Chapter Text
Gepard hissed as he clawed back at Sampo's legs. He felt suffocated with his face pressed into the pillow and Sampo's hands pushing his shoulders down. Every time Sampo thrusted in, Gepard saw stars. He coughed hard, his entire body jerking and flailing.
Overhead, Sampo was breathing heavily. They were both sweating. The air in the room was stuffy and uncomfortable.
Ever since Sampo's first rut with Gepard, it seemed that their ruts began to sync up. At first they assumed it was pure coincidence. But after the second time, it became an expected occurrence.
And while it was sometimes inconvenient for work—Sampo's rut was far more frequent than Gepard's—Gepard found he actually looked forward to it. Because it was exciting. It was thrilling. It was hot—
"Augh!" Gepard threw his head back, only for it to fall back forward onto the pillow with a soft pwomph. Again, he reached back, hands latching onto Sampo's thigh. Whether he wanted to push back or pull Sampo in closer, Gepard couldn't decide. And he didn't really need to either since Sampo was already making the choice for him, driving his cock in deep, in one sudden thrust. Gepard gasped for air.
He had already come numerous times, his own knot inflating and releasing into nothing except onto the sheets.
The bed creaked. It shook with their weight.
Sampo moaned as he continued moving his hips, a bit too far gone. Gepard saw the hazy look in his eyes. They'd been at it since sun set. It was deep into the night and they were very likely disturbing the neighbourhood. Gepard thought he should be stricter, but he also enjoyed seeing Sampo lose his composure. Suddenly, Gepard's senses were flooded with a strong scent of geomarrow and roses. On his neck, he felt Sampo leave wet kisses.
"Gepard..." Sampo breathed, "you're so pretty like this... Egnh..." Sampo trembled, as he came. He took long, shuddering breaths.
Gepard moaned and flinched as he felt the stretch of Sampo's knot begin to expand. He reached up and grabbed Sampo by his nape, pulling him down.
"Sampo... kiss..." Gepard mumbled, eyes already fluttering shut as Sampo's lips landed on his. He squirmed, the smart of the knot stinging.
Above him, he felt Sampo shiver, arms shaking. Grinning, Gepard bumped against Sampo's inner elbow, forcing him to collapse on top of Gepard.
Sampo let out a grunt as he lost strength in his arms.
"Gah, sorry!" He tried to lift himself back up, but Gepard stopped him.
"It's fine," he met Sampo's eyes, "it's not like you can go anywhere anyway. Just stay like this. Inside me."
Sampo's cheeks were flushed bright red. He groaned, "Why do you have to say things like that?"
"Like what?"
"You just," Sampo slid his arms underneath Gepard, squeezing him tight like a snake with its meal, "make everything sound sexy."
At this, Gepard laughed. He wriggled an arm out from Sampo's embrace and brought it up to pet Sampo's head.
"What do you mean? Is that not the point?"
Sampo huffed and buried his face into Gepard's shoulder, electing not to answer. They stayed like that for another few minutes until eventually Sampo's knot released. He left a considerable load inside, hot and dripping. After disentangling from one another, Gepard carefully waddled his way to the bathroom while Sampo slowly followed after, enjoying the view of Gepard from behind.
They ran a shower, the water hot and pressure high. After washing himself, cleaning out all of the cum inside of him, Gepard allowed Sampo to join him in the shower. "Come here, I'll wash you," Gepard offered as Sampo stepped into the steaming hot shower. With soap and bubbles, Gepard scrubbed at Sampo's head with needlessly vigorous effort.
"Ey, careful! Are you helping me wash or trying to rip my hair out?"
"Sorry," Gepard lessened in his ministrations, "this is usually how I wash my hair."
Sampo tutted, "You're so aggressive, kitty. Be more like Sampo. Here, turn around."
Gepard chuckled and rolled his eyes before turning around. He felt long fingertips caress the back of his neck before gliding upward. Sampo was gentle as he massaged shampoo into Gepard's hair. When Sampo deemed it sufficient, he stopped scrubbing and instead lightly tugged at Gepard's ear.
He leaned in from behind, "I should probably stop coming inside of you so often." Sampo snickered as he ran a soapy hand down Gepard's back, "it's becoming a bad habit."
Gepard tucked his chin into his chest, the water making his blonde bangs heavy. He muttered, just barely audible over the running water, "I don't mind if it becomes a habit."
Sampo smiled, but he was fighting off the rising arousal inside of him. It was already tomorrow, and Gepard had scolded him before about doing it too late into the evening on work nights.
Instead, he swallowed hard and dropped his head onto Gepard's shoulder.
"You gotta stop saying stuff like that," Sampo whined, pulling Gepard into a tight embrace.
Gepard laughed, "Why? Are you thinking you want to go another round?"
"No," Sampo lifted his head and rested his chin on Gepard's shoulder, pouting, "only because I know you'll say no. But if I had my way, I wouldn't let you leave this room for days and days."
