Title: A Fan of Crowds
Author: Milly Methodical
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Slash & Het, First time, hurt/comfort, trio!friendship, flangsty-fluff, baby!fic.
Pairings: Ron/Hermione, Ron/Harry, Harry/Hermione, etc., mentions of previous Harry/Ginny.
Rating: M
Warning: Sexual scenes, adult language, Partner Betrayal and other things that will give away plot, reading this will likely cause you to spontaneously combust if you're a total noob to fandom and have yet to read anything outside the het-box.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and will return the characters to their books after I have sexed them up and done all the naughtiest things I can think of to them.
A/N: This is unbeta'd, oops! I've never really enjoyed these pairings, but…uh, I don't know, the muse made me do it, my sister would likely be proud, but too squicked out to read anything this pornographic that's written by me. Please let me know how I did, and um, I'm sorry if I haven't quite spelled out what this is, but just…well, take a chance and try something new, it's definitely what I did!

Oh, and this fic is complete, but I may visit back with them later on if anyone asks nicely!

Summary: Hermione is getting sick of hearing Ron slip up her name every time they are in the middle of making love—and taking things into her own hands seemed like a good idea—until she came upon the scene in her living room and was given some unexpected news all at once.

Chapter One

"You okay, love?" Ron asked when he snuggled into Hermione's shoulder, pressing a long, sweet kiss there and finally looking at her, looking at his wife. Hermione did not answer, merely looked deep into those clueless blue eyes, and looked for an answer she had already found years ago.

"I thought this would make a difference, but you just can't let it go—can't let him go, can you?" Ron paused, blue eyes widening and that lovely flush, one that often made Hermione grin, spread over her fair-skinned husband and for once did not endear him to her.

"Wh-what do you—what's that supposed to mean?" Ron stammered his replied, looking away, thinking himself safe from her knowing eyes, and soon he was getting up, dragging on clothes, and pacing. "I mean, Mione, I just…what did I do wrong?" He stopped pacing, looked down at his newlywed wife, and looked so lost, Hermione felt a deep pang of sympathy and anger for him.

"You know what I mean, Ronald Weasley, I had thought—but I guess my mother was right, you can always tell a marriage by how the groom looks on his wedding day—and you didn't look happy at all, Ron. You looked ill, and you kept shooting glances at him, even as I pushed it all out of my mind." She sighed, pulled the sheet up to cover her body, feeling overly exposed.

"I didn't, it's not true, Mione! I love you, you know I do! I—" Hermione let out a strange laugh that cut off anything else he had been about to say, letting the sheet drop away she walked across the room, not missing how Ron's eyes still ran over her body with a combination of pride, possessiveness and shy wonder. She let her hand run over her belly, wondered if the signs she had been reading were right, if she were with child and let out a deep sigh, hating how much misery this one topic could bring them…this one teensy, tiny problem where her husband was in love with another person…a man, their best friend.

"I just wish you'd talk to me about it, Ron, we could work something out, but you're too stubborn to even admit this much…So, maybe we'd be better off to take a break, until you can figure out exactly how it is you feel about me…and about him," … Harry Potter.

Ron stared deep into the eyes of the woman he loved, allowed his mind to still long enough for him to really feel and he began to doubt himself, even as Hermione continued.

"I can't, we can't keep dancing around the subject, Ron. I know how you feel about Harry—hell, if I thought he would be open to it, I would've invited him to our bed years ago, but he's never shown any kind of inclination—" Ron gave a startled yelp and crashed to the floor at this, having thought the love seat had been behind him.

"You-you'd invite another man in our bed?" Wide blue eyes regarded her with shock, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Ron! Do you think I'm blind? I know you watch Harry with something a little more friendly in your eyes, and I would not object to having him warm our bed, but he's not…has he ever seemed to return our looks? Do you really think we could all survive that kind of…experiment? And if it becomes more…" She let the words trail off, but couldn't stop the pain from rising up in her eyes, the tears beginning to sting…if it becomes more, you'll leave me for him. She wasn't the smartest Witch in the century just because of her amazing ability to soak up knowledge like a sponge, she may not be the best people-person, but she did know her boys, knew that Harry would never turn down her love, if he truly embraced it—it was forever. But it wouldn't be Harry that would push her away—it would be Ron, her husband.

