Chapter 5 - Day with Daddy.

‘What the hell was the dark good smelling person doing?’ Kevan wondered for the third or fourth time.

The good smelling one was blah, blah, blahing at him, waving around this little blue thing and making the most ridiculous faces! Then he’d try and stick the blue thing in Kevan’s mouth. Gross! Kevan repeatedly spit the damn thing back out, but the good smelling one didn’t seem to get it. He’d just pick the thing up and shove it in Kevan again. What a dolt!

Now the good smelling one was putting the blue thing in his own mouth. Whatever. If the nutcase wanted the annoying blue thing, he could have it. Kevan didn’t want anything to do with it. It tasted really bad and smelled kinda funny too. Most importantly, the little blue thing did nothing to help his once again sore tummy.

Kevan was disappointed that the good smelling one was turning out to be almost as useless as the big goofy person thing and the yellow person thing. He’d hoped, now that the good smelling one seemed to have taken over, that action would be taken and the problem of his upset tummy would be resolved. But, based on the good smelling one’s silly antics so far this morning, it didn’t seem likely.

Why was it so hard to find good help these days? Training up person things in the proper manner with which to care for a Kevan was incredibly tedious. They didn’t seem very smart and had a huge learning curve. Kevan was actually starting to feel bad for the poor, silly things.

With the infant equivalent to a big resigned sigh (which was manifested in the adult world as just a different type of cry - this one a little quieter and more breathy), Kevan resolved to keep trying no matter how difficult the person things seemed. He was a very determined infant. He didn’t dislike the person things. They were okay most of the time. He would just have to redouble his efforts to communicate with them.

Once more, Kevan opened his pretty little bowed lips and let forth his most expressive yowl.

“Oh, Sonnyboy! Blah blah blah. Daddy blah blah blah, Sonnyboy. Blah. Blah blah blah. Blah, Sonnyboy, blah,” the good smelling one babbled his useless noises at Kevan again.

Oh, bother!

Brian was willing to concede that Justin might be right about Kevan crying more than was strictly necessary.

The morning together with his son had gone so well and the baby had been easy to care for. Brian figured the rest of the day with his kid would be a piece of cake. Then, not twenty minutes after Justin had run screaming and laughing maniacally from the house, Kevan woke up from his nap and became another person altogether. Or maybe not a person at all - maybe, as Justin had hinted, he wasn't really a baby at all but some demonically possessed monster Hell bent on destroying Brian's hearing.

It wasn't just any old crying either. In the past when Kevan had cried it had only been minorly annoying - merely a signal to the parent that the baby needed something. These cries though we're different. It was as if the screaming howl the Little Devil Child was emitting now was scientifically engineered to the perfect frequency to pierce a human eardrum. If there were any crystal wine goblets nearby they would have long ago shattered. Dogs for blocks around would howl in sympathy at the sound. Bats flying in the vicinity were probably dying in droves as the sound of Kevan's wailing corrupted their ultrasonic navigation causing them to fly into buildings and walls. It's possible that the signal to radios in the neighborhood, as well local air traffic control radar, had been disrupted by the sound. Aliens flying through Earth's quadrant of the Milky Way had even changed course after intercepting the noise on their communications devices.

It was THAT bad!

After changing the grossest diaper he'd ever had the misfortune of experiencing, Brian had tried to nurse Kevan but the baby was fussy and wouldn't latch on like he usually did. Brian had tried using a bottle even but that didn't work either. He'd tried singing Kevan's favorite lullaby. He'd tried singing disco tunes a la Babylon. He'd tried rocking the baby. He'd tried distracting Kevan with toys. Nothing stopped the fucking screech!

Now he was just trying to plug up the Little Devil Child's screech hole.

"Please, Sonnyboy. Please take the binky for Daddy! Please, please, please, Sonnyboy," Brian had found the little blue pacifier in the drawer in the nursery and was trying desperately to get the baby to suck on it. "See? Watch Daddy. See, you suck on it like this and it'll shut you up and Daddy won't go insane, Sonnyboy," Brian demonstrated by sticking the binky in his own mouth and sucking on it. "Now you, Sonnyboy! Come on! You can do it. Think titty! Think cock! Whatever gets you going. Please, Sonnyboy. Please!"

Kevan promptly spit the binky out every single time. After ten minutes of trying with the pacifier, the decibel level of the baby's cries impossibly increased several points and Brian gave up.

Brian stood there just glowering at the Little Devil Child. The LDC stared back at him, waved his baby arms and cried some more. It was a standoff that Brian couldn't possibly win. Kevan would win by mere attrition as soon as Brian collapsed with broken bleeding ears.

Brian wasn't willing to admit defeat yet. But he definitely needed reinforcements. If the LDC wanted to declare war on his father's sanity, Brian would give him a war. And it was time to amass his army.

