Fic: Make It Better
Wrote a new little drabbley fic! And I'm not gonna lie, this fic was totally inspired by the "Ethan nuzzle" that occurred two episodes ago, when he was sitting with Luke on the Snyders' porch and they were being all adorable. :-)
Title: Make It Better
Characters: Luke/Noah, Ethan, little bit of Lily
Genre: Romance-ish
Rating: PG-13 (towards the end)
Summary: Luke and Noah spend an eventful Saturday afternoon with Ethan.
As always, please drop me a line if you like it! I hope you do! Hee. :-)
I looked down to find Ethan tugging on my pant leg.
“What’s up, little man?” I asked him, reaching to ruffle his hair.
Ethan grinned up at me and stretched his arms up. “Fly me Superman!” he shouted, bouncing in place.
“O-kay,” I replied enthusiastically, bending to scoop him up. I tucked both arms underneath him, one under his belly and the other under his hips, and lifted him into the air as I straightened up. He stretched his arms in front of him, Superman-style, and we began to zoom around the living room, the both of us making boisterous airplane noises.
“Oh, no, watch out, watch out!” I cried gleefully, running him towards the door to upstairs. We screeched to a halt just before his hands hit the wood of the door, and Ethan shrieked in laughter as I jerked us around and started back towards the front door, careening in a zigzag towards the front of the house.
It was Noah’s perfect timing that had him coming through the front door in the same instant Ethan and I reached it. It took Noah a moment to process the scene in front of him, but before I knew it, he was laughing at us and shrugging out of his jacket, taking a step closer to where we had started doing donuts around the living room couch.
I continued with my obnoxious airplane sound effects as we neared Noah’s proximity, then I quickly reached up to peck him hello on the mouth, and then breezed right past him with Ethan. Mom was due out of the kitchen at any moment, which was good because my arms were getting a bit tired, although Ethan was not. His energy would last all day, of that I was certain. Noah and I had a full play-date ahead of us, and I hoped he had mentally prepared himself for spending an afternoon with a five-year-old.
Luckily, Mom stepped out of the kitchen then and began laughing with Noah as she set eyes on us. I placed Ethan foot-first on the couch at Mom’s return. He and I pumped our fists in the air and together starting belting out a horrendously off-key version of the Superman theme song in triumph. When we were done shattering all the glass in the vicinity of the living room, Ethan collapsed on the couch and I rested my palm against its arm, smiling at my family and trying to catch my breath.
Ethan giggled up at Mom as she stepped towards the back of the couch and ran her hand through his hair. Noah moved over to me and slung his arm around my shoulder as Mom’s other hand held out the Emergency Kid Bag. Full of all sorts of colorful wonders guaranteed to help entertain any child for hours on end. Plus, snacks. Couldn’t go wrong with snacks.
I took the bag from her and snuggled closer into Noah’s embrace, smiling. “Thanks, Mom.”
She shared a giggle with Ethan, then switched her grin to me. “You’re welcome, sweetie,” she replied. “I should be thanking you, for agreeing to watch Ethan today.”
I waved my hand, batting her words away. “Not a problem. We both have the day off.”
I grinned up at Noah, who smiled happily back down at me. Miraculously, he had this Saturday afternoon free - no filming, no casting, no Mason, nothing. He was all mine for the day, and he had graciously (and quite excitedly, I might add) agreed to accompany me on my babysitting engagement with Ethan.
“Okay, so…” Mom shifted away from the couch and started pulling her jacket on. “You have gas in the car, you have the bag-“ she pointed at the knapsack in my hands - “and you have Noah, so…”
“We’re all set,” I finished. “Go to work. We’ll be fine.”
Mom made a face at me, but she was smiling. “I’m going, I’m going,” she muttered, but she stopped to kiss all three of us on the cheek before she left.
I turned to Noah as soon as the front door closed behind her. “Ready?” I asked him.
His eyes lit up. “You bet!” he answered. He looked down at Ethan. “Ready for the park, little man?”
Ethan leaped off the couch with a resounding screech of joy and I laughed up at my wonderful boyfriend. His blue eyes sparkled at me as he leaned in and kissed me, then stepped away to tuck Ethan into his jacket.
I watched them as I pulled my own jacket on and slapped at my pocket to make sure the car keys were still safely nestled there. Noah bent in front of Ethan, who was wiggling with anticipation, and helped his arms into his sleeves. My little brother smiled at Noah as he zipped the jacket for him, then Noah stood and took Ethan by the hand.
I grabbed the Kid Bag and slung it over my shoulder, then unearthed the car keys from the depths of my jeans. Noah and Ethan followed me out of the house, and together we helped Ethan into the car and I belted him into the backseat.
