Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but that asshole Encke just pushed and pushed and they ended up fucking in the locker room showers, just like in basic before Encke decided he was too good to slum around fucking gypsy trash any more. Cain never should have let him, should have punched him in the fucking mouth instead of letting himself be kissed, but it had been too long and Encke had always been a good fuck.
Cain pressed at his belly, frowning into the mirror. No more vodka, no more cigarettes, no more picking fights. It’d been fine until his flight suit stopped zipping up, and now Abel was getting suspicious about why he’d stopped sleeping naked and wouldn’t fuck anymore. He’d told Abel the morning sickness was just hangovers, but Abel was smart enough to notice he didn’t drink any more and that excuse was starting to wear thin with it happening every single damn day and every time they got out of the Reliant.
“Cain? Are you alright?” Abel called softly, knocking on the bathroom door.
“I’m fine, leave me alone,” Cain said, pulling his jacket on. Abel poked his head in the door with a worried look on his face just as Cain was trying to sweep the pregnancy test off the counter and into the trash. “Fuck, Abel, what happened to privacy around here?” he snapped, trying to hide the little test behind his back.
“What is this?” Abel demanded, coming in to try to get the test out of Cain’s hand. “Are you alright? Did you finally go to medical?”
Cain let him have it then. Abel would find out sooner or later, too hard to hide it in this goddamn tiny room even if he could hide it from command and Encke for another couple months.
Abel stared at the test, turning it back and forth in the light to see the lines clearer. One line for negative, two lines for positive, Cain had gotten it explained to him in medical when he’d shown up and asked for one for his navigator and almost punched the smug medic in the face. Fucking assholes had probably already started to spread it around that Abel was knocked up, no such fucking thing as confidentiality when there was good gossip to hand around, and pretty soon Cain wouldn’t be able to show his face any more when he started getting fat and Abel stayed skinny.
Cain held his breath waiting for Abel to finally just say something.
“We’re pregnant?” Abel asked, his face lighting up.
“We—“ Cain cut himself off. How the fuck was he supposed to tell Abel it wasn’t his? Abel pressed a hand to his belly, chewing his lip thoughtfully.
It could have been Abel’s, they’d only done it once, but it had been around the right time. If it was Abel’s, then it wouldn’t be quite so bad, he wouldn’t have to explain to Abel why he’d gotten fucked by someone else. At least it sure as fuck wasn’t Deimos’, that kid would have no chance with the two of them to fuck it up.
“Yeah,” Cain said finally. “We’re pregnant.”
“Have you been to medical yet? You should get vitamins or something, put in for a leave of absence.”
Cain pulled away from him then, going out to throw himself down on the mattress in the bedroom. “You’re not getting rid of me,” he snapped at Abel, wishing for his smokes. It was going to be a long couple of months.
“I don’t want to get rid of you, but it won’t be safe for you to fly, with, you know.” Abel sat down next to him, putting his head on Cain’s shoulder and a hand on his belly.
If it was Abel’s, it wouldn’t be so bad, his fingers warm through the shirt. “Have you thought about names?” Abel asked, snuggling in closer, and Cain put an arm around him. If he couldn’t smoke, he could still fuck Abel. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” If he could just get Abel to shut his goddamn mouth for long enough to fuck, that was.
Abel smiled up at him, a small favor in this huge fucking mess, and Cain forgot what he’d been pissed about.