Gepard smiled, and turned his head to kiss the temple of Sampo's head, "Don't get too eager. Abduction is still illegal."
Sampo chuckled and then softly he said, "Are you hungry at all? I know it's late but—"
"Starving," Gepard said with a small smile.
Sampo grinned, "Good. There are plenty of decent 24-hour spots in The Underground. We can get takeout."
After showering, Sampo ran out to get food for the both of them while Gepard stayed behind and threw the sheets and whatever else got dirty into the laundry. He pulled out a fresh, clean sheet and was busy putting it on the bed when Sampo returned, practically singing. "I've got something special!"
Gepard poked his head out of the bedroom, seeing Sampo burst through the door with several takeout bags. He joined Sampo in the dining room and sat down as Sampo unpacked the food. Even as Gepard sat there and watched, he could feel the warmth emitting from the boxes and bowls. And as Sampo slowly lifted the lid of one of the boxes, Gepard realised he was salivating.
It was kravka bites, glistening with oil and sprinkled in crushed peppercorns and golden herbs. The crispy edges still hissed softly as Sampo pried the lid open, and a thin curl of steam danced out. Gepard didn’t even realise he was leaning forward until Sampo laughed and nudged the dipping sauce closer.
"And..." Sampo was all smiles as he popped open the lid of a bowl of chechliks—fried meat dumplings smashed flat and pan-fried until crisp on both sides. "Tada!" Sampo presented it all like he was introducing a performer at the circus.
Gepard's eyes twinkled as he took in the sight of all the food. It was a lot, but he was quite confident he could eat almost all of it. His mouth was already watering.
"It smells amazing," Gepard said, already ready to dig in. Then, looking up at Sampo with a small, fond smile, he added, “Thank you.”
Sampo puffed up his chest like a rooster, "Well, that's just good ol' Sampo for you. I know you like the back of my hand, kitty." Sampo made to join Gepard but then suddenly stopped, popped back up from his seat and said "Wait. Let me get us some drinks."
"Okay," Gepard called out after him, watching as he disappeared into the kitchen. But even if Sampo was gone for less than a minute, Gepard was practically drooling over the kravka bites. He hesitated. Then, almost sheepishly, he plucked up one of the smaller pieces and took a bite. Flavour exploded across his tongue. The meat was hot and tender, wrapped in a shell of ultra-crispy, crunchy batter, each bite leaving streaks of oil on his fingers. The texture and taste combined to make the most satisfying experience.
He hummed with delight.
"Oh? Starting without me?" Sampo returned just in time to catch him in the act. He carried a large bottle of sparkling water in one arm and two mismatched glass tumblers in the other.
Gepard looked up in surprise. He flushed lightly, covered his mouth with the back of his hand, and swallowed before answering, "Sorry. It was just too tempting."
Sampo only shook his head and chuckled.
"Don't worry. I would have done the same," he said as he set the glasses down and twisted open the bottle. Slowly, he filled Gepard's and his glasses, the fizz of the sparkling water bubbling high to the rim, before sitting down. They chatted idly. About work, life, people. Gepard's apartment had sliding lights which Sampo had dimmed it for the sake of 'ambiance.' It was cozy and relaxing. Just the two of them.
It was only after Sampo reached into the container of chechliks that he paused. He counted and tilted his head in confusion.
He glanced back over to Gepard. "Did you already try the chechliks?" He asked.
Gepard glanced up and nodded, "Yeah. They were really good."
Sampo blinked, "Well, don't eat too fast. Else you'll feel sick later. Plus there won't be anything left for me."
Gepard paused mid-chew, then swallowed and reached for his glass. He apologised, "Sorry. It's been forever since I've last eaten any fried food. I guess I just got carried away."
"It's fine," Sampo purred, "I like to know my kitten is well fed."
Gepard tried not to spit out his drink. He had long since gotten used to the nickname but at the same time, it was so cemented into their relationship, he just knew he could never escape it. Instead, he just said, "Actually, I've noticed my appetite has gotten kind of out of control."
"Oh?" Sampo leaned his elbows on the table, chin resting on a hand.
"Yeah, I only realised it recently. One day, I just saw that my food portions were larger than usual," he glanced down at his lap, "And it feels less like hunger, and more like I'm starving. And usually the weirdest stuff at the worst times. Like a stack of suncakes in the middle of my patrol. Or just a couple of days ago, in the middle of the night, I suddenly wanted meat stew."
Sampo rubbed his chin, like he was a doctor listening to a patient. Then, pointing at Gepard with a half-eaten kravka, he joked, "Maybe you're just pregnant."
Gepard blinked.
Sampo pressed his palms together and nodded solemnly, as if he’d cracked the case. A smirk played at the corner of his lips, trying to hold in his laughter.
With narrowed eyes, Gepard glared at him, unimpressed. “I’m being serious.”
"So am I!" Sampo brought a hand over his heart. "What if you've got something cooking in there, huh? Have you considered that?"
