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Putting children to bed is never easy. All they want to do is delay the inevitable for as long as possible - can I have a drink? I have a question. Have you seen my toy? Have you done this thing? I just need to clean up. I’m not actually tired…
Ten year old Craig Tucker was no exception. Thomas had been trailing him around the house for the better part of half an hour, picking up toys and explaining the intricacies of the universe, waiting desperately for his son to latch onto a topic he could tire himself out with. So far, however, he’d had no luck. They’d made several trips up and down the stairs, every single plastic contraption and game surely put away by now, every topic explored in great detail. All but one.
Pushing a short stool in front of their sink, Craig clambered atop and reached out for his toothbrush, clumsily applying far too much toothpaste and consequently gagging at the minty overload. He stuck out his tongue, wincing slightly at the tang.
Thomas leaned against the bathroom’s door frame, smiling as he exhaled slightly through his nose. His son may be an arrogant little bastard with too much energy for this time of night, but at least he was endearing. Craig had got over the taste by now, and was vigorously scrubbing his teeth with the same energy he’d erase notebook doodles when caught. Loudly and obnoxiously spitting into the sink, he dipped his head beneath the running faucet, gargling the water and tossing his head back, making brief eye contact with his father, view upside down.
His dad laughed at the ridiculous sight, causing the boy to splutter in embarrassment, gagging and dropping the peppermint residue into the sink with an ugly ‘bleh’.
‘The hell’s so funny?’ Craig demanded, pointing an accusatory finger. ‘This is important!’
Attempting to slow his laughter, Thomas crossed his arms and stood up straighter. ‘Nothing, buddy. Go on though - what’s so important?’ He trailed off a little at the end, thoughts racing as to whether inviting this conversation to begin was for the best.
‘Morning breath?’ Craig responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world - ‘I’ve gotta make sure I’m in the routine, this stuff has gotta be natural when me and Tweek move in together when we’re adults.’
His dad’s audible laughs stopped almost immediately at that. Right - this could go either way. Either Craig tires himself out gushing over his little boyfriend, or he works himself up over the same, dooming Thomas to hours more of nonsense before bed. He figured, however, that this was his only chance to get a decent night’s sleep tonight. Let’s go.
‘Natural, huh? Why’s that then, kid?’
Craig rolled his eyes. God, his dad was so stupid sometimes.
‘Because we’ll have other things to worry about? More important things?’ Sighing, he hopped off the stool, turning to the bathroom door and using it as a seat instead.
‘Like… his meds. He’s getting better, yeah, but I don’t think he’ll ever not need them. So I’ve gotta keep on top of it, like, with a chart or something. Waaaay more important than morning breath, so I’ve gotta have that down on autopilot.’
Thomas nodded. ‘So, you’re going to be his little PA? Is that it?’
‘Ugh, no, dad. Obviously.’ The ten year old stood up, glaring at the redhead like there was something wrong with him. ‘I’m his partner, I’m gonna do loads of stuff for him, just like he does for me.’ He huffed, sticking out his chest and beginning the walk to his bedroom, his father trailing close behind.
‘Like share this with him.’ Craig climbed into bed, lifting up a blanket. It was a deep blue, with light off-green stars that glowed in the dark, and was immensely treasured by the boy. ‘He says he doesn’t get cold, but I know better. He’s just saying it to be tough.’ He threw the blanket over his shoulders like a cape, holding it closer. From the second he’d been gifted it, he was inseparable with this thing, the very idea he’d share it with someone really made Thomas question just how close these two actually were.
‘And, and-‘ Craig began, shuffling back and tucking his legs under the duvet, ‘-and I’ve gotta get the best job ever. It’s gotta pay really well. Reeeally well.’
Thomas sat on the end of the bed, grunting as the mattress groaned beneath him. ‘Alright. Why’s that, then? You gonna shower him with gifts?’
The small boy sighed, over exaggerated and with dramatic arm movements. ‘No, dad…’ he began, ‘it’s so he can stay home and do his creative stuff. His art, his music, y’know.’ Craig paused, grabbing at his sheets with his hands for a moment, little fingers clenching into tight fists. ‘I’m not gonna get one of those jobs where I can’t be home, though. I’m not gonna be gone for ages. That’s not fair.’