Brian approached the gang's favorite booth in the Liberty Diner and dropped the baby carrier down on the table top. The sudden drop startled Kevan enough that he actually stopped crying momentarily. Brian was almost about to breath a sigh of relief when the LDC remembered where he'd left off and resumed his wailing. Brian collapsed onto the seat next to Michael.

"Anybody want a used kid," Brian tried to muster up a smile to prove to his listeners that he was only joking but gave it up as too much effort. "He may be slightly defective - his off switch doesn't work worth a damn - but I'd let you have him for cheap!"

"Brian! And my sweet little Kevan!" Debbie crooned as soon as she emerged from the kitchen and noted her new visitors.

Grandma Deb quickly stuffed her order pad in the pocket of her apron and scooped up her newest grandkid. Kevan was startled by the movement as well as the odd person who was now rudely blowing raspberries on his exposed tummy and making nonsense noises at him. At least the surprise shut up his crying and that made Brian happy.

"What's wrong, Stud," Debbie asked, immediately noting Brian's harried countenance. "Is my little angel here giving his daddy a workout? Huh? Not my precious little Kevan angel. No!"

"Sorry to break it to you, Deb, but your precious little angel is actually hell spawn bent on subjugating the human race," Brian quipped, scowling at the evil LDC.

"Welcome to full-time parenthood, Brian," Debbie replied, breaking into peals of laughter at her surrogate son's defeated look. "It's not as easy as it looks, is it?"

Brian wasn't about to admit anything. He just gave Debbie a snarky leer and then glared over at the peanut gallery in order to silence the expected teasing comments from the rest of his friends. Ted's mouth was open and he was just about to hit Brian with a real zinger, but the look caused him to stop and swallow his comment. He'd heard new parents were liable to snap unexpectedly and had been known to resort to violence.

"Well, you happen to be in luck, kiddo. I'm off in five minutes. And, if you're nice to me, I might be willing to give you a bit of a break," Deb offered, amused when she saw the sparkle in Brian's eye that the idea of a break, however short, gave rise to. "I'm heading home to start cooking for tonight's family dinner. How about I take this little sweetheart with me and you can pick him up tonight when you and Sunshine come to dinner for a change?"

The entire table laughed at the look of relief on Brian's face at Deb's generous offer.

As soon as Deb exited the Diner with a still sniffling Kevan in tow, Brian relaxed and became a completely different person. He seemed calm, self-confident and at ease. He joined in with the rest of the gang's banter, throwing back sarcastic comments and mild put downs just like back in the good old days. Somehow he even looked more like his old 'Studly' self.

"So where's the Boy Wonder today, Brian," Mikey asked with more than a hint of his old jealousy evident. "Did he just run off and abandon you with Kevan for the whole day? You really should make him take a bit more responsibility with the kid, Brian. It's not fair to put all the parenting crap on you."

"Mikey," Brian turned to his old friend with a warning in his eye. "You know how we talked about you opening your mouth when you really have no idea what the hell you're talking about? Well this is one of those times. I suggest you shut the fuck up before you end up eating your size ten Keds."

"But, Briannnn," Michael started to protest, unwilling to let such unfair treatment of his best friend go without even a comment.

"Shut it, Mikey!" Brian ordered.

"How is Justin, Brian," Emmett asked as soon as Michael looked like he'd take the advice and drop the subject. "He was definitely looking a bit dazed when I left Britin's Chapel on Friday. I know he's got just a ton of studying to do before his midterms. I hope he's okay."

"Justin's fine, Honeycutt," Brian responded, pausing to allow his friend to voice the usual admonishment - 'don't call me Honeycutt!' - before he continued. "He ran off to the library as soon as he woke up this morning. It sounds like the lad's got a ton on his plate this week for school. Which is why I got a turn at Daddy Duty for the Little Devil Child."

"Poor Brian. Forced to spend the day with your own evil offspring," Ted teased and got a french fry from off of Michael's plate thrown in his face as a result.

"Yeah, well, don't joke about it until you've tried it yourself, Theodore," Brian continued good naturedly. "I fucking thought Justin was completely overreacting about the crying shit until today. But, fuck it all, that baby's got lungs you wouldn't believe and stamina - it's fucking amazing how long he can cry."

"At one point, the LDC was laying on the bed while I was changing and just screeching away nonstop and for a minute I looked at the pillow lying next to him and actually thought about putting the damn pillow over his annoying little face. I mean, fuck, I'd never actually do it, but it's like the idea just popped into my head without my permission. I really had to think for a minute or two before it came to me why that would be a bad idea. Just the thought that I could ever do that shit scared the crap out of me," Brian confessed with more than a trace of actual apprehension apparent in his voice.

