Frankie

Lord above, I was in another mess. Oh, how rude of me, I'm Frankie, sweetie. My mother, bless her cold heart, taught me manners before she came across him. He just so happened to be yelling at me for coming home late. He was worried the cops would come and see his stash of fledgling porn, not that yet again I had been jumped by Robin’s gang.

He was a porn addict and an unemployed punk. My Mama called him Jesus and her savior after my Papa died. She couldn't tell Jesus from Lucifer. The Baptist woman went off her rocker the moment Papa died.

Leaving her fourteen year old to fend for himself. I mean, I'm far from defenseless. I'm a skinny boy with red hair and blue eyes. I can throw a decent punch, and my heels are nine inches. I could run in heels better than some of the girls at the corner. And even then I was still a target.

“You worthless piece of shit! Next time you come home late, I'm gonna bust your face up good!” he screams.

I nod and walk to my room. I am tired and sore. I take a shower and let the warm waterfall cover my skin. I had always showered at night.

Mama walks in with her cross necklace and starts basically saying what he just said. I want to slap the heaven out of her and wake her up. Yell at her and tell her that this wasn't what Papa wanted.

That's when the Military Guard knocks on the door. Mama goes and opens the door. They come in like they're all entitled and stuff. Mama keeps saying nothing's wrong, and he is trying to hide his fledgling porn in the closet. She offers them tea and cookies. They take it.

“So, you got a boy?” the one I've seen on television questions of my parents.

“Oh yes, he's trouble,” he says it like it’s poker night with his boys.

The TV angel smiles and asks to see me. I get out of the shower. He gasps once he sees me. He runs over and inspects my wounds. I sigh softly.

“Don't bother,” Mama states, “he will be right fine in a few days.”

“Sir, aren't you the archangel?” I whisper the question.

“There's seven archangels, sweetie. And I'm Michael, the sexy one,” the archangel laughs.

“Mika, can we search the property?” his partner murmurs into Michael’s ear.

The archangel huffs, “Sky, go ahead.”

The partner is very handsome. I could sleep with him. I would, too. He has such gorgeous cornflower blue eyes. I would lay back and let him Dom me.

The partner, who was named Skyllar, finds the porn stash in the closet. Realizing that he was screwed, my Mama’s boyfriend blames it on me. I deny it. They check the receipts. It’s his signatures on every dotted line. He gets arrested and so does Mama.

They take me to the station and interview me. I tell them about Mama acting weird and her boyfriend being abusive. I hate opening old wounds. I tell them about Robin’s gang and how those guys have been hurting me.

These guys put in a request for me to be viewed by a psychiatrist and a doctor. Michael feeds me. He doesn't know. He sits in the room while his fellow archangel, Raphael, starts stripping me down and looking me over.

Gentle old Raph, poor fella, touches my left shoulder blade. I outright scream, not for the pain, but for the discovery of my prostitution brand. I was another one of the boys who worked the corner as a means to feed my family. I bolt from the police station as soon as I am left alone.

I grab some things from my room and the cash I was saving for a movie I wanted to go to.

I run.

XXX

I find a small abandoned house to hide in for the night. Michael would look for me. I know he will.

The house is dank, and I smell mold. I feel like throwing up. Being a male prostitute, the constant work is terrible on your body. I consider going to a clinic to get checked for any diseases.

Or parasitic infections of the prenatal kind, my traitor of a brain adds.

Now, let me give you the grace of a crash course in magical being sex ed. You have your male Semes, nothing really special though. Then your male Ukes, this is the kicker, kids, can become pregnant. There was a small shortage of females way back when, and angels and demons and fae and every magical being in between was graced with male pregnancy. It’s a yaoi fan’s dream come true.

There is a tube in the rectum leading to the uterus, where eggs are hiding. We don't have periods, but heats drive Nephaelim bonkers. Imagine, for example, a knife in your gut that is accompanied by sweating, mood changes, and a permanent erection.

Thankfully, with angels and demons, when our wings come in, we are the fertile if we are Ukes. During the heats the Nephaelim have, they are willing to get on their knees for any relief. Those heats usually start about two to four years after their wings come in.

They can be stopped, or at least masked, by suppressants. And if an Uke angel or demon happens to be by an Uke Nephaelim, they better be ready for a fight, since the Semes can sense Ukes even though they aren't currently or can't be in heat. And they'll mate with any breathing Uke in the vicinity.

It's not our faults. We can't help it. I'm just glad I'm safe.

I walk to the clinic under the cover of five o'clock rush hour. I slip into the Uke’s health clinic on Avery Boulevard. I'm in uptown Jericho City. This is where drug deals and gun violence go down nightly.

And for a pasty white boy in high heels in this part of town? Well, um, that'd be a death sentence. I show off my brand. No one screws with Robin. This is his town. If you don't pay his girls and boys, you get got

Just relax. You'll be fine, I tell myself over and over like a broken record.

The clinic is empty. I walk over to a nurse who signs me in. She takes a blood sample and runs the initial basic tests. Pregnancy, heart functions, damage, STDs, etc. Just a few minutes, yeah.