Title: With Gravity Tying Us Down

Author: unknown20troper

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairly OddParents.

Author's Note: Constructive criticism appreciated, particularly on characterization. This is not the smut I mentioned earlier, though it may contain smut sometime. The mpreg has basis in canon facts - Cosmo's pregnancy in Fairly OddBaby.

Pairing: Norm/Crocker

Warnings: mpreg, maybe male/male sex, set in the AU verse of most of my other Norm/Crocker fics

Summary: Norm's pregnant with Crocker's baby. But there's a problem: Crocker wants it; Norm just wants it out and gone.


Chapter 2: Getting Used To It

Slumped down on the bed, Norm whined and pulled the blankets farther over himself. So far that if other people were in the room and he was a mortal being, he'd be told to stop for fear of asphyxiation. His hands then moved back down to clutch his stomach. Not as though it helped much. Or at all, come to think of it. But at least he'd made an attempt at something. At least.

Norm shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths, picturing Barbara Eden (as Jeannie and very scantily clad, of course). Much as he loved his Crockpot, he couldn't deny that she was guaranteed to calm him down (or excite him; either way, she'd make him happy) and Crockpot was, well, kinda uncomfortable to think about, given that he had placed Norm in this situation (unintentionally but still). He licked his lips at the image, almost quivering with desire. Much better.

Denzel returned to the sight of his genie, naked and flushed, splattered with come and sleeping like a baby. Or rather, like how people wished babies slept. Real babies weren't as tranquil, as exhausted, as noiseless. Or as titillating. Not as though he really had much of an idea about most of it. Which was unfortunate, in light of his current situation.

He bit his lip, wondering whether to wake Norm up (or at least try to). It wouldn't make the genie happy, he was sure, but after his long day of teaching, he really wanted... well, it was hard for him to put his finger precisely on it but a kiss would be nice. So would sex. Or a date. Or just talking to him - even if Norm would direct a ton of sass at him during the conversation (not if, really; moments when the genie didn't snark at all were rare). Just... being with Norm, awake Norm... He sighed.

Then he picked up the book on fairies that he had been reading, sitting down on the bed beside Norm. It was very inaccurate, of course, being that it was about humanity's myths about them, not the actual creatures but he suspected that at least some of it would be accurate and helpful. And if not, well... now that he had Norm (and a baby on the way), fairies weren't as high on his priority list as they used to be. Like, they were still there and still rather high. Just not as high.


Bars. Bars. The prison kind, not the alcohol-and-sex kind. Those were the first things Norm saw after he drifted off, and he gulped. That they were made of wood - for some inexplicable reason - didn't manage to reassure him. With magic, fairies could probably create unbreakable wood, and human technology was at the point where they could disguise metal and other things as wood or maybe even make a fairly strong woodlike substance. So, he could have been spirited away to prison, as he was pleasuring himself to thoughts of Barbara Eden, totally numb to the world. That was still possible.

He looked down at the floor, as he dragged his hand along it. It was fabric, cushy and squishy fabric. Not a carpet. An asylum? Nah, he didn't think they had bars, once he started thinking more about it, and their surfaces were like bubble wrap, knobbled with big buboes, unlike the fabric he felt under his hand. That, and Norm didn't think he was what anyone would consider insane, unless they assumed that Crockpot's mental instability had rubbed off on him during their shag. Or they figured that Crockpot naturally would end up with someone bonkers. The second assumption, Norm was not happy to admit, had once been one of his, back before he gained a true understanding of Crocker, when he was chafing against the tight bonds of his enslavement and thirsting for Turner's blood. But... ah, smoof, he didn't wanna think about that.

His gaze then went up in the opposite direction. What he saw was Crocker's ceiling. And even as his heart lifted, it sank - his heart, not the ceiling, thank god. He knew what he was in. It wasn't jail, yeah, but... it still was pretty bad.

In his stomach, he felt a pang, and he looked down at it. Yep, the little parasite had followed itself into his dream, alright. He sighed. How dang long would it take to be rid of it?

Soon as he finished that thought, the baby hit at his stomach from the inside, making it ache even more. Not just once. Or twice. Or thrice. A lot. Then he felt something round pushing at the inside of his stomach, stretching it. He moaned. The pushing refused to stop. Not only that, it intensified. He even swore that he felt more than one round thing. One, two or more: however many they were, stopping just wasn't in their vocabulary. Not as though they had a vocabulary yet (or ever would, Norm couldn't help but add darkly).

