Otayuri Oneshots

Another Shirt

Upon finding out that he was pregnant, Yuri had been thrilled. Upon discovering the less-than-fun side-effects of said condition, Yuri's enthusiasm had continued going strong. Now, at the tail-fucking-end of his pregnancy, less than two weeks away from his due date, Yuri's maternity shirt won't fit, and he's less than pleased.

Or: A cute, fluffy drabble I wrote too quickly and love too much about the characters I may or may not be willing to devote my life to. :)
(Written for an exchange!)

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For Lazy_Panda13.

The requested tags used were: Otabek Altin/Pregnant Yuri Plisetsky (YoI), Alpha/Omega, Animals LOVE pregnant character/pregnant belly, Feeling Baby Kicks, Baby bump is BIG.

I hope you enjoy!

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Yuri huffed, staring into the mirror, as if, if there were enough determination in his glare, the problem would resolve itself. Of course, this problem was far from new to Yuri, and its very familiarity was partially why it was so infuriating for him to deal with now.

For the last year and a half, after he and Otabek had agreed (rather passionately) that they wanted a baby, they'd been trying for one. For the nine months following that, they'd quite enjoyed themselves in the effort of procreating. And, nine months ago, they'd gotten lucky.

Yuri would remember the day they found out for the rest of his life; he'd been sick for two weeks, and, with all the signs there, both he and Otabek had been a mix of excited and terrified to actually take the test and receive official results. Yuri had been nauseous when he'd finally peed on the stick (a trend that had largely led to said peeing on the stick), and had actually thrown up when it showed a tiny, perfectly pink plus sign two minutes later. By the time all the vomit was out of the way, tears were shed, celebratory sex was had, and a rather strange meal (the first of many) was indulged in. To this day, Yuri swore that leeks were the most heavenly of foods, and Otabek unfailingly remarked that leeks with mustard was nothing short of Satanic. It came out to the same thing, in the end.

That had been a day of nauseating, blinding euphoria, and, a little over eight months later, Yuri was still as delighted as he initially had been that he and Otabek were having a baby. (Two babies, specifically, as of Yuri's 12-week sonogram.) And, through it all: the morning sickness, the insane cravings, the insaner food aversions (when Yuri had found out that yoghurt made him sick, he had been less than pleased), the backaches, sore feet, and the frequent appearance of a soul-crushing exhaustion that he did not appreciate, Yuri had remained happy with being pregnant. But now, barely two weeks from his due date and big as a fucking house with near-full term twins, Yuri's optimistic enthusiasm was running out.

Which led him to glaring daggers at his reflection, staring at the thin, black and white striped t-shirt that refused to settle over his swollen stomach as it was supposed to. Yuri huffed, staring into the mirror, as if, with enough defiance, the garment could be forced into submission.

Another tug.

The shirt reached just over the arch of his abdomen, and then rolled back up when he let it go, the fabric stretched tight.

With a muffled cry of frustration, Yuri threw up his hands. He didn't want to go back to that fucking store, goddammit-- he'd already spent a fortune there in maternity clothes, and he was so close to giving birth. If he bought new clothes because he'd fucking outgrown the old ones and then had his water break all over his shoes the next day, he'd be fucking pissed.

"Yura?"

Yuri growled, giving one final, fruitless tug on the fabric of the useless t-shirt. What the fuck?