I turned and shut Ethan’s door behind me and almost collided with Noah, who was standing closer to me than I realized. I stretched to give him another peck on the mouth, then we moved to our respective sides of the car and climbed in, grinning at one another.
*
It was a windy day at the park, but not chilly. The sun overhead was shining brightly, and the blades of grass and leaves on the surrounding trees were still green with life. Noah and I sat on the nearest bench to Ethan, who had found a soccer ball in the backseat of the car on the drive over and was now trying to kick it around with all the effort he could muster. The ball was still a bit too big for his tiny frame, but he was giving it everything he was worth anyway.
Noah leaned over and placed his elbows on his knees, his watchful eyes never leaving Ethan, who was no more than ten feet away. I had taken up the corner of the bench, my right leg propped up on the seat next to Noah, and I was looking forward to the book that was resting in my lap, the book I had tucked into the Kid Bag before Mom had loaded it up with snacks earlier.
The breeze ruffled through Noah’s hair and I caught a whiff of our shampoo from home. “How can you do that?” he asked, glancing at me as I opened the book to my saved page.
“Do what?” I asked in confusion, looking up from the beginning of chapter three at him.
Noah’s eyes followed Ethan as he ran and kicked at the ball, missing it by inches but laughing hysterically anyway. “How can you read and not watch him? Aren’t you worried?”
I glanced quickly around the park. There were two moms with strollers sitting on benches a few feet to our right, and about three kids running around the jungle gym, one of them trying to propel himself down the slide with no luck.
“I think it’s okay,” I responded, a grin sliding over my face. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, but…” Noah’s voice trailed off, and he rubbed at the back of his neck uncertainly. “You’re so relaxed about this.”
I chuckled at him, sitting up to affectionately tousle his hair. “Ethan’s fine,” I told him gently. “He’s really good at entertaining himself most of the time. He’s not going to run off anywhere.”
Noah looked at me, his brow wrinkled in a sincere you would totally know, since you’re better at this than me expression, and he sighed. “I don’t mean to be uptight about it. It’s just that your Mom left us in charge and-“
“Noah,” I interrupted him. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. I can still see him.” And it was true. I could see Ethan’s every move from where I sat, even with my nose in a book, even though from Noah’s vantage point, it didn’t seem as though I could.
I knew Noah was worrying for two reasons - one being that Ethan was my brother and he didn’t want anything to happen to him, and the other being that this was a test of sorts for Noah, something for him to try out as a precursor to fatherhood, which I knew was an extremely important aspect of our future to him. He wanted to have a family someday and be a good father, and he didn’t want to screw it up. I simply didn’t want him doubting himself. Or me, for that matter. So I purposely tried to be as supportive as I could when it came to Noah’s feelings on this topic.
Noah nodded into his lap, satisfied with my answer, then once again fixed his gaze on Ethan. We sat in silence for a few moments, Ethan’s flurried activity dancing in my peripheral vision, when Noah reached out and placed his hand on my bent knee, rubbing my patella in absentminded but loving circles.
The heat from his hand was enough to draw my attention out from A Moveable Feast, and our eyes locked across the bench. I smiled at him and moved to sit up, reaching to touch him, but a sudden thump from beside us had us on our feet in an instant.
Apparently, Ethan had missed the ball by more than a few inches this time. I bolted from the bench and crouched on the dirt in front of my little brother, Noah hot on my heels. I eyed Ethan for potential injuries, then started rolling the right leg of his jeans up. Noah and I watched as the blood started to ooze from the scrape on Ethan’s knee.
I picked Ethan up from where he sat on the ground and placed him gently on the seat of the bench Noah and I had been sitting on.
“Bag,” I said hurriedly to Noah, who quickly grabbed it and handed it over to me. One glance at Ethan’s face told me the waterworks were going to start any second.
Sure enough, as soon as Noah had bent down next to me to look up at him, Ethan burst into tears. The scrape wasn’t that bad, but it was bleeding a lot and most likely scaring Ethan more than hurting him. Noah looked at me with anxious eyes as I ripped the zipper of the bag open and started rooting inside for the First Aid kit.
I located it and snatched it out of the bag. “It’s okay, buddy,” I soothed Ethan, popping the lid to the kit. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Noah reached up to rub Ethan’s back as I found the stash of band-aids and square patches of gauze at the bottom of the kit. I brought them out and set them on the bench as Ethan continued to cry, his little hands clenching onto Noah’s right shoulder.
I gently wiped the scrape clear of blood with the gauze to get a better look at it. His skin was a little frayed - sadly - but he’d definitely survive, and his injury would most likely heal within a few days and become nothing but an afterthought.
I pressed a clean pad of gauze to his knee, then reached up and ran my hand through his hair. “Hey, buddy, look at me.”
Ethan did so, the tears still running down his cheeks.
