Short update is short, but it's been far too long since the last update. I blame real life. University sucks like that. No warnings for this bit. No funny languages or Japanese this time either; sorry for those who enjoyed that. Maybe in later chapters, y/n?
-.oOo.-
There was no getting back to sleep after that. Waking the others up wouldn’t improve the situation, and it gave him some time to think, so Alfred just laid there as the meagre light strengthened little by little, one hand resting near his head while the other laid on his stomach, stroking gently. He was surprised by how large he was; none of his “sudden” children had happened so quickly in the past.
Third trimester, it has to be. His hand paused and his fingers curled as he thought of the reactions this would get. The other Nations knew of his states, knew that he carried them like any mother with her children, but the rapid pregnancies were unusual, even for their kind, inhuman as they were. He would hide himself away whenever it happened, from Nation and human alike, so no others would know. And it hadn’t really mattered back in the days without frequent global, or even transcontinental, travel, but now…
Alfred sucked in a breath as Arthur moved in his sleep, heard an incoherent grumble as he shifted, one arm flopping across Alfred’s side, just brushing the curve of his belly. He held the breath until the mumbling subsided back into light snores. The child moved inside of him, kicked between his hand and Arthur’s arm, and he reached up to rub small circles over it.
Ah, little one, how will I explain you to them when even I’m not sure why you’re here?
-.oOo.-
Arthur roused from sleep slowly, not being a morning person in any sense of the word. He vaguely registered the soft light coming in through the windows, birdsong in the trees outside. He let his eyes drift shut once more, resigning to a few more minutes of not-quite-sleep before he had to haul himself out of bed in search of a hot shower and even hotter tea. Nuzzling into the nape of Alfred’s neck, he breathed in – he smells like his East Coast today – and tightened the arm he had draped around America in his sleep.
His forearm brushed a swell of flesh that hadn’t been there the night before. England bolted upright, staring down at the man lying between Kiku and himself.
He was fairly certain that he looked the fool, sitting there propped up on one arm, sheets and comforter barely covering his nakedness, his mouth hanging open in utter dumbfounded surprise. Somewhere through the haze shrouding his brain, he noticed that Alfred’s eyes were open, a sliver of blue peeking sideways at him. The younger Nation’s expression was closed, unreadable. Arthur belatedly realized that his other arm was still lying on Alfred, his hand unconsciously stroking the young man’s distended belly, making soothing circles with his fingertips. It was a habit he had picked up in a much earlier time, centuries ago, during the hectic years that spanned the births of the original Thirteen and the Northwest Territories, the first children he fathered on his former colony.
He stared at his hand for a second; stared at America, then at his hand again. He stilled his fingers, spreading them wide and placing his palm on the soft, soft skin, feeling for the child inside. His expression softened as he felt a push against his hand and looked up at Alfred, who still wore that shielded expression, though some of the boy’s apprehension and doubt had leaked through his emotional barrier. England fixed him with a sleepy, wry smile, a rather lopsided one at that.
“I suppose you’ll be blaming me for this one as well?”
Alfred’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut, his trepidation returning at the feel of another hand pressed against his stomach, Kiku awake now and staring with wide-eyed wonder at America’s bulging middle.
Blossoms For Your Beauty (4/?)
-.oOo.-
There was no getting back to sleep after that. Waking the others up wouldn’t improve the situation, and it gave him some time to think, so Alfred just laid there as the meagre light strengthened little by little, one hand resting near his head while the other laid on his stomach, stroking gently. He was surprised by how large he was; none of his “sudden” children had happened so quickly in the past.
Third trimester, it has to be. His hand paused and his fingers curled as he thought of the reactions this would get. The other Nations knew of his states, knew that he carried them like any mother with her children, but the rapid pregnancies were unusual, even for their kind, inhuman as they were. He would hide himself away whenever it happened, from Nation and human alike, so no others would know. And it hadn’t really mattered back in the days without frequent global, or even transcontinental, travel, but now…
Alfred sucked in a breath as Arthur moved in his sleep, heard an incoherent grumble as he shifted, one arm flopping across Alfred’s side, just brushing the curve of his belly. He held the breath until the mumbling subsided back into light snores. The child moved inside of him, kicked between his hand and Arthur’s arm, and he reached up to rub small circles over it.
Ah, little one, how will I explain you to them when even I’m not sure why you’re here?
-.oOo.-
Arthur roused from sleep slowly, not being a morning person in any sense of the word. He vaguely registered the soft light coming in through the windows, birdsong in the trees outside. He let his eyes drift shut once more, resigning to a few more minutes of not-quite-sleep before he had to haul himself out of bed in search of a hot shower and even hotter tea. Nuzzling into the nape of Alfred’s neck, he breathed in – he smells like his East Coast today – and tightened the arm he had draped around America in his sleep.
His forearm brushed a swell of flesh that hadn’t been there the night before. England bolted upright, staring down at the man lying between Kiku and himself.
He was fairly certain that he looked the fool, sitting there propped up on one arm, sheets and comforter barely covering his nakedness, his mouth hanging open in utter dumbfounded surprise. Somewhere through the haze shrouding his brain, he noticed that Alfred’s eyes were open, a sliver of blue peeking sideways at him. The younger Nation’s expression was closed, unreadable. Arthur belatedly realized that his other arm was still lying on Alfred, his hand unconsciously stroking the young man’s distended belly, making soothing circles with his fingertips. It was a habit he had picked up in a much earlier time, centuries ago, during the hectic years that spanned the births of the original Thirteen and the Northwest Territories, the first children he fathered on his former colony.
He stared at his hand for a second; stared at America, then at his hand again. He stilled his fingers, spreading them wide and placing his palm on the soft, soft skin, feeling for the child inside. His expression softened as he felt a push against his hand and looked up at Alfred, who still wore that shielded expression, though some of the boy’s apprehension and doubt had leaked through his emotional barrier. England fixed him with a sleepy, wry smile, a rather lopsided one at that.
“I suppose you’ll be blaming me for this one as well?”
Alfred’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut, his trepidation returning at the feel of another hand pressed against his stomach, Kiku awake now and staring with wide-eyed wonder at America’s bulging middle.