All's Fair
All's Fair
Pairing: JC/Justin
Rating: PG
Summary: "Justin Timberlake, internationally famous superstar, was folding laundry on a Saturday. Instead of photoshoots, premiers, studio recording, or business meetings, he was performing domestic chores, as if he wasn’t rich enough to hire maids or something."
A look into the daily life of Justin, housewife extraordinaire. Featuring JC, the doting father, Chris, the crazy uncle, Joey, the phat one, and a bunch of kids.
Reverse-Warning: Don't worry, this is not an m-preg if that freaks you out. ;-)
Hi guys!
I got into a super-fluffy mood, and this was the product. Blame cutesy comedies. I'm still working on my other story, as well as yet another one in the works, so that should be coming up soon. Because I know all 2-or-so of you who actually read this are anxiously waiting, I'm sure. ;)
Here we find domesticated!with-kids!JuC, and the gratuitous usage of nicknames. I feel I need two disclaimers for this one.
Disclaimer #1: I have no knowledge of the private lives of any of the people mentioned in the following story. It's purely fictional!
Disclaimer #2: The pictures I used were found randomly searching Google Images and put together in 2 minutes using Paint. If they are your pictures and you think it's weird that I'm using them, please tell me and I'll take them down immediately.
Otherwise, hope y'all enjoy! :)
All's Fair
Justin Timberlake, internationally famous superstar, was folding laundry on a Saturday. Instead of photoshoots, premiers, studio recording, or business meetings, he was performing domestic chores, as if he wasn’t rich enough to hire maids or something.
No, he wasn’t bitter. He’d gotten used to it by now; ever since his significant other told him that it was bad karma or something to have others do your dirty work for you. Or maybe he’d just been told to get off his lazy ass and do it himself. Whatever. Point was, he was independent and mature now at age thirty (and damn, where did those years go…) to do his own laundry. And cook. And clean. And do other wifely things while his darling significant other was out doing good in the world, or judging people, or whatever it was that he did when he left the house for hours and hours. Soon Justin would sprout red hair and start wearing aprons.
No, he really wasn’t bitter.
Justin heard the dull thud of the front door closing in the foyer. He smiled and popped his head out of the laundry room as he heard a tenor voice echo through the house.
“Uncle Chris is in the house! Where are my boys?”
Justin smiled as he heard the pattering of little feet as an immediate response to Chris’ arrival. He walked into the living room just in time for the squeals of joy.
“Uncle Chris!”
“What did you get us?”
“William Randall, I did not raise you to be rude like that. Uncle Chris is not Santa Claus,” Justin scolded, though he couldn’t help but feel amused. It wasn’t their fault that they were conditioned to think that Chris equaled presents when their uncle apparently didn’t think their rooms were filled enough with toys.
“Sorry, daddy,” the six-year-old said and then leaned in to whisper the question again into Chris’ ear. Justin rolled his eyes and hid his smirk, folding the towel in his hands and setting it on the back of a chair, then sat down.
“Man, Chris, you should come around more often if you’re strong enough to handle both of them like that,” Justin said and laughed at the older man who was juggling the boys on each arm.
“Yeah, your uncle Chris is Superman, didn’t you know?” Chris said and heaved them up as if he was lifting weights, but he didn’t get very far.
“No, silly, Uncle Joey is Superman. He showed us his costume!”
“Oh, right, how could I forget…? But you know, you’re not supposed to tell anyone! It’s his secret identity! Shh!” Chris stage-whispered and put them down. “Now do you guys want your presents or not?!”
“Duh!”
“Randy,” Justin warned with a smile on his face, which he supposed was the reason he went ignored in favor of the brightly wrapped boxes Chris pulled out of seemingly nowhere.
“Mikey, your pants are falling down. Quit jumping on the couch,” Justin said to the three-year-old, who clasped a chubby hand to his drooping pants but kept jumping and screaming “yay yay yay!” until it was his turn to rip open his present.
“Look, daddy, I got a guitar!” Randy said, holding the box above his head while bouncing on his heels.
It was, in fact, a thin, plastic, battery-powered guitar, but Randy seemed excited nonetheless.
“Yeah, my man’s going to become a part of the band!” Chris said and grinned, slapping Randy a high five. Randy smacked a kiss on Chris’ cheek with a squealed ‘thank you!’ which earned him a goofy grin on the old man’s face.
Justin glanced over to see Mikey’s progress, or lack thereof.
“Want me to help, little man?” Justin sat on the couch next to his youngest and pulled him onto his lap. He tore through the tape holding the wrappings together, then handed it back to his son. When Mikey finally ripped through the paper, he shone a triumphant grin to Justin, who threaded his hand through the thick brunette hair falling into the boy’s joy-crinkled eyes. Just like his papa, Justin thought with a smile.
“Lego’s! Cool!” Mikey yelled and jumped out of Justin’s hold to bounce into Chris’ arms. Chris mock-groaned, “You’re gettin’ big there, sport. You’re going to be playing for the Steelers in a couple of years, I bet!”
Justin laughed, “Don’t let JC hear you. He’s grooming two mini-Redskins fans.”
“Bah, it’ll be our secret. You guys just let your papa think that, we all know you’re true Steelers fans. Right, guys?”
Both boys yelled out “right!” in the midst of tearing the toys out of their cardboard cocoons.
“You know the only reason they’re agreeing is because you just gave them toys, right?”
Chris waved dismissively and settled next to him, throwing his arm along back of the couch behind Justin. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV to tune out the excited chatter of the two boys.
“So, where’s Ricky Ricardo?” Chris asked as he flipped through the channels, eventually settling on a rerun of Jersey Shore.
Justin rolled his eyes at his friend, “He’s in Burbank taping the next episode. Then he’s got some sort of important producer meetings for dinner, so he said he won’t be back until tonight. Are you sticking around?”
“Yeah, man, I’m starving. Plus I don’t go back home until next week, so I’ll see him eventually.”
Mikey’s shrieks of outrage broke into their conversation. The boy was brewing storm clouds all over his face as he yelled, “That’s not fair!” with a stomp of his foot to punctuate it. Justin headed over with a sigh.
“What’s not fair, little man?”
“Randy won’t let me play with his guitar! I said he could play with my Lego’s but he won’t let me try his toy!” Mikey then stomped his foot again in case Justin hadn’t gotten the point that he was really mad.
“Randy, can’t he try your guitar for a second?”
Randy pouted, “No, he’ll break it! He’s always breaking stuff!”
