Husband for the Holidays

And now with more sugar than a barrel of candy canes…

Husband for the Holidays
Adjustments

“The book says…”

“Fuck the book! And Dr. Brinks can go play in traffic for all I care.”

“Preston…”

Blue eyes blazing, Preston shot him a deadly glare.

Smartly, Carter shut up, fighting to keep the twitch out of his lips.

The babies had been home for nearly a week and Preston was acclimatizing well…for the most part.

“He does it on purpose!”

Carter knew he should keep quiet, but he just couldn’t. “He doesn’t do it on purpose. He’s just a baby, he’s hardly Machiavelli.”

“Really? How many times has he pissed all over you when you change him?”

“…None.”

“Exactly!” Preston crowed triumphantly. “He only does it with me. On purpose.”

Carter arched an eyebrow. “It’s all in your head.”

“He does it on purpose. He hates me.” Preston repeated with conviction.

Carter looked unconvinced but then the baby in question flailed on the change table, letting out an ear-piercing squeal. He winced, “Why don’t you let me finish changing him, while you wash up?”

Preston looked like he wanted to protest and then gave up, flinging his hands up and disappearing in the direction of the bathroom.

Carter saddled up to the change table. The chubby, fair-haired baby on the table was the darker-eyed Beckett. Cameron was in his crib nearby, watching the action intently with a pacifier in his mouth.

Though they looked nearly identical, their personalities where quite different. Beckett was proving to be the more difficult of the twins. When he wasn’t happy, he made damn sure everyone knew about it. He screamed bloody murder at the tip of a hat. Cameron, on the other hand, was a laidback baby. He only cried when he was wet or hungry or when Beckett set him off.

“You’re a troublemaker,” Carter scolded lightly, maneuvering a new diaper in place. Beckett smiled up at him, still red-faced from his recent screaming. Carter fixed the diaper and rummaged in the drawers for something to cloth him in. He pulled out a white and red stripped coverall . He pulled the small coverall in place and snapped it up.

Next he picked Beckett up and bounced him lightly, holding him close.

The baby had his face turned towards Carter’s chest and tried to gum one the buttons on his dress shirt. He gently detached the baby’s mouth.

“Come on, Mr. McCall, let’s see go back out and see if your uncle has come to his senses.”

XoX XXX XoX

The next day, Carter stared resolutely at the expense reports on his computer. The cost to refurbish the booths was important dammit! Certainly much more important than whatever was happening in the bathroom.

But… It had gone strangely quiet in there.

Preston had informed him not that long ago that he was going to bath the babies before putting them down for a nap. It had been a noisy affair at first, but now the squealing and splashing had stopped. Maybe he should check on them, just to make sure they hadn’t drowned or something. Just one quick look to make sure the babies’ heads were above water.

His eyes left the computer and he contorted in his chair, trying to see down the hall into the bathroom. He leaned back onto the back chair legs to get a better angle and then promptly rocked forward again.

Preston had taken his clothes off. Well, his shirt at least. He knelt at the edge of the marble tub, his broad back on display.

The younger man was using a washcloth to scrub at Cameron’s hands. And Beckett was ... Carter’s gaze strayed over to the other baby boy to see what he was doing. When he saw, he called sharply, "Beckett!"

Preston’s attention, which had been focused on Cameron, shifted to the other baby at Carter’s harsh-sounding call.

In the water, Beckett was seated in a plastic infant bathing seat, mouth open, big bar of soap clutched in both chubby hands lifted half way to his lips, frozen in the position Carter had caught him in.

Preston plucked the bar from his slippery fists. He looked back over his shoulder at Carter sheepishly. “I suppose there is something in that book of yours about not letting babies eat soap?"

“Maybe you should bath them separately so they both get your complete attention.” Carter suggested, abandoning his work and walking over to the bathroom, stopping in the doorway.