I smiled comfortingly at him. “It’s okay,” I told him, keeping the pressure even on his wound. “You’re okay. It’s just a little scrape.”
“It hurts,” he wailed back, sniffling and glancing down at my hand.
“I know, I know,” I soothed softly, careful not to move my hand and risk hurting him more. “It’ll feel better soon, I promise.”
Noah listened to our exchange with a worried expression. I could hear the wheels turning in his head as our eyes grazed each other’s faces. I knew it, he was thinking. We broke your brother.
I focused my attention back on Ethan’s knee as his cries dwindled down to harsh sniffles. I peeled the gauze back slowly to examine the wound again and decided it was okay enough for a band-aid. The bleeding had stopped.
With Noah’s help, I applied a generous amount of antiseptic cream to the band-aid, then pressed it gently over Ethan’s knee. He watched in slight fascination through wet eyelashes, then looked up at me as I rolled his pant leg back down to his ankle.
He sniffled hard as we looked at each other.
“Feel better?” I asked him, patting his thigh and giving him a hopeful smile.
He sniffled again. “Still hurts,” he admitted softly.
“What can we do to make it better for you?” I asked quietly.
Ethan sniffled again. “Mommy would kiss it and make it better,” he told us honestly.
“Oh.” I kept my smile clamped down so as to not hurt Ethan’s feelings. His simple explanation was too cute for the situation at hand.
Noah and I moved instantaneously, presumably to honor Ethan’s request, but our heads clunked together before either one of us could reach Ethan’s knee.
“Ow,” we complained in unison. I massaged the right side of my head while Noah rubbed the left side of his, and Ethan suddenly started giggling. Noah and I sat back, bemused, as Ethan took complete pleasure in our pain.
“It feels better now,” he laughed benignly.
I shook my head, trying to clear it as Noah stood and reached to help me to my feet. We blinked at each other dazedly once we were upright, then looked down at Ethan, who was still giggling at our unintentional blunder.
“You know what I think?” Noah said to him, holding his hand out. “The swings have been calling your name all afternoon, my friend.”
Ethan looked up at him with drying eyes. “Swings can’t talk!” he replied in astonishment, as though Noah had some secret knowledge of mystical swing-language that he did not possess. He slipped off the bench towards Noah in interest.
Noah chuckled and took Ethan’s hand as he stood, then turned the two of them towards the swing-set behind us. “You up for it?” he asked.
Ethan craned his neck all the way up Noah’s six-foot frame. “Yeah!” he cried. Hand-in-hand, they walked together to the swing-set as I settled back down on the bench behind me.
I watched Noah as he placed Ethan securely on the rubber seat of the swing, double-checked to make sure Ethan was holding on tightly, and then began to give him baby pushes from behind. My little brother’s laughter sailed on the breeze, ringing out into the sunshine. And Noah’s laughter followed it.
Twice Noah glanced over at me, and I could see the sheer happiness radiating from him. Ethan was enjoying his ride because of him. Because of Noah, and the child that lived inside him, and the father who yearned to burst out of him. He grinned at me and I grinned back, feeling my chest constrict with love. I didn’t know why Noah worried so much about being a good father. It was etched into his genes, flowing through every gentle push, seeping out through his every movement. Noah was born to be a good dad; it emanated from every fiber of his being without him even realizing it.
When Ethan tired of the swing, they moved over to the monkey bars, which Noah - I could tell - was clearly apprehensive about from the get-go. I joined the two of them and insisted that it would be fine, then watched as Noah raised Ethan up to the first bar and held onto him until Ethan secured his grip. Noah stood behind him, hands open and ready, waiting to spot Ethan in case he needed help.
I stepped back to observe once more, confident that my boyfriend wouldn’t let anything happen to my brother. Noah was so tall that he could reach clean through the top of the monkey bars if he wanted, so he kept his knees bent in order to fit under the row of horizontal metal poles, his hands still at the ready on either side of Ethan. My brother made it two bars in and started giggling too much to hold on, and Noah gently took hold of him as they both laughed together. Noah praised his big boy efforts and my little brother’s eyes shone up at him in delight.
Then the three of us somehow managed to fit all together on the slide. Ethan sat in front of Noah and I sat behind him, and we slid down laughing, Ethan’s boyish laughter the loudest. We took turns chasing each other over the jungle gym, up the stairs and down the slide and through the orange tunnel on the other side that spiraled down into soft sand below. Noah tried his hand on the fireman’s pole, wrapping his lean legs around it and deftly slipping down (oh, the naughty images of him that movement presented to my eager brain), and Ethan clapped in amazement as Noah landed safely on his feet and took an exaggerated bow.
Then Ethan said abruptly, “I’m thirsty,” and we decided to retreat back to the bench for a breather.