“Do not!”
“Mikey,” Justin said slowly, and he was in awe at his own patience. He was getting good at this stuff. Usually it was JC that was all over the patience thing. “Why don’t you play with your new Lego’s and let Randy play with his new toy? Then maybe later he’ll be willing to share if you promise to be careful with it. Okay, guys?”
“Whatever,” Randy muttered and picked up his paper guitar, heading for the stairs to escape to his room.
Justin turned to Chris and clutched at his heart, “Barely turned 6 and already he’s a moody teenager!”
“And you guys wonder why I don’t want to start a family…” Chris laughed as he sat down next to Mikey to help build his Lego spaceship.
“I still don’t get it. You’re so good with kids!”
“Yeah, as their kooky uncle, not a parent,” Chris said and shook his head, chuckling. “Anyway, why would I want anybody else when I have these awesome guys here? Now I actually have a reason to come over and eat your food.” He grinned and ruffled Mikey’s hair, earning a squawk from the disheveled boy for ruining his ‘do.
Suddenly Mikey jumped up and ran at the TV.
“Look, it’s papa!” he yelled, bouncing as he held on to the edge of the screen.
It was a rerun of last week’s episode of America’s Best Dance Crew, and JC was looking particularly fine in his olive green shirt.
“You know, I think I’ve only seen this show like twice,” Chris remarked, settling back on the couch to watch his friend on TV as if it was totally normal. Justin supposed it was pretty normal for them.
“Yeah, I love the guy, but I don’t have time to watch it every week. Besides, I always know how it ends before it even airs, so it’s kind of pointless… Except when JC takes his claws out, that’s always fun when it’s not directed at me,” Justin grinned, pulling Mikey away from battering the TV out of enthusiasm to sit on the floor. “It’s a cool show, though. I wouldn’t have imagined it being his scene 10 years ago.”
Chris exhaled loudly, “Has it been that long? Damn, I’m getting old.”
Mikey insisted they watch papa on TV for the next hour, but finally Justin was able to pull away to the kitchen. He grabbed his cell from the counter and shouted, “Guys, I’m going to order a pizza because I’m lazy and don’t feel like making you food. Yell out your orders now.”
Justin ordered and headed back to the living room, settling onto the floor behind his youngest.
“Hey Chris, why are you letting my kid watch Teen Mom?”
“It’s educational. I figure I’m saving you an awkward talk in the future,” Chris shrugged and changed the channel.
“Yeah, like 10 years from now…”
Justin was distracted by the front door opening, which was quite odd since he was sure the pizza boy didn’t have a key to his house.
“Hey, I’m home,” JC’s voice sounded from the foyer.
“Papa!” Mikey jumped up and ran to meet him as he walked into the living room. JC caught the boy and hoisted him up into a hug.
“Papa, I saw you on TV!” Mikey said and pointed at said object to make it clearer.
“Is that so? And what did you think?” JC said with a grin at Chris and Justin.
“It was so cool, papa! I liked the dancing!” He squirmed out of JC’s arms and hit the ground mid-dance, spinning around with a clumsy kick that nearly missed the end table next to him. JC leaned down to give Justin a greeting kiss, and then moved to briefly hug Chris.
“You’re home early,” Justin said.
“My meeting was canceled. It’s just as well, I’m exhausted... Hey, I thought we had two kids, J. Where’s the other squirt?” JC asked as he threw himself into a chair with an exhausted exhale.
Justin hid a smile, “He’s upstairs playing with his awesome new toy that favorite uncle Chris gave him.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the oldest boy flew at his papa and clambered quickly up into JC’s lap. JC laughed, breathless from the sudden weight, and drew his arms around Randy.
“Well, hi there! I hear you got a new toy.” Randy buried his head into JC’s neck and nodded. “What’s wrong, Booboo?”
Justin grinned at the nickname. It had stuck when Randy was a baby, but ever since Justin did Yogi Bear, JC had taken to using the name more frequently. He had once referred to Justin by the nickname as a joke, but Randy put a quick end to that, stating that it was his name only.
“Nothin’,” the boy replied and kept his head buried.
JC looked at Justin for an answer, but Justin just shrugged. Randy was known for his random outbursts of moodiness, so Justin had taken to letting him calm down before talking to him. JC decided to take that route, instead opting to just hold the boy while he sulked.
“So, how was your day, dear?” Justin asked with a sugary sweet smile.
“Oh, awesome. I got called a crack-head, so that was fun.”
Justin and Chris laughed. “Well, you did kind of start it, C,” Justin grinned, ducking the playful slap aimed at his head.
“Yeah, yeah, I know… How was yours, baby?”
Chris snorted at that, but kept his eyes fixed on the TV to avoid the glare emanating in heat waves from Justin.
“Very domestic. I did the laundry, cleaned the bathrooms, and helped Randy with his math workbook.” Justin said and leaned back onto the table behind him, stretching. JC’s eyes couldn’t help but rove, and Justin smirked at him.
Chris rolled his eyes and mock-gagged, “You made an honest woman out of him, JC.”
“Papa, papa! Can we go swimming?” Mikey asked after finally getting bored trying to do spins on his head (which basically amounted to aborted hand stands). Randy perked up at the mention of swimming and a grin finally appeared on his face.
“Can I call Brianna?” he asked, giving his papa the puppy eyes that worked all too well, often to Justin’s chagrin.
“Is Joe still in town?” JC asked. “I thought he said they were driving down to Palm Springs a couple of days ago.”
Chris shook his head and smiled fondly, as if JC was a cute, misled child, “No, man, they came back a couple of days ago. You’re just out and about so much you miss everything, ya’ dope.”
JC shot a playful glare at Chris and patted Randy on the back, “That’s your green light, Boo. Go ahead.”
Randy shot out of JC’s lap and skidded across the floor to get to the phone. Mikey trotted along after his older brother, cheering wildly.
“Wow, I see that crush he has on poor Bri is still going strong,” said JC as he slid out of his seat to sit on the floor next to Justin with a small groan. Justin laughed and wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders, tutting sympathetically at him.
“My poor Joshie’s getting old…”
“Hey, quiet. I can run circles around you, kid,” JC growled and ruffled Justin’s curls, then ran his hand down to wrap his arm around Justin’s neck to bring him in for a lingering kiss.
“Hookay, I’ll just go check on the boys,” Chris muttered and left, but neither of them took notice. JC pulled back to rest his forehead on Justin’s and smiled.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Welcome home, C,” Justin grinned and pecked him on the lips again, then stood up and stretched. He extended his hand down for JC to grab and pulled the older man up, planting his arm around his shoulders.
