Let me clear this up right now, MPreg for those who don't know means Male Pregnancy. It's very controversial but I can't be self proclaimed queen if I haven't done every subject now can I?
Disclaimer: Ha! They wouldn't dare let me own this...
Upside down
Mornings were always hell, especially early ones. The rising sun was like your enemy and underneath the blankets your sanctuary.
The overly cheery birds chirped and the cars, owned by the day workers made so much noise when you were a light sleeper.
Which in a certain lavender-haired former bladers case, caused his eyes to flutter open. He cursed glancing at the alarm clock. 10:05 was still -way- too early for his taste.
After the previous nights party he felt like shit; his head ached and throbbed which he didn't know was possible at the same time and his stomach was doing flips. Not the nervous flips, the rollercoaster -I'm-going-to-be-sick- kind of flips.
Pushing down the feelings that left him feeling like absolute shit, Bryan untangled himself from the pair of arms wrapped loosely around his frame. He sat up in the large bed, tossing the half tangled blankets off of himself and stood up.
Just as he went to stretch his arms, a wave of nausea swept over him, leaving a sick feeling to crash down on him hard. The room felt like it was moving, when it shouldn't be and his head was spinning.
The next thing he realized was his face greeting the porcelain from the toilet bowl good morning followed by a fuck off as he flushed.
He sat down on the cold tiles and leaned his back up against the bathtub beside the toilet. He shivered, being only dressed in boxers and wiped his mouth clean. The horrible after taste lingered in his mouth, only making him feel sicker then before.
His body had a twisted sense of humor as another round crept up on him and he found himself, once again, emptying his stomach into the toilet.
The smell was atrocious but it was so hard to push himself up from the plastic seat his head was resting upon. Spitting a last time, riding his mouth of the vile omnipresent despicable taste that made him feel like his stomach would lurched forward again and any food still inside of him wouldn't remain for much longer.
On the count of three, a very slow count to be precise, he pushed himself up, closing the lid and flushing away the bile and food mixture.
Taking a few deep breaths, he staggered over to the sink and turned the taps, releasing a stream of cold water from the faucet. Filling his glass, he took a big gulp and spit it out, there for, riding himself of the god awful taste.
He didn't dare look at himself in the mirror, he could only imagine how pasty his skin looked and the dark bag under his eyes so, praying the sickly feeling would go away with more sleep; he dragged himself back to bed.
''Why'd you get up?''
Looking over his lover still snuggled comfortably in the bed; he snorted indignantly and settled himself back under the covers. Too tired to repeat himself, the other boy inched over to Bryan and wrapped his arms around him again, indulging in the body heat.
Bryan sighed a bit, followed by a strained and tired yawn. Turning the face the other, he nestled his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the relaxing scent of his cologne still lingering from the past night. The intoxicating odor made him feel more comfortable and relaxed, letting himself fall asleep faster.
A few hours had passed, sleep was blissful and washed away the icky feeling and brought him stomach back down to where it belonged and not in his throat. When his body finally regained consciousness, his eyes slightly peered open, reading the large red bolt digits indicating 12:30pm which that time around was a good enough hour to get up at.
''Good afternoon.''
All he saw was a blur of red as he sat up, leaning against the backboard. The sudden bouncing in the bed and the new weight settling beside him caused the mattress to go up and down slightly, bringing forth an unwelcome feeling of dizziness. But the warm sensation of a soft pair of lips against his cheek took away the moving feeling and he smirked slightly, leaning his head against the one doing the same on his shoulder.
''Why were you up earlier?'' The red head asked curiously.
''Got sick.''
''Poor Bry.'' Patting his stomach gently, earning himself a growl he grinned innocently, or rather tried anyway.
''No more drinking for a while Tala.''
''Not for you anyway.''
A headache was forming and a pain reliever was in desperate need. Though his head felt like he received a wooden bat to his skull, Bryan knew that he was venturing into the hang over stage.
It seemed odd to him though, recalling the night's events was easy. Every detail, images, person talked to was as clear as crystal. He could even remember every conversation which led him to think he hadn't consumed that much. Not that much would be defined by at least half a dozen shots, a usual amount before his speech became impaired and Tala looked like a ravish able god.
''You know...we didn't drink that much.'' Like a psychic, or just plain lucky, Tala brought up the conversation, dwelling in his partners mind. ''I don't even have a hang over.''
''I don't know what's wrong with me.''
''Maybe it's the flu!'' Tala, suddenly being dramatic sat up on his knees; brushing back the bed head tangled lilac locks from his forehead, taking his temperature.
''You're not warm...but I could make you warm.''
A sly grin played upon his lips, replacing his hand by a butterfly kiss.
''Till we figure out what's wrong with you. You are not to leave this bed. Doctors orders. Besides...I'll come join you.''
Bryan still wasn't sure what was wrong with him. His head felt like it was about to fall off but he didn't mind being waited at hand and foot for the day, it might be a fun idea.