Ethan sat in between the two of us as I rummaged through the Kid Bag, searching for the juice boxes I knew Mom had packed. I grabbed one, opened the straw, and stabbed it through the hole in the box for Ethan, then passed it to him. He began to sip from it as I grabbed another box automatically and fluidly repeated my actions step-by-step.
Noah looked at me quizzically as I handed the juice box to him, and it dawned on me what he was thinking, and what I was doing.
“Oh! Sorry.” I felt the blush creep up my neck as I gestured for him to give the juice back. “I’m just so used to passing them out. Forgot we only had one kid this time.”
Noah grinned wholeheartedly at me, then pointedly stuck the straw in his mouth and drew some juice out of the box. His eyes gleamed at me as he continued to drink, and I figured if I couldn’t beat them, I would join them. So I opened a juice box for myself and the three of us sat on the bench, sipped our beverages quietly, and rested, enjoying one another’s company on this glorious Saturday afternoon.
*
“Wow, that was…”
Noah’s voice floated from the direction of our tiny apartment kitchen, as he passed over the threshold into the adjoining living room. He walked towards me, where I was nestled comfortably into the side of the couch, and continued to search for words to describe our day with Ethan.
I laughed under my breath as Noah sat down in front of me and twisted so our eyes could connect. “Exhausting?” I supplied, moving to stretch out behind him.
Noah considered my suggestion for a moment, then vigorously nodded. “Yes,” he said firmly, grinning. “That was completely exhausting, in every sense of the word.”
I patted the cushion in front of me, a long strip of lime green material that had Noah’s name written all over it. He turned the other way and settled in next to me as I smiled at him. Together we slowly tangled on the couch, my front pressed to his side, Noah’s body heat seeping through my clothes. I rested my head against his right shoulder.
“It was fun, though,” he said quietly. We gazed at each other as his right hand slipped into my hair.
I nodded. “It was fun,” I agreed. “I loved watching you.”
Noah chuckled bashfully. “You don’t have to lie,” he said.
I placed my hand against his cheek. “I’m not lying,” I defended firmly. “It’s true. You were great with Ethan.”
Noah’s face reddened slightly at my compliment, and he went to turn his face from mine, but I held his cheek steady. “I was just going with it,” he admitted. His tone sounded as though he had been caught cheating on a test.
I smiled at him and nodded. “I know. And that’s why you were great.”
Noah opened his mouth to argue, but I placed three fingers over his lips. “Stop doubting yourself,” I told him. “You’re going to be a great dad someday. I can tell.”
Noah stared lovingly at me, his bottom lip puffed out in thought. Finally he said, “Thanks.”
I kissed him slowly, meaningfully. “You’re welcome.”
He pulled me in for another kiss, his right hand sliding out of my hair and down my back as I shifted my weight to move over him, our torsos pressing together. I held his face as we kissed zealously, his arms coming up to wrap tightly around me, and for a moment I was lost in him, lost in his familiar taste and his intoxicating scent, in everything that I knew and loved as distinctly Noah. I could feel his heart thrumming contentedly in his chest below, and I shifted further, trying to find a more comfortable position, all the while keeping my mouth planted on his.
Unfortunately, I misjudged the space we had on the couch, and my knee caught him in the exact place no guy ever wants a knee to be caught. I recognized my mistake in a flash and started apologizing profusely as his face crumpled and he grunted in discomfort.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I breathed, pressing kisses to his face. “I’m so sorry, Noah.” I ran my fingers though the back of his hair, hoping to help soothe the pain.
Thankfully his anguish turned out to be temporary, as I had only grazed the tightness of his jeans. A smile began to take shape on his face as I continued to kiss him. “It’s okay, Luke,” he replied, meeting my pecks with his lips. “I’m fine.”
I drew him into a longer kiss to test his endurance, and he was telling the truth. He was fine, and not just telling me that to keep me from feeling bad.
Noah’s hands slipped into my hair as we settled back into our deep make-out session. I lay flat against him, chest to chest, one leg thrown carefully over his waist. Noah held my face to his as we explored each other’s mouths, the heat rising from his body and absorbing into mine.
I smiled in sudden thought and Noah broke the kiss. “What?”
I pushed slightly off him and glanced downward at his waistline. “I could…make it better,” I offered, dropping my voice an octave. I blinked at him with heavy eyes.
He was about to ask Make what better? when realization dawned on him. “Ohhh…you could, could you?” he rumbled out knowingly, his tone lowering to match mine.
“Mm-hmm.” I leaned forward and kissed him again, sucking hungrily at his bottom lip before pulling away.
“And how do you plan to do that?” Noah asked with growing lust-filled eyes.
I slid carefully down his body and pressed a kiss onto his stomach though his shirt, then looked up at him, my chin against the button of his jeans.
