Chapter Text
“You can’t just leave it like that. You already started,” Viktor insists, settling into his seat.
Five lets out a theatrical sigh, crosses his arms, and throws a mischievous look toward Lila. She’s already watching him with disapproval, eyebrows furrowed as if she’s reading every intention he has before he even speaks.
“Don’t you dare say it,” she warns him.
But Five tilts his head, his half-smile unshaken. He shrugs.
“All I can say is that Lila has a hidden talent. Very hidden.”
“And it should stay that way!” Lila growls, but she can’t stop the embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
The room is warm with laughter and anecdotes, but the mood shifts slightly when Lila frowns again, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.
Five doesn’t even flinch. He leans his elbows on his knees, watching her with one raised eyebrow and a half-smile dripping with audacity.
“You look cute when you’re sulking,” he says with a soft, slightly teasing voice. “But don’t overdo it, love.”
Silence falls for barely a second, but it’s enough for Lila to freeze where she sits, as if what she just heard doesn't fit with the image everyone has of Five. Love. Just like that. Out loud. In front of his siblings.
She looks at him, blinks… and her annoyance evaporates like smoke. Her smile spreads slowly, radiant, and without thinking, she jumps from her seat and runs to him, giving him a quick kiss, almost as if she’s afraid his moment of boldness might vanish too soon.
Viktor watches them with a mixture of amusement and resignation.
“Looks like their fights don’t last long,” he comments.
“What a shock,” Klaus adds, raising his eyebrows. “A relationship built on sarcasm, secrets, and sudden kisses. Who would’ve guessed?”
Allison, arms crossed, watches the scene without smiling.
“And for the record, I don’t approve of this relationship,” she murmurs, not taking her eyes off the couple.
“I don’t care,” Ben replies with a shrug. “I’m just killing time. Waiting for Sloane and Luther to get back.”
“Finish the game already,” Viktor cuts in, eyeing the board with interest. “Whoever wins gets to choose tomorrow’s training method.”
Lila snorts and returns to her seat. Without saying a word, she moves her rook with an odd kind of confidence.
Five fixes his eyes on the board.
Silence.
The piece lands with a soft knock against the wood.
“Checkmate?” Viktor asks, leaning forward.
Five blinks. He stares at the board as if he can’t quite understand what just happened. Then he lifts his gaze to Lila, surprised… but smiling.
“Checkmate,” Lila repeats, amused, and lets out a bright, carefree laugh.
The rest of the siblings stare at her, jaws dropped.
“Five lost?” Allison murmurs.
“Did you cheat?” Klaus asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at Lila as if waiting for her to confess.
“She probably moved a piece while everyone was distracted,” Viktor adds thoughtfully.
“When did you do it?” Allison asks, baffled.
Lila merely shrugs, savoring the mystery.
“A lady never reveals her tactics,” she says, winking at Five, who doesn’t seem offended at all. Instead, he returns her smile as if he just witnessed a masterpiece.
And amid the collective disbelief, the queen of the board settles into her throne.
The door bursts open, and Luther and Sloane walk in, radiating excitement. Their faces shine with a blend of joy, nerves, and a new kind of energy, as if they’ve received some sacred revelation.
“We’re back!” Luther announces, grinning wide, almost childlike.
Ben, sprawled on the couch with arms crossed, watches them with suspicion.
“Why did it take you so long? Did you lose track of time talking to the fetus?”
Sloane lets out a soft giggle and shakes her head.
“There was only a recently graduated kid in the medical wing. No experience in obstetrics… no idea how to use the new device,” she explains, shrugging.
Luther nods with a mix of resignation and fondness.
“We were tempted to wait until tomorrow, honestly…” he admits. “But we felt bad for the poor guy. He looked like it was his first day, and he already wanted to quit.”
“Well,” Klaus jumps in, crossing his legs dramatically, “the important thing is you’re here. So? Good news? Everything okay with the baby?”
Sloane nods with a gentle smile.
