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Britin: A Day in the Life

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January 1 – 17 weeks

Justin hugged the toilet bowl, his forehead pressed against the cool porcelain as his stomach rumbled and rolled; he held his breath, desperately trying to push back the waves of nausea as he honestly didn’t think he had anything left in his system to purge. And he was so not a fan of dry heaving.

Fuck, he thought he was over this part of the pregnancy; he’d just been getting his appetite back around Christmas and now this.

Rubbing his face against his arm, he took a deep breath, hoping the neutral air was working its magic against the foul scent coming from downstairs. And when all he could detect was the faint smell of herbs, he sighed with relief and slowly lifted his head. He was so going to kill whoever was down in the kitchen.

Licking his lips, he stood, his legs still shaky due to his earlier vomiting, and walked slowly over to the sink. He quickly rinsed his mouth out and brushed his teeth before taking a long drink of water. Setting the glass aside, he walked out of the bathroom, stumbled over to his bed and flopped onto it, inadvertently disturbing a still snoring Brian.

Asshole; he would sleep through that.

Feeling a bit peevish due to his husband’s lack of support while he spent the morning puking his guts out, Justin jabbed him in the side and then shoved him over onto his stomach. He briefly considered pushing him out of the bed as well, but realized he didn’t have the strength and he’d just have to deal with irritated Brian on top of the rest of it, and he didn’t want to deal with it.

Brian snorted and stirred, and then groaned as he rubbed his face in the sheets.

“Oh God, why?” he lamented, his voice taking on a Michael-esque whine that raised Justin’s hackles further as he knew just why his husband was bitching and he felt no sympathy for him.

Justin just snorted, glaring when Brian managed to pry one eye open and stare hazily in his direction.

“Don’t tell me you’re sick too,” he muttered, wincing and closing his eye when someone opened the curtains to let the sunlight in.

A someone that, judging by the soft, floral scent, was his mother. Oh, goody.

“At least I have a reason to be sick,” Justin groused, burying his face in the pillow as another wave of nausea washed over him. Seriously, who the fuck was cooking that vile stuff in his kitchen. “Unlike someone else who thought it would be a bright idea to challenge Drew to a drinking contest. Tell me, how did that turn out for you?”

Brian just groaned in answer.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Justin said a bit petulantly. Yeah, he was acting a bit immature and vindictive; but since he was the one carrying their kid, he was justified in being a bit put out that his idiot husband was too hungover to help.

“How are you feeling honey?” His mother asked as she set a mug on the bedside table, then ran her free hand over his hair. Justin’s nose twitched as the scent of peppermint filled the air.

“I thought this was supposed to be over by now,” Justin grumbled, thoroughly put out that he was still having bouts of morning sickness.

“Sorry to tell you, sweetheart,” his mother chuckled, skirting the bed to set a set a second mug on the bedside table near Brian; likely his first dose of coffee. “But there are no hard and fast rules to this. Some people may never have morning sickness, while others have it for the entire time they are pregnant.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Justin whined, (yes, whined; deal with it), slowly sitting up in bed so he could grab his tea. “You’ve likely jinxed me.”

“Drama princess,” Brian muttered, grunting when Justin shoved him with his foot.

“Fuck you,” he sniped, pausing only to take a sip of tea and sighing with pleasure as the peppermint worked its magic. “At least I didn’t do this to myself; it’s not my fault that Sunbeam hates the smell of bacon. I wasn’t the one to drink himself into a stupor unlike some idiots who can’t seem to say no to something anyone with half a brain would’ve realized was a stupid move. I hope you enjoyed it because you’ll get no sympathy from me.”

“None of that; fucking you is what got you into this predicament in the first place,” Brian snickered, sitting up against the headboard as he sipped his coffee.

“Really?” Justin arched a brow, scowling when Brian smirked unrepentantly. “Out of everything I just said; that’s what you chose to focus on?”

“I can’t help it, Sunshine,” Brian sniggered, just barely dodging Justin’s hand as he reached to swat him on the arm. “You say the world fuck and my brain tends to short out.”

