A story about the evolution of love. (a Frerard MPreg)
Once again, the Galactic Peace Federation thanks Lieutenant Frank Iero or his heroic deeds following the battle against Verdetan forces, ending with General K'Hin's surrender at 12:13, Galactic Standard Time. Iero's platoon is being honored by President Graham on March 14th. Iero is also noted for having... Article Continued on Page A4
In the distance, the hiss of an air lock broke the fragile silence in Lieutenant Frank Iero's apartment, and he groaned at the fact that company was fast approaching. He straightened his tie and stood up from the unkempt desk, hand curled around a stately looking piece of Manila paper.
There were three rapt knocks, "Lieutenant? Y-You're needed on deck, sir."
He sighed again, "One second, Miller, I'll be there soon enough."
There was a sound of shuffling, and then boots on tile walking away from the door. He didn't mean to scare the boy away, but this ship was under his jurisdiction, and he was to report when and where he pleased. His gaze found the paper in his hands, and he looked it over again, a feeling of guilt sweeping over him. They claimed he had simply won the lottery, the fact he was a recent war hero having nothing to do with his selection. He still felt as if he cheated the system, though part of him felt that this was only the beginning of the praise he deserved. Despite his lengthy letters and humble refusals, the GFCF was not going to let him back out of a rare and thrilling opportunity. He carefully folded the letter and placed it in his pocket, before brushing off his uniform and walking out the door.
Standing across the hall was a mousy man with watery blue eyes and a rather bad case of acne. He beamed up at Frank, grabbing his free hand and shaking it vigorously, "So nice to finally meet you, Lieutenant. I'm George Corrigan, with Galactic Fertility Contr-"
Frank cut him off with a small, forceful grunt, pulling his hand out of his sweaty grasp, "I know why you're here, and honestly, I could give two shits who you are."
George's face fell with disappointment, but he quickly covered it up with a cheesy smile, "It's quite alright, sir. It's just an honor to meet you, read everything about you in the papers."
Frank ignored him and began walking towards the control deck, hoping he could get this done and over with quickly. He could hear George trotting quickly behind him, huffing as Frank only walked faster, "Any ideas on what you'd like today, sir?" he called, trying desperately to make conversation.
"Yes," Frank replied, not bothering to turn around, "A large glass of whiskey."
Stepping into the control deck, an eerie silence fell over the crew, who quickly averted their gaze to the many monitors and machines posed around the octagonal room. Standing in the center, in front of a huge bay window, stood 7 superb female specimens, each of them thin, flawless and luxuriously curved. On their left shoulders stood a small "C" with three stars in the middle, the marking tattoo of Cicero Laboratories. So his mate was going to be perfect, both in appearance and genetics. He gave them a quick passing glance, and marched over to his Captain, a look of disdain on his face.
"Is this all of them, Dewees?"
The man shrugged, his eyes locked on a freckled blonde, "Suppose, sir, they told me there'd be 8 though."
Frank walked back to the girls, who were now giggling and shifting, trying to show off their more favorable parts. He sighed and stood in front of a tall black girl, who smiled and tossed back her plaited hair, practically pushing her breasts into Frank's hand. He lowered his eyes, ready to blow up at the mousy man standing in the doorway. From a hallway leading to the dock, however, there was a sound of struggling, and a loud voice shouting commands. Frank lifted his head towards the door, motioning for one of the crew to open it and allow whoever was on the other side through.
Soon, two men in grey uniforms were dragging a struggling naked man into the room, one of them keeping a plasma gun firm against his temple.
"Sorry Lieutenant," one of the uniformed men grunted, "Found this one hiding on the transport ship."
They pushed the naked man into the middle with the girls, who looked scared and disgusted. He was long and thin, with a well-toned torso and exceptional skin. He had the same dangerous beauty as the women, but his was sharper, the curves replaced by jarring angles. Frank looked intrigued and watched the man survey his surroundings with rage. He walked over to the man, whose pale cheeks were rosy with exertion, his heaving chest marked with Cicero's brand. Frank smiled, examining the boy as if he were a rare and dangerous creature. The man looked up, seething.
