He was so screwed.

He’d told you he didn’t need any protection due to his low fertility chances and you stupidly believed him.

You were together, sure. But in no way were you the ‘settle down with a couple kids’ kind of couple. You were dating because of your job, he had suspicions that it wouldn’t work the second you stepped off site together and god forbid moved into a house with one another.

Phillip thought that was all it was going to be, lovers for the sake of blowing off some steam and helping each other through rut/heat cycles with no strings attached.

..Until everything started to smell like sewage and he couldn’t stomach any of the cafeteria food or when he needed to go to the bathroom every thirty minutes regardless of how long he could hold it for; when he needed to go he needed to go. His body wouldn’t budge on that fact.

His muscles started to soften up then he’d grown more soft spoken, polite and considerate to the shadows under his command. …You being one of them, and a goddamn important one at that.

The test results would ruin both of your careers if it ever got out regardless of how much he told you it’d be nice to have a litter of his own one day; he never actually thought he would so he never thought about what could happen… so he didn’t say a damn thing and grimly hoped it’d sort itself out.

And you, observant as you were, had no problem in the world catching on to his change in behaviour. He wasn’t an emotional man in the slightest, of course you noticed when he was all smiles or all frowns all day. — Especially when the team had set up camp to take a couple days rest somewhere in the snowy mountains of Montana before you’d be set off for a mission.

You’d found him, keeled over and retching behind a bunch of bushes away from the rest of the camp, doing the one thing he tried so hard to hide from the others and you in particular.