The ABO Serum

Chekhov's Wine Bottle

Dr. Martin didn't have the same scruples as his boss. The dominant and flamboyantly gay man made the doctor's submissive hidden little heart flutter, and he'd come up with a similar plan for an initial human test. But with a twist.

They were testing an oral version of the treatment in animals now since injections were the least desirable delivery method for any drug. He happened to know about Daryl's passion for good wine. He injected the appropriate initial dose for two with a needle through the cork of the best bottle his internet search could come up with.

"It's been a difficult transition out of San Francisco for you," he said in greeting as Daryl ushered the doctor into his office. "I wanted to welcome you properly." He held up the bottle of merlot. "I'm told it should be shared with a friend and finished in one sitting to bring luck and happiness." He handed the bottle over to his speculative looking boss, waiting for the natural reciprocal invitation to share since his boss hadn't had time to make any other friends in town yet.

"Thank you!" Daryl responded. It was a nice bottle. And with the sentiment...just the thing for his dinner with Carey. He set it aside and asked about progress with the oral drugs. The meeting felt a little awkward after that, so he didn't bring up his idea about using himself and his neighbor as test subjects. It would be better if he waited until they were a couple to bring it up anyway.

The human trial called for couples. It was stalled while they tried to recruit. But they couldn't even start promoting recruitment until they figured out how to word "you might end up with a new secondary gender but hating each other as a side effect" in a way that didn't sound so appalling. They might have more luck recruiting singles, but recruiting singles for what was essentially a fertility treatment raised other ethical/marketing problems.

Dr. Martin nervously glanced at the bottle a dozen times as he answered Daryl's questions. Each time Daryl's gaze followed and he smiled thinking of his date with Carey. The mysterious smiling increased Dr. Martin's nervousness until he couldn't stand it anymore and excused himself. He was so addlepated by his mistaken expectations and failed plan that he picked up the bottle without thinking as he moved to leave, but Daryl's loud throat clearing and raised eyebrow made him realize his mistake and he put it back, mumbling apologies and excuses as he backed out of the room.

As soon as he left, Robin came in with more coffee. Daryl almost refused, tired of the office brew, until he recognized the coffee shop logo on the cup. "From the little guy, the weird one," Robin said, putting the cup down on the desk.

"Be nice," Daryl reprimanded. "I'm going to marry that little guy someday."

"I know it's better than mine, but his coffee isn't that good," Robin assumed the boss to be teasing.

"You haven't tried his brownies," Daryl answered. "Now, what's next?"

Throughout the rest of the day, Dr. Martin seemed to hover nearby. But Daryl was too busy with paperwork to be bothered. He almost left the bottle of wine on his desk when he went home because it made him so happy every time he caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye. He thought it could keep sitting there making him happy for another two days, but he couldn't leave it behind in the end. Seeing it pleased him and he wanted to keep it in sight a little longer. He regretted the impulse in the morning because it would be ridiculous to bring it back with him again. He'd gone so far as to put it on his nightstand when he went to bed and he fell asleep in his plush satin nest dreaming of making sweet love to his omega neighbor.

Meanwhile, Dr. Martin figured it didn't matter who his boss shared the wine with as long as he drank it, and as long as he took the medicine himself and transitioned at about the same time it would be okay. He'd ask on Monday if the boss enjoyed his gift and if he said yes, then he'd take the serum too and they'd be close enough on the timing.

After all, the odds were high he'd be sharing that bottle with another alpha or beta. Once the first dose was taken, it would become apparent as the transition started and too late to go back. He'd confess and apologize, and take any punishment while they finished undergoing treatment, but when it was done and alpha and omega were in proximity, none of that would matter. They'd mate. They'd make a baby. And his personal and professional life would rapidly escalate to a pinnacle hitherto unknown to homosexual men.