primordial

by kittyclawart

Summary:

That does sound like Ryusui, Stanley begrudgingly thought, placing a hand on his cocked hip. He looked them both up and down, white coats buttoned neatly, hair slicked and free of flyaways. Suika’s brown eyes were almost pleading, the tinge of excitement barely hidden in her expression. Xeno’s expression was one of smugness, shifting the container in his arms as he caught the soldier’s eye.

“Can you do it, Stan?” Xeno asked, bracketed smile pushing the apples of his cheeks up. He already knew the answer. The saliva in Stanley’s mouth choked him as he swallowed thickly, wedging in his esophagus.

“I can.”

Notes:

Ova Bad - Sexyy Red

 

The black snouted pig was pushing against Suika’s lithe hand as she attempted to pet it, the cool metal railing glinting in the clinical laboratory lighting. Xeno had called him to the laboratory, which was not an unusual request, given that more often than not the soldier should drive them both home to their shared condo in the city. What was unusual, is that he had asked Stanley to enter the laboratory, specifically the biological division for ‘help’ with an experiment. 

 

All these scientists and I’m still roped into these scientific experiments, Stanley muttered in his head, watching the blonde girl retreat after patting the sow between her upright ears. The small white banded pig was in a tight enclosure, metal grating beneath its hooves almost spotless despite the presence of the swine traipsing across it. It seemed to be monitored somehow, its ears heavy with tags and the monitors attached to the wall beside the pen displaying various medical jargon and charts. There were dates listed on one of the monitors, one displaying a birthdate and the other having the abbreviation SM with a date only a couple days from today. 

 

Xeno himself was across the laboratory, the white mask on his face obscuring his concentrated expression. Suika had joined the white haired scientist, quickly donning gloves as the man’s metal claws pulled apart the abdominal cavity of what looked to be a chicken, though Stanley really couldn’t tell as the poor animal had been plucked of its feathers, alongside the head being absent from its curved neck. He stayed a polite distance away, favoring standing at the far wall by the banded pig that had found it fun to throw its powdered feed around its pen. The young blonde scientist was assisting the necropsy, hands holding up the intestines of the bird as Xeno continued to poke his claws into the depth of the bird.

 

“Are you going to tell me what you needed me for or am I just a live audience to your anatomy class?” Stanley asked, carefully leaning on the freezer that bordered the wall.

 

Xeno’s black eyes flitted up, eyebrow cocking as he leaned away from the avian specimen, gesturing for Suika to take his spot. He stepped over to a metal sink basin, the steaming water bubbling as he submerged his steel claws in the liquid. 

 

“Patience is quite an elegant virtue to have,” Xeno quipped, claws moving from one basin to another. The stinging stench of chemicals burned Stanley’s nose as the steel claws swished around in the thick disinfecting liquid. “But today really nothing is to be done, just informing you what is going to happen.”

 

“I don’t even get to have a say if I want to participate?” Stanley asked, placing a hand on his hip. The urge for nicotine was biting at his brain, fingers twitching on his belt.

 

“Dr. Xeno said it would be easier to explain if you came to the lab,” Suika’s voice suddenly rang out, deep brown eyes dragging away from the bird to meet the soldier’s. 

 

“That it would be,” Xeno remarked, claws now sparkling clean as he pulled the mask off his face and dropped it in the garbage. “It is quite a simple procedure, at least on paper.”

 

“Well get to explaining then,” Stanley huffed, pushing off the freezer to follow Xeno to the pig pen a couple feet away. The white haired scientist’s hands were clasped behind his back as he watched the sow turn around in the small pen, bored with throwing its feed on the metal grates and instead snuffling the metal bars of her enclosure. 

 

“We are preparing to send a prototype through the time machine,” Xeno began, black eyes tracking the pig snuffling the steel bars. “However we don’t want to send a human through the machine, lest we mangle them beyond comprehension.”

 

“Send an animal then,” Stanley quipped, crossing his arms as the scientist reached a hand out to the side, tapping one of the monitors on the wall. 

 

“That’s what we originally wanted to do,” Xeno sighed, a grimace following the statement. “But we need to understand its impact on human biology and on petrification.”

 

“Send a petrified human through then,” Stanley huffed, eyes sliding over to Suika, who was extracting something from the bird, the metal syringe glinting in the clinical lighting. 

 

“That would not go over well with the new ethics division,” Xeno sighed, short black lashes kissing his pale cheeks. “They are quite the hindrance.”

 

“So? Have Senku pull some strings.”

 

“That’s exactly what we are doing here, and why I asked you to come,” Xeno’s eyes slid back open, turning on his heel to face the blonde. “We are going to create a sort of homunculus.”

 

“A what?” Stanley asked, eyebrows furrowing at the smug look on the scientist’s face. It dropped as he took in the soldier’s flat expression. “That thing in alchemy?”

 

“Yes, that ‘thing’ in alchemy,” Xeno huffed, claws clinking as he clasped them behind his back again. “While we can’t send a whole human through the machine, sending a sort of human skirts the guidelines of ethics, that is, we can have a subject with human DNA, but it ultimately is not human. Or animal for that matter.”

 

Stanley stole a glance over at the sow, the metal grates clanging as it plopped down, beady eyes shutting as it rested. Suika had stepped away from the necropsy as well, the metal syringe in her hands disappearing into a red container labeled biohazard. He had a feeling in his gut that was deepening, making him slightly queasy. 

 

“Let me guess the pig and that poor chicken have something to do with this,” Stanley asked, watching Suika pull her nitrile gloves off and rinsing her hands in a metal basin. The stench of chemicals burned his nostrils as the young scientist washed her hands. 

 

“Elegant observation my dear Stanley,” Xeno smiled, drawing the soldier’s attention back to the sow dozing in its pen. “We are going to use the reproductive track from this pig to create a solitary womb. It reaches sexual maturity next week, when we are going to extract its reproductive organs.” 

 

“Okay…and that chicken?” Stanley asked, eyeing the sow. Maybe the chemicals in the air were making him sick, his stomach churning like it was in a washing machine. 

 

“Well, we are going to use genetic modification in the reproductive tract using avian DNA,” Suika piped up, hands clean and dry as she picked up the biohazard container. “To imitate petrification.”

 

“It’s an old world technique called CRISPR, genetic modification of certain DNA sequences using a guiding RNA molecule,” Xeno touted off, bracketed smile growing wider with each word. “Essentially, we are going to have the reproductive tract form a shell around the fetus in vitro. That way we can imitate petrification and not have to ask Why-Man to use some of their power.” 

 

“Uh huh,” Stanley did not like where this was going. “Frankensteining the son of a bitch.”

 

“Not the term I would personally use, but yes,” Xeno sighed, claws clinking as he took the biohazard container from Suika. “However it is a time sensitive procedure, we need to extract the reproductive tract and quickly inject the avian DNA at virtually the same time we-”

 

Xeno cut himself off with a cough, grip tightening on the red container. 

 

“Same time we what?” Stanley asked, neither of the two scientists were looking him in the eyes. 

 

“We…we implement the human DNA zygote,” Suika squeaked out, half hiding behind the white haired scientist as she spoke. “We have an artificial gamete created, we just need…an additional human gamete to fertilize it with.” 

 

The reproductive sections of every anatomy class Stanley had been forced to take in the old world came flooding back, the diagrams, punnett squares and hormone names flitting across his frontal lobe like a flipbook. 

 

“You guys want me to. Give you my DNA,” Stanley slowly spoke, hoping either one of them would jump in and tell him he was mistaken, misunderstanding what they were saying. They didn’t. 

 

“More specifically a gamete,” Xeno cleared his throat, finally looking the soldier in the eyes. 

 

“Like my sperm?” Stanley asked, hand leaning on the metal bars of the pig pen. The sow opened her eyes at the action, heaving herself to her hooves to clomp the short distance over. It snuffled as his gloved hand as he stared at the two scientists. “You want me to jizz in a cup?”

 

“It won’t be that inelegant,” Xeno rolled his eyes, shifting the container under his arm. “We will do a sterile extraction.”

“It won’t hurt or anything,” Suika piped up, still half hiding behind Xeno’s thin figure. “We are going to extract from your lumbar area.”

 

“What Dr. Suika is trying to say is that we will insert a catheter of sorts via your lumbar area and snake it along your hip bone where then we can extract from the epididymis of your tes-”

 

“Okay I get the picture,” Stanley cut him off, hyper aware of the fact that the young blonde scientist was present for talk about extracting semen from his inguinal area. “But why me? There’s plenty of male or female scientists you could use.”

 

“Well,” Xeno began, eyes watching the sow continue to snuffle at Stanley’s fingers. “We need a good specimen.”

 

“A good specimen?” Stanley repeated, free hand pushing his cowlick from his eyes. “Like someone physically fit?”

 

“Among other things,” Xeno’s expression was morphing into that familiar image of smug satisfaction. “You have no genetic mutations nor any familial history of genetic disease, despite that nasty nicotine habit, you are a picture perfect test subject.”

 

“So what, why not use yourself? Or Chrome?” Stanley resisted rubbing at his temples, finally swatting the pig away when it tried to nibble at his gloves. “You guys seem in pretty good health to me.”

 

“While yes, phenotypically we seem fine, I already examined our DNA a couple weeks ago,” Xeno replied, Suika nodding in affirmation. “My family’s history of albinism poses a huge risk, as many zygotes carrying that mutation never develop past the first four weeks.”

