Work Text:
Tuesday night, 8 P.M.
“Come on, you little rascal, time for bed!” Art chuckled, scooping his rambunctious four-year-old son up into his arms. The young boy had been bouncing and doing somersaults on the couch for the past ten minutes, a pastime his dads had been trying to put an end to, for the sake of the couch.
“Daddyyy, just five more minutes?” James pleaded, his charming demeanor almost swaying his father.
“No way Jose! You’ve got preschool tomorrow!” Art replied, tousling his little boy’s golden curls. Heading to his bedroom, James straightforwardly demanded, “Papa must read me a bedtime story and you have to sing me a song, okay?”
Amused, Art agreed, lying the child down onto his bed. “Now, you get into your pajamas lickety-split; Papa will be back in a couple of minutes to help you brush your teeth”.
“Ok!” James chirped, rushing off the bed and towards his closet, eager for his bedtime story and song.
Art, completely enamored with his son, walked towards him and Paul’s bedroom with a grin on his face. Entering the bedroom, he came across his husband, hard at work at his desk, grading papers. Noticing the stressed look upon his face and his tense shoulders, Art embraced Paul from behind, trying to relax him.
“My goodness, love, ease up, will you? It’s just papers, you can fail them all if you want!” Art joked, bringing a smile to his husband’s face
“Artie, come on, you know I can’t do that. My students put in so much hard work, I have to return the favor". Stressed, Paul let out a loud sigh. "Shit, I just wish I hadn’t put these off for so long. I have to return them tomorrow and I’ve barely made a dent”.
“You’ll get it done, I believe in you. You’ve got a more pressing matter at hand, though”.
“Hmm, what’s that?”
“Our son has requested a bedtime story. I also told him that you’d be the one to help him brush his teeth tonight”.
“Oh, I suppose I could make a little time for that,” replied Paul, grinning, as he got up from his chair and headed out the door, just as James called “Papa, I’m ready!” from the other room.
“I’m coming James, patience!” Paul reminded.
After getting his son tucked into bed, Paul read James a few stories from What Do People Do All Day?, one of the boy’s favorites. He always insisted that his father do funny voices for all of the different characters. Before long, though, James had grown visibly tired and Paul decided that they call it a night.
After placing a gentle kiss on James’ forehead and tucking his covers tightly around his shoulders, Paul got up to switch off the lights. His son’s drowsy voice interrupted him, though, reminding him that “Daddy said he’d sing me a song!”.
“Now, did he, then? I guess we’d better call the great troubadour in then,” said Paul, jokingly, which got a tinkly giggle from James.
“Artie,” Paul called out in a sing-songy tone, “James is waiting for his song!”
Entering the room, Art sat down on the edge of his son’s bed. After another goodnight, Paul returned to the other side of their apartment to keep on grading the dreaded papers.
In James’ room, after a short lullaby, the young boy was fast asleep. Flipping the light switch and quietly closing the door, Art went to join Paul in their room.
With Paul still plugging away at grading, Art quickly got ready for bed, already quite tired, despite the early time on the clock. After reading for a while, he shut off the light on his bedside table.
“Don’t take too much longer, Paul”. A warm glow was still emanating from the desk lamp.
Not looking up, Paul replied with a quick “I won’t be long, don’t worry”. Contented, Art drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
It ended up being after midnight when Paul finally climbed into bed. After settling in under the covers, Artie scooched to the other side of the bed, half-asleep, wrapping his arms around Paul.
“You won’t be long, huh? You asshole, don’t keep me waiting like that,” tightening his hold on his husband.
Chuckling, Paul replied with an amiable “Whatever you say, love”. Before long, they were both in dreamland.
Three hours later
James awoke with a start. He had just had the most frightening nightmare. He was at the grocery store, a regular occurrence, and at first, everything was normal. He was holding hands with his papa, picking out food for the next week. Suddenly, though, both his parents were gone. In fact, the whole store was empty, deserted. Running from aisle to aisle, he called out for his Daddy and Papa, more and more frantically with each cry. He awoke with a start, and began to sob. What if his parents were gone now? What if he found their bed empty when he checked? He had to find out, he decided.
Sniffling softly and clutching his blanket, James quickly ventured down the dark hallway to his parent’s room. Opening the door, he saw that his dads were still there, thankfully, in their bed, asleep. He padded over to Art’s side of the bed, cautiously tapping him on the shoulder.
Groggily, Art awoke, surprised to see his son by his bed at such an ungodly hour.
“James, what is it?” he whispered, concerned.
“I-I had a-a nightmare,” he whimpered, breaking into a fresh wave of tears and scrambling into the bed.
Pulling the small boy into a comforting embrace, Art rubbed his back reassuringly, trying desperately to ease his son’s fear.
“We-we were at th-the store, and-and then you-you and Papa weren’t there!” James cried, “N-no one was there, and I-I ran everywhere, trying t-to find y-you, but you were g-gone!”
“Oh James, I’m sure that was very scary, but it was just a dream, you don’t have to worry even a little bit. Papa and I are never going anywhere”. His words offered no solace, though. James, still terrified, continued crying bitterly into his father’s pyjama shirt.
All Art could think to do was keep holding his son tight, rubbing his back in soothing circles and whispering soft “Shhs” to try and calm him.
Hearing the quiet commotion from the other side of the bed, Paul awoke, sitting up in bed.
“My god, what time is it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes and glancing over the clock.
“James had a nightmare, Paul”. Looking over, Paul did indeed see his son crying into his husband’s shoulder.
Seeing him awake, James detached himself from Art, crawling to the other side of the bed to be comforted by both of his parents.
Consoling his son in much the same way as Art, Paul murmured gentle reassurances in James’ ear as he sobbed.
“James, it’s ok. I’m here, Daddy’s here. We’ve both got you”.
Eventually, with both of his parents’ consolation, James’ tears dried up, and exhausted from the ordeal, he quickly fell back asleep.
Not having the heart to return him to his room, the family curled up together in the large bed, with Paul and Art on either side of James.
With the morning just a few hours away, all three were soon fast asleep, at least until the light of dawn awoke them from their slumber.