A little picture in a QaF group on Facebook inspired me to write this.
Many thanks to ebbj9891 and Keshena for the help.
I hope you'll enjoy this. I think we all needed a good mpreg story. I couldn't find one showing the character going through the process of being pregnant, so I thought...why the hell not.
I'm also posting this today because what better bday present can I give myself than share something with you guys?

Brian's POV

Surviving cancer is one of those things people say they could face anything else after.

I was one of them.

Once I got the clear from the doctor and all that Chernobyl bullshit was over, I was ready to go back to my life. But not before making some changes.

After the Liberty Ride, I somehow asked Justin to move in with me. He'd been exhilarated, like I'd suspected, but then he sobered up pretty quickly. He said he'd rather go to Los Angeles to work on Rage, the movie.

In that moment, all my mistakes came in the form on flashing signs in front of me. I should have done so many things differently.

I was going to lose him to fucking Hollywood. Despite his promises to be back, I knew his words were dust in the wind.

At the end of that week, I drove him to the airport, kissed him for a good ten minutes, before letting him go. Of course, in my head it was a real letting go. Deep down, I knew he'd never return.

Who in their right mind would come back to Pittsburgh after experiencing Hollywood?

That was about a month and a half ago.

Ever since Justin left, I'd succumbed to my good ol' buddy's call—Mr. Beam.

So I blamed all my nauseous feeling in the morning on Jim. I even occasionally barfed, which was odd. I never had that kind of hangover.

When Cynthia found me kneeling in front of the toilet at the office for the third day in a row, she took me herself to the doctor. She kept ranting and raving about how uncaring I was about my health, especially after the Big C.

The doctors drew blood and poked and prodded me for hours. I was at the end of my wits by the time, around late afternoon on a sunny March day, when a tall, lean, and extremely hot doctor stepped into my room.

Cynthia, who'd stayed with me, rolled her eyes.

I paid her no mind. Whatever he had to tell me, I'd die happy. But not before I had him. I tried remembering if I'd ever fucked a ginger.

"Mr. Kinney, good afternoon. My name is Owen Hunt and I've been asked to take your case. You might be more comfortable with a male doctor."

"Definitely, Dr. Hump." I grinned.

He flashed me a smile, shaking his head. "It's Hunt."

Yeah, right. Just give me the news so I can get my dick in you.

I glanced at Cynthia, wondering if she'd graciously wait for me; like all the other times we went places together. I really had to give her a raise.

Dr. Hump sat at the foot of my bed, staring at the chart in front of him. "Mr. Kinney, would you mind if we discussed this in private?"

I could tell Cynthia was dying of curiosity and anxiety to find out what was wrong with me. It would be such a disappointment for her to find out her boss was a drunk, and he wasn't dying of some exotic disease.

"Cynthia stays," I told him. "Come on, doc. Out with it." I smirked, finding my pun extremely funny.

"All right. Then I hope you won't get too uncomfortable answering me some questions."

"I doubt that word exists in his lexicon," Cynthia mumbled.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Sure, doc. What do you want to know?"

"This might sound crazy to you, but I need you to be honest. When is the last time you had intercourse?"

The fuck? "For fuck's sake! Don't tell me I got something." I groaned, feeling like being punched in the gut.

Dr. Hump chuckled. "You don't have any sexually transmissible disease, but yes…you got something."

I really didn't like his tone. "I got something? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And to answer your question, the last time I fucked someone was a couple nights ago in the backroom of Babylon."

His eyes widened. "You…you…fucked? As in, you topped?"

"Do I look like a fucking nelly bottom to you?" I huffed.

As hot as he was, he was getting on my nerves.

He frowned at the test results in his hands, then found my eyes. "Well, there must have been a time a couple months ago that you'd done it."

I was extra aware Cynthia was gaping at me, and my face was burning. I had a sudden urge to throw up, but swallowed the bile. It wasn't the time to be a silly faggot.

"Yes, as a matter of fact…there were a few times, some months ago, when I let my partner top me. You see, he's much younger than me and gets so horny, I couldn't deny him. Especially since I couldn't do much, considering I was just recovering after being treated for cancer."

Dr. Hump gasped, palling. "You had cancer?"

"Why the fuck does that matter?"

"Everything is important, Mr. Kinney. Your test results passed through most of the hands in this hospital, only for all of us to be sure it's real what we saw."

"Are you going to tell me, or keep me in suspense?"

"Mr. Kinney, you're pregnant."

I'm what?

Is he fucking with me?

Did he miss the memo that I'm a man?

As Dr. Hump kept staring at me carefully, seeing how I was processing his words, a new thought entered my mind: Must kill Sunshine.

"I'm going to kill Justin," I hissed.

"Brian, relax." Cynthia came to my side, rubbing my shoulder. "Are you sure, doctor? I mean, obviously, he is not…" She gestured to me.

"This is not a common occurrence," Dr. Hump explained. "But in some particular cases, a man's body can change. There have been so many changes of the human body in the last century that nothing should surprise us anymore."

"So is this change because of Chernobyl?" I muttered.

"I highly doubt it has anything to do with that. Unless your parents were in the area when they had you or around the time they got pregnant with you."

"I didn't mean the real city. I meant the lasers during cancer treatment."

Dr. Hump eyed me thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. We need a few more tests, but I think it has nothing to do with that. Some men are even born this way. Of course, they don't know it since they are mostly straight and nothing can get in there."