 

“Why not Chrome? Or Ryusui for that matter? I’m sure he would love to stick his fingers in whatever weird experiment you all are cooking up,” Stanley was quickly realizing he had no say in this, glaring at the biohazard container like it was personally offending him. 

 

“If you must know,” Xeno started, acting like it was some unbelievable request. “The Ishigami village is incredibly inbred, at least to modern standards. That itself poses a great risk, as the zygote will most likely be unviable. And with that, any mutations or disorders that the homunculus would have if it was viable, is almost guaranteed to obscure any findings.” 

 

“What about Ryusui?” Stanley huffed. He knew that greedy bastard would jump at the chance to have his DNA all over that laboratory. “He seems in quite good health.”

 

“Ryusui is our second candidate,” Suika piped up, finally leaving her hiding place behind Xeno. “Though we are afraid that he would be a little too…”

 

“Zealous, to put it lightly,” Xeno sighed, shaking his head. “Ryusui, while a great candidate, would be quite the wild card.”

 

“Wild card? Like what, trying to create clones of himself?” He let out a breathy laugh at the statement. “Baby trap the entire scientist division?”

 

“That’s one of the scenarios we are afraid of, yes,” the white haired scientist muttered, glaring at the white banded pig that had retreated back to laying down in her narrow pen. “Senku mistakenly told him about the experiment and he has already tried to provide, well, samples.” 

 

“Samples,” Stanley blinked a couple times, watching Xeno’s thick eyebrows drawn together in exasperation as he reminisced. 

 

“Yes, that is how we figured out that an unsterile semen sample is unviable,” Suika said, cheeks a rosy pink. 

 

“To put it lightly, Senku barred Ryusui from participating in this experiment,” Xeno sighed, eyes closed tightly as he continued. “The last thing we need is a sexual assault allegation due to his…over zealous participation in this experiment. We are already on thin ice with the ethics committee and adding indecent exposure to the list of violations would definitely cause a hitch in our proceedings.”

 

That does sound like Ryusui, Stanley begrudgingly thought, placing a hand on his cocked hip. He looked them both up and down, white coats buttoned neatly, hair slicked and free of flyaways. Suika’s brown eyes were almost pleading, the tinge of excitement barely hidden in her expression. Xeno’s expression was one of smugness, shifting the container in his arms as he caught the soldier’s eye. 

 

“Can you do it, Stan?” Xeno asked, bracketed smile pushing the apples of his cheeks up. He already knew the answer. The saliva in Stanley’s mouth choked him as he swallowed thickly, wedging in his esophagus. 

 

“I can.”

 

=

 

The surgical room was something out of a sci-fi movie, floor covered in wheeled machines, large surgical spotlights hanging from the ceiling. The white walls were spotless, the steel examination tables reflecting the light like a disco ball. Shoes squeaked on the floor, Stanley idly watching a medical team cart in the white banded sow, flipping it on its back to start prepping it. There was a large vat of some unknown, pinkish fluid, various pumps and tubes connected to its glass casing.

 

The examination table was cold underneath Stanley’s strewn figure, paired with the sharp clinical smell of iodine and isopropyl alcohol. The surgery lighting was hurting his eyes, the white walls reflecting the cold tone to the back of his retinas. He was on his side, the back of the hospital gown open to the laboratory. Multiple monitors were beeping, the sound grating on his ears as he felt the stick of a needle into his tailbone area, right above his buttock. 

 

“Alright we are starting with the local anesthetic,” Xeno said, voice muffled behind the mask he wore. 

 

Stanley kept his eyes forward as the numbing sensation began to bloom across his flank, the cold feeling of the steel table fading from his hipbone area. The sow was open on the table beside him, the table folded to keep the pig on its back, legs tied to brackets above the examination area. Its banded white belly was stained orange with iodine, abdominal area being sliced open as the scientist opened the animal up. He didn’t know the surgeon, their bicolored hair tucked neatly beneath a surgical cap as they began extracting what Stanley presumed to be its reproductive tract. Multiple assistants were running around the room, checking machines, preparing medications or simply watching and waiting for instructions.

 

“Can you feel anything?” Suika piped up, prompting Stanley to peer over his shoulder at the blonde scientist. She was poking lightly at his lumbar area with forceps, her free hand palpating the top of his medius muscle. Xeno was behind her, black eyes watching as Suika set the forceps on the rolling steel cart, three identical metal syringes lining the small top, practically glowing against the blue steri-cloth. 

 

“Not a thing,” he replied, dropping his head to his arm that was extended underneath his skull. 

 

“Wonderful,” Xeno had a smile in his voice, Stanley forcing himself to concentrate on the pig surgeon, the figure confidently tying off the sow’s organs, the offending reproductive track being handed off to a waiting assistant. “We will begin snaking the catheter.”

 

Stanley gave a grunt in reply, chewing on his lip as there was a distinct clink of metal, the ripping of sterile plastic. The pig organs were being submerged in the murky, pink tinged fluid that was residing in the glass vat, the surgeon wasting no time in sticking their long gloved arms into the fluid to attach the organ to a pumping tube. At least I’m not being fixed like that poor pig, Stanley thought to himself as there was a distinct pressure that announced itself in his abdominal area. It almost tickled, as what the blonde presumed was the catheter tube began to snake along his iliac crest, feeling along a space that Stanley didn’t even know could be felt. The press of the head of the tube on the ligaments of his inguinal area inadvertently made his hips jerk, Xeno behind his hissing between his teeth at the action. 

 

“Don’t move,” Xeno remarked, gloved hands smooth as they held onto Stanley’s ankles. 

 

“Not trying to,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “Sorry Suika.”

 

“It’s okay, I’m sure it feels weird,” the young woman said, the tube beginning to move again. “Let me know if it hurts.” 

 

“Will do,” Stanley replied, focusing back on the surgeon, who had stripped off their shoulder length gloves. They were assisted, the iodine stained surgical garb being pulled off and fresh garments being placed back over their blue scrubs. 

 

The tube paused, the stiff head pressing on the top of his bladder, an uncomfortable weight on the organ. Stanley had been told not to urinate before the procedure, due to being able to use ultrasound. Xeno released his ankles, shoes clapping on the metal flooring as the bicolor haired surgeon made their way over. He watched silently as Xeno wheeled over what the soldier presumed to be an ultrasound machine, given the large screen and familiar looking equipment. 

 

“We are going to have to use ultrasound to guide Dr. Suika,” the surgeon spoke, their smile hidden behind the mask they still wore. “So that we don’t extract from the wrong area.”

 

“Sounds fine to me,” Stanley replied, averting his eyes as Xeno made his way around the machine and the waiting scientist, standing by the soldier’s head. 

 

His gloves tickled as he pulled Stanley’s hospital gown up and away from his groin area, careful to shield Suika’s gaze from the exposure. He kept his amber eyes on the pig reproductive track bubbling in the fluid filled container being carted across the lab. Two assistants wheeled the item behind him, the muted bubbling barely audible over the steady beeping of the other machines. 

 

This really is something out of Frankenstein. 

 

The warbling sound of the machine started up, Stanley only aware of the gel being placed on his lower abdominal area due to peering around Xeno’s lithe figure as the scientist smeared it on his tan skin.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” the scientist suddenly piped up, pressing the head of the ultrasound tool deep against his groin area. Her free hand cocked the screen toward Suika, who began to move the catheter tube again. “This is nothing compared to usual semen extraction in other animals.”

 

“It’s quite tame,” Xeno agreed, hands slightly twitching with the continued strain of holding up Stanley’s hospital gown. 

 

He said nothing, just trying to tune out the weird conflicting pressures that his lower half was being subjected to. The tube inside of him was digging into his visceral flesh, the monochrome image on the ultrasound machine displaying a large black blob that Stanley presumed was his full bladder. 

 

“There’s the bladder,” Xeno remarked, nodding to the rolling cart. “Pierce at the joint of the vas deferens and seminal vesicles, Dr, Suika.”

 

“Understood,” she replied, the soldier swallowing the nausea building in his throat as he watched the grainy footage on the screen. 

 

The young blonde scientist shifted behind him, the shuffling of sterile disposable cloth muted as he honed in on the image of a narrow white tube appearing on the ultrasound screen. He could have sworn he felt the needle pierce into his vas deferens, growing slightly light headed as he watched the white needle on the screen sink into his reproductive tract. The grainy transparent image of the tube followed, contrasting as it rested against the black area of his bladder. 

 

“Extracting the needle,” Suika said, voice slightly wavering as the needle was pulled, leaving only the narrow catheter tube behind. Stanley let out a shuddering breath as he heard the needle clink against the examination table, quickly swiped away by a waiting assistant. 

 

“Stanley? Are you alright?” Xeno asked, turning slightly to look down at the blonde. Stanley just nodded, the sweat on his temples sliding down to sting his eyes. 

 

“Just keep going, I will be alright,” he gritted out, his peripheral blurry as he watched Suika attach one of the metal syringes to the protruding primary. Xeno kept staring at him, black eyes raking his expression like a comb.

 

“I’m going to flush the area, then snake the tube into your epididymis,” Suika explained, the surgeon holding the ultrasound tool nodding in agreement, pressing harsher on the soldier’s abdomen. 

 

“You might have some leaking from your privates,” Suika’s voice was tinged with embarrassment, the warmth of the flush making Stanley feel like he was incontinent. “But it’s normal.” 

 

“Alright,” Stanley replied, sucking in a sharp breath between his clenched teeth. The flush was warm, the temperature hotter than his own internal organs. “Why is the flushing so warm?”