"What's your name boy?"
At this, the sound of frantic footsteps met Frank's ears. George was at his side in an instant, "Ah, yes sir. A fine choice! This is specimen 2-567G, one of only 20 males Cicero has produced successfully."
Frank turned to stare at George's flushed and beaming face, before growling, "You will answer questions when I address them to you, understand?"
The man nodded quickly, shrinking back into the shadows of the control deck. Frank turned back to the man, who was now looking down at the ground, his hands clasped over his front, "I asked you, what is your name?"
The man looked up, his green eyes burning, "Gerard."
Frank smirked, bringing up a hand and curling a finger under Gerard's chin, pulling the boy's face closer.
"And tell me Gerard, do I scare you?"
Gerard snorted, and spat out a defiant, "No."
The crew gasped, but one glare from Frank and they found themselves working furiously. He turned to George, who was picking at his fingernails and looking nervous, "I want this one, have him cleaned and in my cabin in no more than an hour."
George nodded quickly, ushering in the uniformed guards, who grabbed Gerard by the shoulders and marched him out of the room, the girls sulking behind them. Dewees went over to Frank, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You sure about this one?"
Frank couldn't help but to smile, "Positive."
Frank paced in front of his door, nerveless fingers smoothing down a simple white shirt. They were late. He did not like to be kept waiting, especially when he had given specific orders concerning his new mate. As he fumed however, there was a knock at the door, and it swung open revealing Gerard, who was dressed in skin-tight grey pants and a blue shirt embossed with the Cicero logo. His dark hair was wet and pulled back behind his head, revealing his pale baby face. He didn't look as rebellious or bold as he had on the control deck, rather terrified and nauseous. Frank beckoned him inside, closing the door with a hiss behind him.
"Sit there, and don't speak."
Gerard nodded and did as he was told, shifting nervously on a chair, watching Frank with a trained eye. Frank, however, lit up a cigarette and offered one to the shaking boy in front of him.
Gerard simply shook his head, "No thank you, trying to quit, sir."
Frank put his cigarette box away, blowing a plume of smoke from his nose, "First off, I'm your husband now, you're to address me as Frank."
The man blushed deeply, muttering "Yes, si-. Frank."
Frank turned away from Gerard, still puffing thoughtfully on his cigarette, "Secondly, you are to now a part of this ship, which means you have a job to do. And as my husband, you'll be in charge of caring for me and my quarters."
Gerard nodded, trying to take everything in.
Frank stubbed out his cigarette, the smell of smoke still lingering in the air, "And finally, you are to pleasure me when I wish, and I will do the same for you in return."
At this Gerard paled and looked up, "I-In return? But I'm here to..."
"Produce my children, yes, but I want something more than just a machine to make babies." Frank huffed, twitching fingers tucking themselves into his pockets, "I want more than just a mindless mate. I want a lover and a friend that will be beside me when I need them most."
Frank ended his speech by opening the pod window above his bed, staring out into the vast expanse of space. Gerard shifted on the bed again, clearing his throat, "Frank, can I ask you something?"
He nodded, going over to the intercom and whispering into it. Gerard cleared his throat again and continued, "Well, I heard about your victory on Verdeta, and how you forced the General to surrender, and I just... I want to know what's true and what's a rumor."
Frank turned, looking down at the boy on the bed, pale and shaking under the fluorescent lighting. "You'll know soon enough. But for now... lunch."
At that, a young scraggly redhead pushed in a cart laden with fruit and breads, laying them out on a low table on the opposite side of the room. Gerard watched him unload the food with hungry eyes. All they fed him at the lab was synthetic food, and occasionally, just kept him on a nutrient drip. Frank brought over a plate of grapes, laying them on Gerard's lap.
