Pink Procrastination [original prompt]
Title: Pink Procrastination
Prompt: original prompt
Length: 1358 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: mpreg
Summary: Yixing procrastinated everything, with sometimes uncomfortable results.
Notes: Thanks so much to the mods for creating such a fun chance to write this pairing, and A to helping me with characterization (all error are my own!) and throwing a first line at me. ☆彡 Thanks to A for taking my participation in gracious stride. (And throws flowers at you know who.)
Yixing knew that he should have read the entire pregnancy and childbirth book his mom had given him.
"Are you actually going to read that?" Yifan had remarked countless time, dusting the coffee table or vacuuming under the sofa or cleaning out the refrigerator - the offensively pink-covered book seemed to be able to drift around more freely than a missing sock.
"I'm working on it," he'd always say, before going back to the book he was reading or the the book review he was writing or the video game he was playing when he was supposed to be reading or writing - It's not my fault the book has such an ugly cover and I hate the font size and margin width. He knew it was an excuse for procrastinating, he had a bad habit of doing that and his pregnancy was no different, but he was always almost finished the book or about to reach the next level of lock-picking in Skyrim and the offensively pink-covered book with an ugly fontface and narrow margins would somehow drift on to the next location, maybe the back of the cereal cabinet or the bottom of the freezer.
All of which had led directly, do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars, to the current situation where it was early in the morning, Valentine's Day no less, but not so early that Yifan hadn't left for work already, and instead of finishing the Valentine's Day book review blog post that he was by now very overdue on, Yixing was sitting on the floor in the living room trying to figure out if he was going into labour already or not. There was a thing called Braxton Hicks; he couldn't remember what it was about really except that it was something to do with false labour and it was a ridiculous reason, it really was, but Yixing didn't want to call Yifan if it wasn't real labour, because that would be tantamount to admitting he hadn't read the book and he definitely didn't want to do that. It felt too much like losing.
He wasn't really sure at this point what he was losing but it made some kind of sense and and he wasn't going to argue with himself. He just wanted to find the book.
It wasn't under the sofa or in the sock drawer or in the pantry behind the extra rice cooker that Yifan had bought because he liked the limited edition pattern, and then Yixing had to sit down because the next contraction was even stronger than the last one which had been stronger than the one before. It was a whole minute before the pain stopped and he could breathe again, he knew for sure because he was watching the face of the confounded penguin clock he had liked so much when he'd bought it but now was convinced was personally mocking him. As soon as I can stand up again I'm going to throw you away.
Except instead of wasting time throwing the clock away he gave up on the idea of walking and crawled over to the bedroom, in case the book was hiding in the laundry hamper. Yixing was happy to find the dotted-swiss robe that he'd been missing for a couple month, but no confounded pink covered book. It was less than five minutes before the next contraction hit him, leaning against the side of the bed and almost crying in frustration. Everything was starting to feel like an endless bad dream, contractions and crawling and eternal searching for a book that was never going to be found. He was headed for his office, in case he'd mixed the book up in filing, when his phone rang, the sound emanating from the kitchen where he'd left it. Yixing missed answering it the first time because of another contraction, but it started to ring again when he reached it anyway out of obstinacy, and just in case it is labour, once I find that book, and I need to call Yifan, though he wasn't actually going to admit that to himself.
So he was slightly surprised to see that it was Yifan calling. He considered not answering for half a minute, just on the off chance that Yifan would ask him about the book and he'd have to admit that he had't read it yet but I'm going to right away as soon as I find it! but when he was sliding his finger to decline the call he somehow answered it instead.
"Yixing?" Yifan asked, his voice sounding concerned. "Are you okay? You didn't answer the first time."
Yixing flailed his hands where Yifan couldn't see them and tried to think fast. All he could think about was the ugly pink book. "I was...ah....designing book covers," he said, then rolled his eyes at himself and the baldfaced lie he'd just tried to pitch. Why didn't I just say I was in the washroom?
"Designing covers?" Yifan sounded confused, and with reason. "Is this a new part of the book reviewing?" There was no helping it. Yixing dived head in.
"I was just getting frustrated at some of the terrible book covers I keep seeing," Yixing made up on the spot, "and thought I'd try designing some of my own, put all those Photoshop lessons to good use." Actually, now that he was talking about it, he was starting to like the idea. I should really do this. For a moment he forgot all about babies and books he couldn't find and Braxton Hicks whatever-you-may-call-it.