"What? 'If it becomes more,' what?" Ron demanded, eyes still confused, not sure when this night had gone from so lovely to something so awful—he wished they could just go back to bed and cuddle, wished they could just forget this nightmare and Hermione's obsession with Harry and her delusions that he wanted his best mate to join them in the sack.

"Haven't you ever heard the saying: 'two's company, three's a crowed,' Ronald?" She paused, but nothing seemed to be making sense to Ron, "Never mind, Ron, I'm going to go out for a bit, I'll be back soon." She pulled on a fresh pair of clothing, the cleansing spell Ron had muttered had been good enough for now—although as a Muggleborn, she still preferred a good shower—this would have to do. Not that Harry would object to her in any state of well, anything. They had seen one another through a great deal, and there had been moments where she had thought something more had been there. Especially when Ron had left them alone, and the nights had grown longer and colder, it was easy to imagine things…but she had never acted on those silly thoughts, and neither had Harry—there had been a bloody war on, for Merlin's sake! Who had time for anymore of that sort of drama?

"But no, wait Hermione! I don't understand, wait, can't we…talk?" Ron's protests came a minute too late as his wife was already heading towards the floo, and he didn't stop her from leaving. His head spun with the accusations that hadn't quite been shouted at him, but that seemed even worse than if she had screamed…Hermione's voice had just sounded down, defeated more than anything else. Ron sat down on the couch, looked up at the mantle where pictures of the Trio and of his large family all smiled back at him, waving and dancing, or looking a bit furious at him for his most recent matrimonial fight.

A knock at the door just a couple hours later made Ron hope, but he frowned, deciding it probably wasn't Hermione—she would never knock. But then again, most of his family wouldn't knock either. Drawing his wand, Ron walked to the door, the war was not that far behind them and old habits—good habits, if not paranoid—were good to keep.

"Who is it?" a tired sigh from behind the door made it sound like Harry, but Ron frowned deeper, wondered why his best mate wouldn't just come through the wards, like usual.

"Ron, open up—I can't open the door, hands are full," Ron gave a snort of a laugh, opened the door and looked at his friend, whose arms were full of suitcases, and the redheaded man gave another laugh, flicked his wand and then looked at his best mate again.

"Oh, right," Harry gave a sheepish grin, one hand coming up to half-mess, half-straighten up the dark hair there.

"Yeah, still a Wizard Harry, don't worry, one day you'll remember," Ron joked, and turned to lead the bags deeper into his flat, his sense prickling as he felt Harry close the door, allowing the wards to fully close again. "Thirsty?"

"I reckon so, fighting with Ginny will do that to a bloke, even when I can't get a word in edgewise with her…" Harry shook his head, thanking Ron with a nod when the man passed him a Butterbeer, sat down on the couch with another sigh. "I thought we would fight less as friends, but it turns out she's still just as fierce and loud as when we were dating," Harry tipped his head back and swallowed a larger amount of drink.

Ron found himself watching the way his best mate's throat moved with the motion of swallowing to be a bit distracting, so his own Butterbeer ended up more on his shirt than in his mouth. Harry stopped drinking and looked at the mess Ron had made of himself, laughed as Ron turned beet red and then looked round the room, taking in the new decorations Hermione had set up since they had moved in.

"Place looks nice," Harry's green eyes lit up on a picture of the three of them that had been taken a few weeks after James Sirius' birth and Ginny and Harry's break-up. The stress was evident in Harry's face, but the way Hermione and Ron stood around Harry, who was holding his newborn son, showed that he was not at all alone in his misery. "I think Gin might be dating someone, it's probably why she's so set on me dating again. I'm just not interested in anyone new, err, I mean…you know what I mean."