 

The entire team stilled, Xeno’s black eyes flashing with something the soldier couldn’t decipher before his white haired head whipped around, staring at the ultrasound screen. Suika herself had stilled, her wide expression hidden behind her surgical mask, hands trembling where they held the metal syringe, empty of its contents. The scientist holding the ultrasound head dragged it down, almost to the base of his dick, light eyes scanning the blurry screen rapidly. 

 

“Hello? Anyone gonna answer me?” Stanley asked, trying not to shift the rest of his body as he craned his neck to look over his shoulder at the young blonde scientist. “Suika? Xeno?”

The beeping from the various machines filled the silence as the scientists all looked at each other, sharing a silent conversation. It felt like an eternity, though Stanley knew it had only been about thirty seconds before Xeno spoke, not facing the soldier. 

 

“Nothing to worry about,” his tone was measured and artificially calm. “We are going to continue.”

 

Stanley didn’t believe him, but considering he currently had a tube piercing his reproductive tract, he simply rested his head back on his arm, ignoring the warbling of the ultrasound, the beeping of the various machines and the smell of iodine in his nostrils. He kept his eyes trained on the cut open pig, feeling a little bit too similar to the sow, watching an assistant sew the animal back together with clinical precision. 

 

He forced himself to focus on the glint of the curved needle, the purple color of the suture. The press of the tube snaked through his abdomen, a slight pressure in his scrotal area before there was a physical tightening in his inguinal area. 

 

“Extracting now,” Suika murmured, Stanley feeling his scrotum being slightly drawn up toward his crotch before being released. There was a distinct clinking as the young scientist stepped back quietly talking with an assistant. “Put this in cryo freeze, we will have to do fertilizing another day.”

 

Goosebumps rose on Stanley’s neck at the statement, the nauseous feeling in his gut not just from the hard pressure of the ultrasound head. I thought they said it was time sensitive?

 

“We are going to remove the catheter tubing now,” Suika cleared her throat, the warbling of the ultrasound fading as it was pulled away from his abdomen. Xeno politely covered his sticky groin area back up, skirting around Stanley’s prone figure to peer over Suika’s shoulder. 

 

He nodded, watching the scientist wipe down the head and cart the machine away. There was that weird tickling sensation as the catheter was removed, the quiet conversation between the two behind him indecipherable underneath the sound of the machines. The rest of the procedure was a blur, his head swimming as he was sat up, the cool press of alcohol wipes as he regained feeling in his lower half, the weird sting that seemed to originate from the dorsal side of his bladder. 

 

Stanley watched as the scientists quietly talked with each other as his bare feet hit the laboratory floor, the cold seeping into the balls of his feet. Assistants guided him out of the laboratory as Xeno and Suika murmured rapidly to each other, the soldier not even being able to read their lips as he was removed from the sterile room. There was a sinking feeling that originated in his gut, and it definitely wasn’t just the knowledge his seed was being used to create an abomination of god. 

 

=

 

Xeno’s fingers were tired from the repeating tapping of them on his desk, his metal claws unusually heavy on his fingertips. Senku was sitting on one of the chairs in his office, idly blowing bubbles into the air. 

 

“Can you at least act concerned?” Xeno huffed, watching the green haired man try to connect two bubbles in the air. 

 

“I’m not the one who messed up,” Senku replied, lightly blowing the conjoined bubbles away. “Hell, it's not even Suika’s fault.”

 

Xeno sat down in his office chair, head in his hands as he rested on his elbows on his messy desk. Unfortunately, Senku was correct, Xeno had been the one to set up the syringes in the surgery. He frustratingly overlooked informing the young blonde scientist of what one to use. 

 

A stupid, inelegant mistake.

 

“There’s a chance that it won’t even develop into anything,” Senku sighed, head resting back on the chair as he tossed the container of bubbles onto the coffee table. His red eyes were watching the bubbles float around the messy office, leaving an iridescent film behind where they popped. “Suika didn’t inject it into actual muscle or tissue, correct?”

 

“No, she didn’t,” Xeno sighed, claws stinging where he pulled at his white hair. “It was deposited into the vas deferens.”

 

“Then it most likely will be expelled the next time Stanley has to go piss. Or the next time you two bump uglies.”

 

Xeno slid a glare between his fingers at the inelegant phrasing, sucking on his teeth. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that it wasn’t going to be that easy. Or even follow the laws of nature as they knew it, hell they had gotten turned to stone for 3700 years and somehow came out the other side in better health than before that stone vacation. 

 

“And what if it doesn’t?” Xeno asked the quiet office air, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

 

“Then we have a new experiment,” Senku answered casually, fabric shifting as he stood up. “Human bird hybrid, that’s a new one I must say.”

 

“It’s not a joking matter, Senku,” Xeno snapped, pulling his face away from his hands. His metal claws clanged as he slapped his hands to the top of his messy desk. “This could go very badly.”

 

“I doubt it,” Senku was picking at his ear, shrugging. “It was a guiding RNA for egg development, right?”

 

“Essentially yes, triggering the reproductive system to form calcium deposits within the primitive uterus.”

 

“Well unless Stanley is a hermaphrodite, then I don’t think he has a uterus. Most likely the CRISPR injection will be rejected and destroyed by his white cells, if he doesn’t just extrude it naturally.”

 

Senku spoke so matter of factly, like he had expected this type of screw up. Xeno held his stare, searching the ruby color for any sense of panic or otherwise negative emotion. There was nothing besides muted curiosity, and perhaps a little exasperation. 

 

“Think about it Xeno,” Senku sighed, shifting on his feet as he stood between the lounge chair and low coffee table. There was a smile cracking his face. “If it does work, and there is a development of avian genome within his body, think about the scientific progress that could be borne from it.”

 

“What, like government sanctioned biohacking?” Xeno huffed, crumpling the papers beneath his claws.

 

“More or less,” Senku grinned, hands resting on his hips. “Just keep an eye on him. If nothing develops, then we don’t need to tell Stanley what happened. If something does develop, that’s your problem.”

 

“Leaving me to the wolves I see,” Xeno sighed, closing his eyes. 

 

He wouldn’t be able to keep the information from Stanley, no matter development or not. The blonde soldier deserved honesty, given he had vowed it to the man on that altar years ago. Stanley already knew something was up and the white haired scientist was sure he would be cornered in their home tonight to have an answer wrung from his body.

 

“We don’t need another repeat of the war in Araxa, thank you very much,” Senku quipped, rolling his eyes. “If he hears it from his beloved damsel he most likely won’t put the rest of our heads on pikes.”

 

Xeno gave a breathy laugh at the phrasing, hands releasing his desk to smooth back his pristine pompadour. The green haired scientist had retreated to the threshold of the office, hand resting on the brass doorknob, popping the door open. 

 

“Good luck telling Stanley he’s part bird now,” he called over his shoulder as he left Xeno in his office, hand waving lazily as his wild hair disappeared through the doorway. 

 

“Thanks,” Xeno muttered as the door clicked shut, leaving him alone in his messy office. 

 

The framed photo of Stanley and him mocked him where it sat on his desk, accompanied by the framed picture of the rest of the scientist team standing in front of the lunar mission rocket. Hopefully, Senku was right and the injection was going to fail and naturally be filtered out from the soldier’s body. He didn’t want to think about the ulterior consequence, especially when he needed to come up with a way to tell Stanley that he may or may not have avian genetics blocked into his genome. 

 

Xeno definitely didn’t want to face the part of him that was frothing at the mouth, eager to see if that ulterior consequence could be studied, replicated and picked apart by his steel claws. That was something he would face another day, maybe in a confessional, or in one of his sessions with Gen. 

 

But not right now, not with the impending sense of doom intimidating his psyche. 

 

=

 

Stanley was looking down at the sizzling pan like it was personally offending him.

 

After he had been guided out of the laboratory he had been given a quick physical exam, a blood draw and a urine sample was collected. After the various nurses and scientists had left him in that cold, clinical room, only then had the soldier slipped out of the thin hospital gown. The familiar weight of his uniform was like a hug, the denim warm against his legs, the cotton button down kissing his torso. 

 

He had found his way through the winding halls, out into the humid summer air to rest on the hood of his vehicle until Xeno’s white hair had appeared in the exit doorway to the large, looming concrete building. The scientist looked frazzled as he exited, the evening sun making his pale skin glow as it sank beneath the horizon. His pristine slickback was cockeyed, the buttons on his lab coat were in the wrong holes and he had already shucked his clawed gloves off, thin fingers bare as he shoved them in the pockets of his labcoat. 

 

Xeno had said nothing as the soldier popped the door open for him, sliding into the cool leather seat of the car. The blonde slipped into the driver’s seat, cranking the engine as he flicked the cigarette butt to the pavement. The radio crackled to life, the scratchy voice talking about expected weather patterns and how to prepare. The scientist’s usual chatter was absent as they pulled away from the building, shrinking in the rearview mirror as they made their way into the city. 

 

The blonde didn’t think it would be productive to pry, especially in the car when Xeno has had a habit of being quite unpredictable when it comes to his irritated outbursts. Thin fingers simply played with the hem of his bleach white lab coat, chapped lips mouthing inaudible words into the stale cab air. The A/C was making Stanley’s ears cold as they continued to travel home, concentration muddled from attempting to read his lips. Xeno continued to murmur to himself the entire way home, the rumble of the engine and crackly radio static drowning out any words that filtered from his thin lips. 

