Another of the prompts I got. This one was "Drunken Mpreg" and the person asked for Spencer to be a Summers, and here's the clip I came up with.
He didn't care what he looked like right then. Whoever was knocking at his door was just going to have to deal with it. Grabbing the front edges of his robe, he tucked one part in and then the other over it, folding one arm to hold it in place while his other hand reached out and yanked open the door. When he saw who was on the other side, he stood there for one single instant before shutting the door and turning to walk away. It only took a second before he heard the door open behind him and a warm laugh filled his apartment. "Hell of a greeting there, pidge. You look like shit, by the way. You sick or something?"
"Why no, whatever gave you that idea, Alex?" Spencer snapped out irritably. He stopped, turning to cast a glare at his brother. "Wait, I take that back. Yes, I am sick. Dreadfully, horribly sick and it is very, very contagious. You should leave, now, before you risk further infection."
Alex rolled his eyes and just strolled on in. "Ha, ha. Aren't you just a riot?" He made his way to Spencer's recliner and plopped himself down in it. "I was visiting our esteemed eldest yesterday and I promised him I'd stop in here and visit a bit before heading back home. He said something about you not checking in lately." Grinning up at him, Alex shook a finger. "Naughty, naughty, little Spencer. You know Scott gets his panties in a twist if we don't check in periodically with him."
When it became apparent that Alex definitely wasn't going anywhere, Spencer gave up on the idea of making him leave. He was too tired to try. Thankfully, the nausea seemed to be gone. Then again, it kept tricking him, going away until he'd eat something and then coming back. In between, he'd feel healthy as can be, albeit a bit tired. Then he'd eat something, bend the wrong way, catch a funny smell, and it was like instant sickness. Beyond tired from days of this, Spencer sighed and made his way to the couch, climbing onto it and curling up on his side. "Tell him I've been bent over my toilet, spewing up evil incarnate for the past four days. I'm so terribly sorry I haven't been checking in with him." Grabbing a throw pillow, Spencer pulled it close, resting his head on it. He had yet another headache that he knew came from his lack of nutrition. Ugh. He was going to have to go to the store and get something bland to eat before he made himself sicker by not keeping down any food or water. At least the crackers he randomly munched on stayed down. Unfortunately, he'd just finished the last of those about ten minutes ago, along with a glass of water. At least he'd managed to get something in him.
The humor wiped off Alex's face to be replaced with a bit of sympathy and concern. "You've been puking for four days? You gone to a doctor yet?"
"No. I don't need to see a doctor—I am one, and I prescribe silence and rest."
"You always did get snarky when sick." Alex said with a sigh. But he rose from the chair and made his way over, crouching down beside the couch. He brought one hand up, pressing it against Spencer's forehead, making the young genius blink open his eyes to stare blandly up at him. "You don't have a fever, pidge. But you look pale. Maybe we should get you to a doc while I'm here."
Pushing himself up a little, Spencer cast a glare at his brother. "Alex, I do not…" Oh no. Breathing in, Spencer drew in the scent of Alex's cologne and his stomach rolled. There was absolutely no time to move, no time to stop it. The water and crackers he'd managed to put in came racing up. Alex didn't stand fast enough and Spencer ended up throwing up all over his shoes. Despite the mess already made, Alex shoved the small living room waste basket under Spencer's face. While the young genius hurled, Alex got his shoes off and took them to a sink. Then he came back with a wad of paper towels to clean up the mess on the floor.
As soon as he got close, Spencer waved him back. "Go!" he managed to gasp out. He got his stomach under control enough that he could look up, snatching the roll of paper towels from Alex. "Go, go. Oh, man, go grab me disinfectant and get far, far away. Your cologne smells horrible. What on earth are you wearing? Liquefied waste?"
"You puke on me and then top it off by insulting me? I'll have you know chicks like this smell! It smells just fine!"
"Ugh." Spencer used one paper towel to wipe off his mouth, tossing it into the waste basket. "They're lying to you, Alex. My stomach was fine until you got close enough for me to smell that."
Alex stomped into the kitchen, his scowl easy to hear in his voice. "Shit, pidge. You sound like my friend's wife when she was pregnant. She almost puked any time she smelled pizza on one…of…us…" Alex's voice trailed off. At the same time, Spencer had frozen, staring at the mess he'd just tossed into the garbage. One word kept ringing over and over in his mind. Pregnant. Pregnant. Holy shit. No, it wasn't possible. No! He hadn't….oh God, he had. In his head he did quick calculations, counting back to that fateful night, to the one night he tried not to think about and couldn't seem to avoid thinking about. Oh, no. No. He heard Alex say something to him but he couldn't focus on it. All he could focus on was that one word, over and over.
A hand cupped his elbow, lifting him up off the couch, helping him to his feet. "Come on, pidge. Go back to your room and get dressed." Alex said gently to him.
A little disoriented, Spencer looked back toward the floor. "The floor…" He'd gotten the mess up but he needed to use the disinfectant.
"I got it. Go get dressed, pidge." With a gentle hand, Alex propelled him back to the bedroom. "We're getting you in to the doc."
The doctor. Yeah, that was a good idea. Spencer made his way back toward his bedroom, one hand curling over his stomach. Pregnant. No, no, he was just overreacting. There was no way he was pregnant. Not from just one night.