Ron shrugged, kind of guessing what his friend was saying, asking about James and work before the real reason Harry was here came up. "Look, I think…well, Hermione said some stuff." Ron left off there, didn't know where to look when he said the thing he had to say. "She was being really weird about saying all this stuff about being a crowd, but I don't think she understands how much I love her, I don't want to leave her behind, ever. She accused me of being unhappy on my wedding day, Harry—and I mean, I may have looked sick, but that's only because I kept expecting her to change her mind, what would someone amazing see in me?" Ron paused, looked sheepishly at Harry and blushed, "and I may, err…she thinks, that is, I may have some feelings for you too."

Harry stared, green eyes wide, and face blushing as he took in those words.

"Um, right—oh Merlin—I'm sorry, Harry… I don't even know what's wrong with me! I—" His words were cut off as Harry stood up, and Ron prepared to feel a punch to his jaw, welcomed the punishment he deserved for hurting his wife and making his best friend feel so awkward. If only one punch would be enough then maybe he cou—soft lips pressed to Ron's, light pressure that turned rougher when he felt a strange moan leave his throat, eyes still tightly shut, but his own lips responding without his permission. Another moan pulled out of him as his best friend slid ever closer to him and opened his mouth up to let Ron's tongue in, allowing him to explore and then hands were pulling at him.

Harry tugged him down to his knees on the carpet, pressed his body up to his, felt the evidence of how excited his best mate was due to him. Ron thrust his hips hard into Harry's, allowed his eyes to open hazily, pushed his hand down to feel Harry's hard dick in his jeans, hear the amazing sounds that came out of his mouth because of Ron. But still, something felt wrong, not good—not right—something was missing.

"Blimey, wish Mione was here," Ron sighed when Harry pulled back from the kiss, his hand freezing, and Ron felt another pang of guilt. "Oh shite! Hermione!" Ron was staring up into the eyes of his wife, who was standing in their door way, one arm carrying a suitcase and another holding her wand as a little group of shopping bags hovered behind her.

Ron knew a getaway when he saw one, felt betrayed and sick that Hermione would just leave without giving them—giving him—another chance. He felt guilt when he realized how she must have saw them together, and then noticed Harry was not looking very panicked and instead looked amused, while Hermione looked stunned and on the brink of laughter…and then Ron was angry. A strange and lonely pang of hurt was boiled up as he realized that he was the butt-end of this joke; that Hermione had told Harry of his shameful feelings and they two of them had conspired to get even all in one go. A master chess player like Ron could admire the cold, ruthless move that his two best friends had played, but his heart felt nearly done-in.

"What? But…" At Ron's tone, Harry looked confused, and even Hermione was no longer looking as amused as before, although there was still something off in her manner. "I can't believe you two would do this…I can't—" Ron stood up, his erection no longer present and before either Harry or Hermione could say a word, he disapparated from their house, tearing a fresh hole in their wards but carrying not a whit. His burning rage turned cold, numbed him as he sat down in a field near the Burrow, not wanting to intrude on his parents while still in such a mood, but knowing his family would have been notified of his presence because of his face on the family clock. Knew Hermione and Harry would know from his own silly family clock which had been a housewarming present from his family just a few months ago.

"Dammit!" Sitting there, Ron wondered at his own behaviour…wondered how it is he thought he could have had both Harry and Hermione, hated himself for feeling so greedy and wanting to have his cake and eat it too. The expression had never made sense to Ron, who often wanted the cake he had been given as well as the pudding and biscuits. The first prickle of tears felt foolish, but Ron allowed them to fall, allowed them to come and go, hated feeling so exposed to the two people who knew him best.

It took a while before he realized he wasn't quite alone, and when he looked up Ginny was staring at him with a mixture of anger, love, and slight amusement on her pale, freckled face.

"You're an idiot; you know that brother-mine?" Ginny shoved him over as she sat down, but was careful to hold her belly in a way that set off a weird sort of warning bell in his mind.

"Oh, don't tell me…" Ron buried his head in his arms, missed Ginny's fond expression for him and only just saw her raising his hand to him when he flinched, only to feel her hand ruffling his hair.

