Not for many people would I attempt schmoopy kidfic. As it's you...
Unbeta read and rough, sorry. But I hope it helps a little.
~*~*~*~
When Chris was young it was his job to watch his sisters overnight. He’d sit in a pool of dim light, a blanket tucked around his legs and school books piled at his side. Sleepy gurgles were his background noise, and he’d rub at his eyes, swapping books for bottles that he’d guide into hungry mouths. Wiping spilt milk from downy skin with the back of his work-roughened hands.
Baby tucked in the crook of his arm; he’d look outside, searching for lights in the darkness. The houses with bright windows, evidence that others were up late too, that despite what it felt like, he really wasn’t the only one awake.
It’s different now.
He’s always warm, always fed, any money worries long gone. Yet in some ways it feels the same.
Tucking Bailey securely against his arm, he wanders to the nearest window. Outside the darkness is studded with lights, strings of them in the trees, striped candy-canes lit up on the neighbours lawn, pushing back the night. But it’s not the darkness Chris fears, it’s the stillness, the silence that allows his doubts to run free.
Rubbing at his eyes with his hand, he yawns, needing sleep. Bailey looks up at him, eyes dark and wide, his fingers tiny against Chris’ arm.
“Hey.” JC’s dressed in one of Chris’ t-shirts and old sweat pants that lie low on one narrow hip. Pushing back his tangled hair, he walks close, resting his hand against Chris’ back. “You should have woken me.”
“You’ve got an interview first thing,” Chris says simply, eyes closing as he rests his head against JC’s shoulder.
“Still would’ve taken a feed.” JC moves his hand, wrapping his fingers around Chris’ wrist. “Come on.”
Tugging gently, he steers them all toward the master bedroom. Chris follows; blinking when they step into the brightness of the hall, then presses a kiss against Bailey’s head before handing him over to JC.
The bed is warm still, covers crumpled and pushed into a heap. Kicking at them, Chris lies down, curling onto his side so he can watch JC. The way he smiles at Bailey, his expression one of love as he kisses their son’s cheek.
JC settles into bed, back against the headboard, knees up, singing softly with Bailey cradled against his chest.
no subject
Unbeta read and rough, sorry. But I hope it helps a little.
~*~*~*~
When Chris was young it was his job to watch his sisters overnight. He’d sit in a pool of dim light, a blanket tucked around his legs and school books piled at his side. Sleepy gurgles were his background noise, and he’d rub at his eyes, swapping books for bottles that he’d guide into hungry mouths. Wiping spilt milk from downy skin with the back of his work-roughened hands.
Baby tucked in the crook of his arm; he’d look outside, searching for lights in the darkness. The houses with bright windows, evidence that others were up late too, that despite what it felt like, he really wasn’t the only one awake.
It’s different now.
He’s always warm, always fed, any money worries long gone. Yet in some ways it feels the same.
Tucking Bailey securely against his arm, he wanders to the nearest window. Outside the darkness is studded with lights, strings of them in the trees, striped candy-canes lit up on the neighbours lawn, pushing back the night. But it’s not the darkness Chris fears, it’s the stillness, the silence that allows his doubts to run free.
Rubbing at his eyes with his hand, he yawns, needing sleep. Bailey looks up at him, eyes dark and wide, his fingers tiny against Chris’ arm.
“Hey.” JC’s dressed in one of Chris’ t-shirts and old sweat pants that lie low on one narrow hip. Pushing back his tangled hair, he walks close, resting his hand against Chris’ back. “You should have woken me.”
“You’ve got an interview first thing,” Chris says simply, eyes closing as he rests his head against JC’s shoulder.
“Still would’ve taken a feed.” JC moves his hand, wrapping his fingers around Chris’ wrist. “Come on.”
Tugging gently, he steers them all toward the master bedroom. Chris follows; blinking when they step into the brightness of the hall, then presses a kiss against Bailey’s head before handing him over to JC.
The bed is warm still, covers crumpled and pushed into a heap. Kicking at them, Chris lies down, curling onto his side so he can watch JC. The way he smiles at Bailey, his expression one of love as he kisses their son’s cheek.
JC settles into bed, back against the headboard, knees up, singing softly with Bailey cradled against his chest.
Finally Chris can sleep.