The door's slam still rang in Taichi's ears long after Yu and the stroller disappeared from sight. He stood frozen, hand half-raised as if he could pull time back by sheer force of will. His wrist tingled where Yu had yanked away, his cheek stung faintly from the echo of that slap weeks ago, but none of it compared to the hollow ache carving through his chest now.
He stumbled back inside, the quiet house swallowing him whole. He sank down onto the couch, the same couch where Yu once napped with the twins curled safely against his chest, where their laughter used to spill. Now, it was just him—alone with his guilt.
"Why did I say that? Why did I do that?"
His voice was hoarse, cracking into the emptiness. His hands dug into his hair, tugging as if he could pull the fury, the suspicion, the stupidity out of his skull. Yu's face haunted him—the betrayal, the tears, the terror in his voice when he said—
"You're hurting me!"
The twins' cries still echoed in his head, tiny wails begging for their mama while he was the monster making them scream. He buried his face into his palms and let the tears fall, silent and hot. His world was crumbling, and it was his own hands that struck the cracks.
For once, Taichi didn't know how to fight. He only knew he'd give anything—anything—to undo what just happened.
---
By the time Yu reached the gates of Isuke's manor, his legs were trembling, half from exhaustion and half from the weight of his decision. The stroller wheels rattled softly on the cobblestones, the twins dozing fitfully after the chaos. Yu's eyes were swollen from crying, his wrist still red where Taichi had gripped him too tightly.
The massive doors opened before he could even knock. Isuke was already there, as though he'd been waiting. His smile softened immediately when he saw Yu's state—eyes raw, shoulders hunched, trembling like glass about to shatter.
"Yu…"
Isuke's voice was honey-smooth, gentle in a way it never was when others were around. He closed the space between them quickly, his arms sliding around Yu and drawing him against his chest. Yu let out a sound, small and broken, and before he knew it, he was leaning into that warmth, clutching weakly at Isuke's shirt.
"Come in."
Isuke whispered, his lips brushing Yu's hair.
"You and the little ones… you'll always be safe here."
The twins stirred as if sensing the shift, soft whimpers rising. Isuke bent down, his hands steady as he lifted the stroller over the threshold, ushering Yu and the children inside the grand manor. The heavy doors shut behind them with a final, echoing click.
And just like that, Yu was cocooned in Isuke's world—fragile, guilty, but too exhausted to resist the arms that were holding him now.
---
Yu's fingers trembled as he typed out the message to Sakura.
Yu: I'm staying at a hotel with the kids for the night. Please don't worry.
Sakura's reply came quickly, warm and gentle.
Sakura: If you're sure… just know we're here when you're ready. Take the time you need, Yu.
Yu chewed his lip, tears threatening as he typed back a small thank you before shutting his phone off. The silence afterward was deafening, pressing against his chest until he felt almost sick. The lie curdled in his stomach—a hotel. No, he was in Isuke's manor. A place he never should have stepped foot in, a place that reeked of everything he was running from. And yet…
When he turned, his heart squeezed in confusion. Isuke was on the floor, the twins babbling in delight as they tugged at his sleeves, their giggles bouncing against the grand walls. For a moment—just a moment—it looked like a family scene. A father and his children. Yu clutched his middle, nausea and longing twisting together.
'That should be Taichi. Why isn't it Taichi?'
By the time the twins finally collapsed into soft baby snores, Yu's mask cracked. He sat stiffly on the couch, hands folded tightly, trying not to tremble. Isuke took the seat beside him, gaze sharp but softened at the edges.
"Yu…"
He murmured, tone almost too tender.
"Is everything alright?"
The words spilled before Yu could stop them—what happened at Taichi's house, the fight, the wrist still burning from Taichi's grip. When Yu pulled back his sleeve, the skin was red and angry. His voice shook.
"He… he didn't mean to. He just—he was angry. But…"
Isuke's expression hardened, sharp and dangerous, though his voice stayed low.
"That man has no right to put his hands on you."
He snapped his fingers and one of his household staff appeared immediately.
"Ice. Ointment. Now."
Yu's face warmed in shame and confusion, but when Isuke gently took his hand, everything blurred. His touch was steady, his thumb brushing over the swollen mark as if it were something fragile. The ointment was cool against his skin, soothing, but it was the way Isuke cradled his hand—careful, deliberate—that made Yu's chest flutter painfully.
"Yu…"
Isuke's voice dropped softer, his eyes fixed on him.
