Fic: Who's Your Daddy
Title: Who's You Daddy?
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance and Humor
Pairings or Characters: OT7
Warnings: Yaoi, hetero and PREGNANCY!
Summary: When one loves many, it is difficult to name just one the father of a child. And so Haruhi compensates with giving them each a month.
Author's Notes: Enjoy. Initially, I wasn't too pleased with this fic, but...Generally, I had a pretty good amount of fun with this one...^^ Read on, my lovelies!
Month: The First
No one is a mommy, no one is a daddy. There is no unusual jitter or amazing happiness. There is work, work, work, play and more work.
And then there is morning sickness.
Month: The Second
“Haruhi,” Tamaki croons through the door, wrapping lightly on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
“If you don’t come out soon, the food’s going to get cold,” Hikaru calls to her.
“mph morg gant,” comes the muffled response that has three of the six men with their ears to the door.
“Says what now?” Elbows connect with ribs and muffled swears and demands to move over are hissed before three skulls crack together painfully and the Hitachiin twins and blond Suoh slump at the foot of the woman who had just emerged from the bathroom.
Haruhi looks shaken, and pale, and she’s clutching a white stick in her hand like a life-line. At one end, a bright blue cross is illuminated. “I...I’m...pregnant...”
And silence. The idiots on the ground sit up and stare at her. The conservative three standing also stare at her, and Haruhi’s shoulders begin to shake.
“Is..is that a bad thing, Haru-chan?” Hunny asked tentatively. The seven of them had never really discussed children in the negative or positive sense, and now they were faced with the topic head on and irrefutably.
“N-no...” her entire body is shaking now, but there is a small smile on her face that catches tears in her small dimples. “No, I’m...I’m fine with it.”
Month: The Third
This month, Kyouya is the father. At least that is what Haruhi tells herself when she is bent over the toilet (or garbage, or lunch bag) at work or at home as a line from Tamaki’s newly purchased ‘Pregnancy and Childbirth” book ran through her head. The more violent and frequent your morning sickness bouts are, the likely hood that your child with be of above normal intelligence increases.
She wouldn’t ear unless it was one of her strange cravings (bananas in spaghetti, hot sauce over ice cream, ootoro, sashimi on sugared toast) and even then, she would often decide she didn’t want the food once it was prepared and in front of her.
Despite the incredibly expensive and rich foods that Tamaki had imported, or the specially made food full of nutrients for the unborn baby that Kyouya instructed Mori and Hunny in making, or the rich foods that the twin brought back from their numerous fashion shows (models don’t eat), she is always on the tiled floor of one of the houses’ many bathrooms an hour or two later.
As some unrecognized hands hold her hair back or rub her shoulders, Haruhi groans at finding herself hungry once again. “At this rate, your kid had better be a goddamned genius.”
Month: The Fourth
This month, Mori is the father. The child is still most of the time, but when it moves, she can tell exactly what the baby is doing. For some reason, it reminds her of him.
Her stomach is distended, and her pants don’t always fit properly, but other than that, there is no obvious signs she is pregnant to those who don’t already know. She enjoys this: no special treatment.
Month: The Fifth
This month, Kaoru is the father. He has taken to following her around like an adoring puppy, but is subtle about it. There are small touches, the one’s he’s often seen sharing with Hikaru, and he begins reading Tamaki’s pregnancy books that the blond hadn’t even finished yet.
Together, they shop (Kyouya having already agreed to turn his study - the room closest to Haruhi’s - into a nursery) for gender neutral decorations and cloths for the baby before sitting down in a ‘commoner’s coffee shop’ to theorize about names. For some reason, this makes her think of what her parents must have looked like when they were pregnant with her, and that makes her smile.
Month: The Sixth
This month, Hikaru is the father, if for no other reason than an event that happened on the first of the month in the infinitesimal hours of the morning.
Hikaru burst into her room in nothing but his night cloths, waving a book (she was really getting sick of these books) around happily and proclaiming, “Haruhi!! Haruhi, wake up!!”
“What is it?!” she snapped in return, practically biting off the Hitachiin’s head as he slowly crawled onto her bed.
“I just read- the baby can hear voices! Outside voices! Already!” She had known this for some time, but bit her tongue and let him have his thunder. “Here, let me talk to him.”
“Or her.”
“Let me talk to him/her.”
She sighed, reminded of how persistent Tamaki and Hikaru could be when they were excited about something. Haruhi leaned back anyway as the older of the twins put his mouth to her swollen mid-section and began to speak.