Beckett looked back and forth between them, then down at Preston’s hand, which rested on the ledge of the tub, holding the yummy looking cream-coloured soap. Mouth wide open he leaned towards it, tiny pink tongue eagerly extended outwards.

"It’s not that easy,” Preston defended himself, “What would I do with the other one while his brother got his bath?”

"Eww!" Both men looked down to see Beckett sputtering and wiping his tongue on the back of his hand.

"Now look what you’ve done." Preston and Carter accused at the same time.

"What I’ve done? You distracted me!" Preston growled.

"You were holding it." Carter countered.

Preston huffed. “Whatever, can you finish with Beckett if I get Cameron dried and in his pajamas?”

“Fine.” Carter held out his hand and Preston slapped the soap into it.

Grabbing a fluffy blue towel, Preston lifted Cameron from the water and wrapped him up, holding him against his bare chest. He headed back towards the nursery.

Carter watched him go, appreciating the view of Preston’s toned chest and back misted with glistening beads of water from the earlier splashing.

From the first day Preston had walked into his club he had recognized the young man was stunning, despite the glasses and dash of freckles which gave him a wholesome look not often seen in the Forum. If it had been anyone else, Carter would have hired him as a dancer on the spot, he would have been a money-maker. But Preston had been different from the start - well-bred, confident but not cocky, with a dry sense of humor, and clearly razor smart. And though Carter always made sure his dancers were treated well, he had known there was no way he was going to let Preston strip in front of the patrons night after night. So he had hired Preston as server instead.

Still though, that didn’t stop Carter from having the odd fantasy about Preston as one of his dancers, seductively moving his body and stripping off his clothes for Carter alone. Maybe in one of those tiny red G-strings Miska favoured…

"EWW!"

Carter’s attention snapped back down to Beckett – his tiny nose was scrunched in disgust, soap bubbles clinging to his outstretched tongue.

"Why," Carter swore, clearly astounded, “Would you possibly do that again?!”

XoX XXX XoX

“Frosty the snowman was a something, something soul. With a corncob pipe and a la la la
And two eyes made out of coal. Frosty the snowman was a – ”

“What are you doing?” Carter asked grouchily. He leaned around the door to the nursery where Preston was singing to the babies. “I’m trying to get through the financial reports that came in today.”

“I’m trying to get Cameron to go to sleep.” Preston countered. “It’s your stupid book that suggested it. Dr. Brinks says singing to the babies has all sorts of advantages.”

“You don’t even know all the words.”

“I don’t.” Preston rocked the baby in his hands. It was Cameron. Beckett was already lying down.

“And you’re singing the same line over and over.”

“Yeah, it’s only line I know.”

“Well, stop.”

“Hey, it just so happens that the boys love it. Don’t you, Cam?”

Cameron, realizing both men were paying attention to him all of a sudden, beamed, “Peekboo!”

Carter arched an eyebrow.

“I played peek-a-boo with him once and only once. It left a lasting impression.” Preston explained.

Carter rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Just stop with the singing.”

“Fine, fine, no more Frosty.”

Carter ruefully shook his head and started to walk away.

Preston put Cameron down in his crib. He let Carter get half way down the hallway and then sang out, “Deck the halls with boughs of holly. Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la! Something, something, something, something. Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!”

“Preston!”

His roar was greeted by three sets of giggles from the nursery. Okay, he definitely wasn’t to get the quiet he needed to concentrate on his work anytime soon.

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

XoX XXX XoX

Later in the night, after the boys fell asleep, Preston padded back out in the living room. He had changed into his plaid pajama pants and an old hoodie, feet bare against the carpet. He had discarded his contacts in favour of his glasses as well.

Carter was sitting on the couch, papers and binders spread out on the coffee table, tie loosened around his neck. He looked up when Preston came in.

“Babies finally sleeping?”

“For now.” Preston smiled, coming up behind the sofa and leaning against the back. “Still working?”

“Going through the receivables for the year. Then I can decide if I want to increase the number of new memberships offered in the new year or maintain our current numbers.”

“Need any help?”