“All right, let’s go humor our children,” Justin said and pulled JC towards the patio door leading to the backyard pool.
“All right, Mikey! Ready? Cannonball!”
Justin and JC ventured out on the patio where Chris was in the midst of throwing little Mikey into the pool. Gently, of course, as Chris wasn’t stupid enough to invoke Justin and JC’s rage for potentially hurting their precious kids. Mikey squealed as he landed with a small splash, quickly floating to the top thanks to his swim ring.
“Daddy! I want Poofu!” Mikey said as he paddled towards the edge of the pool, and then poked his arms up in a grasping motion.
Poofu was a stuffed dog that Lance had given Mikey the very first day he came home. Of course, he hadn’t been named Poofu then, but Joey was quick to give it Lance’s old nickname. He called it irony, but Justin wasn’t so sure that he knew what he meant by that.
“You don’t want to get him wet, Mikey. Then he’ll have to go in the dryer and you won’t be able to sleep with him tonight,” Justin said and sat down on the patio deck. JC grabbed a few beers and handed them out to the other two as they sat under the shade with the kids’ joyful screeching in the background.
15 minutes later, the pizza, Joey, and Brianna arrived. Brianna headed straight for the pool with a wide grin on her face as Randy waved enthusiastically at her. Joey sat down with the guys, grabbing a beer and a slice for himself.
“’Sup, dorks?” he said and flashed them a wide grin that reflected his daughter’s.
“Hey, Joe,” JC said and gave his friend a one-armed hug. “Where’s Kelly?”
“She’s with Kloey at the hotel. Baby girl has a cold,” Joey frowned momentarily, but brightened when he spotted his oldest daughter dunking her little shadow (otherwise known as Randy) under the water with a loud laugh.
“Bri, please don’t break him, he’s very expensive!” Joey yelled and then winced. “Oh, bad joke, sorry guys.”
JC smiled, “It’s okay, Joe. Besides, you’re wrong. He’s irreplaceable.”
“Oh, you sap,” Justin said and grinned at JC. It was a true statement though. The boys, though not their biological children, were their worlds. Justin had turned down many great opportunities, both in music and movies, to stay home with his kids, and he wouldn’t change it for anything. JC had taken a local job with America’s Best Dance Crew which required him to leave for several hours a couple of days a week, but at least he came home to them every day. In the Hollywood business, that was a miracle. Justin still worked, but not nearly as much as he had 6 years ago before their kids, and much of it was from home. Justin and JC didn’t like the idea of a nanny raising their kids one bit, but the sacrifices were so worth it.
Chris, bored with all the baby talk that suddenly sprouted up after that, glanced over at the pool to check on the kids. They had abandoned the pool in favor of sitting on the edge, the two oldest talking while the youngest tried to look interested in the conversation. Chris could definitely sympathize. He turned back to Justin, who was watching him with amusement.
“What? Sorry, I actually care a lot about the, like, super adorable dress Kloey got and what you guys are wearing for Prom next week,” Chris said. “Justin, I think you should go with bubblegum pink and a Princess Barbie motif.”
“Shut up, you secretly love going clothes shopping for the boys,” Justin said with a raised eyebrow. He couldn’t count the number of times Uncle Chris had come bearing new rock-emblazoned t-shirts or Steelers jerseys (which JC grudgingly accepted with the decree that it not be worn outside of the house…not that he followed up on it).
“Duh, boy clothes are cool. Girl clothes are icky. The little guys will back me up on this,” Chris said, ignoring Joey’s cartoony rendition of Icky Vicky.
JC laughed, “I don’t know, Booboo seems pretty fixated on Bri. How do you feel about a spring wedding, Joe? You’re paying, though, being the bride’s father and all.”
“Yeaah, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here. My baby’s not getting married for at least another 20 years,” Joey said firmly. Justin nodded in agreement, unwilling to picture the day his boys left their home to start their own families yet. Far too soon…
“Brianna!” Mikey yelled, running out of the living room towards the pool, carrying Randy’s new guitar. “Look at this! Isn’t it cool?”
Justin scarcely had time to take a breath to tell him to slow down before he tripped, sending the little plastic guitar sailing through the air and into the chlorine depths. He scrambled towards the edge, ignoring his skinned knees (for now), as if hoping to be able to save it from its miserable death, but to no avail.
Randy watched the whole thing unfold with his mouth hanging wide open.
Then it all exploded.
Randy leaped up and stomped towards his brother. Justin sat up straighter, opening his mouth, but Randy was already screaming.
“You stupid idiot! Why do you ruin everything?! It’s not fair! You stupid baby, I hate you!”
He pierced his final words with a hard shove at his little brother, sending the boy sailing right after the plastic toy.
Justin realized all too late that Mikey wasn’t wearing his swim ring.
JC’s reflexes were a few seconds faster than Justin’s, who was trying to quell the horrified yells in his brain that his baby boy is drowning in order to do something useful. JC hurdled over his chair and tore his way to the pool, past Randy who was still fuming but slowly becoming aware of the situation, and jumped in. Justin was right behind him, skidding to his knees at the edge of the pool and grasping the ledge as if it was the only thing holding him together.
It felt like ages before JC emerged with Mikey in his grip, the little boy coughing weakly and crying, more out of fear than pain. Justin quickly held out his hands to lever his son out of the water and into his arms. He made sure Mikey had coughed up the water before wrapping his arms around the tiny soaked body and holding him to his chest, rocking back and forth. He wasn’t sure whether he was comforting Mikey more than he was trying to comfort himself.
JC pulled himself out of the water to run his hands over Mikey’s head, finally letting out the breath he had been holding in when he heard his youngest cry increasingly louder. He turned to Randy, who had been standing frozen throughout the entire ordeal. As soon as their eyes connected, Randy ran towards the house, leaving nothing behind but a pool of water. JC started after him, but a tiny hand caught his finger.
“Papa,” Mikey whimpered, and JC crouched down next to Justin and cupped his son’s cheek with a reassuring smile.
“You’re okay, baby boo. Daddy’s gonna take you inside and get you warmed up, okay?” JC said and replaced his hand with a kiss, then stood up to go after his oldest.
“J, come on, let’s take Mikey inside,” Chris said, nudging Justin’s arm. Justin looked up from where he had been buried in his son’s thick hair. Joey was standing by Brianna with hugs and soft murmurs to stop the teary, hitched breaths she was struggling with.
