Chapter 45: 45. Sick Angel Baby (Byeler and El)
A/N: Hey! I'm working on writing quicker again. I have another chapter written that I actually wrote before this one, but it's full of angst so I wanted to post this cute chapter first. Asher is a name I've always liked, and I don't know if it appears in any of the movies, TV shows or books the boys might have read sometime in their lives, but I decided to name him that. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did while writing it, and I know the prompt didn't say anything about El, but I couldn't help myself and added her in :D Also, hope you like the Byeler! Remember I once told you guys you can request any pairing :). Okay, now enjoy!
PROMPT: Mike and Will raising their one-year-and-a-half adopted baby, by Gav.
Will was stressed out.
To put it plainly, he was stressed out to his very last hair.
Asher had been on daycare for only a week and he had managed to catch an ear infection. One that made the little 18 month old very cranky and hard to deal with.
Mike had talked to his boss and had been granted a few days off. Thank God, because Will wouldn't have been able to take care of their baby by himself.
"Will!" Mike's voice cut through his 5 minute break in the laundry room. "I need some wipes!"
He sighed, running his hands down his face with a deep grunt, and then he got out of his little escape room.
He swung by the nursery, gathering the pack of baby wipes, some diapers and Asher's currently favorite stuffed spaceship toy from the crib.
He walked down the stairs to see his husband bouncing the whimpering baby in his arms, Mike's nose buried in the little brunette curls on top of their son's head.
"Did he poop?" Will questioned softly, laying the baby's stuff on the coffee table pushed to the wall. The living room had been made into a large, pillowed, blanketed space, the tables and couches pushed to the edges of the room so Asher had room to walk around. He was beginning to let go of things to walk on his own, and after a day with a cranky baby in their arms, they had realized that walking or crawling made him be a little less fussy.
"I think so," Mike answered with a sigh, walking carefully to stand in the middle of the splayed-out blanket. "He kind of smells."
"Well, did you check his diaper?"
"I'm scared he will cry if I jostle him too much." Mike admitted with a whisper, throwing him a suffering look while he continued to bounce Asher.
Will couldn't help but snicker. "Bring him here." He sat down on the floor, pulling the baby mat from one of the couches and unfolding it between his legs.
"But he's calm." Mike protested, eying their baby who was still grumbling, but very gently.
"He won't be for long if he has a pile of crap against his butt."
Mike gave him a 'your funeral' look, shrugging lightly before he crouched down to extend their son to him.
Asher started whimpering immediately, wiggling his little feet in anger as his dad took him from his other dad.
"Hey, hey," Will admonished softly, placing the baby on the mat as Mike sat down next to him with a tired sigh, pushing curls out of his face. "What did we agree? No crying for daddy."
It seemed Asher didn't give a damn what they had agreed on, because the minute Will stopped him from rolling on his side, he started wailing.
Mike groaned beside him, throwing his head back. "I told you."
"Shut up." Will scoffed, gripping Asher's legs to pull his shorts down. He managed to unwrap his diaper before a nasty smell filled the living room.
"Yep," Mike pinched his nose. "Definitely poop."
"Give me the wipes." Will demanded over their son's cries, feeling his temples throb with an upcoming headache. Once he had the pack next to him, he went to work. Piling the used wipes on the dirty diaper, he cleaned his son from any residues, rubbing some anti-chaffing cream on his little baby butt and putting a clean diaper on him. "Get rid of this, please."
Mike took the balled-up, dirty diaper from him, standing up quickly and walking away to the kitchen while Will took the crying baby from the floor.
"What is it, buddy? Huh? Does your ear hurt? I know," he rubbed gentle circles on the one-and-a-half year old's back, cuddling the baby against him when Asher leaned his head on his father's shoulder. "I know; it doesn't feel good. You'll be okay, I promise."
Mike returned with clean hands and a moist face, clearly using the moment to refresh his tired head. "Asher," his partner called. "Look who it is!" He took the toy Will had taken from the nursery and sat back down next to him, wiggling the spaceship in the air to call their son's attention.
The baby continued to cry, not even bothering to look at his father. Will sighed, cradling him close while he stood up. He began to bounce Asher up and down, making shushing noises with his mouth in order to sooth the baby.
