Chapter Text
Alex doesn’t usually panic.
He’s the guy who thrives under pressure, the guy who once improvised his way through a debate round he forgot to prep for and won. The guy who talked his way out of a speeding ticket with nothing but a grin and a bullshit excuse about being late to a “very important meeting with his goddamn destiny.”
But right now?
Right now, he’s sitting on the closed lid of their toilet, gripping a pregnancy test in his sweaty hands, and panicking.
It’s not like this was impossible—he and Henry both know how their bodies work. But it wasn’t likely either. And yet, here he is, staring at two very solid pink lines, his brain caught in a loop of holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
Henry is reading in bed, oblivious.
Alex takes a deep breath, then another, then stands and walks into their bedroom with the grace of a man marching toward a firing squad.
Henry looks up when he enters. “Did you fall in?”
Alex, still clutching the test, blurts, “I’m pregnant.”
Henry blinks. “You—what?”
Alex swallows. Holds up the test like evidence in a trial. “Pregnant. As in, there’s a baby inside me. As in, we’re going to be parents.”
For a moment, Henry doesn’t move. Then, very slowly, he sets his book aside, swings his legs over the edge of the bed, and says, “I—oh.”
Alex’s heart is thudding in his chest. “Yeah.”
Henry stares at him. Then at the test. Then back at him. “Are you sure?”
Alex makes a sound that’s probably supposed to be a laugh but comes out a little unhinged. “I took three tests. Either I’m pregnant, or I’m part of some elaborate prank by the pregnancy test industry.”
Henry’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. Then—finally—he exhales, reaches out, and tugs Alex into his arms.
And just like that, Alex breathes again.
Henry presses a kiss to his temple, voice warm and steady. “We’ve got this, love.”
One Week Later
Henry is not doing great.
It started as mild nausea, which he brushed off as something he ate. But then it didn’t go away. And then came the vomiting.
It’s been four days now, and Alex is at his limit.
So when Henry barely makes it out of bed before bolting for the bathroom again, Alex marches in, crosses his arms, and says, “We’re going to the doctor.”
Henry groans from where he’s kneeling in front of the toilet. “I’m fine.”
Alex levels him with a look. “Henry, you’ve thrown up five times since last night.”
Henry attempts a weak glare. “It’s probably a stomach bug.”
Alex scoffs. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said last week, and look how that turned out.”
Henry freezes.
Alex’s eyes narrow. “Oh my God.”
Henry sits back on his heels, looking suspiciously pale. “No.”
Alex points at him. “Yes.”
“No, it’s—”
“You’re pregnant.”
Henry drags a hand down his face. “I’m not pregnant.”
Alex just raises his brows.
Henry hesitates. Then sighs.
Thirty minutes later, they’re at the doctor’s office.
Forty minutes after that, Henry is sitting on the exam table, staring at his test results while Alex smirks at him from the chair in the corner.
“Well?” Alex asks.
Henry looks up, exhausted. “I’m pregnant.”
Alex beams. “Called it.”
Henry glares. “I hate you.”
Alex just stands, moves to stand between Henry’s legs, and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “Nah, you love me.”
Henry sighs, melting into him. “Unfortunately.”
Alex grins. “So. Guess we’re doing this together, huh?”
Henry exhales, then nods, fingers curling around Alex’s wrist. “Looks like it.”
Alex kisses him again, a promise in the touch. “We’ve got this.”
Henry exhales, slow and steady, and smiles. “Yeah. We do.”
Henry is still staring at the test results like he can somehow will them into saying something different when the nurse knocks lightly on the door and steps inside.
She’s smiling—too knowingly, if you ask him—as she glances between him and Alex. “Alright, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen, we’ve got your bloodwork back.”
Henry swallows. “Right. Yes. And?”
The nurse’s smile softens. “Well, based on your hCG levels, you’re measuring about nine weeks along.”
Henry feels Alex go rigid beside him. He, on the other hand, feels like his brain just shut down entirely. “Nine—nine weeks?”
The nurse nods. “That would be the best estimate based on your labs. Of course, an ultrasound can give a more precise date, but given your symptoms and hormone levels, nine weeks is a solid approximation.”
Henry opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. “That’s—” He glances at Alex, who looks, for once in his life, completely speechless.
Then, suddenly, Alex barks out a laugh.
Henry frowns. “What?”
Alex turns to the nurse. “So, uh—hypothetically, if someone else in this room, who also happens to be pregnant, wanted the same bloodwork done, would that be possible?”
The nurse blinks, caught off guard. “I—of course. If you’re pregnant as well, we can absolutely run the same tests.”
Henry snaps his head toward Alex. “Are you serious?”
Alex smirks. “Dead serious.”
The nurse tilts her head, amused. “Well, if you’d like, we can draw your blood now and have the results in about an hour.”
Alex shrugs. “Let’s do it.”
Henry watches in mild disbelief as Alex rolls up his sleeve like he’s just casually signing up for a gym membership and not trying to confirm whether they are, in fact, in the most insane situation possible.
The nurse steps out to grab the necessary supplies, leaving Henry and Alex sitting in silence.
Henry exhales sharply. “Nine weeks.”
Alex runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Nine weeks.”
They turn to each other at the same time. Their gazes lock. And then—simultaneously—realization dawns.
There is exactly one night that fits this timeline.
Henry watches as Alex’s expression shifts, his eyes widening, his mouth falling open. “No fucking way.”
Henry buries his face in his hands. “Oh, God.”
Alex cackles, cackles, and leans back in his chair, his hands on his stomach. “Henry. Henry, think about it.”
“I am,” Henry groans, voice muffled. “Believe me, I am.”
Alex’s laughter turns slightly manic. “We got so cocky. We were having so much fun—”
“Oh, I know.”
“—and now we’re both pregnant.”
Henry peeks at him through his fingers. “You realize what this means, don’t you?”
Alex wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning. “That we’re menaces? That we need supervision?”
“That, and the fact that our children will forever be able to trace their existence back to that night.”
Alex groans dramatically. “Oh my God. You’re right.” He pauses, then grins wickedly. “Worth it.”
Henry sighs, but he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. “I suppose we did have fun.”
Alex leans over, pressing a quick, playful kiss to Henry’s cheek. “Wouldn’t change a thing.”
Henry hums, his fingers brushing absently over his stomach. “Me neither.”
The nurse returns a moment later, cheerfully unaware of their spiraling, and efficiently draws Alex’s blood. Then it’s back to waiting.
An hour later, the results come in.
Alex is nine weeks along.
Just like Henry.
They sit in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the paper in Alex’s hands.
Then Alex exhales. “Henry.”
Henry doesn’t look away from the results. “Yes, love?”
Alex grins. “We’re so fucked.”
Henry lets out a helpless laugh. “Completely.”
And yet, when Alex reaches for his hand, Henry squeezes back. Because as utterly ridiculous as this whole thing is…
He can’t help but think it’s going to be the best chaos of their lives.