Xeno had locked himself in his office after they crossed the threshold of their shared condo, not even bothering to take off his loafers before the door had clicked shut. He shrugged off his uniform coat, throwing it on the coat tree as he heard the scientist’s office chair scrape the hardwood flooring. Sighing, Stanley kicked off his boots, hanging the car keys on its hook before walking further into the unit, flicking on the ambient lighting over the kitchen island. 

 

“I’m gonna start dinner,” Stanley called, slinging the fridge open to peer inside. He heard a muffled reply trickle from under the office door, the blonde presuming it was an affirmation. 

 

In all honesty he had just thrown anything looking like it was on its last legs into the pan, dousing it in butter and salt and hoping that it was at least edible. That’s how he found himself glaring down into the pan, digging the meat masher into the lean ground beef with a little more force than necessary. Xeno hadn’t poked his head from his office as the blonde had cooked, but he surmised it wouldn’t be long given the underlying presumption the man hadn’t eaten all day. 

 

The rice cooker beeped as the office door creaked open, the white haired man leaving nose first from his cluttered office. Stanley gave a wave with the wooden spatula hand in his hand as the man climbed onto a barstool, resting his elbows on the kitchen island. He could feel the man’s black eyes on him as Xeno watched him plate their food, hissing as the hot metal from the rice cooker seared his fingerpads.

 

“You keep looking at me like that I’m gonna assume you want something else to eat,” Stanley grinned, sticking a fork in the mound of rice before sliding the plate across the kitchen island to stop in front of the man’s thin figure. 

 

“Oh please,” Xeno rolled his eyes as he picked up his fork, moving the rice around to soak in the butter from the stir fried vegetables and minced meat. 

 

Stanley just laughed, leaning back on the counter by the stove, watching the scientist delicately place a forkful of food into his mouth, pearly white glinting in the ambient light of the kitchen. The smell of butter and spice was overpowering as the soldier dug into his own plate, socked foot bracing on the cabinets as they ate in relative silence. Xeno had leaned away from his plate, fork clinking on the counter as he shifted to get out of his chair. 

 

“You want something to drink?” Stanley asked, setting his plate on the counter beside him. “Here, I’ll get it.”

 

Xeno murmured a thanks, settling back on his stool as Stanley filled up a glass of water, setting the cool glass in front of the white haired scientist. The purple bags under his eyes were more prominent in the low lighting, making the man look more gaunt than he actually was. Stanley settled back against the counter, picking up his half eaten plate before he spoke again. 

 

“How about we turn in early to-”

 

“Stanley,” Xeno cut him off, lithe finger tracing the rim of his glass. 

 

“Yeah?” He didn’t comment on the interruption. “What’s up Xe?”

 

“I may not have been entirely truthful.”

 

“Be a little more specific. If this is about where my nice red button up went, I already knew that you ruined it with pen ink and threw it out.”

 

“...Sorry about that,” Xeno’s black eyes flitted from his tracing finger to Stanley’s face then back to his finger. “But it’s not that, it’s about today.”

 

“With the homunculus shit?”

 

“Partially, yes.”

 

The rice and meat in his stomach was churning, like rocks in a dryer, threatening to burst through the mucosal tissue of his digestive tract.  He set his plate back down, crossing his arms as he leaned on the counter. Xeno’s finger paused on the rim of his glass, hand slightly trembling as he picked it up, taking a demure sip. 

 

“It’s about the extraction,” his pink tongue licked the residual dampness from his chapped lips. “There may have been a…hiccup.”

 

“Oh,” Stanley blinked, shoulders releasing their tension. That’s it? I just gotta go in for another extraction? “I mean I can come in again if they need another sample.”

 

“It’s not about that,” the white haired scientist shook his head, the hand holding his fork absentmindedly pushing the food around his plate. 

 

“Then what could it possibly be?” Stanley asked, uncrossing his arms to brace his hands on the counter behind him. “What did y’all fuck up - accidentally putting chicken DNA in my balls?”

 

The disbelieving laugh died in his throat as Xeno’s face didn’t crack into that familiar bracketed smile, the usually prideful scientist hanging his head like a guilty dog. The smell of butter was making Stanley nauseous all the sudden, the blood pressure in his skull dropping to concerning levels as he dug his fingers into the unforgiving kitchen counter. 

 

“Xeno. You didn’t do that, right?” Stanley asked, watching the man scoop and drop forkfuls of rice onto his rapidly cooling supper. “Xeno.”

 

“It wasn’t directly into your testicles,” the white haired scientist finally squeaked out, the tines of his fork screeching on the porcelain dish. “Just into your vas deferens.”

 

“You are fucking with me, right?” Stanley snapped back, pushing off the counter. 

 

He tried to push his cowlick out of his face unsuccessfully as he tried to regulate his breathing, spinning in the small space between counters. While the soldier wasn’t super well versed in genetic modification, he was aware of what biohacking was - at least what it was in the old world - and that a simple injection can fuck heavily with your own genome. 

 

“Listen Stan,” Xeno began, fork clattering onto his lukewarm food as he leaned back on his stool. “It wasn’t injected into any muscle and tissue so you most likely already expelled it.”

 

“What, I pissed it out?” The churning in his gut was amplifying as he searched Xeno’s face for some crack, some hint that it was a cruel joke. 

 

“There’s a high chance, yes,” the white haired scientist nodded, fingers anxiously drumming the island counter. “Dr. Nevada should’ve asked you for a urine sample before you left the laboratory.”

 

“The pig surgeon?” Stanley asked, dragging his hands down his face and cupping his own neck. “They asked for one, yeah.”

 

“Then there is a high probability that it is already expunged,” the man replied, sliding off the bar stool to pad around the kitchen island. He took Stanley’s broad hands into his own before speaking again. “If not, then we can perform surgery to remove anything that occurs.”

 

“This is some new sort of Frankenstein,” the blonde grumbled, curling his fingers around the pale ones that were threaded through his own. He still felt mildly sick. “What do you mean surgery?”

 

“The CRISPR was for the development of calcium deposits in the uterus of the subject,” Xeno explained, dark gaze watching Stanley’s thumbs rub at the back of his bony hands. “Though given you don’t have a uterus, I doubt anything will happen. Some side effects might be the shedding of your nails more frequently, or kidney stones.”

 

“If I get kidney stones I will be insufferable,” Stanley pressed a purple lipprint to the back of one of Xeno’s hands. The initial shock and fear had waned, the churning of his stomach settling to an almost gentle rocking. 

 

“You deserve it, given this scenario,” Xeno sighed, drawing himself closer to the blonde’s chest and wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’ll be at your beck n’ call.”

 

“Quite a shift in dynamics,” Stanley huffed, taking in the stale scent of the scientist’s cologne. “Be careful, I might want to be the princess if I like it enough.”

 

“Senku was right,” Xeno mumbled into his chest, rubbing his nose against the fabric as his thin hands skated up across the muscles of his back. 

 

“Right about what?” The blonde questioned, the white hair under his fingers crunching as they were combed from their styled position. 

 

“You would take the news better from me than from anyone else,” the scientist craned his face up, chin digging into Stanley’s sternum as he continued. “They were afraid that if anyone else told you it would have been Araxa part two.”

 

Stanley just shook his head as he laughed, cupping at the man’s slim jawline and watching his pale complexion falter under the soft touch. 

 

“I think I’m too old for such events but I appreciate the forethought,” the blonde grinned, leaning slightly down to press a chaste kiss to the man’s chapped lips. The scientist hummed into the contact, fingers twisting into his cotton button down. 

 

“Besides,” he licked at his purple lipstick as the contact broke. “Like you said, nothing will probably happen. And even if something does, you will be able to fix it, I trust that.” 

 

“You are truly the most elegant knight,” Xeno hummed, chapped lips smudged with purple pigment. “So trusting of your princess.”

 

“Always,” Stanley replied, resting his chin on the top of Xeno’s head as the man tightened the embrace. “Nothing is gonna happen, I’m sure of it.”

 

=

 

Something was definitely happening. 

 

For weeks, there was no head or tail of symptoms and Stanley began to relax. He had indeed expelled those alien genetics from his body and it was just a blip in the experiment, something to write in the footnotes of the report. However, at about three months after the event, Stanley began to feel mildly sick. 

 

He began to feel nauseous and bloated, despite his diet not changing initally. It was irritating, with some days the symptoms were nonexistent and others he could barely get out of bed. Xeno kept to his promise and doted on the soldier when he found himself tossing and turning on their mattress, thin fingers combing his sweaty locks from his face. Stanley wasn’t usually a complainer, but he couldn’t help groaning and grumbling as he fought off the nausea, or when he had to go to the bathroom every five minutes because it felt like someone was using his bladder like a stress ball. 

 

It came to a head when he started eating an incredible amount of fish, bones and all, and exploiting their entire grocery budget on things like cheese, nuts and various leafy greens. He couldn’t get enough. Despite still feeling nauseous, Stanley found himself gorging on the various items, standing over the counter as he stuffed his mouth full of salmon and almonds like some sort of wild bear. The soldier had a doctor’s appointment scheduled when one day Xeno stumbled upon him drinking the liquid from a can of sardines, the pungent oil tainting his uniform with a garlicky odor. 

 

So, Stanley found himself back in the biological division of the laboratory, leaning back on a paper covered examination table as they waited for the appointment to begin. Xeno was standing beside him, clawed gloves tickling the hair at the nape of his neck as they waited. There was a knock at the door, the soldier calling them into the small clinical room, the scientist’s bicolored hair sliding through the threshold. Stanley recognized them as the surgeon who worked on the sow, white coat buttoned to their neck, yellow heels clicking on the linoleum of the exam room. 