Right on time, Mike's watch beeped, a blue light blinking on his husband's wrist from the previously set up alarm. "Time for his medicine."
Will sighed deeply, sharing a look with Mike.
Asher didn't like to take his medicine.
Turns out, their son seemed to not like having a syringe full of yucky liquid shoved down his throat every 6 hours. But then again, who did?
"C'mon, baby," Mike muttered as he eyed their son, putting the tip of the syringe inside the bottle and pulling the correct amount out. "Don't give us hell."
"Oh, wow, look at that!" Will pretended to be awed. "What is that, Asher?" He got his son's attention, pointing a finger up at the plain, white ceiling of their living room.
Meanwhile, like a sly ninja, Mike sneaked up behind them, holding Asher's death-serum in one hand. With the practice of the week, Will pinned the baby's arms down very quickly, playing with the curly haired boy as he threw him back, distracting the baby with some giggles while Mike waited for Will's signal.
"Now, now." Will fake-laughed obnoxiously, throwing a look in his husband's direction, giving Mike the signal.
While Asher was still kind-of distracted, he didn't realize the purpose of his currently-holding him father when he grabbed his chubby cheeks in one hand, making his lips pucker up. He realized the treason once his other dad was sticking the plastic thing inside his mouth, scowling and struggling to free himself once Mike started pushing on the syringe's stick to release the medicine. Asher started crying again, the foul taste on his tongue still a weird and uncomfortable sensation.
"Shh, shh, shhh, it's okay, Ash," Will soothed, bouncing the baby up and down while pressing kisses to his wet cheeks. "It'll get you better. You'll be fine in no time!"
"I feel terrible," Mike sighed heavily, capping the bottle of medicine and placing it back inside its box. "I betrayed him."
"Mike," Will laughed. "It's medicine. Of course he's gonna cry. And this will not be the first time we go through this. When he's older, he'll get sick too. Hopefully he understands what the medicine is for then, instead of glaring like he does now."
They didn't know how, but Asher was mastering the art of glaring, even from his young age. Will had a feeling it had something to do with Mike's personality and his own telekinetic sister. Which reminded him of the fact that last night she had said she'd swing by to help them with her sick nephew.
El had been the one to help them with the adoption. As a social worker, she saw a lot of kids being dropped off in foster homes, or even in their own offices (the one she worked in). She was the one who found Asher in the parking lot. The little guy had been in a classical cliché basket, wrapped in a soft blue blanket with an attached note that read 'I'm sorry. I can't take care of him. Please help him.'
His sister had been so shaken up about it. Asher had still been a tiny three-month old. He really couldn't understand how someone would just leave a baby like that, but he was thankful for it. He didn't know Asher's biological parents' situation, but he thanked… destiny, God, luck, whatever it was that made it possible for him and Mike to have their little angel.
El had pushed and pushed with the government, putting pressure every day on the main office so they really took their case and could grant the adoption. Mike and Will would go nearly every day to spend time with Asher in the foster home's nursery, trying to form a bond, but that wasn't really necessary. Will felt the connection ever since the first time he laid eyes on his son. He would never forget that moment; El holding the baby for them to see, Asher's sleepy eyes meeting his own, holding him for the first time, trying not to cry from the warm weight of the baby and Mike's hushed 'hellos'. He had known that there would be a million chances of them not getting the baby. Homophobia was still steadily rising like always, and some people in the Adoption Department weren't too keen on a couple of gay men adopting Asher.
The process had been long; nights full of fearful tears buried in Mike's shirt while they cried at the thought of losing the beautiful baby. El had been a beast. He still recalled the way everyone's hair stood on the backs of their necks when she and the other social worker fought in the main office. His sister's voice had risen to volumes he had never heard, and Mike had gripped his hand tightly when they felt the sudden pressure of energy in the air. Mike had only barely managed to keep from bursting inside the office and pulling his once-upon-a-time girlfriend out, fearing the prospect of her revealing her powers.
But in the end, they got him. They had arranged their house and baby-proofed every corner to assure the AD that they were ready to welcome Asher into their family.
For the second time that day, as if calling her with his mind, right on cue the doorbell rang.
