Tag: ato writes

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

From Cleaving.

As usual, the lasagna tasted even better the day after it was made, and the Minestrone was satisfying the way only soup could be when it’s snowing out.  They cleaned up the kitchen while Margo bathed Nathan again, and they all settled around the tv at 6:30 to watch Nathan’s choice of Rudolf.  It was cozy.  Nathan was snuggled between he and Chris in his feetsy “Staying up for Santa” pajamas — which he most certainly was not — and he was delighted with the show, especially the misfit toys.  When it was over, Chris got some pictures of Nathan in his special pjs by the tree, laying out cookies and eggnog for Santa.  He was so excited, Zach wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep yet.  And then Nathan made it clear he didn’t want to go to bed.  It hadn’t turned into a full-fledged tantrum yet, but it was right on the cusp.  And building.  Code Amber, as he and Chris used to joke.

“Hey Nathan?” Chris asked, glancing at Zach as if for permission.  But Zach really didn’t know what he was up to.   He just shrugged.  “In my family, we got to open one Christmas present the night before.  Would you like to open one that  brought you from England?”

“Nathan present?” the boy asked, the crisis quickly de-escalating, judging from his hopeful voice.  Zach bit his lip and smiled at Chris.

“Yeah, but Daddy and I get to pick out which one, and I have a special one that I think will be perfect.”

Nathan spun to look at Zach expectantly.

“I like Babbo’s tradition!” Zach said, getting into the spirit.  “Should we make it our new tradition?”

“Yeah!” Nathan answered, throwing his arms in the air.

“I have to go find it upstairs.  How about you and Daddy go potty and brush your toofers, and when you’re done it will be ready.“

Nathan bolted for the stairs, and Zach huffed a laugh and turned to follow, but was abruptly stopped by Chris’ hand on his arm.  His mom went up the stairs to help Nathan.

“This is okay?” came the quiet question as he turned back.  Chris looked genuinely nervous.

“Of course,” he whispered back, covering Chris’ hand with his own.  “We should have talked about it earlier, so we could make sure that your traditions are getting incorporated, too.  Oh god,” Zach had an abrupt thought.  “Do we…should we be doing something for Hanukkah?”

Chris shook his head and smiled.  “That was weeks ago.  This is fine.  I’ll go get the book for him to unwrap.”

“His Christmas Eve gift is a book?”  

“Of course…then it segues right into bedtime.”

Zach felt a smile quirk on his lips.  “When was the last time I told you how brilliant you are?”

The blush running up Chris’ face was adorable, and as usual caused the strange dual reactions in Zach: the desire to kiss his cheek sweetly, and the less sweet desire to follow that blush with his tongue and teeth all the way down.  Because he knew exactly how low it could travel.  Fuck, it had really been too long since they’d touched each other.

“It’s been a while,” Chris admitted.

I just got a comment on the Bleary!verse series…

…from someone who speaks Italian and understood the first time that Zach used Babbo. 

“I have a surreal amount of love for Nathan, and the whole Babbo thing
made my heart melt every single time (esp because I know Italian the
same way this Zach does, and so I understood from the first time, and
I’ve been yelling ever since).”

I can only imagine the dope-slap she’s been wanting to give Chris all this time.

Few Words Wednesday

ato-the-bean:

More Cleaving.

“Better?” Zach asked as Nathan’s breathing began to settle.

“Yeah.”

“Ready to go in?”

Nathan nodded.

“I think you might have hurt Babbo’s feelers.”

“Babbo bad.  Push bad.”

“No, it wasn’t his fault.  It was an accident.  He didn’t mean for you to fall.  He was scared for you.”

Nathan seemed to think about that for a moment.  “Where go?” he asked, finally raising his head from Zach’s neck and looking around.

“He went inside to make you hot chocolate.  Wasn’t that nice?”

Nathan shrugged.  

“Try not to be mad at him, okay?  Remember how much we missed Babbo when he was filming?  We need to have fun while he’s here.”

“Babbo go way ‘gain?” His voice trembled.

“Not for a few weeks.  We get to play for a long time before he has to go back to Europe to finish making his movie.”