“I’m not sure,” I drawled, lifting my chin and replacing it with my right hand. I tugged his button open. “But I think there might be kissing involved…”
End.
~G
Title: Make It Better
Characters: Luke/Noah, Ethan, little bit of Lily
Genre: Romance-ish
Rating: PG-13 (towards the end)
Summary: Luke and Noah spend an eventful Saturday afternoon with Ethan.
As always, please drop me a line if you like it! I hope you do! Hee. :-)
I looked down to find Ethan tugging on my pant leg.
“What’s up, little man?” I asked him, reaching to ruffle his hair.
Ethan grinned up at me and stretched his arms up. “Fly me Superman!” he shouted, bouncing in place.
“O-kay,” I replied enthusiastically, bending to scoop him up. I tucked both arms underneath him, one under his belly and the other under his hips, and lifted him into the air as I straightened up. He stretched his arms in front of him, Superman-style, and we began to zoom around the living room, the both of us making boisterous airplane noises.
“Oh, no, watch out, watch out!” I cried gleefully, running him towards the door to upstairs. We screeched to a halt just before his hands hit the wood of the door, and Ethan shrieked in laughter as I jerked us around and started back towards the front door, careening in a zigzag towards the front of the house.
It was Noah’s perfect timing that had him coming through the front door in the same instant Ethan and I reached it. It took Noah a moment to process the scene in front of him, but before I knew it, he was laughing at us and shrugging out of his jacket, taking a step closer to where we had started doing donuts around the living room couch.
I continued with my obnoxious airplane sound effects as we neared Noah’s proximity, then I quickly reached up to peck him hello on the mouth, and then breezed right past him with Ethan. Mom was due out of the kitchen at any moment, which was good because my arms were getting a bit tired, although Ethan was not. His energy would last all day, of that I was certain. Noah and I had a full play-date ahead of us, and I hoped he had mentally prepared himself for spending an afternoon with a five-year-old.
Luckily, Mom stepped out of the kitchen then and began laughing with Noah as she set eyes on us. I placed Ethan foot-first on the couch at Mom’s return. He and I pumped our fists in the air and together starting belting out a horrendously off-key version of the Superman theme song in triumph. When we were done shattering all the glass in the vicinity of the living room, Ethan collapsed on the couch and I rested my palm against its arm, smiling at my family and trying to catch my breath.
Ethan giggled up at Mom as she stepped towards the back of the couch and ran her hand through his hair. Noah moved over to me and slung his arm around my shoulder as Mom’s other hand held out the Emergency Kid Bag. Full of all sorts of colorful wonders guaranteed to help entertain any child for hours on end. Plus, snacks. Couldn’t go wrong with snacks.
I took the bag from her and snuggled closer into Noah’s embrace, smiling. “Thanks, Mom.”
She shared a giggle with Ethan, then switched her grin to me. “You’re welcome, sweetie,” she replied. “I should be thanking you, for agreeing to watch Ethan today.”
I waved my hand, batting her words away. “Not a problem. We both have the day off.”
I grinned up at Noah, who smiled happily back down at me. Miraculously, he had this Saturday afternoon free - no filming, no casting, no Mason, nothing. He was all mine for the day, and he had graciously (and quite excitedly, I might add) agreed to accompany me on my babysitting engagement with Ethan.
“Okay, so…” Mom shifted away from the couch and started pulling her jacket on. “You have gas in the car, you have the bag-“ she pointed at the knapsack in my hands - “and you have Noah, so…”
“We’re all set,” I finished. “Go to work. We’ll be fine.”
Mom made a face at me, but she was smiling. “I’m going, I’m going,” she muttered, but she stopped to kiss all three of us on the cheek before she left.
I turned to Noah as soon as the front door closed behind her. “Ready?” I asked him.
His eyes lit up. “You bet!” he answered. He looked down at Ethan. “Ready for the park, little man?”
Ethan leaped off the couch with a resounding screech of joy and I laughed up at my wonderful boyfriend. His blue eyes sparkled at me as he leaned in and kissed me, then stepped away to tuck Ethan into his jacket.
I watched them as I pulled my own jacket on and slapped at my pocket to make sure the car keys were still safely nestled there. Noah bent in front of Ethan, who was wiggling with anticipation, and helped his arms into his sleeves. My little brother smiled at Noah as he zipped the jacket for him, then Noah stood and took Ethan by the hand.
I grabbed the Kid Bag and slung it over my shoulder, then unearthed the car keys from the depths of my jeans. Noah and Ethan followed me out of the house, and together we helped Ethan into the car and I belted him into the backseat.
I turned and shut Ethan’s door behind me and almost collided with Noah, who was standing closer to me than I realized. I stretched to give him another peck on the mouth, then we moved to our respective sides of the car and climbed in, grinning at one another.
