Work Text:
“Saturn,” Jupiter started, one hand splayed over his eyes as he wondered exactly how they’d gotten to this point, “You’re not pregnant.”
“You don’t know that!” he shrieked, throwing his hands in the air dramatically—it sent every single one of his bracelets clinking against each other, and he paused, staring up at his own hands as if registering he’d been the one to make the sound.
And then he did it again.
Jupiter dragged his hand down his face and blinked, half-wanting to give up. At his side, Erebus was laughing so hard he was struggling to breathe, wheezing with everyone. His only saving grace was that Uranus had no reaction, just kept staring with his eyes wide-open, the only indication that he was awake the occasional sip he kept taking of his drink. Which… Jupiter should probably try to take away from him.
Once he dealt with this.
“I… I think I do know that, Saturn. We’re planets.”
He shot an unamused glance at the rocky planets, who were no help whatsoever: Mercury was face-down in the couch, splayed over Venus’s lap (who was completely passed out, leaning up against Mars who was equally so passed out), while Earth was laughing hysterically at Saturn’s freak-out, and then sighed. “Saturn, just because you’re feeling nauseous doesn’t mean you’re pregnant. You’re a planet, not an Earthling, not to mention you don’t have the right…” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “equipment. You quite literally can’t be pregnant!”
Earth started laughing even harder, sliding straight off the couch he’d been sitting on, squirming on the ground with the force of his laughter. “B-be careful,” he said, through his laughter. “You can’t yell at him like that. It’s b-bad for the baby!”
“There’s no—” Jupiter interrupted himself, pressing his fingers into his temples.
He closed his eyes and sighed a second time as Saturn pouted, bottom lip trembling; and then he burst into hysterical tears and Jupiter stood up, gathering him into his arms. “Earth, please stop,” he said, making his voice as firm as possible. To no avail, because Earth just started laughing harder, face bright red, though that was just as likely to be because of the Earthling alcohol they’d all been consuming… some more than others.
Like Saturn.
“You’re nauseous because you’ve been drinking Earthling alcohol like it’s about to completely disappear, Saturn, not because you’re… pregnant,” he said, voice dropping into a disbelieving register. “Star’s sake, honey, you can’t.”
“Earth said—!”
“Earth is trying to rile you up, alright?” he interrupted, shaking his head. Saturn just kept pouting up at him, eyes glittering with the same tears still streaking down his cheeks. “He’s been trying to rile everyone up all night. Just stop listening to him.”
He’d already tried to convince Mercury he still had his wings.
While he was standing up on the stairwell balcony.
They were… lucky that he’d actually landed on the couch rather than the floor.
Stars.
Jupiter swiped one away and sighed, steering Saturn back to the couch and urging him to sit where he’d been; Erebus was still limp against the couch in the same spot, following both of them with his eyes and a grin that told Jupiter that this wasn’t ending any time soon.
“You’re not pregnant, Saturn,” he repeated, regardless. “Okay?”
He wasn’t even sure why Saturn was entertaining the idea—Earthling alcohol and the untoward effects of it had to be the culprit, but still. They were planets. Earthling bodies they may have while they were on Earth’s surface, but that didn’t matter.
“Okay?” he repeated.
Saturn sniffed, voice wobbly. “Okay. I suppose you’re r-right, Jupi.”
“He’s already got the hormones!” Earth piped up, wheezing with more laughter as Jupiter turned his head slowly, shooting him a sidelong glance. “He’s pregnant!”
Mercury picked his head up from the couch. “Who’s pregnant?”
Saturn burst into tears a second time. “I am pregnant? Jupi, how could you lie to me?!”
Jupiter was starting to regret his decision to abstain from the Earthling alcohol. Perhaps it would have been easier to deal with this if he’d been under the same state of mind.
“Y-you already have like,” Erebus abruptly said, rolling into Saturn’s side—his face was just as red as Earth’s, his eyes spilling over with clear mirth, glassy and not quite locking onto anything. “T-two hundred something moons. What’s another one?”
Saturn started crying even harder somehow, wailing, “I don’t want another moon! There’s too many!”