Gepard scoffed and took an unamused sip of his drink, "That's literally impossible. I can't get pregnant. I'm an alpha, in case you forgot." But even as he tried to appear unbothered, he still felt a heat creep up his neck—embarrassment.
“Never slipped my mind,” Sampo said cheerfully. “But hey—" he stood up, leaned across the table, and dropped his voice to a low murmur, "with how often we do it, I wouldn't be surprised if something did start growing in that belly of yours."
Gepard jolted and pulled away. "Koski!" He hissed, face blooming scarlet.
"Hey, how about we try for a baby right now?" Sampo's eyes glinted with mischief.
"Are you nuts?!" Gepard sputtered, "Absolutely not! And stop saying crazy stuff!" He turned away in his chair, too flustered to look Sampo in the eyes.
And Sampo—that bastard—broke into a fit of laughter as he sat back in his own chair. He wiped away a fake tear and held up his hands in surrender, "Okay, okay! Sorry! No need to throw a fit. It's not good for the baby."
Gepard twitched, wanting to berate Sampo for his teasing. Sampo laughed again at his joke, and this time, Gepard allowed himself a slight smile. Most of the time, Sampo annoyed him. But at the very least, Gepard knew he could count on Sampo to lighten the mood. So he let himself laugh. At the stupid, impossible notion that he could be pregnant.
However, after their midnight meal, as Gepard went to brush his teeth, he watched his reflection in the mirror. It was undeniable that there was a change in his appetite and mood. He was certainly acting out of character, craving foods he'd hadn't thought of since childhood. Was it something serious? Or just something in the water? After brushing, he rinsed, spat, and wiped his mouth with a towel, then leaned on the counter.
Squinting at himself, Gepard checked his appearance. He looked the same as he always did.
Still... without meaning to, his hand drifted to his lower abdomen, pressing lightly.
He wasn't bloated. He didn't feel sick. But why did it feel like something had changed?
He frowned, smoothing his hand over the spot once more before shaking his head firmly. It was simply impossible. An alpha couldn't get pregnant. But even as he affirmed that to be the truth, he figured a visit to Natasha's clinic wouldn't hurt. If there was some kind of underlying cause, he should know sooner rather than later.
Because pregnancy was impossible.
...
"Hormonal changes," Natasha said simply. She sat on a wooden stool next to Gepard who sat on the edge of a cot.
Gepard nodded, like he'd known all along. And really, he had suspected something simple, he just hadn’t had the language for it. Hormones. Of course. A perfectly reasonable explanation. It just made sense. (More sense than the alternative.) And why would he suspect anything else? It was all because of Sampo and his teasing that Gepard almost let himself believe in a fantasy.
"Is there a specific cause, though?" Gepard asked, "Anything I can do?"
Natasha shook her head as she scribbled down notes in a thick patient log, "The cause could be anything. Sleep, diet, medication, general life stressors." She paused.
"Are there any life stressors you can identify?"
Gepard hesitated.
He knew what she was really asking. He’d heard this tone before from medics on the field—those who tried to read between the lines. Looking for cracks beneath the surface. Weakness, if only so they could help treat it.
But there wasn’t anything wrong in his life. Work was routine. His health otherwise strong. No nightmares, no injuries. No grief. Nothing on paper.
He shook his head, "No, not really. Life is the same as usual. The only thing I can think of that's changed is..." Being with Sampo. But he didn't dare say it aloud. Not because he was ashamed, but because they had both agreed to keep their relationship private. For how long, they didn't know. But neither wanted to announce it to the world just yet. Not until they were both ready.
Besides, Gepard wouldn't consider Sampo a stressor. Sure, there may have been a time when he considered Sampo a major thorn in his side, but now Sampo had become a source of comfort. He made Gepard laugh even when he didn't want to. Made Gepard's heart flutter with a mere wink. Sampo was far from a stressor. He was a warm place away from the danger and pressure of Gepard's duties and responsibilities.
Gepard let a soft smile slip onto his face, before he suddenly remembered that he trailed off. He rushed to finish his sentence, "...is that... Um... Sleep is somewhat inconsistent."
Natasha tilted her head and gave him a look, silently asking for further explanation.
"Some nights I sleep like a baby—uh...!" Gepard stumbled over his words, "a-and other nights I get practically zero sleep." Aeons, why was he so terrible at lying?
Natasha didn't respond right away, just scribbled down another note in her patient log before nodding and saying, "I suggest you work on that then. Good quality sleep certainly does contribute to your overall health."
Gepard nodded and shifted in his seat, eager to run away. "Yes, of course," he said making a show of standing up. "Thank you again, Natasha, I appreciate it."
Natasha only nodded and smiled. For a brief second, Gepard wondered if he should just ask her about the possibility of pregnancy. But that thought was soon dismissed—his pride disallowing him to ask such a ridiculous question. So, Gepard only gave her a short nod of farewell and made to leave when—
"Oh, and Captain," Natasha stopped him again before he could fully escape, "hormonal changes are perfectly normal even without any stressors present. Including large changes in an individual's interpersonal relationships—the presence of strong pheromones in particular. So, I wouldn't worry too much."
