She also wasn't one of those trashy friends who sniped partners, hooked up with "good ones" first, or sopped up "leftovers" just to rub it in. It wasn't her style. She didn't do it, not that way, not for that reason. She liked her life, but she had seen inklings of... something. Retsuko had been through a few things. And she was happy again, more naturally and more securely, with less panic and beer drinking to calm her insecurity. That something had a name. Haida. Nice. Her friend was growing up.
Growing up...
She wasn't coy. She wasn't. SHE WASN'T! but she talked in mazes about this and that when he went to drink with Retsuko again. About this that and the other. And relationships. She wasn't angling to snap up an ex because she wanted chewed-up leftovers. But Retsuko knew someone who was single. And by coincidence he was an ex. A coworker. A fixup.
Fixer upper...
She didn't blame Retsuko. It would be hard to explain... the vast amount needing explaining about the charmingly vacant wah that wedged into her text messages. His eyes were limpid pools of television static indicating the mentality that kept the space cadet in orbit. A potted plant, so saith his legitimate best friend when tapped for help. And the big lug wanted to help. And in a large sense, he did, just by explaining how it had all gone wrong before. He had kept it all going, telling him what to do. He didn't take hints or rely on clues. With explicit instructions he could do his job, even as the out-of-pocket prince, a situation arrived at because such things didn't find their way into instructions, meaning they got forgotten.
He wasn't dumb, or disconnected from reality. He was just a soft-spoken weirdo. Fine. She was a loud-spoken weirdo, so far as others were concerned. That was an important part of the Resasuke learning curve. That and his passion for canned coffee. Usually one brand of canned coffee. She got into the habit of both putting a sappy note on each can, and explicitly reminding him to read them before drinking. It was a bit twee, but she dressed like an Economic Miracle era housewife, she might as well try on the actions for size.
She could handle "explicit instructions." Retsuko probably hadn't thought about it. That spherical Manumaru probably hadn't explicitly realized it, but she and Resasuke were made for each other. She could be accused of being pushy. And he needed a push-start to rev him up, clear the clouds and bring the rocket man back down to earth. He knew what he liked, he wasn't going to put up with anything bad. But he wanted, craved, someone to set the targets he could knock down. Those little love notes he was reminded to read got through to him. Even when settling down blankly in his house of potted plants beside her, he leaned in and actually enjoyed the company.
Neither actually bothered with the theater of protection. At first it seemed unlikely to be necessary. Then, she just didn't care. The government loved to lavish money on mothers, and though she could have pulled some out of pocket moolah from the prince she wouldn't bother taking him for child support, and would even act as if they both had custody. His awareness of certain things was low. Not absent but low. He knew how genitals worked. He didn't know his were, on his frame, improbable. He also didn't seem to understand what stamina was, as he never seemed to run out of it. Maybe that was the coffee. He went along and could be made to be on top. She never realized she could be a good powerbottom for the right agreeable top, when that was the play of the day.
She was nearly 100% certain he didn't have a complex, but he was (in his spacey way) mad about sucking her breasts when he had the chance. Given the relative difference in size, his head was nearly always in range for it. He never said the word mommy, but there was just enough overtone to make her feel an excited rush. More so when the regular insistence delivered what he was sucking for. His magic maw actually got her milking. Maybe. Hard to judge the chicken or the egg. Or really, the wah and her egg.
Maybe he stimulated her enough. Maybe it "took" earlier than she thought and her body went into overdrive. He sure liked it. And that was a big deal. For her. And she had to be explicit.
"Your milk is good. You make so much. I like it."
"Yeah... yeah... reason for that. One of your seeds hit the jackpot in this painter pot. Heh..."
"... I don't understand..."
"Little joke for me. Lighten the mood. I'm pregnant Resasuke. That might not be why I started giving you milk but it's keeping it going stronger than before."
"... Will I need to marry you?"
"I don't know about need. Probably a good idea. Benefits and all. And I figure... we're good together."
"Tell me when to be there, and which suit I need."
"Hey, no problem. It's why we're good together. I can handle this, even if my plans sometime... heh. Don't always have a plan, or a sane one, but I can do my best."
"I'm happy about it."
"Never figured, but I really am too. I'll soften up, go full on mommy. That should make you happy, yeah?"
"I like your milk. I like your directions when I'm confused. And I like we can be mother and father."
"Never heard a kink so wholesome. You're something else."
And a line she never anticipated. That meant the whole world.
"I love you. I love you more than canned coffee."
Resasuke and Puko (c) Sanrio
Art by
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