"Don't beat yourself up about that, Honey," Emmett was quick to reassure Brian. "I'm sure that every parent feels like that at least once. It's totally natural. Besides, we know you'd never actually do anything to hurt that baby. It's just hard when he's so inconsolable like he's been lately. I ought to know since I'm there every morning."

“Yeah, well, I'm just fucking grateful Deb was here or you never know," Brian admitted to his friends.

"Excuse me, Brian? I mean, Mr. Kinney," the discussion of infanticide was thankfully interrupted at this point by the approach of a shaggy haired twenty-something Twinkie who was holding a magazine in his hands.

"Not interested," Brian threw out his standard response to all Twink's except his one special blond.

"Oh, um, I-I-I wasn't hitting on you, Sir," the twink stammered. "I-I-I was hoping I could get your autograph." Here the Twink held out the magazine which just happened to be a copy of the GQ issue where Brian had come out about his pregnancy. "I'm a huge fan of yours, Brian. You're such an inspiration. It's just so fabulous to meet you in person and all."

Brian finally really looked at the kid. He was average height and build. Shaggy light brown hair with golden highlights. Goofy crooked smile. Not bad looking but nothing really special until you noticed his amazingly bright grey-blue eyes. Those eyes turned the kid from a nobody into a real looker. Brian approved - the kid was fuckable.

"Sure, kid," Brian conceded, flattered really that someone recognized him.

The twink was almost ecstatic by now. He handed over the magazine and dug a silver marker out of the big black oversized bag which was hanging off his shoulder. Brian turned to the inside cover where the Armani ad was and, on the picture of him seen from the side with his big Prego belly, he started to sign his initials.

"Could you write, 'To Taggart'? That's me," the boy twittered and smiled at Brian.

Brian compliantly added a 'To Taggart' above his scrawled 'BAK' and tossed it back to the waiting fan.

“Thank you so much, Brian. I CAN call you Brian, right? I mean, I feel like I know you. You’re just such an inspiration to me and all gay men,” the kid gushed, moving even closer to where Brian was sitting instead of taking his autograph and leaving. “The way you came out and announced to the world not only that you were gay but that you were having a baby and you didn’t care how anybody saw you because you knew you were the best man you could ever be . . .”

“Uh, yeah, kid. Whatever. But, you know I didn’t really have much of a choice. It’s not like I could have hid the fact that I’m some kind of mutant once I was eight months pregnant,” Brian tried to lighten up the conversation.

“Oh, no, Brian. Nobody thinks of you like that. I mean, you’re just perfect the way you are,” the boy jumped in to defend his new idol from himself.

“Not to be rude or anything,” Ted broke into the conversation at this point, “but we are trying to have a meal and a conversation here. So, now that you have your autograph, if you wouldn’t mind . . .” Ted made a shooing motion with his hands in the boy’s direction.

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Sorry, Brian. Thanks again for the autograph,” Taggart repeated obsequiously as he slowly backed away, seemingly reluctant to even take his eyes off of Brian.

“Can’t say as I think much of your fanclub, Brian, especially if that’s an example,” Emmett commented as soon as the boy was out of earshot.

Brian just ignored the comment, not even bothering to shrug off Em’s disdain. He guessed it was a bit flattering and all, but he didn’t really need any more annoying groupies bugging him. The minor little blip in the party was soon forgotten though and the guys turned their conversation back to the usual rounds of gossip, trash talk and rumor mongering. It felt really nice to be back on the Avenue . . .

Well, it did for at least for the next fifteen minutes, which was when the next Prego Stud Groupie showed up. After that, it seemed that open season had been declared on Brian’s autograph. At one point there was even a bit of a line stretching away from their booth towards the front of the Diner. Most of these people didn’t have a copy of GQ with them and so they were asking him to sign all sorts of crazy shit. Brian drew the line at signing one guy’s ass though. Not that he was opposed in general terms to leaving his mark on a guy’s ass, but he was getting just a bit pissed off at all the interruptions by then. So he declined, as politely as possible for Brian Kinney (which meant only that he didn’t outright tell the guy to ‘Fuck Off’).

“I’m getting the fuck out of here,” Brian declared as soon as ass autograph guy was dispatched.

“We should probably go too, Brian,” Michael immediately followed on his friends heels. “It’s almost time to head to Ma’s for dinner anyway. Can I bum a ride from you?’

“Shit! I guess I kinda do have to go, don’t I? So much for getting to the gym today,” Brian grumbled half-heartedly, torn between his urge to get some quiet time to himself and the gut-felt need to check up on his son. Brian pulled out his phone as he shepherded Michael in front of him and down the street to where he’d parked his new Audi.

“Hey, Sunshine! We’ve been summoned to the Novotny Residence for dinner,” Brian announced without any greeting when Justin answered. “You were ordered to make an appearance too, so get your ass in gear!”