Gepard stopped dead in his tracks. He just barely glanced back at Natasha, catching the knowing look on her face. Face flushing, he hurriedly said, "Ah. I see. Thank you," and rushed out the door.
It nagged at him for the rest of his workday. He lied to Natasha by omitting his relationship with Sampo, but did that mean Sampo was the cause of his hormonal changes? But then... that led him to a dangerous line of thinking.
Gepard pressed his lips together as he reviewed the patrol logs, but his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t as if he actually believed it. He wasn’t stupid. He knew how bodies worked. He had grown up around medics, soldiers, trained professionals. But when he eliminated the possibilities...
He was always on top of his health. He kept positive relationships. Work was actually less intense since the major Stellaron crisis had passed. Indeed, the only change in his life had been Sampo Koski.
What if you’ve got something cooking in there? Sampo's words echoed in Gepard's head. Frowning, Gepard stared hard at the wall.
There were undeniable truths: His appetite had changed. His moods had changed. He was tired more often, distracted. And yes, he had gained a little weight, though he hadn’t wanted to admit it until he noticed the way his uniform pants fit just a little tighter across the hips.
No nausea, no vomiting. He should be grateful for that at least.
He shook his head and stood from his desk, pacing.
This is ridiculous. You’re not pregnant. That’s not how this works. Alphas can't get pregnant. No miracle births have ever been recorded in history so why would you, of all people, be any different?
But Natasha had just said it was hormonal. That it could be anything. Or nothing. Maybe it was age. Maybe it was a subconscious thing. Or maybe he really was—
No! Stop that. Gepard groaned, dragging a hand over his face. It was all Sampo’s fault. Which, of course, he knew it really wasn't. But when he really stopped to consider it... they went at it like animals. And Sampo's rut could be as common as biweekly—a pretty hellish schedule—and Gepard had long since given clearance for Sampo to forgo condoms. Of course, Gepard made sure to check they were both free of STIs, and apart from that it was harmless.
Right?
Right.
He fell back onto his chair, gaze fixed on the ceiling.
It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t.
Except stranger things have happened. And Sampo had gotten into his head in the worst possible way.
Still, life went on. And Gepard made special efforts to take care of himself. He didn't let his cravings go wild, even when he so badly wanted a bottle of Kapo-Kali soda. He kept his emotions in check, lest they get too out of control. And he had to distract himself from any rogue thoughts about babies, pregnancies, and knots.
Shockingly, (or maybe not at all), his libido went through the roof. Baby or not, all Gepard could think about was sex. He was more mortified at himself than anything. Thoughts of Sampo and being plugged up by his knot cropped up in Gepard's mind at the absolute worst times. At work, in polite company, and even when he was dog-tired from a long day, his lust was simply uncontainable.
In order to protect his dignity and avoid a lifetime of humiliation, he used every tool at his disposal. And by tool, he meant Sampo. More specifically, Sampo's dick. Which brought him to this exact moment, weeks after his visit to Natasha's clinic, on one random cloudy day. He had come home from work, surprised to see Sampo was already in his home, making himself comfortable on the couch and sorting through a box of things.
Sampo had only greeted Gepard over his shoulder when Gepard marched over to the couch, stood right in front of Sampo, dropped to his knees, and began unzipping Sampo's trousers.
Sampo reacted accordingly. Stunned, he exclaimed, "Whoa. Eager, are we?" He held his hands up in the air, as though fearful Gepard would scratch him. Gepard said nothing as he tugged at Sampo's waistband, jostling at his pants to pull out his cock. Gepard removed his own bulky gloves and with his hands now bare, he grabbed the base of Sampo's cock tightly. Sticking out his tongue, he started licking. Kissing here and there and dragging long, wet stripes from Sampo's balls to the tip of the penis head. He smiled, seeing Sampo's cock twitch to life, growing hard with every passing second.
Sampo groaned, his face blooming a bright scarlet. He looked perverted, biting his bottom lip and drinking in the sight of Gepard on his knees. He tried to speak, "What brought this on, huh? You're not tired from work?"
Gepard hummed a non-answer. Instead focusing his attention entirely on Sampo and his dick. When Sampo was at least half-hard, Gepard wasted no time in taking him in his mouth. Sampo tensed, his legs, which flanked Gepard's sides, nearly knocking into him. Gepard closed his eyes as he relaxed his throat. He took all of Sampo into his mouth, tongue sliding and swiping across hot, veiny flesh.
Sampo moaned again, this time breathy and high-pitched.
He was fully hard within seconds.
It was like Gepard was possessed. He didn't quite feel like himself. He was overtaken by a lustful demon or something. Never in a million lifetimes would he have just started blowing Sampo seconds after walking through the door. He felt a little insane, in fact.
But these concerning thoughts of his sanity weren't enough to stop him from hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard on Sampo's cock.