Carter looked up at him, dubious.

“C’mon, this is the sort of thing I’ve been going to school for for years,” Preston stressed. “And it’s the least I can do for distracting you before.”

Carter shifted over on the sofa. “Do you want the hard copies or the electronic ones?”

Preston grabbed the iPad and settled at the other end of the sofa, tucking his feet up on the seat, his toes curled up against Carter’s thigh. “Electronic, grandpa.”

“Ha ha.”

They went to work and Carter quickly realized Preston knew exactly what he was doing. “Hey, you’re good at this.”

Preston looked up, surprised by the outburst, an arrogant smirk quickly drifted over his lips. “Yeah. I am. Don’t sound so surprised.”

“And here I thought the sexy librarian thing was just a look you went for.” Carter teasingly poked the edge of the glasses Preston wore.

“Keep it up and you’ll be doing all the work yourself,” Preston cautioned, swatting Carter’s fingers away.

“Yes, Boss,” Carter mocked with an unrepentant grin.

Preston harrumphed and went back to work, fingers flying across the screen, eyes bright and absorbed in the numbers.

Carter couldn’t force the grin off his lips, eventually he stopped trying and relaxed a little. He stretched out, papers on his lap. He rested his arm on the back of sofa behind Preston’s head. As he read, his fingers started playing with the ends of Preston’s hair.

Neither one of them mentioned it.

XoX XXX XoX

Carter came home early the next day, Preston’s help on the accounts had saved him hours last night, and he was absurdly eager to share with Preston what decisions had been made about the memberships for the coming year. It wasn’t a familiar position for Carter to be in. He wasn’t used to being eager to come home and share his day, he wasn’t used to wanting to share his ideas with men he slept with, and he definitely wasn’t used to caring what their opinions were about it.

But you aren’t sleeping with Preston, are? a spiteful voice whispered in the back of his head. If you don’t fuck him, how are you supposed to get him out of your system?

Maybe tonight, he thought. They could put the boys to bed. Open some wine. He had several sure-fire tactics for getting a man into his bed within an hour. They had worked on scores of nameless, faceless men in the past. No doubt, they would work on Preston, too.

It wasn’t like he was special.

When the elevator doors opened into the condo, Carter was greeted by the smell of smoke, the air was foggy with it. The babies were wailing as well. Convinced something terrible had happened, his heart seized in his chest and then started racing with adrenaline and fear. He rushed into the kitchen.

One boy (Cameron, he thought) was in his highchair, the other was in the sink off all places. Preston was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the cupboard doors, crying as hard as the babies. Smoked escaped from the oven and there were several trays of hockey-puck like cookies all over the counters.

“What the hell happened?” asked Carter in disbelief.

Preston looked up, taking deep gulping breathes. Face red and blotchy and tear stained. “I…can’t…do…this!”

“What?”

“They were crying all day, and nothing I did helped.” Preston sobbed. “They wouldn’t eat, they wouldn’t sleep. Then I thought I would make Christmas cookies, because my mom always did it for me and Peter growing up. But I burned them all. I couldn’t even do that. Peter would have wanted them to have the same sort of holiday memories we had. I’m letting him down, I know it! I can’t do this!”

Frowning, Carter reached down, grabbing Preston’s arms and hauling him up. “Go have a shower, then take a nap.”

“Did you hear me?” Preston took a deep, shuddering breath, “I don’t think I can do this.”

Carter held his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “You can. Now go take care of yourself. I’ll get everything cleaned up here.”

“I –” Preston tried to resist.

“Don’t even think of arguing.” Carter turned him around and pushed him towards the hall. “Go.”

Once Preston disappeared from sight, Carter went over to the sink. “What in the world are you doing in there, buddy?”

Beckett babbled gibberish. He was covered, Carter realized, by sort of sticky substance, he wasn’t going to hazard a guess as to what.

“Okay, let’s get you cleaned up.”

With warm water, Carter bathed the baby in the sink.