"Eat," he commanded, and Gerard quickly followed his instructions.
Frank watched the boy study his food and then daintily put it in his mouth and savor the moment. He soon ate the entire sprig of grapes, and looked longingly at the buffet set out in front of him. It had been so long, years, entire decades, since Gerard had eaten real food. He glanced over at Frank, head bowed in submission, before whispering, “Can I have more?”
Frank gave a simple nod and watched him stand with a steady eye, waiting for the opportune moment to ask his questions. It wasn’t until Gerard seemed distracted by picking out his food did Frank speak up. “Where are you from?”
Gerard stiffened and looked a little terrified, but tried to regain composure by staring at a platter of strawberries. “I’m from New York, originally. I was, ummm, created there?” he started.
He made a puzzled face and walked back to the armchair, plate nearly overloaded with food. As he was sitting down he continued, “I don’t remember much from when I was born. But I when I was 5 I was moved to a lab in London. I lived there until I was 17. That’s where I met Mikey,”
Frank looked intrigued and walked over to his small kitchen, digging around in a cabinet until he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “Who’s Mikey?”
Gerard gave a small smile, “He was my roommate while I was there, for almost 10 years. He was supposed to be some kind of super-immune soldier or something, but I just knew him as this nerdy little kid. He was kinda like a brother, you know?”
Frank only nodded and took a sip of his drink. He could tell the other man was becoming more at ease and was relieved his plan was working. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked after hearing the ice clinking around in his glass.
He didn’t give Gerard a chance to answer before he was up and walking back towards the kitchen. “Tell me more about Mikey,” he prompted.
“Well, he was younger than me, and had been some kind of ‘military endeavor’ against biological warfare,” Gerard explained, taking a bite out of some bread, “He had a super immune system or something like that. I never saw him get sick, or bruised. It was kind of weird thinking back. He was really cool though, and really supported my artistic side.”
Frank perked up a little at that and set the glass down in front of Gerard, “You’re an artist?”
“I guess,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders and blushing.
Frank rolled his eyes and felt himself relax even more. He felt like, maybe, this guy could bring out the good in him. He sat back down, ice rattling around in his glass. “Don’t be so modest,” he argued, “I bet you’re wonderful.”
The other man smiled at the compliment, but continued on with his story as if it never happened. “We did almost everything together when we were young. We had teachers and the doctors and stuff, but not a lot of kids lived there. And no one really seemed to mind that we were friends. But, when I hit puberty, Mikey couldn’t be my roommate anymore. I lived by myself for about a year, and when they decided I was old enough to have children I was shipped back to New York.”
“We were pen pals for the longest time but lately I can’t seem to get a hold of him,” he finishes with a sigh, “But, who knows, maybe he’s in the Army and I’ll see him again soon.”
Frank could only nod and downed the rest of his drink with a sigh. "Get undressed, I'll be right back."
Gerard blanched a little and tried his best to control his breathing. He was prepared for this moment, and it wouldn’t be his first time around, but the situation still seemed so daunting. He looked around desperately for something to distract Frank and felt the weight of the food in his grasp. He looked up at Frank meekly and bit his lip, staring hungrily at the plate in his hands, "But I'm still— "
Frank grabbed the collar of his shirt, jerking him forward, face turning crimson, "You will do exactly as you're told, understand?"
Gerard squeaked and hastily followed his instructions. Frank gave a satisfied grunt and began to undress himself, not caring as he threw his clothes behind him. He hated being so forceful, really, but he felt if he didn’t show his dominance the other man would try to run away, or wouldn’t take Frank seriously. And the last thing he needed was for his crew to think he couldn’t even keep his spouse in check.
Gerard lay naked on the couch, chest rising in choppy beats. Frank tried to put on a comforting smile, and walked over to a small metal box on the wall, punching in a code, a holding out his hand to receive a generous dollop of pink gel.
