He had been a little small for six months – but he was rather large for four months.

Tsunade’s prediction had been exactly that, a prediction. She hadn’t dared to ask when the baby had been conceived. She hadn’t done a sonogram with there being no reason to so early in a pregnancy.

He was only four months pregnant...

...and had five months to go.

Why had he started showing so early? He’d begun to develop a bump at only two months.

Maybe he had just...gained too much weight. Maybe he had been over-eating. Yes, he was probably, definitely, over-eating.

He spent the next hour locked in his room, curled in bed, staring blankly at the wall. He wasn’t six months pregnant. He was only four.

Meaning he could have very well aborted – even a week ago – if he hadn’t been so fucking thoughtless.

His heart raced. Twinges of pain. Fluttering in his abdomen.

The thing inside of him had become so thoroughly entwined with his life. At that point, the prospect of abortion...it was-

There was a gentle knock on his bedroom door. “Sasuke, are you alright?” Naruto called for the second time.

Sasuke didn’t respond, just breathed.

- - -

Naruto frowned slightly. Sasuke was upset, and he didn’t know why. Perhaps he was coming on too strongly. Maybe Sasuke just needed some space. Naruto sat down in the kitchen and rubbed his temples.

...he wondered whether it had anything to do with that thing in Sasuke’s jacket.

Twice, he had felt something firm in Sasuke’s coat, as though he had something strapped to his abdomen. He could never quite determine what it was.

Some medical device?

Layers of thick bandages?

Naruto suspected it had something to do with Sasuke’s illness. He’d seen the brunette hold his stomach on countless occasions, sometimes looking nauseous, or uncomfortable, or just surprised or thoughtful. It had become a sort of habit, and with each time Sasuke did it, Naruto’s curiosity only heightened.

The next few days Sasuke mostly locked himself in his room, trying to adjust his diet, but consistently failing. When he neglected to eat, hunger pains shot through his abdomen. Gradually decreasing his meal size didn’t seem to help at all. Additionally, he had run out of his – vitamins – and morning sickness had returned at full force.

Once or twice he had feebly urged Naruto to leave, but the blonde had seen his sickness and his fatigue, and was not likely to budge. With a false, cheerful grin he had merely set up camp on his couch.

And Sasuke was developing a cursing problem.

He had good days. Days when he awoke with not a trace of morning sickness, and he could only relish in the temporary relief.

It had been one of those days.

He had entered the kitchen, and stared, stunned, at what Naruto was setting up on the table.

Sushi.

“C’mon Sasuke,” said Naruto, grinning excitedly as he gestured to the seat across from him.

The Uchiha blinked a few times. “I – I can’t,” he said woozily.

He was holding his jacket again.

Despite his confusion, Naruto’s smile persisted. “But teme, you love sushi,” he insisted. With a pair of chopsticks he retrieved a particularly flaccid piece, wiggling it tauntingly. “See, slimy, just like you.”

He watched Sasuke stare at him for a good three seconds, before covering his mouth and running into the bathroom.

Naruto blinked. Shit. He followed the Uchiha inside. “You could have mentioned you were nauseous.”

Sasuke was too busy puking to respond. After a moment, he took a few deep breaths, and managed, “I’m – always nauseous.” It was stated rather bitterly.

Naruto blinked. He had never seen the Uchiha so vulnerable and so miserable. He slowly knelt down beside him, wanting only to rub his back, pull his hands through his hair – anything to comfort him, but he knew that Sasuke would never let him.

He started retching again.

The next day Sasuke kept to his room...and didn’t leave. Naruto paced the apartment, feeling frustrated as morning turned into afternoon.

“You have to eat something!” he called through the Uchiha’s bedroom door.

No response.

“S-Sasuke?”

Still nothing.

Dammit, the boy acted like it was his fault that he was sick. So, Sasuke couldn’t handle sushi. How the hell could have known that?

But why the sudden bouts of nausea? It was almost as though his condition was worsening. He needed treatment! He needed-!

Naruto closed his eyes and silently cursed himself.

Shit. He had forgotten to give Sasuke the meds Tsunade had sent. The blonde ran to his backpack and hurriedly rummaged for the various colorful containers. He sighed, and piled them in his arms, returning to Sasuke’s door and lightly tapping it with his foot.

“Okay Sasuke, this time I have something that’ll actually make you feel better,” Naruto said proudly, and bristled when he was left ignored. “Seriously Sasuke, open up!” Nothing. “Dammit, I have your fucking meds!”

Following a brief moment of silence, he heard a rustling from behind the door, and sighed. When it opened he met Sasuke...in his jacket...faint lines beneath the Uchiha’s eyes. The brunette glanced at the containers in his arms, before taking one and looking it over. After a moment, he stepped aside. “Just drop them on the bed,” he muttered.