The drive over to Debbie’s took less than ten minutes. For most people it took longer to find a parking space on the crowded street than it did to drive the short distance. Of course, Brian wasn’t most people and his innate Parking Karma meant he pulled right up to the spot directly in front of the Novotny house without any trouble at all. Therefore, Michael and Brian were inside the house and already seated with drinks in hand long before Ted and Emmett came through the front door.

“Hey Deb! So where’s the LDC?” was the first thing out of Brian’s mouth.

“He’s upstairs in the portable crib in Michael’s old room. By the way, that baby was just exhausted, Brian. What have you been doing to him? He was zonked out two seconds after I left the Diner.” Deb answered accusingly.

“What have WE been doing to HIM?” Brian’s back went up at that. “We haven’t done anything to him. He’s the one keeping everyone up all night and crying half the day. Poor Sunshine was fucking bawling his eyes out last night after spending the afternoon with the little screamer. I can’t believe he’s still sleeping for you. Maybe I should go check on him.”

“You just sit your ass down, Brian, and leave that baby be! He’s fine. If you go up there you’ll just wake him up and then he WILL start crying,” Debbie commanded, pushing Brian back down onto the couch with one imperious hand.

“You’re awful pushy for a sweet little old Grandma, Deb. But, whatever. Just give me the baby monitor then so I can hear if he wakes up or anything,” the protective papa capitulated.

“There’s no monitor. The door to the room is open and you really don’t need that crap,” Debbie, the expert parenting coach advised. “Trust me, honey, there ain’t nothing wrong with that kid’s lungs. When the baby wakes up and wants attention you’ll hear him all right. And in the meantime, you need to just chill out and relax. No need to jump to attention every time the kid makes a noise. You’ll wear yourself out like that and the baby will end up a nervous wreck too. Now, have a beer, relax and let Debbie take care of things.”

Brian reluctantly leaned back into the couch where he’d been ordered to sit. It just felt so wrong not to have a baby monitor so he could hear if Kevan needed him. Brian and Justin had always had the monitor on at home. Hell, Justin carried that thing around with him constantly. Brian was a little more relaxed about it - he only wanted the monitor on and the receiver somewhere in the same room with him - but still it was disconcerting not to be able to hear the baby at all. Brian didn’t want to alienate one of their best babysitters though, so he did as he was told, sat on the couch, drank his beer and said nothing.

Justin blew through the door about twenty minutes later - just before Deb started putting the food on the table, thankfully, or else he’d have been in trouble for being late. The boy seemed in much, much better spirits than he had been when he bailed from Britin’s Chapel earlier in the day. He even gave Brian one of his best sunshine smiles and a big, tongue-filled kiss as soon as he got near. It seemed that a day off of daddy duty had done the boy a world of good.

“Hey! Where’s your Sobbing Spawn of Satan?” was the first thing he asked as he scooted his chair up closer to the table.

“My Angel, Kevan, is asleep upstairs, Sunshine,” Deb answered for Brian. “And, just to head off where I already know this conversation is going, you are NOT going to go up there and check on him. There is NO baby monitor. He will be fine and if he wakes up for real we’ll hear just fine once he starts crying. Now, sit down, close your trap and eat before the Pasta Carbonara gets cold.”

Justin snapped his jaw closed with an audible clamping sound. He looked imploringly at Brian who mutely shook his head in a warning gesture, indicating that he shouldn’t ask. As soon as Deb was assured that she’d won this particular argument, she amiably handed the large pasta serving bowl to Justin and then moved on with her usual round of directions to everyone present about how to serve the food. Justin knew not to rock the boat and quietly munched on his pasta without further comment.

And, miracle of miracles, Kevan actually stayed asleep throughout the entirety of dinner. Or at least everyone assumed he was asleep upstairs since there was no outright screaming or wailing. Once the meal was over, the dishes washed and the leftovers were boxed up and parceled out to those Deb deemed in the greatest need of future meals, Justin was finally allowed to go upstairs and see his son. Since he’d been gone for the majority of the day, it was one of the longest spans of time he’d ever been away from his little man. The proud papa was definitely jonesing for some Kevan time.

The rest of the evening went by pleasantly. Kevan was more complaisant than Justin or Emmett had seen him in weeks. He didn’t even seem to mind being passed around while everyone in the family took turns giving him cuddles. It was truly a miracle as far as Justin was concerned. He made a note to speak to Debbie later and see if he could wheedle her secret cure for colic out of her. But, in the meantime, Justin enjoyed his time hanging out with the family, playing with Gus and proudly watching everyone compliment his son.

It was an almost idyllic time. A time to look back on fondly. A time meant to lull the new fathers into an unwarranted sense of security and peace.  A time before the return of the LDC.