"You've done this before right?" Frank asked, figuring being brusque would be the best way to approach the situation.
Gerard nodded wordlessly, watching Frank run the pink gel up his already hardened length. He couldn't lie to him, not now, now that he was so close to freedom and a life outside the confines of a fertility lab. He'd only known fingers and machines, and if the doctors were feeling particularly confident, a group of balding, old men who jostled and prodded him like a doll.
"Just... if I need to stop, please say something. I can't risk you getting hurt."
He nodded again, closing his eyes and spreading his legs, just like he had been trained. Since he could remember, the doctors at the labs taught him how to receive, how to be submissive. People lucky enough to win a fertile mate from the lottery expected nothing less than a doting lover. And Gerard was very good at following instructions.
He gave a small, frightened squeal when he felt Frank entering him, hands scrambling to grip at the sheets. But he felt Frank's hand mold against his cheek, and his breath hot against his neck, "Open your eyes... I want to see your eyes."
He did as he was told, gasping softly as Frank brushed against something inside of him. Something he never felt in years of testing and exams. He saw Frank smiling down at him, hand moving from his cheek, down his chest, over his belly, and finally under his thigh, lifting his leg higher. Again, Frank moved and hit that spot head-on, making Gerard clench up and give out a throaty groan.
"That's it... just relax."
Gerard felt himself sinking into the mattress, which had suddenly become soft and cozy, and he let go of the sheets, trailing his hands up to Frank's hips. Frank moaned softly, burying himself deep inside his new-found lover, folding over him and breathing into the crook of his neck.
Gerard began to circle his hips, also something he was taught, and could feel Frank pulsing inside of him.
Frank moaned into the boy's neck, coming with a soft grunt, still pushing gently against him. Gerard looked up at him, eyes glazed with unimaginable pleasure. Frank smiled, craning his neck to stare at the gap between their bodies, "A-Aren't... did you come?"
Gerard shrugged, feeling his whole body quiver and pulse, "I don't think I can... I never really tried."
Without a word Frank thrust forward, striking against Gerard, who arched his back and gave an unrestrained moan as he came across his and Frank's stomachs. However, when he saw what he had done he became pale, and looked up at Frank for forgiveness, "I'm so sorry, I d-didn't mean..."
Frank only smiled, pulling out and leaning over Gerard, kissing him fully, "Don't. It’s okay, I’m not mad.”
They separated after that and Gerard instantly turned onto his side. He didn’t fall asleep until he was sure Frank was unconscious, but even then, it was one of the worst nights he’s ever had.
When Gerard woke up the next morning he had forgotten that he was somewhere new. Somewhere that had no sun, or day or night; and somewhere that was mostly metal and going at speeds he could not even fathom. So, when he opened his eyes and saw nothing but the dark, empty void of space, he wondered to himself if he had somehow just ended up in another cage. He stretched and tried to get comfortable again without disturbing the body next to him. He was still in daze over the fact he was now married and could only stare at Frank dumbfounded.
He moaned and wriggled around again, cringing a little when he felt his foot brush against the back of Frank’s leg. He was trying to avoid contact and just let Frank sleep, vaguely hoping he could sneak out of the bed without waking the other man. He shifted a little before sucking in a breath, and mustering all his will power, shuffled out of the bed. He looked back at his husband in a panic, but the other man didn’t move, much less noticed something had gone missing.
He explored the tiny bedroom first. It wasn’t very stately; the room itself was bare and drab, containing only a large bed and small vanities flanking either side. Everything was the same, cold steel; and the only color in the room was a bright orange stripe of paint containing evacuation instructions. He crept out of the bedroom, wincing a little at the loud hiss of the opening door. But Frank never stirred, and Gerard continued his exploration.
