*****Two Months Later******

Matthew had fallen in love with a man and gotten pregnant with his child. Though, it hadn't happened necessarily in that order. And now, if it hadn't before, that pregnancy was causing a problem.

Matthew hadn't been advertising the fact. It wasn't planned or expected, and he wasn't part of a relationship where it was socially "okay" to fall pregnant. Matthew wasn't even part of a gender where it was okay. And now, he was losing the ability to choose who knew about it.

He stood in front of the mirror sideways, sucking in as much as he could. No use. He still looked pregnant. Dammit. He'd read stories about people who hardly showed the whole time. Why couldn't he be like that? But, no. Matthew likened the experience to being a turkey timer that had just popped. In the same way, there was no way to get his goose uncooked.

He sighed and put his shirt back on. He'd had to go up a size when his original clothing began to get too tight to even resemble fitting well. Now, since his shoulders hadn't grown, he looked like he was running around in clothes that were simply too big. He wished they made men's maternity shirts.

He considered the irony of that wish as he pulled up his pants. Dammit, now they wouldn't button either. He stared pathetically at the gapping front in the mirror. He figured calling in sick would come off better than wearing sweat pants to work.

He walked into his living room with his pants open. Bernwald was on his sofa reading the paper, having stayed over the night before.

"It's all your fault," Matthew said plainly.

"Good mornin'. I love ya too." Berwald said, turning the page.

"My pants won't button anymore..."

"Ah, I see..."

"Do you love me enough to get me new pants?"

"D' ya love me 'nough tha' ya'll come o'er an' kiss me?"

"Yes." Matthew kissed him, smiling softly.

Berwald pulled him into his lap. "It's true... Wha' they say abou' pregnan' peopl' bein' all th' more beaut'ful."

"You're a sweet talker. Always have been," Matthew touched his forehead to Berwald's. "That's what got me in this condition in the first place."

"Ah, as I r'call, ya were pr'tty sweet on me wit'out me talkin'."

"Shush, you. I like to pretend I was defenseless when there are tiny feet stuck between my ribs."

Berwald looked down, raising his eyebrows in slight surprise. "Th' babe can do tha'? I though' they were a littl' more c'nfined."

"Oh, they definitely can. And then they sit right on your bladder. And then they stretch and hit both targets at once. And don't get me started on kidneys..." Matthew was really only whining now.

"Ya make me gl'd I can't get pregnan', Matthew."

"Don't be so sure," Matthew mock scowled. "You don't know until you take it from someone and it sticks."

"Ah, see. Whet'er or not I could, I don' take it. Tha's yer job."

"When you say it like that, it makes me sound like a hooker. I have an actual job, you know."

"I know. An' I hafta get ya some clothes so ya can go, so get up." He patted Matthew's thigh, and Matthew got off.

"Thank you, Berwald."

Two days later, Matthew didn't need the pants. And he was crying on the couch. The combination of the sudden information and the sudden emotion made Berwald fear the worst, but, thankfully, it was only the really bad.

"They laid me off... They just... Laid me off... I never showed up late... I did my job really well... I thought I was a valuable employee..."

"Shh, Matthew. It's not 'bout how good a work'r ya are," Berwald offered comfort.

"It was supposed to happen six weeks ago, but they forgot to tell me..."

"Tha's... Ouch."

Matthew sniffled, "Yep. And now I don't have income or insurance... I don't know what I'm going to do about the baby... It's not like I can have them at home, I'm not built that way..."

"Well... Ya could..." Berwald was deep in thought.

"Have them at home? No, definitely not. I don't think you can learn to be a surgeon in three months. You work at IKEA." Matthew wiped his eyes on his sleeve, still crying a little.

"C'rrection, I run IKEA. 'M in charge."

"Okay, you're in charge. You're still not a surgeon."

"I wasn' talkin' 'bout tha' anyway. I was thinkin', maybe ya could come live 'n Sweden fer a littl' while. The medic'l stuff, it's bett'r o'er there. An' it's a beaut'ful place, very relaxin'. I 'ave a house there. Ya could stay fer... Fer as long as ya want'd."

"Live there...? Like... Move in with you?"

"We pract'cally live t'gether a'ready."

"But we still have our own space..."

"My house isn't tha' small."

"Well... It's another continent..."

"It's a big move, but ya could always come ba'k, if ya wanted. Or ya could stay. Ya'd love th' people. Mos' everyone speaks English. An' they'd have a job somewh're for ya."

"Let me think about it..."

"Take yer time, we've got pl'nty." Berwald comforted.

"I've thought about it. Let's do it." Matt said a fraction of a second later.

"Funny boy..." Berwald kissed him softly.

-x-

It may continue.