m_findlow

Title: Bursting at the seams
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Tosh, Jack
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG. Contains m-preg.
Notes: Written for Challenge 176 - Water at anythingdrabble
Summary: Ianto has some frustrating side effects from being pregnant.

Ianto tested the hole in the sock with his finger before deciding if it was for the bin. Jack's socks always had holes, but this one would probably survive a few more wears, he concluded. He rolled it up with another and set them in the basket before something else drew his attention.

'Oh, sodding hell,' he cursed, feeling the sofa beneath him grow warm and wet. Not again, he thought. He rested a hand on his large belly and looked down at it. 'They say it's bad parenting to chastise your children when they don't know any better,' he said to the swollen mass. 'I guess now would be a bad start to things if I blame you for this.'

Still, his unborn children were largely to blame. For the most part, the last five months of his pregnancy had actually been a relatively happy time. Jack liked to tease him and put it down to hormones, but there was more to it than that. He was genuinely excited at the idea of raising a family, and bringing children into the world was becoming less and less daunting, and the idea of a man being pregnant becoming something erring on the side of normal. Of course, rationalising it was the only way to cope, but all in all he was faring much better than Jack, who was both fretful and paranoid, about Ianto's health and that of the babies. Thus why he was parked on the sofa doing nothing more than folding laundry. Jack had deemed that safe, so long as he kept the basket on the sofa next to him and didn't try to bend down to reach it.

Well, now he was not only going to have to get up but also bend as he went to fetch paper towel from the kitchen to start dabbing at the wet stain. He wasn't sure how women managed, but three infants pressing on his bladder was turning into an indignity he could do without. He was happy for Jez to monitor him and give advice, but Ianto hadn't mentioned to anyone about the lack of control he was having with his bladder. Incontinence didn't need a diagnosis and, for now, couldn't be treated. And no way was he going to ask Jack to pop down the shops for some ladies products to spare his blushes. He'd ordered those online and had them delivered when Jack wasn't home. Only today he'd forgotten to use any, thinking he was safe at home on the sofa.

He bent over and dabbed at the sofa, before feeling more wet sensation running down his leg. He growled and cursed again for not using the bathroom first. Then his stomach cramped painfully and the awful realisation dawned on him. His water had broken. Oh hell.

He grabbed his keys and hastily made for his car. There wasn't time to call Jack who'd only panic. He just needed to get himself to the hub, and fast.