The ‘living space’ of the apartment was just as sterile. The only things on the walls were framed military medals, and a rather large viewscreen that took up almost an entire wall. There was one couch, beige and very stiff, and a black armchair. There wasn’t really a kitchen in the apartment, just water and caffeine dispensers, and Gerard could only assume he would be taking all of his meals in a mess hall. He found the control panel for the front room, and messed around with a list of codes until he managed to figure out how the whole thing worked. His favorite code so far opened a window that stretched up to the ceiling and it allowed him to look out at the vast expanse of space. At first it made him feel small and lonely, but he found some comfort in the flicker of the stars the longer he stared. He fumbled around a bit longer before he found the caffeine dispenser and quickly started on making himself a cup. As the solution was brewing, Gerard made his way over to Frank’s untidy desk. It was large and made of thick, rich cedar. He gaped a little at the sight of it. He hadn’t seen real wood, or even real wooden furniture, before. He had seen veneers, and had read a wood-working manual in the lab, but never actually got to see a real one it firsthand. He knew there were artisans and carpenters still scattered over Earth, but how Frank managed to acquire it out here was anyone’s guess.
He stepped up to the desk and the first thing he did was run his hands over the top. It was smoother than he expected, sliding under his fingers with a silky but definite touch. It smelled like something he’d never experienced before, something warm and heavy that reminded him of the stories he’d read as a child. He ran his hands to the edges, fingers carefully working over the skilled detail work, memorizing each nook and cranny. The wood here was rough and scratchy, not the polished plane like the top. It made him conjure images of old life; a time before information chips and downloadable content, when stories were put in tangible objects called ‘books’, and those books were kept in vast halls called ‘libraries’. Gerard imagined luxuriously low-lighting; the smells of parchment aging and ink drying; could hear the click of heels down the lined passageways.
“Find something interesting?”
Gerard felt his blood run cold and snapped into attention when he saw his husband in his periphery. But Frank gave him a warm smile and glided his way over. He wrapped his arms around Gerard’s middle, feeling the softness of the flesh beneath. Gerard blushed and tried to pry himself out of Frank’s grip. “I’ve never seen real wood before,” he admits, feeling his cheeks grow hotter.
Frank takes a hold of one of Gerard’s hands and guild it over a knot in the wood. “You told me last night you were an artist,” he breathed, now moving Gerard’s hand to a stack of paper, “Show me.”
Gerard nodded shakily and took a few sheets, also grabbing a pen as he went. He sat down at the desk, yelping a little when the chair whistled down at the sudden weight. He looked up at Frank, feeling himself become pale. “Umm, can you not watch me?” he asked, voice barely rising above a tremor.
He bent himself over the desk, partly to hide the paper, but also to hide himself. Frank gave him his word and went to the caffeine dispenser, making a cup for himself and setting one down in front of Gerard. The boy took it graciously, but quickly went back to his fevered sketching. Frank settled down in front of his viewscreen, soaking in the precious hour of free time he had before morning duties. He was still flipping through the selection screen when Gerard appeared at his side, paper clutched tightly in his hands. Frank looked at him expectantly, trying to put on an encouraging smile, “Lemme see,”
Gerard flashed him a nervous grin before handing the paper over. He sat down in the armchair, staring intently at the window until he heard Frank’s critique. But Frank was taken aback by what Gerard had done. It wasn’t a very complicated drawing; just Frank leaning back on his couch, a look of calm concentration on his face. It’s not much more than a sketch, the lines are thick and shaky and there isn’t a lot of definite shape. But he could see that true talent was there, and felt his chest swell with joy as he looked over the drawing.
“This is beautiful,” he said breathlessly.
Gerard’s smile becomes wider and he shifts closer to Frank, pride radiating off of him, “Thanks. I just hope my art doesn’t get in the way of…” he trailed off and gestured weakly between himself and Frank.
