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After the initial excitement of learning that he was finally pregnant, Gyro began to feel a bit of trepidation. Hoping that he was doing everything right to make a healthy egg. He grew especially anxious on the day of his first ultrasound appointment, dreading that something troubling would be discovered.
Fortunately, the ultrasound proved that everything was normal. However, to Mark’s delight and Gyro’s shock, it also revealed not one but two eggs inside of him.
“This is great! I can name one and you can name the other!” Mark said as they made their way through the hospital doors and to the awaiting limo. One of Mark’s bodyguards, a stoic scarlet macaw, left the couple’s side to open the car door for them. “Mark Jr. and Sprocket! Or Rivet! Or Axle!”
“Hm.”
“Oh man, I wonder if we’ll have a boy and a girl! A chicken and a parrot! Or two chickens or two parrots, two girls or-”
As they slid into the back of the limo, Mark noticed Gyro’s lack of enthusiasm. The scientist had folded his arms across his chest, and his expression was blank and unreadable. The envelope containing the ultrasound image dangled loosely in his grip.
“You okay, homeslice?”
“I’m just... hm. Taking it all in.”
Countless questions buzzed in Mark’s head. How could his husband be anything less than thrilled? Double the chicks, double the adorable pictures they’d take! Plus, they’d have more kids than the Gizmo family! Although Mark was in good standing with Fenton, Gandra, and their little brood, he couldn’t help feeling smug about this fact.
Wanting to see his future nuggets again, Mark gently took the envelope from Gyro’s hand, whispering a quiet “Yoink!”. His carefully slipped the picture out. Though the embryos wouldn’t be visible until several days after egg laying, the developing yolks stood stark in the otherwise dark, grainy image.
Mark grinned. He held the picture up, leaned towards Gyro, and, with his other hand, took out a phone- one modified to have no internet connectivity, strictly for private use.
“You could stand to look a little more excited, egg-daddy,” Mark said through his smile. He hadn’t taken a picture yet, with Gyro’s pensive gaze not being particularly photogenic.
Gyro sneered. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one burdened with carrying these things.”
Mark’s brows knitted in confusion. “Okay, is this, like, some weird hormone thing? We’ve been trying for a long-ass time! You were so happy! Does having two really change things that much?”
Gyro rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “We were trying for one . I didn’t...” He breathed out an exasperated sigh. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Not really, no.”
“I’m going to get big, Mark!”
“Yeah...” he said dreamily.
Gyro huffed in annoyance. “Not only that, but the risks are higher. Not just for me, but for... the eggs.”
“Well, you’ve been taking great care of yourself, and we can afford the best medical care. You’ll be fine, Gyro! We got this!”
Mark’s encouraging words did little to quell his husband’s concerns. Gyro glanced at the ultrasound photo and then towards his middle. Though not visibly showing yet, the weight of the developing eggs inside of him was palpable. The reality of what he’d done to himself- what was happening and is going to happen to his body, and how his life would change forever- fully dawned on Gyro.
He leaned forward so far that his beak nearly dipped to his knees. He then reached beneath the seat to press a button, which produced a paper bag from a hidden compartment. Gyro snatched the bag and promptly threw up into it. He felt Mark rubbing small circles on his back, an impressive feat for the squeamish parrot. A few moments later, Gyro blearily rolled up the bag and discarded it into an underseat chute- only to groan and summon a fresh bag to empty his stomach contents into.
“Wanna stop somewhere?” Mark asked, his head turned away.
“Nope,” Gyro hoarsely replied. He barely registered the sound of a few clacks, followed by Mark offering him a paper cup filled with water. He breathed deeply for a few moments before taking the cup, swishing the water in his mouth, then spitting it into the bag. Gyro then proceeded to lay on his side, curled his long legs onto the seat, and pulled his vest over his head.
“This’ll help,” Mark said. He inputted a command that tinted the windows and darkened the interior.
“Thanks.”
“No prob. Listen, when we get back... and after you feel better... I really think we should look up a nest guru.”
Gyro responded with a combination between a hiss and an “ugh”. Mark wasn’t sure if it was due to his queasiness or the prospect of having to see another specialist so soon. They’d only just gotten used to the idea of becoming expecting parents. While the couple invested a lot of energy into the act of eggmaking, they neglected to address any plans beyond that.
Mark sighed. He reached beneath Gyro’s vest to stroke his neck feathers, hoping the small gesture gave him some comfort. Mark still held the ultrasound photo in his other hand. He looked at it fondly, feeling a flutter of giddyness in his chest.
It’s really happening!
