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Sundays were always Stan’s favourite. No work, no school. Just late family breakfasts and cartoons playing on loop all day.
He was always the first to wake up, usually hours before Bill and the boys did, but he didn’t bother to get up. It was a time of reflection and for him to really appreciate what he had.
But this morning in particular he’d slept in until nearly 10am, around three hours longer than usual, meaning that when he opened his eyes he was faced with Bill smiling at him sleepily.
“Morning,” Bill mumbled, eyes barely open.
“Mmmm,” came his response.
Bill moved forward and pressed their noses together clumsily, movements still hazy and slow, before ducking down to make their lips meet.
Stan frowned at the thought of morning breath, but noted that Bill always tasted of coffee and cigarettes no matter what. The sheets shifted as he turned on his side to press closer, wrapping a leg around Bill’s waist while he licked into his mouth. Hands drifted under his pajama shirt and roamed all over his back, tracing patterns into the skin there with a gentle finger.
“D’you-” Stan whispered, only being able to get out one word before melting into Bill again, “D’you think the kids are still asleep?”
“‘M’not sh-sh-sure,” he responded, eyes still shut as he placed tender kisses along Stan’s neck, collar bones and chest. “But they c-can make their own breakfast if they are.”
He laughed and kissed the top of Bill’s head, gripping tufts of hair as he worked his way around every part of his upper body.
It felt as if they had all the time in the world, the sun seeming to make every movement even more beautiful when every part of their bodies were bathed in light. The natural red shade of Bill’s hair was exposed and soft to the touch, his usually warm body even more comforting, and even Stan’s own cool skin felt less unappealing.
“I wish everyday could be like this,” he confessed, gripping Bill’s worn band t-shirt in his fist and tilting his chin up so they could join their mouths again. Bill smiled into the kiss and placed his hand over Stan’s own, then linking their fingers and kissing each one of his knuckles.
“Me too.”
They both privately thought of the demanding nature of Stan’s job, just how stressed Bill got when his editor demanded a revised version of his manuscript, the times when it felt as if they had no time for their children. The fact that Stan worked 9 to 5 when Bill worked from home, which meant witnessing more of the kid’s funny anecdotes, something the former had to relive through videos or retellings from his boys.
“That’s why we have to make these days count.” He gave Bill’s hand a squeeze. “Unless you feel like becoming the sole breadwinner and pulling the kids out of school.”
Bill grinned back at him. “Now th-there’s an idea.”
About another ten minutes passed, filled with gentle exchanges and touches that became slightly more daring.
“They haven’t even moved yet,” Stan said after breaking away from another intense kiss. “I think we have time.”
He laughed when he saw just how fast Bill moved, practically tearing off his t-shirt and fumbling with the buttons on Stan’s shirt. “Don’t judge m-mmm-me,” Bill scowled, slowly disappearing under the sheets, “It’s been a week.”
“You’re such a horny fuck, I swear-”
The sound of two pairs of tiny feet slapped against the wooden floor leading up to their bedroom, alongside delighted shrieks and “pew, pew!” noises.
“Babe,” Stan hissed, practically yanking Bill up by his hair - just in time, too, as their boys had no concept of privacy, bursting through the door and jumping on the bed.
“Daddy! Teddy and me are playing cowboys!” Stan felt the weight of a very excited toddler in his lap, unable to sit still. He was yelling far too loud for what was supposed to be a relaxing morning, but Stan pressed closer nonetheless and reached around to kiss one of his chubby cheeks, which was flushed red from activity. Noah had the solemn face of his father, but it didn’t mean he was any less energetic than his brother, who was bouncing around in Bill’s lap. His rich brown eyes also came from Stan, but the mop of dirty blond curls belonged to Patty, along with the wit from the both of them that helped he and Bill bond. The curls in question were currently in a heap on top of his head, knots galore from sticky fingers running through each strand. Stan grimaced at the inevitable screaming to come later in the bath.
“Yeah!” Teddy chimed in. Bill’s son had the beautiful bronze glow of his mom, Audra, along with the smattering of brown freckles and near-black hair. When you looked harder, though, Teddy’s easy going nature and blinding smile was all Bill. “But no-one’s won yet.” He pouted.
Bill twisted him around so he was facing him and raised an eyebrow.
“Is that b-because you haven’t got yuh-y-your noble steeds? Huh?” He motioned to himself and Stan, and once he got an eager nod in response Teddy was being tickled, Bill laying him down and blowing raspberries on his stomach, which was shaking with laughter. Stan could feel giggling underneath him, which only made him wrap his arms around Noah tightly and cover his face in kisses.
Once the squealing had subsided, Stan addressed both of the boys. “I’m afraid horses and cowboys can’t fight very well without breakfast, though.”
They took one look at each other, and nodded seriously. “We know,” they chorused.
“But-”
“We know it’s not good when there’s a ‘but’, right?” Bill stage whispered, winking at them both.
Stan rolled his eyes and ignored the laughs. “But,” he continued, “no sugar today. Daddy and I let you have too much on your cereal yesterday and you didn’t go to bed until very, very late.”
‘Daddy and I’ was being generous. It was mostly Bill passing the sugar packets while Stan had his back turned.
Noah shuffled closer and put on his ‘let’s make a deal’ face, something that both impressed him and left him exasperated at his son’s persistence. “We’ll eat good tomorrow if we have pancakes today. Daddy burned them last weekend!”
Teddy was nodding behind him enthusiastically, smiling in the most innocent way.
“They have a p-puh-oint.” Bill interjected, pulling both kids close and matching their charming smiles - a trio Stan found very hard to resist.
He considered this for a second. Sat back, rested his head against a pillow. His gaze turned to his boyfriend.
“Fine. You decide what we eat today. A nice, healthy breakfast, or pancakes.”
Bill wasn’t stupid. It was facing the wrath of his partner, or satisfying his children. Stan noted that he was swallowing nervously.
Even Noah and Teddy were silent as the ultimatum was considered.
The quiet was filled as Bill began to hit his hands off of his thighs in a repetitive motion to match his chant.
“Pancakes, p-pancakes, pancakes, pancakes!” He stood up on the bed and dragged Teddy and Noah with him, holding their hands as they bounced and screamed “Pancakes!” with him. Stan could barely keep still with the commotion, but his face remained disapproving.
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m raising three children!” He yelled over the din.
“C’mon, Daddy!” Teddy squealed.
Despite his protests, Bill had taken him by the hand and forced him to his feet, encouraging him to bounce.
“Say it!” Noah prodded Stan’s stomach and frowned at him, lip stuck out exaggeratedly.
He gave an exasperated sigh and locked eyes with Bill, who was raising his eyebrow challengingly, partially hidden by the messy hair covering his face.
Stan was never one to back down from a challenge.
“Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes!” He said as loud as possible, jumping higher than before and almost falling off of the bed.
“Last one t-t-to the kitchen has to eat the ones that Daddy drops on the floor!” Bill said, long legs an advantage as he made his way to the kitchen, socked feet sliding all over.
The morning consisted of flour covering immaculate pyjamas and egg spilling over mixing bowls, but out of all the mess came a family with full hearts as well as stomachs.