Chapter Text
Gallagher had been feeling nothing but regret walking up to the meeting room. He knew it was for the best, for the future of Penacony, and for his future, but… what he was about to do was nothing that left a good taste on his tongue.
He was about to invite Sunday to the edge of the Dreamscape. If negotiations went south, he’d have to rely on Dormancy to get him there, and… that image wasn’t one he liked.
What he feared more than anything was to see Sunday’s reaction, to see the heartbreak on his face, to see him harbour so many doubts about them and their relationship…
One glance down to his phone, his chat with Sunday still open.
Sunday – 08.10.2158 AE, 20:07 (system hour)
Gallagher, are you on your way?
Gallagher - 08.10.2158 AE, 20:10 (system hour)
I am. What’s the matter?
Sunday – 08.10.2158 AE, 20:11 (system hour)
Something important. Please come as soon as you can.
Gallagher - 08.10.2158 AE, 20:12 (system hour)
Almost there.
Something important…
Gallagher flung his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with a lowered gaze.
Sunday knew.
He had to know.
Why else would he be calling him here? He had to be suspecting him of being responsible for Robin’s ‘death’. That was why he probably called him here to demand answers and hold him accountable.
Would Sunday listen to him? They had been together for so long that it almost felt like an eternity… a life spent together in a dream.
…But the corruption within the Family was too deep. Sunday’s mind was twisted, at the mercy of the Dreammaster. If it came down to it… would he choose their love over his worship of the Harmony Order?
One knock and Gallagher walked inside. He felt his own body tensing up despite knowing he wasn’t in danger – it was more like he didn’t want to find out what was going to happen.
Sunday… Sunday–
Before he knew it, a body hurriedly collided with his, a head snuggly pressed against his chest. Without wanting to, the security guard stilled, looking down on himself.
“Birdie?”
Yeah, that was Sunday. He was up in his space, so unlike his usual self. They were technically behind closed doors, but who knew how much the Dreammaster could see. It had always been Sunday who was paranoid about being seen together, so why–
“Gallagher…” the Halovian spoke in his embrace, voice quiet. He was digging his fingers into Gallagher’s chest, seemingly looking for something to hold onto.
“What’s wrong, birdie?” Gallagher slowly asked, feeling his heartbeat calm down.
That wasn’t anger. That wasn’t even hatred.
Sunday was… happy to see him. But why? Didn’t he know? How could he not know?
The moment the Halovian looked up to him, he understood what was happening – and a pang of guilt welled up inside of him. Sunday’s eyes were hazy, glazed over with heat and deliriousness.
“Heat?” Gallagher muttered, slowly bringing a hand up to stroke the Halovian’s wings. His birdie partner pushed himself into his embrace, exhaling quietly – seemingly glad to have him here.
What terrible timing. No, this was the worst timing.
Sunday… why right now…
“Yeah…” the Halovian muttered in his embrace, cuddling up further to him. He was clearly already losing his wits to the pooling warmth in his midst. “Please… Gallagher…”
“This is bad timing,” the Hound murmured more to himself than anything, but he couldn’t ignore his partner in his arms. Heat would only come to pass if he soothed it – and only then would Sunday become lucid again. Else, it would take up to several days for it to clear on its own…
“So much has happened…” the Halovian hid his face in the crook of his neck – as best as he could. “Please… please, Gallagher, please…”
Slowly, the taller man let his eyes fall close – and the arms he wrapped around his partner’s waist were his sign of devotion. Never… would he let Sunday suffer on his own.
…Never, huh?
What a terrible liar you are, Gallagher.
“I’ll take care of you, birdie…”
In his arms, Sunday was so very warm. He gasped sweetly, pushing his own head to the side to allow him easier access to his neck. Heat was coursing through his body, flushing his pale skin a nice, rosy tone.
He had always looked gorgeous, but now more than ever. Now… he looked like something Gallagher wished to protect with all his might.
“Birdie…” the security guard gasped against his neck, tongue lapping over a hickey he had just left.
Sunday was already bare of any clothing, as was Gallagher. He knew that once it started, it would require multiple rounds for him to fully satisfy his lover’s every need; still, he deserved to be prepared and played with until the main act could start.
“Gorgeous…” he rasped against his skin, moving back just enough to place a kiss on those plump lips. His birdy highness tried to crash their mouths together shortly after, but his clumsy nature prompted him to miss his target, instead sinking against Gallagher’s neck. Still, it was good enough for him – he licked over that sun-kissed skin instead, breathing in deeply the scent of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke.
The scent of a man – the scent of Gallagher.