"It must be El." Will said, passing the still whimpering baby to Mike and jumping over the cushions and pillows on the floor.
He opened the door, and indeed, on the other side his petite sister was standing on the 'Welcome' mat.
"Hey," Will greeted her. "Come in."
"I come bearing food." El grinned, wrapping her arms around him once he had closed the door. He chuckled, feeling the bags of food smacking against his back from where she was holding them in her hands.
"Thanks, we barely had breakfast earlier." He sighed, taking the bags from her as she slipped her jacket off and shook her feet free from her flats.
"Yeah, I thought so." She took a minute to observe him, hanging her jacket on the hook on the wall while he inspected the contents of the bags. From the restaurant label, he guessed she had gotten them Italian food. Good, he could really use some pasta at the moment. "You look like hell."
"You should see Mike." He told her tiredly, pointing at the living room with a jerk of his chin.
"Is Asher awake?" She questioned while she began to head in that direction.
"He has slept for, like, seven hours since last night." He threw over his shoulder while he walked to the kitchen to put the food on the counter.
"Hey, shorty." He heard Mike greet his sister.
"Hey," she leaned on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, the interaction familiar after all the shared years. "And hey." She cooed, running gentle fingers on Asher's curls when he turned to face the new voice in the house.
Asher absolutely loved El.
"Oh, her you like today?" Mike huffed when his son extended his arms towards his aunt.
"Shut up, grump," El laughed while she took the baby from him, humming contentedly once she was cradling him close. "He hasn't seen me in a while."
"He spoke to you yesterday on the phone." Mike crossed his arms, watching her hug his (noticeably calmer now) son.
"But did he see me? No. Of course he missed this face, didn't you? Didn't you miss me?" She directed her attention to Asher, pressing noisy kisses to his cheeks. "He's warm," she observed, touching the boy's face with a hand. "Did he take his medicine already?"
"Yes," Will answered, coming in from the kitchen, licking his lips free of any remains of Alfredo sauce. "We gave him the fever one just before you got here."
"Hopefully that takes it down quick." El shared worried glances with the two men while she swung their son from side to side, Asher's little face tucked against her bare neck.
"Maybe you'll be able to make him take a nap," Mike sighed as he threw an arm around Will's shoulders, pulling him close. "He doesn't want any of us today."
She hummed thoughtfully, looking down at her nephew. "I'll try to tire him out first. Why don't you guys go have lunch? You look like you really need a break."
"Oh, yes, thank you, Jesus." Will sighed with a smile, taking Mike's hand in his. "What did we ever do to deserve you?"
"Save me from the rain?" El giggled as he pressed a kiss to her head.
"Be good for aunty, okay? We'll be back." Mike murmured as he rubbed his thumb on Asher's forehead, staring into his son's eyes with a gentle gaze.
"I bought some pasta and garlic bread. Mike, if you eat my cannoli I will murder you." El threatened at their backs while they walked away to the kitchen.
"We'll see about that." He winked over his shoulder.
"Will!" She whined.
"He won't eat it, Ellie, I'll make sure of it." He assured her, sharing a chuckle with his husband.
"She won't be able to tell if we steal a bite, right?" Mike murmured indulgently once they were unwrapping the take-out boxes.
"Only a bite." Will pointed at him, snickering when his eyes went wide with excitement.
They took plates and cups out of the cabinets, falling into a familiar routine with El's quiet singing in the background. They sighed deeply once they were seated on the kitchen stools, their elbows resting on the island and their backs hunched in exhaustion. They shared a laugh, understanding their mutual tiredness.
"What a day, right?" Mike chuckled, while Will reached for the fettuccini.
"You can say that again."
"What a day, right?"
"Ha. Ha." Will deadpanned, giving Mike a look while his husband laughed at his own joke. "Very funny, dad."
"Oh, wow, look at me," Mike gave him a startled look. "I'm already making dad jokes. When did I turn into my father?!" He exclaimed with a horrified face.
Will snickered, pulling some breadsticks from the bag while Mike rolled his fork around the pasta. "Well, you're nearly thirty-three. It was about time, right?"
"I refuse to become Ted Wheeler."