"Like I said, an idiot!" Sighing, Ginny leaned on her brother's shoulder, watched the way the sky looked all lit up and beautiful away from the light pollution of the Muggle world. "It'll be another boy, you know, for me," Ginny's voice sounded so happy, that Ron felt another pang of guilt—figuring Harry was the Father and hating himself for making out with his sister's ex—or not so ex—partner the same day she decides to tell him she's pregnant.

"I'm…oh blimey, Gin," Ron looked down at his little sister's head, moved an arm to cover her shoulders and dropped a kiss there, "Is it Harry's?" Ginny giggled at that and looked up into Ron's confused eyes, and rolled her own.

"Of course it is, you moron, who else could it belong to?" Ron sighed, winced and then made himself ready to speak but before he could say a word Ginny was talking away. "I know what you did tonight, Ronald Weasley, don't think my being pregnant will stop me from whipping you." Ron gasped, wondered if his sister was in on the plan when he stopped, and realized just how stupid he sounded in his own mind.

"Oh," was all he could say, but that one word carried a lot.

"Yes, 'oh', you owe Harry and Hermione a huge explanation and an even bigger apology." Ron gritted his teeth, rubbed a hand over his eyes and felt a blush heating his skin, he felt mortified at his mistake and like a real jerk for pushing away what had obviously been real feelings on Harry's behalf and Hermione's acceptance and desire to allow Harry into their bed, if not relationship.

"The bags!" Oh, damn, bollocking-Merlin's-beard! "Harry brought bags…oh," Ginny sighed again and shook her head, looked at her brother and then leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Go on then, tell Harry he best join me at the next appointment if he wants to keep all of his bits intact, no matter if you and Hermione are the ones who will be using them now." Ron paled at the idea, and then blushed just as suddenly, and Ginny had to cover another snort of laughter at the appalled and interested looks that warred for dominance over her brother's face.

"Gross, Gin—just…gross," his sister smiled and he stopped, "How far along are you?"

"Little over a few months, I didn't want to say anything—just in case, with mum…" Ron nodded, understanding what Ginny was saying without the words. It was easier to be safe rather than sorry with Molly, especially after the loss of Fred.

"And you and Harry aren't?" Ron didn't know how to end the question, so he just let his voice rise, felt more heat in his cheeks at his sister's knowing look.

"No, we aren't…this was just…this was," she paused, then smiled a bit sadly, "I think we both were just feeling nostalgic one night after having a little family outing with James Sirius, and one thing led to another. It just seemed to be something we needed to do, and this way James will have a little brother, but we aren't working that way, Ron, so stop looking so sick to your stomach, we were over long before tonight." Ginny held her tummy, which looked fuller than Ron had first realized, or maybe he was just finally seeing her right, and then looked happier, "Besides, this way I can stop feeling so guilty over dating over people, now that he's finally landed himself in such a committed relationship."

"Err, I don't think…well, I don't know what's happening, I mean…I kind of left," Ron winced again, hated himself and then stood up, helped his sister to her feet and then asked the question that was weighing heavily in his mind. "Think they'll really take me back?" Ginny scoffed, turned around and headed back towards the house where he could already see his mother and father standing in the softly light doorway, waving at their two youngest. Ron waved back and then looked to Ginny for the answer to his question.

"If you really have to ask me that, then you are an idiot."

Ron grinned, took a deep breath and turned—apparating to his front door—while wishing to Merlin that he could've taken the floo instead.

"Hm, so that…didn't go so well," Harry spoke softly as he stood up from where he had been kissing his best mate only moments earlier and faced Hermione who was still looking shell-shocked at tonight's earlier news and helped his best female friend to sit down on the couch.

"That, Harry Potter, was probably one of the biggest understatements you've made in the last few days," Hermione spared him a grin for his efforts and then leaned over and stole a small kiss from his kiss-bruised mouth. "Just wanted to see if it was as fun as it looked," she said after pulling back. Harry allowed a smile to break out on his face, pulled Hermione in for another kiss and then allowed his head to rest on Mione's shoulder.