-=TBC=-
You can all tell where this is going. The chapters will all be pretty much short but that means faster updates. Which I promise so no worries.
Disclaimer: Ha! They wouldn't dare let me own this...
Upside down
Mornings were always hell, especially early ones. The rising sun was like your enemy and underneath the blankets your sanctuary.
The overly cheery birds chirped and the cars, owned by the day workers made so much noise when you were a light sleeper.
Which in a certain lavender-haired former bladers case, caused his eyes to flutter open. He cursed glancing at the alarm clock. 10:05 was still -way- too early for his taste.
After the previous nights party he felt like shit; his head ached and throbbed which he didn't know was possible at the same time and his stomach was doing flips. Not the nervous flips, the rollercoaster -I'm-going-to-be-sick- kind of flips.
Pushing down the feelings that left him feeling like absolute shit, Bryan untangled himself from the pair of arms wrapped loosely around his frame. He sat up in the large bed, tossing the half tangled blankets off of himself and stood up.
Just as he went to stretch his arms, a wave of nausea swept over him, leaving a sick feeling to crash down on him hard. The room felt like it was moving, when it shouldn't be and his head was spinning.
The next thing he realized was his face greeting the porcelain from the toilet bowl good morning followed by a fuck off as he flushed.
He sat down on the cold tiles and leaned his back up against the bathtub beside the toilet. He shivered, being only dressed in boxers and wiped his mouth clean. The horrible after taste lingered in his mouth, only making him feel sicker then before.
His body had a twisted sense of humor as another round crept up on him and he found himself, once again, emptying his stomach into the toilet.
The smell was atrocious but it was so hard to push himself up from the plastic seat his head was resting upon. Spitting a last time, riding his mouth of the vile omnipresent despicable taste that made him feel like his stomach would lurched forward again and any food still inside of him wouldn't remain for much longer.
On the count of three, a very slow count to be precise, he pushed himself up, closing the lid and flushing away the bile and food mixture.
Taking a few deep breaths, he staggered over to the sink and turned the taps, releasing a stream of cold water from the faucet. Filling his glass, he took a big gulp and spit it out, there for, riding himself of the god awful taste.
He didn't dare look at himself in the mirror, he could only imagine how pasty his skin looked and the dark bag under his eyes so, praying the sickly feeling would go away with more sleep; he dragged himself back to bed.
''Why'd you get up?''
Looking over his lover still snuggled comfortably in the bed; he snorted indignantly and settled himself back under the covers. Too tired to repeat himself, the other boy inched over to Bryan and wrapped his arms around him again, indulging in the body heat.
Bryan sighed a bit, followed by a strained and tired yawn. Turning the face the other, he nestled his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the relaxing scent of his cologne still lingering from the past night. The intoxicating odor made him feel more comfortable and relaxed, letting himself fall asleep faster.
A few hours had passed, sleep was blissful and washed away the icky feeling and brought him stomach back down to where it belonged and not in his throat. When his body finally regained consciousness, his eyes slightly peered open, reading the large red bolt digits indicating 12:30pm which that time around was a good enough hour to get up at.
''Good afternoon.''
All he saw was a blur of red as he sat up, leaning against the backboard. The sudden bouncing in the bed and the new weight settling beside him caused the mattress to go up and down slightly, bringing forth an unwelcome feeling of dizziness. But the warm sensation of a soft pair of lips against his cheek took away the moving feeling and he smirked slightly, leaning his head against the one doing the same on his shoulder.
''Why were you up earlier?'' The red head asked curiously.
''Got sick.''
''Poor Bry.'' Patting his stomach gently, earning himself a growl he grinned innocently, or rather tried anyway.
''No more drinking for a while Tala.''
''Not for you anyway.''
A headache was forming and a pain reliever was in desperate need. Though his head felt like he received a wooden bat to his skull, Bryan knew that he was venturing into the hang over stage.
It seemed odd to him though, recalling the night's events was easy. Every detail, images, person talked to was as clear as crystal. He could even remember every conversation which led him to think he hadn't consumed that much. Not that much would be defined by at least half a dozen shots, a usual amount before his speech became impaired and Tala looked like a ravish able god.
''You know...we didn't drink that much.'' Like a psychic, or just plain lucky, Tala brought up the conversation, dwelling in his partners mind. ''I don't even have a hang over.''
''I don't know what's wrong with me.''
''Maybe it's the flu!'' Tala, suddenly being dramatic sat up on his knees; brushing back the bed head tangled lilac locks from his forehead, taking his temperature.
''You're not warm...but I could make you warm.''
A sly grin played upon his lips, replacing his hand by a butterfly kiss.
''Till we figure out what's wrong with you. You are not to leave this bed. Doctors orders. Besides...I'll come join you.''
Bryan still wasn't sure what was wrong with him. His head felt like it was about to fall off but he didn't mind being waited at hand and foot for the day, it might be a fun idea.
-=TBC=-
You can all tell where this is going. The chapters will all be pretty much short but that means faster updates. Which I promise so no worries.