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Rex is the first of your friend group to have a child, but he doesn’t yet consider himself a father.
You’re not surprised, considering how eager he is to donate his genes to the ever-growing numbers in the creche. You aren’t really meant to know which child is ‘his,’ but you recognized their mismatched eyes the first time their mother dropped them off in the infant room.
You love the children all the same. You’re happy to be an Auntie to all the kids in the colony, regardless of relation, and Rex is happy to join you.
You mostly work the night shifts at the creche. You like spending your evenings with Rex, putting the kids to bed, making sure they actually sleep instead of wandering around as the older ones are prone to do. You always take naps earlier in the day to stay alert, and though Rex isn’t often so responsible, he’s plenty energetic regardless.
One night, while Rex busies himself with tidying up the playroom, you run one last check over the kids— you have to keep a careful eye on the toddlers who have just transitioned out of their cribs. You linger by Rex’s kid, the one with his eyes… and you find yourself wondering what kind of person your genetics might make.
You’d discussed it with Rex once or twice, closer to the start of your friendship. You always liked the idea of having a child, bringing life into the world, but you hadn’t considered specifics. Rex was never specific about it, either… in fact, neither of you were very specific about anything. You’d never planned to live together, to ‘settle down’ in any sense; you just fell into a comfortable domesticity together, taking care of each other while maintaining your independence among other relationships.
You’re happy as you are, but you wouldn’t mind a change. You don’t know if Rex would ever want a kid in your living quarters.
“He’s cute, huh?”
It’s barely a whisper, but it still makes you jump. Rex steps up behind you, resting a hand on the small of your back while he mouths the word ‘sorry.’
You smile and shake your head before you lead him out of the room, away from the sleeping children you do not want to wake up.
“He’s very cute,” you say once you’re out of earshot. “Just like you.”
“Aw, shucks,” Rex says with a wave of his hand, but you knew he was setting up to make a similar comment himself. You’ve gotten better and better at beating him to it.
The two of you settle on the couch in the main room, where some holovids will (hopefully) keep you awake for the night. But before you start watching, you turn to Rex and ask, “Do you think you’ll have any more?”
Rex tilts his head, his ears perking up in the way they always do when you’ve caught his interest. “Why not?” he asks. “The more the merrier, right? Plus, as we’ve established, I have some great genetics.” He winks, and you smile.
You’re not sure why you’re nervous to share your own thoughts. You’ve never had a conversation about your relationship end poorly; whether it’s conflict in need of a resolution, introducing other partners, trying new kinks, anything. Rex is always willing to hear you out, and more than happy to indulge… or hear about your escapades with others, in cases where he can’t. But this seems like a step further, unlike anything you’ve discussed in-depth before—
“Something on your mind?” Rex asks, nudging your knee with his own.
There’s no hiding it when he can read you like a book.
“Yeah,” you admit. “I was thinking… I might be ready to have my own kid.”
Rex’s face lights up.
“Yeah?” he asks. “That’d be awesome! I’m sure you’d make some super cute babies, too. And I bet they’ll be best friends with my kids, since it’s, like, built into their DNA to like each other.”
You can’t help but laugh at the thought, but you don’t have the heart to explain that’s not really how DNA works. “Well, I was thinking about… us having a kid together,” you continued, “Raising them in our living quarters. Together.”
Rex’s smile only brightens. If he had a tail, you’re sure it would be wagging. “I’d love that,” he said. “Can we talk about it more in the morning?”
You like that about Rex: he’s impulsive at times, but when it comes to serious matters, he puts a lot of thought into things. And he’s right… the conversation is much better suited when you’re truly alone, not the sole adults responsible for a horde of sleeping children.
So you cuddle up beside him and watch your favorite old Earth movies until the morning shift arrives to wake the kids.
You’ve always known having your own kid was a pretty big deal, but you hadn’t considered how many variables there would be until you start discussing it.
Although neither of you are required to carry the child, you both like the idea of being involved in the whole process. Briefly, Rex considers the procedures necessary to carry the baby himself… and then you remind him how sad he gets when he’s sick. If he can’t be active on a regular basis, he’s miserable, and that’s not fun for anyone. As many advancements as your species has made with pregnancy, you are growing a whole new person inside of you, and you’ve seen firsthand how that can take a toll on the energy levels.
Considering you already have most of the necessary… equipment, so to speak, you decide you’ll be the one to carry the pregnancy.
“I can’t believe we’re gonna make a whole new person together,” Rex says, giddy as he places a hand on your stomach. “We’d better get started, huh?” He waggles his eyebrows, and it takes you a second to realize what he’s even talking about.
“You know we… can’t do it the old-fashioned way, right?” you ask with a laugh. Key word, ‘most’ of the necessary equipment. “We have to go to the medbay, like everyone else.”
“I know, I know.” Rex snickers. “But… that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun first, right?”
Well… you can’t argue with that.