"Ah—!" Sampo keened, his hands immediately reaching for the back of Gepard's head. Gepard felt Sampo's long fingers curl and grab onto his hair. They weren't pushing him away nor pulling him in. But they held him there, completely still, like a vice. If it was even possible, Gepard was even more turned on just from the sight of Sampo losing himself quickly to a blowjob.
It was hot and only served to fan the flames of Gepard's arousal. His free hand drifted to his own growing erection in his pants, lightly palming the bulge, not giving it too much thought. He just wanted to see Sampo come. He wanted Sampo to come in his mouth, see him utterly spent and dizzy from the high.
So that's exactly what Gepard aimed for. He didn't let up for even a second, sucking and bobbing his head. Sampo was barely coherent. His expression twisting in a kind of pleasure one could get lost in. He looked like he was in a daze. Gepard could tell Sampo was close, when all of the sudden, Sampo gripped Gepard's head with both hands and, drove him all the way to the base, locking him in place. Gepard very nearly chocked at the forceful movement. He had to brace himself on the couch's edge, heart hammering in his chest.
In his mouth, he could feel Sampo's dick—hot and twitching—about to come. Even with his head restricted, Gepard continued to try and suck, his tongue moving deftly when—
"Gepard...!" Sampo called out Gepard's name as he came, fingers digging into Gepard's scalp. Instinct told Gepard to pull off, but he willed himself to stay still, letting Sampo's cum coat the back of his throat. Sampo trembled and shook through his orgasm. Even if Gepard managed not to choke on Sampo's dick, he still might on Sampo's semen.
The moment seemed to last forever, until finally, Sampo's grip on Gepard's head loosened, and he fell backwards into the couch. Boneless. He sunk into the couch cushions, as Gepard coughed and caught cum dripping out of his mouth into his hand.
He knew better than to gag—they were both men, he could at least understand Sampo to that degree—and instead quickly rushed into the kitchen to rinse and spit in the sink. After washing his hands clean, he returned to the couch, flopping down next to Sampo.
Gepard felt equally as spent as Sampo looked even though he never came. (Giving head can be tough.)
A long peaceful silence passed before Sampo eventually spoke, "Are you rutting?"
Gepard chuckled, "No. Is that strange?"
"Hah! No. And I welcome these moments with open arms."
Another beat. Sampo's breathing was still audible, catching his breath.
And then Gepard said, "How soon will you be ready again?"
Sampo turned to look at Gepard, eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and then said, "Go get ready and I'll meet you in the bedroom."
...
Sampo all but collapsed onto the bed, his muscles giving out, exhausted. His breathing was loud and ragged, and his forehead was shiny with sweat.
Gepard lay next to him, similarly drained and wrecked. Neither of them were even rutting, so it was incredible how intense everything felt.
Between pants, Sampo laughed, "Geez, kitty, I started to think I was about to punch my ticket, you're so full of energy."
Gepard returned the joke with a huffy laugh, "Believe me, I didn't wake up today planning this."
"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. If there was ever a surprise to be had, I prefer this kind above all else."
Gepard smiled, his heart rate gradually returning to a steady beat. He felt a soothing wave of sleepiness rush over him when suddenly, he felt cum slide between his thighs—threatening to dirty the sheets—which was enough to revitalise him. Using the last bit of strength in him, he hauled himself to his feet and ran to the bathroom. After a quick shower, Gepard returned to the bedroom in a fresh change of pyjamas and slightly damp hair. Sampo was fast asleep.
Gepard smiled and as quietly as possible, picked up scattered clothes off the floor and into a laundry basket, flicked off the overhead light, and gingerly climbed into bed.
He was tired. He had to be after all that.
And yet, a thought lingered in his head as his eyelids grew heavy. Maybe he had grown self-conscious, but at times he thought—he thought he felt—Sampo's hands dig into his skin. Into his thighs, hips, and chest. He felt... heavier. Sampo hadn't said anything apart from the usual, (flattery, praise, babble, etc.) but Gepard knew his body had changed. He just didn't know in what way exactly.
Or maybe that was his exhaustion talking. Maybe it was all in his head. But all the same, he couldn't escape his own mind even as he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Gepard rose early, his job requiring him to be uniformed and ready even before sunrise. Sampo, Gepard learned, was not an early riser. At least, not before they began dating. But nowadays, Sampo was right there by Gepard in the early dawn of the day—and sometimes even up earlier.
That was one of those days, as Gepard awoke in bed and quickly realised that Sampo had already risen. He dragged himself out of bed and trudged toward the bathroom, where the mirror was still foggy from Sampo's own shower. The air was still humid, permeated by the lingering scent of Sampo's pheromones and body wash. Gepard went about his usual morning routine, slowly waking up as he brushed his teeth, tugged on his uniform, and padded into the main living area. As he did so, he caught the unmistakable scent of meat and eggs. Sampo was standing by the stove, barefoot, and dressed in comfortable, loose-fitting clothes. He didn't work so much as he 'found lucrative opportunities.' (An interesting choice of words, but in order to preserve Gepard's sanity and at the risk of negligence, decided against pursuing that line of questioning.)