After, he used his fingers to try and brush out the baby’s short, blond hair.

The feel of the baby’s hair, soft and silky, made Carter recall the sensation of Preston’s hair as he had caressed it last night while they worked. At the memory, Carter’ fingertips itched with the desire to repeat the action. To smooth his fingers over Preston’s hair, or worse, to touch that skin, to feel firsthand the heat that radiated off the younger man.

Pushing aside these unsettling thoughts, Carter finished brushing the baby’s hair.

Then he changed both babies and heated some bottles. He didn’t even know if Preston had managed to feed them before his melt down, but better safe than sorry. He sat down with them both in the nursery rocking chair and rocked back and forth. Beckett took the bottle and Cameron fussed until he took it away.

“I think you did it. You broke your uncle today.” Carter looked down at them sternly, “And I had big plans for him tonight.”

Cameron looked chastised by the forbidding tone. Beckett had the audacity to grin.

XoX XXX XoX

By dinner time, Preston had calmed down. By the end of long, scalding shower and nap, he was feeling refreshed, though he was also embarrassed that Carter had witnessed his stress and lack of sleep induced breakdown. While he agonized frequently about whether Peter would be pleased with the job he was doing with the boys, that was the first time he had spoken the worry out loud.

He came out of his bedroom a little chagrinned. Thankfully, Carter didn’t it mention it. All the older man said was, “Hungry? I had the restaurant down the street deliver your favourite.”

Preston managed a smile seeing burger and fries on the table, taken out of their Styrofoam containers.

“How did you know that was my favourite?”

“Please, give me some credit. Whenever you ran to the diner across the street for food during a break, that’s always what I caught you inhaling after.”

Feeling even better, Preston slid down in a chair. “I didn’t know you paid attention to what your staff ate on break.”

“I don’t.”

Preston opened his mouth to question that oddly serious statement but something on the table distracted him. There was a plate of Preston’s cookies, painstakingly scraped of burned bits. “Hey, you saved my cookies.”

“They weren’t that bad.”

Preston arched an eyebrow.

“Uh, okay. They were pretty bad. I don’t think you should drop out of commerce to go into the culinary arts any time soon.”

Despite his horrible day, Preston found himself laughing, relaxed in Carter’s company.

While Preston and Carter ate, Beckett tried to lean out from his high chair to grab at the small plate of cookies on the table. Preston rolled his eyes and picked up the plate.

“What are you doing?” Carter questioned from the other end of the table.

Preston cocked his head to the side. He would have thought it was obvious. “I’m moving the cookies before he gets into them.”

Carter shook his head, “You can’t hope to always be around to keep stuff away from them, they have to learn they can’t just take anything and put it in their mouths. Take the soap for example…”

Preston smirked. “Have you been reading that book again?”

Carter took offense to his tone, “It’s a good book.”

Preston shrugged, and set the plate back down.

Beckett continued to grab for bright coloured, slightly burned cookies, and each time he did, Carter would point his finger at the baby and say, in a strong voice, ‘No’. After the fourth or fifth time Beckett realized he wasn’t going to get away with it and stopped trying.

The dinner finished in comfortable silence, with only the babies’ soft babbles occasionally breaking the quiet. Carter pushed back his chair, picking up the dishes to put them in sink.

As Carter busied himself in the kitchen, Preston leaned forward in his chair and reached for a cookie. There was a sudden, affronted squawk from the high chair.

Beckett extended one tiny digit on his hand, looked straight at Preston and, in his little, surprisingly firm, voice exclaimed, “Nnnno!”

Preston paused, and then burst out laughing. Beckett sounded just like Carter. He dropped the cookie and instead reached around to pull Beckett from his highchair into his lap. He held the little boy on his lap and leaned in, whispering to the baby even as his eyes sought out the striking figure rinsing dishes in the kitchen. “What do you say we share one?” Preston asked, grabbing a cooking and breaking it in two.

