It’s only been 30 years since I last wrote! I’m sorry.
have some mpreg!Kurt. he and Blaine are a little young, and he’s a little scared, but all’s well at the end.
It begins the week before Fashion week.
So, naturally, Kurt brushes it off, blames it on the stress, and moves on. Fatigue? All those extra hours at work. Lower backaches? Well, he was spending an awful amount of time sitting at his desk, hunched over his designs, dutifully on task. He couldn’t explain the nausea or the sudden aversion to coffee (especially when he needed it most), but it was stress, of course. Stress. It had to be stress. Stress, right? What else could it be?
But three weeks later, with Fashion week well behind him, Kurt finds himself sitting on the toilet lid in his bathroom, counting down minutes — oh god, seconds now, he thinks nervously — until he can turn over this silly test and prove that he’s not— Oh god, he’s not… well… pregnant.
Pregnant. Oh dear lord, pregnant. The more he even thinks about the word, the more foreign it feels. How could he possibly be pregnant? He’s a man, for Christ’s sake! He and his father used to joke that that was one less thing to worry about. Yes, there are male carriers, but they are so rare, it never crossed Kurt’s mind he could be one.
And now, look at him, sitting, hands shaking, leg bouncing, hiding from his husband, desperately waiting for this damn test…