 

“Good morning,” the scientist smiled, pulling the ultrasound machine into the clinical room. Stanley eyed the machine, reminiscing on what it was used for just a couple months ago. “Dr. Wingfield informed me you are having some strange symptoms.”

 

Stanley nodded as the scientist rested the machine against the wall, turning on their heel to face the blonde laying back on the bed. They motioned for him to untuck his button up, manicured fingers wasting no time in pressing against his bloated abdomen. It hurt, the slight pressure making him wince as it felt like a rock was digging into the back of his bladder, like his kidney had detached to find home in his inguinal area. 

 

“How long have you been bloated like this?” The scientist asked, thumbs pressing beneath his belly button, a weird rolling sensation occurring as their thumbs dragged toward his navel. 

 

“A little over a month?” Stanley replied, wincing at the continued pressure. “It’s not every day though.”

 

The scientist hummed in response, hands retreating and turning back to the ultrasound machine and wheeling it over. Stanley shivered as the cold gel was smeared on his lower abdomen by the scientist, Xeno’s fingers soothing as they petted his nape. His black eyes were sharp, focusing on the blonde’s abdomen like it would start speaking and tell him exactly what was going on. There was a slight flush on his pale cheeks, expression similar to when he would make some scientific breakthrough, Stanley writing it off as nerves. The lights dimmed as a familiar warbling sound started up, the ultrasound head posed in the scientist’s fingers. 

“Alright let’s see what’s causing this,” the scientist smiled, pressing the head hard against his lower abdomen. 

 

Without the anesthetic from the procedure, the pressure was pinching, squishing his visceral organs as they watched the staticky monochrome image that appeared on the screen. Xeno had leaned over Stanley’s prone figure, black eyes glinting as it scanned the image eagerly. 

 

“There’s your bladder,” Xeno remarked as the head passed over his linea alba beneath his belly button. “Seems normal.”

 

The scientist nodded in affirmation, sliding the ultrasound lower, hitting the waistband of his pants. It passed to the side, the warbling making Stanley’s head spin as it skirted around his bladder, the scientist pausing their movements as the image of what looked like a bullseye appeared on the screen, the black image of his bladder partially obscuring the top of it. 

 

“What is that?” Stanley asked, looking from the scientist to Xeno, then back again. “I didn’t see that during the procedure.”

 

“Dr. Wingfield mentioned a diet change,” the scientist was speaking slowly, light eyes still locked on the fuzzy image. “What have you been eating?”

 

“Uh, stuff like fish and tree nuts,” the blonde replied, confused as Xeno’s claws skirted toward his exposed stomach, tracing through the blue gel around the ultrasound head. “Why does that matter? What is that?”

 

The pressure was released as the scientist pulled the head away, back turned as they wiped the tool off, hooking it back on the machine. Xeno still had his claws outlining the area, the gel drying tight on his skin. The lights were turned back up as the machine rested against the far wall, the scientist finally turning to face the pair. 

 

“It seems that you have a calcium growth in your abdomen.”

 

“Come again?” Stanley asked, looking at Xeno for confirmation. The white haired man wasn’t looking at him, a poorly suppressed expression of excitement cracking his complexion as his claws circled his abdomen. “Like a kidney stone?”

 

“No, not a stone,” the scientist shook their head, pulling paper towels from the holder on the side of the bed, wiping at the gel. “It’s not related to the kidneys.”

 

“It’s…” Xeno began, accepting some paper towels to clean the sticky gel from his claws. “A primitive egg.”

 

Stanley thought he was dreaming, that this was some sick nightmare. He had half the mind to slap himself, just to test the theory. Xeno delicately pulled his shirt back over his now clean abdomen, claws tickling the slight bloat of his navel area. The scientist collected the sticky paper towels, chucking them in the trashcan beside the door.

 

“I don’t have, I don’t have a uterus or a womb or whatever,” the blonde managed out, hands ripping at the paper beneath him. He couldn’t muster the strength to sit up, the static of the paper making his hair frizzy. “Where the fuck is it, just floating in my guts?”

 

“Not exactly,” the scientist had clasped their hands in front of them as they spoke, heels clicking on the flooring as they walked up to the examination bed. “Avian reproductive systems don’t have what we think of as a traditional uterus, it's more accurate to call it a ‘shell gland.’”

 

“So what, my body grew a - a shell gland?” He couldn’t help his breathing, sucking in lungfuls of air. One of Xeno’s hands threaded through his own, squeezing gently. 

 

“That’s what I am surmising,” the scientist hovered their hand over his clothed, bloated abdomen. “I deal with animals, not humans, but it is not unheard of for the development of a shell gland in mature, male birds.”

 

“Well that’s great but I am not a fucking bird,” Stanley snapped. 

 

“Most likely what happened,” the bicolor haired scientist continued on, ignoring the outburst. “Is the CRISPR injection found its root, and in response to the guiding RNA molecule calling for calcium deposits, the formation of a shell gland occurred.”

 

“Organ development due to hormonal trigger?” Xeno piped up, free hand crossing the index and middle finger in front of his face. “Not unheard of.”

 

“It’s sexual maturation essentially,” the scientist drew their hand away again, clasping them in front of their chest as they continued. “You inadvertently went through avian puberty.”

 

“So I’m sort of fucked up hermaphrodite?” Stanley asked, glancing down at his abdomen. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

 

“Now that the development has occurred, we can most likely remove the gland via surgery,” Xeno said, black eyes flitting side to side like he was reading a transcript. “Perform a hysterectomy to remove it.”

 

“Great then, let’s do that. Like right now,” Stanley remarked, finally finding the strength to sit up on the examination table. “Get this shit out of me.”

 

“It is not that simple,” the scientist said, stepping slightly back as the blonde adjusted on the table. “There is already a developing egg in your system.”

 

“So what?”

 

“It could lead to hemorrhaging, alongside the factor the surgery would be exploratory - if the egg was damaged in your system it could lead to infection and potentially kill you,” the scientist had retreated further away with the growing tension, resting a hand on the ultrasound machine. 

 

“Then what the hell am I going to do?” Stanley felt like he was trapped, the small clinical room feeling too small, the contact of Xeno’s gloved hand making him overstimulated. The lights were hurting his eyes, the paper crinkling under him incredibly loud. 

 

“My advice? Pass the calcium deposit,” the scientist licked their lips, averting their eyes. “The shell gland is fully developed and connected with your rectal tract, much like an avian cloaca. You should be able to pass the egg with little to no problem. After that, then we can remove the shell gland and tie off the primitive vaginal canal.”

 

He was going to puke, projectile vomit all over the exam room. The hand in his grip squeezed around his fingers, grounding him under the cold LED lights of the clinical space. Every hair on his body was standing up and Stanley could’ve sworn he felt the egg roll in his abdomen, pressing on the back of his bladder like some harkening reminder of the situation. Xeno brought him out of his thoughts, claws smoothing his golden hair. 

 

“It shouldn’t hurt,” Xeno murmured, Stanley turning slightly to catch his black eyes.

 

“No it shouldn’t,” the scientist agreed, resting a hand on the doorknob. “I will leave you two to talk about it. The egg should pass within the next twenty four to forty eight hours.”

 

Without another word, the bicolor haired scientist left, leaving the two in that cold, clinical room. The ultrasound machine was an imposing figure where it rested against the wall, reminding Stanley that this was, in fact, happening. That he had some weird calcium deposit - egg - foreign body -  in his abdomen. And the blonde had to somehow pass it.

 

“I’ll take the next few days off,” Xeno remarked, long after the door had clicked shut. The hum of the lights made Stanley’s head buzz, rubbing at his temple with his free hand.

“You better,” Stanley huffed, somehow laughing at the situation. “This is your fault.”

 

“I am a father at forty something years old,” Xeno shook his head, a hesitant smile on his thin lips. 

 

“Oh absolutely not,” the blonde nudged him with his shoulder, releasing the hold he had on Xeno’s hand. “We are frying this thing up as soon as it pops out.”

 

Stanley patted his abdomen as he rose off the bed, tucking his button up back into his pants as he stepped toward the exam door. Xeno followed close behind, laughing as he looped his arm through the soldier’s extended elbow. 

 

“Is it considered cannibalism if we do that?” The white haired scientist asked as they exited, the hallway smelling sterile, like alcohol and bleach. 

 

“Even if it is, I don’t care,” Stanley grinned, shoes clapping on the shiny linoleum as they made their way out of the clinical sector. There were few other workers mingling around, the occasional nurse breezing past them as appointments began to file into the laboratory clinic.  

 

“I feel like we have done worse than eating some abomination of god,” Xeno remarked, letting the soldier lead him out into the mid morning air. The throes of autumn hadn’t set in just yet, the tepid cool air bliss on his feverish skin. 

 

Stanley just laughed, walking the pair down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, ignoring the ever present pressure in his abdomen. The initial panic had ebbed away, comforted by Xeno’s rather confident response to the news. He wasn’t sure how exactly it would all play out, but if the white haired scientist didn’t seem too concerned, then neither was he. 

 

Twenty four to forty eight hours, then it’ll be over. 

 

=

 

Stanley started feeling incredibly…odd the next evening. He wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling, the constant pressure in his visceral space making him uncomfortable but not painful. His abdomen had continued to bloat, the skin tight and hot where the blonde pressed his fingers to it. The white haired scientist had noted any emerging symptoms down in a small, leather bound notebook, the scratching of his pen ever insistent as the blonde lay splayed out on their unmade bed. 

