#sekut

At the moment, Kurt’s sleeping mind is dreaming of attacking the fried chicken in the fridge, not even bothering to heat it up, rolling around in it naked as he devours drumstick and wings, till he’s covered in meat juice and grease…which might just entice his husband’s wolf to join him.

Not that Sebastian, or his wolf, would require much enticing, especially if Kurt was snacking sans clothes, but it’s still fun to think about.

Kurt is sure that it’s his hungry, growling stomach pulling him awake, with an urge to raid the fridge, but it’s not. The rumbling he feels tickling his torso isn’t coming from inside, but from outside, where his husband has his shirt lifted to his sternum, lips pressed against his tummy as he sings silly, made up songs, and sometimes blows raspberries.

“’bastian…” A drowsy Kurt giggles when his husband’s lips murmur against his stomach again. “What are you doing?”

“I’m singing to our daughter,” Sebastian answers, acting as if the whole practice is so ridiculously normal that Kurt is a fool for not realizing, even in a dead sleep.

“I know that,” Kurt says. “But it’s 3:45 in the morning.”

“She’s the one who kicked me awake.” Sebastian rubs his nose along a lump that he imagines is his daughter’s head, giving the baby wolf girl butterfly kisses.

“So, you thought keeping her awake was the way to go?”

“Well, I…I don’t feel like I spend enough time with her.” He settles his cheek beside the crown of her head, hoping she can feel his warmth.

“Sebastian, you took a twelve week leave of absence, you’re going to get six months paternity leave. I think you’ll be good.”

“I just…I want to make sure I’m around enough,” Sebastian confesses. “Maybe…you know, maybe I should consider early retirement.”

“If that’s what you want, but I know you.” Kurt laughs, his stomach shaking and Sebastian’s head jostling. “You’re gonna go nuts!”

“Nah. Not with her to play with.” Sebastian smiles at the thought of a lifetime spent with his daughter - playing outside, climbing trees, running as their wolves through the desert. “I just…I wish I knew if she would want that. I wish I knew what she thought of me.”

Kurt bites his lower lip, both because his husband is the absolute most adorable father-to-be that has ever existed, but also out of guilt. Kurt has a psychic connection to their daughter. He doesn’t know if all pregnant wolves develop it. He’s never thought to ask. But for some reason, he can read her mind. She talks to him, tells him what she’s feeling. She has what might be described as an incredibly old soul (which is a term that Kurt has always despised, but for their little girl, their little Adona, it fits). They discuss things like the music Kurt listens to, the stories Sebastian reads to her, the things Kurt chooses to eat (she says she’s not a fan of grande nonfat mochas and Kurt wants to know whose daughter is she?) But Sebastian doesn’t get to have that with her. After she’s born, they’ll have to develop their relationship as father and daughter slowly. He’ll have to learn her at the pace of a normal, growing child, while Kurt will have had a head start. Kurt imparts everything he knows about Adona to his husband…but Sebastian has never mentioned this.

And Adona, hanging on every word she can hear with Sebastian’s cheek pressed against her head, is quick to answer.

“She thinks you’re funny,” Kurt says, running his fingers through his husband’s hair and pulling his ear closer to his stomach, “and that you’re a good singer. She likes the sound of your voice.”

“She does?” Sebastian asks, his voice heavy.

“Mmm-hmm. She thinks you sound kind…and handsome. I told her she was half right.”

Sebastian chuckles, and this time, Kurt can hear tears. “W-what else?”

Kurt sighs a blissful, contented sigh. “She can’t wait to meet you.”

Sebastian’s eyes snap up, sparkling in the fairy lights strung around their bedroom. “Really?”

“Really?”

“Is she thinking anything else?”

“Yeah. She’s thinking she’s exhausted, so she’s going back to sleep.” Kurt yawns. “And I have to say, if that fried chicken in the fridge wasn’t calling me right now, that would be an excellent idea.”

Sebastian carefully pulls Kurt’s Henley down over his bulging stomach, giving a finally caress to the place where his daughter’s tiny head lay. He looks at his husband, pleasantly plump and glowing, so much softer in pregnancy than usual, when he’s working 37 hours in a 24 hour day, too busy to eat, yet with two hours to spend at the gym. Much of his schedule has been chopped to bits, especially considering how monumental his pregnancy is, what it means for the future of the werewolf community. Every wolf they know keeps an eye out for him. Kurt often jokes that he can’t leave the penthouse without feeling a dozen pairs of eyes on him. He’s beginning to get paranoid. But he loves it, as does Sebastian. That’s part of what being a wolf is, this community that they share. Regardless, it means that his daily jaunts to the gym for sessions with his trainer and his high-impact spin classes have been traded for yoga and prenatal Pilates. Sebastian has to admit that pregnancy suits his husband, though had the tables been turned, he would have been more than willing, and proud, to carry their daughter.

“You look like you’re doing some heavy thinking,” Kurt comments, tilting his head to meet his husband’s far off gaze. “What’s going on in your head right now?”

“I was just thinking,” Sebastian says, his thoughts straying in a completely different direction, “of something that could help your appetite and your energy level.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. He knows what Sebastian is thinking.

It’s what he’s always thinking.

Kurt doesn’t even have to say a word to come back with a witty remark. His face says it all.

“It’s not even sunrise,” Kurt says.

“I didn’t know there was a specified time.”

“There isn’t, but…”

“You know what they say?” Sebastian crawls cautiously over his husband, his wolf growling within his head to become one with his mate.

“What?” Kurt asks, scooting down the mattress, knowing that even if he didn’t want to, which he really wants to, he probably wouldn’t win this one. His pregnancy has become as much a constant craving for Sebastian as chocolate has been to Kurt. “What do who say?”

“Making love to your pregnant mate” – Sebastian unbuttons the four buttons of Kurt’s Henley, exposing the hollow of his throat, the first place he intends to kiss – “recapturing that moment when the two of you first created life, is the most potent aphrodisiac in the world for a bonded pair.”

“Well, you should know.” Kurt gasps as Sebastian’s lips come in contact with that soft divot of flesh. “We only have sex every five minutes, it seems.”

“Are you saying no?” Sebastian asks, slipping his hands up Kurt’s shirt, fingertips gently skirting his swollen belly, reaching for his sensitive nipples.

Kurt takes the bolder route, shoving a hand down his husband’s pants and grabbing hold of his cock. Kurt’s wolf howls in delight when Sebastian’s head pops up, his wolf whining out of desperation and need, already fucking his fist.