But Frank shook his head and set the drawing down on the floor. He stood up silently from the couch, and for a moment Gerard was terrified he had done something terrible that insulted Frank. But Frank was anything but aggressive. He held out a hand and reluctantly Gerard took ahold. He guided him up off the chair and into his chest, enjoying the warmth he found there. “So, it’s okay? I can do my art?” Gerard asked rather desperately.
But Frank just smiled wider and tightened his embrace, kissing the timid man’s cheek. “Do what you want,” he breathed, now lining kisses on his jaw, “You can't do anything wrong here."
At this, Gerard bit his lip, but smiled, knowing that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be as terrible as he had first thought.
The first three months of their relationship was nothing short of rocky. Frank spent the majority of his time on the bridge, flanked by his officers as he poured over notes on the Verdetan front. Gerard stayed inside the apartment, drawing and cleaning and occasionally zoning out in front of the viewscreen. He tried to visit with Frank as often as he could, but most of the time he felt like stupid and in the way, so he just decided to keep to himself. The men and women on the ship were very cordial with him, and he was particularly fond of the Captain, James Dewees. He was always telling jokes to Gerard, and never treated him like some dumb housewife.
They had not consummated their marriage since their first night together. Gerard was a little relieved at first. He didn’t think he was very good, and while yes, he now knew that sex could be amazing, it was still humiliating and kind of painful. He and Frank had talked about it and Frank was more than understanding on Gerard’s behalf. But still, he felt guilty that he had been sold off as some kind of brain-dead sex machine and was only providing the services of a mediocre maid.
It was Gerard’s 80th day aboard the ship and he found himself mindlessly washing and re-washing the large window in the living room. He was not sure what time it was and was starting to feel the dull ache of hunger, but when he turned around to intercom the kitchens he saw Frank standing in the doorway. He was silent and his expression was unreadable. There was a glint of mischief in his eye, and Gerard took a step back in an instant of panic. But when Frank saw him flinch he made a strangled noise and stumbled forward, “No!” he cried.
Gerard took another step back, “No what?” he asked, voice now very small.
“Don’t run away,” Frank pleaded, walking closer to Gerard at a very fast pace, “Please, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Gerard shuddered but sat down in the black armchair, eyes locked on Frank as he made his way over. He even opened his legs so Frank could settle between them, but was too afraid to speak. Frank brought a hand up to Gerard’s cheek, his touch delicate and tender as his fingers worked themselves into Gerard’s hair. The other male was confused by Frank’s sudden display of affection and gasped a little when he felt lips attach to his.
“I’m so sorry,” Frank breathed, pulling away and pushing Gerard’s hair out of his face.
Gerard could only nod and concentrated on controlling his breathing. “Sorry for what?”
Frank sighed and pulled away from the other man before leading the both of them to the couch. He went back to kissing Gerard, spitting out chunks of apologies as he went. “I’m sorry for ignoring you. You must be so bored here,” Frank said, playing with a chunk of Gerard’s hair.
Gerard shrugged and weakly indicated the window he had been cleaning, “I’m okay…”
But Frank shook his head and pushed him further down into the couch, kissing him fully. Gerard felt a little twinge of panic at the fact he may be required to undress very soon, but part of him felt excited. Part him wanted that to happen. As soon as the thought drifted out of his mind hands were tugging at the bottom of his shirt and he held up his arms so Frank could pull it off. Frank wasted no time in getting his own shirt off and soon enough they were both pressed together, skin against skin. They kissed quietly for what felt like hours, lingering in the peaceful silence. Finally, though, Frank pulled away and pushed a hand through Gerard’s hair. “I really am sorry,” he muttered, focusing on the ground, “I wasn’t really prepared for this, and I feel like I’ve neglected you because of that.”
Gerard tried to keep his face expressionless. Even though he was sure nothing he could have said would upset Frank, he was also afraid of telling his husband something he didn’t want to hear. Frank gave him a pleading look and Gerard grinned weakly, “You’re here now.”
Frank smiled a little, too, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Bedroom?” he asked, voice free of lust or dominance.