 

The shades were drawn in the small bedroom, the four poster bed curtains tied back to allow proper air flow from the ceiling fan. The lamps on the nightstands flanking the large bed were on, the yellow light illuminating the dark hardwood floors and rumpled purple bedspread. The door to the conjoining bathroom was open, the vanity light left on so that Xeno could easily refresh the washcloths and other attending supplies.

 

It was rolling in his abdomen, like some fucked up tennis ball in a dryer. Stanley had long since taken off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his sweaty boxers as Xeno wiped the sweat off his forehead with a damp washcloth. He was in an untucked button up and old slacks, ever business casual despite the rather unusual circumstance.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“How do you think,” Stanley snapped, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. The pressure was heightening, his oblique muscles twitching as they tried to pull his navel back toward his spine. “It’s uncomfortable.”

 

Xeno didn’t remark on the snappish tone, just simply shuffling on his knees toward the blonde’s abdomen, slipping on the wrinkled duvet. The cool washcloth was bliss on his distended stomach, rhythmic motions making his spine relax. The egg rolled again, inadvertently groaning as it pressed against his bladder, muscles twitching with the pressure. 

 

“Stan?” Xeno asked, black eyes wide as he pulled the washcloth away, the rolling visible from the outside. “What’s happening?”

 

“How should I know,” he groaned, fingers twisting in sweaty sheets as there was an involuntary relaxation of his…well Stanley wasn’t sure. There was an alien organ and object nestled in his visceral space and he didn’t know how to classify it. The vaginal canal? That seemed too odd to him, a tissue meant for something that wasn’t his. But it was his, as the sudden relaxation made him suck in lungfuls of air. “Take my boxers off.”

 

The other man just nodded, washcloth abandoned on the bed as thin hands pulled at his boxers, sticking to his sweaty skin. Stanley couldn’t help at all, muscles weak as the scientist yanked the boxers off his hips then his legs, discarding the undergarment on the bedroom floor. Xeno shuffled between his legs, thin hands gentle as he cocked a leg to the side, bending the knee. The movement caused Stanley to hiss through his teeth, the egg rolling up like it was bouncing off his floating ribs. He craned his head forward, watching the excited expression on Xeno’s face as he leaned forward, black eyes glinting like stars. 

 

“Don’t look so excited dammit,” Stanley panted, hands twisting harder in the sheets as the back of his thighs shivered. “It’s pissing me off.”

 

“I can’t help it,” the white haired scientist breathed, eyes trained on the space between his legs. “This is a once in a lifetime experience.”

 

“Thank god for that,” he replied, head dropping heavily against the flattened pillows. He could smell his sweat permeating the silken fabric, eyes scrunching closed as the pressure stretched his skin.

 

The canal seemed to relax, Stanley feeling the egg roll away from his ribs, slowly squeezing by his bladder. It felt relieving, the pressure ebbing away from his diaphragm and allowing him to properly breathe. He met resistance again, the narrow part of the object pressing against what the blonde could only surmise was some sort of primordial cervix. Xeno’s fingers were massaging at his legs, breathing quiet as Stanley caught his breath. His grip loosened on the bedsheets as he rested, the stretch easing to a satisfying burn as it rested inside his body. 

 

“Does it hurt?” Xeno breathed, prompting the blonde to open his eyes. He shook his head no.

 

“It’s like when -” Stanley cut himself off with a high groan as his muscles suddenly tightened around the egg, squeezing it like a tube of toothpaste. 

 

His head hit the pillows with a muted thump, spine arching as he involuntarily tightened around the ovate object. The blonde could faintly hear Xeno’s voice but it was drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears, the uncharacteristically high whines crawling from his throat. 

 

It felt good. Way too good. 

 

It felt like when Xeno would hit just right inside him, when his thin hand would forcibly arch his spine as he drove into him like his life depended on it. Except this wasn’t a rhythmic slide or even the massaging curl of his lithe fingerpads, it was an ever present, unrelenting pressure. He couldn’t breathe, his chest heaving but it felt like there was no oxygen filling his blood, feeling lightheaded as the damn thing rolled inside him like some devilish punishment. The ceiling was blurry in his vision, eyes wide as he felt tears build on his waterline, spilling over his feverish skin. His mouth was dry, lips chapped as he craned his neck back, trying desperately to draw air into his lungs. Every cell in his body was vibrating, heat pooling like hot honey in his gut as the sensation made his muscles tremble, his heartbeat skip. 

 

Xeno’s voice was calling to him as his chest continued to heave, his ears ringing as his hips jerked erratically like it was trying to dislodge the object pressing against his prostate. His veins were burning, nerves electric as he squeezed around the egg, the horrific realization blaring in his frontal lobe as hot fluid splattered on his torso, searing his sensitive flesh. 

 

Like a bowstring, his muscles snapped from their contracted state, his arched spine collapsing against the mattress. He licked his lips as his vision focused, abdomen relaxing as he felt the object breach through his primordial cervix, hips twitching as the widest part stretched the tissue to max capacity before there was a physical pop felt as it entered the vaginal canal. From there it slid easily, sliding along the lubricated channel to rest heavy in the final canal, the squeeze of his tissue making his abdominal muscles twitch. He blinked the tears from his eyes as he tucked his chin, looking at the concerned expression on Xeno’s face. 

 

There was white fluid drying on his sweaty chest, itching as Stanley tried to formulate words with his exhausted tongue. Xeno’s thick brows were pulled together, mouth agape as his fingers slackened where they held the blonde’s legs apart on the bed. His hair was slightly frizzy, the flush high on his pale cheeks as his eyes scanned Stanley’s exhausted expression. 

 

“It didn’t hurt,” the blonde joked, licking at his dry lips again. 

 

“I can see that,” Xeno replied, shifting slightly where he was kneeled between his muscular legs. “I am just surprised it felt that…”

 

“Good? Yeah me too,” Stanley sighed, watching the man shift again on the bed. He cocked an eyebrow as the man widened his knees, hips jerking as the visible bulge in his slacks twitched. “Looks like it felt good to you too.”

 

The flush on Xeno’s face deepened, the cherry red color a bright contrast to the muted silver of his hair. His mouth open and closed like a fish as Stanley laughed, hands untwisting from the bedsheet to push his frizzy hair away from his face. The egg was resting heavy in his abdomen but he ignored it, the weak spasms of his muscles telling him he had some time before there would be any movement. He awkwardly adjusted the pillows beneath his head before he spoke again. 

 

“What, seeing me get off untouched making you all hot and bothered?” 

 

“You are a very attractive man, anyone would find it…erotic.”

 

“Erotic?” Stanley grinned, barking a laugh at the glare shot his way, trim nails digging into his sweaty skin in retaliation. 

 

Xeno gave a light smack to his thigh before shuffling back, climbing off the bed. He gave a low whistle as the scientist started to unbutton his shirt, dropping it to the hardwood floor. Thin fingers undid his slacks button next, trembling as the garment fell to the floor, stepping out of it. Now only in his briefs and socks, the white haired man opened the top drawer of the nightstand, swiping the familiar half full plastic bottle of lube. 

 

“It’ll probably help to have this,” Xeno remarked, socked feet thumping as he climbed back on the bed between the blonde’s splayed legs. 

 

There was a wet noise as the clear gel was squirted onto his lithe fingers, Stanley watching as they slid between his thighs. The lube was a blessed contrast to the fever under his skin, Xeno’s index and middle fingers massaging the ring of muscles with a comfortable familiarity. 

 

“I’ll loosen you up so it can pass easier,” Xeno shifted, twisting his wrist to press the heel of his palm to Stanley’s swollen perineum. “I don’t want it to tear anything.”

 

He hummed in response, the scientist slipping between his legs as the tip of his index finger breached his entrance. Xeno’s free hand braced on the bed as he leaned over the blonde, white hair cascading down and curtaining them in their own private suite. He looked positively alluring, pale cheeks painted crimson, short black lashes fluttering, pink tongue lapping at thin chapped lips. Releasing the bedsheets, Stanley shakily wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, pulling him down into an off center kiss as his index finger sunk inside his feverish flesh. 

 

The slide of his chapped lips against his own was euphoric, breath hot as he clumsily lapped at the dry flesh. The white haired man reciprocated the embrace, finger pumping slowly inside him as he slid his tongue along Stanley’s, a moan filtering through his thin chest. He could feel the jostling of the egg inside him as the thin finger curled rhythmically, retreating to the tip before his middle finger wiggled beside it, easily breaching his lubricated hole. Xeno lapped at his teeth as the blonde moaned, the tips of his fingers pressing against the egg inside of him, the contact electric. His abused prostate was overly sensitive, every miniscule brush making his hips jerk up. 

 

The clothed erection that Xeno was touting was brushed against the flesh of his thigh with every jerk, the white haired man groaning lowly into his mouth. His thin fingers were grinding in response, curling up as he widened his knees, Stanley splaying his legs wide to allow the friction. Stanley’s lungs were burning as they continued to kiss, a moan trickling from his throat as they rocked against each other, the contrasting pressures making the egg roll against his exhausted prostate. Thin fingers were blocking the object from shifting down, each pump of Xeno’s fingers pressing the egg back up into his abdomen. Pleasure was simmering in Stanley’s bones, making every drag, every contact of their mouths tinging his mind with disparity. 

