Work Text:
It was a crisp morning. The kind in which the end of your nose pinkens with the tips of your fingers, your eyes even start to water. Sunrise was still faintly visible in the sky in the form of multicoloured pastel wisps threaded through the blue.
We’d tugged fluffy mittens onto Ellie’s hands, bundled her up in her scarf and coat, plopped her bobbled hat onto her head. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes blue as we each held onto a hand quite far above her head because even George was not that short.
Maybe it was quite early for a walk on a Sunday, but we were all up naturally so we thought why not go home and then make lunch after it. Besides, Ellie liked the other children who would show up at the playground at the same time that we did.
By now she was three and was stumbling along the path on her little legs, though we tended to swing her between us over potholes and cracks so she wouldn’t trip over.
“Weee!” she squealed as she swung over a particularly large crater. The tinkle of a giggle that followed made George and I grin, satisfied, at each other.
“Look, El, what’s that?” I asked, crouching a bit as we walked so I could point out a passing plane, cutting right through the sky.
She followed my finger with her eyes and furrowed her brows at it. “Birdie?”
I chuckled and George frowned at me disapprovingly. “Not quite. Can you think of a word beginning with ‘ah’ that we learned recently?” I asked, pecking her cheek. Her brows furrowed even more as she focused on the aeroplane. It wasn’t too far away, not yet a speck followed by a trail of smoke. Though there was obviously still a trail of smoke.
“Gogy?” she whispered, tugging on George’s arm. He looked down at her as if he had no idea what she was about to ask. “What’s that thing in the sky? I can’t remember and neither can Daddy so we need your smart brain.” George could help but smile at that.
George took an exaggerated moment to look at the plane and tap his chin in thought, narrowing his eyes while I rolled mine.
“Ahah! I think the right word is ‘aeroplane’,” George said proudly, swiping his thumb over her hand.
“Thank you, Gogy!” she whispered excitedly and then turned to me with a smug grin. “It’s a… it’s a… a ah-” she furrowed her eyebrows again while I just waited patiently for her to figure out how to say it again.
“A air-plane,” she finally got out. I smiled proudly, blowing a congratulatory raspberry onto her cheek, George positively glaring at me.
“Well done, that’s really good, darling,” I said, stopping to hug her through her giggles. George shook his head but let a smile creep onto his face.
“You’re going to make her cold if you keep spitting on her like that,” George scolded, leaning down to wipe her cheek clean. He wasn’t actually mad, though.
“Yeah, but I’m hugging to make up for the lost heat,” I protested, sticking my togue out at him playfully to which he rolled his eyes and scoffed simultaneously.
“Good,” he huffed. “Now, get up, we need to go.”
I stood, a lightly concerned frown on my face as I gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Are you alright?” Ellie had started running around us in a circle, absolutely oblivious.
“I’m fine. Just tired,” he said, kissing me back and smiling now. I took an extra searching look at George before I pulled him in for a quick hug.
“Just make sure you tell me if you’re not, ok?” I murmured to him and he nodded into my shoulder, just as Ellie started to make complaining whines from our feet.
“My head feels so bad,” she said, barely walking in a straight line as she waddled around, clutching it and pouting.
“That’s called being dizzy. It happens when you run around in a circle,” George said matter-of-factly, kneeling down to stop her in her tracks, right as she was about to topple over. Instead she was drawn into George and he lifted her, using one arm to keep her on his hip and and his other to hold my hand.
We swung our hands now, on our way down the path towards the playground, Ellie hugging onto George and rubbing her forehead against him to stop the dizziness.
By the time we arrived, there was a gaggle of mothers sitting on one of the benches, each with a travel flask of very white coffee or tea. I groaned, taking the other bench as George set Ellie down and fiddled with her jacket, kneeling on the floor in front of her.
“Ok, be careful in there. And if any of those kids are mean, then try to stay away from them, yeah?” he smiled, rubbing his own wolly gloved hands over her shoulders and she fell on him. It was in an effort to hug him more and incredibly endearing to watch.
“I will, Gogy,” she said, jumping a bit in anticipation with her hands still around his neck.
“Ok,” and she started to detach from him, running off into the playground to find her friends. “Don’t lose your hat!” he called after her and she slapped her hands over it in acknowledgement.
George sighed as he sat down next me, who was grinning proudly to myself. I looped my arm over his shoulders and pulled him close to me as he attached his hand to my cold one at the end of it.
“Why do you insist on not wearing gloves. You are freezing ,” he exclaimed, bringing a pink hand to his mouth to lay a kiss on it. I audibly smiled, burying my face into the crook of his neck.
“I don’t like the feeling. They’re restricting,” I murmured and he laughed, not looking at me and focusing on watching Ellie.
“You find a lot of things restricting ,” he giggled. I am not ashamed of how quickly I got it and prompt gave him a light, exaggerated smack on the arm, frowning.
“Naughty. There are children,” I told him in a low voice. “But just so you know. I will gladly mount you like a fucking horse later, if you’re up to it.” I was basically shrugging but still tucked up in his neck. He flushed a deep crimson.
“It’s not hot when you call me a horse,” George quipped, letting out a breathy laugh. “But no, I am not opposed,” quietly. “Watch out, that bitch Cherise is coming this way.”