"You shouldn't have to endure pain, not from anyone. Not when there are people who will always treasure you."
Yu's cheeks burned as he tried to look away, but his wrist remained in Isuke's hands—warm, steady, dangerously tender.
His hand was still cradled between Isuke's palms, his skin tingling from the cool ointment—but it wasn't just the balm soothing him. It was the heat of Isuke's hands, steady, warm, purposeful. When his wrist was lifted toward Isuke's lips, Yu's entire body shivered.
The soft brush against his skin was featherlight, but it spread fire through his chest. He should have pulled away. He should have said stop. Instead, he sat frozen, heart hammering as the trail of kisses moved upward, deliberate and unhurried—his wrist, his forearm, the curve of his shoulder, his neck. Every touch left him torn open, trembling between disgust and need.
'This isn't right… This isn't Taichi…'
But his body betrayed him. Pregnancy hormones swirled through his veins, amplifying his craving for warmth, for tenderness, for the kind of attention Taichi hadn't given him in so long. His heart twisted with guilt as Isuke's lips hovered near his cheek, then just above his lips. The emptiness inside him screamed for something—anything—to fill it. And before he could think, before he could stop himself, Yu leaned forward.
Their lips met. His world shattered.
Isuke's heart nearly stopped when he felt Yu press into him. For years, every kiss had been stolen—snatched in moments of resistance, soaked in tears and trembling pleas. But this… this was different. This time Yu leaned forward. This time Yu chose.
It was everything he had been waiting for.
He savored it like the sweetest wine, his lips gentle but firm, lingering against Yu's soft mouth as if to brand the moment into eternity. His mind screamed triumph—finally. Years of patience, obsession, longing—it had all led to this. Yu was kissing him.
Holding Yu's delicate hand tighter, he deepened the kiss just slightly, not daring to scare him away, but unwilling to waste what he had been given. His chest swelled with a manic sort of joy, a certainty curling dark and bright in his gut.
'Yu is mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.'
Yu's lips tingled as he pulled back, wide-eyed and breathless. His chest rose and fell as though he had run a mile, though all he had done was kiss a man he knew he should not. The taste lingered, sweet and heavy, making his stomach twist with equal parts shame and longing.
He turned away, whispering a soft.
"I—"
But the words broke in his throat.
Isuke didn't let him finish. Strong hands cupped Yu's face and drew him back in, the second kiss deeper, fiercer, as though it might burn away Yu's doubts. Isuke's tongue slipped between his lips, hungry, coaxing, demanding. Yu made a muffled sound, caught between resistance and surrender, his hands instinctively pressing to Isuke's chest—yet not pushing him away.
When at last Yu tore back for air, his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts. His eyes flickered toward the corner of the room where the twins lay curled in sleep, their small bodies rising and falling in innocent rhythm. The sight stabbed at him, grounding him in guilt.
"Not here."
He whispered hoarsely, his voice fragile as paper.
"Not… in front of them."
Isuke's breath was ragged, his forehead still resting against Yu's, his eyes dark with want. He swallowed hard, struggling to steady himself, and then nodded.
"You're right."
His voice was thick, weighted with restraint.
He stood, straightening his shoulders, and extended his hand. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Yu stared at the hand as if it were a blade pressed to his chest. He could almost feel the two paths before him—one leading back to Taichi, forgiveness, stability, and everything he had fought to protect; the other into fire, into ruin, into Isuke's arms.
His gaze slid back to the twins, searching their small, peaceful faces for an answer they could not give. His heart screamed to run, to stop before it was too late. Yet his body betrayed him—blood thrumming, skin burning from Isuke's touch.
Slowly, with a tremor running through him, Yu placed his hand into Isuke's.
Isuke's answering smile was quiet but triumphant, his fingers tightening around Yu's as though he would never let go again. He turned, guiding Yu toward his bedroom with the certainty of someone who had already claimed him.
As they passed, he called softly to the staff lingering nearby, his tone sharp with command.
"Look after the twins. Treat them like they are my own children."
The words, simple yet unexpected, struck Yu's heart like a spark—warming him even as they unsettled him further. Shame and desire tangled, impossible to separate. He felt both sick with guilt and dizzy with want as Isuke led him forward, step by irrevocable step, down the path that might shatter everything he had built.
The door to Isuke's bedroom shut with a muted click that seemed louder than thunder in Yu's ears. The bedroom smelled faintly of cedar and smoke, a warmth that pressed around him like an embrace he shouldn't want. His heart hammered, his mind screamed for him to turn back, but his body refused to listen—especially now, with the subtle weight of the life growing inside him making every sensation sharper, every betrayal heavier.