"Yeah, probably. So, do you want to go after him, or should I?" Hermione shook her head, stood up and went to the floo, kneeling slower than usual and tossing a handful of powder she stated the burrow's address and waited for Ginny's head to come up into the green flames.

"Hey Gin, we need to talk…"

Knocking on his own door seemed weird, so instead he merely stepped inside the flat, removed his muddy shoes and walked into the living room. He expected to see Hermione or even Harry there, but was surprised at the lack of people in his living room. Moving cautiously to the kitchen, breakfast nook and then library/study, growing more and more concerned as he realized no one was there. It wasn't until he heard a familiar giggle coming from the upstairs rooms that he started to clue in.

"Hey, cut it out!" He heard a different familiar voice cut into the giggles, but then Harry was laughing too and Ron was puzzled, but felt lighter than he had in weeks, months even at the sound of Hermione and Harry laughing together. It wasn't until he was standing outside of his own partially opened door that he realized that in-between giggles his best friends – or rather his wife and…well, whatever Harry was to them now—were moaning.

"Um?" He spoke as Harry and Hermione both stopped what they were doing on the bed and turned to see him in the doorway, it was Hermione who smiled first and Harry who raised his hand to cast a silent spell that had Ron being pulled into the room and tied to a chair that was set up beside the bed. It was then that he noticed Harry was fingering himself, lube glistening on his fingers as he nuzzled Hermione's bare stomach and chest, slowly moving down to tongue at her clit.

The sight should have made Ron angry but instead, all he could do was moan and pull at his invisible restraints which were being held in place by Harry's magic, and Hermione was watching him, cheeks heated and eyes blown wide with desire and pleasure.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Ron's voice cracked on the words, and he licked his lips, even as Harry drew himself away—much to Hermione's displeasure, as she gave an impatient moan—and leaned over to kiss Ron with his mouth, which tasted of Hermione and Butterbeer and Harry. It was so good, and Ron groaned and bucked into the air, hands clawing at the arms of the chair, even as he knew how futile it was to fight.

"What are you sorry for, Ron? For mistrusting us so badly you'd think we would do something like that, or for storming away like an idiot before we could explain?" Hermione's voice was low, and beneath the anger was something softer, and more dangerous—and bloody hot!

"For, for both—and yeah, all of it," Ron stammered, as Hermione brought her hand up to pull at Harry's cock, and then brought another around to push Harry's fingers deeper into his arse, making him press the spot Ron knew could bring so much pleasure. Harry swallowed his moan with another kiss and Ron plunged his tongue deeper into Harry's mouth, searching for more of Hermione's taste, for more of Harry's, and mimicking the movement of Harry's fingers, in and out.

"Well, I don't think he's sorry enough, what do you think, Mione?" Harry said, voice deep and husky, eyes looking larger without the usual glasses, and Ron whimpered as Harry moved back to his wife, bit his lip as he watched his friend devour his wife like a starving man.

"Oh, oh fuck, Harry! No, I don't think he's sorry enough…not yet…" Hermione gasped as Harry pushed two fingers into Hermione, making a 'come hither' motion, pulling noises from her Ron loved. "But he will be," was all she could say before she was falling over the edge and Harry's mouth was tasting her release and then he was pulling Mione over so her head was closer to Ron's knees.

"Mm, I agree," Harry looked straight into Ron's eyes as he slowly pushed his way around Hermione's hole, hips snapping at the air at Ron's wife's gasping plea, and Ron couldn't help it, he started to beg, plead, and say whatever he could to be able to get to be a part of this show.

"Oh please, Mione—Harry, oh fuck, please let me go. I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry—just let me join you, oh Merlin, let he touch you while you fuck her, oh—please let me come," Ron rambled, and Harry seemed to be waiting for this. Just waiting for his bestfriend to give this final okay before sinking himself deeply into Hermione's willing and ready body. Green eyes fluttering at the tight, wet heat that Ron had been in only hours earlier. "Oh, please—oh fuck, yes, push into her, mm—gonna come, gonna—" Harry's eyes snapped back open, taking in the sight of a completely ruined Ron, who was shaking and coming apart just from watching Harry make him into a willing cuckold, blue eyes nearly obscured by blown pupils.

