chocolate + peanut butter
Title: chocolate + peanut butter
Fandom: LOST
Characters: David and Aaron
Rating: PG
Word Count: 770
Summary: Sometimes it's not so bad having someone to look out for. (spoilers for 6x05, The Lighthouse, written for lostfichallenge )
David plops onto the couch, if only to stop Aunt Claire's persisting. He holds out his arms nervously as she places the baby in his care, fussing to make sure he places his hand just-so under Aaron's head.
He doesn't really get why the adults make such a big deal of it. His aunt coos, "Oh, aren't they adorable? I wish I had a camera." Dad looks like he's on the verge of tears, and even Grandma seems to be practically glowing.
Geez, guys, it's just a baby, he wants to tell them, but he does have to admit that the big blue eyes blinking up at him are kinda-sorta cute.
-
A sharp cry interrupts his homework, and he groans. Isn't Aaron old enough to sleep through the night now? He tries to concentrate on his math, but a little blond head pokes through the door. "Davey?"
"You should be in bed, Aaron."
"I had a bad dream," he whimpers, cheeks wet. He toddles over and climbs onto David's lap uninvited.
"Well," David says, trying to remember what his mom use to tell him when he was young. "It'll be okay. It's just a dream, it's not real." Aaron buries his face in David's shirt, his sobs muffled. David pats his back gently. "I won't let any monsters get you."
-
He finds Aaron on the porch, reading a comic book. "Hey, kid." Aaron mumbles a greeting, and David notes an object sitting beside him. "What's with the backpack, you going somewhere?"
"No, it's just my collection," Aaron says, turning a page.
"Collection of what?" When he doesn't answer, David kneels down and unzips it.
"Hey!" Aaron cries, dropping his book. "That's my stuff."
"Oh, really?" David pulls a baseball out of Aaron's pack, the one that's been missing for two days. "This look suspiciously like mine. What else you got in here?"
Aaron moans and blushes bright red as David removes other items. A toy airplane, a half-empty jar of peanut butter, Grandma's necklace, one white and one black knight from Dad's chess set.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Mister Sticky Fingers?"
"You're not gonna tell, are you?"
David knows he shouldn't succumb to the miserable blue eyes, but somehow he always manages to end up feeling sorry for the little twerp. "Not if you put it all back, and promise not to steal anymore."
Aaron picks up the pile and puts it in his pack. "I promise."
-
"What are you doing up?" David asks, setting a stack of books on the kitchen table.
Aaron doesn't look up from his sketchbook. "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."
"You're not having bad dreams again, are you?" He reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a bag of Oreos.
Aaron is quiet, his eyebrows wrinkling together in thought, then he says, "Can I have some?"
"If you promise not to tell your mom. I suppose you want peanut butter with yours?"
"Yes, please."
"Weirdo." He grabs a jar, and Aaron reaches for the goodies as David sits across the table from him. "Can I see?" he asks, sliding the book around. Sketched on the page is a hunter in a plaid shirt, pointing his rifle at a duck in the sky. A little grey rabbit with a toothy grin watches at the hunter's heels.
"What's with the bunny?"
"Huh? Oh, he's just happy 'cause it's duck hunting season."
David snickers. "I think you've been watching too many cartoons. It's a good picture, though."
"Oops, forgot my name." Aaron stuffs his peanut butter-dipped cookie in his mouth and takes back the book. He writes his signature in the corner, then mumbles something incoherent.
"What?"
He swallows. "What's the date?"
David looks at the clock on the oven, numbers brightly reading 11:56. "It's still the thirteenth."
"Thanks." He puts the date next to his name, then studies it with a frown. "Something's wrong with this picture."
"Looks fine to me. Want some milk?" He goes to the fridge, and when he turns back Aaron is scribbling intently on his drawing. "What are you doing?"
"I forgot to color in the duck."
David passes Aaron a glass of milk and looks down at the dark messy smudge the little bird has turned into. "Stop fiddling with it. It's perfect. Hurry up and drink your milk before someone catches you out of bed."
Aaron obeys, draining his glass in one long gulp. "I'm glad we're cousins," he says seriously as he wipes his hand across his mouth.
David gives him an awkward little smile. "Me too, kid. Now get moving."