Isuke's mouth was on him again before he could think, hungry and insistent, their kiss deep and unrelenting, tongues sliding wetly together in a slick, desperate tangle. Yu's hands clutched at Isuke's shoulders, his own lips answering with equal desperation, teeth grazing, breaths mingling hot and fast. The air between them turned heavy, each exhale ragged, every brush of lips and tongue sparking deeper fires that pooled low in Yu's belly, stirring the faint flutter of movement from the child within.
Clothes slipped away in the midst of it all—soft fabric tugged loose, sliding from shoulders and arms with urgent yanks. The cool air hit Yu's bare skin, pebbling his nipples into tight peaks, making him shiver though it wasn't from cold. Isuke's hands were everywhere—broad, calloused, warm. They traveled down Yu's sides with slow reverence, smoothing over his chest, thumbs circling the sensitive buds of his nipples until Yu arched with a gasp. Fingers lingered at his waist, tracing the new, gentle curves of his body, the subtle swell of his pregnant belly that had begun to round out over the past few months.
When Isuke's palm rested flat on that tender swell, Yu gasped sharply, the sound breaking against Isuke's lips like a sob. The gesture was tender, protective in a way that shook him more than the kisses had—fingers splaying wide, as if cradling both Yu and the unborn life he carried. Shame and yearning twisted inside him like twin blades, guilt slicing deeper because this child was Taichi's, not Isuke's. He shouldn't let this undo him, shouldn't allow this warmth—but the feeling sank deep, curling around his heart until it hurt to breathe, his body responding with a traitorous rush of heat between his thighs.
Isuke pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes dark with lust but softened by devotion, lips parted and swollen, chest rising and falling with restrained force.
"You're beautiful."
He murmured, voice rough with worship.
"More than beautiful—divine. Every curve, every breath… I live for you, Yu. I've always lived for you."
His hand stayed on the belly, pressing a reverent kiss just above the navel, lips lingering as if in prayer.
"Let me worship you. Let me show you how much I adore every inch of this body that's given life."
Yu wanted to deny it, to push him away and run, to find Taichi and mend the fragile thread between them. But his body betrayed him again, trembling with need, his cock already hard and aching against Isuke's thigh, his hands dragging Isuke back down into another kiss.
"Isuke…"
He breathed, half protest, half plea.
"I know."
Isuke said against his mouth, voice breaking.
"I know what this costs you. But you're mine in this moment—mine to cherish, mine to love until you forget everything else."
The bed creaked beneath them as their weight pressed together—Yu lay supported by multiple soft pillows as Isuke made sure to keep himself hovered, never putting too much pressure onto Yu's delicate body—naked skin sliding slick with sweat, the rhythm of their movements carrying them farther into the point of no return. Isuke's erection ground against Yu's, hot and heavy, pre-cum smearing between them in sticky trails.
"Feel how hard you make me? It's always been you. Only you."
Isuke moved with unusual care, as though every motion was calculated to shield the life growing within Yu—hands supporting his hips, avoiding pressure on the belly even as he positioned himself between Yu's spread thighs. He slicked his fingers with spit, reaching down to tease Yu's entrance, circling the tight ring of muscle before pushing one finger in slow, then two, scissoring gently to open him up.
"So perfect."
Isuke groaned, watching Yu's face.
"So tight around me, even now. You were made for this—for me."
Yu moaned into Isuke's mouth, hips bucking despite the care, the stretch burning sweet and full.
The contradiction—desire burning hot but tempered with gentleness—only deepened Yu's conflict. He clung to Isuke, nails digging into skin, drawing red lines down his back, his mind splitting between guilt and raw sensation as Isuke's cock nudged against him, thick and throbbing.
"Tell me if it's too much."
Isuke whispered, voice strained, but Yu only pulled him closer, guiding the head inside with a shaky hand.
"Please…"
Yu whispered, not sure what he was begging for.
"Please what, my love?"
Isuke asked, voice strained with restraint, eyes locked on Yu's.
"Please stop? Or please never stop?"
He leaned down, kissing the swell of Yu's belly again, murmuring against the skin.
"I'd kneel at your feet forever if you let me. I'd give you everything."
Then, guiding himself with a shaky hand, he pushed in slow—the breach deliberate, inch by inch, Isuke sinking into Yu's heat, filling him completely until their hips met flush.
"Yu… oh god, Yu, you feel like heaven. Like home."