“You’re not pregnant,” Jupiter said for the millionth time, feeling like he was fighting a losing battle, “and you’re not getting another moon, Saturn, please.” He crouched down and dropped one hand to his knee, squeezing gently. “Perhaps we should go get some water.” He sent another glance to Erebus and Uranus, who was still nursing his drink. “All four of us.”
“You’re right!” Saturn announced—with more cheer in his voice than Jupiter thought he’d manage with how hard he was crying—leaning over Erebus to snatch Uranus’s drink. He gave a protesting sound, staring after Saturn with a betrayed expression, his hand limp in the air like he was still holding onto the glass. “I should drink more, Jupi!”
“…When,” Jupiter asked flatly, “did I say that?”
He was starting to wonder if any of his words were reaching Saturn, and as he reached out to take the drink from his hands Saturn defiantly tipped it into his mouth, completely draining the rest of it. Uranus gave another plaintive noise, brow knitting. “Stars above,” he said, stealing Erebus’s phrase, “Saturn, just—stay there, alright?” Pushing to his feet, he crossed the room, stepped over to Earth, and picked him up, setting him back onto the couch as he continued laughing, obviously far too amused of what he’d managed to convince Saturn. “Earth,” he said, going for as much authority as he could muster, “tell Saturn he’s not pregnant. Stop it.” That felt absurd to say.
Earth shook his head. “No way, man! This is the funniest thing I’ve seen in ages!”
He continued laughing, sliding off the couch a second time; Jupiter just sighed and let him. “Alright, then, I think we’re done for the night,” he said. “I think we all know where our rooms are.” He was completely ignored as Earth rolled over, focusing on Saturn.
“Hey, hey, wait!” he said through his laughing fit, throwing one arm out. “Wh-what are you gonna name it, Saturn?”
“I know!” Saturn said, throwing the empty cup into the air behind them; Jupiter watched as Uranus followed the cup’s progress, still completely frozen where he’d been. How much had he had to drink? Apparently far too much— “I’ll call it Jupiter the second!”
…What?
The absurdity of the statement kept him from saying anything long enough that Saturn pouted, harrumphing with a loud sigh. “Fine! I won’t. You’re so mean to me, Jupi. I’ll call it—hmm, I’ll call it Uranus the second!”
“Why not me the second?!” Erebus protested, leaning over and wrapping his arms around Saturn’s torso. “Uranus isn’t even paying attention! That’s mean!”
Jupiter was almost sure he should just let it play out at this point—it wasn’t like Saturn would think the same in the morning—and he sighed, rubbing his fingers at his temples even as he listened, keeping an eye on them.
He’d step in if it got too crazy.
“Because I like Uranus’s name, despite what he may think,” Saturn said, tilting his head up. He sounded remarkably composed for how much of a mess he’d been less than minutes ago. “And I want him to know that!” He leaned over, physically dragging Uranus closer—over Erebus, who just sat there without complaint—until he was splayed over both of their laps, staring up with wide eyes. “Right? Right, Uranus? Right?”
Uranus opened his mouth and whined, “You stole my drink.”
Saturn burst into tears for the third time. “I’m sorry,” he wailed. “I’m horrible! I promise I’ll call it Uranus the second to make up for it.”
Neptune popped up and leaned over the back of the couch.
…Where had he even come from? Where had he gone?
“What are we calling Uranus the second?” he yelped excitedly, giggling around his words. Erebus lifted one hand up and pushed him back over the couch, leaving them with the sound of a thud and then, “Is Uranus getting another moon?”
Oh, this wasn’t going to end well.
Earth—who’d dropped his head face-down into the rug beneath them—struggled up. “Saturn’s pregnant!” Was he starting to believe his own joking assertion, or was he that determined to keep the joke going?
“No!” he tried to intervene, throwing one hand up. “That’s not—”
Uranus sat up so quickly he nearly launched himself off the couch as he scrambled away from Saturn, eyes still wide and now horrified. “Saturn’s pregnant? What the bloody hell does that mean?!”
Jupiter dropped his head into one hand and sighed.
They should really stop accepting Earth’s invitations to indulge in Earthling pastimes.