Summary: After a drunken, unprotected night of sex in his older brother's house, Luck Gandor finds himself expecting his first child with his long-time and long-suffering boyfriend, Dallas Genoard. These next nine months are not going to be fun for anyone involved. A series of connected one-shots documenting Luck and Dallas's transition into parenthood.

Chapter One: Baby Daddy

"Luck, I'm pregnant."

"…pregnant, as in, like, with emotion or?"

"Pregnant, as in, like, with a baby. Y'know, what they teach you in biology?"

"Men don't get pregnant in biology."

"Immortal ones do."

"Well I certainly didn't learn about immortals in biology, I'm not sure about you or what school you went to, but the school that taught your biology teacher needs to be bulldozed into the ground."

"For the record, I was homeschooled, and by my Mama no less. She went to Harvard."

"…Ah. So what were we talking about?"

"Don't play confused with me, Gandor, you know what we were talking about. I'm pregnant. You're the daddy."

"…" There really wasn't anything more Luck could think of to say to that, or to stall the conversation further, so he simply stared at his boyfriend, Dallas, who was currently standing in front of him with his hands on his hips, wearing one of Luck's sweaters and shorts so short that the sweater covered them. Luck had no idea why Dallas insisted on dressing like a teenaged girl so often, or why he decided to wear Luck's sweaters, but he figured, what the hell. That wasn't focal compared to what was happening now. "Dallas, sweetheart, are you sure you're not high?"

"Fuck no, I ain't high! I haven't been high since like, the sixties." Dallas rolled his eyes, then shifted his weight from one of his hips to the other, reaching up with one hand to run it through his messy reddish-brown hair. His words seemed true enough, and Luck sighed, rubbing at his temples wearily.

Jesus fucking Christ. Where in the world had they went wrong? Where had he went wrong? What the fuck was even happening? "And you're absolutely positive that you're pregnant?"

"As positive as the three pregnancy tests I took."

"Why in the world did you take three?"

"So I could use them as conclusive evidence against you when the time came."

Letting out a long, thin groan, Luck sat heavily on the couch, Dallas plopping down beside him, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head on Luck's shoulder. Now that he thought about it, Luck did remember Maiza spewing something about how immortals, regardless of sex, could get pregnant, and the importance of "wrapping it before tapping it", but Luck had been sure that he'd worn a condom every time he and Dallas decided to get heavy in the bedroom. "How the hell did you get pregnant, anyway? I thought we both used condoms whenever we had sex. And I thought you were on the pill?"

"The keyword here being were, I ran out like three months ago and was too lazy to go get a prescription filled so I could get more."

"Son of a bitch."

"And remember that one night we were at your brother's house—uh, Claire I think? And we both got piss drunk and fucked in the bathtub?"

"Yeah, I remember that. You've gotten better at giving blowjobs, by the way. Thought I'd mention that."

"Gee, thanks. Anyway, neither of us was exactly thinking about rubbers that night, and now here I am, with a bun in my oven courtesy of you."

They both sat in silence for a few moments, with Luck's fingers tapping irrepressibly on his thigh, and Dallas gazing off into the distance. Well, goodbye happy bachelorhood life of no responsibilities, Luck thought solemnly to himself. Were they even ready for a baby? Was he ready for a baby? He knew the answer to that was going to be no, but it didn't seem like Dallas was going to bail out of this pregnancy.

"…we've got a lot to explain to our friends and family."