Chapter Text
A dense, heavy fog begins its descent on the Gorkhon river, as gentle and flowing as the water itself. It's peaceful, calm and quiet as autumn falls across the steppe once again. Artemy stretches with a groan, his arms reaching up above his head before settling back down against the smooth boulder. He yawns and rubs at his eyes, slumping against the rock as he looks back to his family. Mishka's up to her knees in the river, seemingly unperturbed by the chill autumn water as she wades around in her waterproof overalls and jacket. Stakh sits by the shore, on a flat rock protruding from the soggy ground, watching and directing her where to step next. He tells her to halt, suddenly, his voice a low murmur, and she does, arms poised and ready. They wait a moment, tension leaking from them both before he tells her "go!" and Mishka launches her arm out, suddenly capturing the nearby frog that sits upon a floating bundle of sticks. She holds it up above her head in both hands, showing Stakh her prize with a wide-eyed look on her face. Stakh gives her a gentle round of applause, a slight grin on his face, and nods.
"Well done. I think you're ready to show Uncle Grief your skills now."
"Can I-"
"We're not keeping that slimy thing." Stakh interrupts, unaffected as she glowers at him. "Please put it back now."
Artemy chuckles to himself, watching them with warm contentment. It amazes Artemy how close they've become. Initially, Mishka wanted nothing to do with Stakh when Artemy first asked him to move in; she often hid behind Artemy's legs and glared up at Stakh. However, as time went on, Stakh made small efforts to reach out, teaching her how to write and sound out letters, words, numbers. He showed her the best way to harvest flowers and herbs and often tucked her into bed at night, waking her up the following day with her favourite breakfasts. Stakh never flinched when she put some disgusting grub in his hand, nor did he force Mishka to look at him when she spoke, treating her fairly and no different than Spichka. Eventually, Mishka took to Stakh like a duck to water, and Artemy had difficulty separating the two, which was fine, of course. They suited one another just fine. Mishka seemed to bring out newfound patience in Stakh that hadn't been seen since before Artemy left for college, and it was slowly becoming as if his old friend was coming back. Artemy can't help but wonder what Stakh would be like with a little one of their own.
He feels his face blush and tucks his chin into his chest, playing with a wayward string on his sweater. It's not the first time Artemy's imagined this. Whenever Stakh sits alone in his chair, Artemy imagines the book in his hands to be a baby, their baby, or when Stakh busies himself cooking for the family, Artemy thinks how good he'd look with a child strapped to his torso, napping against his broad chest. Artemy groans and crosses his legs, squeezing tightly as a heavy heat settles low in his stomach. He presses a hand against his belly, and Artemy can't stop the sudden yearning in his heart. He wants another child, he wants Stakh's child, but Artemy has no idea how to approach the discussion. He's mentioned the prospect of more children, specifically babies, to Stakh before, who just shrugged and said, "you missed your chance. All of the orphaned infants have been adopted already, Cub." He was too awkward to correct Stakh after that, and the conversation ended. But he never gave up on the thought, mulling it over until the mere idea alone became torturous.
Artemy looks up, his gaze flickering over to watch Stakh and Mishka again. He's holding her hat upside down and speaking to in a low voice; Artemy isn't able to make out the words. Mishka's leaning up against Stakh's knee as she pets the little frog in the hat, nodding along with his words. She makes a comment, and Stakh laughs, just a short, gentle huff, and he pats her head endearingly. Artemy's stomach tightens, and a finality settles over him.
He'll try again.
Artemy whimpers against Stakh's lips as he presses a third finger inside Artemy's cunt, stretching his hole wide around the long, thick digits. Stakh doesn't wait, knowing Artemy's growing impatient, and fucks him hard, pumping into Artemy's open hole with a singular, intent focus. Artemy's nails scratch and dig into the muscle of Stakh's shoulders as he abruptly cums, wetly gasping as he squirts hard into Stakh's calloused palm. He's still shaking when Stakh pulls his hand out and reaches for the box of condoms, and Artemy quickly reaches out, grasping onto Stakh's slender wrist.
"Stakh, wait, hold on," Artemy says as he pulls the hand back, placing it next to his head instead. Stakh looks down at him with a furrowed brow, and his mouth pulls down into a tight, worried frown. Artemy breathlessly chuckles at his expression and leans up, kissing Stakh tenderly before sliding his hands up and around Stakh's broad shoulders and dragging him down into a tight embrace. Artemy tucks Stakh against his chest cozily, and he relaxes into the embrace, just enough to be comfortable before Stakh hesitantly pulls his head up from the kiss and regards Artemy curiously, and his eyebrows pinch together in confusion.
