Ten minutes later and Justin’s head still hung over the toilet, fighting to keep down whatever food remained in his system. Gripping the sides of the toilet his stomach clenched as bile rose in his throat and he puked, feeling weak and tired. Shivering at the surrounding coldness of the bathroom he heard the bare footsteps of Brian coming before the sounds of throwing-up drowned them out. Why now? Why did the heinousness of “morning” sickness have to hit the day he found out he was positive? Positive; Justin snorted, that made being pregnant seem like a death sentence. Or life disease — which it kind of was. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Brian, kneeling. “Justin, it’s okay. This is just what happens.” Brian sat on the floor beside him, brushing hair away from Justin’s face. He knew how much he loathed throwing up. “I know….I know but I don’t want to!” Justin cried about the inconveniency of being on his knees, vomiting his brains out. “I know you don’t,” Brian said in a low, soft tone. He could not help but feel guilty, sitting there next to Justin as he hung his head over the toilet. “All done?” He asked when Justin wiped the corner of his mouth off with some toilet paper and flushed it. “Yeah,” he sighed miserably, “sorry. I just never know when I’m going to blow chunks.” “That’s okay,” Brian filled a paper cup with mouthwash and handed it to him. “I remember when Lindsay was pregnant with Gus; she could only keep down crackers and soy milk for weeks.” Justin spit into the sink, rinsing, “How comforting.” Tossing the cup in the trash, he looked at Brian. “So. What now? What are we gonna do?” “Well,” Brian drew in a deep breath, “I was thinking, after the baby is born we should give it up for adoption.” He paused, waiting for the freak out, instead recieiving an icy glare from Justin. So, he went on, “Think about it Justin. I don’t want the baby, and I’m sure you don’t want to be a teen father.” Trying to keep it together Justin clamped his jaw shut and headed for the door. “Where the fuck are you going?” Brian shot up, following him. “Fuck OFF Brian!” Justin didn’t bother to try and keep his voice down, “You may not want the baby but I will NEVER give MY child away. But, if that’s really how you feel you are more than welcome to leave me the hell alone. Isn’t that what you want?” A tear beaded down his cheek, “To not have to take responsibility for your actions? Then here you go Brian, I’m fucking freeing you of any ‘parental’ duties you have to me, or your kid.” Brian inwardly groaned. How the fuck did this little twat manage to make him feel ashamed and guilty? Why the fuck did Justin make him have to feel at all? “Alright, I’m fucking sorry.” Justin shook his head, “Yeah, and I’m sorry I got knocked up by someone who doesn’t give a shit about me.” “Don’t say that,” it was killing Brian to surrender to any emotional confrontation, but he had to. “Don’t say what?” “That I don’t care about you, because I do. But don’t,” he raised a finger, “start to get any ideas in your twinky head. There will be no crib added in my bedroom, no painting the walls pink or blue, no bottles in the fridge, and no fucking pampers in the bathroom.” Arm wrapped around Justin’s shoulders, he led him to the bed, “Tomorrow, you and I are going to see a male pregnancy specialist and talk to your parents.” “Parents?” Justin moaned. “It has to happen sometime,” Brian pulled back the sheets for them to climb in, “obviously your mom already found out, so there’s no point in hiding it.” “Yeah, yeah.” Lying next to Brian, feeling the warmth of his body heat Justin said, “I only found out this morning, you know. ‘Cause Daph called me fat.” He sniffled, feeling physically unattractive. “Please,” Brian switched off the lights; curving his body around Justin’s, “You are by no means fat, for christssake’s you’re barely showing.” His hand brushed over the small bump on Justin’s stomach. From the change of pace in his breathing he knew the blonde had fallen asleep. Brian shut his eyes, aware he would need a full night’s sleep for tomorrow. But as life would have it, that of course did not happen. Six and a half hours later, at five thirty in the morning, Justin woke with a start. The craving for bacon was enough to kill him. He crawled out from the comfort of Brian’s arms, tripping on a shoe trying to get to the kitchen in the dark. A light came on. “Justin….was that you?” Brian groggily shielded his eyes with his arm, trying to adjust. “You don’t have to scream at me! God! Fuck! I just want my bacon!” He cried out in frustration. Cursing the emotions pregnancy brought on Brian slipped out of bed to where he had fallen. “Oh, Justin,” he helped him off the ground, feeling bad for the poor kid. “Don’t pity me!” Justin scowled at him, annoyed that he couldn’t seem to do anything right, even if it was just getting food. Knowing arguing would make things worse, and the last thing he needed was a hysterical teenager, Brian said, “No one’s screaming and the only one deserving of pity should be me,” opening his closet he threw Justin a large sweater. “Come on, get dressed, we’re going for breakfast.” There was a 24-Hour Diner down the street (which probably said a lot about the quality of the food) but considering the lack of bacon in the loft it was the best option. Plus, they could then drive to the doctor’s around seven. “You ready?” “Yup,” Justin finished tying his shoe. This was so exciting. Food! “Let’s go, I’m starving!” - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Three orders of bacon, pancakes, olives, eggs, pickles, pineapple ice-cream and frenchtoast later both boys drove half-way across town to the male pregnancy clinic. Justin was sitting nervously on the hospital style table wearing nothing but a gown while Brian rested nearby in a chair. The door opened and young man walked in, smiling. “Hello there, my name is Doctor Lewin.” “Brian Kinney,” Brian shook hands with him. This doctor was most definitely, fuckable. “You must be Justin Taylor?” Dr. Lewin glanced at the clipboard in his hands, “So you’re four months pregnant?” “Yes,” he smiled nervously. “I’m assuming you’re his father?” Dr. Lewin turned towards Brian who flushed red in the face. Justin stifled a giggle. “I’m the baby’s father, if that’s what you mean.” Dr. Lewin instantly became un-fuckable. “Ah,” Dr. Lewin nodded in agreement, not recognizing his insult, “naturally, of course. Okay Mr. Taylor,” he said, “if you could please lie back and spread your legs, we’ll have a look inside.” As if this wasn’t humiliating enough, the snicker from Brian didn’t help. The coldness of the gloves made Justin gasp, but it was the gasp that caused Brian’s snickering to a halt. The only fingers meant to be inside Justin, were his. And if that stupid mother fucker was hurting him…Brian growled. “What the fuck was that?” “Excuse me?” “His gloves are cold Brian, that’s all, jeez, chill out.” “Well,” Dr. Lewin pulled back, “everything looks good and healthy to me. Now let’s take a look at this baby.” He began setting up the ultrasound. Brian watched on intently as a picture showed up on the screen. Being an ad-exec, visuals were his specialty but for some reason spotting this baby was proving to be a difficult task. He could not for the life of him make out any sort of shape that made sense…the baby seemed to have two heads. Unless…. Two heads could only mean one thing. Two babies. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ---- - - - - - - - - - -- - - - PLEASE leave a review or comment, its what makes me update. seriously.