A/N: So, this is my first time writing Bucky/Tony. I've written Steve/Bucky/Tony before, but never just the two of them so it's been interesting figuring out the dynamics of their relationship. Welp, hope it comes out as funny as I intended. Poor oblivious Bucky.

Disclaimer: written as an avengerkink fill, so the general plot is someone else's idea...but I decided on all the wacky ideas Tony would find on the internet. It's amazing all the different ways people announce a pregnancy and I grabbed as many ideas as I could.

The first morning Tony threw up, he was quick to attribute it to food poisoning from Clint's terrible attempt at lasagna the night before. But when he was still throwing up two days later, he reluctantly admitted that he was sick.

But that didn't mean he was going to stop working. Nope, he didn't have time for that shit. It was just a minor stomach flu. He could just power through and he would be fine.

Too bad Bucky didn't agree with him. And because his mate could really be a bastard sometimes, he just had to tell Steve he wasn't feeling well. Steve had immediately gone into mother hen mode, trying to convince him to take a nap on the couch, insisting on checking his temperature every few hours, and making worried comments about taking him to the doctor if he wasn't any better after a few days. It was fucking annoying. It was like Steve had forgotten illness was usually nothing more than a minor inconvenience for a few days and not something fatal.

He was not that sick, thank you very much. Yes, throwing up every morning sucked. But he felt fine for the most part. Okay, so maybe he had to work down in the lab with a bowl on his desk because sometimes the smell of Bruce's curry made him nauseous again. And maybe he wasn't leaving the house because the scent of car exhaust made him vomit, too. But really, he was doing just fine. Steve needed to back off and just let him work.

On the fifth day of his illness, Bucky came down to the lab with a bowl of chicken noodle soup Steve had made. And suddenly even the smell of soup was too much. Tony gripped the edge of his barf bowl and just retched while Bucky stroked his back and murmured soothingly to him.

"I'm sorry," Bucky said after Tony finished heaving. He dumped the chicken soup into the disposal bin. "I'll tell Steve you're not up for any food right now."

"Don't you dare," Tony said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "He'll want me fucking bedridden or something."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "He's just making sure you're taking care of yourself. Someone has to."

"You should take care of me," Tony said petulantly. "You're my mate."

"I am taking care of you." Bucky nuzzled into his neck. "If you promise to take it easy for the rest of the day, I'll tell Steve you ate every bite. Deal?"

Tony sighed heavily. "Okay, okay. I guess I'll let you blackmail me this once." He pushed his chair back from the desk. "As long as you come up with something to keep me entertained the rest of the day."

A mischievous look flitted across Bucky's face and then he schooled his face into a neutral expression. "Oh, that shouldn't be too hard," he said. "Maybe we can get Clint, Nat, and Loki to play a couple games of poker."

"Hell no. Loki cheats."

Bucky shrugged. "Well, I'm sure we'll think of something," he said. He put his arm around Tony's shoulder and carefully led him over to the stairs.

Tony had been reluctant to leave the lab, but he didn't mind crashing on the couch for a few hours watching movies with Bucky and Clint. Steve had walked in while they were watching The Wolf of Wall Street and immediately backed out with a look of horror on his face. And they had all dissolved into giggles. So, maybe the day hadn't been totally wasted.

After dinner, he was still in a good enough mood to let Bucky carry him up to bed and crawl in beside him. He refused to go to sleep earlier than midnight. Being in bed before ten was bad enough. But at least there was plenty of cuddling and making out and heavy petting before Bucky remembered he was sick and shouldn't be exerting himself.

Excuses, excuses. He was lucky Tony was letting him get away with it.

He woke up early the next morning and after another round of vomiting, made his way down to the lab.

Bucky showed up three hours later, looking irritated. "Tony, what the hell are you doing?"

"Getting things done," Tony said, as if it should be obvious. "I did it your way yesterday and it didn't help. So back to work."

Bucky sighed. "I really hate when you do this kind of thing." He waved a paper in the air. "I've got orders from SHIELD. Sam and I are going to be gone for a week hunting this tiny Hydra base somewhere up in the hills. And I know you're not going to look after yourself while I'm gone."

"Are you really going to go off and leave your poor mate all alone in this condition?" Tony said, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

"Maybe if you tried taking it easy for a few days, you'd actually get better," Bucky said with an eyebrow waggle. "What a concept."

"Shut up," Tony growled. "You mock my pain."

"Always," Bucky said affectionately. He kissed Tony's forehead. "Seriously, babe. Try and take it easy while I'm gone. Get some sleep, drink plenty of fluids, and all that good stuff."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm not that sick, okay?"

"I still want you taking care of yourself. Don't make me sic Steve on you," Bucky threatened.

Tony flipped him off. "Just go. I'll be fine."

"That's what I like to hear." Bucky leaned in for another quick kiss. "You get better for me so when I get back I don't have to worry about you anymore."