 

Their lips parted as they both caught their breath, Xeno kissing along his jaw as the blonde’s head tipped back, exposing the column of his neck to the bedroom air. He dug his nails into Xeno’s bony shoulders, red tiger stripes blooming on his scapula as the white haired man sucked a mark to his adam’s apple. The fingers inside him wiggled beneath the ovate object, pressing it forward, up toward his navel. His whole body flushed hot at the action, chest stuttering as Xeno marked a spit trail to his chest, pink tongue lapping at the sweat beading on his tan skin. 

 

“Xeno, fuck,” Stanley panted, watching his adept tongue lap at the drying cum on his chest. 

 

He hummed in response, short black lashes kissing his flushed cheeks as he laved his tongue across Stanley’s pectorals. His tongue flicked briefly at a hardened nipple before continuing their descent down, licking the filmy sheen from his tan skin. Xeno’s fingers were still massaging the egg up against the wall of his canal, Stanley’s dick twitching erratically with the stimulation. White hair was drooping, framing Xeno’s flushed expression as he drew his face away from the blonde’s flushed skin, saliva stringing down like silk as he turned his face up. His pupils were blown as his fingers sped up, a wet squelching sound echoing over their heavy breathing. Stanley released his shoulders, hands finding home gripping at the pillow beneath his head as the white haired man licked his kiss swollen lips. 

 

“You look beautiful,” Xeno breathed, vision skating across Stanley’s sweaty figure. He whined deep in his chest as thin fingers rolled the egg inside him. 

 

Stanley couldn’t formulate a coherent sentence, watching as a dollop of spit drooped like honey from Xeno’s lips, the hot fluid searing the tip of his dick like a brand. The man settled between his legs, face inches from his leaking length, fingers rolling and retreating slightly as Xeno adjusted onto his belly. Bracing on his free arm, the fingers pumped slowly as kiss swollen lips pressed warmly against his glans, cushiony soft. The blonde couldn’t help moaning pathetically, Xeno’s wet mouth engulfing the head, tongue lapping at his slit and coating the precum to the flesh of his cheeks. Xeno had his eyes scrunched shut, nose whistling as he descended, gagging slightly as the blonde’s hips jerked up, out of his control. He was convinced if he twisted the pillow beneath his head any tighter it would burst, covering the bedroom in down feathers. He tipped his head back as the slow pace began, the wet slide of Xeno’s lips making his nerves alight with ecstasy. His tongue was cushioning the slide, curling around the head with every pull back, tracing the veins with every descent.

 

Xeno was alternating the slide of his mouth over him with the pump of his fingers, every descent paired with the delicious pressure of the egg to his prostate, making stars dance across the blonde’s vision. The wet sound of his lips on him made the fever burn that much sweeter in his veins, releasing the pillow beneath his head to tangle his fingers in white locks. There was a low hum that vibrated against Stanley’s length in his mouth, making the blonde twist the hair tighter in his hold, pushing the man down to the base. Precum and saliva were easing every slide, the sticky sound making Stanley’s ears hot. He could feel himself in Xeno’s throat, the smaller man swallowing around him as the two fingers inside did a scissor motion, causing his legs to tremble as Stanley was catapulted to the precipice. Xeno opened his eyes as he swallowed again, spit dribbling from the seal of his lips as Stanley yanked at his scalp, forcing him into an unsteady bob of his head. 

 

The pace increased as each slide to the base of his dick caused the man to gag, the squelching sound making goosebumps alight on Stanley’s feverish skin. Thin fingers were retreating, the tips curling to press on the inside of his hole and stretch the ring of muscles before they slid out, lube leaking from his entrance as Xeno’s sticky hand wrapped around his thigh, his other mirroring the action. Now free of obstruction, he felt the egg inside him drop, abdomen tightening as he fucked Xeno’s throat, white hair knotted in his grasp. Hazy black eyes were watching him, lips red and stretched, pale skin splattered with saliva and precum. He couldn’t help the high moan that reverberated in his chest as Xeno resisted the pull of the blonde’s hands, swallowing around him as the egg was squeezed toward his entrance, driven by the spasming of his exhausted muscles. 

 

“Fuck, fuckfuck,” was all Stanley was able to enunciate as he felt the narrow part of the ovate object breach his hole. 

 

Xeno moaned in response, bobbing his head as the blonde trembled, hands holding onto his ratty hair like a lifeline. His sticky hand snaked across Stanley’s twitching hipbone, the palm flat as the man pushed down on his abdomen, right above the base of his length. The action caused the blonde’s hips to thrust forward, into the welcoming wet heat of Xeno’s mouth. He tipped his head back, spine arching off the bed as his bony hand pressed harder, forcibly pushing the egg further out. The pressure of his hand, the insistent slide of the man’s mouth over him, the satisfying stretch of his entrance was too much for Stanley, every muscle in his body contracting as his climax bulldozed into him. 

 

The wet squeeze of his mouth tightened as the blonde orgasmed, tongue cushioning the underside of his length to coax the thick fluid into Xeno’s waiting throat, swallowing. Stanley was making noises he didn’t think were possible, impossibly loud over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. It was at this point that his entrance was stretched to capacity, the widest part of the egg stuck as the blonde couldn’t find the strength to push it out. He didn’t need to, it seemed, as Xeno’s thin hand pressed harshly at his abdomen, looking up through short black lashes as the egg was forcibly pushed from his body. The stretch was intoxicating, the blonde feeling like he was being split in half as it slid through, not being able to help the full body shake. A wet suctioning sound was barely audible over the blonde’s high moaning, chest heaving as Xeno’s hot mouth finally retreated, cum stringing from thin lips as he pulled away. His hands in the white hair slackened, dropping like dead weight to the bed as they both caught their breath. Gathering his legs underneath him, Xeno’s tongue cleaned his red lips of residual cum and frothy saliva as he adjusted between Stanley’s trembling legs. He couldn’t focus his eyes very well, the edges blurry as he watched the other man pick up what had been pushed onto the sweaty sheets. 

 

The white object was only about four and a half inches long, given that Xeno could easily cup it with his hands, though it seemed wide, the blonde trying to organize enough brain cells to gauge its width. It was shiny, a wet type sheen as Xeno turned the object over in his hands, inspecting the pristine white shell. He blinked a couple times to focus his vision as Xeno shuffled back off the bed, egg in hand. Stanley felt positively debauched, his dick resting against his abdomen as his stomach twitched pathetically with the aftershocks of his climax. The blonde watched with muted curiosity as the other man walked into the bathroom, placing the egg in the sink before reentering the bedroom. There was still a prominent bulge in Xeno’s briefs, a dark wet mark on the front telling him that the scientist wasn’t done. 

 

Xeno made his way over to the bed, leaning over his sweaty figure to press a chaste kiss to Stanley’s dry lips. Shakily, his hand rose to cup at his slim jawline, deepening the kiss and gathering the taste of himself onto his tongue. He lapped at the flesh of Xeno’s cheeks as his briefs were pulled down, Stanley moaning as he caught the image of his flushed, red erection in his peripheral. His neck ached from craning it up, sliding his tongue against Xeno’s as the man clambered on top of him, thin hands pressing deep into the down pillow under the blonde’s head. Stanley could still taste the musky flavor of cum in the man’s mouth, moaning as the white haired man pressed his weeping dick against his own, quickly bringing it back to full hardness. 

 

The roll of his hips against Stanley’s made his fried nerves buzz, almost hurting as various bodily fluids eased the friction to a slippery, addicting grind. He wrapped his arms around Xeno’s torso, desperate for an anchor as the rocking began simmering the heat in his lower back again, entrance pulsing with each slide of their bodies against each other. Stanley sucked the saliva from the man’s mouth before they parted, lips a hair’s breadth away. 

 

“How do you feel,” Xeno whispered, voice scratchy from the earlier abuse. 

 

“Please,” Stanley pleaded, trying to meet the grind of the man’s thin hips. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was asking for, just knowing he wanted more. 

 

The white haired man smiled into the kiss, noses brushing as his hips dug deliciously into Stanley’s, the short jerky movements addicting. The man broke the embrace, shuffling out of reach of the blonde’s arms as he widened his muscular legs to find home between them. He moaned at the stretch, thin fingers pressing at the back of his knees to draw them up toward his chest. There was a slight curl in Stanley’s spine as he watched Xeno’s eyes lock onto his stretched hole, pink tongue swiping chapped lips. 

 

“I don’t even need to prep you again,” Xeno breathed, eyes still trained between his legs. 

 

Stanley gave a low moan in response, hands trembling as they found traction beside his head again. His throat felt dry, anticipation burning just beneath his skin as Xeno guided his flushed tip toward his hole, the feverish temperature making the blonde moan. Releasing the back of his knees, lithe fingers gripped at his ribs as he sunk inside, easily sliding to the base. Despite the earlier stretching, he felt incredibly full, thighs trembling where he had them locked around Xeno’s thin frame. He rested them on Xeno’s hips as the man tipped his head back, hips jerking as he split Stanley open. The pale spans of his throat and collarbone were angelic, glowing in the low light of the bedroom as he soaked in the heat pouring off the blonde’s insides. 

 

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” the man panted, tipping his face back down as his fingers dug crescent moon marks into the blonde’s ribs. 

 

He couldn’t formulate a response before the man slid out, leaving just the tip inside before thrusting forward, rocking the blonde against the bed. His spine arched with the thrust, mouth gaping as Xeno started a harsh pace, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the small bedroom. He curled his toes, dick drooling precum against his stomach as the white haired man drove into him, the slide of Xeno inside him making his brain turn to mush. It felt like there was molten silver in his veins, burning him from the inside out as Xeno aimed his length to rub against his over worked prostate. He writhed underneath the smaller man, not being able to help the drool spilling from his open mouth as the gland was driven into again and again. The wet sound of them moving against each other, the low moans reverberating from Xeno’s chest, the growing realization he was going to cum for the third time that night made Stanley’s head spin, every neuron prepping for the exhilarating feeling of his climax. He trembled as he felt Xeno adjust, a thin hand dragging to press against his abdomen, slowing his pace slightly.