“Everything’s perfect. Just some logistical stress. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Luther looks at her with pure adoration.
“How far along is the baby now?” Allison asks, stepping closer with interest.
“Approximately six weeks,” Luther answers, full of pride and amazement.
Ben grimaces, wrinkling his nose.
“Great… so you conceived that baby while I was still living here. Just meters away.”
Viktor and Klaus burst into laughter.
“Very graphic, brother,” Viktor says, wiping a tear of laughter.
“Thanks for the mental image,” Klaus adds, sarcastically.
Meanwhile, Lila, Allison, and Five step forward as Sloane carefully shows them the printed ultrasound images.
“The baby’s heart is beating strong,” Sloane says with a serene smile. “Just like its father’s.”
“It’ll still be a while before we know if it’s a boy or a girl,” Luther adds, wrapping an arm around Sloane.
Everyone gazes silently at the blurry but moving black-and-white images. There’s something sacred in the moment.
Five breaks the silence with a firm voice.
“Now more than ever, we have to give it our all,” he says, staring at the image with solemnity. “For this new member of the family.”
“And we will,” Viktor replies, eyes burning with resolve. “I won’t let anyone hurt our family.”
One by one, they nod. Commitment needs no further words.
Luther hugs Sloane tightly, and she leans into him. But suddenly, she goes still, tilts her head, and brings a hand to her stomach, confused.
“I feel… weird,” she whispers.
“Morning sickness?” Klaus asks with a mischievous smile.
“Morning sickness happens in the morning, genius!” Ben snaps, rolling his eyes.
“Lila had nausea at all hours when she was expecting the twins,” Klaus says, adopting an improvised expert tone. “Literally, she’d throw up if someone said the word egg.”
Sloane lets out a small laugh.
“No, no nausea… It’s a craving. An urgent craving,” she says, eyes sparkling. “I want pizza. Lots of pizza.”
Klaus raises his hands as if receiving a divine sign.
“It’s official! The creature is one of us.”
“I’ll order ten boxes,” Ben says, pulling out his phone with resignation.
“With extra cheese!” Klaus shouts.
“Wait!” Five says, lifting a hand seriously. “We can’t order pizza to the mansion.”
Klaus stops mid-step, turning back with a confused expression.
“And why not, paranoia-on-legs? Put it on Dad’s tab and done.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Five replies, crossing his arms. “What if the Guardians are waiting for that? For us to let our guard down… They could put Marigold in a drink, or the sauce, or even the dough.”
Ben shrugs with an indifferent smile.
“I accept the risk.”
Sloane glares at him and smacks his arm lightly.
“Ben!”
“What? I’m hungry.”
“No problem,” Luther says with a confident smile, lifting a hand. “I can make some pizzas. Nothing like homemade dough.”
Just as Luther offers, a voice calls from the hallway: “Did someone say pizza?”
Everyone turns. Diego appears in the doorway, looking exhausted, flanked by Ray and the twins, jumping around as if the floor were lava. Grace follows behind, dragging a blanket.
“Look who’s back,” Lila says, crossing her arms. “We thought you’d be asleep, watching a movie, or doing something quiet.”
“It’s not their fault,” Ray says, hands up in resignation. “The kids have pure sugar running in their system. Diego made them ‘extra special’ milkshakes…”
“With sprinkles, cream, marshmallows, and more!” Claire adds, visibly thrilled.
“…and now they’re starving,” Ray finishes, throwing Diego a side-eye.
Diego scowls, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“I can’t get two minutes of peace without being blamed for something.”
“You said ‘special,’ not ‘pure sugar cocktails,’” Lila replies.
“Are we going to talk about mistakes or are we making pizza?” Luther asks, impatient, rubbing his hands.
“Pizza!” the twins shout in unison.
Before the cooking begins, everyone goes upstairs to freshen up. In the meantime, Diego remains distant, eyes unfocused; exhaustion weighs on him.
Preparing the pizzas happens in apparent calm... at least on the surface.