And then the next contraction hit him and he couldn't help but moan in pain and the phone picked up everything.
"Yixing!" Yifan sounded panicked. "Are you okay?"
It was a weak moment, he would argue with himself later, my defenses were down.
"I think I might be going into labour," Yixing said when he could speak again.
"You what!!" Yixing could hear a mad scramble of paper and chair leg scraping against floor and then Yifan was obviously walking very quickly down the hallway, the sound of footsteps slapping against the floor as his husband ran for the elevator. "How long are the contractions and how far apart?"
"I don't know," Yixing said, trying to think. "Maybe over a minute long and less than five minutes apart?" He wasn't sure, he'd been too busy looking for the book.
"Yixing!" Yifan sounded worried and a little bit angry. "Why didn't you call me earlier?" Yixing could hear the sound of the car starting and someone backing up a little too fast in the underground parking garage.
"I wasn't sure," he said, "I thought it might be that Braxton Hicks thing." Even over the phone he could hear Yifan sighing heavily.
"You didn't read the book, did you," he said, accompanied by the sounds of traffic.
"I was looking for it," Yixing said defiantly. "I just haven't found it yet."
"Yixing," Yifan said, "you're a guy. You need to get to the hospital earlier than women because there's nowhere for the baby to come out. Braxton Hicks don't really apply once you're in your last couple weeks."
"Oh, right," Yixing said, "oops."
"I'll be right there so put your coat on," Yifan said, before hanging up.
♡ ♡ ♡
Everything turned out alright, thank goodness, and the doctor only scolded Yixing for a mere ten minutes while they were prepping him for the cesaerian. Afterwards, Yifan with happy tears in his eyes and Yixing, overjoyed but also wishing that Amber, despite congratulating him on such a happy Valentine's gift, would stop glaring at him, why didn't I get an obstetrician I didn't know? thought privately to himself that he was going to go into cover design. He was going to get a proper pregnancy handbook published, with a neon orange glow-in-the-dark cover for easy spotting and all the Very Important Information written on the back in case the person who needed to read it didn't actually get around to reading it but only skimmed the cover. He kissed his baby on her tiny forehead and smiled at the thought.
Prompt: original prompt
Length: 1358 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: mpreg
Summary: Yixing procrastinated everything, with sometimes uncomfortable results.
Notes: Thanks so much to the mods for creating such a fun chance to write this pairing, and A to helping me with characterization (all error are my own!) and throwing a first line at me. ☆彡 Thanks to A for taking my participation in gracious stride. (And throws flowers at you know who.)
Yixing knew that he should have read the entire pregnancy and childbirth book his mom had given him.
"Are you actually going to read that?" Yifan had remarked countless time, dusting the coffee table or vacuuming under the sofa or cleaning out the refrigerator - the offensively pink-covered book seemed to be able to drift around more freely than a missing sock.
"I'm working on it," he'd always say, before going back to the book he was reading or the the book review he was writing or the video game he was playing when he was supposed to be reading or writing - It's not my fault the book has such an ugly cover and I hate the font size and margin width. He knew it was an excuse for procrastinating, he had a bad habit of doing that and his pregnancy was no different, but he was always almost finished the book or about to reach the next level of lock-picking in Skyrim and the offensively pink-covered book with an ugly fontface and narrow margins would somehow drift on to the next location, maybe the back of the cereal cabinet or the bottom of the freezer.
All of which had led directly, do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars, to the current situation where it was early in the morning, Valentine's Day no less, but not so early that Yifan hadn't left for work already, and instead of finishing the Valentine's Day book review blog post that he was by now very overdue on, Yixing was sitting on the floor in the living room trying to figure out if he was going into labour already or not. There was a thing called Braxton Hicks; he couldn't remember what it was about really except that it was something to do with false labour and it was a ridiculous reason, it really was, but Yixing didn't want to call Yifan if it wasn't real labour, because that would be tantamount to admitting he hadn't read the book and he definitely didn't want to do that. It felt too much like losing.
He wasn't really sure at this point what he was losing but it made some kind of sense and and he wasn't going to argue with himself. He just wanted to find the book.