Hearing a small sound, like that of a sticker being ripped off, Norm practically jumped up, turning his head in all possible directions. Nothing he saw seemed like the cause of that soft sound. But it happened again. And again. He was sure it was nothing, but his adrenaline just kept spiking. Spiking, spiking, spiking...

He took a few deep breaths. The spikes went down, down till there were none. None from the dumb little sound, at least. The dumb little sound which still hadn't stopped, dammitall. The dumb little sound which was getting bigger and bigger, as his stomach hurt more and more.

And then burst! As it did so, a baby rolled out, headfirst, covered in Norm's blood. Crockpot then, in a flash, loomed above the crib, and leaned down to pick up the baby, which he held in his arms and cooed at, leaving Norm wondering if he even noticed his boyfriend's pain. Not like he could wonder, really, since five more babies were tumbling out of the gash in his stomach, one after another, reddening the bed. And so, Norm screamed, screamed and screamed.

Until he felt a nudge, and suddenly wasn't in the overly-large crib anymore...

Crocker's ceiling was still there, though. And so was Crockpot, though it was now sitting on the bed, not looming above it. Norm sighed and smiled. Then as he looked at himself, his face reddened, he sucked in his chest, and he began to snap his fingers, envisioning a nice and comfy outfit.

But Crockpot gripped his wrist before he could finish.

"What gives, Crockpot?"

"Uh... nothing... just..." Crocker went red, just as Norm had a few moments earlier.

Norm laughed. "Oh, I get it now."

"Good."

"But I'm still gonna GONG some clothes onto myself."

Crockpot reluctantly loosened his grip on Norm's wrist, and the genie then did what he said he'd do. When he was done, he let out a sigh and said, "much better."

He then lifted up the covers and slid underneath them, beside Norm. "Not for me," he said, but with good humour in his voice.

"Don't worry. You'll have your chance, you horndog," Norm replied, chuckling. "Just… probably not during the next three months."

His Crockpot being his Crockpot, he immediately seized on what the genie was hinting at. "So, not nine, then?"

Norm nodded. "Yeah, for fairies and genies, it's three months. Like three wishes, I guess… But the Anti-Fairies, damn, they've got it good. Three seconds, and it's the women. All the time."

"Well, I doubt the Anti-Fairies have time to prepare," Crocker replied. "So, I suppose genies, fairies and humans are advantaged in that area."

Norm groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'd much rather not be, thank you very much."

Crocker snuggled closer, so close that Norm felt something stiff touch his ass (the genie couldn't restrain his smirk at that), and wrapped his arms around Norm. "I know, I know, Norm."

The genie laughed. "'Course ya do, the way I go on about it."

Crocker went quiet, averting his gaze. Norm didn't know quite why, but something had went… well, wrong. He nudged him with an elbow, hoping to knock him out of the sudden funk, but that only produced an annoyed noise. "Jeez, Crockpot, what it is it? I didn't say anything that bad, did I?"

It took a long while, but Crocker finally said something in response. "Not bad, exactly," He stretched out the last word. "Just, well… that reminded me of how complicated this situation is. That you don't feel as good about the baby as I do. And that… yeah…"

"Oh yeah, that, of course," Norm replied, sighing. "Can't forget that, can we?"

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Crocker asked. "I mean, other than aborting our baby."

Norm pursed his lips, thinking. "Hmmm… I dunno… can ya get a few days off work?"

"A few days off work?" Crocker frowned. "I don't think so. They don't pay me much as it is, and I need the money."

Norm laughed. "You've got a magical genie. What makes you think you even need money?"

"Well, Mother would get suspicious if I stopped going to work for some reason," Crocker answered. "And I don't want her to know about you. That and right now, you are a pregnant magical genie. Who knows what that does to your magic? And I really don't see you being in the mood for wish-granting."

Norm sighed. "First off, we're not Romeo and Juliet. The world won't end if your mom finds out about me. Though yeah, I'm definitely trying to avoid that, don't you worry! I can't say you're entirely wrong about the last two points, though."

"Ah, well," said Crocker. "Any other suggestions?"

Norm couldn't think of an answer, even after thinking for a while, so he simply kissed Crocker instead. Though it didn't solve anything, really, it definitely felt good and that was worth a lot.