Justin stood slowly so that he didn’t jostle the little boy in his arms and nodded for Chris to go ahead of him to grab a blanket and some towels.
“It’ll be okay, baby. You’re a good sport, see, you’re a big boy… You’re okay.”
“Randy?” JC knocked on his oldest son’s door, expecting it to be locked (Randy recently discovered that he could steal the bathroom key to use on his bedroom when his family was particularly annoying). It was open, but JC knocked once more to let Randy know he was entering.
Randy had his green Ben-10 suitcase open on the floor and was shoving random articles of clothing into it. JC would have laughed if he hadn’t felt his heart crack and shatter at the implication.
“Booboo, what are you doing, honey?” JC asked, walking in and putting his hand on Randy’s shoulder to stop him from going back to the closet for more clothes.
“Leaving,” Randy choked out with tears running along his cheeks. He wrenched his shoulder away from his papa, grabbing an assortment of socks from his drawers and stuffing them into the already-full bag.
“But why are you leaving?”
Randy snuffled and wiped his nose on his arm, still wet from the pool. He attempted to zip up the bag, but it would only close mid-way. Frustrated, he let out a yell and threw the bag at the door, then flung himself on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest. JC sat next to him and ran a hand through his hair.
“Your daddy and I don’t want you to leave, Booboo. We’d miss you so much.”
Randy snorted but didn’t pull away from him, “No, you won’t. You like Mikey more. I was bad.”
“Randy, what you did was very wrong, and I know you know that now. But that does not mean we don’t love you anymore. We love you just as much as we love Mikey, both when you’re bad and when you’re good. Okay?” Randy nodded, burying his face in the crook of his papa’s arm. JC smiled and kissed the top of his head.
“This does not mean you won’t be punished, Boo, but we’ll deal with that later. Right now I think you have something else you need to be doing.”
Randy shook his head, “I can’t. Mikey probably hates me now.”
“No one in this house hates you, nor will they ever. The same thing goes for Mikey as it goes for us,” JC said. “He’s your brother, and no matter what you guys will always love each other. I know you didn’t mean it when you said you hated him, right?”
Randy shook his head, “I was just mad… I didn’t mean it.”
“Right,” JC stood up and pulled his son with him. “It was a very mean thing to say and that was a very dangerous thing to do. You understand that, don’t you? If we hadn’t been there, Mikey could have been seriously hurt. Now I really hope you’ll do the right thing, Boo. But even if you don’t, I love you, okay?”
JC leaned down and hugged the boy, then walked out of the room to check on his youngest downstairs.
Justin looked up as JC came down the stairs to the living room and sat down next to him and Mikey, who was bundled underneath two blankets and a towel on his head watching Yo Gabba Gabba on the couch.
“How’s my little guy doing?” JC asked, ruffling the towel until it covered Mikey’s eyes. Justin smiled as he laughed out a ‘hey!’ and tried to swat away his papa’s hand.
“I’ll take that as the crisis is over?” JC said and spread his arm over the couch to rest his hand on the back of Justin’s neck.
“He was mostly just shocked, but he got better when he found out that Go Diego Go is on next. He’s a resilient one, this guy!” Justin smiled at Mikey, who was enraptured by Biz Markie beat boxing on TV. Please. As if Justin hadn’t done that better in front of like thousands of people.
“How’s Randy doing?” Justin asked. He hadn’t seen his oldest when he finally came out of the shell-shocked state he’d been in after he got Mikey out of the water, but he trusted JC to take care of it. JC was Superdad after all, and the kids absolutely adored him.
JC hesitated, unwilling to discuss the details of Randy’s feelings in front of Mikey.
“He’s sad and a bit angry, but he should be coming down soon,” he said. Mikey turned towards his papa with a frown, “Is Randy mad at me ‘cause I broke his guitar?”
“No, baby boo, he knows it was an accident and he’s not mad about that anymore. I think he’ll tell you that himself when he comes downstairs,” JC said and smiled.
Joey walked in with Brianna in tow. He smiled at Mikey, “Hey kiddo, you feeling better?” Mikey nodded with a grin, “Daddy let me eat Go-Gurt and watch Diego!” Joey chuckled and leaned over to give him a hug, then gave Justin and JC one each.
“Listen, I have to go pick up some cold medicine for Kelly. Will you guys be okay?” he said, nudging Brianna to put her shoes on.
“We’re fine, Joe. You’ll stop by again before you leave for Orlando, right?” JC said and stood up to walk them to the door.
“Of course, man.”
JC saw Randy come down the stairs and smiled at the boy, proud that he was taking the initiative to take responsibility for his actions. Randy gave a tiny smile back, but his attention was on Brianna, who was halfway to the front door.
“Are you leaving?” Randy asked and hopped down the last four steps, landing as smoothly as a 6-year-old could. Brianna looked suitably impressed.
“Kloey’s sick, so we have to get her medicine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay?” she said, looking at her dad for approval. Joey nodded and grinned at JC, waggling his eyebrows then clutching his chest over his heart.
“Oh, okay. Cool,” Randy said, totally nonchalant even though he was fighting a grin. The pair left and JC turned to his son, speaking in a quiet but firm tone.
“I’m only allowing this because you don’t get to see her often. You’re still going to be punished, got it?”
“Yes, papa.”
Randy shuffled into the living room to his daddy and little brother. Mikey looked up from the TV, staring apprehensively at the older boy, but said nothing.
“Mikey…” Randy began and kicked his feet at the carpet, his eyebrows knitting worriedly. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to call you names and hurt you.”
Mikey looked down, “Do you really hate me?”
Randy leaned over and hugged his brother, “Of course I don’t hate you, silly. I was just mad. I promise I won’t ever do that again. I was so mad that I did that, I don’t ever want to do it again. I’m sorry, Mikey…”
“It’s okay. Do you want to watch Diego with me? We can share my Go-Gurt.”
Justin smiled as his boys settled down in the mass of blankets. He stood up and walked over to JC, who had been watching the scene from across the room. JC drew Justin into an embrace, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“We’ve got two of the greatest kids in the world, J,” he said and pressed a kiss to Justin’s temple. “I’m so lucky…”
Justin faced him and pecked him quickly on the lips before skirting away with a smirk, “Damn right, you are.”
“You minx,” JC laughed and heaved Justin back by the middle, or tried to. As they wrestled, their boys sat in their own world, content and splitting their Go-Gurt evenly between them.