Gerard looked out the window at a cluster of stars and then down at his own bare chest. The kissing had him feeling excited, and there was something warm and pleasant building in his stomach. He stood from the couch and walked over to Frank, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist as he pressed against his back. Frank’s smile stretched even wider and he laced one of his hands with Gerard’s, kissing his wrist before opening the bedroom door.
When Gerard went to lay on the bed, he realized he didn’t feel anxious or afraid. In fact, the thought of being with Frank made him feel dizzy. He wasn’t sure if this was being in love but he certainly could get used to this feeling.
"Lieutenant, you have an incoming call from Earth."
Frank looked up from a pile of papers spread across a metal table, setting aside the latest battle plans as a large screen was lowered in front him.
"Incoming transmission in t-minus three seconds, sir."
Frank made a motion, and the crew simply stood up from their stations and exited the room, only Captain Dewees staying behind. The screen flickered for a moment, but soon Gerard's moon-face filled the screen.
Frank smiled, "Hello, Gee. How are you feeling today?"
Gerard huffed and blew a strand of hair from his face, leaning back from his own screen, allowing Frank to see the sparse, purple walls of the Birthing Hospital, where Gerard was holed up for the last few months of his pregnancy. Frank had spared no expense for his comfort; though found he had very little time to see him aside from screen calls.
"Fine, I guess. The doctors keep saying I'm doing well... y-you will be here when he's born, right?"
Frank bit his lip, and moved his hands to indicate the large stack of papers in front of him, "I dunno, General K'hin is on the move again, Verdeta has attacked a neighboring galaxy, breaking the peace treaty they formed with us."
Gerard sighed, running a hand over his swollen stomach, "I mean, I'm only 2 months away... I don't want you to miss the birth of your son."
Frank gave a frustrated groan, "I know, but the lives of millions, humans and galatics alike, are at stake here!"
Gerard sunk further into his pillows, face clouding, "I understand... I just miss you."
That struck a nerve in Frank, barely even a year ago Gerard had been brought into his life, and already, he could feel a powerful bound growing between them.
"I'll try, okay? I really will, but for now I-"
Frank was cut off by a loud a powerful blast, the sounds of sirens filling the heavily fortified ship. A stringy boy of 19 burst into the room, already armed in an anti-ballistics suit, "Sir, enemy fire at 5 o' clock!"
Gerard stared at the screen in a state of panic, but Frank gave him a comforting smile, "You will see me soon, I promise."
Frank sighed, kicking aside the melted metal hull of a Verdetan ship, hands deep in his pockets, "As much as I'm happy we've forced them to drop arms, I hate to see so many lives wasted."
A tall blonde man, Lieutenant Bryar, nodded somberly, "Yeah, but you know how the president is, he's not only going to honor our platoons, he's going to extend praise to Verdeta for their bravery."
Frank looked up at the violet sun, "Suppose this isn't the time to add insult to injury."
Bryar was about to respond, when the communicator in Frank's holster gave a shrill ring. He clicked it on, Dewees' face staring back at him, "You're needed back on the ship sir, incoming transmission and it's fairly urgent."
"Fuckin'... guess we'd better get back to the ship, eh?"
Bryar just laughed, clapping a hand on Frank's back as the walked back to the ground rover.
As they approached the ship, Frank noticed there was a small purple vessel with a red cross sitting in the dock. He radio'd to the control room, where a sentry informed him it was merchant stopping to get supplies and fuel. Frank asked him they'd checked his permits, but the sentry didn't reply, he just ended the communication with a fizzling click. Once on board his ship, Dewees was standing in the loading bay, hands clasped together, "Finally! C'mon!"
He shot off down the hallway, and Frank followed him, confusion etched on his face, "I want to see those permits, James! And this isn't the way to the communication room..."
Dewees turned his head, smiling, "I know, we're stopping by sick bay first."
