Work Text:
“Alright, let’s go again, 1-2-3 and-” He was thankful he’d managed to find a chair before the next rehearsal, as he wasn’t sure he would be standing still if they hadn’t. Being pregnant was a hard thing when you needed air in your lungs to do your job and compete in some of the toughest competitions in the world, but being pregnant with triplets while competing in said competitions and somehow not passing out?
Yeah, Rowan Davies was lucky that he even had the ability to sing at all at this point. He was also quite lucky that he happened to be the lead for their college’s acapella group, known as The Gingersnaps and didn’t have to rehearse completely, as he was managing everyone else more than himself lately, given the whole expecting thing.
The pregnancy had thrown everyone’s plans into a loop as it wasn’t sure that Rowan was going to stay lead, but he’d battled through everything - morning sickness, the flu, back pain, swollen feet, tailoring for costumes - he was literally not letting anything stop him as the comps mattered.
They left a legacy and Aca-Alma-Mater was the most important on the acapella competition calendar, as the winners would go onto the world stage. There had been protest from numerous lecturers in the beginning, as by the time Aca-Alma-Mater came around again, Rowan would be due to give birth to the babies and couldn’t travel on a plane to the state it was being held in.
However, Rowan discarded all of it. He was dedicated, he was determined. The Gingersnaps were going to Aca-Alma-Mater with him, no matter what. He’d spent nearly his entire college life, all 5 years of it, to his degree and to his team. He wasn’t going to let a bump in the road, literally, get in his way. Thankfully, they relented.
Back in the present, the group of 15 members (16 including himself) were inside one of the rooms just slightly lower down from the stage so they could practice for the qualifying rounds ahead and Rowan, holding onto the back of his chair, was directing them, pulling them up and giving feedback on their current style.
“Tony, next key up, please. Ollie, try to move your body with the music like everyone else is, Ethan, straighten the shoulders, it’ll open your diaphragm more so the notes sound clearer, let’s be professional everyone.”
At least he was having an easier time keeping his team together than walking. When he’d first gotten to the venue, he about wanted to die as there were so many stairs, but he managed. He’d hoped he would miss some of the other groups that were competing so they wouldn’t gawk at him, but walked (or rather waddled) right into most of them as they milled around the hallways of the place. It was an international competition and Rowan knew many of the leaders, but he hadn't seen most of them since almost a year ago when the last Aca-Alma-Mater comp was on. Meaning that most of the teams, save for his own, were not exactly aware that The Gingersnaps' fearless leader had become…well, a Budda.
That also meant that the guy who caused this thanks to Rowan being drunk and stupid would also find out and it didn’t take long for the latter to spot someone’s eyes on him, following his every move. He didn’t have to look up from where his cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red to know it was the leader of The YellowJackets, Issac “Issy” Amalfitano, whose face was a mask of complete thunderstruck shock as their team passed by.
Christ, Rowan hated that he remembered everything. He literally went out for a drink or two, to blow off some steam from the disappointment of The Snaps coming in 6th in last year’s comp and Issy had been there. Their team had come in 3rd, so they were lucky fucks and when they had gotten together, he had said so. Issy had just laughed and said it was because the University of Rochester had money to blow. It became a little more blurry after that.
Now, now, however, the damage from that night and subsequent rushed morning of waking up, packing, carpooling and flights out with an awkward goodbye and forgetting to share info had left its mark, Rowan’s belly a hive of activity that was visible only when he was still, which he was most of the time as it took pressure off his back.
They’d had their share of whispers and pointing and gawking, as he had been warned, but like he already retired, nothing was going to stop him from leading his college to victory and a bigger stage. Bigger stage meant bigger prize money, which also meant bigger exposure. Georgetown University was already pretty well known, but it still would help. The prize money would also help a lot with expenses, as it was divided 16 ways and everyone had their share of needs. From food to rent to tuition to whatever else, the whole group had a stake in what was offered to win and that helped fuel their rehearsals that Rowan led as best he could in his condition.
They would get higher than 6th place this year, that was for damn sure. He was just finishing up a speech on how important this competition is and how proud he was to see everyone working well so far, when he was rudely interrupted by a very irritating and familiar voice. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Georgetown Jerks!”
“Ugh.” Rowan had to voice, turning to cast a side eye to the open door. “Fredrickson. I shouldn’t be surprised that the MadHatters managed to get in at the last minute.”
“Managed to get in on wild card again, for the 4th year in a row might I add.” Omer Fredrickson, the most obnoxious leader out of all the groups computing, smirked. It wasn’t something to really be proud of, but Rowan refrained from saying anything as he walked up to him, his eyes roaming him before poking his belly without permission. “Someone’s been laying into the sweets since the last comp. Actually taking the form of your group’s name now, Davies? Bit on the nose don’t you think?”