"Morning," Sampo called out over his shoulder. Gepard peered into the kitchen and watched as Sampo killed the heat and plated the sausages and eggs. He yawned loudly, sleep still on his mind. Sampo snickered as he moved over to the rice cooker and scooped rice into two small bowls. "Still tired from yesterday?"
"Aren't you?" Gepard took the plates as Sampo handed it to him, and went to set them down on the dining table.
"I'm more worried about the baby," Sampo shot Gepard a cheeky grin, "strenuous exercise isn't a good thing."
Gepard sighed and slid into a chair at the table as Sampo joined him with bowls of rice and silverware in tow. He said, "You're still doing the baby joke?"
"I saw you smile a couple of times. Don't act like you don't find it kind of funny," Sampo pointed at him with a spoon, "plus, I bet the baby wouldn't like it if you kept denying its existence."
Gepard raised his eyebrows, "You are disturbed."
Sampo only chuckled as he got ready to tuck in, but stopped short when he noticed the way Gepard stared down at his rice bowl. He lowered his spoon and asked, "Something the matter?"
There was a short beat before Gepard said, voice soft, "I think I've gained weight."
Sampo blinked, apparently not expecting such a sudden change in topic. He tilted his head and tried to catch Gepard's eye, "Yeah?"
Gepard gave a short, stiff shrug. "My uniform fits a little tighter now. And I saw myself in the mirror last night. It's noticeable now. The difference."
Sampo watched him for a moment, his expression carefully neutral. Gepard just barely glanced up at Sampo before quickly looking back down at his plate. He wasn't sure if he wanted to bring up last night, or ask if Sampo also noticed it. Surely, he had to have noticed though, right? When body parts become more easily grabbable one took notice, right? It wasn't the end of the world if he gained weight, Gepard understood this. It was natural for his weight to fluctuate, and he'd gained weight before, intentionally or otherwise. He didn't care about the weight gain itself, but rather, the reason behind it.
Was it really just hormones? Or something else?
"I like it," Sampo said simply.
Gepard lifted his gaze back up to Sampo.
Sampo continued, his eyes soft and wearing a warm smile, "Regardless of how you feel, I like it. But I hope you don't feel bad about it either."
Gepard cracked a small smile, slightly embarrassed. He dropped his gaze back down to his plate and said, "Thanks. I only brought it up because... well, you didn't mention anything about it last night. Though, I suppose there wasn't any good reason to."
Sampo blinked rapidly, feigning surprise and mild offence, "What do you mean? I distinctly remember commenting on how handsome and lovely you looked. But of course, appearances aren't everything." Sampo reached across the table and scooped up Gepard's hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Not only do I like the way you look, I like the way you sound. I like the way you speak, the way you think... I like your scent, your strong sense of duty, your hobby of killing plants... The way you act when you're shy, when you're working, happy, angry, sleepy... I like it all."
Gepard's lips pinched into an embarrassed frown. He hid his eyes under his bangs and said, "You're too sappy."
"Now I can't be sappy?" Sampo leaned in closer, as much as he could from across the table, and lowered his voice, "I like you, Gepard. Always."
Gepard lifted his gaze to meet Sampo's eyes. Sampo's voice, whispery and sweet, made Gepard's heart skip a beat.
Damn him. And damn me for being so weak to it. Gepard thought, blushing beet red. Clearing his throat, Gepard said, "I know you do."
"And you like me too, right?"
"That goes without saying."
"And the baby?"
Gepard narrowed his eyes, unimpressed, "What about it?" Sampo didn't answer, only laughed and gave Gepard's hand another squeeze before pulling back and digging into his food. Gepard sighed, but the warm, fuzzy feeling Sampo's words gave him didn't leave him.
Yes, he was still concerned, but if what Natasha said was true, then he only needed to be more observant. If there was a hidden reason for the sudden changes in his body, then he only need to be on the look out for it. And Sampo... Sampo was just his partner. And he wasn't pregnant. Because it was physically impossible. Sampo couldn't get him pregnant, and he couldn't bear children.
Right. He could get through this.
Gepard gingerly lifted his spoon, paused, and glanced up.
Sampo tilted his head, cheeks full of food and chewing. "Whaa iin iih?" He asked, trying to curl his lips into a smile.
Gepard grinned, "Nothing."
From that day on, the weeks passed by without much incident. Gepard reevaluated his lifestyle, his training regime, and readjusted his daily schedule. Of course, despite Gepard's efforts to return to normalcy, the changes didn't stop.
One day, Sampo said to Gepard, "You're pheromones are changing, you know?" They were walking back to Sampo's hostel room after supper.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Gepard blinked and stared down at his body.
"Yeah, it's hard to explain it. They're... fainter, but also a lot more..." Sampo scratched the back of his neck. "...provocative?"
Gepard quirked an eyebrow. "That's an interesting word from you."