*
It was a windy day at the park, but not chilly. The sun overhead was shining brightly, and the blades of grass and leaves on the surrounding trees were still green with life. Noah and I sat on the nearest bench to Ethan, who had found a soccer ball in the backseat of the car on the drive over and was now trying to kick it around with all the effort he could muster. The ball was still a bit too big for his tiny frame, but he was giving it everything he was worth anyway.
Noah leaned over and placed his elbows on his knees, his watchful eyes never leaving Ethan, who was no more than ten feet away. I had taken up the corner of the bench, my right leg propped up on the seat next to Noah, and I was looking forward to the book that was resting in my lap, the book I had tucked into the Kid Bag before Mom had loaded it up with snacks earlier.
The breeze ruffled through Noah’s hair and I caught a whiff of our shampoo from home. “How can you do that?” he asked, glancing at me as I opened the book to my saved page.
“Do what?” I asked in confusion, looking up from the beginning of chapter three at him.
Noah’s eyes followed Ethan as he ran and kicked at the ball, missing it by inches but laughing hysterically anyway. “How can you read and not watch him? Aren’t you worried?”
I glanced quickly around the park. There were two moms with strollers sitting on benches a few feet to our right, and about three kids running around the jungle gym, one of them trying to propel himself down the slide with no luck.
“I think it’s okay,” I responded, a grin sliding over my face. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, but…” Noah’s voice trailed off, and he rubbed at the back of his neck uncertainly. “You’re so relaxed about this.”
I chuckled at him, sitting up to affectionately tousle his hair. “Ethan’s fine,” I told him gently. “He’s really good at entertaining himself most of the time. He’s not going to run off anywhere.”
Noah looked at me, his brow wrinkled in a sincere you would totally know, since you’re better at this than me expression, and he sighed. “I don’t mean to be uptight about it. It’s just that your Mom left us in charge and-“
“Noah,” I interrupted him. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. I can still see him.” And it was true. I could see Ethan’s every move from where I sat, even with my nose in a book, even though from Noah’s vantage point, it didn’t seem as though I could.
I knew Noah was worrying for two reasons - one being that Ethan was my brother and he didn’t want anything to happen to him, and the other being that this was a test of sorts for Noah, something for him to try out as a precursor to fatherhood, which I knew was an extremely important aspect of our future to him. He wanted to have a family someday and be a good father, and he didn’t want to screw it up. I simply didn’t want him doubting himself. Or me, for that matter. So I purposely tried to be as supportive as I could when it came to Noah’s feelings on this topic.
Noah nodded into his lap, satisfied with my answer, then once again fixed his gaze on Ethan. We sat in silence for a few moments, Ethan’s flurried activity dancing in my peripheral vision, when Noah reached out and placed his hand on my bent knee, rubbing my patella in absentminded but loving circles.
The heat from his hand was enough to draw my attention out from A Moveable Feast, and our eyes locked across the bench. I smiled at him and moved to sit up, reaching to touch him, but a sudden thump from beside us had us on our feet in an instant.
Apparently, Ethan had missed the ball by more than a few inches this time. I bolted from the bench and crouched on the dirt in front of my little brother, Noah hot on my heels. I eyed Ethan for potential injuries, then started rolling the right leg of his jeans up. Noah and I watched as the blood started to ooze from the scrape on Ethan’s knee.
I picked Ethan up from where he sat on the ground and placed him gently on the seat of the bench Noah and I had been sitting on.
“Bag,” I said hurriedly to Noah, who quickly grabbed it and handed it over to me. One glance at Ethan’s face told me the waterworks were going to start any second.
Sure enough, as soon as Noah had bent down next to me to look up at him, Ethan burst into tears. The scrape wasn’t that bad, but it was bleeding a lot and most likely scaring Ethan more than hurting him. Noah looked at me with anxious eyes as I ripped the zipper of the bag open and started rooting inside for the First Aid kit.
I located it and snatched it out of the bag. “It’s okay, buddy,” I soothed Ethan, popping the lid to the kit. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Noah reached up to rub Ethan’s back as I found the stash of band-aids and square patches of gauze at the bottom of the kit. I brought them out and set them on the bench as Ethan continued to cry, his little hands clenching onto Noah’s right shoulder.
I gently wiped the scrape clear of blood with the gauze to get a better look at it. His skin was a little frayed - sadly - but he’d definitely survive, and his injury would most likely heal within a few days and become nothing but an afterthought.
I pressed a clean pad of gauze to his knee, then reached up and ran my hand through his hair. “Hey, buddy, look at me.”
Ethan did so, the tears still running down his cheeks.
I smiled comfortingly at him. “It’s okay,” I told him, keeping the pressure even on his wound. “You’re okay. It’s just a little scrape.”
