lisaroquin (lisaroquin) wrote in lisaroquin_fic, @ 2019-08-04 21:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | losers: del rio, losers: jolene porteous, losers: pooch porteous |
Del Rio- Lucky- Pooch/Jolene, gen
title: Lucky
author: lisa roquin
fandom: The Losers
series: Del Rio, set a 2-3 weeks after Could Have Been Him and Strictly Medicinal
prompt: fluff bingo -snuggling in bed
rating:
characters/pairings: Linwood “Pooch” Porteous/Jolene Porteous, Jacob Carlos “JC” Porteous,
disclaimer: not mine, no money made, just having fun
summary: Pooch knows just how lucky he is
warning:
wordcount: 1900-ish
“I’ll get him.” Pooch said at the slightly huffy grumple-sniff-snorts (the little sounds too adorable for words but he wasn’t admitting that, on point of death to Jolene sure, Cougar and Jensen, oh hell no) turning full blown air raid siren JC was completely unlike his big brother, even the two weeks Pooch had gotten to see Jameson at this age Pup had gone from asleep to awake in a heartbeat. JC grumbled and huffed and grumped and wriggled until finally seemed to hit ‘fuck it I guess I’m awake and not happy about it’ (though Pooch knew better than to word it like that to Jolene. His wife was scary when she was hostile and he was not making her hostile at him.)
Diaper changed, however inexpertly—he could feel Jo just struggling not to laugh at him, it wasn’t like he’d had all that much practice, wasn’t able to have that much practice before JC. “Sorry, buddy, mama’s gonna have to fix your blankies” he tried to get JC wrapped up tight in his blankets, which he seemed to prefer, but yeah, soundly defeated. Had to be some kind of Mama Voodoo to get those damn blankets wrapped around a kid right. And thank God for Huggies because he figured he’d have as much luck with cloth diapers as he did with wrapping up in blankies.
“Yeah, mama’s got the good stuff, not me,” Pooch laughed as his two week old son wriggled and rooted and then got PISSED.
“The good stuff?” Jolene repeated dryly, eyes half opened and exhaustion clear on her face.
JC was a good baby, slept a full six hours between ten at night and four in the morning from three days old on, which as far as Pooch was concerned was sleeping through the night. Close enough, couldn’t ask for more than that. Plenty of babies would sleep for a five or six hour stretch, just JC already got the timing of the long stretch stretch of the day down for night time. Pooch wasn’t sure Pup quite had that down yet. Pup was a live wire. JC...well, kinda soon to say what he was, but he was most definitely already JC and nothing like Pup was at that age. JC was a good sleeper. Pup was almost seven and didn’t sleep til he had to or dropped because they’d run his little butt ragged to wear him out.
“Oh good lord, Lin, do you not know how to wrap a baby up?”
“Nope. I tried.”
“Mmm hmmm, not very hard,” Jolene said shifting to sit up a bit and re-wrap JC in his blankies. Pooch thought the word was swaddled, but whatever the actual word was JC was wrapped up tight like a little baby burrito, though one little fist out (right one) and up against his cheek like he was thinking about some kind of serious business or just that damn tired his head needed support.
Pup had had to have his left foot sticking out, Pooch remembered that. He’d inhaled and tattooed every second of Jolene and Pup on his brain the two weeks he got with them. Four damn years those memories had sustained him, albeit with the occasional hacking of store footage and traffic cams by Jensen for a glimpse of them. Pup had only been two days older than JC when Pooch had had to leave. And his older son had been four damn years old the next time Pooch got to hold him.
“Your mom and Fred coming?”
“Mmm, Mom wants to. Fred needs shot. Doubt they’ll come for a while. Til Fred gets over being a controlling asshole and mom begs enough.”
“Say the word, baby.”
Jolene’s dad had died in a car wreck the third year they were married. Her mother had remarried only a couple years after that to Fred Jones and Jolene hated the asshole with a venom that had shocked Pooch at first. He’d gotten on board with it though. Fred was a controlling narrow-minded creep who if there was ever the least bit of proof to both Jolene and Pooch’s suspicions, Pooch would be grabbing Cougar and Jensen and they’d be off to kill the abusive fucker. No one could figure out why Deb Jameson had ever looked at Fred once, let alone gotten involved with and married. He was at best on the homely edge of average looking, about thirty extra pounds around the gut and a complete asshole from the word go.
Tom and Nalia had been there and gone with their kids. As had Jolene’s Aunt Louise and Uncle Ray, and her other four cousins Bruce, Reggie, Louie and Rayelle with spouses and assortment of spawn. Pooch wasn’t the most impressed with any of them save Tom and Nalia. Uncle Ray wasn’t a bad guy, but he let Aunt Louise run roughshod over him maybe more than Pooch let Jolene run over him. Thing was, Aunt Louise was a high and mighty ladies church group leader and utter bitch if things didn’t go her way and were properly just so, Jolene was Jolene. Louie and Rayelle were entirely their mother’s children. Bruce and Reggie were okay, but they were awful bland middle class for Pooch’s taste, Reggie’s wife was PTA soccer mom helicoptering those kids so hard she was probably going to have a nervous breakdown when the youngest went to college and Bruce’s wife was just a psycho cunt.
