seven hours, four scratches, six and half rampages, and two diapers later and brendon was exhausted. the good dinosaur played on mute as brendons head lolled to the side, slumping against marcus'. soft breathing emitted from the pair as they napped, exhausted by the days activity.
it had been smooth sailing, with marcus sat in front of tv and babbling to himself. he would make the occasional observation, pointing it out to brendon at least three times before returning to the screen, but the older didn't exist outside of that.
and then ten am occurred.
the toddler glanced over at brendon with glossy eyes, giving him 5 seconds to wonder what was wrong before the boy started wailing. for the second time that morning, brendon panicked and floundered for a solution. the mom-wiki's suggestions helped, his humming and cuddling quieted the child, but his cries never fully stopped.
after some unsuccessful interrogation, marcus finally whimpered something about being hungry. a whole new journey for brendon. he ended up making a concoction he called a poptart sandwich: two cookie dough poptarts with peanut butter gluing them together. that seemed to heal marcus' distress, causing him to stare at brendon as if he were a culinary god.
brendon hadn't even considered a sugar rush.
once the whirlwind of three year old energy struck, paused for brendon to figure out a diaper (with some help from marcus) and lose the boys pants, there was nothing left but a minefield of toys waiting to kill someone's feet and the pair curled up on the couch.
marcus let out a soft sigh, readjusting his head against brendons chest as his brown curls tickled the man's chin. the older let out a gentle snort at that, tucking his face into the locks.
a peaceful tone set the mood of the apartment, one similar to that after a storm. trees are down and lawns are wrecked, but there's just a quaint silence resting over the damage.
the door opening didn't cause either of them to stir, nor did the sound of ryans keys hitting the counter top or him kicking off his shoes. the father let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair and listened for his son. perplexed by the overwhelming silence, ryan tiptoed down the entry way, peering into the kitchen for a sign of life.
a can of jif laid open on the island's countertop, but no marcus or brendon. ryan frowned as he walked into the living room and his eyebrows knotted when he saw an undistinguishable lump on the sofa.
he began to approach the lump, his foot landing on top of a small car.
"fuckfuckfuckfuck" the man swore under his breath, trying to keep quiet as he hobbled behind the furniture.
brendons eyes fluttered open at that, gazing up at the injured intruder in confusion.
"oh.... hey." he mumbled, shifting the passed out toddler on his torso.
"hey!" ryan replied, overly cheery to mask the pain shooting through his foot, "i see you and marcus got on fine!"
"hmm?... oh, yeah. he's pretty cool. sorry 'bout the toys. we kinda conked out." brendons voice was groggy as he gestured around him to the mess pooling around the couch.
"no! that's fine! i mean, marcus seems to have had a good time. and it's you two's first day together and he slept on you. that's pretty rare." the older rattled, picking up stray toys and throwing them in a large blue storage bin.
brendon gave a sleepy nod as he propped himself up against the back of the chair, still holding the toddler against him, "he sleeps pretty sound."
"not usually. you must have tuckered him out."
choosing not to mention that it was probably a sugar crash, the younger just nodded and rubbed the child's back.
"we kept busy." he shrugged and marcus began to stir. ryan walked to the front of the couch, peeling his drowsy son from brendon as he cooed, "hey, bub, youre up."
the toddler just slumped against the man's shoulders, limp in his arms.
"he takes a bit to wake up."
brendon nodded, now fully sitting up.
"him and me both."
ryan chuckled at that, mellowed small
talk radiating through the living room as marcus slowly came to his senses. the boy clung tightly to his father, babbling with random spouts of actual words.
in all honesty, ryan still wasn't too sure about brendon. nothing detrimental had happened and he got on with his son fine, but ryan was always going to be overly protective. even if fucking martha stewart had his child.
however, brendon was the cheapest available and ryan needed all the money he could keep. plus, brendon was anything but unpleasant. so ryan just smiled and set marcus down, letting him toddle away to find a toy.
"so, brendon, since day one was successful, would you like to stay for dinner?"