For the what may have been the tenth time this morning, Dr. Calla Reed rearranged the myriad of potted succulents decorating her office. Living in Duckburg, much of the muscovy duck’s clientele were fairly affluent- though she was always happy to offer her expertise to the less privileged for a pay cut. In less than an hour, Dr. Reed would be meeting with her highest-profile clients yet. A fact which contributed to her frayed nerves.
As the minutes ticked down to the anticipated appointment time, Dr. Reed calmly poured herself a cup of herbal tea. She then strode to one of her office windows to survey the city skyline. Just down the street, plastered on a faded billboard, loomed the visage of Mark Beaks. It had been there for years, even before she opened her practice. Though not one to follow the activities of celebrities, it would be impossible for anyone to remain ignorant of Beaks’s blatant public antics. This city certainly had an abundance of eccentric people with too much wealth and power.
Reed admitted to herself that she hadn’t recalled Beaks pulling any stunts in the last several years. Perhaps owing to his union to another infamous person. Her main priority.
Dr. Gyro Gearloose, 46 years old, trans male. Inventor and head scientist of McDuck Enterprises. Expecting two eggs, with an estimation of being one month along. No prior history of carrying and laying.
Though not as famous as his husband, the Gearloose name sounded familiar enough to Reed that she knew him to be a prominent figure. Still, the inventor’s reputation was far less important to her than his current condition.
“They are just people,” Reed said aloud. She glanced at a nearby shelf, which displayed a model depicting the cross-section of a fertile egg. “We all share the same origin. And my service was chosen for a reason.”
At last, Dr. Reed was notified of their arrival. Wearing a confident smile on her freckled beak, she opened the office door to welcome them in.
“Good morning, Dr. Gearloose, Mr. Beaks. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Like most ducks, Dr. Reed had a relatively short stature, so she was accustomed to most of the population being taller than she. Even so, the lanky chicken practically towered over her.
“Likewise,” came Gyro’s flat reply. He did offer Reed a firm handshake though, unlike Mark, who just gave a little wave instead.
“Nice digs, Reedy.”
“It’s Dr. Reed.” Already she was finding it difficult to put aside any prior assumptions about this man. “Please, have a seat.”
As she led them to a burgundy sofa, Mark stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing a statue. Carved from solid dark wood and standing at about waist-height stood a curvaceous parrot, its round belly and ample breasts indicating pregnancy.
“Check it out, GG, that’s gonna be you in a month!”
“You wish,” Gyro said, rolling his eyes but seeming otherwise amused.
Seeing their familiar banter eased Dr. Reed’s nerves. As Mark joined Gyro on the couch, Dr. Reed took a seat in a rolling chair, clipboard in hand.
“So, have you made a nesting plan?”
Mark spoke up. “We were kinda hoping you’d be the one to-”
“I intend to lay at home,” Gyro cut in. Though his tone was resolute, his crossed arms and bouncing leg said otherwise.
“That’s an excellent choice,” Dr. Reed said. “Of course, with your age and this being your first clutch, there are certain issues that need to be addressed.”
“He’s done his kegals!” Mark piped up. Gyro shot him a sour look, though Dr. Reed appeared pleased as she wrote this information down.
“Strengthening the pelvic floor muscles is beneficial, yes. I’ll provide additional information on other excercises you can do during the physical exam later.”
Gyro bolted upright. “I just had a physical exam! Recently!”
“Gyro, c’mon...”
“It is not necessary,” he stated defiantly.
Dr. Reed blinked, taken aback by Gyro’s outburst. “I can postpone the physical assessment until the home visit, if that’s more favorable to you. To put it bluntly, I need to become familiar with who I’m working with.” She smiled kindly, but Gyro’s aloof glower remained. She cleared her throat. “If I may ask, do you have medical-related trauma that I need to be aware of?”
Gyro answered with an exasperated “No.” Mark placed a hand on his husband’s knee. Gyro huffed out a sigh, but remained tense.
Mark turned to Reed with a strained smile. “Sorry, Doc, he just gets like this sometimes.”
“Gets like what, Marcus?”
Mark looked like he wanted to argue, but just slumped in defeat, muttering something under his breath.
Dr. Reed tapped a pen against her beak, debating on how to choose her words. “I apologize if I came off as invasive or made you uncomfortable in any way. But the bottom line is, you are bringing new life into this world. My duty as a professional nest guru is to use my knowledge and expertise to support in every way that I can. Which entails forming a thorough bond with the parents during this exciting yet frightful time.”
The last statement seemed to grab Gyro’s attention. He placed a hand atop Mark’s, which still lay on his knee.