It wasn't under the sofa or in the sock drawer or in the pantry behind the extra rice cooker that Yifan had bought because he liked the limited edition pattern, and then Yixing had to sit down because the next contraction was even stronger than the last one which had been stronger than the one before. It was a whole minute before the pain stopped and he could breathe again, he knew for sure because he was watching the face of the confounded penguin clock he had liked so much when he'd bought it but now was convinced was personally mocking him. As soon as I can stand up again I'm going to throw you away.
Except instead of wasting time throwing the clock away he gave up on the idea of walking and crawled over to the bedroom, in case the book was hiding in the laundry hamper. Yixing was happy to find the dotted-swiss robe that he'd been missing for a couple month, but no confounded pink covered book. It was less than five minutes before the next contraction hit him, leaning against the side of the bed and almost crying in frustration. Everything was starting to feel like an endless bad dream, contractions and crawling and eternal searching for a book that was never going to be found. He was headed for his office, in case he'd mixed the book up in filing, when his phone rang, the sound emanating from the kitchen where he'd left it. Yixing missed answering it the first time because of another contraction, but it started to ring again when he reached it anyway out of obstinacy, and just in case it is labour, once I find that book, and I need to call Yifan, though he wasn't actually going to admit that to himself.
So he was slightly surprised to see that it was Yifan calling. He considered not answering for half a minute, just on the off chance that Yifan would ask him about the book and he'd have to admit that he had't read it yet but I'm going to right away as soon as I find it! but when he was sliding his finger to decline the call he somehow answered it instead.
"Yixing?" Yifan asked, his voice sounding concerned. "Are you okay? You didn't answer the first time."
Yixing flailed his hands where Yifan couldn't see them and tried to think fast. All he could think about was the ugly pink book. "I was...ah....designing book covers," he said, then rolled his eyes at himself and the baldfaced lie he'd just tried to pitch. Why didn't I just say I was in the washroom?
"Designing covers?" Yifan sounded confused, and with reason. "Is this a new part of the book reviewing?" There was no helping it. Yixing dived head in.
"I was just getting frustrated at some of the terrible book covers I keep seeing," Yixing made up on the spot, "and thought I'd try designing some of my own, put all those Photoshop lessons to good use." Actually, now that he was talking about it, he was starting to like the idea. I should really do this. For a moment he forgot all about babies and books he couldn't find and Braxton Hicks whatever-you-may-call-it.
And then the next contraction hit him and he couldn't help but moan in pain and the phone picked up everything.
"Yixing!" Yifan sounded panicked. "Are you okay?"
It was a weak moment, he would argue with himself later, my defenses were down.
"I think I might be going into labour," Yixing said when he could speak again.
"You what!!" Yixing could hear a mad scramble of paper and chair leg scraping against floor and then Yifan was obviously walking very quickly down the hallway, the sound of footsteps slapping against the floor as his husband ran for the elevator. "How long are the contractions and how far apart?"
"I don't know," Yixing said, trying to think. "Maybe over a minute long and less than five minutes apart?" He wasn't sure, he'd been too busy looking for the book.
"Yixing!" Yifan sounded worried and a little bit angry. "Why didn't you call me earlier?" Yixing could hear the sound of the car starting and someone backing up a little too fast in the underground parking garage.
"I wasn't sure," he said, "I thought it might be that Braxton Hicks thing." Even over the phone he could hear Yifan sighing heavily.
"You didn't read the book, did you," he said, accompanied by the sounds of traffic.
"I was looking for it," Yixing said defiantly. "I just haven't found it yet."
"Yixing," Yifan said, "you're a guy. You need to get to the hospital earlier than women because there's nowhere for the baby to come out. Braxton Hicks don't really apply once you're in your last couple weeks."
"Oh, right," Yixing said, "oops."
"I'll be right there so put your coat on," Yifan said, before hanging up.
♡ ♡ ♡
Everything turned out alright, thank goodness, and the doctor only scolded Yixing for a mere ten minutes while they were prepping him for the cesaerian. Afterwards, Yifan with happy tears in his eyes and Yixing, overjoyed but also wishing that Amber, despite congratulating him on such a happy Valentine's gift, would stop glaring at him, why didn't I get an obstetrician I didn't know? thought privately to himself that he was going to go into cover design. He was going to get a proper pregnancy handbook published, with a neon orange glow-in-the-dark cover for easy spotting and all the Very Important Information written on the back in case the person who needed to read it didn't actually get around to reading it but only skimmed the cover. He kissed his baby on her tiny forehead and smiled at the thought.