Chapter 168: Competitive Swimming

Two weeks later, Alexander deeply regretted agreeing so quickly.

Not because he’d changed his mind. Preserving their sperm still made perfect sense.

What Alexander hadn’t properly considered was the indignity involved in getting that sperm into storage.

The consultation had been fine.

They’d gone through their medical and family histories, medications, previous illnesses, physical examinations, blood tests, and questions about their reproductive plans. The physician hadn’t even blinked when they explained that they were engaged and wanted to preserve sperm for possible future use with an egg donor and gestational carrier.

Then came the semen collection.

Alexander stared at the sterile container he’d been given.

Beside him, Giovanni was reading the instructions.

Again.

"You’ve read that three times."

"I prefer accuracy."

"We’re not assembling furniture."

Giovanni looked at him. "There are instructions."

"There are barely enough instructions to require a sheet."

"And yet people presumably still fail to follow them."

Alexander looked down at his own copy.

No ordinary lubricant. Make sure the entire sample entered the sterile container. Close the lid securely.

He sighed.

"Romantic."

"We’re preserving our genetic material."

"Somehow, you made it worse."

They had separate private collection rooms, which Alexander considered an excellent decision on the clinic’s part because he had absolutely no desire to make eye contact with Giovanni at any point during the process.

Before entering his room, Giovanni glanced at him.

"Good luck."

Alexander stared.

"Don’t say that."

"Why?"

"Because now it sounds competitive."

Giovanni’s mouth twitched. "It isn’t."

"You’re smiling."

"I’m encouraging you."

"Go into your room."

Giovanni did.

Alexander closed his own door behind him and looked around.

A chair, a sink, and a private bathroom. A small television sat against one wall, which he absolutely refused to investigate.

Then there was the specimen container.

Alexander stared at it.

The container remained offensively sterile and unimpressed.

Wonderful.

He reminded himself that this was for their future family, then immediately decided that thinking about hypothetical children while holding a specimen cup was deeply inappropriate.

"You’d better appreciate this someday," he muttered.

The worst part wasn’t producing the sample.

It was handing it over afterward.

Alexander walked out carrying a small sealed specimen bag and discovered Giovanni approaching the laboratory window from the opposite hallway at almost the same time.

They stopped.

Neither spoke.

Alexander looked at Giovanni’s bag.

Giovanni looked at his.

"No."

"I didn’t say anything."

"You were going to."

"I wasn’t."

"You have that face."

"What face?"

"The one you make before saying something annoying."

Giovanni glanced toward the laboratory window.

"Race you?"

Alexander nearly threw the bag at him.

"You’re disgusting."

That finally made Giovanni laugh.

Their preliminary results were available later that day.

The physician went through them without unnecessary drama. Both samples were suitable for cryopreservation, and neither man’s results showed anything clinically concerning.

Alexander was perfectly satisfied with that information.

Unfortunately, Giovanni had been given numbers.

Giovanni studied his report.

Alexander immediately recognized the expression on his face.

"No."

Giovanni looked up. "What?"

"We are not comparing numbers."

"I wasn’t."

"You absolutely were."

"The doctor gave us reports."

"Separate reports."

"Yes."

"For a reason."

Across from them, the physician lowered his gaze to his desk, although Alexander was fairly certain the man was trying not to smile.

Giovanni turned back to his report.

"My motility is slightly higher."

Alexander slowly looked at him.

"There it is."

"It’s simply a laboratory result."

"You brought it up."

"I was making an observation."

"Congratulations on your enthusiastic sperm."

"Thank you."

"That wasn’t a compliment."

The physician cleared his throat and mercifully redirected the conversation.

"If you’re planning for more than one child, you may want to consider additional collections. It would give you more stored material and greater flexibility depending on how you decide to proceed later."

That sobered them considerably.

Alexander glanced at Giovanni.

"We can do another collection."

Giovanni nodded. "Agreed."

They didn’t need to decide anything else today. They had time to figure out exactly how they wanted to build their family when they were ready.

For now, preserving their options was enough.

The remaining paperwork covered storage fees, authorization for future use, and instructions regarding what should happen to the samples under various circumstances.

That part wasn’t particularly romantic either.

Necessary, though.

They signed the documents, paid the required fees, and eventually received copies of their laboratory reports and cryopreservation records confirming that their samples had been processed for storage.

Alexander slipped his documents into an envelope.

Giovanni did the same.

That should’ve been the end of it.

Unfortunately, Giovanni looked far too pleased with himself.

Alexander narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Gio."

"My swimmers are slightly faster."

Alexander stared at him.

There it was.

"You’re going to hold that over me forever, aren’t you?"

"Probably."

"The doctor specifically said the difference doesn’t mean anything."

"I know."

"And we’re not competing."

"Of course not."

Alexander headed for the door.

Giovanni followed.

By the time they reached the elevator, Alexander had already decided that the subject was finished.

The doors opened.

They stepped inside.

Alexander pressed the lobby button.

A moment later, Giovanni quietly added, "Still faster."

Alexander elbowed him.

Not particularly hard.

Giovanni laughed.

"You’re unbelievably immature for a man running Mercer Group."

"And yet my swimmers remain faster."

"By an insignificant amount."

"So you admit you checked."

Alexander turned toward him.

Of course he’d checked.

There was no point pretending otherwise when the evidence was literally printed on the reports they were carrying.

"That isn’t the point."

"Then what is?"

Alexander couldn’t think of a sufficiently dignified response, so he settled for glaring at him.

Giovanni looked entirely too satisfied.

Alexander shook his head, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

The envelope in his hand didn’t look particularly important. It contained a laboratory report, consent forms, and storage records that would eventually disappear into a drawer with the rest of their important documents.

Still, Alexander found himself looking down at it.

A few months ago, children had belonged to some vague future he hadn’t spent much time considering. Even after he and Giovanni started discussing the possibility seriously, it had remained exactly that.

A possibility.

Today hadn’t created a child, nor had it guaranteed them one.

But somewhere several floors below them, something that could someday help them become fathers was being preserved because they’d chosen to make room for that possibility.

Together.

The thought settled strangely warmly inside his chest.

No inheritance clause was involved this time, and no business problem they were trying to solve. Neither of them needed anything from the other to satisfy a board or protect a company.

They simply wanted a family someday.

That was enough.

Giovanni reached for his hand.

Alexander let him take it.

For several seconds, they stood quietly as the elevator descended.

Then Alexander looked at their joined hands, then glanced at Giovanni.

"What if mine are better next time?"

Giovanni slowly turned his head.

"So we’re competing now?"

Alexander immediately regretted opening his mouth.

"Shut up."

Giovanni smiled.

"You brought it up."

"I was asking a hypothetical question."

"About whether your sperm could beat mine."

"I didn’t say beat."

"You said better."

Alexander glared at him.

The elevator doors opened onto the lobby.

Giovanni stepped out first, still holding Alexander’s hand.

"Don’t worry," he said. "There’s always next time."

"Asshole."

Giovanni’s laughter followed them all the way out of the clinic.