(no subject)
There was a loud, explosion-like vocalization followed by a keening shriek and RAT-TAT-TAT noises of war to indicate the arrival of his partner and their son. The next thing he knew, a blond-haired blur of a child was throwing himself into his arms. Wayne laughed, catching Ryan before the four and a half year old could injure him or himself with the impact those little legs could deliver.
"DADDY DADDY LOOK WHAT BABA GOT ME," Ryan held out his hand and it was only now that Wayne could see the model airplane.
"That explains the bombing noises. Is this plane going to war, Ryan?" Wayne asked, looking at it. He felt, rather than saw, his son enthusiastically nod. Ryan was nodding so hard that the shakes were carrying down into Wayne's body.
"Sorry about that," Brandon said, rounding the corner with a sheepish look. "I didn't think one model warhawk was going to be such a problem."
"You never think like a boy," Wayne criticized, but he was amused. Ryan liked anything loud, naturally he liked a plane he could pretend was bombing the hell out of some unfortunate place. "It's not a problem, though."
Brandon actually looked relieved, his shoulders drooping a bit with it. "Thank god 'cause I don't think either of us can get it away from him, now."
"It's MY plane," Ryan said, nearly cross sounding, and eying his fathers suspiciously.
"Absolutely, buddy, it's your plane. No one's gonna take it anywhere. Except you. You'll take it everywhere, now, I'm sure."
"DADDY DADDY LOOK WHAT BABA GOT ME," Ryan held out his hand and it was only now that Wayne could see the model airplane.
"That explains the bombing noises. Is this plane going to war, Ryan?" Wayne asked, looking at it. He felt, rather than saw, his son enthusiastically nod. Ryan was nodding so hard that the shakes were carrying down into Wayne's body.
"Sorry about that," Brandon said, rounding the corner with a sheepish look. "I didn't think one model warhawk was going to be such a problem."
"You never think like a boy," Wayne criticized, but he was amused. Ryan liked anything loud, naturally he liked a plane he could pretend was bombing the hell out of some unfortunate place. "It's not a problem, though."
Brandon actually looked relieved, his shoulders drooping a bit with it. "Thank god 'cause I don't think either of us can get it away from him, now."
"It's MY plane," Ryan said, nearly cross sounding, and eying his fathers suspiciously.
"Absolutely, buddy, it's your plane. No one's gonna take it anywhere. Except you. You'll take it everywhere, now, I'm sure."