“It hurts,” he wailed back, sniffling and glancing down at my hand.
“I know, I know,” I soothed softly, careful not to move my hand and risk hurting him more. “It’ll feel better soon, I promise.”
Noah listened to our exchange with a worried expression. I could hear the wheels turning in his head as our eyes grazed each other’s faces. I knew it, he was thinking. We broke your brother.
I focused my attention back on Ethan’s knee as his cries dwindled down to harsh sniffles. I peeled the gauze back slowly to examine the wound again and decided it was okay enough for a band-aid. The bleeding had stopped.
With Noah’s help, I applied a generous amount of antiseptic cream to the band-aid, then pressed it gently over Ethan’s knee. He watched in slight fascination through wet eyelashes, then looked up at me as I rolled his pant leg back down to his ankle.
He sniffled hard as we looked at each other.
“Feel better?” I asked him, patting his thigh and giving him a hopeful smile.
He sniffled again. “Still hurts,” he admitted softly.
“What can we do to make it better for you?” I asked quietly.
Ethan sniffled again. “Mommy would kiss it and make it better,” he told us honestly.
“Oh.” I kept my smile clamped down so as to not hurt Ethan’s feelings. His simple explanation was too cute for the situation at hand.
Noah and I moved instantaneously, presumably to honor Ethan’s request, but our heads clunked together before either one of us could reach Ethan’s knee.
“Ow,” we complained in unison. I massaged the right side of my head while Noah rubbed the left side of his, and Ethan suddenly started giggling. Noah and I sat back, bemused, as Ethan took complete pleasure in our pain.
“It feels better now,” he laughed benignly.
I shook my head, trying to clear it as Noah stood and reached to help me to my feet. We blinked at each other dazedly once we were upright, then looked down at Ethan, who was still giggling at our unintentional blunder.
“You know what I think?” Noah said to him, holding his hand out. “The swings have been calling your name all afternoon, my friend.”
Ethan looked up at him with drying eyes. “Swings can’t talk!” he replied in astonishment, as though Noah had some secret knowledge of mystical swing-language that he did not possess. He slipped off the bench towards Noah in interest.
Noah chuckled and took Ethan’s hand as he stood, then turned the two of them towards the swing-set behind us. “You up for it?” he asked.
Ethan craned his neck all the way up Noah’s six-foot frame. “Yeah!” he cried. Hand-in-hand, they walked together to the swing-set as I settled back down on the bench behind me.
I watched Noah as he placed Ethan securely on the rubber seat of the swing, double-checked to make sure Ethan was holding on tightly, and then began to give him baby pushes from behind. My little brother’s laughter sailed on the breeze, ringing out into the sunshine. And Noah’s laughter followed it.
Twice Noah glanced over at me, and I could see the sheer happiness radiating from him. Ethan was enjoying his ride because of him. Because of Noah, and the child that lived inside him, and the father who yearned to burst out of him. He grinned at me and I grinned back, feeling my chest constrict with love. I didn’t know why Noah worried so much about being a good father. It was etched into his genes, flowing through every gentle push, seeping out through his every movement. Noah was born to be a good dad; it emanated from every fiber of his being without him even realizing it.
When Ethan tired of the swing, they moved over to the monkey bars, which Noah - I could tell - was clearly apprehensive about from the get-go. I joined the two of them and insisted that it would be fine, then watched as Noah raised Ethan up to the first bar and held onto him until Ethan secured his grip. Noah stood behind him, hands open and ready, waiting to spot Ethan in case he needed help.
I stepped back to observe once more, confident that my boyfriend wouldn’t let anything happen to my brother. Noah was so tall that he could reach clean through the top of the monkey bars if he wanted, so he kept his knees bent in order to fit under the row of horizontal metal poles, his hands still at the ready on either side of Ethan. My brother made it two bars in and started giggling too much to hold on, and Noah gently took hold of him as they both laughed together. Noah praised his big boy efforts and my little brother’s eyes shone up at him in delight.
Then the three of us somehow managed to fit all together on the slide. Ethan sat in front of Noah and I sat behind him, and we slid down laughing, Ethan’s boyish laughter the loudest. We took turns chasing each other over the jungle gym, up the stairs and down the slide and through the orange tunnel on the other side that spiraled down into soft sand below. Noah tried his hand on the fireman’s pole, wrapping his lean legs around it and deftly slipping down (oh, the naughty images of him that movement presented to my eager brain), and Ethan clapped in amazement as Noah landed safely on his feet and took an exaggerated bow.
Then Ethan said abruptly, “I’m thirsty,” and we decided to retreat back to the bench for a breather.
Ethan sat in between the two of us as I rummaged through the Kid Bag, searching for the juice boxes I knew Mom had packed. I grabbed one, opened the straw, and stabbed it through the hole in the box for Ethan, then passed it to him. He began to sip from it as I grabbed another box automatically and fluidly repeated my actions step-by-step.
