I held her hand, feeling the delicate bones and the slight roughness of her skin against my palm. Her tears fell silently, splashing onto the worn wooden table between our half-finished drinks. Each one felt like an absolution, a tiny weight lifting from my own conscience. I had needed to say it. I had needed her to hear it. The ghost of the little shit who'd inhabited this body before me had been screaming in this kitchen, and I had to silence his echo for my sake and this family.
She finally looked up, her dark eyes swimming but clear, and she gave my hand a weak, watery squeeze. It was all the answer I needed. The forgiveness was there, unconditional and overwhelming. It made me feel both lighter and more burdened than before—lighter for the cleared air, burdened by the sheer depth of devotion I was now responsible for, but it was fine for me. this is already good enough.
We sat in that quiet understanding for a long moment, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional sniffle from her. The initial storm of the apology had passed, leaving a calm, fragile peace in its wake. I knew I had to steer this. I had to use this hard-won trust to solve the most pressing problem. I took a slow breath, choosing my words with immense care.
"Grandma," I began, my voice soft but steady. "There's... there's the other thing. The GMRD. We need to talk about it."
I felt her hand tense minutely in mine. A shadow of that old fear and guilt passed over her features. She looked down, unable to meet my eyes.
"Sael, malysh," she whispered, the old term of endearment slipping out, laced with pain.
"If you... if you cannot do it. If the idea is too... too much." She took a shaky breath, forcing the words out as if they were physically painful. "I understand… I will tell them I refuse… I will take the blame... I will not let them punish you for—"
"No," I said, my voice firm but gentle, cutting off her desperate, self-sacrificing offer. I squeezed her hand, urging her to look at me. She did, her eyes wide with confusion.
"That's not what I'm saying. Last night, after I got sick... I had a lot of time to think and reflect.… To really think about my life… About what I'd become." I let out a sigh, shaking my head at the memory of the old Sael's pathetic existence.
"I realized, I've been living wrong way… For a long time, I've been a dick… And I want to change. I am changing... though slowly… but I am really doing it,". I paused, letting that sink in. I saw the hope warring with caution in her gaze. I leaned forward slightly, my expression as earnest as I could make it.
"I've been rethinking a lot of things. Including... including the mandated duty as wel..."
Her breath hitched. "Sael?"
"I don't feel the way I did before," I said, each word deliberate.
"The idea... it isn't... gross or a burden to me anymore." I saw the shock register on her face, a bewildered astonishment that I could have done such a complete one-eighty overnight. I offered a small, wry smile.
"I decided... I want to do it... I want to inseminate you…"
For a full three seconds, she just stared at me, utterly speechless. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed. She looked like I'd just told her the sky was now green.
"You... you do?" she finally breathed, the words barely audible.
"I do," I said, nodding for emphasis. "Earnestly..."
Then I leaned back, adopting a more pragmatic tone. This was the crucial part. "But… And this is a big but."
I held up my free hand, the one not holding hers. "I also had to think rationally... Look at me, Grandma." I gestured down at myself with a dismissive wave.
"I'm a mess… I'm sickly… I'm weak." I flexed my right arm, making a show of the pathetic lack of muscle, the slender, almost feminine bone structure.
"My body isn't... it's not in any condition for something like that… Not for creating strong, healthy life... And that's what this is about, right? If we are going to have a baby, I want the baby to born healthy…". She nodded slowly, her eyes flicking over my frame, seeing the truth in my assessment. The concern of a caregiver overriding everything else.
"You have been so frail," she murmured, her voice thick with worry.
"Right. So, here's my plan." I laid it out, clear and logical.
"First, I will go and donated my sperm... I'll make my donation... That fulfills my immediate duty. It gets Mrs. Reis and the GMRD off our backs. It keeps our family's subsidies safe, and," I added with a pointed look, "I get paid for it… Every donation means money coming into this house, not going out..."
I watched her process this, seeing the logic dawn on her face. It was a brilliant move, and she knew it. It was mature. Responsible.
"By doing that," I continued, "I buy us time. The mandate for the... the natural insemination... it gives us a three-month window after the first donation. That's ninety days. And I want to use that time." My voice softened again, taking on a more intimate tone.
"I meant what I said. I want to do this. But I don't want it to be in some cold, clinical room with a doctor and a needle. That's... that's not how it should be.". I looked her directly in the eyes, letting my gaze hold hers, making sure she understood the depth of my meaning.
"I want to do it with you… As a man. Naturally... The way a man and a woman are supposed to." I let the words hang in the air, charged and deliberate.
"Oh,". Her cheeks flushed a deep, beautiful crimson. She looked away, suddenly shy, but a smile—a real, genuine, flustered smile—touched her lips. She was stunned, happy, embarrassed, and hopeful all at once.
"If... if that is what you want," she finally whispered, her voice barely a breath, her eyes darting back to mine for a second before looking down at our joined hands. "I... I would always welcome you, Sael…"
"Good,". A thrill, hot and possessive, shot through me.
"Then it's settled… I get healthy first... I put some meat on these bones. I get strong... For you. For this…" I gestured between us.
"I want to be able to... do it properly…". She nodded vigorously now, the caregiver in her fully engaged, pushing past the sexual tension.
"Of course! Of course, you must! You need good food. Lots of protein. Meat, eggs, milk... nourishing things." She was already planning, her mind racing.
"I will cook for you... Every day. I will make you strong like a bear,".