Frank opened his mouth the argue, but was quickly shoved into an unoccupied room, becoming quickly upset about his orders being defied. But before he could get on the intercom and chew out his disloyal crew, a soft voice croaked behind him.
He turned slowly, eyes widening at the sight of his husband laying in the bed, attached to monitors and covered in a thin blue sheet. A pair of nurses, one human the other Gyorite, bustled around him. Frank rushed to the bed, nearly pulling the man out of it when he embraced him, "Wh-... What are you doing here? Why aren't you on Earth? You should be in the hospital!"
Gerard just smiled, taking Frank's hand in his. "I know, and I understand the risks, but I couldn't have you miss this."
He gave a pained gasp, and one of the nurses pushed a blue liquid into his IV. She smiled, pressing a orange-speckled hand to Gerard's stomach.
"He'll be ready any moment now."
Frank watched in a silent anticipation, feeling Gerard's hand snake around his own, squeezing softly with each passing contraction. Next to the bed, a small green monitor began to flash and beep, and Gerard gave out a lengthy groan. Silently, the nurses pushed his legs into stirrups, before going into another room to fetch, what Frank assumed, was the doctor. She was human, pale and pretty, pulling on gloves with a look of cool excitement. She sat down at the end of the bed, only her eyes peeking out over the sheet.
"Gerard, you know what to do... just do what feels natural." she ordered, her voice soft and steady.
He clenched down on Frank's hand, leaning forward and pushing. After only ten seconds, though, he fell back, breathing rapidly. Not knowing what else to do, Frank leaned forward, whispering softly in Gerard's ear, "Again, you have to try again."
Gerard gave a breathy laugh, bearing down again as he pushed, huffing along with the doctor's counts. He fell back again, another monitor giving a shrill ring.
One of the nurses, the Gyorite, perked up at this, looking over the reading, "Oxygen is below 80."
The doctor nodded, and began shouting commands, some to the nurses, the others to Gerard, while Frank just sat there, feeling clueless and in the way for the first time in almost 10 years. A nurse pressed a mask to Gerard's face, who was still pushing, and had now resorted to crying out to relieve some of the pain.
"Good! I can see his head!"
Frank tightened his grip on Gerard's hand, who was smiling weakly. With one more grunt, he sat forward, using the last of his strength to push. There was a few, sharp seconds of silence, before the sounds of an infant crying filled the tiny room. The doctor stood, holding a bundle of blue blankets in her arms, holding the newborn out towards Frank.
"We'll give you a few minutes alone, then we need to care for the both of them."
Frank took the precious bunch carefully, cradling it in the crook o his arms. The child was small, smaller than he had expected, and was every bit Frank's son. The only thing that kept him from being a carbon copy was the small button nose that the babe shared with Gerard. Frank rocked the baby slowly, who burbled and yawned, his hands curled into tiny fists that swung around in the cold, foreign air around it. Gerard shifted on the bed, holding out his arms, "I wanna see him."
Frank's voice cracked as he handed over the baby, their son. "He's beautiful, Gerard."
Gerard held their son tenderly, his ace glowing with pride, "He needs a name."
Frank pondered for a moment, his mind wracking through a litany of names. But Gerard spoke up first, "Michael... I want him to be named Michael."
Frank looked at the small boy, who was now sleeping in his mother's father's arms. The nurses came back in, pushing an incubator and smiling warmly, "Alright, you two, we need to have to cleaned up and checked over."
Gerard looked over at Frank, blowing him a kiss, "I'll be back in a little while."
And with that, the nurses pushed Gerard and Michael out, leaving Frank waiting in the silence. In the distance, an air lock door hissed open, and Frank decided he'd waited 25 years for this moment, another 10 minutes wouldn't hurt.
Author's Notes: Well, thanks for reading my story! Rating and Reviews are always welcome. And not to freak anyone but this is a re-write of another story, just a lot longer and far better written.