 

There was a strange feeling that accompanied it, as the man’s hips rocked almost exploratarily inside him, the angle minisculy changing with each thrust. The head of his dick inside him dragged deliciously against his walls, making him let out breathy sounds with each snap of his hips. He couldn’t help the erratic jerking as the tip of Xeno’s length slid in…somewhere. Some foreign area of his body that Stanley couldn’t categorize, only a brief familiarity as the stretch of the man’s dick made the realization wash over him like an ocean wave. 

 

“Holy fuck,” Stanley cried out as Xeno’s hand pressed deeper on his stomach, angling that primitive canal to accept the intrusion. “Fuckfuck f-fuck!”

 

The man couldn’t do any deep thrusts but it didn’t matter, the minute rocking of Xeno’s length in the blonde’s newly formed vaginal canal making his head spin. Every fiber of his being was drowning in euphoria, eyes cracking open simply to watch Xeno drive into him like he was made for the purpose of fucking Stanley into a mindless pile of mush. White hair was curtaining his flushed face as he concentrated on angling into him, lips slightly parted as he panted indecipherable phrases into the air. The thin hand pressing on his stomach dug deeper, the heel of his palm twisting as Xeno’s length met yet another obstruction. This time, he simply pressed against the tight flesh, the head of his dick bruising Stanley’s insides. The rock of them against the bed sweetened the feeling as the man desperately drove inside of the blonde, the combining drag searing his visceral flesh.

 

“You feel good,” Xeno rasped, the harsh press of his tip against the blonde’s primitive cervix making him see stars. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

 

He gave a high whine in response as Xeno’s hips started jerking erratically, pressing deep into that foreign organ system, deeper than the blonde ever thought was possible. Now confident, thin hips retreated, a slick pop felt deep inside him as the man drew back, before thrusting harshly forward, guided by the pressing heel of his hand on Stanley’s stomach. The rapid stretch of his vaginal canal and the subsequent slamming of him against his cervix made the blonde arch off the bed, twisting the pillow beneath his head and tearing the thin pillow case apart. Spittle splattered his face at the continued bruising thrusts, Xeno loudly moaning every time he slammed against his tight, abused cervix. The repeated stretching of his vaginal canal, the slick pop that bounced across his internal tissues like a guitar string made the saliva in the back of his throat gurgle, the new sensations making him drunk off the feeling. 

 

“I’m close,” Xeno panted, pace faltering slightly as he continued to rock him against the bed.

 

His whole body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, not being able to brace himself as Stanley nodded, tongue trying to formulate some sort of agreement. The only thing that filtered from his throat was a mangled moan, the white haired man taking it as affirmation as he snapped his hips forward. Stanley could’ve sworn he felt the tip of his dick breach his cervix, hot cum searing his insides as Xeno released into him, the thick fluid clinging to his vaginal walls. The feeling of Xeno’s release pushed the blonde over the edge, a weak spurt of cum splattering on the man’s thin hand still pressing harshly against his abdomen, dick twitching pathetically. 

 

Stanley’s vision was slowly focusing as they sat flush against each other, the hand on his abdomen slowly releasing pressure. He felt his cervix relax with the loss of pressure, sucking in some of that hot fluid into his primordial uterus. That lack of guidance from the heel of his hand caused Xeno’s length to slip from his primitive reproductive tract, thick cum leaking into his ass and seep from where they were conjoined. Xeno was panting, pale skin gleaming with sweat as he skated his thin hands across the blonde’s oversensitive skin. He released the ripped pillowcase from the cage of his fingers, hands shaking as he intertwined their fingers together, sweat sticking them together like glue. The flush was still high on Xeno’s cheeks as they caught their breath, narrow chest heaving oxygen into his lungs. 

 

“I hope you don’t need a contraceptive,” Xeno joked, pink tongue licking chapped lips. 

 

Stanley weakly laughed, squeezing at his fingers as his strength slowly came back. He unlocked his legs around Xeno’s waist, flopping to the messy bed as he clenched down on the length still inside him, not willing to part just yet. The release pooling in his insides acted like a vacuum seal, the heat bleeding through his mucosal layer and seeping into his bones. 

 

“Just a little longer,” Stanley breathed as Xeno gave him a questioning look. “You feel good.”

 

Xeno hummed in response, shifting slightly to rest on his haunches as the sweat dried tight on their skin. He wasn’t sure how long they laid there, Stanley letting the warm feeling of the man inside him lull him into a daze, the satisfactory stretch tickling some carnal part of his mind. It was long enough for his sweaty scalp to start to itch, for Xeno’s crimson flush retreat from the apples of his cheeks. Still, he couldn’t help the whine in his throat as the man released their braided fingers, bracing on the bed beside Stanley’s hips to slowly pull out. His hole clenched around nothing as Xeno finally pulled out, viscous fluid dribbling from his entrance and staining the bedsheets. Unexpectedly, the white haired man didn’t shuffle off the bed to start cleaning the myriad of fluids from their bodies and furniture, instead climbing up to flop beside Stanley on the pillows. 

 

Rolling to his side, the blonde faced him on the bed as thin arms reached for him, looping around his sweaty body. His hair was staticky as he met Xeno’s chapped lips, the languid slide making him hum into his mouth. There was fluid still leaking from his hole as they continued to kiss, Xeno slinging a leg over Stanley’s hip as their lips slid against each other, the blonde wrapping his lithe body in his arms and trapping him in the embrace. 

 

Both of them were soft but it didn’t deter him, rocking against Xeno’s inguinal area as he sucked on his tongue, trying to draw his flavor into his own throat. He tried keeping his eyes open as he watched the man’s contented expression, black lashes kissing cheeks, brows drawn together in pleasure. Stanley’s eyes must’ve fluttered shut at some point, the warm slide of Xeno’s lips against his own, the warm press of their bodies together lulling the blonde into a dreamless sleep. 

 

=

 

Stanley had woken up from the surgery about an hour ago, though he only cracked his eyes open when he heard Xeno enter the small hospital room. The clinical lights were incredibly bright against his tired eyes, squinting as he watched the scientist flip through the papers on the clipboard in his hands. He was in his lab coat, hands free of their gloves as he scanned the documents. The white haired man noticed the blonde staring at him, setting the clipboard beside his exhausted body on the stiff hospital bed. A thin hand pushed his cowlick from his face before he sat down in the chair next to where Stanley laid. 

 

They had given the egg to the biological team to examine before the surgery, the scientists wasting no time in sticking various probes, scanners and pH tests against the white object. It had been about the size of a goose egg, the yolk inside infertile, a yellowy sludge-like fluid with little form. It had been opened up and the fluid stored for any future experiments where they wanted to rage against evolution.

 

“How are you feeling? No pain?” Xeno asked, fingers intertwining with one of Stanley’s lax hands. The question brought the blonde back to the present, to the small hospital room, the narrow bed.

 

“No pain,” Stanley shook his head, cottonmouthed as he looked at the concerned expression on the man’s face. 

 

The room smelled like cleaner, the scratchy hospital bedding making his skin itch as it rubbed against his bare legs. There was a tightness that was present in his belly button, like someone had tied it tight like a balloon. 

 

“Do I have a scar?” he asked, Xeno’s thumb rubbing at the back of his hand. “My abdomen feels weird.”

 

“No,” Xeno said, free hand grabbing the clipboard and angling it so the blonde could read the text. “The surgeon went through your navel, to prevent any complications with the sutures.”

 

“My belly button?” Stanley questioned, blinking his eyes rapidly as he peered down at the medical report. “Did they remove it all?”

 

“Yes,” Xeno flipped a page up so the blonde could continue reading. “They removed all the way to the rectal tract, so there is only going to be a small scar internally where they sewed it shut.”

 

“Damn,” Stanley huffed, eyes focusing on the surgery transcript. “They really removed everything, huh.”

 

His reading paused as he took in the final notes regarding the organs removed, raising his eyebrows at a particular note. He flicked his eyes up, Xeno’s gaze flitting around, unsuccessfully trying to avoid his gaze. 

 

“Bruising, huh,” the blonde huffed, squeezing at the hand in his. “Looks like you did a number on my guts.”

 

“Stop,” Xeno barked, hand tightening around Stanley’s as his free hand swiped the clipboard, tucking it beside him on the chair. “You are insufferable.”

 

“I’m not the one that went to town bruising my cervix,” the blonde teased, cheeks hurting from the wide grin. “How did you explain that one to the surgeon?”

 

“I’m going to have the nurse knock you out again if you don’t stop.”

 

“What, like how you didn’t stop inside of m-”

 

“Enough,” Xeno barked, yanking his hand free and smacking at Stanley’s chest. 

 

The blonde just laughed, eyes sliding shut as he rested back against the flattened pillow. Xeno’s contact retreated, the scientist shifting back to settle in the armchair. He couldn’t help dozing, the warm scent of Xeno’s cologne overpowering the stench of the hospital. The quiet murmuring of the scientist as he flipped through documents lulled Stanley back to sleep, dreams filled with images of thin hands and silver hair.

Notes:

- please do not perform biohacking, its incredibly dangerous.
- had to hop on the oviposition train...:P

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 17 of stanxeno