krisho, PG13, domestic alien mpreg.

Junmyeon squirmed uncomfortably. Six months into his pregnancy and he was starting to have difficulty standing up from sitting on the floor, or from kneeling down to grab something from a lower cupboard. It was annoying, but not nearly as annoying as Kris’s constant hovering, constantly getting things for Junmyeon before he could even try to crouch down or reach up on tip toes to get them. He turned and glared at his husband.

“Kris Wu I swear to god that if you don’t let me make dinner myself you are going to be dinner!”

Kris backed up immediately, his eyes widening and the two tentacles that were reaching over Junmyeon for the casserole dish on the highest shelf receding back under Kris’s shirt.

“I’m sorry!” the tall alien yelped, and his skin flashed three shades of blue, which Junmyeon knew Kris turned when he was embarrassed or nervous.

“It’s just,” Kris said, placing one hand over Junmyeon’s swollen stomach, “Every time you reach for something I just think about how much easier it is for me, and how much I want to protect you and our whelps,” he finished earnestly, eyes wide and dark as they peered into Junmyeon’s.

Junmyeon felt his annoyance fade somewhat in the face of Kris’s ugly looking puppy dog face. He stood up on his tiptoes, which caused four of Kris’s tentacles to reach around Junmyeon’s body and steady him, and kissed his husband soundly. “I love you, but if you break one more dish in my kitchen I will actually make sure that my favorite tentacle is our next dinner,” he said with a snarl against Kris’s mouth.

Kris yelped and retreated quickly from the kitchen.