“Hey, little guy -” a scathing look from the mother “-or girl. This is one of your father’s speaking. I just wanted to say I love you; no possible exception to that. And that I’ll spoil you more than any of your other daddies, too.”
Month: The Seventh
It is Hunny’s baby this month. The child rolls over whenever the blond (who is barely an inch taller than Haruhi) bends town to touch her stomach, and becomes active whenever she eats cakes or sweets.
There is also the determining factor that Hunny offered to give Usa-chan to the baby, and places his beloved stuffy in the vacant crib (after sleeping with it under his arm once more.)
Month: The Eighth
Now, Tamaki is the father, if for no reason other than fatherly pride finally seemed to be going to his head. He enjoys taking her out and bragging about the baby to anyone who’ll listen to him. He accompanies her to the doctor, the store and only after she forced him to stop did he quit showing up at her work unexpectedly.
Still, he tries, and it is sweet in an obnoxious sort of way, and she allows him to rest with his hand on her stomach when they are at home, listening patiently what every gurgle of her stomach means for the baby and if the child made it. She smiles and easily answers him.
Month: The Ninth
She is the father that final month, enjoying the odd stares she attracts when she goes out with her lovers and someone asks who the father is. Blatantly, Haruhi always replies, “Oh, one of them anyway.”
Unnecessary presents pour in, only to be given to charity when there is no more room in the nursery, and old school mates (Renge, Nekozawa, Kasanoda, Mei, etc.) stop by the offer their congratulations. Haruhi accepts them all, complying with requests to feel her distended stomach and answering any questions they ask about the last nine months.
She has already picked out a name, but tells no one - not even the six who ask her every day. “You’ll have to wait until he’s born,” she tells them slyly (and it seems everyone but Tamaki picks up on the fact that she just disclosed the decided gender).
And then the day comes.
Screaming, sweat, blood, more screaming, swearing and lots of crying...
Haruhi was fine, of course, but the men were all wrecks. And, after thirteen hours of painful labor, tiny Fujioka Soshi was born. The nurse is beaming as she enters the room, holding the cleaned and swaddled child in a light blue hospital blanket and makes toward the group gathered around the bed before faltering.
“Uh...which is the father?”
Haruhi, tried and exhausted and sore, motions at the cluster around her as a whole and sleepily replies with a sigh, “All of them...”
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance and Humor
Pairings or Characters: OT7
Warnings: Yaoi, hetero and PREGNANCY!
Summary: When one loves many, it is difficult to name just one the father of a child. And so Haruhi compensates with giving them each a month.
Author's Notes: Enjoy. Initially, I wasn't too pleased with this fic, but...Generally, I had a pretty good amount of fun with this one...^^ Read on, my lovelies!
Month: The First
No one is a mommy, no one is a daddy. There is no unusual jitter or amazing happiness. There is work, work, work, play and more work.
And then there is morning sickness.
Month: The Second
“Haruhi,” Tamaki croons through the door, wrapping lightly on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
“If you don’t come out soon, the food’s going to get cold,” Hikaru calls to her.
“mph morg gant,” comes the muffled response that has three of the six men with their ears to the door.
“Says what now?” Elbows connect with ribs and muffled swears and demands to move over are hissed before three skulls crack together painfully and the Hitachiin twins and blond Suoh slump at the foot of the woman who had just emerged from the bathroom.
Haruhi looks shaken, and pale, and she’s clutching a white stick in her hand like a life-line. At one end, a bright blue cross is illuminated. “I...I’m...pregnant...”
And silence. The idiots on the ground sit up and stare at her. The conservative three standing also stare at her, and Haruhi’s shoulders begin to shake.
“Is..is that a bad thing, Haru-chan?” Hunny asked tentatively. The seven of them had never really discussed children in the negative or positive sense, and now they were faced with the topic head on and irrefutably.
“N-no...” her entire body is shaking now, but there is a small smile on her face that catches tears in her small dimples. “No, I’m...I’m fine with it.”
Month: The Third
This month, Kyouya is the father. At least that is what Haruhi tells herself when she is bent over the toilet (or garbage, or lunch bag) at work or at home as a line from Tamaki’s newly purchased ‘Pregnancy and Childbirth” book ran through her head. The more violent and frequent your morning sickness bouts are, the likely hood that your child with be of above normal intelligence increases.
She wouldn’t ear unless it was one of her strange cravings (bananas in spaghetti, hot sauce over ice cream, ootoro, sashimi on sugared toast) and even then, she would often decide she didn’t want the food once it was prepared and in front of her.