The siblings divide tasks with unusual coordination: Klaus volunteers to chop ingredients—though he spends more time eating the cheese—Allison dices vegetables with precision, and Viktor spreads sauce over the dough with surprising delicacy. Sloane helps Luther distribute the toppings, laughing with him amid flour and rich aromas. Ray and Ben entertain the kids, who run around like energetic little satellites.
But Diego, leaning against the counter near the coffee maker, doesn’t join in. His eyes, darkened by fatigue and irritation, repeatedly lock on Five. He watches him with barely contained tension, as if every gesture Five shares with Lila is another trigger waiting to explode.
He sees Five brushing flour from her face, sees the smile she gives him—one Diego once believed was his alone. What stings even more is how naturally the twins and Grace flock to Five. How they gravitate toward him. How they laugh with him. How they seem… to adore him.
Diego clenches his jaw.
He has to do something. And soon.
If he doesn’t, Five will take everything from him.
Even if he’s his brother.
When the pizzas come out of the oven, the atmosphere shifts. The smell is comforting, warm, almost homelike.
“This smells like heaven,” Viktor murmurs as he serves himself a slice.
Everyone gathers around the large dining table. The dim lights, the crackling fireplace, and the well-earned exhaustion of the day give the moment an odd peace. A tacit truce held together by laughter and bites.
Luther, still wearing his apron, finally sits beside Sloane. She leans into his shoulder, content.
“The sauce is amazing,” Allison says, lifting her slice with enthusiasm.
“And the dough…” Klaus adds, mouth full. “Perfect. What’d you put in it? Magic or protein powder?”
Ben chews slowly, looks up, and declares with utmost seriousness:
“If your gym business fails, you could open a pizzeria.”
Luther chuckles as everyone nods.
Five smiles. Lila glances at him from the corner of her eye. The kids keep asking for more slices. For a moment, everything is simple. Peaceful. Familiar.
But Diego doesn’t smile.
He watches.
He calculates.
Silent among a family that seems to be moving forward without him.
The room is dim, illuminated only by a bedside lamp, casting soft shadows across the walls. Lila settles among a sea of blankets, pillows, and sleepy little bodies. The twins cling to her on each side, while Grace, in her star-printed pajamas, curls near her feet, listening attentively as if the story came from a parallel universe. Claire, though older, still loves Lila’s bedtime tales.
“And then,” Lila says, her voice soft and modulated, “the little dragon realizes that his fire isn’t dangerous, but a gift.”
Halfway through the story, their breathing grows deeper, slower. Eyelids flutter and fall. One by one, the children surrender to sleep.
Ray and Allison, sitting quietly to the side, smile tenderly.
“You’re amazing with kids, Lila,” Allison murmurs.
Ray nods.
“Really. If you wanted, you could run a daycare… though knowing Five…” he says casually. “Have you two thought about having more children?”
Lila freezes for a second, cheeks burning. Allison throws a hand to her forehead, scandalized.
“Ray!” she snaps. “You can’t ask that, especially not with Diego right here!”
Diego, standing near the doorway, hears everything. He says nothing. But the blow hits him dead center. A clean, precise stab—not to the body… but to his pride. His heart.
Lila smiles nervously.
“We’ve talked a little, not much. It’s not an easy topic. Sometimes…”
But she doesn't finish. She changes the subject clumsily, as if she needs to breathe fresh air.
Allison stands, knowing it’s time for the children to sleep.
“Is it okay if I take Ray with me?” she asks Diego gently.
Diego nods.
“All good. I can handle four sleeping kids. Not the first time.”
Ray and Allison say silent goodbyes with soft words and hugs. They close the door behind them with a barely audible click.
Lila also prepares to leave, but before she can take a step out of the room, Diego grabs her arm—firmly, not harshly, but with barely restrained tension.
She turns toward him, startled.
“You’re leaving already?” Diego asks, his voice rough, low. “Are you going to run straight to Five?”
Their eyes meet. In Diego’s gaze, there is more than jealousy. There is pain. Loss.
