Disclaimer:Naruto isn't mine
Being a dad means rubbing her back every night until the baby is born or your hands fall of, whichever comes first.
Shikamaru often wondered if Kiba was made out of toughness. He was smart enough to know people aren't made out of toughness, but he willing to bet all his nap-time that the Inuzukas were the closest thing out there.
Pregnancy changed in that in a very minor way. Kiba was still going to do all the things he did, unless he was tied down which happened frequently throughout the pregnancy, and didn't care if some stupid doctor said he couldn't.
Shikamaru liked Kiba's spunk and spitfire, after all it was what made him so attracted to Kiba in the first place, but he also liked it when Kiba slowed down and got off his high horse.
"Shika? Would you mind rubbing my back?" Kiba said one night as they were getting ready for bed.
"Sure." Shika began to slowly rub circles on Kiba's back. And he rubbed. And rubbed. And rubbed. He felt like he was going to spend the whole night rubbing Kiba's back while Kiba made dog-like content noises. Woofing was an turn-on on Shikamaru's book. Dear Kami, this is what happened when you spend an hour rubbing circles into your pregnant husband's back. How many hours had Shikamaru been rubbing anyway? Shikamaru looked at the clock.
Only five minutes had passed.