Subspace/Medkit (1,059 words)
[oneshot includes (trans)mpreg, near death experience, blood loss, and vague descriptions of childbirth. (and vaguely implied s3x)
Subspace didnât want the company. At all. And yet here he was, in his house, being followed everywhere by the one supposed to be his sworn enemy.
Heâd let it slip to Medkit during a phight that he was pregnant. And it was Medkits; heâd been intending to just hide the whole thing from him, but he panicked and it slipped out as he demanded the other to help him up from a ledge. After that, Medkit requested a vacation, one long enough for him to stick around and keep an eye on Subspace who he thought would end up getting himself killed by overworking himself and falling asleep in the lab due to the fatigue pregnancy can cause.
That was six months ago. Subspace had since been completely banned from his lab. HIS. LAB. He was rightfully pissed at Medkit about that. Though, he could see why the other decided that. He would turn around in the kitchen and knock over something on the table with his stomach, occasionally staining the thick fur there dark brown if it was Medkits coffee, or pale green from the weird smoothies he made for Subspace.Â
Subspace did NOT like the whole pregnancy thing. He didnât even know what made him want to keep it! Maybe it was the idea of having someone to love, or someone who would look up to him.
He found himself holding his stomach a lot. And, he wouldnât like to admit it, but lately he was also taking Medkits blankets and swap them for different ones so he can add them to his nest. Or whatever Medkit called it. To Subspace it was just a pile of pillows, blankets, and some of Medkits shirts. It was getting harder to maintain the nest now that Subspace was nearly due.
âŠSubspace found himself not willing to let Medkit know of the unrelenting, almost instinctual, feeling of impending doom settling over him as his due date approached. He knew that complications were possible, very possible. He justâŠ. Didnât want the other to worry. Though, him constantly asking Medkit if heâd take the cub if something happened to him wasnât hiding his anxiety.
ââ
âSubspace. You need to rest. Not try and cook dinner, I can do it.â
âLet me do it, Meddy! Iâm perfectly capable of making myself a meal!â
â..Youâll only make yourself ache more, but fine. Do as you wish. Just donât complain to me when your back and hips hurt in a few hours.â
The two were having yet another spat. Though, it was mostly Subspace snapping back to any comments or concerns Medkit had while making dinner. He hadnât sat down in half an hour, and it was part of why he was so irritable besides hormones. Subspaces thin, black to pink, tail had been wrapped around his leg the whole time too. It did that subconsciously during moments of anxiety, like how Medkits ears or tail flicked.
Subspace hoped their cub looked more like Medkit. He liked that the other had some deer traits, they were pretty on him. Though he wouldnât say that to Medkits face unless forced to, it was embarrassing.Â
He hated that he felt something for Medkit deep down. Theyâre sworn enemies. Sure, they occasionally did stuff that usually partners only did, but they still despised each other. Itâs complicated between them. If they werenât fighting, they were avoiding each other, or rarely in a dingy hotel or even a hidden alley way doing whatever.
ââ
When the time came, Medkit wasnât around. As much as Subspace wanted him gone for the last seven months, he wanted him somewhere close now. Or even inside his nest. Because dammit, his hips and back hurt worse than anything he couldâve imagined. Every time a pain came by, it tore through him like a sword would.
âŠhe spent hours like that, alone and groaning, barely keeping himself from shouting, until the cub arrived. Coincidentally just as Medkit barged into the room looking like heâd ran a marathon, Subspace was bringing the cub to his chest. Which had grown quite a lot of fur over the last few months, and made his chest more noticeable. He didnât care much that his chest was more obvious, itâd return to normal after the cub was weaned.Â
..The deep feeling of dread and impending doom returned, but this time Medkit noticed.
âSubspace, are youââ
â..something feels wrong, MeddyâŠâ
The words barely got out before Subspace went limp and unconscious, leaving Medkit standing next to the bed horrified, and staring at the large pool of blood beneath Subspace and on the fur of his thighs. Subspace hadnât noticed the bleeding, as he was more focused on his cub being okay.
Speaking of the cub, Subspace had named him a week earlier. Heâd picked out the name âBullet.â He liked how it sounded. The little guy was also currently gripping Subspace fur and refusing to let goâ somehow figuring out how to bite the hand of his panicked father before anything else.
ââ
Medkit tried his best to get Subspace at least to stop bleeding, which apparently was caused by the cubs horns being sharper than the usual newborns. Which, was probably because he was a week late, and Subspace being too stubborn to be induced.Â
Thankfully, the scientist woke up an hour later, groggy and asking where his baby was before noticing him whining on his chest and moving around a bit. Subspace noticed the vibrant purple blanket wrapped around the cub, and adjusted it to hide the cub so he could feed it without Medkit looking. Not that Medkit /would/ look. But he did wrap his arms around Subspace once the blanket was draped across him and the cub.
Subspace refused to admit heâd made Medkit worry, telling the other that he was âclearly fineâ despite looking half dead with blood all over his legs and nest. But he did let the other sleep in the nest with him and the cub afterwards. As they were under a temporary alliance, with the cub and all. Who Subspace was internally happy about looking more like his father than himself. Though Medkit noticed that he was, he didnât let Subspace know, however.
Didnât even tease or mock him about it. Though he did jokingly say heâd hoped Bullet looked more like Subspace.
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[Art for this from my main blog below, for shirtless subspace]