Tony offered him a sloppy salute. Bucky was going to be gone for at least a week. Of course he was going to be healthy again when he came back.

But a few days into Bucky's mission, he was still waking up nauseous.

Okay, so maybe he was a little sicker than he had thought.

But he wasn't going to tell Steve that. Steve didn't see him throwing up every morning and since he was hiding in the workshop most of the day, Steve didn't know that he usually threw up a few times in the afternoons, too. For all Steve knew, Tony was actually getting better.

If only it were true. Tony was really tired of this illness nonsense.

He was a superhero, for fuck's sake. He had been stabbed, punched, shot, and nearly drowned more times than he could count. And he had always bounced back from his injuries without a lot of fuss. He hadn't even had to see a doctor more than once or twice. Which made this stupid lingering flu all the more embarrassing.

"This is getting ridiculous," Tony muttered as he paced the bedroom, rubbing his stomach. "Is it really possible for someone to have the flu for two weeks straight?"

"Doubtful, Sir," Jarvis said. "I believe the condition you are experiencing is called pregnancy."

Tony froze. "No," he said. "No way."

He rushed into the bathroom and began pawing through the medicine cabinet for the pack of pregnancy tests Thor had forced him to buy for Darcy because she had been freaking out about a little weight gain. She turned out not to be pregnant, but the good thing was that there were leftover tests.

"You do recall your last heat cycle, don't you, Sir?"

As if he could ever forget it. It had been one of the strongest heats he had ever gone through. He had been working in the lab when the heat cramps hit him like a sledgehammer and all he could do was crumple in the corner and try to breathe until Bucky had come flying down the stairs with a wild, feral look in his eyes. And it had felt so good to be taken right on the floor, over a lab table, against a wall, and in the elevator when Jarvis had finally gotten through to them that they would be more comfortable riding out the heat cycle in a bed.

And things had gotten even better in bed. Bucky had wrung orgasm after orgasm out of him, kissing, biting, licking, and sucking on every bit of skin he could find. Until Tony couldn't think anymore. Until all he could do was gaze into those glassy brown eyes, listen to that beautiful husky voice calling him his, and feel Bucky's cock throbbing deep inside him. It had really been magical.

In between bouts of sex, they devoured granola bars Steve had left outside the door. For once, Steve's meddling had been appropriate. Because they were both far too gone to even think about cooking anything.

Everyone said there was no correlation between the intensity of a heat and fertility, but really, if he was to get pregnant, it would have to be during the most explosive sex of his life. Because it just had to work that way.

Tony sucked in a breath as the two little blue lines showed up on all three of the pregnancy tests. If there was ever an time to freak out and vomit, it was now. But he felt strangely calm. Thinking about the baby growing inside just gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Girl, boy, alpha, omega. It didn't matter. The important thing was that it would be his and Bucky's baby. Something wonderful they had created together.

"Sir?" Jarvis prodded. "Are you going to be alright?"

Tony shook himself. "Yeah, I'm fine. Actually, no, I'm fantastic." His face split into a grin."I'm going to be a mother, Jarvis. Can you believe it?"

"I believe it, Sir."

Tony beamed. "Ooh, I can't wait to tell Bucky."

But he couldn't just tell him. That would be boring. He needed to break the news with some kind of planned announcement. Something cute and funny that would make Bucky laugh about how silly he was. And then rush home and embrace him and tell him how excited he was that they were going to be parents.

That was the plan anyway.

But he needed brain food to come up with an idea. Aha, food. That was it. Everyone always did cute things with food.

He hurried down to the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time.

Natasha was sitting at the counter, humming to herself as she browsed through one of her new recipe books. She looked up in startled surprise as he walked in. "Tony?

Tony breezed past her and started rummaging through the pantry. There had to be a jar of Prego sauce in there somewhere.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he said. "Don't worry about it."

"If you tell me what you're looking for, I can help you find it so you won't need to demolish our-"

"No need. I found it." Tony positioned the jar in front of his stomach and snapped a picture. "There," he said triumphantly. He texted the picture to Bucky.

"Uh-oh," Natasha said. "When people start photographing Prego jars it only means one thing."

"It's not an uh-oh," Tony said indignantly. "It's a beautiful miracle of life."

Natasha's expression softened. "Of course it is. I was referring to the cheesy pregnancy announcement."

"Oh, come on," Tony said. "I'm only going to be able to do this once. Might as well have fun with it. And you know Bucky has a pretty good sense of humor. He'll get a kick out of it."

Natasha's eyes narrowed. "This is how you're telling Bucky?" She shook her head. "I can't even begin to-"

Tony's phone buzzed and he glanced down at it. Bucky had texted back, "Mmm, Italian. Glad you're feeling better."

"Fuck," Tony said. "Bucky didn't get it."

"Good," Natasha said. "Now you can find something more creative. Everyone does the Prego jar."

Tony huffed. Something more creative, she said. Well, he was going to fucking show her. He was going to come up with the most fucking creative pregnancy announcement there ever was.