Jefferson (missinggrace) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2015-03-13 21:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | captain hook, mad hatter |
Who: Jefferson & Killian
When: Friday, March 13th 2015
Where: Their house
What: Baby cuteness devolves into talking about Killian’s hook devolves into fooling around
Rating: PG-13 at worst.
There was likely nothing more ridiculous than a pirate sprawled out on a large bed with an infant similarly sprawled out in front of him. It was late, but Liam was wide awake and everyone else in the B&B had either gone to bed or was handling last minute issues. Killian was rarely a practical man, but he was still quite good at reasoning. Reasoning with his son about going to sleep was a good start, but hadn’t worked at all in the last ten minutes, so he shifted to a new tactic. Bloody pirate stories. When they’d adopted Liam, he had found a soft cap for the end of his hook just in case, and was putting it to good use now by poking the cooing baby gently in the stomach while he told the story, leaning over while he reenacted the tale with enthusiasm. “--And that was when I took the common brigand by the throat, gently placed the wench to the side and with one flick of my wrist, tore him open from throat to intestines.” Jefferson lingered in the open doorway. He’d stopped there because the view laid out on his bed was unfairly charming, but then he’d overheard the beginning of the story and thought to hang back. Give Killian this moment with their son. Their son. Even with a house full of kids, that was still a thought that hit him sideways. They were going to raise this kid with a grown version of himself in his life. Every time Jefferson looked at the adult Liam, he thought about how great he was, and how easy it would be to screw this up. And yet somehow, they’d managed not to. In a different timeline, sure, but they’d managed. His focus tuned back into the story, however, just as things got grisly. Jefferson snorted, rolled his eyes and stepped over to the bed. Looming to the side, he curled a hand around the back of Killian’s neck. “You are ridiculous. A world full of stories you could be telling, and you pick over-the-top gory. I hope you realize he’s going to start understanding what you’re saying before you know it.” Killian leaned back slightly, into Jefferson’s touch. Any normal man would have had the grace to look ashamed, but Killian had a shit-eating grin on his face and no apologies to hand out. He turned that grin back down at Liam, and it immediately softened into something slightly more moon-eyed and loving without hesitation. A few weeks ago, it might have surprised him to be filled with that kind of all-encompassing love, but now? It just seemed natural. “I bloody hope so, Hatter.” He spoke while grinning down at the smiling baby, gently catching a foot as it was kicked towards his face. “The stories wouldn’t be nearly as fun if he didn’t understand them. And eventually,” He finally glanced back up at his husband, still grinning. “He’ll have to give in and fall asleep.” Smirking at Killian’s shameless grinning, Jefferson sat down on the opposite side of the wiggling baby. “Mmhmm. You say fun, I say nightmares,” he teased, rubbing a hand over Liam’s head. The baby twisted, opening his mouth and trying to gum up Jefferson’s sleeve. Knowing full well he had the same sentimental smile that Killian had, he sighed out and stretched out on his side, kicking his shoes off. “He might need more activity during the day. I used to--Grace needed to be worn out or she would keep me up all night. Chattering. Making noise for the sake of hearing herself.” Flashing an off-kilter smile over the baby at Killian, he lifted his eyebrows pointedly. “Which may sound cute in theory, but really isn’t.” Killian’s grin got wider as his husband laid out on the bed, giving into the temptation that the pirate knew he was throwing forward. Impossible to resist a man sprawled out on a bed with a baby. “You say nightmares, I say get him used to the action early. He’ll be growing up on our stories, and no doubt end up shockingly well-adjusted much like our other Liam.” To his credit, Killian listened and lowered his head into a quick nod, acknowledging Jefferson’s superior training on the subject. Killian - while enjoying the company of children - had never had his own or any experience to fallback on. He’d been around Bae for a short time, but the boy was already independent, and Grace was much the same over the last year and a half. Then, suddenly, their little family had expanded to five children overnight. Most of them self-sufficient, of course, but it was still something the entire house was adjusting to. “Sounds just like Grace, if you ask me.” Killian quipped back, wiggling his eyebrows. “Haven’t the faintest idea how you’re supposed to wear them out when they’re this tiny, though. Have a hard enough time figuring out how to even hold him.” "Honestly, it's been so long, I don't remember any specifics either," Jefferson admitted. "I guess it'll be easier once he starts crawling. Until then, no tossing him too far into the air. Or any other heart attack-inducing things you'll not doubt think to try. For my sake, hm?" he smirked, tilting his head and staring Killian down over the baby. In truth, he wasn’t worried Killian would do anything to truly endanger Liam. As bad as their history of decisions regarding children were, they were both different people, and more importantly, together. As much as Jefferson privately angsted about the mistakes he might make, they were usually of the being stupidly overprotective or misguided variety. And they rarely extended to Killian. Beyond shallow things like Killian’s apparent desire to tell gruesome stories to an infant or ply the adult Liam with booze. “We could