Rowan wanted to break his fingers given it woke one of the babies up and sent the others into a flurry of panicked movement, making him feel ill. He wasn’t going to give into the urge however, he needed to remain professional despite what others may say of them. “Actually, I just happen to find myself on the tail end of a very unexpected pregnancy, Fredrickson. Which you’ve obviously failed to notice given your ego is in the way of your ability to see things.”
He couldn’t help but smile as Omar frowned at the polite insult and some of his group snickered in the background. “Huh. Well, pregnant or not Davies, you have your work cut out this year. Couldn’t exactly get more disappointing than 6th, could you? Thought you would go a little higher at least given you’ve been top 5 for the past few years. What’s the plan this year? Aiming for 7 or 8?”
Rowan bristled and pursed his lips, huffing as he felt a cramp move though him, like the babies were also mad. “We don’t discuss each other's group routines, Fredrickson. It’s against the official Aca-Alma-Mater rulebook.”
“Pfft, whatever princess.” Omar started to gloat, pissing Rowan off even more. “You aren’t going to win anyway, so it’s fine to keep your secrets.”
He was about to say something, possibly before he ripped Omar’s nose piercing out, when a voice talked for him. “Are you quite done making your presence known, Omar?”
Rowan stammered a little as he realized that the voice belonged to Issy, who had poked his head in to see what the fuss was about. At 6 foot 5 and built like a bronzed god, he was rather intimidating and thankfully seemed to knock Omar off his podium a bit as he stuttered before he shrugged. “No man, just saying hello to the competition. You know how it goes.”
“Yeah, well, it’s pre-rehearsal time. We all need to be with our groups. Leave The Snaps alone will ya? I’m pretty sure you and the MadHatters have some training to do, you can leave the pleasantries till after the results of the comp.”
“Sure, sure, don’t worry, I’m going. Just wanted to tell Davies over here congratulations on the new addition.” He aimed a snarky grin at Roawn, who rolled his eyes. “Enjoy your time here, Davies, it’s only limited after all.” That was all he said before he stalked out past Issy and disappeared to find his own crowd.
Meanwhile, it left Rowan embarrassed as Issy turned his attention back to him, staring him down as he leaned on his chair. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” The latter groaned, bracing his back. He could see Issy swallow as he watched the persistent moving of his stomach through his buttoned shirt. “I can usually handle Omar, he just gets worse and worse every year to deal with. It’s a wonder the MadHatters haven’t turfed him out of their group just yet.”
“Amen to that.” Issy just looked him up and down, hesitating before he spoke again. “Listen, I know you need to get back to your rehearsal, but I just wanted to ask if you are going to be free before the finals round to talk in private?”
Rowan nervously searched for an answer in his head, his personal timekeeper, before he managed to squeak out an answer. “Yeah, of course. Depending on the results, we should be having a break before the finale. Is everything okay? He knew clearly what Issy wanted to talk about, but he had to play it off in front of his group. Thankfully, Issy got it immediately. “Yeah, no, I just wanted to talk about some techniques I saw you guys were using. Figured I could get some advice from you on how to wrangle in the YellowJackets. We had some of the guys graduate and some new come in.”
“New pledges are always the hardest.” Rowan chuckled nodding to himself despite the slight fear in his eyes. “We can do that man. Just come and grab me before final tally.”
“Awesome, good luck to you Rowan.” He smiled a little and Rowan’s heart couldn’t help but flutter as the babies did from seeing it again, despite the circumstances befalling the both of them in that moment. “Yeah, to you as well Issac.”
He tried not to look at the door again as he turned back to his group, the soft click of it closing taking his mind way out of bounds. He needed to get his head back into the game.
Sooner rather than later.
So, preliminary groups had gone rather well, if Rowan had any say over it all. The Gingersnaps had managed to get through the heats spectacularly well despite the stuff going on behind the scenes. It seemed the extra rehearsal had helped immensely as it was now the last final of the day and it was between of course, them and the MadHatters.
Rowan was already dreading having to share the stage with Omar after that morning debacle, but he tried not to let it get to him as he put his suit jacket back on, breathing through another cramp that assaulted him hard as he did it. That had also been an annoyance all afternoon, his overfull bump of babies protesting at his inability to sit down and causing pain similar to a knife carving line in his back to become more present than normal. It had been bothering him these last couple of weeks and given he was 36 weeks with 3 rather healthy babies, practically full term, it wasn’t surprising.