He looked down, scowling at the thought. His eyebrows knotted to a point and mouth pouting, he huffed a little at his own thought processes, Thomas swearing he saw a flash of worry in his son’s eyes.
‘I get it.’ The tall man replied, patting his son’s head reassuredly. ‘You’re his protector.’ Craig’s head snapped up to meet his dad’s eyes, expression a blank slate to anyone else.
‘Hey- hey, don’t get me wrong, Craig.’ Thomas raised his hands in defence. ‘I can see what you’re thinking, and no. I’m not calling him weak, or, uh- not… great, or anything. I’m just suggesting that you’re the guy to help him out when he needs it, yeah? To put the bad guys in their place?’
Pulling off his hat, the boy played idly with the bobble on top, hands scrunching and exploring the texture. ‘Only if he wants me to.’
‘Yeah.’ The redhead smiled. ‘Only if he wants you to. Can’t let anyone ruin that…’ He paused. How the hell does one describe a male romantic partner? Thomas knew that all he saw when he looked at Tweek was a twitchy little mess, but that’s a million miles from how Craig saw him, so how would he explain his looks? Falling back on the generic, he continued. ‘That… handsome face?’ He sat up, almost proud of himself for relating just so well to his gay little guy.
‘Exactly!’ Came Craig’s almost booming response, stars in his eyes as he grinned up at him. ‘I can’t have anything happen to him like that - and I know he’s the prettiest guy ever because we know blondes are best, right dad?’ Not entirely sure how to react but wanting to encourage his son on such a genuine emotional response, Thomas ruffled Craig’s hair, the dark strands rarely seen uncovered by that damn hat.
That damn hat had now been perched on a bedpost, and tapped just the right number of times to assure its security. Its owner wiggled lower into bed, lying down snugly and holding his blanket securely. He yawned, tongue jutting out gently as his mouth closed.
Thomas smiled warmly, putting his hands on his knees ready to push off to leave. It was not to be though, as Craig rolled on the spot to face upwards and speak again.
‘It’s not gonna be easy, though. Living together. I’m not stupid.’
His dad sighed, under his breath. Crossing his arms in defeat, he closed his eyes. ‘Mhmm?’
‘Like. The coffee. He’s obviously gotta have all that stuff, but it’s gross. He’s not keeping that stuff with my candy, it stinks! I’ll make him his own cabinet for it, with all these little sections and…’ Craig trailed off, yawning, sleep clearly beginning to take him, ‘…and stuff.’
Giving up on lying on his back he curled up again, yawning once more and fighting to keep his eyes open. ‘It’ll… just be us, after all. We’ll have the room… I don’t need…’ Yawn. ‘Kids…’ Yawn. ‘I just need him…’
Sensing the opportunity, Thomas stood up, tucking his son in and turning off the lights, Craig still mumbling away.
‘And… when I marry him… he’s gonna take our name. I…’ Yawn. ‘Want… people to know… he’s… mine…’
Reaching the doorway, Thomas took one final look at the boy, curled up peacefully and sound asleep. With that, he shut the door.
He cleared his throat, dropping his cue cards slightly.
‘At least, that’s how I remember it.’
Looking up at the room, Thomas was greeted with laughter, the guests assembled flitting their gaze between the man and the figure three seats to his right.
In said seat, a very flustered Craig Tucker sat, face fire truck red in embarrassment and head buried in his hands, the only thing stopping him from bolting out of the room being the reassuring shoulder pats from his best man Clyde to his right, and his new husband Tweek to his left.
‘He’s going to kill me for that.’ Thomas smirked, raising a glass to the couple.
Craig looked up at his dad, face the picture of fury, as he mouthed ‘yes I will’, clear enough for the room to see. Just then, his head was jolted to face Tweek, bony hands cupping his chin,the cool metal of their new ring a stark contrast against his hot skin.
‘Nngh.. you’re so cute, man.’ The blonde smiled, kissing the tip of his husband’s nose.
‘Ahg, honey…’ Craig protested, reciprocating the kiss against his lips. He paused, looking down before reestablishing eye contact. ‘I meant every word, you know.’
‘I know you did, Craig. And I know you still do.’