Paint Me Blue [bxb; mpreg]

Chapter Sixteen

D. 8th

Reese hadn't thought anything was wrong with him at first.

After having hormone replacement and starting T, his period became irregular until it simply stopped.

But before starting senior year, he realized his body began acting up again and his period returned, sometimes just spotting but it meant one thing. His body was becoming used to the hormones and the T he was prescribed just wasn't enough to suppress that part of himself anymore. They've become sporadic but a constant reminder of what he is even if he hasn't stopped taking T.

He had decided to finish the little tubes of gel before asking to ump up the dosage.

Except, now he can't.

His heart is racing inside his chest, constricting tightly as he fights back the threatening nausea. His hands tremble as he picks up the little pink box of tests from the shelf.

He only has 10$ in his pocket, but it should be enough.

He's a ball of stress as he uses his allowance to pay for it, avoiding the look the cashier sends his way.

"That'll be $9.62," says the checkout boy.

Reese hands him the crumpled bill, his clammy hands taking the little bag that barely hides the bright pink.

"Your change is $0.38."

Reese takes the coins, nearly dropping them with how high-strung he feels.

It's even worse when the cashier gives him a sympathetic, "good luck, man."

•••

At home, he's too much of a mess to even open the box neatly. Two tests fall out and he stares at them with his heart in his throat. He reads and rereads the instructions torn in two when he realizes he needs to calm down.

Nothing's certain yet.

It could be a fluke.

He could be coming down with something, maybe the flu? Maybe the plague?

He swears he misses when he pees on the sticks, but caps them nonetheless and puts his timer on.

Two minutes have never felt longer in his life.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

His parents are so gonna kill him.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.

When the timer goes off, he chokes on air.

He can't control his shaking hands as he picks up the first test. He holds his breath and flips it over.

And his heart nearly stops.

He compares the results with the instructions on the box.

Two little pink lines.

Two little pink lines.

A shuddering breath escapes his lips.

Positive.

He feels like crying, like he can't think (his mind going numb).

He doesn't even need to see the second one to know what it says.