Desperation.
But also pride.
And anger.
Lila doesn’t answer immediately. The air between them thickens, as if even the silence hurts.
Gently, she slips free of Diego’s hold without looking at him. Without a single word, she disappears in a flash of energy. The answer Diego feared arrives in the void left by her absence.
Five’s room remains dim, warm, and calm. As soon as he hears the faint crackle of air dissolving—the sound of a jump—Five turns. She’s there.
Without saying a word, he wraps his arms around her from behind. His lips touch her neck with a tenderness that contrasts with the intensity of his closeness. Their hands intertwine, fingers searching for skin with reverent slowness. Clothes slide. Familiar caresses. Bodies that understand each other.
Lila’s breath softens, her muscles loosen, and she becomes aware she’s holding onto Five’s naked body. Aware of how much he desires and needs her. She kisses him, slowly, tracing her fingers over his chest, kissing his throat; then she looks at him with love and invites him to touch her.
Five responds to her touch slowly, holding her with one arm while his free hand caresses her neck, gliding down, lingering on her breasts, and finally traveling between her thighs, stimulating her. She curls into him, gasping against his skin with every pressure, every wet caress.
He strokes her legs, slides his hands up her calves, her thighs, her hips, his mouth playing at her stomach. He lies down carefully beside her, instinct guiding his fingers between her legs; the warmth and wetness almost break his control. He watches her reactions—her trembling begins. He adores her expression of pleasure, the way she reaches for him, making him feel loved. As he sinks his fingers delicately into her, he swallows her moans with deep kisses, tasting her tongue, while Lila arches her back with every touch, and he answers by giving her more pleasure.
Their minds drift far away, to a white space—empty at first—slowly filling with pleasure, love, trust, a bond as strange and powerful as life itself. Lila buries her face in his chest, feeling she might explode if he keeps touching her like that. But then he stops—suddenly. He wraps her in his arms and kisses her hard, and while kissing her, he lowers her beneath his body. She opens her legs gently, and he positions himself in the space between her knees.
He looks at her, just a millimeter away from entering her warm body. Perfectly still. She wraps her legs around him. Kisses his forehead, his face, his nose, his jaw, and softly, firmly, his lips. Lila stays still too, lost in his green eyes as he is in her brown ones. They kiss long, expectant kisses. He wants to etch this moment into his memory—the feeling of being one step away from entering the place he desires most, the one that gives him the most peace: Lila’s body and soul. He wants to brand it into his mind, in case it never happens again.
He kisses her again and again, and she does too, stroking his hair, his cheeks, his shoulders. She smiles at him sweetly, holds him protectively, and loves him. Their eyes meet again, unwavering, and he rests his forehead on hers. Without looking away, Five’s body tenses, and he pushes fully into her, fitting perfectly, a low growl escaping him, a barely audible sigh escaping her.
“I adore you,” he whispers into her ear, ecstatic.
And Lila answers only by holding him tighter than ever.
For a long moment, Five thrusts into her, again and again, until she needs to reverse their positions, to touch his entire body, kiss every part of him. And every part means exactly that. The more she strokes, kisses, or wets him with her tongue, the more connected she feels to him. Their physical union is only the culmination of a bond forged years ago.
Touching and kissing Lila’s body is rewarded with her intoxicating moans—it’s deeply pleasurable—but Five refuses to stay passive for long. He gently pushes her onto the mattress, flanking her with his arms again, and without hesitation, lowers his mouth to her stomach, holds her thighs in his hands, and tastes her intimately.
When she feels his tongue on her, she lets out an intense moan—almost a sob. He continues caressing her with his mouth, intoxicated by her taste and her warmth. Then he enters her again, plunging into the woman he loves, over and over.
They’ve lost all sense of time. They’re equally desperate to prolong it as they are to finally reach climax.
Five is completely lost in desire, the pulse overwhelming him—he needs to bury himself deeper in her, though it seems impossible. Then he stops, carefully lifting her legs onto his shoulders. That position brings an even more delicious depth.