Nathan frowned at that.  Zach wondered what was going through his little mind, and whether Chris’ filming was causing resentment.  “Some daddies have to go to an office every day and don’t get to play except for weekends.  We’re lucky that Babbo usually gets to play. It just means that he sometimes has to work a lot of days in a row away from home.”

Nathan didn’t have anything to add to that, and after waiting a moment, Zach stood up and carried him into the house.

Few Words Wednesday

More Cleaving.

“Better?” Zach asked as Nathan’s breathing began to settle.

“Yeah.”

“Ready to go in?”

Nathan nodded.

“I think you might have hurt Babbo’s feelers.”

“Babbo bad.  Push bad.”

“No, it wasn’t his fault.  It was an accident.  He didn’t mean for you to fall.  He was scared for you.”

Nathan seemed to think about that for a moment.  “Where go?” he asked, finally raising his head from Zach’s neck and looking around.

“He went inside to make you hot chocolate.  Wasn’t that nice?”

Nathan shrugged.  

“Try not to be mad at him, okay?  Remember how much we missed Babbo when he was filming?  We need to have fun while he’s here.”

“Babbo go way ‘gain?” His voice trembled.

“Not for a few weeks.  We get to play for a long time before he has to go back to Europe to finish making his movie.”

Nathan frowned at that.  Zach wondered what was going through his little mind, and whether Chris’ filming was causing resentment.  “Some daddies have to go to an office every day and don’t get to play except for weekends.  We’re lucky that Babbo usually gets to play. It just means that he sometimes has to work a lot of days in a row away from home.”

Nathan didn’t have anything to add to that, and after waiting a moment, Zach stood up and carried him into the house.

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

More Cleaving.  They are still sledding in the back yard.

Nathan got a little braver each time, asking to go faster with a gleeful “more push, Babbo” and then tumbling forward into Zach’s arms.  Each time he squealed on his way down as Zach and Chris grinned at each other over his head.  The snow was starting to fall harder, sticking to their scarves and hats as the temperature dropped noticeably.  And Nathan was getting tired, though denying it utterly.  Zach knew he should insist they go in soon, but everyone was having so much fun after so long apart, he just couldn’t  bring himself to do it.

He realized his mistake as Nathan listed to the right during the next launch.  The child’s squeal turned into an alarmed scream as the saucer veered off the worn path and into powdery snow, throwing him from the sled.

“Shit!” Chris cried as Zach rushed forward to where Nathan was planted face down in the snow.  “I’m sorry. God, I didn’t mean—”

Nathan pushed his body up, utterly silent for a second as Chris and Zach froze and held their breath.  And then the wail began.   Zach picked him up, planting him on his feet and quickly framing his face between large hands and checking for injuries.  His face was screwed up in a cry, wet from the snow, and and pink from the cold, but was otherwise fine.  

“You’re okay,” he said, pulling Nathan against his chest as Chris knelt beside him.  “You were so brave, but I know it’s no fun to get a face full of snow.”

“Daddy!” he cried, flinging tiny arms around Zach’s neck as Chris made his own scan of Nathan’s arms and legs.

“I know, but you’re all right.  We’ve got you.”

Chris put his hand on Nathan’s back, rubbing comforting circles and murmuring reassurances.

Nathan pushed him away.

“No Babbo!” he yelled before burying his face in Zach’s neck again, sobbing.  

Zach wrapped his arms around his son and looked up at Chris’ stricken face.  He was recoiling as if he’d been burned.

“Chris—”

But he was already standing and pulling away, schooling his features.  “Uh, how about I go start some hot chocolate so it’s ready when he wants to come in?”

“Chris, he didn’t—”

“It’s fine, Zach,” he interrupted, walking backward toward the house.  “I’m fine.  I’ll just… I’ll go inside so you can take care of him… get him calm.  I’ll start some cocoa.”  He turned before Zach could answer, quickly retreating toward the kitchen door, taking what remained of the day’s warmth with him.

Except for the tiny, hot, trembling bundle pressing against his chest.

“Shhhh.  You’re okay,” Zach sighed.  “We’ll be okay.”

They clung to each other in the falling snow until shuddering sobs gave way to shivers.