“And on that note, I’m leaving,” his mother snorted, and Justin flushed, realizing that he’d forgotten she was there. Whoops.

Justin settled in, sipping his tea and hoping for a few peaceful minutes to himself before trying to get out of bed to track down whoever was cooking bacon in his house. He didn’t even think they had bacon, as Brian didn’t eat it, and Justin had stopped buying it once the morning sickness set in.

But as his mother exited, Emmett bounced in, far too chipper for anyone’s good considering it was the first of the year and they’d all been at the party to end parties. What the fuck? When had his bedroom become Grand Fucking Central?

“Good morning everyone,” Em chirped, still wearing the ‘Eat My Meat’ apron that someone, likely the person in question actually, had gifted Justin years ago. “I see that we’re doing much better than Drew.”

“Fuck off, Honeycutt,” Brian glowered at Em over his coffee. “I don’t want that name mentioned to me for the rest of the day.”

“Don’t call me Honeycutt!” Em scowled, picking at some non-existent bit of fluff only he could see. “Grouch; you’re just as much of a bear as he is this morning.” And then Em smiled and walked over to Justin, fluffing his pillows and coddling him until Brian growled in annoyance. “How are you feeling today, Baby?”

“Like ass,” Justin muttered, still sipping on his tea. “And ready to kill whoever made bacon this morning.”

“What’s wrong with bacon, sweetie?” Em asked, looking a bit concerned

“Sunbeam doesn’t like it,” Brian explained, chuckling when Justin whimpered; he glared at his husband’s lack of sympathy, (yeah, yeah, double standards, but at least he was pregnant, not hungover), and pouted.

“Oh…uh, be right back,” Em squeaked and then headed swiftly out the bedroom door; Justin watched him leave, a suspicious glare on his face. He had a feeling he’d just found his culprit. Lucky for Em, he happened to like him far too much to kill him. Yet.

“Ten bucks on Aunty Em was the culprit,” Brian said, watching a disgruntled Justin with an amused smirk.

“Sucker bet,” Justin muttered; he swallowed down the rest of his tea as hurried footsteps made there way back to their bedroom.

“So, just out of curiosity,” Em said as he popped his head back in. “How does Sunbeam feel about eggs?”

Justin just groaned and buried his face into his hands; Brian laughed and batted away a pillow that went flying his way.

“Right,” Em nodded slowly; he chewed on his lower lip as he considered something and then heaved a sigh. “What does Sunbeam like?”

“If it has enough sugar to give an elephant hypoglycemia, you can guarantee it will be a hit.” Brian snickered, dodging yet another pillow.

“That’s not true,” Justin hissed, lying through his teeth; he did not need that information to get back to his mother and Deb. They’d get all worried about his eating habits again and he’d never get them to leave.

“Twinkies, Sunshine,” Brian said, a bland look on his face. “Need I remind you of the Twinkies smeared in raspberry preserves, drizzled in chocolate sauce and smothered in whipped cream? And don’t even get me started on the marshmallow fluff…for breakfast no less.”

“Fuck you,” Justin hissed, pouting when Brian flashed him an unrepentant grin.

“I told you, none of that,” Brian said, shaking a mocking finger in his face. “That’s what got you into this predicament in the first place.”

“Please,” Justin snorted, leaning back against the headboard. “If I denied you access to my ass, you’d shrivel up and die of sexual frustration in the matter of days, if not hours.”

“Right,” Em drawled again, looking between the two of them hesitantly before pasting on a stiff smile. “How about a batch of hot, sticky buns?”

“Already had those last night,” Brian quipped, tongue in cheek, laughing when Justin squawked, and then tackled him, knocking him flat on his back and began pummeling him with his pillow.

“That sounds wonderful, Em,” Justin huffed out between hits. “Now, if you don’t mind, I suggest leaving while I smother my husband; plausible deniability.”

Em just laughed, and spun on his heel, knowing he wasn’t needed for what would happen next; and it wasn’t violence much to Justin’s chagrin. He quirked a grin and shot back over his shoulder, “I’ll just give you two a moment. Although, try not to do too much damage, Baby; we all know you’d miss the sex.”