Pairing: JC/Justin
Rating: PG
Summary: "Justin Timberlake, internationally famous superstar, was folding laundry on a Saturday. Instead of photoshoots, premiers, studio recording, or business meetings, he was performing domestic chores, as if he wasn’t rich enough to hire maids or something."
A look into the daily life of Justin, housewife extraordinaire. Featuring JC, the doting father, Chris, the crazy uncle, Joey, the phat one, and a bunch of kids.
Reverse-Warning: Don't worry, this is not an m-preg if that freaks you out. ;-)
Hi guys!
I got into a super-fluffy mood, and this was the product. Blame cutesy comedies. I'm still working on my other story, as well as yet another one in the works, so that should be coming up soon. Because I know all 2-or-so of you who actually read this are anxiously waiting, I'm sure. ;)
Here we find domesticated!with-kids!JuC, and the gratuitous usage of nicknames. I feel I need two disclaimers for this one.
Disclaimer #1: I have no knowledge of the private lives of any of the people mentioned in the following story. It's purely fictional!
Disclaimer #2: The pictures I used were found randomly searching Google Images and put together in 2 minutes using Paint. If they are your pictures and you think it's weird that I'm using them, please tell me and I'll take them down immediately.
Otherwise, hope y'all enjoy! :)
All's Fair
Justin Timberlake, internationally famous superstar, was folding laundry on a Saturday. Instead of photoshoots, premiers, studio recording, or business meetings, he was performing domestic chores, as if he wasn’t rich enough to hire maids or something.
No, he wasn’t bitter. He’d gotten used to it by now; ever since his significant other told him that it was bad karma or something to have others do your dirty work for you. Or maybe he’d just been told to get off his lazy ass and do it himself. Whatever. Point was, he was independent and mature now at age thirty (and damn, where did those years go…) to do his own laundry. And cook. And clean. And do other wifely things while his darling significant other was out doing good in the world, or judging people, or whatever it was that he did when he left the house for hours and hours. Soon Justin would sprout red hair and start wearing aprons.
No, he really wasn’t bitter.
Justin heard the dull thud of the front door closing in the foyer. He smiled and popped his head out of the laundry room as he heard a tenor voice echo through the house.
“Uncle Chris is in the house! Where are my boys?”
Justin smiled as he heard the pattering of little feet as an immediate response to Chris’ arrival. He walked into the living room just in time for the squeals of joy.
“Uncle Chris!”
“What did you get us?”
“William Randall, I did not raise you to be rude like that. Uncle Chris is not Santa Claus,” Justin scolded, though he couldn’t help but feel amused. It wasn’t their fault that they were conditioned to think that Chris equaled presents when their uncle apparently didn’t think their rooms were filled enough with toys.
“Sorry, daddy,” the six-year-old said and then leaned in to whisper the question again into Chris’ ear. Justin rolled his eyes and hid his smirk, folding the towel in his hands and setting it on the back of a chair, then sat down.
“Man, Chris, you should come around more often if you’re strong enough to handle both of them like that,” Justin said and laughed at the older man who was juggling the boys on each arm.
“Yeah, your uncle Chris is Superman, didn’t you know?” Chris said and heaved them up as if he was lifting weights, but he didn’t get very far.
“No, silly, Uncle Joey is Superman. He showed us his costume!”
“Oh, right, how could I forget…? But you know, you’re not supposed to tell anyone! It’s his secret identity! Shh!” Chris stage-whispered and put them down. “Now do you guys want your presents or not?!”
“Duh!”
“Randy,” Justin warned with a smile on his face, which he supposed was the reason he went ignored in favor of the brightly wrapped boxes Chris pulled out of seemingly nowhere.
“Mikey, your pants are falling down. Quit jumping on the couch,” Justin said to the three-year-old, who clasped a chubby hand to his drooping pants but kept jumping and screaming “yay yay yay!” until it was his turn to rip open his present.
“Look, daddy, I got a guitar!” Randy said, holding the box above his head while bouncing on his heels.
It was, in fact, a thin, plastic, battery-powered guitar, but Randy seemed excited nonetheless.
“Yeah, my man’s going to become a part of the band!” Chris said and grinned, slapping Randy a high five. Randy smacked a kiss on Chris’ cheek with a squealed ‘thank you!’ which earned him a goofy grin on the old man’s face.
Justin glanced over to see Mikey’s progress, or lack thereof.
“Want me to help, little man?” Justin sat on the couch next to his youngest and pulled him onto his lap. He tore through the tape holding the wrappings together, then handed it back to his son. When Mikey finally ripped through the paper, he shone a triumphant grin to Justin, who threaded his hand through the thick brunette hair falling into the boy’s joy-crinkled eyes. Just like his papa, Justin thought with a smile.
“Lego’s! Cool!” Mikey yelled and jumped out of Justin’s hold to bounce into Chris’ arms. Chris mock-groaned, “You’re gettin’ big there, sport. You’re going to be playing for the Steelers in a couple of years, I bet!”
Justin laughed, “Don’t let JC hear you. He’s grooming two mini-Redskins fans.”
“Bah, it’ll be our secret. You guys just let your papa think that, we all know you’re true Steelers fans. Right, guys?”
Both boys yelled out “right!” in the midst of tearing the toys out of their cardboard cocoons.
“You know the only reason they’re agreeing is because you just gave them toys, right?”
Chris waved dismissively and settled next to him, throwing his arm along back of the couch behind Justin. He reached for the remote and turned on the TV to tune out the excited chatter of the two boys.
“So, where’s Ricky Ricardo?” Chris asked as he flipped through the channels, eventually settling on a rerun of Jersey Shore.
Justin rolled his eyes at his friend, “He’s in Burbank taping the next episode. Then he’s got some sort of important producer meetings for dinner, so he said he won’t be back until tonight. Are you sticking around?”
“Yeah, man, I’m starving. Plus I don’t go back home until next week, so I’ll see him eventually.”
Mikey’s shrieks of outrage broke into their conversation. The boy was brewing storm clouds all over his face as he yelled, “That’s not fair!” with a stomp of his foot to punctuate it. Justin headed over with a sigh.
“What’s not fair, little man?”
“Randy won’t let me play with his guitar! I said he could play with my Lego’s but he won’t let me try his toy!” Mikey then stomped his foot again in case Justin hadn’t gotten the point that he was really mad.
“Randy, can’t he try your guitar for a second?”
Randy pouted, “No, he’ll break it! He’s always breaking stuff!”