In the last day or so, it had become unbearable and he’d resulted to taking a lot of aspirin just to make it through the day before he could collapse. He just didn’t have the time to be in so much pain, he really didn’t. So, loading himself up with another doze from his trusty bottle of pills that he kept in his belongings, he kept up with everyone as they fixed themselves up for the last of the proceedings before the final tally. That also meant it was nearing closer to the talk he was going to have with Issy. Christ, he was bricking himself at the thought. What was he even going to say? What if Issy never wanted to see him again?
There were just too many emotions thrown into this scenario, babies or no babies. Hopefully, between now and then, he’d figure his words out.
Settling onto the stage and starting to rearrange his members into his preferred sequence for the last of their practised songs, he almost missed Omar as he and the MadHatters gathered on the other side of the stage. However, he didn’t miss Omar’s loud exclamation in his direction. “Hey Davies, don’t be putting all those Hispanic guys of yours together. We wouldn’t want a mariachi band emerging in the middle of one of your pieces!”
Rowan saw red. It was rare to get him mad, but when you did, you could see it coming and he froze, hands in midair as he slowly turned towards the other. He was about to haul his heavily pregnant body across the room and cause an incident, when his group did it for him, that being one of his members fronted and stepped down from his place. There was a trade-off of words that Rowan doesn’t exactly remember given it happened so fast, but before he knows it, he’s pushed out of the way and onto his ass as his group and Omar’s group start having it out with eachother the stage, punches being thrown several ways from both parties as they got into it.
Backing away on his bottom, Rowan barely manages to get himself up with the assistance of an adjudicator that is entering the fray to sort it out, when his body shudders like it’s been tazed and his suit pants stain dark with liquid, arm clutching the bump almost collapsing again into the puddle beneath him as he starts to panic.
“Fuck, fuck, not now, Jesus Christ-” He can only mutter out of shock before his belly cramps again and he’s doubling over, staggering as he tries not to fall to his knees. He doesn’t know how, but someone who is not involved in the fight is suddenly at his side, holding him up as he groans and whines, eyes sealed shut as tears leak out.
Somehow, he finds the strength to breathe his way into some sense of not panic, but not calm either and wedges open his eyes to find, who else, but fucking Issy Amalfitano practically holding him up with all he’s got. Just how he’d noticed Roawn in all the chaos was yet to be determined, but he was grateful. “Issac, I need, we need to-”
“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry-” Issy’s clearly terrified, but he’s still there, which is helpful. “I got someone from The Spokes to call for an ambulance. We’;re going to need one with that mess just as much as one for you. So much for that talk, huh?”
“We-gah, we can talk now. If that’s better.” ‘Oh yes-’ his brain supplied. ‘Let's talk to the really hot guy we fucked with no strings attached last year as we’re about to drop his 3 kids in the middle of a fight. Great idea, Rowan. Genius.’ It wasn’t a great idea, but still. Issy meanwhile, raises surprised eyebrows at him, but suddenly blurts out without warning and possibly, thought “It’s mine isn’t it?”
Rowan, despite his pain, can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “All three of them are, unless I’m fucking magic when it comes to absorbing sperm that I don’t touch.” He can see out of the corner of his eye the moment the ‘3’ part hits Issy and it sends him stumbling, along with Roawn who yelps, snapping him back out of it. “3 babies? Rowan, what the actual fuck?!”
“Yeah, kinda shocked myself with that on- oh, motherfucker.” He teetered over again as the squeezing feeling come back more intensely this time, body fighting the urge to get these babies to leave it. He felt a hand close over the one on the peak of the bump and just latched onto it as another dug into his back, trying to relieve the ache. “Ughhhh…”
When he came back, he opened his eyes and looked directly at Issy. “I didn’t have a way to contact you exactly. I debated calling the university, but they most likely had a number of students with the name Issac. I figured it was futile.”
“Rowan, I’m the leader of The YellowJackets, the /leader/.” Issy emphasised, shaking his head in disbelief. “You could have called the university and asked to be transferred to the YellowJackets facilitator. They could have put you through to me.”
“I didn’t even realize, fuck I’m so stupid.” Roawn panted, but clearly, it was a mistake he couldn’t take back now, as he had far more pressing matters. Like the constant persistent urge to bear down that had been itching to be fulfilled in the last few minutes. He’d just started labor however, he couldn't even think to push now, could he? There was also no ambulance, no medical equipment, no doctor and a brawl happening - this was not a good situation.
Seemed Issy had taken lay of the land as well and was attempting to move Rowan away from the chaos as well, ushering him into stage left where the only thing of note was a couple of chairs and an old piano, which Roawn took up as a handhold while his body protested him even remotely shuffling out of a still position. Seemed some things never changed.