Yu's walls clenched around the intrusion, pleasure spiking sharp and overwhelming, his pregnant body hypersensitive, every thrust sending sparks through his core without jostling the swell between them. Isuke's hand wrapped around Yu's leaking cock, stroking in time with his careful drives.
"Come for me, beautiful."
He urged, voice thick with emotion.
"Let me see you fall apart. Let me catch you—I'll always catch you."
Every kiss, every touch was a betrayal, yet he leaned into them anyway, rocking back to meet each reverent thrust. Every moan felt like a knife turned against Taichi, but it spilled from him without restraint—raw, broken sounds as Isuke praised him through it.
"That's it, my perfect Yu. So brave, so strong, taking me like this… I love you. I love you so much it hurts."
The storm inside him reached its breaking point as he clutched tightly to Isuke, caught between the ruin of what he was doing and the unbearable relief of surrender, his body coiling tighter, the child's presence a silent witness to his fall.
"Isuke—"
He gasped, the name a confession and a curse.
"I'm here."
Isuke whispered, forehead pressed to Yu's, thrusts faltering as he neared the edge.
"I'm yours. Always yours."
When release finally came, it crashed over Yu like a wave, his cock pulsing in Isuke's grip, spilling hot stripes across his own belly and Isuke's fist. Isuke followed seconds later, burying deep with a guttural groan that sounded like a prayer—
"Yu, my Yu"
—flooding Yu's insides with warmth that leaked out around them as he stilled.
"I'd die for this…"
He panted against Yu's neck.
"I'd kill for this. For you."
It left them both shaking, breaths tangled in the silence, bodies locked together in the slick aftermath. Yu lay back against the pillows, skin damp with sweat and seed, heart thundering, the faint ache in his core a reminder of how far he'd gone. The enormity of what he had done pressed down like a mountain, the scent of sex heavy in the air. He had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, this infidelity etched into his body alongside the life he carried.
Isuke's arm slipped around him, pulling him close against his chest, lips brushing the shell of Yu's ear.
"Stay with me."
He murmured, voice raw.
"Let me love you like this every day. You and the babies—you're my whole world."
Yu's body allowed itself to rest there, spent and heavy—but his eyes turned away, toward the door, toward the memory of Taichi. In the aftermath, the warmth of Isuke's embrace felt like chains, binding him to a choice he hadn't wanted to make but hadn't been strong enough to stop, the gentle curve of his belly rising and falling between them like an accusation.
His pulse beat a frantic, uneven rhythm, his skin sticky with sweat, and yet he could not move. He was trapped—not by Isuke's arm that curled heavy around his waist, but by his own weakness.
The ceiling blurred above him, shadows flickering with every change of breath. He wanted to turn, to bury his face into Taichi's chest like he always had when he couldn't sleep. But Taichi wasn't here. Taichi hadn't been here for a long time.
And now, Yu had done something that made it impossible for him ever to go back.
The twins stirred faintly in the adjoining room, a muffled whimper that rose and fell back into silence. Yu's heart clenched.
'If they knew… If he could see me now…'
Shame carved through him sharper than any knife. He wanted to slip from the bed, wash himself clean until no trace of this moment remained. But he stayed, trembling, Isuke's warmth anchoring him in place.
His thoughts circled, endless and poisonous.
'Taichi was the one who drifted first. He was the one who made me doubt. He was the one who left me alone long enough to break. This isn't my fault…'
The excuses rang hollow even as he whispered them silently to himself. Deep down, Yu knew the truth:
No matter Taichi's mistakes, no matter how much he had hurt Yu, nothing excused this.
He had kissed Isuke back. He had stepped into this room on his own two feet.
The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on his tongue, the ache of longing twisted into loathing for himself. He turned his face into the pillow, hoping the darkness would smother the tears that slipped out anyway.
Isuke shifted behind him, pulling him closer in his sleep, murmuring soft and possessive against his hair.
"My Yu…"
Yu froze, suffocating in the embrace, his body burning with confusion even as his soul splintered.
And in that moment Yu knew—no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, no matter how tender Isuke's touches or words might be—he had crossed a line he could never uncross. The house of love he had built with Taichi was already cracking, and tonight he had struck the final blow.
Yu stared into the dark, sleepless, sick with guilt, terrified of morning light.
The hours dragged like chains. Yu lay still, eyes wide open in the dark, his body trapped under Isuke's arm. Each time he shifted, the weight of it only pressed harder against him, a reminder of what he'd done and where he was.