While Sunday was busy smushing his face into Gallagher’s shoulder, the Bloodhound let his hand wander over the curve of Sunday’s back, dipping low and in between his thighs. He wasn’t surprised to find Sunday’s vagina to be dripping wet already, eager and ready to receive him. Heat really was a miracle…
He let out a low moan when he felt Sunday’s clumsy fingers wrapping themselves around his dick, carefully stroking him to full hardness. One hand dipped lower to fondle his balls, the other methodical and yet also urgent in getting him ready. It prompted Gallagher to spot a smile despite everything–
Despite the fact that this was probably going to be the last time together like this.
“Keep going, birdie,” he nibbled on Sunday’s wings, enjoying how the feathers quivered underneath his teeth. “So eager to have me…”
His own hand carefully traced the outside of Sunday’s pussy, only teasing his entrance before dipping in between his pink and pristine folds, enjoying how slick they already were. One soft flick against Sunday’s clit and the Halovian whimpered in his embrace, hands stuttering in their motion of pleasing Gallagher too.
“I’m ready, birdie,” Gallagher softly whispered into his ear. For once, it felt right to sound this way, to be soft, to be kind… unlike all the times in which they usually had sex. “How do you want it?”
Trembling hands let go of his cock, the Halovian scooting back despite whimpering at the loss of stimulation in his lower end. He let himself fall backwards on the bed; legs slowly spread apart to beckon him in.
A heated haze was in his eyes – even more than usual.
Hiding… something…
“…R… Raw…”
Gallagher’s hand, which was already reaching for the nearby pack of condoms, stilled. The Hound blinked, looking the Halovian’s way, “Mh?”
Pink nipples were standing to attention, and the lean and trembling body of Sunday was on full display. The Halovian looked at him with a desperate expression, his wings quivering with each shaky breath.
“I… I want it… raw…”
An excited twitch came from Gallagher’s cock. He felt his mouth salivating, but he swallowed it down – trying to remain lucid long enough to answer.
“Birdie, if I cum inside of you now…”
“B-… Baby…”
Small hands were falling to his flat stomach – a heated delirium clouding his eyes, accompanying a loving smile.
“You… you will be g-… giving me… a baby…”
The condom was long forgotten at this point. Gallagher felt how his cock started to ache from how badly he wanted to get inside of that wet and shiny damp cunt. He wanted to breed him so badly it hurt.
“Exactly…” the brown-haired man muttered. He found himself kneeling in between those legs, yet didn’t do much asides from stroking along the outside of his upper thigh. “But I remember you wanted to wait. Why now?”
There it was again – that small spark in Sunday’s eyes. A moment of lucidity, a moment of… clarity.
…But it was gone so fast that he couldn’t quite grasp it. What was it? Sadness? Happiness? Defeat?
Sunday smiled at him despite it all.
“Be-… Because you… are the one… for me…”
Such overflowing love. So much raw admiration that it prompted Gallagher to growl and hide his face in the crook of Sunday’s neck, his much larger body encompassing his. He was pushing his cock against his flat stomach, a whine escaping him.
“You’re testing my self-control, birdie…” he mumbled, but there was a grin on his face. Finally, all those depressing thoughts from earlier were gone – all that mattered right now… was Sunday. “Shit, you’re… making me want to hump you like a dog…”
He deeply breathed in that alluring scent that any Halovian had about them. Especially when they were in heat, they were irresistible – an aphrodisiac in and of themselves. Sunday, for that matter, was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.
Underneath him, the Halovian shakily gasped, slowly hooking his legs behind Gallagher’s back. He reached his arms out to beckon the security guard closer, a heated flush colouring his face. Despite it, he looked gorgeous, grey strands of hair hugging his face akin to a painting, every strand perfectly in place and yet so perfectly out of place at the same time.
“Gallagher… will you… make a child with me…?”
Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
A low growl left the Bloodhound, sounding closer and closer to a mere beast. He quickly repositioned himself and guided his straining cock to that drenched pussy, nudging the entrance. Sunday barely held himself together from begging – that’s how far gone he was.
“Birdie, fuck, birdie–“
Needed it, needed it, needed it–
He needed to breed Sunday now.
Without so much as a warning, he pushed inside in one go, impaling him on his cock. A groan of satisfaction, sounding breathless, left him, as the sensation of a tight wet pussy greeted him – and underneath him, Sunday squeezed his eyes shut and wailed around his cock.
Sunday was so far gone that he didn’t even think of being quiet or what consequences anything could have. He was put enough together to not do anything reckless without thinking it through, which meant that… him wanting a baby was consciously his choice.
It was something that he had wanted for a very long time, and… and fuck was it hot.