“Nnnoooo,” the baby repeated even as he grabbed for it with tiny, eager hands.

“Eat it quickly before Carter gets back. Or we’ll both be in trouble,” Preston directed, demonstrating by popping the half cookie right into his mouth.

Thankfully, Preston and Beckett finished their shared cookie before Carter returned. The older man had a damp cloth with him and he efficiently wiped down Cameron’s face and hands before moving to lift Beckett from Preston’s arms to clean him up to. He noticed as he did so, that Beckett sported crumbs around his small, pink lips.

He cocked an eyebrow and looked down at Preston, “Did he get a cookie? Did you give him a cookie?”

Uh-oh… “No. Of course not.”

Carter turned his intense gaze to Beckett, as if to discover the true answer by coercing Beckett into confessing.

Preston stiffened for a moment with the fear of being exposed and then reminded himself that the baby was unable to point the finger at him out because he didn’t have the vocabulary to do it.

Beckett could, however, throw up incriminating evidence all over the front of Carter’ shirt. And he proceeded to do just that.

Carter frowned in exasperation, “And what is this?”

Preston cringed noticeably. “Throw-up?”

Carter managed to look superior despite Beckett hanging off his arm and baby vomit seeping down his shoulder. He questioned darkly, the answer undeniably clear, “Thrown-up what?”

“Ah…Cookie…”

Carter glared.

“I could… I’ll clean it…”

Carter snorted, placing Beckett back in his high chair and unbuttoning his soiled shirt. Preston did a double take when the solid chest was revealed, sprinkled with hair and became sparse across his stomach, except for a trail that lead lower.

Preston pressed his lips together to stop from licking his lips. God, he loved men with some hair on them, his own chest was pretty much hairless.

Carter disappeared down the hall, muttering something about dry cleaning.

Preston turned to Beckett and scolded, “You couldn’t have spit up on his pants too?”

XoX XXX XoX

“Are you going back to the club tonight?”

It was getting late. Preston had the boys changed in their matching footed-pajamas. He was sitting on the sofa, Cameron in his lap and Beckett on a blanket on the cushions.

“That’s not my plan. It’s Tuesday, it’ll be slow and I don’t have any more work to catch up on.” Carter crossed the living room floor. He had changed into a casual pair of jeans and a grey pull over.

Cameron giggled and clapped his hands together watching Preston dangle a colour toy above his head. The sound drew Carter’s attention and he looked over to watch Preston shake the toy, making it rattle and squeak, much to Cameron’s delight. Preston had the TV on with the sound turned low, some Christmas cartoon showing on the screen. He was wearing a ratty T-shirt and track pants, a baby-patterned cloth flung over his shoulder.

It wasn’t exactly the romantic night Carter had been planning as he took the elevator up earlier. There was no expensive food, no wine, and definitely no sex. He briefly considered going out. He didn’t have to work, but there was more to do at his club than working. He could pick up another man and get laid tonight after all. He couldn’t seem to muster up the desire to go back out. Instead, he moved to the sofa, sitting down and lifting Beckett onto his lap. His knee knocked against Preston’s lightly.

They began talking about their week; meetings at the club, signing up for winter classes at the university, Beckett and Cameron’s latest accomplishments.

At one point, Preston leaned closer to check on Beckett who rested sleepily in Carter’ arms. Carter looked down watching Preston’s head drop forward.

Preston smiled tenderly, trying to smooth the fly away bits of Beckett’s hair with his fingers. And then, under Carter’ watchful eyes, he pressed a kiss to Beckett’s cheek. The baby giggled, grabbing out to catch a handful of Preston’s hair with drool smeared fingers. Laughing, Preston’s eyes flashed up at Carter, sharing a smile.

Carter felt a quite undeniable thud in the region of his chest where it heart would be as realization set in. He had intended to seduce Preston tonight, and instead Preston was, quite unintentionally, seducing him with diapers, squeaky toys, and baby-spit.

And what was more staggering –it was working.

XoX XXX XoX