Time crawls when you're locked in a sterile white room with nothing but your thoughts. The clock on the wall mocks me with each tick, 12:30 already, and my stomach's starting to growl again. I've been sitting here twiddling my thumbs since Kate left after our makeout session, replaying those moments in my head like a favorite song on repeat.
The door slides open without warning, no knock this time. Kate glides in carrying another tray of food, her auburn braid swinging slightly with each step. My heart does that stupid little flutter thing it always does when she appears.
"Ready for lunch?" she asks, her voice melodic and warm.
"Yeah, definitely," I say, practically jumping to my feet. Not just for the food, though I'm starving, but for the human interaction. For her.
We head back to the table where we had breakfast, but this time Kate doesn't sit across from me. She slides into the chair right next to mine, close enough that I can smell that floral scent that drives me crazy. The proximity makes my pulse quicken.
"For lunch, I had the chefs make you a nice sandwich," she says, lifting the cover off the tray to reveal two perfectly crafted sandwiches, each sliced diagonally. "One for each of us."
"That sounds great," I reply, eyeing the food hungrily. It looks like some kind of gourmet creation, not the sad peanut butter and jellies my dad used to make when he was sober enough to remember we needed lunch.
Kate studies my face as I take my first bite. "You seemed stressed when I came in," she observes, her green eyes scanning me with that penetrating gaze that makes me feel like she can see right through me.
I swallow before answering. "Just bored out of my mind. There's nothing to really do in here."
She chuckles, the sound light and musical. "Eliza had taken away anything entertaining from you because you refused to cooperate."
"I sound like I used to be a bad apple," I say, trying to imagine myself as some kind of rebellious problem child.
Kate's expression softens. "You were. You just laid in bed all day, afraid and sad. Until yesterday, we thought you were a lost cause."
I take another bite of my sandwich, considering this information. The me from this world sounds pretty miserable. "Well, if I give more samples, can I have like a book or something?"
Kate stares at me, clearly trying not to laugh. "I'll do you one better," she says, leaning closer. "We had your two samples checked, and you, my lovely ward, are filled to the brim with strong swimmers."
"Strong swimmers?" I repeat, raising an eyebrow. "That's... good?"
"More than good," Kate says, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "It means your samples are prime quality. Top tier."
"Yay," I say flatly, unable to muster much excitement about my apparently stellar sperm count.
Kate tilts her head, studying me with those penetrating green eyes. "Why so glum? This is excellent news." She leans forward, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "In fact, at my recommendation today, they've approved you getting a suite on one of the higher floors."
That catches my attention. "Higher floors? Is that better or something?"
"Much better," Kate nods, her smile widening. "The higher you go, the more privileges you receive."
I take another bite of my sandwich, considering this information. "Will there be stuff to do up there? Books, entertainment, anything?"
Kate reaches across the table, her fingers brushing against my forearm. The simple touch sends electricity shooting through my veins. "Yes," she says, her voice warm with promise. "You'll have access to a television, a computer, any of those kinds of things." Her fingers trace small circles on my skin. "And if you keep working hard, I can get you an even better room with a pool and all sorts of amenities."
"Wow," I say, genuinely impressed now. A pool sounds amazing after being stuck in this sterile white box.
Kate's smile turns playful, almost mischievous. "I could even join you for a swim sometime, if you'd like."
The mental image of Kate in a swimsuit hits me like a freight train. My mouth goes dry as I picture water droplets sliding down her freckled skin, her auburn hair darkened and slick against her shoulders.
"I'd like that," I manage to say, my voice embarrassingly husky.
Kate's expression shifts as she takes a delicate sip of water. Her eyes never leave mine as she sets the glass down with practiced precision.
"There are certain protocols you should be aware of," she says, her voice taking on that professional tone again. "For optimal results, the Department requires consistent daily reproductive donations."
I nod, taking another bite of my sandwich. "That doesn't sound difficult."
"There's more," Kate continues, her fingers still tracing patterns on my arm. "If you truly wish to maximize your living conditions and privileges, the Department strongly encourages direct reproductive coupling with compatible female candidates."
I nearly choke on my sandwich. "What?"
Kate's expression remains perfectly composed as she explains, "Our highest-performing male contributors currently provide one laboratory sample daily, while engaging in reproductive intercourse five days per week with genetically approved female partners of their selection."
My heart hammers against my ribs. "You mean I'm supposed to... with other women?"
"Indeed," Kate nods, her professional demeanor never slipping despite the intimate subject matter. "While artificial insemination using collected samples is certainly effective, our research indicates that natural reproductive coupling increases the probability of male offspring by approximately 3.7 percent."
She leans closer, her breath warm against my ear. "Though statistically modest, this margin is significant enough that the Department of Fertility has been actively promoting increased frequency of direct reproductive contact."