"If you come now, you won't be able to fuck me," Harry got out, and he watched Ron visibly shake with the effort not to explode, before taking mercy and leaning over, helping Hermione to get Ron's trouser's unbuttoned and cock of his pants. Ron's cock looked full and ready, and Harry watched as Hermione turned over onto her knees, pulled up closely to her husband and allow him to fuck her mouth as Harry began to thrust into her again from this new position. "Then again, maybe you should just come down Hermione's throat and fuck me later." Harry almost felt the deep and appreciative groan Ron let out, and he had to laugh a bit even as he sped up his pace, following the frantic pace Ron was setting as he mouthfucked his wife. "Mm, she's good at that isn't she Ron? She looks like she gives a really great blowjob, maybe I should fuck her mouth while you fuck my arse later, wouldn't you like that, Mione?" Harry rubbed Hermione's back, smacked her arse when she moaned at the suggestion, and then brought a hand around to play with her clit, drawing out another longer moan that finally brought Ron over the edge.

Resting her head on Ron's thighs, Hermione cried out as Harry finished deep within her and brought her own fingers up to play with herself for another moment before she felt another orgasm rock her, and then felt Harry's softening penis slip from her body.

"Oh Merlin, that was…" Harry laughed from the bed behind her, and pushed two fingers in her suddenly, making her keen and twitch.

"Amazing? Brilliant? Earth shattering?" Harry supplied, as he sped up the movement of his hand, making Hermione laugh and squirm away. "Wouldn't you agree Ron?"

The lack of answer made Harry look up sharply, worried that his friend was already regretting this, but what Harry found looked nothing like regret and a lot like a blown mind.

"Uh-oh," Harry said, and Hermione sat up, nervous and remembering why only now, although her chest was still red from her last orgasms, she was already losing her hazy state of mind as she took in her husband's face. "We broke him, Hermione." Harry joked.

Ron snapped out of it, eyes finally starting to come into focus, and then head shaking, before he looked down at his body and his spent self hanging out of his pants.

"Can somebody let me go now?" Ron grumbled, but he didn't look angry, just a bit shell-shocked and bewildered.

"Yeah, shite, sorry—of course," Harry rambled and mumbled a finite to which Ron looked bemused.

"Wait, you mean I could've…?" Harry grinned and Hermione laughed, pulling her husband towards the bed and thanking Harry when he cast a silent cleaning spell over them, and they both started pulling off the redheaded man's clothing. "I just…I am sorry." Both Harry and Hermione waited till Ron was fully naked before saying another word.

"Ron, I—" Hermione sighed, pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked to Harry for help.

"I've known about your feelings for a while, Ron." Harry let that one soak in for a second, then continued, "And Hermione's feelings…and I didn't quite understand my own, till Ginny spelled it out for me. I mean, I know she's your sister and this is kind of weird…but it's not, you know? It feels…normal, natural, I just didn't understand it was okay till she sat me down and told me how it was." Harry blushed, and looked down, "I hope you don't feel like I'm intruding, I know how they say 'two's company, three's a crowd,' I don't want to be…a nuisance." Ron shook his head, and Hermione scoffed.

"Boys," rolling her eyes, she gave Harry a fond smile, "Harry, you've never made us a crowd, you brought us together…besides, I've always been a fan of crowds, at least, when it's a crowd of three—of us. But I owe Ron an apology too, I got worried, about being left behind, but Harry reminded me of how silly I was being, thinking you two would leave me alone." Harry nodded, and Hermione continued, "I mean, if you guys didn't abandon me on that first Halloween with the troll and during the Lockheart thing, and all of the nagging, why would you start now?" she smiled at Harry and then turned back to Ron.

"Guess you know about Gin?" Ron nodded, and Hermione broke in again.

"About that, Ron…I have something I need to tell you," and Ron braced himself for another surprise, and then untensed when he felt both Harry and Hermione reaching out to touch him, Hermione bringing one of his large hands down to rest on her abdomen. He stared at his hand, remembered Ginny's words, looked at Harry and noticed how bright his friend—no, lover's—eyes were and broke out into a huge grin.