“Do not!”
“Mikey,” Justin said slowly, and he was in awe at his own patience. He was getting good at this stuff. Usually it was JC that was all over the patience thing. “Why don’t you play with your new Lego’s and let Randy play with his new toy? Then maybe later he’ll be willing to share if you promise to be careful with it. Okay, guys?”
“Whatever,” Randy muttered and picked up his paper guitar, heading for the stairs to escape to his room.
Justin turned to Chris and clutched at his heart, “Barely turned 6 and already he’s a moody teenager!”
“And you guys wonder why I don’t want to start a family…” Chris laughed as he sat down next to Mikey to help build his Lego spaceship.
“I still don’t get it. You’re so good with kids!”
“Yeah, as their kooky uncle, not a parent,” Chris said and shook his head, chuckling. “Anyway, why would I want anybody else when I have these awesome guys here? Now I actually have a reason to come over and eat your food.” He grinned and ruffled Mikey’s hair, earning a squawk from the disheveled boy for ruining his ‘do.
Suddenly Mikey jumped up and ran at the TV.
“Look, it’s papa!” he yelled, bouncing as he held on to the edge of the screen.
It was a rerun of last week’s episode of America’s Best Dance Crew, and JC was looking particularly fine in his olive green shirt.
“You know, I think I’ve only seen this show like twice,” Chris remarked, settling back on the couch to watch his friend on TV as if it was totally normal. Justin supposed it was pretty normal for them.
“Yeah, I love the guy, but I don’t have time to watch it every week. Besides, I always know how it ends before it even airs, so it’s kind of pointless… Except when JC takes his claws out, that’s always fun when it’s not directed at me,” Justin grinned, pulling Mikey away from battering the TV out of enthusiasm to sit on the floor. “It’s a cool show, though. I wouldn’t have imagined it being his scene 10 years ago.”
Chris exhaled loudly, “Has it been that long? Damn, I’m getting old.”
Mikey insisted they watch papa on TV for the next hour, but finally Justin was able to pull away to the kitchen. He grabbed his cell from the counter and shouted, “Guys, I’m going to order a pizza because I’m lazy and don’t feel like making you food. Yell out your orders now.”
Justin ordered and headed back to the living room, settling onto the floor behind his youngest.
“Hey Chris, why are you letting my kid watch Teen Mom?”
“It’s educational. I figure I’m saving you an awkward talk in the future,” Chris shrugged and changed the channel.
“Yeah, like 10 years from now…”
Justin was distracted by the front door opening, which was quite odd since he was sure the pizza boy didn’t have a key to his house.
“Hey, I’m home,” JC’s voice sounded from the foyer.
“Papa!” Mikey jumped up and ran to meet him as he walked into the living room. JC caught the boy and hoisted him up into a hug.
“Papa, I saw you on TV!” Mikey said and pointed at said object to make it clearer.
“Is that so? And what did you think?” JC said with a grin at Chris and Justin.
“It was so cool, papa! I liked the dancing!” He squirmed out of JC’s arms and hit the ground mid-dance, spinning around with a clumsy kick that nearly missed the end table next to him. JC leaned down to give Justin a greeting kiss, and then moved to briefly hug Chris.
“You’re home early,” Justin said.
“My meeting was canceled. It’s just as well, I’m exhausted... Hey, I thought we had two kids, J. Where’s the other squirt?” JC asked as he threw himself into a chair with an exhausted exhale.
Justin hid a smile, “He’s upstairs playing with his awesome new toy that favorite uncle Chris gave him.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, the oldest boy flew at his papa and clambered quickly up into JC’s lap. JC laughed, breathless from the sudden weight, and drew his arms around Randy.
“Well, hi there! I hear you got a new toy.” Randy buried his head into JC’s neck and nodded. “What’s wrong, Booboo?”
Justin grinned at the nickname. It had stuck when Randy was a baby, but ever since Justin did Yogi Bear, JC had taken to using the name more frequently. He had once referred to Justin by the nickname as a joke, but Randy put a quick end to that, stating that it was his name only.
“Nothin’,” the boy replied and kept his head buried.
JC looked at Justin for an answer, but Justin just shrugged. Randy was known for his random outbursts of moodiness, so Justin had taken to letting him calm down before talking to him. JC decided to take that route, instead opting to just hold the boy while he sulked.
“So, how was your day, dear?” Justin asked with a sugary sweet smile.
“Oh, awesome. I got called a crack-head, so that was fun.”
Justin and Chris laughed. “Well, you did kind of start it, C,” Justin grinned, ducking the playful slap aimed at his head.
“Yeah, yeah, I know… How was yours, baby?”
Chris snorted at that, but kept his eyes fixed on the TV to avoid the glare emanating in heat waves from Justin.
“Very domestic. I did the laundry, cleaned the bathrooms, and helped Randy with his math workbook.” Justin said and leaned back onto the table behind him, stretching. JC’s eyes couldn’t help but rove, and Justin smirked at him.
Chris rolled his eyes and mock-gagged, “You made an honest woman out of him, JC.”
“Papa, papa! Can we go swimming?” Mikey asked after finally getting bored trying to do spins on his head (which basically amounted to aborted hand stands). Randy perked up at the mention of swimming and a grin finally appeared on his face.
“Can I call Brianna?” he asked, giving his papa the puppy eyes that worked all too well, often to Justin’s chagrin.
“Is Joe still in town?” JC asked. “I thought he said they were driving down to Palm Springs a couple of days ago.”
Chris shook his head and smiled fondly, as if JC was a cute, misled child, “No, man, they came back a couple of days ago. You’re just out and about so much you miss everything, ya’ dope.”
JC shot a playful glare at Chris and patted Randy on the back, “That’s your green light, Boo. Go ahead.”
Randy shot out of JC’s lap and skidded across the floor to get to the phone. Mikey trotted along after his older brother, cheering wildly.
“Wow, I see that crush he has on poor Bri is still going strong,” said JC as he slid out of his seat to sit on the floor next to Justin with a small groan. Justin laughed and wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders, tutting sympathetically at him.
“My poor Joshie’s getting old…”
“Hey, quiet. I can run circles around you, kid,” JC growled and ruffled Justin’s curls, then ran his hand down to wrap his arm around Justin’s neck to bring him in for a lingering kiss.
“Hookay, I’ll just go check on the boys,” Chris muttered and left, but neither of them took notice. JC pulled back to rest his forehead on Justin’s and smiled.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Welcome home, C,” Justin grinned and pecked him on the lips again, then stood up and stretched. He extended his hand down for JC to grab and pulled the older man up, planting his arm around his shoulders.