They lose themselves in the contact, in the sounds of pleasure, their eyes locked as their bodies collide. Lila feels the explosion approaching, her sounds rising, higher, sharper, sharpening his own desire.
He feels madness creeping in—if he holds back any longer, he’ll break. The orgasmic urge is uncontrollable. He buries his face in her neck, growling desperately.
“Don’t stop moving, love…” she begs, and Five obeys, thrusting harder into her.
She never stops looking into the green of his eyes as the sweet contractions shake her body, pleasure overwhelming her. Lila lets out a final, breathless sound.
Her convulsions pull him into his own climax—he spills into her with a deep, raw growl, gripping the sheets hard as he collapses on her slender body.
They breathe heavily, exchanging quick kisses, slowly relaxing. Five pushes himself up on his arms and slides beside her. Lila rolls to her side so he can hold her from behind. He wraps an arm around her waist, resting his head on his other arm.
Minutes later, hair tousled, breath still uneven, Lila rests her head on Five’s chest. Her fingers play with the edge of the sheet as calm settles over them.
“The branches of the labyrinth that bloomed…” he murmurs. “They reminded me a little of the trees at the place where you got married.”
Lila looks at him with full interest, stroking his bare arm.
“That place was pretty,” Five continues. “How do you think Klaus managed to choose it… or pay for it?”
“He probably scammed someone with a touching story,” Lila says, half joking, half serious.
Five stays quiet for a few more seconds before asking, almost in a whisper:
“Does it bother you when I talk about it? Your wedding…”
Lila shakes her head gently, without hesitation.
“No. Back then, you and I had nothing… Diego is already part of the past. You are my present. And if you let me, I want you to be my future too.”
Five lifts his gaze. In his eyes, there’s surprise, but also a tenderness that needs no translation. He kisses her, slowly, like sealing a silent promise.
And wrapped in each other’s warmth, they let themselves drift into sleep.
Together.
No more words.
Suddenly, Five wakes with a jolt.
The room is swallowed by heavy darkness, silent. He blinks, disoriented, heart pounding. The last thing he remembers is being in his apartment hours earlier, drinking like the world is ending. Whiskey, maybe rum. Evening falling over the windows… and then, nothing.
Now it's night.
And he’s not alone.
There’s a weight beside him. Not a something—a someone. Breathing softly. Five sits up slowly, muscles tense, cold sweat on his neck. He can’t see clearly, but the silhouette in the bed next to him is unmistakably feminine. Her body, barely covered by the sheets, is naked. So is he. He traces the scene with his hands as his only guide, a sharp sensation growing in his chest.
Something about her feels… familiar. Not just physically. Viscerally. Instinctively. Painfully.
Like what he felt for Dolores.
And that’s impossible.
His fingers tangle in long, dark hair. But something else freezes him. The shape of her back. The profile of her lips as she sleeps.
“Lila…?” he whispers, as if saying it aloud could break the spell.
The hair isn’t dyed. It’s longer than he remembers. But it’s her.
And he slept with her…
His first time was with Lila, in a drunken haze; he doesn’t remember.
Reality crashes into him with the force of a derailed train: Lila. Diego’s fiancée. His brother. The wedding is in a few days.
His mind fills with chaos, guilt, and denial. This can’t be real. Impossible. He would never do this. Not to Diego. Not to himself.
This has to be a dream.
Yes. That’s the only explanation. A ridiculous fantasy fueled by alcohol.
Lila stirs beside him. She turns, still half asleep, and calls him with a soft, vulnerable voice.
“Five…”
He doesn’t think. He doesn’t reason.
His body moves on its own.
He kisses her.
And he feels no guilt.
There is no noise in his mind. Only the warmth of her skin, the familiarity of her lips, the synchronized beating of two hearts that, in another universe, might have been something more.
After all, he thinks as he wraps his arms around her, this is just a dream.
And he lets himself fall once more into the darkness.
Beside her.
Without remorse.
He falls back asleep.