Naruto promptly complied. It was his fault that Sasuke was sick, and the Uchiha was too weak to glare, or curse, let alone assault him.

Naruto was relatively disappointed. He truly deserved it.

After dropping off Sasuke’s rather steep pile of medication, he began to exit the room, but lingered in the doorframe. “Do you want to talk?”

Sasuke wasn’t even looking at him. “No,” he muttered, shaking his head.

But over the next few days, he began to come out of his room a little more frequently. His spirits were higher, and Naruto could tell, just by the pleasure with which he muttered, “Dobe.”

Naruto could only smile. Sometimes he just wanted to kiss him.

- - -

Sasuke closed and locked his door one evening, much to Naruto’s dismay. The idiot would have much preferred if Sasuke spent the night on the couch with him.

Sasuke felt himself smirk slightly and didn’t know why.

But his jacket – his wonderful, amazing, gigantic gray jacket, was becoming...uncomfortable. And as much as he hated admitting it, he was getting bigger.

He rather disliked Naruto’s constant presence. The company was...passable...but he hated the fact that he had to conceal himself in his own home. He had to hide in his room most of the time, where he didn’t have to wear a sweltering jacket, and where he could idly scratch the side of his stomach, watching it poke out of his increasingly tightening wardrobe.

He hadn’t wanted to get fat. He really hadn’t wanted to get fat.

Then again, he hadn’t wanted to get pregnant. He still didn’t want to be pregnant, and had the occasional lapse of denial, in which he tried to convince the gods that men surely couldn’t have babies.

He hadn’t considered the possibility of the bulge getting...bulbous, but he was only five months along, and it was definitely embracing every opportunity it got to torment him.

For once, he had no control.

No control of his mind. No control of his body. He couldn’t simply tell his paunch to stop growing, because it was fine as it was. He looked pregnant, he really did! Couldn’t he just be left alone until he was forced to wallow in the woes of parenthood?

Parenthood. He shuddered.

For a while, his jacket had been a shelter. He could easily hide himself in its wonderful mass, and pretend he hadn’t been thoroughly screwed – in all meanings of the term.

But judging by the way it was tightening around his girth, even that would soon fail him. It wasn’t fair – it wasn’t! If he lost his jacket, Sasuke doubted that anything would be able to hide his growing belly.

Smooth, round, taut. It had become mostly circular. Pale. Intrusive. Depressing. Frustrating.

He felt always weak, tired. He could do little more than eat, sleep, and grow.

...he was growing a lot. Five months, and he could easily pass for six. He would grow, and grow, until his condition was no longer concealable, until he was stuck toting around an enormous belly. And then what? A drooling baby?

He glanced down at himself.

Perhaps a fat drooling baby.

Why had he gained so much weight? Why couldn’t he handle a simple diet? Dammit, dammit, dammit.

The next morning he grudgingly ate breakfast with Naruto, mostly picking from his plate, and slowly noticing something.

His food portions were larger - possibly twice the size of the blonde’s.

Why was he being over-fed? “Why do I have more than you, dobe?” Sasuke asked, feigning disinterest.

He was anything but calm.

Did Naruto know? Had he planned all this? Was he on some bizarre mission to fatten him!? Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek, his heart racing and fists clenching around his chopsticks.

The blonde blinked. “Tsunade said she wants you to keep your weight up,” he mentioned simply. And he understood what the woman meant. He had seen Sasuke’s thin arms. He had watched the Uchiha vomit day and night. Naruto tucked a bit of eggs into his mouth. “I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed...” he muttered thoughtfully.

Sasuke didn’t respond, but absently stared down at the front of his jacket. “My weight...is fine,” he mentioned carefully.

Naruto tilted his head. “What?” he questioned, eying him.

Sasuke looked back up, meeting blue eyes. “This is too much,” he snapped bluntly.

The blonde bristled. “Fine. Then leave it. And try cooking your own meals for once.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

But Sasuke didn’t start cooking his own meals. Naruto had free board, however long it would be, and decided that he had to contribute something.

He took to cooking meals that would probably suffice four people – way too much for two skinny fifteen-year-old boys. Naruto ate his single serving, and left the rest on the stove, just to play with Sasuke’s self-consciousness, his claim of his alleged “weight gain.” It was a tragic waste of food, but Naruto decided that he had paid for the groceries, so he could do whatever-the-hell he wanted with them, before slipping outside for a few hours of training. He was just rather surprised to return home and find the food was gone, and that Sasuke was curled on the couch fast asleep while hugging his jacket-clad tummy.

Rather astonished (and amused), Naruto tried it again the next day, managing to produce the same results.

By the end of the week, he woke Sasuke, gently kissing his ear to murmur a new nickname.

“Fatass.”

-

Sorry, I live in EST, so it's 5AM and I was sleeping. I usually update once I beat the review count for the previous chapter, so maybe you'll have another new one by tonight or tomorrow.