“All right, let’s go humor our children,” Justin said and pulled JC towards the patio door leading to the backyard pool.
“All right, Mikey! Ready? Cannonball!”
Justin and JC ventured out on the patio where Chris was in the midst of throwing little Mikey into the pool. Gently, of course, as Chris wasn’t stupid enough to invoke Justin and JC’s rage for potentially hurting their precious kids. Mikey squealed as he landed with a small splash, quickly floating to the top thanks to his swim ring.
“Daddy! I want Poofu!” Mikey said as he paddled towards the edge of the pool, and then poked his arms up in a grasping motion.
Poofu was a stuffed dog that Lance had given Mikey the very first day he came home. Of course, he hadn’t been named Poofu then, but Joey was quick to give it Lance’s old nickname. He called it irony, but Justin wasn’t so sure that he knew what he meant by that.
“You don’t want to get him wet, Mikey. Then he’ll have to go in the dryer and you won’t be able to sleep with him tonight,” Justin said and sat down on the patio deck. JC grabbed a few beers and handed them out to the other two as they sat under the shade with the kids’ joyful screeching in the background.
15 minutes later, the pizza, Joey, and Brianna arrived. Brianna headed straight for the pool with a wide grin on her face as Randy waved enthusiastically at her. Joey sat down with the guys, grabbing a beer and a slice for himself.
“’Sup, dorks?” he said and flashed them a wide grin that reflected his daughter’s.
“Hey, Joe,” JC said and gave his friend a one-armed hug. “Where’s Kelly?”
“She’s with Kloey at the hotel. Baby girl has a cold,” Joey frowned momentarily, but brightened when he spotted his oldest daughter dunking her little shadow (otherwise known as Randy) under the water with a loud laugh.
“Bri, please don’t break him, he’s very expensive!” Joey yelled and then winced. “Oh, bad joke, sorry guys.”
JC smiled, “It’s okay, Joe. Besides, you’re wrong. He’s irreplaceable.”
“Oh, you sap,” Justin said and grinned at JC. It was a true statement though. The boys, though not their biological children, were their worlds. Justin had turned down many great opportunities, both in music and movies, to stay home with his kids, and he wouldn’t change it for anything. JC had taken a local job with America’s Best Dance Crew which required him to leave for several hours a couple of days a week, but at least he came home to them every day. In the Hollywood business, that was a miracle. Justin still worked, but not nearly as much as he had 6 years ago before their kids, and much of it was from home. Justin and JC didn’t like the idea of a nanny raising their kids one bit, but the sacrifices were so worth it.
Chris, bored with all the baby talk that suddenly sprouted up after that, glanced over at the pool to check on the kids. They had abandoned the pool in favor of sitting on the edge, the two oldest talking while the youngest tried to look interested in the conversation. Chris could definitely sympathize. He turned back to Justin, who was watching him with amusement.
“What? Sorry, I actually care a lot about the, like, super adorable dress Kloey got and what you guys are wearing for Prom next week,” Chris said. “Justin, I think you should go with bubblegum pink and a Princess Barbie motif.”
“Shut up, you secretly love going clothes shopping for the boys,” Justin said with a raised eyebrow. He couldn’t count the number of times Uncle Chris had come bearing new rock-emblazoned t-shirts or Steelers jerseys (which JC grudgingly accepted with the decree that it not be worn outside of the house…not that he followed up on it).
“Duh, boy clothes are cool. Girl clothes are icky. The little guys will back me up on this,” Chris said, ignoring Joey’s cartoony rendition of Icky Vicky.
JC laughed, “I don’t know, Booboo seems pretty fixated on Bri. How do you feel about a spring wedding, Joe? You’re paying, though, being the bride’s father and all.”
“Yeaah, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here. My baby’s not getting married for at least another 20 years,” Joey said firmly. Justin nodded in agreement, unwilling to picture the day his boys left their home to start their own families yet. Far too soon…
“Brianna!” Mikey yelled, running out of the living room towards the pool, carrying Randy’s new guitar. “Look at this! Isn’t it cool?”
Justin scarcely had time to take a breath to tell him to slow down before he tripped, sending the little plastic guitar sailing through the air and into the chlorine depths. He scrambled towards the edge, ignoring his skinned knees (for now), as if hoping to be able to save it from its miserable death, but to no avail.
Randy watched the whole thing unfold with his mouth hanging wide open.
Then it all exploded.
Randy leaped up and stomped towards his brother. Justin sat up straighter, opening his mouth, but Randy was already screaming.
“You stupid idiot! Why do you ruin everything?! It’s not fair! You stupid baby, I hate you!”
He pierced his final words with a hard shove at his little brother, sending the boy sailing right after the plastic toy.
Justin realized all too late that Mikey wasn’t wearing his swim ring.
JC’s reflexes were a few seconds faster than Justin’s, who was trying to quell the horrified yells in his brain that his baby boy is drowning in order to do something useful. JC hurdled over his chair and tore his way to the pool, past Randy who was still fuming but slowly becoming aware of the situation, and jumped in. Justin was right behind him, skidding to his knees at the edge of the pool and grasping the ledge as if it was the only thing holding him together.
It felt like ages before JC emerged with Mikey in his grip, the little boy coughing weakly and crying, more out of fear than pain. Justin quickly held out his hands to lever his son out of the water and into his arms. He made sure Mikey had coughed up the water before wrapping his arms around the tiny soaked body and holding him to his chest, rocking back and forth. He wasn’t sure whether he was comforting Mikey more than he was trying to comfort himself.
JC pulled himself out of the water to run his hands over Mikey’s head, finally letting out the breath he had been holding in when he heard his youngest cry increasingly louder. He turned to Randy, who had been standing frozen throughout the entire ordeal. As soon as their eyes connected, Randy ran towards the house, leaving nothing behind but a pool of water. JC started after him, but a tiny hand caught his finger.
“Papa,” Mikey whimpered, and JC crouched down next to Justin and cupped his son’s cheek with a reassuring smile.
“You’re okay, baby boo. Daddy’s gonna take you inside and get you warmed up, okay?” JC said and replaced his hand with a kiss, then stood up to go after his oldest.
“J, come on, let’s take Mikey inside,” Chris said, nudging Justin’s arm. Justin looked up from where he had been buried in his son’s thick hair. Joey was standing by Brianna with hugs and soft murmurs to stop the teary, hitched breaths she was struggling with.