I set down my sandwich, my appetite suddenly gone. The thought of being with other women feels wrong somehow, especially after what just happened between Kate and me this morning.
"But what about..." I gesture vaguely between us, unable to find the right words.
Kate's expression softens, understanding flickering in her eyes. "Our personal arrangement remains intact," she assures me, her hand now resting fully on mine. "But you must understand, Tyler. Your genetic material is incredibly valuable. The continuation of our species depends on men like you."
"Won't you get jealous?" I blurt out.
Kate tilts her head, her auburn braid sliding over one shoulder. Her expression turns thoughtful as she considers my question, eyes never leaving mine.
"This is simply how the world functions, Tyler," she says carefully, each word measured and deliberate.
Her answer feels rehearsed, professional, but I catch something flickering behind her eyes, a shadow that doesn't match her composed exterior. There's more there than she's admitting, but I don't push it.
Instead, I gather my courage and ask the question that's been burning in my mind since our earlier encounter.
"Could my first time still be with you?" My voice cracks embarrassingly on the last word, betraying my nervousness.
"Yes," she says softly, her professional facade cracking just enough to reveal something warmer beneath. "And actually, about that..." She leans forward, lowering her voice despite us being alone. "The Council has officially approved our genetic pairing today."
I break eye contact, suddenly unable to meet her intense gaze. A confusing mixture of embarrassment and excitement floods through me, heating my face and making my heart pound against my ribs like it's trying to escape. The clinical words don't diminish the reality of what she's saying, Kate and I will be engaging in the most intimate act possible, and soon.
"I…" Words fail me completely. My mind races with a thousand thoughts, none of them coherent enough to vocalize.
"Are you alright, Tyler?" Kate asks, concern evident in her voice. Her hand reaches out, fingers gently tilting my chin up until I'm forced to look at her again. "We don't have to proceed with the pairing if you're uncomfortable."
"No!" I say too quickly, too loudly. "I mean, no, I'm not uncomfortable. I'm just..." I struggle to find the right words. "Processing."
A smile spreads across Kate's face, warm and genuine. "I understand. It's a significant milestone for the both of us." Her thumb brushes across my bottom lip.
"Can we do it right now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Kate's eyes widen slightly, and she withdraws her hand. "Not yet," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "Once we get to our new room."
"Our?" I repeat, the word catching me off guard.
She doesn't respond, just continues staring at me with those intense green eyes, something unreadable flickering behind them. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken possibilities.
Finally, I clear my throat, deciding to ask something else that's been nagging at me since our earlier conversation about sample collection.
"What if I want to produce more than just once or twice a day?" I ask, heat rising to my cheeks. "Is that allowed?"
Kate's eyebrows shoot up, genuine surprise crossing her features. "I've never heard of a man able to produce more than two samples in a day," she says, studying me with renewed interest.
I shift in my seat, emboldened by her reaction. "So as long as I can keep up with my required numbers, could we maybe... fuck more than once?"
"Language, Tyler," Kate admonishes, though her lips twitch as she tries not to laugh. But then her expression shifts, concern replacing amusement as she leans closer.
"Semen cannot be wasted," she says, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "It's illegal... I'm not sure what you'd be allowed to do if you wanted to... unload more..."
Her voice trails off, and for the first time since I've met her, Kate Flynn looks genuinely lost, like she's confronting a scenario she's never considered before.
"Would it be considered a waste if I was just using it to try and impregnate you harder?"
Kate freezes, her fork suspended halfway to her mouth. I watch as several emotions flash across her face in rapid succession, shock, confusion, and something that looks suspiciously like desire.
She sets her fork down with deliberate care, her freckled cheeks flushing a deep pink. "I..." she starts, then stops, seemingly at a loss for words. Kate Flynn, speechless. That's definitely a first.
"I honestly don't know," she finally admits, her voice barely above a whisper.
I lean closer, close enough to catch the subtle floral scent of her perfume, and lower my voice.
"I want to do it with you a lot, Kate," I whisper, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Not just once. Not just twice. A lot."
Her blush deepens, spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath the white collar of her uniform. She blinks rapidly, her composure visibly cracking as she shifts in her seat.
"You really do like me a lot, huh?" she asks, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.
"Yeah." I answer simply, honestly. There's no point in playing games anymore.
Kate laughs again, but this time it's softer, almost musical. "Well, perhaps with a liberal view of the code of conduct..." she begins, then abruptly stops herself, glancing toward the door as if worried someone might overhear.
She takes a deep breath, composing herself. "Just don't worry about this for now, alright?" Her hand reaches across the table to squeeze mine gently. "We'll figure it out once we're settled in our new quarters."
I nod, satisfied for the moment. The way she said "our" quarters again sends a thrill through me that I can't quite suppress.
"When do we move?" I ask, picking up my sandwich again, suddenly ravenous.
"When you finish eating."