Although he knew he was joking, he couldn't help but put his own fork down, reaching out to grab Mike's hand. "You won't. You're an awesome father, you know?"
Mike gave him a lopsided smile, the wrinkles around his mouth from so many years of laughter appearing on his face. He was aging gracefully, something Will hadn't been worried about because he would always love him, no matter if he looked like a wrinkled raisin. "Thank you. I think you're an amazing father too."
"Even if I take impulsive breaks in the laundry room?" Will chuckled.
"Ah, so that's what you were doing upstairs." Mike smirked, squeezing his hand.
Will gave him a guilty smile, lacing their fingers together. "I take breaks too. And you're the one who's mostly with him. I have work the whole week."
"Yeah, but that's because you work in an actual office. Ah," Will sighed playfully, taking a bite of his pasta. "The pleasures of working from home and being your own boss."
"What's going to happen with the exhibition in Chicago?" Mike questioned as he swallowed a bite from his garlic bread.
"I postponed it," Will shrugged unworried. "My son is sick and I need to take care of him. I was thinking of taking him with me. Like, I know it'll sound rushed, but… I don't want to leave him in the daycare again."
"Me neither," Mike agreed instantly. "I mean, he'll have to be in it, someday… but he's too little. We should enjoy him as much as we can now."
"I like the way you think." Will grinned.
"You have some…" Mike gestured to his mouth.
"What?" He swiped his thumb on the corners of his lips, coming clean-handed.
"Here." Mike leaned in, gripping the back of his head and pressing their lips together. Will hummed, smiling into the kiss as he returned it, sighing softly.
It had been such an erratic day, they hadn't had the time to be alone. It felt good, to be able to have intimate moments with him still.
But of course, when you have a baby, your time isn't really yours anymore.
"Hey," El suddenly materialized in the entrance to the kitchen. "Sorry to interrupt, but he's asleep." She gestured to the drooling baby on her chest, one hand resting on his back and the other securing his legs against her ribs. "Where do I put him?"
"Let me." Will stood up quickly, wiping his hands on a napkin and walking to his sister. With careful movements, they managed to place the sleeping Asher on his father's arms, Will shushing him lightly when he began to fuss. He turned to Mike. "Should I put him in the crib or do I lay him down in the living room?"
"Living room," Mike gulped the mouthful of soda before answering. "That way we can hear him if he wakes up."
"There's something called baby monitors, you know?" El sassed as she walked to the counter, where the food was served. "I'm pretty sure you have plenty of those."
"I know, smartass," Mike snorted at her, passing her a plate. "I just want him to be close enough."
"He won't—", she paused, staring at the insides of a small container before she swung her eyes up. "Michael Wheeler, I told you to not touch my fucking cannoli!" She hissed with narrowed eyes.
Will turned around with a quiet chuckle, tuning the pair out in favor of staring down at his baby son. He could hear El arguing while Mike laughed, and he chuckled again as he leaned down to place Asher on the made-up blanket crib.
"Those two are crazy, baby." He whispered with a smile, taking a tiny pillow and putting it between Asher's arms so he could cuddle with it while he slept. He pushed some curls away from his forehead, marveling once again at the unexpected similarities between them. Asher's hair was brown, two shades darker than Will's, but he had the same frizzy curls that Mike used to struggle with in his younger years. He had creamy skin, a peachy tone that made his cheeks flush when he was out in the sun, similar to Mike's sunburn issues. The only difference that was obvious at first glance were his eyes. They were hazel, sometimes a honey yellow in the morning light, different from Will's green orbs and Mike's dark browns.
But he didn't care about his looks. Asher was his dream baby. Their dream baby. The one he thought he'd never have thanks to his relationship and the unjust society. But here he was, sick and fuzzy, but so very loved.
"Sleep well, my angel baby." He muttered against his son's forehead, smiling when his little nose twitched, and then he was walking away to stop those two from killing each other, not without one last glance at his sick baby.
I think this would take place in the early 2000's; I didn't actually do any research, so I don't know if gay marriage and adoption were legal by then, but let's just say they were, for our ship's sake. Also, I know nothing about medicine so if by accident I overdosed Asher or gave him less than what he should be taking... sorry D: Hope you liked this!
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