"It's the only word I can think of that doesn't sound dirty."
"Everything you say has a high chance of sounding dirty," Gepard shot back, smiling.
"Not my intention. But anyway," Sampo leaned in close, bumping his shoulder against Gepard's, "I'm not kidding. They've changed. And it's really obvious."
Gepard sighed, "Lots of things are changing. Apparently."
Sampo smirked, slowing his pace and slinking an arm around Gepard's waist. He tugged Gepard closer, forcing him into an awkward side hug as they walk. "Nothing wrong with a bit of change. And I like most of the changes so far, anyway."
"You only like the fact that I'm more willing to fuck outside of our ruts."
"That's a great example," Sampo flashed a bright smile. He stopped walking and turned to face Gepard head-on. He cupped Gepard's cheeks, squishing them slightly. "And I like these new pheromones, too. Actually, when I first noticed it, I swore it was an omega's scent. I almost got scared you were meeting someone else."
Gepard's eyes widened, shocked. He exclaimed, "What?! There's no way—"
"No, no, I know. I trust you," Sampo smiled and stroked Gepard's hair, bringing their foreheads together. "But that's why I'm saying something now. Your pheromones are changing. Radically. I know you can't tell, but..." Sampo tilted his head and pressed his lips against Gepard's cheek. His lips slid across Gepard's face, leaving soft kisses as he slowly moved towards Gepard's ear. In a low whisper, he said, "It's really driving me crazy, kitty. I can barely contain myself most days."
Gepard inhaled sharply. His heart thudded in his chest at the feel of Sampo's warm breath on his ear. He reached up to clutch at the fabric of Sampo's clothes, his body heating up.
"Ah..." Sampo breathed, "there it is again. It's so strong. I wish you could sense it." Sampo's hands trailed from Gepard's neck to his shoulders, and down his arms to finally sit firmly on his hips.
Gepard shuddered, his body already anticipating what would come next. In a small voice, he said, "Then should we hurry back?"
Sampo broke into a wide grin. "I thought you'd never ask."
The next few minutes was a brisk walk back to Sampo's hostel room. With Sampo clinging to Gepard, arms never leaving his waist, it made the walk back a challenge to say the least.
When at last they burst through the front door, Sampo immediately pinned Gepard to the wall. Their lips smashed together in a bruising kiss causing Gepard to shout in pain. Crazy is an understatement. Gepard thought. He doesn't get this bad unless it's his rut. As he ran his fingers through Sampo's hair, Gepard twisted and shifted his body to help Sampo undress him. His heavy trousers fell to the ground. Boots haphazardly kicked off. Sampo shrugged off his jacket, his metal accessories and belts falling to the floor in a loud clatter. Fleeting thoughts of taking a shower or moving toward the bed flashed through Gepard's mind, but he was too turned on to stop now. And he'd be damned to try and stop Sampo. After pulling off his gloves, Sampo's hands started to tug on Gepard's turtle neck, pulling it from its usually perfectly tucked-in manner and yanking it over Gepard's head.
"Hey, watch it!" Gepard shouted.
"Sorry," Sampo offered, not sounding sorry in the slightest, "I'm rushing."
"Yeah, I can tell."
Sampo snickered before latching his mouth to Gepard's nipple, his hand tweaking the other. Gepard squeaked and stifled a groan. His nipples—one of Sampo's favourite spots to tease Gepard—ended up being a liability during work when his nipples grew hard and itchy under his bulky uniform. It was annoying and yet, Gepard never stopped Sampo. He trembled as Sampo's hot mouth sucked on his nipple, his tongue lapping at skin like it were candy.
"Engh... Sampo..."
"Yes?" Sampo glanced up at Gepard, smiling and letting his teeth lightly graze skin. His face was a nice pink colour. "Right here, I think I can taste it. I can taste your pheromones."
Gepard huffed, bringing a hand to his mouth to partially hide his expression. His legs felt weak, and he was harder than he would have liked to admit. But so was Sampo. Except Sampo still had his pants on. And Gepard wanted them off.
"Come on, let's go to the bed," Gepard urged. But Sampo ignored him, turning his attention to other half of Gepard's chest. Gepard watched the way Sampo licked his lips before sticking his tongue out—the tip just barely meeting skin—before putting his mouth to Gepard's chest and sucking.
Gepard moaned, "Mmh! Engh..."
Sampo's hand played with his other nipple, flicking, rubbing and massaging it between fingertips. His tongue laved and drew little wet circles around the other.
"Haah... Sampo..." Gepard whined, his voice small.
"Hm?"
"It's itchy..." And it was. Gepard wasn't sure his nipples were supposed to be played with this much.
Sampo laughed, "Is that so? Then shall I help scratch the itch?"
Brows furrowing, Gepard frowned. "Huh? What do you me—" He suddenly keened.
Sampo, with his teeth, lightly bit down on Gepard's hard nipple. And with his fingernail, dug and scratched at Gepard's flesh. This did nothing to help alleviate the itchiness. It only made things worse, in fact. But Gepard, despite the discomfort, was still getting off to it. Getting off to having his nipples scratched and bitten.