“Before we proceed with figuring out a schedule that works for you, do you have any questions? Concerns? Anything at all you’d like to discuss?”
Gyro fidgeted and averted eye contact, yet said nothing.
“Then in that case, we can-”
“Fuck.”
“I... beg your pardon?”
Gyro pressed his fingers to the bridge of his beak. The sunlight glinted off his glasses. “I... sorry... damn.” His voice cracked and he covered his eyes in his free hand, shoulders shaking.
“Tissues?” Mark asked Dr. Reed, who was already in the process of finding a box.
It was evident that Gyro did not like bringing attention to himself when he cried. He stifled his sobs as he rubbed the tissues onto his eyes, adamant to not reveal any tears. Mark silently held Gyro’s hand in his.
“I can get you something to drink,” Dr. Reed offered.
“Is there Pep?” Gyro asked in a wavering voice. Mark snorted a supressed laugh.
“I have ginger ale, if that’s fine.”
Gyro sniffed. “That is an acceptable substitute. Thank you.”
Dr. Reed retrieved a can of ginger ale from a mini fridge. As Gyro sipped the soda, he shifted ever so slightly towards Mark, who wrapped an arm around his waist.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Reed gently asked.
Gyro rubbed the soda can, the condensation dampening the short feathers on his fingers. “I feel. Hrm. Well.”
“Hey, G,” Mark whispered. He reached into Gyro’s vest pocket and chirped out a whistle. Gyro perked up as if remembering something. He handed Mark the ginger ale and pulled a stack of index cards from his pocket. Mark grinned, looking both smug and relieved. Gyro scrutinized his notes. He frowned at one card before shuffling it to the back of the pile. Dr. Reed waited patiently, glad that they had the foresight to bring index cards.
“I am experiencing contradictory thoughts,” Gyro said in a stilted tone. “I also feel foolish and a bit scar- apprehensive.”
“Would you like to elaborate?”
Gyro made a non-commital hum as he stiffly rummaged through the cards again. Reed wondered if he was more grounding himself than referencing them. After several seconds he continued.
“This may sound asinine, but when I had the ultrasound, it suddenly became real to me. The fact that I’m having more than one. Seeing them. Feeling them. In a few months they’ll be here. And then the half-year wait for the end result.”
“But it’ll all be worth it when we meet our cute little chicks!” Mark beamed.
Gyro couldn’t help a brief smile at his husband’s enthusiasm. His expression turned grave again. “But I don’t think I’ll feel relief until then. So much could go wrong.” He twisted one of the cards. “They can... something can be wrong with them. The chicks.”
“That is a possibility you two may need to prepare for,” Dr. Reed said. “But for now, let’s focus on your well-being.”
“Yeah, stress is bad for the babies,” said Mark.
“Mr. Beaks,” Reed addressed him more harshly than she intended. “I’m glad that you’re excited. But let me reiterate; your husband is experiencing a major change right now. The next two months are crucial. He is going to need your utmost support and care.”
“You think I can’t care about both my husband and our future babies, Reedy ?” Mark challenged, leaning foreward and drumming the ginger ale can.
Dr. Reed could feel the red flesh around her eyes heat up. “You absolutely care. And I know you want what’s best for your family. Trust me, I’m on your side.” She took a concentrated breath, steeling herself. “But as you can probably see, Gyro’s feelings towards this pregnancy doesn't always match yours. It's important that you make an effort to understand why. Deflecting his genuine concerns with optimism doesn't erase their validity, or the emotional toll they may take on him. Does that make sense to you?”
“Yeah it... yeah. It does,” Mark murmered. With his bristled feathers, he still didn’t seem completely placated. Gyro fixed that by nonchalantly stroking the parrot’s cheek, making his feathers puff out for a different reason. It was rare for the chicken to show even a small amount of physical affection in public.
“Thank you, Dr. Reed,” Gyro said. “There is, in fact, something else I’d like to mention.”
“What is it, babe?” Mark hastiliy asked before Dr. Reed could say anything.
He winced. “Laying is going to hurt.”
“Oooh, yeah...”
The duck gave a reassuring nod. “Minimizng the pain associated with laying is my forte”
Gyro looked Dr. Reed directly in the eyes. “You are the first person I’ve ever met to pronounce that correctly.”
Dr. Reed chuckled. Though Gyro had expressed only a fraction of his concerns, his mood seemed to have lifted.
They then delved into discussing the nesting plan. Dr. Reed would be visiting bi-weekly to check on how the pregnancy was progressing, then she’d become completely available once the eggs fully developed their shells. Mark even asked about having her stay at their home, a sure sign that he was serious about accommodating his gravid husband.
