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Early morning nausea is the worst, especially when you’re a basketball star whose fame is increasing rapidly and have next to no time to worry about one thing: yourself. So, when Aomine pulls himself from bed one morning in order to rush to the bathroom, collapsing beside the toilet and emptying the contents of his stomach, he knew he was fucked.
A few minutes later he returns to the bedroom where his disheveled and extremely confused boyfriend is sitting upright, blinking away his dreams. Aomine crawls back into bed with a groan, arm draping over his eyes as to block out the minimal light seeping through the curtain. All he wants is to return to sleep and for the knots in his stomach to loosen or diminish altogether.
Kise flops back over, head resting against Aomine’s shoulder as he attempts to tangle their legs back together. When he’s finally content with their positioning, he settles back down and attempts to hum himself to sleep. Something Aomine normally falls asleep to himself currently irks him, so he presses the palm of his hand to Kise’s face in order to push him off. Kise backs away, sputtering, and pouting like a petulant child that just got denied all of Christmas.
“What’s wrong, Daiki?” Kise finally asks after fully waking up and lying beside his now grumpy boyfriend.
Aomine shrugs, unsure himself why he feels like such shit. He draws his arm from his face and sighs, turning his head to glance at Kise. As always, there’s Kise… Despite having just woken up, and with his hair a complete mess, he still looks perfect. A beautiful little bundle of sunshine ready to burst, because a single being is too small to contain such an abundance of light and energy and happiness.
Everything seems to be setting him off now.
Another groan passes Aomine’s lips as he rolls onto his side, unable to face Kise any longer. His stomach is churning again, and it’s the least comfortable thing he’s experienced since he ate a bowl of incredibly spicy ramen as a dare (because in this day and age who backs down from a dare, especially when your idiot best friend is egging you on). He remains still, eyes closed until he feels Kise’s weight pressing into his side. His boyfriend’s slender fingers trail under the hem of his shirt and rub tender circles into his stomach, a flurry of satisfied grunts rumble to life in Aomine’s throat as it helps settle the knots.
Couvade syndrome, otherwise known as sympathy pregnancy, is when a male whose partner – or in this case lifelong best friend – is expecting a baby and experiences many of the pregnancy-related symptoms the expecting mother does.
When Aomine first walked into Momoi’s new home, congratulatory present in hand (picked out and bagged by Kise, himself), he nearly dropped and shattered the china set Kise had insisted on buying as a housewarming present. The small bump that was most definitely evident beneath her relatively baggy t-shirt from their Touou days caused Aomine to stop and stare. His mouth hung open and the words flew right out, but no sound accompanied; a mixture of facial expressions ranging from a furrow of his brows to absolute bewilderment gave life to his features, though.
The days that followed after the news were full of stress, anxiety, and depression… All experienced by none other than Aomine. One day he’d be sitting on the edge of the couch, hands gripping at his hair, the next he’d be laying across the floor with a scowl on his face, heart racing for some unknown reason. It was all so strange; he had no idea what was going on. It wasn’t like he was mad at Momoi or her husband for giving her a child… He couldn’t seem to put his finger on it.
That was… Until the nausea started, followed by the cramping, aches and pains, and the sudden appetite change. He had begun craving the strangest things, to which Kise would laugh about until he noticed how serious Aomine was being.
After all the aches and cravings came the weight gain, and finally… The bloating. His basketball career was going to be in shambles if his body kept this up any longer.
“Dai-chan, you’re not even the father,” Momoi scolds him by swatting him upside the head as he sprawls out on her couch complaining about how anything and everything hurts. His hands are swollen, and there’s a lump the size of a basketball forming beneath his shirt which he had taken to mindlessly rubbing. Momoi stands there, shaking her head with her arms crossed over her chest (though, it’s proven a tad bit difficult given how enlarged her breasts have gotten and how big her stomach has grown the past few months).
“I think I’m pregnant,” Aomine blurts out in the middle of Momoi sighing about how her feet ache and all she wants to do is sit down.
A snort sounds from Kise who has Aomine’s head in his lap, running his fingers through navy locks in order to calm his over-reactive boyfriend. Aomine peeks through his lashes up at the blond, biting back a smirk as he sees the way Kise’s trying to hold in his laughter.
“You’re not pregnant, Daiki. Just bloated,” Kise hums in a teasing voice.
Momoi’s standing over them, cussing Aomine out about being a terrible best friend, and Aomine reaches up to pinch her lips together, shushing her in the process. His opposite hand continues rubbing circles over his stomach, and after he releases his hold on Momoi, he mutters, “Don’t stress me out. You’ll upset the baby.”
It’s with that, that Momoi goes off some more and Aomine lays there laughing, leaning into Kise’s touch before stating, “You’re never topping after this again, Kise. Once was enough, and look what happened.”
“Yeah, because this is all my fault,” Kise finally chimes in, biting the inside of his cheek as Momoi’s face twists up in a scowl that could mirror one of Aomine’s. She throws her hands in the air before turning on her heel and waddling off, hand pressed to the small of her back as she complains about the “shitty, free-loading friends she has that will never understand a woman’s back-breaking pain.”