"What are you planning, Cub?"
"I- ok, hear me out," Artemy says, huffing as Stakh quirks a brow. "I, um, I've been thinking-"
"Hm, that's never a good sign."
"Wh- hey, shut up!" Artemy says, laughing regardless of his annoyance. "So, anyway, as I was saying- I've been thinking of adding, um, a new addition to the family."
Stakh pauses, tilting his head slightly. "Artemy- you're talking to me about adoption right now ?"
Artemy groans. "What, no! God, Stakh, you sure are dense when you want to be. No, I want-" He takes a deep breath. It's now or never. "I want to get pregnant, Stakh. I want to have a baby, our baby."
Stakh's eyes widen, and he suddenly pulls back from the embrace, sitting back on his calves as his jaw falls slack at Artemy's admission. Artemy stays silent as Stakh processes the question, letting his hand drift over Stakh's hip in smooth, circular motions. Eventually, Stakh shakes his head and looks at Artemy with a dumbfounded look.
"Why?"
"Um, because I want one?"
"Ugh, no," Stakh says and shakes his head again, suddenly grabbing the hand on his hip and holding it still. "Why with me? You can't possibly think I'll be a good father, do you?"
Artemy blinks up at Stakh, snorting in amusement. "Stakh, you're already a father. Both Mishka and Spichka know you as their parent."
Artemy hopes his words are enough to reassure, but Stakh looks away, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as he thinks. "No, I'm not. I don't have the same relationship with them as you do, Artemy. I'm Mishka's guardian, but she'll never acknowledge me as her father, and I won't pressure her into seeing me as anything more if she doesn't want to. And I barely even count as a mentor to Spichka." A sigh, so deep and sad it makes Artemy's heart twinge. "They're my wards, Cub, but they're not my children."
Artemy frowns as Stakh speaks, nodding along regardless of how much it stings. Stakh's right. Ah, he hates it when Stakh's right. The children don't see him as their father, a caregiver for sure, but they don't have that bond with Stakh as they do with Artemy, and they probably never will. Silently, Artemy lays there a moment, taking a minute to consider his following words carefully before clearing his throat.
"Well, then," Artemy speaks slowly, prying his hand out of Stakh's tight grip and holding it tenderly instead, "to answer your question, yes. I do think you'd be a good father. Perhaps even a great one. You're devoted, attentive, patient. You know how to care for others, and even if you don't, you won't give up on them. And you know what not to do as a parent, which can be a good thing, Stakh." Artemy pulls the hand up to his mouth, kissing Stakh's knuckles adoringly. "I remember what your mother was like, kheerkhen . You're nothing like her, you're better than her, and if you're scared of repeating old history, it's alright; I'm here. You won't be alone."
Artemy's gaze flickers up, and he pouts when he sees Stakh's tense, worried expression, his face red and scowling. The large vein in his throat visibly thickens as he swallows hard, and his eyes briefly turn to look at Artemy, shining miserably. Artemy smiles at him, just a slight, modest grin as he tugs Stakh into another tight embrace. He kisses the old scars on his scalp lovingly as Stakh hesitantly leans into Artemy's arms, becoming a solid, dead weight as he slowly but surely relaxes. Artemy waits for Stakh, gently caressing the length of his back with featherlight strokes, tracing the sharp curves of muscle and bone. They remain like that until Stakh speaks, his voice clearer than before.
"Alright, Cub," he says into the skin of Artemy's collarbone, his days-old stubble lightly scratching Artemy's chest. "I can't guarantee anything, but… we can at least try."
Artemy places a hand on Stakh's cheek, guiding his head up. Their eyes meet, and Artemy grins, wide and giddy, delight flowing out of him like an aura. Stakh leans in and presses a hard kiss to his lips, tilting his head slightly as he props himself up on his forearms. Artemy dips his head left to deepen the kiss but suddenly gasps when a rough, calloused hand brushes up against his still sensitive cunt, teasing the wet folds slowly. Stakh presses two fingers inside, all the way down to his knuckles, and curls up. Artemy spreads his legs and bucks into Stakh's hand, digging his nails into the meat of his shoulders again, leaving deep, crescent-shaped indents.
"Oh, Stakh, c'mon, stop teasing. Put a baby in me already." Artemy says breathlessly, shivering as Stakh brushes his thumb against Artemy's erect clit in smooth, circular motions. He twists his wrist, pushing hard against his g-spot before suddenly pulling out, leaving Artemy achingly empty and clutching desperately around nothing. Artemy whines in surprise as Stakh grabs his thighs and places his legs over his shoulders, folding Artemy over as Stakh leans in close, encompassing his entire body with his own. The head of his cock ghosts along Artemy's wet hole, and Artemy trembles, biting and licking and kissing Stakh's mouth as he slowly teases the inner folds.