Large hands grasped Sunday’s hips, holding him in place as the Bloodhound began rutting into him with desperation, keeping his head buried in Sunday’s neck. Each thrust prompted him to gasp in desperation, wanting to smell more of that alluring scent, wanting to be one with Sunday as much as possible.
Sunday. Sunday. Sunday.
He loved him. He loved him so much it hurt.
“G-Gallagh… gAAHH! Ngh… de-deeper… more… plea-… please…!” came the sweet song of Sunday, who was keeping his legs tightly crossed behind his back, making sure he couldn’t pull out completely. Each thrust rocked his body, his pussy singing in pleasure.
Gallagher was so hot on top of him, the sensation of being completely covered by another human being beyond anything he had ever wanted. Broad shoulders were encompassing him, muscled arms glistening with sweat, a deep voice grunting in satisfaction each time he drove his cock back into him.
He loved him. He loved him. He loved Gallagher so much.
He wanted a piece of him. He wanted him to stay with him.
He wanted to be one with him for all eternity.
“B-Birdie…” Gallagher on top of him gasped, his teeth grazing over his neck. Multiple hickeys were already blooming all over, a roadmap of his love and worship to him. “Love ya… I love ya…”
Sunday immediately tightened up around him, his eyes rolling back and falling close eventually. His oversensitive pussy trembled with the impact of those words.
It was embarrassing of him to still be this flustered over a love confession after all this time… but that was alright. Their love was forbidden, it wasn’t meant to be – they weren’t supposed to be copulating right now. As the Head of the Oak Family and beloved Halovian of Penacony, he was supposed to be a symbol of purity and gracefulness–
And yet instead, he was wailing around Gallagher’s cock like a dignified whore, begging a mutt of a man to finish inside of him, to dirty his pure insides with his seed, to get him pregnant.
The Dreammaster would be disappointed, Penacony would be disappointed, everyone would be disappointed–
But all he could think of was the sensation of cradling a newborn in his arms, resting his tired body against the broad chest of none other than Gallagher.
He wanted to be with him even if it meant going against Harmony and Order THEMSELVES.
“B-Baby… pre-… pregnant… please…” he begged with a hoarse voice, tears streaming down his face from how close he was getting to his orgasm. “C-Cum inside me… spi… spill your seed… m-make me yours…!”
The symbol of purity and harmony was never meant to be claimed by anyone – he was supposed to remain lonely for the rest of his life.
A harsh bite to his shoulder prompted him to scream in pain and pleasure, his arms wrapping themselves around the neck of his lover. He could feel Gallagher’s cock nudging his womb, rudely trying to invite itself into his deepest, most secretive parts – trying to assure he would be bred properly.
“Gonna get you pregnant, birdie,” a hasty, hoarse voice low in his ears. “A baby birdie of our own. Just you and me. Our baby. Gorgeous like you. Naughty like me. Free of tyranny and cages. You and me, birdie.”
Amidst the heat and haze, Sunday felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. His cheeks were wet already – yet when Gallagher pulled back enough to look at him, licking over his own lips, tasting the traces of blood from his bites… he saw a glimpse of the true Sunday emerging from within it.
A short moment of clarity – a short moment… of desperation.
“S-… Save me, Gallagher…”
Feelings… of regret and fear. Years of repressed anxiety and stress.
A bird with clipped wings – long resigned to a cage with no way out.
“I-… I want… to be free… with you…”
Gallagher’s jaw strained – and he pounded into him harsher than before, messily crushing their mouths together. He wanted Sunday to feel that he was there, he wanted him to know that he would do anything to save him.
He would free Sunday of his cage, he would set him free – he would assure that neither the Dreammaster nor Penacony could ever imprison him again.
Sunday deserved to be free.
“You’ll be free…” a choked gasp, as his hips were beginning to stutter, his orgasm just looming around the corner. “You… and our baby… together…”
Underneath him, Sunday screamed loudly as he was finally tipped over the edge. His back arched up from the bed, trapped under Gallagher’s much larger body, legs shaking as they desperately made sure to keep him as close as possible–
And Gallagher cursed loudly as he spilled himself inside of Sunday’s deepest parts, filling his womb up to the brim. He gasped afterwards, thrusting in a few more times as he finished, eventually stopping to catch his breath.
He collapsed on top of Sunday, mindful enough to rest some of his weight on his upper arms propped up besides his head. His beloved birdie was deliriously staring into nothingness, melting from the intensity of his orgasm.
Sunday looked beautiful like this. He deserved to be happy.
And soon he would be free…
…
Gallagher would make sure of it.
