expose the slight swell he was so desperate to keep hidden. The machine hummed, soft beeps filling the silence until—
"My, that's an awfully large uterus. You said you were experiencing fatigue as well? Are there any other symptoms you can tell me you're having?"
"Uhm…I guess I'm eating a lot more? I've gained so much weight so fast. Oh, and I can feel some…like fluttering? Or something like movement but…that could just be in my head I suppose…"
"Hmm, Ah. There they are."
Dr. Nathaniel murmured, voice calm, almost reverent. He tilted the monitor so Yu could see.
"You said you're at about 3 weeks into the conception? Typically an ultrasound won't show a fetus because the fertilized egg is just a tiny cluster of dividing cells; an ultrasound at this stage can only reveal the thickened uterine lining. I wouldn't usually perform an ultrasound this early but I am concerned about a miscarriage. Right now, however, it's too soon for accurate dating or visualization…"
He paused for a moment before smiling and adding on.
"But from my years of experience and from the symptoms you're telling me, I can safely presume you're carrying triplets. Congratulations. Let's pray none disappear on us now."
Yu's breath hitched.
The room tilted, narrowed to the flickering black-and-white screen where three tiny fluttering shapes moved like stars trapped in static. His throat burned.
'Three. Three?'
His whole body locked, cold and burning all at once.
"Triplets…"
The word fell out in a rasp.
'How? How can I? Alone?'
Images assaulted him—late nights cramming for exams, bills piling, his already delicate world teetering—now splintering beneath the impossible weight of three children at once with no help.
"Are you feeling dizzy?"
Dr. Nathaniel's voice cut in gently.
"Breathe slowly. In through your nose."
Yu obeyed, but his chest still shook.
Then came the question he had dreaded, inevitable and brutal in its simplicity.
"And… the father?"
Yu's lips parted, air stuck in his lungs. He stammered, the lie tripping out half-formed:
"I-I don't… I don't know."
The doctor studied him, unreadable for a moment, then only nodded, clicking a note into the chart.
"That's alright. We'll focus on you and the babies for now."
He rose, fetched a neat stack of pamphlets, and handed them to Yu:
Support services, counseling, state aid, housing, classes for single parents.
"There are resources available."
He said.
"You don't have to do this alone."
Yu's hands shook as he took them. The words blurred. The room blurred. His chest heaved—and then the dam burst.
Hot tears spilled unchecked down his cheeks, his breath snagging on sobs he couldn't swallow. He hunched over, clutching the pamphlets against his stomach like a shield and a weight.
"I—I can't—three, I can't—"
Dr. Nathaniel reached for tissues, his voice steady, low.
"It's alright. Let it out. Many parents feel overwhelmed at first, especially when circumstances are complicated. You're not failing. You're adjusting."
Yu wept harder, his tears soaking through the thin paper edges in his grip.
"Breathe. One step at a time."
The doctor murmured. His tone remained professional, but his presence was gentle, grounding. He didn't press, didn't pry, only gave Yu the space to shatter without judgment.
And Yu, trembling, pressed the tissues to his eyes, shoulders quaking as if the fragile fabric of his whole world had finally split open.
After a few moments, Yu's sobs gradually tapered into hiccupped gasps, tissues crumpling in his fists. His shoulders still shook, but the sharp edge of the breakdown dulled to something slower, heavier—like a weight pressing down rather than tearing him apart.
Dr. Nathaniel set a glass of water on the counter beside him, speaking softly, almost fatherly.
"Sip when you're ready. You don't need to rush out."
He didn't hover, didn't crowd, simply remained in the room with an aura of calm until Yu finally nodded and lifted the glass with trembling hands.
The cool water steadied his throat, if not his heart.
"Triplets will be a challenge…"
The doctor said gently.
"But I've seen parents rise to challenges they thought impossible. What matters now is pacing yourself, making sure you eat, rest, and let others help you when they offer. That's how you'll get through."
Yu could only nod, silent, a fresh tissue pressed to his eyes. His chest still ached, his mind still spinning—but the doctor's tone anchored him just enough to keep standing when the appointment finally ended.
---
The hallway outside felt too bright, too wide. Yu clutched the pamphlets to his chest, knuckles white. The words blurred together—support group, prenatal vitamins, financial aid—none of it seemed real. His steps faltered toward the elevator, and that's when DK01's voice cut through, calm and clinical, sliding across his thoughts like a scalpel.
[Host, you must exercise caution. Some future worlds will not be as welcoming to the sight of a pregnant male. Others will encourage it. The variable is environment. The constant is you.]
Yu froze mid-step, breath hitching.
[Regardless of world acceptance, pregnancy is always life-altering. Good or bad—that is determined by your choices. By your ability to adapt. Yu, you must remain mindful.]
Yu's grip on the pamphlets tightened until the corners bent. His lips trembled, words unspoken—
"I didn't choose this, not like this."
Yet he swallowed them back.
The elevator chimed. He stepped inside, the doors sliding closed on the sterile hallway. His reflection stared back in the polished metal:
Pale face, faint shadows under his eyes, hands clutching those damn pamphlets like they might dissolve if he let go.
A broken laugh escaped him, small and raw.
"Life-altering, huh?"
He whispered under his breath.
But his stomach fluttered faintly, a reminder from within. And despite his tears, despite the storm in his chest, Yu pressed a hand over the swell beneath his loose shirt.
Even if it terrified him, even if it was crushing him—he couldn't let go.