"Stakh- Stakh , please- " Artemy gasps as Stakh abruptly slides into him, the motion fluid and smooth as Artemy's body accepts him willingly. Stakh doesn't hesitate any longer, and his hips fuck hard into Artemy's cunt, pressing deep inside him. Stakh hides his face into the crook of Artemy's neck, biting into his throat as Artemy suddenly comes again with a sob, his nails scratching across Stakh's shoulders as he cries out.
"Stakh, yes, yes , just like that!" Artemy's shuts his eyes tight and holds onto Stakh's back, clinging to him desperately. Stakh's hands are on his thighs, his grip crushing the solid muscle. He hopes that they bruise; Artemy wants to feel them tomorrow. Stakh grunts noncommittally, and Artemy continues speaking, just short of babbling. "C-come inside, please, Stakh. Fuck me pregnant. I, ah! I want to feel you breed me; please, I'm so ready!"
Artemy keens as Stakh slams into his sloppy cunt, his hips halting deep inside Artemy as he comes. Artemy holds him close, shaking as hot, wet heat fills his body and leaves him satisfied, right down to his marrow. Stakh moves to pull away, but Artemy does not relent his grip, pushing up and over and flipping Stakh onto his bed, settling into his lap comfortably. Artemy rocks his hips quickly, groaning as Stakh's softening cock stays half-hard. It barely takes a minute of hard, fast rocking before Stakh's coming again, his body going rigid before falling lax onto the bed, a dazed, starry-eyed look on his face.
"There we go," Artemy all but purrs, triumphantly grinning as he pulls off and arranges himself onto Stakh's side, snuggling into the crook of his arm. He starts to feel hot cum leak down his thigh and presses his legs together, his knees shaking with barely muted excitement. Stakh doesn't look at Artemy, his eyes closed and relaxed; though, he does drop a hand over Artemy's hip, bringing him in closer. They lay there in comfortable silence, their slow, steady breathing being the only sound filling the air. Stakh clears his throat first, still not looking to Artemy as he speaks.
"Thank you, Artemy."
Artemy's face scrunches in confusion, "Huh? Oh, sure, you're welcome, but what for?"
"For, um… for knowing what I needed to hear. It- ah, nevermind."
Artemy props himself up against Stakh's chest and waits until Stakh meets his gaze before speaking, looking him in the eyes as Artemy replies.
"Please, Stakh, speak your mind. I want to hear what you have to say."
But Stakh, stubborn, stupid, endearing Stakh, shakes his head. "No. I've said enough; just accept my thanks."
Artemy's jaw grinds as he holds his tongue. He wants Stakh to speak up, to share his thoughts for once and not feel like he has to hide them away. But Artemy knows if he tries to force the issue, Stakh will shut down completely, and they'll be back at square one. So instead, he nods and presses a light kiss to Stakh's cheek.
"Yeah, alright, I accept it. But if you want to talk more about this, I'm here for you, okay? I want to communicate more."
Stakh nods, the slightest tilt of his head as the hand on Artemy's hip reaches for his head, combing through the thick wavy hair. Stakh presses Artemy down to his head, holding him in close.
"That's enough talk; rest now. You've got a long day tomorrow, Cub."
"Oh? Do I?" Artemy says as he lays his head down on Stakh's solid chest, listening to the steady heartbeat underneath his ear.
"Mhm. You're not leaving this bed until I know for sure you're pregnant. So, as I said, rest."
Artemy feels a red-hot blush pool in his cheeks, and he turns his head, pressing his flushed face into Stakh's chest. He grins, wide and silly, as Stakh's nail gently scratches his scalp, seemingly unaffected by his own words. But Artemy knows better; he can hear Stakh's erratic heartbeat pounding in his ribcage, feel the heat radiating from him as Stakh flushes.
"Alright, Stakh, that sounds like a deal."
Artemy wakes to the gentle, scratching sounds of pencil on paper and blearily cracks an eye open, still not yet quite awake. He blinks up at Stakh, who's sitting upright and cross-legged on the bed. He's still naked from last night, the comforter barely covering his waist. He's utterly unbothered by his nudity as he fills out a journal in his lap, a stiff, stern look on his face, but Artemy pays it no mind. Stakh always makes a face when he writes. Instead, Artemy pays attention to the dark, purple bags under his eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh.
"You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"
Stakh doesn't look at him, though he does stop writing. "Go back to sleep, Cub. It's still early.