"Which shouldn't have happened to me, either."

Questions were zooming through my head.

How is this possible? Why me?

Does this make me even more of a freak? Why me?

How far along am I?

Did I do some kind of damage during my time spent with my buddy Jim Beam? Why me?

How the fuck am I going to tell Justin? How am I going to tell everyone?

Would I get fat? Why me?

"Mr. Kinney, do you want to lie down? Here." Dr. Hump and Cynthia helped me lie on the bed. The room was spinning.

Dr. Hump took advantage of my position to start poking my stomach; feeling around, he called it.

"Ow! Fucking stop. It hurts."

"When has the morning sickness started?" he asked, taking a seat back at my feet.

"I call it hangover. And about a month and a half ago when Justin went to Hollywood. Uh, I've been drinking."

"Your tests show it. I'd rather you stop drinking and taking drugs immediately."

I only nodded, still not able to process his news.

I was… I couldn't even think the word.

"Has this happened before?" I had to know I wasn't the only freak of nature on this planet.

"There were some cases around the world, even two of them in the States." He seemed reluctant to say this, which meant something had happened to these men.

"Did they die?"

Dr. Hump cringed at my bluntness. "The babies were saved during birth."

"But the men died," I insisted, leaning into Cynthia's touch. I was grateful she was there to support me.

"That was a few years ago. Technology has evolved. I don't want you to think of that. You must focus on staying healthy and as less stress in your life as possible, Mr. Kinney."

"Do you want this?" Cynthia asked, staring at me curiously.

Oddly enough, not wanting the intruder inside me wasn't a question. It was and it would be there until well…

"How does it come out?" I raised an eyebrow at the doctor.

"C-section."

"A scar?" I gasped. "Don't you have some new technological device to pull it out without leaving a scar?"

"That's what you're worried about? Your body?" Cynthia snapped. "What about your health? Where is it positioned?" She turned to the doc.

"We need to have an ultrasound for that. If you're ready for that, please follow me."

Ready or not, my body was on autopilot to do anything to get out of there as fast as possible.

I felt like everyone was staring at me as I walked to the exam room with Dr. Hump. In reality, no one was staring. It was only my wild imagination.

The people around probably saw this cute straight couple, thinking Cynthia was the one being checked-up.

As I sat on the table, the nauseous feeling returned.

"Don't worry, Mr. Kinney. Our future appointments will be in my private cabinet downtown."

I sighed in relief. I even managed a smile.

Dr. Hump pushed my shirt up then unceremoniously squirted cold lube on my stomach, making me squirm.

"Can you warm it up next time, or give me a little heads up?" I hissed.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He pressed the wand to my stomach, and I realized his poking from earlier was nothing compared to this.

I tried not to whimper in pain like a silly little faggot.

"Hmmm." He glanced at me.

"Hmm, what," I muttered.

"Well, it's too soon to tell you much about the baby, but just like I suspected, you were born with both reproductive organs."

"Ten points to the freak of nature," I mumbled.

"And it seems it's placed above your bladder, which will be inconvenient in later months." He handed me a roll of paper, telling me to take as much as I liked and clean up. "I'll schedule you in a month, but you're free to call me with questions or how you feel any time you want." He handed me his card.

I stared at it, feeling my stomach rolling.

"The toilet is through that door."

I rushed in that direction, and promptly emptied my stomach again. For the second time today.

Not long later, Cynthia and I left the hospital. She was quiet, which meant she was freaking out just as badly as me.

"I'll drive you home," she offered. "And stay, if you want."

"No, thank you. I want to be alone. I'll drop you off at work."

During the car ride, she tried making me talk, but I kept silent until she finally stopped bugging me.

"Not a word to anyone," I threatened her, as I parked in front of Kinnetik.

"I thought you were going home." She watched me, surprised, as I went inside with her.

"I need to get my stuff. I don't know when I'm coming in. I might need a few days. Call or e-mail me if there's trouble."

"Don't worry. Ted and I can take care of your baby." She patted my cheek, then her eyes widened. "By which, I mean Kinnetik."

I scowled at her. "Keep saying that and you'll become a full-time nanny."

"At least you find humor in this."

"The fuck am I going to do? Hang myself?" I rolled my eyes, strolling into my office and slamming the door behind me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I was going to have a baby.

I wasn't even a big fan of babies.

Sure, I loved Gus, but he was mostly with his mothers.

Before I could have a meltdown in the middle of my office, I gathered my briefcase and an armful of files on future campaigns, before I left.

From: Cynthia Morrison

To: Justin Taylor

Date: March 13th, 2004 17:03

Subject: Brian

Hello, Justin

I hope you're fine there in sunny LA.

I'm not writing to hear about it, though. As selfish as it may sound, you need to come back. It's Brian.

Please, don't call him, or if you do, don't tell him you talked to me. He needs you, but we both know he'll never admit it.

It's up to Brian to tell you what's going on, but I thought you should know he really needs you here more than ever.

If you decide to come, even for a visit, let me know. I'll have Flynn (our travel agent) find you tickets.

Cynthia Morrison

PA to CEO Brian Kinney

Kinnetik Inc.

Anxiously waiting for your opinion.
I hope I got the year right...but Cowlip's timeline is so messed-up I can barely keep up. hehehe