“Boyd’s gonna love having a visitor,” Mark mused as the meeting wrapped up.
“And Boyd is...?”
“Our son,” the expecting couple said in unison. They both were amused by Dr. Reed’s baffled expression.
“He is a robot I built years ago,” Gyro clarified.
“But he looks and acts just like any other little kid!” Mark fished out his phone but then stopped. “Oh, Gyro, are you ok with her seeing our engagement selfie?”
After Gyro gave an uncharacteristic thumbs up, Mark gleefully showed Dr. Reed one of his favorite pictures. Dressed in casual attire and standing before a beautiful ocean sunset was Mark and Gyro, with a young boy sandwiched inbetween them, making a victory sign with his fingers. Mark was correct in Boyd appearing instindinguishable from any other small child. In fact, the grey parrot looked strikingly like him. Dr. Reed assumed that he was built that way intentionally.
“He’s adorable,” Reed smiled. “You three certainly make a wonderful family. Have you told Boyd that he’s going to become a big brother?”
“We have,” Gyro said wistfully.
Mark stashed the phone away. “We’re not sure when we’re gonna let anyone else know.”
“It’s up to you to decide when the time is right.” The duck gathered up a small stack of papers, sliding them into an accordian folder and handing it to Gyro. “Well, gentlemen, I believe we covered everything we need to for today. I’ll see you this upcoming Friday at noon. But feel free to contact me anytime before then.”
The moment her clients left, Dr. Reed breathed out a relieved sigh, running a hand through her choppy black hair. While far from the most difficult people she dealt with, their status added an extra layer of pressure to the meeting. All things considered, she figured that everything went pretty well.
“I need a treat.”
She approached her desk, opened one of the drawers, and pulled out a package of dark chocolate covered coffee beans. As she indulged in her snack, she glanced out the window, once again meeting Mark Beaks’s sun-bleached billboard image. It appeared so much more youthful than the man she just met. Though a bit boneheaded and more than a tad irritating, Dr. Reed saw a different side to the tech CEO today. Someone more human, someone who genuinely loved his little family. His very interesting little family.
A robot son. So that old rumor was true.
“I liked her. Dr. Reed,” Gyro said as he snuggled up next to Mark in the back of the limo.
“Yeah, she’s cool. Kind of intense, though.”
“I appreciate her confident honesty.”
“You would.”
Gyro yawned and rested his head on Mark's shoulder. It would be awhile until they arrived home, so Mark assumed that his husband was settling in for a nap. While the meeting with Dr. Reed ended on a high note, Mark reflected back on Gyro's worries. Particularly his tears, which were more than just the side effect of unstable hormones.
“Feeling okay?” Mark cautiously asked.
“I am. Pretty tired, though, but content.”
“That’s good. I’m glad.”
They rode in silence for awhile. The shades were down and relaxing nature sounds played from the limo’s speakers. Just as Mark was beginning to drift off himself, he felt Gyro take his hand in his. He smiled. Gyro then forced his fingers to splay, and laid Mark’s palm flat on his belly.
“Feel that?” Gyro murmured, gently pressing on Mark’s knuckles.
Mark swallowed. “Hmm, dunno. Methinks this requires further investigation."
Gyro voiced a good-natured “Tch.” He removed Mark’s hand so that he could lift his shirt, then guided it back down to his lower belly.
Ever since the ultrasound, Mark barely touched Gyro, wary of his husband’s sullen mood. He especially avoided his abdominal area. So, after taking a moment to appreciate the warmth of Gyro’s soft tummy, Mark applied just enough pressure to feel a solid firmness inside.
“Oh wow, that’s them in there!”
Gyro nuzzled his beak into the crook of Mark’s neck. A pleasurable hum strummed in his throat. “Just think. In the coming weeks, there will be so much more of me for you to fondle.”
Mark's breath hitched. “You’re uh... you’re ok with getting bigger?”
The corners of Gyro’s beak curled into a sly smile. “Why, Mr. Marcus Timothy Beaks,” he purred in a Southern drawl. “I do declare, you're fixin' to get me riper than a late summer melon in a sun-kissed field.”
“Fuck, Gyro, don’t turn into Jubilee Junk’n now!”
“Aw, now why ever not, Sugar Daddy?” Gyro slid a finger under Mark's chin, making the flustered parrot squirm in place.
Mark crossed his legs, whining. As much as he didn’t want another limousine incident, he was actually enjoying Gyro’s spontaneous, saucy attitude.
“Hate you, nerd," Mark huffed.
“I hate you more, dickhead.”