The ABO Serum

This is Too Much for 3 am

It was three eleven in the morning when Carey's bladder woke him up. He'd fallen asleep naked in his lover's arms. His lover. He had a lover. He'd had sex, and he liked it! He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. He didn't want to slip out of this warm embrace. He wanted it to last forever. But his bladder disagreed.

The awkward movements of his partner trying to escape the cocoon bed woke Daryl up, but he pretended to stay asleep. Carey stroked his hand gently along the naked length of Daryl's body from armpit to ankle before crawling out. Daryl didn't just love this man, he felt loved in return. It was like his soul glowed. Even without a secondary gender, it was enough. He'd found his mate. With the gene therapy...there was no way it wouldn't work for them. Enhancing this could only be a good thing. The only problem was how to explain it to Carey.

Standing on the pile of sheepskins looking across the expanse of cold marble tiles, Carey considered his options. The door they came in was a dark wood so he couldn't see it, but he knew its general direction. Unlike the downstairs, the windows in this room were uncovered with a view of the stars, so they provided a pale ghostly light that was enough to see a twinkly bead curtain where the closet should be if this McMansion followed the same floor plan as others in the neighborhood. Daryl hadn't had enough time to move walls, had he?

What he thought should be the bathroom doors were the swinging cafe type most people recognized from saloons in old western movies. That couldn't be right. Maybe there was a second closet in this model. To the right of the cafe doors was a Dutch door. It glowed in the dark which was curious but made sense since the bathroom door was the only one you'd need to find in the dark. Glow in the dark paint was a clever idea. A Pinterest kind of solution.

The door creaked as he opened it and he fumbled for the light-switch before he remembered this was a smart house. How was he going to turn on the lights without waking up Daryl?

"Computer, turn on the bathroom lights," Daryl said, beating Carey to the punch. But the light didn't go on in front of him. It went on in the room to the left with the cafe doors. So, this wasn't the bathroom, but what was it? It looked like the ghost of a crib was standing in the corner.

"Daryl? What room is this?" He asked.

Daryl groaned. Was he ready for this? Was he dooming his relationship right out of the gate? No, he couldn't believe that. Fate brought him into the middle of nowhere to find his mate, it wouldn't give him a mate who would run at the prospect of children. "Computer, turn on the nursery light," he called.

The light rose slowly, never getting too bright for this hour of the morning. But it was enough to reveal a nursery as extravagant as every other room in the house. It was wholly itself, a cocoon of softness with a big rocker recliner next to a round crib outfitted in a baby shade of the night sky blue of the master bedroom.

He couldn't deal with what this all meant on a full bladder so he beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. Thankfully, there was a real door to close off the toilet in its own tiny room inside the bathroom. He sat there longer than necessary considering what he just saw before screwing up his courage to go back out and face it.

When he finally emerged and went back to examine the nursery he found Daryl sitting in the recliner. He motioned for Carey to sit on his lap and Carey conceded that much.

"You weren't just tossing out a side random thought when we were having sex earlier," Carey accused. "This takes serious consideration. You really want to have a baby with a man?"

"No," Daryl turned Carey in his arms so he could look him in the eyes. "I want to have a baby with you. I've been working on homosexual reproduction for GenLife for ten years, but I never considered it for myself until I met you. You watched every item in this room arrive with your own eyes through the crack in your front curtain." He sighed and pulled Carey back into his arms. He wasn't running or fighting. Maybe they would be okay. "You don't have to have my baby. Maybe I fell in love and got excited all by myself. But I got drunk on hope and was reckless. Forgive me? Just, please don't leave."

"I promised I wouldn't go until we talked it out. I don't know what I feel about this yet." He looked around the dimly lit room and noticed the attention to detail. The tiny diapers on the changing table and the pacifier package sticking out of a camo pack styled diaper bag. It was sweet and showed how beautiful Daryl's heart was in a way words couldn't.

"To be honest, I panicked earlier after dinner when you got down on one knee. I thought you might be proposing. This is like next level shit beyond that, but I don't feel panicked. It feels nice in here. Like, some guys give roses or jewelry but you're holding out an impossible dream in a velvet box and I should say yes but I'm not sure I have the guts. Yesterday I thought I didn't like sex. I'll admit I was wrong about that, but I'm pretty sure you're not going to convince me I like pregnancy."

"I'm not sure about that," Daryl countered. "I've met a lot of pregnant women through the research process and even when they feel like crap they say things that make me a little envious. They're carrying life and it's a miracle produced by the love they share with someone important to them. I think I would want to carry your child if I could." Daryl's arms were wrapped tight around his love as they talked it out. This was a good way to be. To argue like this. It was a good sign of things to come.

He waited patiently for a response but gave up when he heard soft snores. Maybe this was too much for 3 o'clock in the morning.