Quietly, he hid his head against Sunday’s neck again – hoping that his beloved Halovian would not catch onto the faintest hint of tears reflecting within his own tired eyes.
There was only one way on how he could possibly rescue Sunday from the clutches of the Order – and he would do anything to make it happen.
…Even if it meant giving up on his own existence.
“…Love you, birdie.”
Gallagher…
The chains around him were clinking as he sat there. Sunday allowed the other person to examine him without any fight – his gaze cast far away.
“Mister Sunday, despite your status as a traitor, Penacony has laws in place regarding special circumstances pertaining to prisoners…”
The shadow on the wall faintly reminded him of a dog statue.
“You are pregnant. Were you aware of this?”
Sometimes, Gallagher would hide in those statues to watch people pass by.
“…Yes.”
A follower of Enigmata could do a lot of things in dreams.
“…Due to your pregnancy, you cannot be sentenced to death. However, we need to know if the father is a Penaconian – if so, the child may be given over to him after birth.”
Did Gallagher want a boy or a girl?
“…He is.”
Would their baby look like both of them?
“I need to know the name, please.”
A Halovian, perhaps?
“…Gallagher, Bloodhound of the Family.”
Or a simple human like Gallagher?
“…We can’t find anyone like this in our system. Are you sure he’s currently in the Dreamscape?”
Would their baby grow up to be tall like him?
“…Gallagher, Bloodhound. He is always in the Dreamscape.”
Or small like himself?
“…I just asked around. No one has ever heard of him. Are you sure he’s a living, breathing inhabitant of Penacony?”
What life… would their baby lead?
“…He will come looking for me soon.”
What life would he lead?
“…He promised to come.”
What life awaited them?
“…He promised.”
What life… was there in a cage?
“…He promised.”
“He promised he would set me free.”
“Welcome to the Astral Express, Sunday.”
The Halovian quietly looked out through the window. Penacony was still nearby, still within his grasp. That sweet dream he had so longed to leave… was now being taken from him without anything to stop it.
His cage was open. He was free at last.
…But he had lost his ambition in the process.
“We will take care of you,” Himeko’s voice rung again. She sounded gentle, a faint smile on her face – of them all, she was the most forthcoming to him.
“You two… will be safe here.”
Quietly, Sunday let his gaze fall downwards to his baby bump, his right hand resting on it. The child Gallagher had gifted him as his final farewell was growing with every passing day. Even imprisonment had not harmed it at all – they were both still doing okay.
…How he wished to feel Gallagher’s large hand rest on it too, softly stroking his bump, mumbling words of love to their unborn child…
“Don’t worry, Sunday,” March 7th tried herself at a smile but failed. She was bad at hiding sadness – it still permeated her eyes and smile, prompting her lips to quiver as she was trying to go on regardless. “I’m sure he’ll… turn up somewhere.”
“The Astral Express can find those that are lost between the stars,” Welt nodded. Out of all of them, he seemed to harbour the most understanding and kindness for Sunday – as if he knew the joys and pains of fatherhood all too well himself. “Whatever you seek will be out there.”
“Gallagher is surely out there,” Himeko joined in, and she gifted him another loving smile. “And until then, we will be your family. Your baby will grow up safely – that, we promise.”
Somewhere in the background, Stelle and Dan Heng were watching him, their gazes cast downwards – mimicking pity. They had always been the ones to remain quiet, yet they were showing their support to him in other ways.
If it came down to it, they would defend Sunday and his unborn child to the death – for such was the way of the Nameless.
Sunday slowly turned away, walking to the other side of the cart – stopping before the window showing the empty vastness of space. The conductor was looking at him with pity before shaking their head, hurriedly waddling off to seemingly procure something from their stash (probably a gift to cheer him up).
This side no longer showed Penacony – this side merely showed his future.
Vast. Unknown. Free of chains.
…Not determined yet.
“I have found freedom, Hound,” Sunday muttered, his half-lidded eyes falling close. Beneath his fingers, he could feel the fluttering sensation of another kick – the proclamation of their love so very alive. This child was his only remaining memory… the only thing he had managed to take with him out of the Dreamscape.
An impossible feat… that only an Emanator of Enigmata could’ve ever managed to accomplish.
“…But what is freedom if spent all on its own?”
‘I’ll take care of you, birdie…’
And when Sunday looked up even more, tears were quietly spilling over his cheeks – tears he had supressed since his own childhood innocence had ended.
Now all he had ever wanted was out of his reach for good.
“…I miss you, Gallagher.”
He clutched his bump tightly – and his tears finally flowed freely, just like how he had wished for the birds in the sky to soar years ago.
“I really miss you…”