Despite the incredibly expensive and rich foods that Tamaki had imported, or the specially made food full of nutrients for the unborn baby that Kyouya instructed Mori and Hunny in making, or the rich foods that the twin brought back from their numerous fashion shows (models don’t eat), she is always on the tiled floor of one of the houses’ many bathrooms an hour or two later.
As some unrecognized hands hold her hair back or rub her shoulders, Haruhi groans at finding herself hungry once again. “At this rate, your kid had better be a goddamned genius.”
Month: The Fourth
This month, Mori is the father. The child is still most of the time, but when it moves, she can tell exactly what the baby is doing. For some reason, it reminds her of him.
Her stomach is distended, and her pants don’t always fit properly, but other than that, there is no obvious signs she is pregnant to those who don’t already know. She enjoys this: no special treatment.
Month: The Fifth
This month, Kaoru is the father. He has taken to following her around like an adoring puppy, but is subtle about it. There are small touches, the one’s he’s often seen sharing with Hikaru, and he begins reading Tamaki’s pregnancy books that the blond hadn’t even finished yet.
Together, they shop (Kyouya having already agreed to turn his study - the room closest to Haruhi’s - into a nursery) for gender neutral decorations and cloths for the baby before sitting down in a ‘commoner’s coffee shop’ to theorize about names. For some reason, this makes her think of what her parents must have looked like when they were pregnant with her, and that makes her smile.
Month: The Sixth
This month, Hikaru is the father, if for no other reason than an event that happened on the first of the month in the infinitesimal hours of the morning.
Hikaru burst into her room in nothing but his night cloths, waving a book (she was really getting sick of these books) around happily and proclaiming, “Haruhi!! Haruhi, wake up!!”
“What is it?!” she snapped in return, practically biting off the Hitachiin’s head as he slowly crawled onto her bed.
“I just read- the baby can hear voices! Outside voices! Already!” She had known this for some time, but bit her tongue and let him have his thunder. “Here, let me talk to him.”
“Or her.”
“Let me talk to him/her.”
She sighed, reminded of how persistent Tamaki and Hikaru could be when they were excited about something. Haruhi leaned back anyway as the older of the twins put his mouth to her swollen mid-section and began to speak.
“Hey, little guy -” a scathing look from the mother “-or girl. This is one of your father’s speaking. I just wanted to say I love you; no possible exception to that. And that I’ll spoil you more than any of your other daddies, too.”
Month: The Seventh
It is Hunny’s baby this month. The child rolls over whenever the blond (who is barely an inch taller than Haruhi) bends town to touch her stomach, and becomes active whenever she eats cakes or sweets.
There is also the determining factor that Hunny offered to give Usa-chan to the baby, and places his beloved stuffy in the vacant crib (after sleeping with it under his arm once more.)
Month: The Eighth
Now, Tamaki is the father, if for no reason other than fatherly pride finally seemed to be going to his head. He enjoys taking her out and bragging about the baby to anyone who’ll listen to him. He accompanies her to the doctor, the store and only after she forced him to stop did he quit showing up at her work unexpectedly.
Still, he tries, and it is sweet in an obnoxious sort of way, and she allows him to rest with his hand on her stomach when they are at home, listening patiently what every gurgle of her stomach means for the baby and if the child made it. She smiles and easily answers him.
Month: The Ninth
She is the father that final month, enjoying the odd stares she attracts when she goes out with her lovers and someone asks who the father is. Blatantly, Haruhi always replies, “Oh, one of them anyway.”
Unnecessary presents pour in, only to be given to charity when there is no more room in the nursery, and old school mates (Renge, Nekozawa, Kasanoda, Mei, etc.) stop by the offer their congratulations. Haruhi accepts them all, complying with requests to feel her distended stomach and answering any questions they ask about the last nine months.
She has already picked out a name, but tells no one - not even the six who ask her every day. “You’ll have to wait until he’s born,” she tells them slyly (and it seems everyone but Tamaki picks up on the fact that she just disclosed the decided gender).
And then the day comes.
Screaming, sweat, blood, more screaming, swearing and lots of crying...
Haruhi was fine, of course, but the men were all wrecks. And, after thirteen hours of painful labor, tiny Fujioka Soshi was born. The nurse is beaming as she enters the room, holding the cleaned and swaddled child in a light blue hospital blanket and makes toward the group gathered around the bed before faltering.
“Uh...which is the father?”
Haruhi, tried and exhausted and sore, motions at the cluster around her as a whole and sleepily replies with a sigh, “All of them...”