Jolene was happy to see them all, well mostly, no one was ever happy to see Bruce’s wife, just thank God that bitch didn’t have any kids of her own to destroy.
Still the influx of relatives had worn Jolene out. She looked more tired now than she did the day after JC was born. Thankfully the vast majority (except Tom and Nalia) lived in Missouri and with time off work and such was only a quick in and out sort of visit. Pooch might have lost his damn mind otherwise. Tom and Nalia got the brunt of the visiting since most of them were anywhere near to show up to see JC with it being slightly delayed destination Christmas vacation at Tom and Nalia’s this year. And since Tom and Nalia were determined to make a quick trip to see Jolene and the new baby, the whole fucking bunch had shown.
Jolene settled on her side and got JC settled, he was right with the program, BREAKFAST! JC wanted food and sleep. Even at a few days old Pup had been alert and wanting to see, any little noise he was wriggling and turning his head even if his eyes probably couldn’t focus enough to see shit just yet then. JC didn’t seem less alert, just didn’t give a fuck.
“You are gonna be so much trouble aintcha, litte guy?” Pooch murmured with a smile settling down on the bed, stretched out on his side facing Jolene.
“Trouble? He is the best baby...” Jolene said. “Jamie was AWAKE from the word go.”
“He’s the son of a Loser born on New Years Eve. Think we might need to go kidnap him and lock him in a cellar over at Cougar’s on his twenty-first. Pup, he’s me all over again. I was just like that as a kid.”
“I know. I remember.”
“And you were right there just a shakin’ your head at me from little on.” Pooch grinned. “Still can’t figure out how I got so lucky you stuck with your decision you were keeping me so long.”
“Daddy always swore it was nothin’ but stubborn. Silly little promise I made when I was four I was gonna marry you. He tried to talk me out of you til the day he died.” Jolene smiled.
“Yeah, your dad hated me.”
“No he didn’t. He liked you a lot, would have adored you if you weren’t with me.”
“If you say so, baby.” Pooch wasn’t going to argue with how much Samuel Jameson hated him. He grinned, “Pup is just like me. But JC here, think he’s gonna take after you. Or You and Cougar, just gonna quietly do what the hell he’s gonna do and no one’s gonna notice til they’re ducking explosions.”
“I’ll just have to make sure JC knows what a necessary explosion is as opposed to blowin’ shit up just for the boom….like some people, and their son.”
“Yeah,” Pooch agreed tracing her cheek with a finger tip and what had to be a dopey grin. He couldn’t even put a word to the feeling that crept up on him in quiet little moments like this. So perfect they were painful, so simple and mundane they overwhelmed him. He was home. Jo was lying in the bed next to him, and no matter her opinion on how she looked just now and his own ability to see how clearly she was exhausted she was always going to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, the most perfect woman he’d ever met.
JC had been a quick easy delivery despite being a truly miserable pregnancy—to the point the docs wanted to schedule a c-section with all sorts of Neonatal and other specialists on hand just in case. Jo’s blood pressure had been through the roof, her ankles fucking huge to the point her feet were swollen bad enough a couple times it had been agony to walk, gestational diabetes (again, she hadn’t told him until after JC that she’d had that with Catherine and Pup both.) The docs had been planning a C-section, two days before the C-section was scheduled JC decided he was coming out right damn now. Hour and a half labor and maybe five pushes later, JC was pissed off he was cold and hungry and pissed on the doc even before his cord was cut.
After Catherine another child was ‘ill advised’, after Pup another had been not only ‘ill advised’ but also in the likelihood of ‘nothing short of a miracle without deliberate medical intervention to achieve a pregnancy.’ Catherine was an ache that was always quietly there, always would be, but their boys were alive and strong and healthy and almost as perfect as their mother in Pooch’s opinion. The nightmare with Max as over as it was going to get. He had a string of trainees starting the next week being dumped off as labor for the garage and salvage yard and the air strip, home every night. Mostly quiet life with his woman and his boys. Pooch was completely on board with Cougar’s plan to keep him out of any team missions as much as possible, he had his out in training transpo cherries for Stegler.
“Sap.” Jolene murmured with a smile looking at him.
Yeah, the expression on his face was definitely as dopey as it felt. He could care less though. “So? Whatcha gonna do about that?”
“Nothing, think I’m pretty well stuck with you.”
“Lucky me.”
“Absolutely, you’re very lucky.” Jolene teased.
Pooch laughed softly. Right this minute, life was so good, so perfect he just might explode. “God I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Pooch leaned forward and kissed her, then dropped a kiss on JC’s head. He grunted, slightly irritated, concnetrating on breakfast. Pooch smiled at his son. Yeah, Pup might be just like Pooch had been as a kid, but he was pretty sure JC was gonna be the same kind of hell on wheels as his mama. He really was the luckiest man around.