Fandom: LOST
Characters: David and Aaron
Rating: PG
Word Count: 770
Summary: Sometimes it's not so bad having someone to look out for. (spoilers for 6x05, The Lighthouse, written for lostfichallenge )
David plops onto the couch, if only to stop Aunt Claire's persisting. He holds out his arms nervously as she places the baby in his care, fussing to make sure he places his hand just-so under Aaron's head.
He doesn't really get why the adults make such a big deal of it. His aunt coos, "Oh, aren't they adorable? I wish I had a camera." Dad looks like he's on the verge of tears, and even Grandma seems to be practically glowing.
Geez, guys, it's just a baby, he wants to tell them, but he does have to admit that the big blue eyes blinking up at him are kinda-sorta cute.
-
A sharp cry interrupts his homework, and he groans. Isn't Aaron old enough to sleep through the night now? He tries to concentrate on his math, but a little blond head pokes through the door. "Davey?"
"You should be in bed, Aaron."
"I had a bad dream," he whimpers, cheeks wet. He toddles over and climbs onto David's lap uninvited.
"Well," David says, trying to remember what his mom use to tell him when he was young. "It'll be okay. It's just a dream, it's not real." Aaron buries his face in David's shirt, his sobs muffled. David pats his back gently. "I won't let any monsters get you."
-
He finds Aaron on the porch, reading a comic book. "Hey, kid." Aaron mumbles a greeting, and David notes an object sitting beside him. "What's with the backpack, you going somewhere?"
"No, it's just my collection," Aaron says, turning a page.
"Collection of what?" When he doesn't answer, David kneels down and unzips it.
"Hey!" Aaron cries, dropping his book. "That's my stuff."
"Oh, really?" David pulls a baseball out of Aaron's pack, the one that's been missing for two days. "This look suspiciously like mine. What else you got in here?"
Aaron moans and blushes bright red as David removes other items. A toy airplane, a half-empty jar of peanut butter, Grandma's necklace, one white and one black knight from Dad's chess set.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Mister Sticky Fingers?"
"You're not gonna tell, are you?"
David knows he shouldn't succumb to the miserable blue eyes, but somehow he always manages to end up feeling sorry for the little twerp. "Not if you put it all back, and promise not to steal anymore."
Aaron picks up the pile and puts it in his pack. "I promise."
-
"What are you doing up?" David asks, setting a stack of books on the kitchen table.
Aaron doesn't look up from his sketchbook. "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."
"You're not having bad dreams again, are you?" He reaches into the cupboard and pulls out a bag of Oreos.
Aaron is quiet, his eyebrows wrinkling together in thought, then he says, "Can I have some?"
"If you promise not to tell your mom. I suppose you want peanut butter with yours?"
"Yes, please."
"Weirdo." He grabs a jar, and Aaron reaches for the goodies as David sits across the table from him. "Can I see?" he asks, sliding the book around. Sketched on the page is a hunter in a plaid shirt, pointing his rifle at a duck in the sky. A little grey rabbit with a toothy grin watches at the hunter's heels.
"What's with the bunny?"
"Huh? Oh, he's just happy 'cause it's duck hunting season."
David snickers. "I think you've been watching too many cartoons. It's a good picture, though."
"Oops, forgot my name." Aaron stuffs his peanut butter-dipped cookie in his mouth and takes back the book. He writes his signature in the corner, then mumbles something incoherent.
"What?"
He swallows. "What's the date?"
David looks at the clock on the oven, numbers brightly reading 11:56. "It's still the thirteenth."
"Thanks." He puts the date next to his name, then studies it with a frown. "Something's wrong with this picture."
"Looks fine to me. Want some milk?" He goes to the fridge, and when he turns back Aaron is scribbling intently on his drawing. "What are you doing?"
"I forgot to color in the duck."
David passes Aaron a glass of milk and looks down at the dark messy smudge the little bird has turned into. "Stop fiddling with it. It's perfect. Hurry up and drink your milk before someone catches you out of bed."
Aaron obeys, draining his glass in one long gulp. "I'm glad we're cousins," he says seriously as he wipes his hand across his mouth.
David gives him an awkward little smile. "Me too, kid. Now get moving."