Every creak of the manor, every faint rustle outside the window, made him fear the same thing.
'What if Taichi finds out?'
His chest constricted, breath shallow. He imagined Taichi's face—hurt, betrayed, furious—and the image burned deeper than any nightmare.
The guilt wasn't quiet. It clawed at him, screaming louder the more he tried to rationalize.
'Taichi left me alone! Taichi doubted me first! I was lonely! I needed warmth!'
The excuses echoed like brittle glass shattering in his mind. None of them made the ache lessen.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Taichi holding the twins, saw the way he used to kiss Yu after a long day, saw the soft glimmer in his eyes when he looked at Yu's belly, full of life. Those memories hurt more than the silence in the room now.
Yu turned his face into the pillow to smother another one of his sobs, careful not to wake Isuke, but the tears wouldn't stop. They slid hot down his cheeks, staining the pillow with a guilt no amount of washing could ever clean.
By the time the first threads of dawn spilled through the curtains, Yu's body was heavy with exhaustion, but his eyes hadn't closed once. Isuke stirred first, stretching, satisfied, his hand brushing idly against Yu's back as if everything were natural, as if nothing was broken.
Yu flinched at the touch, though he tried to hide it, sitting up quickly as though the morning demanded he grabbed a robe and made his way to the adjoining room to tend to the twins. His hands trembled as he adjusted the blankets around them, his throat dry.
Taro stirred, babbling softly, and Kenji followed with a yawn, their small voices cutting through the silence like bells. Yu forced a smile for them, cooing gently, though his voice cracked.
'They don't know. No one can't know. I have to keep smiling for them.'
When he turned back, Isuke was watching him from the bed, propped up on one elbow, his expression warm and almost tender.
"You're beautiful like this."
He said, voice thick with the remnants of sleep.
"A real family."
The words pierced Yu's heart, both comforting and damning. His smile faltered. His hands curled tighter around cribs railing as though clinging to an anchor before he drifted too far.
Inside, Yu was screaming—but outside, he only nodded faintly, as if agreeing were easier than fighting.
---
The morning passed in fragments. Yu went through the motions, tending to the twins as if nothing had happened, as if he weren't hollow inside. He fed them, wiped their faces, changed their clothes—all with hands that shook and a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Isuke lingered nearby, watching with that quiet, satisfied expression that made Yu's chest burn. He would occasionally step in—lifting one of the twins high into the air until their giggles filled the manor, crouching on the floor to play peek-a-boo, offering Yu a hand when he bent too far. To anyone else, it might have looked idyllic.
But for Yu, it was suffocating. Every moment of warmth felt stolen, every laugh of the twins twisted into a reminder of what he had allowed. He avoided Isuke's gaze as much as possible, terrified that if he met those eyes, the walls inside him would crumble further.
At lunch, when Isuke offered to feed him as well, Yu forced a laugh and declined, though his heart stuttered at the offer. When Isuke brushed his fingers against his belly in passing, murmuring about the new life growing inside, Yu's breath caught in his throat. He wanted to recoil—but part of him lingered in the touch, desperate for any echo of Taichi's absent care.
By the afternoon, Yu felt like a ghost moving through someone else's life. His smiles for the twins were genuine but tired, the shadows under his eyes deepening. When he finally laid the boys down for their nap, he sat in silence, staring at his hands, whispering apologies Taichi would never hear.
---
Across town, Taichi sat hunched over his phone in their empty, too-quiet home. A bouquet of roses he had once brought lay wilted in a vase, petals curling in on themselves like his own spirit.
He typed message after message, his thumbs trembling.
My Taichi💚: I'm sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me. I'll never accuse you again.
Each time he hit send, the silence that followed was deafening.
He tried calling. Once. Twice. Dozens of times. Every ring that went unanswered twisted the knife deeper. He left voicemails, his voice cracking, raw with desperation.
"Yu… it's me. Please, I— I know I don't deserve it, but I'm begging you. Please forgive me. I'll do better. I'll be better. I just want you and the boys to come home. I just want to hold you and the kids again. Please, just… don't leave me."
By the time his phone battery dipped low, his throat was raw and his eyes stung from unshed tears. He slammed the device down on the table, gripping his head in his hands.
But the world didn't wait for heartbreak. Work called, duty pressed, and he had no choice but to stand, to put on his suit, and leave the house that felt more like a tomb with every passing day.
With one last glance at his unanswered phone, Taichi squared his shoulders and stepped out the door.