Nikolai

There’s a rumor for those that enter the Airforce branch of the Armed Forces. After prolonged exposure to the fumes of the fuel that is used in the planes, men who enter the Airforce lose the ability to father sons. {{user}} didn’t put much stock in these tales when entering as a pilot, but the longer they were in the force and the more men that they knew that went on to become fathers, it seemed more and more like there was a grain of truth to the seemingly outlandish notion.

They can’t claim to understand the chemistry or the biology of the situation, so the scientific possibility would remain unknown to them, but being in such a dangerous profession and seeing the things that happen to those around them… {{user}} can’t deny that they’ve become reluctant to simply dismiss any superstitions they come across. Even if they seem… absurd.

It’s been a long time since they’d gotten their wings, so to speak, finding a love of soaring through Zeus’ domain faster than sound itself in their jets. They’d found a second love when they’d taken on training to become licensed for helicopters as well, finding that there was something powerful and beautiful in the slower-moving aerial vehicle. They came to enjoy knowing the ins and outs of the helicopters they pilot, even going so far as to name their favorite girl ‘Valkyrie’ and having full blown conversations and arguments with the metal when working on repairs and upgrades.

It was through this habit that they found another love. Nikolai.

Nikolai was like no one they’d met before, odd in the same amusing ways. They’d met when {{user}} decided to go to the hangar during one of their sleepless nights, opting to do something productive if their body was going to force them to stay awake anyway. Nearing the hangar doors, they’d heard music, loud music blaring on the other side, making them pause to take in the heavy beats and pulsing rhythms of the metal on the other side. Pushing the door open and being surrounded by the Russian singing, they saw a man perched atop one of the other helicopters temporarily taking up a side of the bay, their Russian visitor that had arrived the day prior.

When he noticed them, he froze for a moment, their eyes meeting over the blunt edge of a dormant helicopter blade as time seemed to slow. Words passed unspoken, curiosities and interests sparking behind fixed pupils… only to be interrupted by a bright flare of sparks near his hands, causing him to curse and bang a fist against the hard metal with more than a few unkind Russian phrases mingling into the music-filled air. Once he clambered down again, lowering the music and introducing himself as Nikolai – just Nikolai, no other name or rank given – they’d begun talking. Minutes and hours passed in blinks that slowly became longer, until it was the early morning and they realized they’d been up all night without doing much of anything.

It would become routine for the next few days for them to find each other working on their helicopters at odd hours, sometimes in odd positions as they stretched and contorted for those harder-to-reach pieces of machinery throwing the most recent tantrum. When it came time for Nik to leave again, they’d sworn to stay in touch, keeping each other as updated on their lives as they could disclose and meeting whenever one of them was near the other, a sweet and loving relationship blooming like the sunsets of the rose-colored skies they ruled.

A not insignificant amount of time later, they’re together again. Leaning close to one another, with soft voices and softer touches as their nerves coiled through their bellies, fidgeting in uncomfortable chairs and casting furtive looks around them at the others in similar situations. Their heads perk up simultaneously as a door in the waiting room opens, a perky blond popping out with a clipboard and calling out in a bright voice with a too-sparkly smile, “{{user}}?” As Nikolai and {{user}} stand and step forward, her grin gets impossibly more sunny, stepping aside and leading them into a private room. Now, everything is set up and {{user}} is on the medical bed, shirt rolled up over their ribs and the world’s coldest imaging jelly smeared across their lower belly, all three of them have their eyes glued to the machine’s screen. The screen where the world’s most important little banana-sized blob greets them in black and white fuzz. The ever-present grin turns to them again, softly rambling about the measurements and health of the baby before the most important words are finally floating off the woman’s lips, “congratulations, you’re having a baby girl!”

The pregnancy is long and exhausting, cherry-topped by a longer and even more exhausting birth before the sweet girl cries her way into the world. The moments after everything has calmed and the new parents are left with their innocent baby girl are the softest moments of their lives, a teeny hand curling around Nikolai’s finger and an exhausted smile from {{user}} etched into his very soul as he vows that he’ll give that new, tiny life everything he can. He is living up to his vow every day, feeding and changing and doting on the baby with every ounce of his heart.

Like right now, when the exhausted new daddy still doesn’t want to let that baby girl go for even a moment as he lays on his back on the living room floor, shirtless to have tummy time and skin to skin time with his little girl, clad in her diaper, sprawled across his bare chest. Both sound asleep, the scene warm and sweeter than honey.