“Ugh!” A particularly fierce pain suddenly came out of nowhere as Issy was checking out if the fight had been broken up yet and sent him to his knees, barely able to be caught before he was crashing, sitting up with his legs spread and a piano leg holding up his back as his body desperately attempted to push without him, shaking. “I ca-can’t-, ca-n’t, Issy-”
“Christ-” Issy, having been attempting to get him back on his feet, watched as Rowan’s rapidly contracting stomach squeezed down again, starting to pop buttons from the force as he cried out loudly, making Issy suddenly clamp a hand over his mouth till it was over. After taking his head away, Rowan was panting, looking at him desperately. “Help, I don’t, oh god, help, help me, fuuuuuu-”
Rowan threw his head back as the contraction came back worse, his body making him tuck his chin to his chest and bear down without much care, blood starting to soak into his white socks from where it was dripping from his bits and down his legs. Soon enough, Rowan let out a strangled cry, reaching down and feeling something starting to press tightly against his suit trousers and becoming tighter the longer he left it, the feeling of burning accompanying like a lit match between his legs. “Something-something-ow, fuck, ow, ow ow-”
Issy, well and truly freaking out, attempted to help by trying his best to remove Roawn’s pants to see what was going on. However, Rowan’s stomach was so big, it had covered where the pants buttoned as well as where his belt buckle sat, causing Issy to fish for both of them. Meanwhile, Rowan was crying out as his tux pants strained against whatever was attempting to leave him, most likely a head, the round shape of it cupped in his hand as it struggled to be born, unable to get anywhere fast thanks to the barrier holding it in him.
His body cried out to be rid of it, but all it did was push down before it had no choice but to retract, leaving Rowan sobbing and in pain as Issy scrabbled to help him. The cycle lasts for 3 more rounds of Rowan wailing in pain and Issy trying his best to help before he’s able to rip the belt buckle clean off, it flying across the room along with the button and zip that made up the crotch of Rowan’s pants before Rowan’s pushing him away and pulling them down to expose the bloody scene of a head trying to crown in a pool of blood and fluid, the skin around the skin purple from being no able to be born.
Free to be able to do so now, Rowan wastes no more time and heaves around his giant belly, the head easily sliding out into a full crown, a pop coming as it does and leaving Rowan staring at the ceiling, already worn out. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t-”
“Yes you can.” Issy reaches down and re-grabs his hand, kissing his knuckles despite them and him being covered in sweat. “You’ve gotten this far. There’s 3 little bambini in there waiting to meet their Dad after literally forever. They’re waiting on you.”
Rowan looked at Issy pleadingly, but it seemed to do the trick as he gathered himself up for another round of pushing. 10 minutes later, with a loud yell, the first of what was to be a set of babies finally left him, the carpet soaking up the backlog of fluid behind it as it wails, limbs failing everywhere as it tires to register what’s just happened to it.
Issy quickly strips off his yellow jacket (literally, it’s the trademark of the team) to wrap the little one up warmly and hands it over to Roawn who coddles it with an overwhelmed expression on his face that dissolves back into pain. Letting out a string of curses, it isn’t long before the second baby is crowning, seemingly easier than the last.
This one gets Rowan’s jacket when its frail little body finally emerges and is curled up next to its sibling as Roawn attempts to breathe and get his heart rate back down before he passes out, both babies cradled in his arms as the last makes it’s final decent.
Moaning, he closes his eyes in a vain attempt to rest, but Issy sadly has no choice but to shake him awake so the last baby can come out. It happens quickly and finally, it’s over and despite it being absolute pandemonium outside these walls, it’s surprisingly calm int his side room right now as both he and Issy look over these 3 little lives that just changed theirs.
The three babies, all girls (ov vey!), are content to sleep peacefully after being calmed and they doze against Rowan’s still-heaving chest as he and Issy look at each other in what can only be described as disbelief. Eventually, though, they snap back to reality when several adjudicators rush through, a couple with injuries, only to find…well, /them/. The ambulance is right behind them, however, so it’s okay that Rowan’s completely pantless at this point because it’s just part of the process.
It also turns out, much later once Rowan is cleaned up and so are the new arrivals, that The Gingersnaps are automatically put in 1st place of the competition due to the MadHatters inciting unnecessary violence, the whole thing having been caught on tape. It takes him so off guard that he practically sobs in Issy’s arms, but no one makes fun of him for it.
And if next year, him and Issy show up at Aca-Alma-Mater with 3 toddlers decked out in YellowJacket gear, well, Issy twisted his arm.
They would have looked better in Gingersnap merch, just saying.