"No! Are you? Oh Merlin! I'm going to be a Dad? You're pregnant!" Pulling his wife into a happy hug, he laughed and then he was pouncing on Harry, capturing his mouth in a kiss, "We're going to be Dads—a baby! Harry, I'm going to be a dad!" Harry laughed, he felt Hermione's hand on his leg, and he was once again kissing her, touching her softly, gently, kissing her stomach and her eyelids. "So beautiful, my love, my pregnant wife, my sexy, lovely, amazing witch."

Hermione opened her eyes, tears gathering there, "I love you, Ronald."

"I love you too, Mione," Ron answered and then he pulled Harry up beside them, pulled the sheet down and over them and felt both of his lovers tucked closely to his body. "I love you Harry," Ron whispered after Hermione put out the light, and Harry sighed into his friend's chest, an arm reached over and entwined with one of Hermione's.

"I love you too, Ron, and I love you Hermione, I'm so happy for you guys," Harry replied softly, as Ron was drifting off, Hermione was still more awake and she responded with a "Love you Harry," that made him smile, even as his own eyes grew heavier and he fell asleep.

READ THIS AUTHOR NOTE BEFORE YOU CONTINUE FORWARD!

IF YOU SCARE EASY, HERE IS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT CHAPPY-IF YOU DON'T WANNA KNOW, QUICK, CLICK THE DARN BUTTON OVER NOW BEFORE I SPOIL AND YOUR EYES BURN WITH PURE RAGE!
...

...

...

...

...

...
I HAVE BEEN TOLD (THIS IS A PARAPHRASE) THAT I AM AWFUL, AWFUL PERSON.

Now my usual response to this would be something like: "LOLOLOLOL! get over it, it's a crazy fandom out there, kids, and someone's gotta tell you that sometimes, when two men make sweet, sweet love...they make sweet, sweet BABIES!"

TO BE FAIR, I warned that "reading this will likely cause you to spontaneously combust if you're a total noob to fandom and have yet to read anything outside the het-box" at the top where it said "warnings" but maybe that was just a mean and deceptive thing to do?

But honestly, I apologize to everyone

who had to be exposed to SUCH HORRORS! No, really, I'm sorry "noname," and at the same time, grow up yo, anon'ing on me like that? That's harsh! Fangirls gonna hate, gonnaaaa hate on me? :(

This author is SORRY...anyway, continue on to learn of the DEMONS I HAVE MADE WRIT OF.. or whatever.

I just didn't want to spoil, you know? But I will spoil now that some "noname" PERSON-who couldn't leave a name, hahaha, I love you-told me I'm awful for "DROPPING" this on all of y'all like a cup of boiling hot (babymaking) man-tea.. listen guys, this is tame in comparison to what I've read, and what I've heard about REAL LIFE, so.. if you need to know, there will be mild mpreg, but it's like a little more sci-fi than anything and it's TAME,I didn't make any graphic men-babies here, folks.. but that would be kinda cool to read, sometimes you just gotta take the plunge, love/noname..

Have any of you ever watched Star Trek: Voyager? The Ocampa have this nifty little kind of mitral sacs that grow on their backs and THAT is where the baby comes from, they are not arsebabies, I wouldn't DO THAT to a little, innocent babe (or to you guys). It comes out of the male's back and they stand and push during delivery (much like Buddha's mum did, but sans la elephant!) and there you have it, it's just some silly little thing that popped into my head cos my muse was all "KNOCK A BROTHER UP, M! AND KNOCK'EM UP GOOD!"

I reckon I did just that, muse... I reckon I did.

-M

Hey I love you, even if you run away screaming in pure disgust over thie little fandom gem (The-Preg-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named) Pretend this is the end, it was pretty fluffly, ne? So, leave some kind of review, even if it is just to hate on me until I cry a lot? :) I wrote this half-dead and un-beta'd and apparently I didn't warn the faint of heart out there either.. shame on me! :D SORRY AGAIN! :3