"Hmnh!" Without thinking, Gepard brought a hand to the back of Sampo's head, locking him in place. He was getting greedy, wanting Sampo to keep sucking on his chest like a baby. It was embarrassing, but Sampo only chuckled, his breathy laughter a sweet sound.
"So cute, kitty..." Sampo murmured. He squeezed and groped Gepard's chest like he was kneading dough, his hold firm. "You like having your nipples played with?"
"Yes, Sampo..." Gepard gasped, his dignity fully discarded in favour of chasing pleasure. With one hand pressing Sampo's head against his chest, Gepard's other hand traveled down to his crotch, where he lightly palmed himself.
Randomly, Sampo made a sound, "Hmm?" Gepard ignored it, his thoughts a bit too preoccupied.
But again, Sampo made another sound—a confused one, "Hmph?!"
And then—
Sampo suddenly pulled off, a clear line of spit connecting his lips to Gepard's chest. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and just... stood there.
Gepard panted and glanced down. Sampo was staring wide-eyed, his brows furrowed.
"Wha... what is it?" Gepard asked. Sampo said nothing. His eyes darted from one nipple and back to the other, like he didn't know what he was looking at. Gepard frowned.
Again, he asked, "Sampo? What's wrong? What is it?" Suddenly Sampo licked Gepard's nipple again, and Gepard jumped. "Ack! Seriously, Sampo. What is it?"
Sampo shook his head, plain confusion written all over his face. Tentatively he reached up to Gepard's exposed chest and, clutching tightly, he squeezed.
Gepard flinched and jerked away. It wasn't like Sampo's usual tender or teasing groping.
It hurt.
"Ow. What the fuck? What are you doing?" Gepard was already leaning down to grab his clothes when Sampo stopped him and grabbed him by the wrist.
"No, stop. Look," Sampo gestured to Gepard's chest. Gepard looked down, irritated.
And that's when he saw... something. Something leaking from his nipples.
He tensed. Was he seeing things? Was it just saliva or sweat or...
With a sinking feeling, he reached up and pressed two fingers gently to his chest.
A bead of milky liquid welled up.
He froze. Gepard said nothing. Couldn't. He blanched.
If there was ever something to stop two extremely horny adults in their tracks, it would be the shocking discovery of lactation. After sufficient freaking out, Gepard and Sampo redressed (save for Gepard's top—his chest still leaking), and sat down on the edge of the bed, talking.
"What is happening?"
Sampo spoke in a light, teasing manner, "I don't know. This is a bit above my pay grade."
Gepard didn’t laugh. "This is serious, Koski. I don't get what's happening," Gepard balled his hands into fists, his jaw clenched tight, "I don't know what the fuck is going on. Why—"
“Hey,” Sampo’s voice softened. He reached over and placed a hand gently on Gepard’s trembling shoulder. “Look at me.” Gepard turned to look at Sampo. He looked scared. Confused. Anxious. His pheromones were going haywire, calling out for help. "I know you're freaking out. But whatever it is, I'm right here. We'll deal with it together, okay?"
"Do you think it's real?" Gepard asked suddenly, his worst fear surfacing immediately.
Sampo paused. The 'it' he was referring to was the joke they'd been tossing around for weeks. The impossible pregnancy.
The baby.
"...I don't know," he said honestly, "I've never seen or heard of anything like this happening. Not to any alphas at least, but..." He glanced down at Gepard's chest, and then back up to his face, "we'll be fine no matter what." He offered a smile.
Gepard took a shuddering breath. He nodded, trying to calm his nerves. And then another beat of silence passed between them as they sat, deep in thought.
A baby? Really? It's not possible. But the evidence is hard to ignore. And now I'm lactating? What is this? Gepard's mind was a confusing jumble of thoughts. Should I tell someone? No. I can't do that. Not until I can confirm it. Maybe... this is normal? For adult alphas. Should I see a doctor? But what if I'm wrong? What if there is no baby? And then I run the risk of looking insane showing up to the doctors asking about babies and pregnancies.
Gepard sighed. Just a few minutes ago, he was prepared to drop his panties for Sampo. But now, he just desperately wanted to curl into a ball. Or rather, he wanted to curl into a ball and have Sampo be the big spoon.
And that was exactly what he did. He flopped backwards down on the bed. He met Sampo's eye and said, "Hold me?"
Sampo smiled, his eyes soft, "Of course." He lay down next to Gepard and encircled his arms around Gepard's torso. Burying his face in Gepard's shoulder, Sampo held onto Gepard like a giant teddy bear.
Still feeling troubled, Gepard tried to relax. And as the quiet in the room stretched, Gepard felt his heartbeat grow steady. He shut his eyes.
And then, "Ol' Sampo's instincts were pretty spot on though, right?"
"Koski."
Sampo just chuckled and nuzzled Gepard's neck with his nose.