start getting him used to water, though. In a pool that is, not on a boat…,” Jefferson added, biting back a sharp smirk. As much as he knew they were joking about, Killian couldn’t help the small wave of shock that passed across his face with Jefferson’s comment about tossing Liam into the air. With a small wave of his hook, both in front of Liam and for Jefferson’s benefit, he raised an eyebrow in his typical maddening way. “Worry not, Hatter. I doubt there’ll be any tossing from this end.” Rolling to his side, he settled his hand across Liam’s stomach, keeping the wiggling infant in place as Killian settled in comfortably. “Though,” Killian glanced up from their son, eyes flickering to Jefferson briefly. “I had been thinking about asking a more permanent favor from Regina…” Even with thinking about it nearly constantly over the last few weeks, the words still managed to sound foreign in his throat. He already knew how well it would be received, and as soon as Liam started grabbing at the rings on Killian’s hand, Killian’s voice changed to something softer. “What’re the chances you won’t end up sea-sick like your counterpart, little duck?” Jefferson lifted his eyebrows, an apologetic smile twisting one corner of his mouth. But before he could say anything about Killian’s surprising dip into seriousness, his husband took it a step further, and Jefferson’s face fell into a grimace. Twisting to reach over Liam, he threaded his fingers into Killian’s hair and tugged lightly enough to encourage Killian to look at him. “Hey. That’s always going to be your choice. But I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again--you don’t need to be fixed, because there’s nothing wrong with you.” His fingers dug a little more into Killian’s hair, massaging at his scalp as Jefferson dropped his gaze to Liam and smiled for the baby’s sake. “I know you’ll be careful. You thought to find a cap before the thought ever even crossed my mind, Killian. Please don’t think for a second that a bad joke on my part means I have any worries about you ever hurting our son.” Unable to drop his head down to a sheepish grin like he usually did, Killian settled on a smirk and casual shoulder shrug as way of proving he wasn’t taking Jefferson’s comment personally. He had no real refuting or argument for Jefferson, or pleading. The topic was a touchy one at best, and it would be all-too-easy to joke about how of course there was nothing wrong with him. He was perfection. Instead, Killian leaned down to press a gentle kiss against Liam’s forehead, taking in the settling limbs and drowsy eyes with a smirk that was far more satisfied than before. Unfortunately, one-handedness did not typically owe to picking up a baby that was falling asleep without quite a bit of rustling, so Killian weightlessly lifted himself off the bed and gave Jefferson a pointed look. “If you would, love? As happy as I am to never let him go, I’m feeling the desperate urge to kiss you right now.” Turning away, he gave his hook a turn and clicked it out of the brace to set next to the bed. Without a clear cut response, Jefferson couldn't be sure if he'd said the right thing or the wrong thing, but he chose to take what Killian did say as proof that he hadn't mucked it up too badly. Sliding off the bed's edge, he slipped his arms carefully under Liam and gently lifted him into a cradle hold. It was tempted to draw this part out, even with the pull of Killian close by, but he relented eventually. He pressed a kiss to the baby’s nose, barely, so as not to wake him, and then laid him down in his bassinet. “How desperate are we talking here?” he smirked, as he covered Liam in a thin blanket and stepped over to Killian. “Do we need to move this to another room? I’d hate to see all your far-fetched storytelling go to waste.” “Incredibly.” Killian breathed in return, look going from interested to smoking in just a second. His hand came up to fiddle with the lapel of Jefferson’s shirt, fingers stroking lovingly down the fabric. The topic of his hand was a heavy one that Killian truly had no wish to rehash, especially knowing that Jefferson was likely to err on the side of agreeing with him simply because it was Killian’s own body. He moved in a little closer, now able to duck his head and look up at Jefferson through his lashes. “We may have to move it to to the shower, at the very least. Provided you have no objections to my earlier comment?” Tapping Jefferson’s hip with his braced wrist to direct the question without having to clarify. Jefferson smiled lazily as Killian turned up the heat in his gaze and inched closer. He curled a hand around his husband’s forearm and leaned in to brush a kiss along his jaw. “I have no objections to whatever will make you happiest. I just don’t want you having any regrets.” Dragging the kiss a little further down Killian’s neck, Jefferson wrapped his other arm around his back and stepped them both backwards towards the master bath. “I’m not really sure what that has to do with your desperate urge, though,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Try to stay on topic, pirate.” “I think you’ll find,” Killian paused to arch his neck for Jefferson , giving his husband more access to his neck. “That my days of having regrets are far beyond me.” The hand he had smoothed across Jefferson’s lapel grabbed on, adding to the momentum of their moving to the bathroom. Walking backwards was a bit clumsy, but Killian managed to maneuver them both into the bathroom, even with mouths otherwise occupied. “Just remember all the fun things I can do with both hands, love.” Killian punctuated the words with another eyebrow wiggle, before diving right back toward Jefferson’s mouth, shutting the door behind them as gently as he could when his mind was only half on making sure Liam didn’t wake. |