"Yeah? What time is it?" Artemy asks as he stretches, groaning when his sore body protests.
Stakh merely shrugs, briefly glancing down at Artemy. "Early, Artemy. Sun's not even up yet."
Artemy nods, letting out a small huff before he smirks mischievously and sits up, rolling over to settle into Stakh's lap. Stakh snaps his journal shut and quickly throws it to the nightstand, glowering as Artemy takes his hands and places them on his waist. Artemy rolls his hips languidly and leans in, kissing Stakh, lovingly messy, as he wraps his arms around his neck.
"What part," Stakh murmurs against Artemy's lips, his voice low and husky as Artemy pushes him back against the soft bedding, going down with a quiet 'oof,' "of 'go back to bed' did you not understand?"
Artemy shrugs and idly plays with Stakh's pierced nipples, grinding down on his hardening cock lazily. "You promised you'd spend the whole day breeding me, Stakh. I'm just starting early."
Stakh squirms when Artemy pinches and pulls at his piercings, shivering as he holds in a groan. "Ah- fuck, you're so impatient."
"Can't help it. I want it so bad." Artemy moans, lifting his hips and gently settling down on Stakh's stiff erection, his thighs shaking as he's split apart. "I want this to be the first of many, Stakh. You've no idea how bad I want you to breed me."
Stakh bucks his hips, hands squeezing around Artemy's soft waist as he fucks up into his hot cunt, still wet and slick with cum from a few hours ago. Artemy noisily cries out as he slams his hips down to meet with Stakh's rough thrusts, and Stakh reaches up, clamping a firm hand around his mouth.
"Shut it, or you'll wake everyone up!" Stakh says in a low growl, gritting his teeth as Artemy's cunt tightens around his cock. Artemy tilts his head before pulling Stakh's fingers into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to suck on Stakh's middle and ring finger languidly. Stakh shivers and swallows hard, watching in rapt attention as Artemy whines around his digits, bouncing harder until he is suddenly sobbing out a muted cry. He cums onto Stakh's stomach, thighs trembling as he squirts hard. Artemy's entire body vibrates as he plants his hands on Stakh's chest, squeezing his eyes shut and bouncing his hips, fucking himself onto Stakh's thick cock while Stakh meets him halfway, thrusting his hips up with a quick, rhythmless motion. Stakh plays with the top of Artemy's tongue and deeply blushes when he moans, a small river of drool falling down Artemy's chin as he obscenely sucks on Stakh's long fingers. Artemy's eyes flutter open, and he looks down at Stakh with a desperate look of debauchery.
Stakh's body goes taut when he suddenly cums, the hand pressing inside Artemy's mouth flying out and gripping him by the jaw to hold him still. Artemy's breath hitches and he trembles as Stakh cums inside, heat flooding deep within his belly. He stays still until Stakh's tight grip on his jaw relents, and he pulls away, falling limp on the bed. Stakh's eyes are closed shut as Artemy removes himself from his lap, falling onto his side of the bed gracelessly. They lay there, panting in tandem with one another, as they catch their breath. Eventually, Artemy rolls over to his side with a grunt, propping his cheek upon his hand to look down at Stakh with a smug look.
"You're damn good at this, Stakh," Artemy says and giggles when Stakh's blush deepens, running down to his sweaty chest. Artemy reaches up and idly runs his hand across Stakh's torso, sighing airily. "I'm glad you are, though... I'm excited, you know. Really excited!" Artemy smiles wistfully, watching his pointer finger trace the broad curve of Stakh's pectoral. "Hmm, I never told you this, but I used to daydream about having a large family with you, especially when I was away at college; I just knew that you'd be a great father. Sometimes I would get so embarrassed when I realized how bad I wanted it, but the thought of returning home someday, back to you, got me through some of my worst days there, so I wasn't all that ashamed, I guess. What about you, did you ever think of me, Stakh? Did you ever consider us having a family together?"
A loud, rumbling snore answers Artemy's question and breaks him out of his tender reverence, looking over at Stakh's face with a baffled gaze. Sure enough, he's completely asleep, head lulled to the side and mouth slightly parted as he snores noisily. Artemy lets out a heavy breath and scratches his head, feeling flustered that he talked to himself. Again.
Well, Artemy can't get too upset; at least Stakh's finally getting some rest. Instead, he leans over, presses a gentle kiss to Stakh's forehead, and eases back down onto the mattress, hand resting protectively on his stomach as he watches Stakh grumble nonsense in his sleep. Artemy drifts in and out of consciousness until the sun rises and Stakh begrudgingly wakes. Artemy rolls over then, kisses him lovingly, and they begin again.