Two Pups (bxbxb)

A Calm Day at the Park

Tate's POV

Oliver was staring in horror at our beautiful children. "No...Tate, oh no..."

Elliott was in the shower, which was an absolute tragedy. Not that he was cleaning his body, that was fine, but why wasn't I with him?

Oh, right, because of my stupid brother. Someone had to stay with the kids, and according to Oliver it wasn't fair to have uneven Elliott time, so I had to sit out here and--

"TATE!" Oliver snapped, waving his hand in my face. "Do ya even hear me?! I said 'oh no' for a reason, stupid."

I tore my mournful gaze away from the bathroom door. "What's the matter, love?"

Oliver paused his flailing to give me a sweet look, slight blush on his cheeks. His mouth was open just slightly, in surprise. "Aw. Love?"

"Oh-- um." I'd said the pet name completely subconsciously. "What? Are you going to make fun of me?"

Actually, Oliver was looking like he'd won the lottery. He walked over to give me a sweet kiss. "I like it."

I shoved his stomach. My face was definitely red. "Dork."

Oliver pinched my cheeks, shit-eating grin making his whole face light up. "You're such a cute little softie, Tate. I always said so, huh?"

I pushed his hands away, willing my blush to go away. "Stop it, you're such a jerk-- weren't you just freaking out about something?"

All at once, Oliver's horror returned. "Oh, shit. You went and distracted me by bein' all handsome and sweet. Come see this."

I followed my precious idiot to the crib, where our perfect sons were curled up. They were facing each other, sound asleep.

Oliver gestured at them, face lit with panic. "What do we do?"

I looked back to see if I'd missed anything, but no. Jake had both of his fists curled up by his head, face angled towards Josh. His bald head had started growing blonde peach fuzz, but I still called him egghead to keep the tradition alive.

Josh had every single limb of his spread as far as they possibly could go. It was like he was trying to steal the entire crib space from his brother. Yup, shithead was his official loving nickname.

"Not to be stupid, but what am I supposed to be upset about?" I asked, pausing to bend down and give my boys kisses on their heads.

Oliver scoffed. "Don't ya see how close together their faces are? Pretty soon they'll be makin' out!"

This again.

I took a deep breath. "Oliver. Our babies, who are three weeks old, aren't incestually gay for each other."

He leveled an anxious look at me. "Yet."

Thankfully for my brain cells, the bathroom door swung open and Elliott popped out. Oliver and I both blatantly stared at the way the towel wrapped around his hips and water cascaded down his torso.

"Fuck," Oliver mumbled. "Let's have sex."

Elliott glared. "No, dumb dumb. We're taking the boys to the park to take nature-y selfies and flex on the other families. There's no time for sex."

I wandered over to kiss on Elliott while he stripped down and got dressed. Oliver interrupted our loving make out by whining and saying, "Ellie, come look at our kids."

I facepalmed. Oliver explained the situation to Elliott. Elliott facepalmed.

"They aren't gay for each other, Ollie! You need to stop worrying about this."