I chuckled softly. "I know you will, grandma,... Though I have to be honest," I said, teasing her lightly,
"Aunt Vera might be the best chef in the house.". To my surprise, she laughed, a real, warm, musical sound that filled the kitchen. It was a sound I doubted had been heard in here for years.
"Ah, you are right! My Vera, she is a magician with spices. I will tell her. She will be so happy to help. We all will."
The conversation had reached its natural conclusion. We had a plan. We had an understanding. The air was clear. The past was acknowledged, if not forgotten, and the future had a path, however unconventional. I gave her hand one final squeeze and then released it.
"I should let you get back to your day," I said, starting to push my chair back. But I stopped. An impulse took hold of me. Words were one thing. A plan was one thing. I needed to physically seal this new reality. I needed to overwrite the last memory of physical contact between us—him screaming at her—with something new.
I stood up. She looked up at me, her expression curious. I stepped around the small table towards her.
"Come here, Grandma," I said, my voice soft.
I opened my arms.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, a lifetime of rejection causing a momentary freeze. Then, she rose from her chair, her movements slightly hesitant, and stepped into my embrace.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. She was shorter than me, but not by much. She stiffened for a heartbeat, a tiny, instinctive flinch, and then... she melted. Her body seemed to sigh into mine, all the tension and sorrow of years dissolving as she buried her face against my shoulder. Her arms came up around my back, holding me tightly, as if she were afraid, I would vanish.
I could feel the generous, soft curves of her body pressed against mine, so different from the skinny frame of this body. She was all warm, pillowy softness. I rested my chin on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair—floral shampoo and the faint, warm scent of her skin. It was a hug of reconciliation, Of family.
But the feel of her, the reality of her body against mine, stirred something else in me. Something deeper and more primal than familial comfort. The knowledge of what we had just agreed to, of what she had just consented to, made the embrace feel different. My hands, which had been resting on her back, began to move almost of their own accord.
One hand slid down, past the curve of her waist, and came to rest on the swell of her hip. Then it drifted lower, palming the full, round curve of her ass through the thin, worn fabric of her skirt.
She shuddered in my arms. A sharp, quiet intake of breath hissed past my ear. I felt her heartbeat, which had been slowing to a calm rhythm, suddenly kick into a faster, frantic tempo against my chest. Her hold on me tightened. But she didn't pull away. She didn't stiffen. She pressed herself closer, a silent, unmistakable consent.
I squeezed gently, feeling the incredible softness and give of her flesh. It was a deliberate, intimate gesture, light-years away from a grandson's hug. I held her like that for a dozen long seconds, my face buried in her hair, my hand claiming a part of her that had been promised to me. The kitchen was silent except for our breathing.
After a few minutes, I slowly loosened my hold. My hand slid regretfully from its possessive grip on her rear, back up to the small of her back. I leaned back slightly, just enough to look down at her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were wide and dark, her lips slightly parted. She looked dazed, overwhelmed, but not afraid. There was a warmth in her gaze, a yielding acceptance.
My own arousal was a steady, demanding thrum. Emboldened, I brought one hand up, cupping the back of her head. My fingers tangled in her soft blonde hair. I saw her eyes flutter closed in anticipation. I didn't hesitate. I leaned down and covered her mouth with mine.
"Mmhmm…mmhmm~". It wasn't a chaste peck. It was deep. Claiming. I kissed her like a man kisses a woman he desires, because I did. I poured every bit of my intent, my promise, and my hunger into it.
"Ha~…mmmhhh… Slllrrppp…Mmmm~". She made a small, muffled sound of surprise against my lips, then her mouth opened to mine. The taste of her was of tea and something uniquely, essentially her.
"Mmm… Mmph… Kiss…Hah~ Slllrrppp… Mmmhmmm~".
The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet kitchen—the wet, soft sound of our mouths moving together, the faint slide of tongues, the quiet, ragged pull of breath. I kissed her for long, dizzying seconds, claiming what was now mine, sealing our agreement in the most fundamental way possible.
"Hah…hah~". When I finally pulled back, we were both breathing heavily. A string of saliva briefly connected our lips before breaking.
Her face was now deeply flushed, her eyes glazed with a confusion of emotions—shock, passion, disbelief, and a deep, undeniable happiness.
I looked down at her, my voice a low, rough whisper. "I love you, Nadia."
It wasn't a lie. In that moment, with the taste of her on my lips and the feel of her body imprinted on my hands, I did. I loved the warmth she offered, the devotion, the beauty, the promise of what she was.
She blinked, her lips still swollen from the kiss. For a moment, she just stared, as if trying to reconcile this man with the boy she knew. Then, a beautiful, radiant smile spread across her face, erasing the last traces of doubt.
"I love you too, Sael," she breathed, her voice full of wonder and a love that had endured unimaginable hardship. "I always have."
I smiled back, a confident, possessive smile. I gave her arm a gentle squeeze, then turned without another word and walked out of the kitchen. I could feel her eyes on my back the entire way, watching me go.
I didn't look back. I walked straight to my room, closed the door behind me, and leaned against it, finally alone. My heart was hammering against my ribs. The scent of her was still on my clothes, on my skin. I could still feel the incredible softness of her ass in my hand, the warmth of her mouth. I've done it, the first and most fragile relationship was on the mend. And it was going to be a hell of a lot more enjoyable than I ever could have imagined it would be.