Noah looked at me quizzically as I handed the juice box to him, and it dawned on me what he was thinking, and what I was doing.
“Oh! Sorry.” I felt the blush creep up my neck as I gestured for him to give the juice back. “I’m just so used to passing them out. Forgot we only had one kid this time.”
Noah grinned wholeheartedly at me, then pointedly stuck the straw in his mouth and drew some juice out of the box. His eyes gleamed at me as he continued to drink, and I figured if I couldn’t beat them, I would join them. So I opened a juice box for myself and the three of us sat on the bench, sipped our beverages quietly, and rested, enjoying one another’s company on this glorious Saturday afternoon.
*
“Wow, that was…”
Noah’s voice floated from the direction of our tiny apartment kitchen, as he passed over the threshold into the adjoining living room. He walked towards me, where I was nestled comfortably into the side of the couch, and continued to search for words to describe our day with Ethan.
I laughed under my breath as Noah sat down in front of me and twisted so our eyes could connect. “Exhausting?” I supplied, moving to stretch out behind him.
Noah considered my suggestion for a moment, then vigorously nodded. “Yes,” he said firmly, grinning. “That was completely exhausting, in every sense of the word.”
I patted the cushion in front of me, a long strip of lime green material that had Noah’s name written all over it. He turned the other way and settled in next to me as I smiled at him. Together we slowly tangled on the couch, my front pressed to his side, Noah’s body heat seeping through my clothes. I rested my head against his right shoulder.
“It was fun, though,” he said quietly. We gazed at each other as his right hand slipped into my hair.
I nodded. “It was fun,” I agreed. “I loved watching you.”
Noah chuckled bashfully. “You don’t have to lie,” he said.
I placed my hand against his cheek. “I’m not lying,” I defended firmly. “It’s true. You were great with Ethan.”
Noah’s face reddened slightly at my compliment, and he went to turn his face from mine, but I held his cheek steady. “I was just going with it,” he admitted. His tone sounded as though he had been caught cheating on a test.
I smiled at him and nodded. “I know. And that’s why you were great.”
Noah opened his mouth to argue, but I placed three fingers over his lips. “Stop doubting yourself,” I told him. “You’re going to be a great dad someday. I can tell.”
Noah stared lovingly at me, his bottom lip puffed out in thought. Finally he said, “Thanks.”
I kissed him slowly, meaningfully. “You’re welcome.”
He pulled me in for another kiss, his right hand sliding out of my hair and down my back as I shifted my weight to move over him, our torsos pressing together. I held his face as we kissed zealously, his arms coming up to wrap tightly around me, and for a moment I was lost in him, lost in his familiar taste and his intoxicating scent, in everything that I knew and loved as distinctly Noah. I could feel his heart thrumming contentedly in his chest below, and I shifted further, trying to find a more comfortable position, all the while keeping my mouth planted on his.
Unfortunately, I misjudged the space we had on the couch, and my knee caught him in the exact place no guy ever wants a knee to be caught. I recognized my mistake in a flash and started apologizing profusely as his face crumpled and he grunted in discomfort.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I breathed, pressing kisses to his face. “I’m so sorry, Noah.” I ran my fingers though the back of his hair, hoping to help soothe the pain.
Thankfully his anguish turned out to be temporary, as I had only grazed the tightness of his jeans. A smile began to take shape on his face as I continued to kiss him. “It’s okay, Luke,” he replied, meeting my pecks with his lips. “I’m fine.”
I drew him into a longer kiss to test his endurance, and he was telling the truth. He was fine, and not just telling me that to keep me from feeling bad.
Noah’s hands slipped into my hair as we settled back into our deep make-out session. I lay flat against him, chest to chest, one leg thrown carefully over his waist. Noah held my face to his as we explored each other’s mouths, the heat rising from his body and absorbing into mine.
I smiled in sudden thought and Noah broke the kiss. “What?”
I pushed slightly off him and glanced downward at his waistline. “I could…make it better,” I offered, dropping my voice an octave. I blinked at him with heavy eyes.
He was about to ask Make what better? when realization dawned on him. “Ohhh…you could, could you?” he rumbled out knowingly, his tone lowering to match mine.
“Mm-hmm.” I leaned forward and kissed him again, sucking hungrily at his bottom lip before pulling away.
“And how do you plan to do that?” Noah asked with growing lust-filled eyes.
I slid carefully down his body and pressed a kiss onto his stomach though his shirt, then looked up at him, my chin against the button of his jeans.
“I’m not sure,” I drawled, lifting my chin and replacing it with my right hand. I tugged his button open. “But I think there might be kissing involved…”
End.
~G