Justin stood slowly so that he didn’t jostle the little boy in his arms and nodded for Chris to go ahead of him to grab a blanket and some towels.
“It’ll be okay, baby. You’re a good sport, see, you’re a big boy… You’re okay.”
“Randy?” JC knocked on his oldest son’s door, expecting it to be locked (Randy recently discovered that he could steal the bathroom key to use on his bedroom when his family was particularly annoying). It was open, but JC knocked once more to let Randy know he was entering.
Randy had his green Ben-10 suitcase open on the floor and was shoving random articles of clothing into it. JC would have laughed if he hadn’t felt his heart crack and shatter at the implication.
“Booboo, what are you doing, honey?” JC asked, walking in and putting his hand on Randy’s shoulder to stop him from going back to the closet for more clothes.
“Leaving,” Randy choked out with tears running along his cheeks. He wrenched his shoulder away from his papa, grabbing an assortment of socks from his drawers and stuffing them into the already-full bag.
“But why are you leaving?”
Randy snuffled and wiped his nose on his arm, still wet from the pool. He attempted to zip up the bag, but it would only close mid-way. Frustrated, he let out a yell and threw the bag at the door, then flung himself on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest. JC sat next to him and ran a hand through his hair.
“Your daddy and I don’t want you to leave, Booboo. We’d miss you so much.”
Randy snorted but didn’t pull away from him, “No, you won’t. You like Mikey more. I was bad.”
“Randy, what you did was very wrong, and I know you know that now. But that does not mean we don’t love you anymore. We love you just as much as we love Mikey, both when you’re bad and when you’re good. Okay?” Randy nodded, burying his face in the crook of his papa’s arm. JC smiled and kissed the top of his head.
“This does not mean you won’t be punished, Boo, but we’ll deal with that later. Right now I think you have something else you need to be doing.”
Randy shook his head, “I can’t. Mikey probably hates me now.”
“No one in this house hates you, nor will they ever. The same thing goes for Mikey as it goes for us,” JC said. “He’s your brother, and no matter what you guys will always love each other. I know you didn’t mean it when you said you hated him, right?”
Randy shook his head, “I was just mad… I didn’t mean it.”
“Right,” JC stood up and pulled his son with him. “It was a very mean thing to say and that was a very dangerous thing to do. You understand that, don’t you? If we hadn’t been there, Mikey could have been seriously hurt. Now I really hope you’ll do the right thing, Boo. But even if you don’t, I love you, okay?”
JC leaned down and hugged the boy, then walked out of the room to check on his youngest downstairs.
Justin looked up as JC came down the stairs to the living room and sat down next to him and Mikey, who was bundled underneath two blankets and a towel on his head watching Yo Gabba Gabba on the couch.
“How’s my little guy doing?” JC asked, ruffling the towel until it covered Mikey’s eyes. Justin smiled as he laughed out a ‘hey!’ and tried to swat away his papa’s hand.
“I’ll take that as the crisis is over?” JC said and spread his arm over the couch to rest his hand on the back of Justin’s neck.
“He was mostly just shocked, but he got better when he found out that Go Diego Go is on next. He’s a resilient one, this guy!” Justin smiled at Mikey, who was enraptured by Biz Markie beat boxing on TV. Please. As if Justin hadn’t done that better in front of like thousands of people.
“How’s Randy doing?” Justin asked. He hadn’t seen his oldest when he finally came out of the shell-shocked state he’d been in after he got Mikey out of the water, but he trusted JC to take care of it. JC was Superdad after all, and the kids absolutely adored him.
JC hesitated, unwilling to discuss the details of Randy’s feelings in front of Mikey.
“He’s sad and a bit angry, but he should be coming down soon,” he said. Mikey turned towards his papa with a frown, “Is Randy mad at me ‘cause I broke his guitar?”
“No, baby boo, he knows it was an accident and he’s not mad about that anymore. I think he’ll tell you that himself when he comes downstairs,” JC said and smiled.
Joey walked in with Brianna in tow. He smiled at Mikey, “Hey kiddo, you feeling better?” Mikey nodded with a grin, “Daddy let me eat Go-Gurt and watch Diego!” Joey chuckled and leaned over to give him a hug, then gave Justin and JC one each.
“Listen, I have to go pick up some cold medicine for Kelly. Will you guys be okay?” he said, nudging Brianna to put her shoes on.
“We’re fine, Joe. You’ll stop by again before you leave for Orlando, right?” JC said and stood up to walk them to the door.
“Of course, man.”
JC saw Randy come down the stairs and smiled at the boy, proud that he was taking the initiative to take responsibility for his actions. Randy gave a tiny smile back, but his attention was on Brianna, who was halfway to the front door.
“Are you leaving?” Randy asked and hopped down the last four steps, landing as smoothly as a 6-year-old could. Brianna looked suitably impressed.
“Kloey’s sick, so we have to get her medicine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay?” she said, looking at her dad for approval. Joey nodded and grinned at JC, waggling his eyebrows then clutching his chest over his heart.
“Oh, okay. Cool,” Randy said, totally nonchalant even though he was fighting a grin. The pair left and JC turned to his son, speaking in a quiet but firm tone.
“I’m only allowing this because you don’t get to see her often. You’re still going to be punished, got it?”
“Yes, papa.”
Randy shuffled into the living room to his daddy and little brother. Mikey looked up from the TV, staring apprehensively at the older boy, but said nothing.
“Mikey…” Randy began and kicked his feet at the carpet, his eyebrows knitting worriedly. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to call you names and hurt you.”
Mikey looked down, “Do you really hate me?”
Randy leaned over and hugged his brother, “Of course I don’t hate you, silly. I was just mad. I promise I won’t ever do that again. I was so mad that I did that, I don’t ever want to do it again. I’m sorry, Mikey…”
“It’s okay. Do you want to watch Diego with me? We can share my Go-Gurt.”
Justin smiled as his boys settled down in the mass of blankets. He stood up and walked over to JC, who had been watching the scene from across the room. JC drew Justin into an embrace, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“We’ve got two of the greatest kids in the world, J,” he said and pressed a kiss to Justin’s temple. “I’m so lucky…”
Justin faced him and pecked him quickly on the lips before skirting away with a smirk, “Damn right, you are.”
“You minx,” JC laughed and heaved Justin back by the middle, or tried to. As they wrestled, their boys sat in their own world, content and splitting their Go-Gurt evenly between them.