I untucked my face to get a look at the curly-haired woman in fitness leggings and flourescent pink t-shirt saunter over with a frown. I groaned again and replaced my face in George’s neck.
“It’s always “George, join my Facebook group”, “George, do you want to bake cookies with me one day?”, “Hey, George, are you the real father because your daughter looks nothing like you?!”” he grumped, folding his arms and leaning against me. “If Regina George was a mum and British, it would be Cherise. And she’s a whore-”
“Ok, ok, calm down. She’s getting closer so cut down on the Cherise slander,” I hissed, though I tightened my grip protectively on him, just for the reason that he didn’t like her.
“Hi, Cherise,” he said happily, fakely, waving. “I don’t even have Facebook.” I snorted into him.
She placed her hands on her hips in front of us, expression looking like she was sucking on a lemon. No, a lime. With vinegar.
“Hi, George,” she said cooly, then turning her gaze to me. “Clay.” Yikes.
“Hello, Cherise. What can we do for you?” I said dryly, George snickering now. I squeezed his thigh to silence him. Cherise flinched as if I’d shot a gun.
“Well, the girls and I,” she gestured to them and we tossed a bored glance in that direction, only to see all of the women making gestures that they were not included in whatever Cherise was about to say. “We think it would be a bit more appropriate - for the kids - if you could sit a little further apart.”
George and I exchanged glances and then narrowed our eyes at Cherise. “Excuse me?”
“I just mean- you’re a bit too… handsy,” she said, both of George and my expressions dropping into a bit more seriousness, wondering if we were. I didn’t think so, I just had my arm over his shoulders and he kissed my hand. “We just think you two, as guys, doing that might be a bit… negatively influential for them.” She certainly rushed the rest of it out.
“ Oh .”
I only tightened my grip on George. I think we both had the same realisation at the same time and I saw the same type of hurt settle in his eyes as I felt. It wasn’t something that bothered either of us all that much now, but the initial recognition of what exactly was being told to your face was disheartening.
“I mean, I think it’s fine to do that kind of thing in private, away from impressionable children, you know? You understand my point of view, right?” she said, right as I came back to the conversation.
I cleared my throat. “Oh, yeah, sure. I completely understand,” I said sarcastically, keeping my eyes on her as I slowly, deliberately took George’s jaw into one of my hands, the other still of his shoulders and kissed him slowly on the lips and he smirked when I pulled away. “That’s how much I understand.”
“That was pornographic,” she said with disgust. “And so disrespectful of what I just told you.” I scoffed at that.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Wouldn’t want you to feel disrespected ,” George replied, voice thick with more sarcasm than mine.
“Let me ask you a question,” I said, frowning a little. “Would you let your children watch Snow White?”
“Yes.”
George smirked again. He knew what was coming.
“So you would let them watch a thirty-one-year-old kiss a fourteen-year-old without worrying your kids will turn into paedophiles but if real-life men who are in love kiss, then you’re afraid your children, who are not even looking at us, will turn out gay because of it?” I said, mocking confused and with a hard expression. George stifled a giggle at her face of shock.
“And the most we did before you approached us was kiss hands. No one is going to be gay because of that and you’re shit mother if you think it’s a bad thing if they are,” I finished, and I would have a satisfied smirk, but honestly, I was offended. And I thought I had a right to be.
Growing up in the nineties and early two-thousands around that kind of stuff was difficult and the kind of things that were said behind our backs or to our faces both before we knew each other and after we got together used to hurt a lot more. We’d gotten used to the less frequent but still prevalent remarks but sometimes it really just hits you with a wrench. You think it’s all wrapped up nicely in your childhood, tied with a bow, but then it follows you still and in different ways; different reasons people give to excuse their blatant homophobia.
It made the prospect of Ellie starting school and being possibly subjected to it because of us more worrying.
Cherise made a sort of scoff before backing away, clearly uncomfortable and looking for an exit to this conversation. I made shooing eyes at her until she scurried away, one of my arms still clutching George’s shoulders.
“Sh, sh, sh, it’s all ok. Just breathe,” George shushed from where he was sitting, but now leaning over me as he hugged me. I think he could tell this had oddly gotten to me, maybe because of the involvement of children, and was slowly dragging his fingertips soothingly up and down my sides with his cheek pressed against my chest.
“I am breathing, I’m just pissed off. Why are people like this? I’m so sick and tired of it-”
“I said quiet,” George said calmly but it commanded me into silence. “I love you. Let’s just calm down because it is wasted energy… And I don’t want you to accidentally scare Ellie when she comes over.” That definitely cleared my mind. Even if I didn’t shout or anything, toddlers could feel the vibes of people pretty well, in my experience.
I relaxed against the bench, sighing as George continued to hold me and I held him back also. I didn’t cry, he didn’t cry, we just dealt with being reminded of others’ distaste for us. It had certainly ruptured our usual Sunday of living our lives into this. Again.
Obviously, we knew it wasn’t as bad for us as it had been for others in the past and now in other countries. We didn’t really have much to complain about, given that we were both white men who’d had the privilege of having a child and getting married when there were people being executed for wanting the same thing elsewhere.
But it still hurt.
“She really thought that kiss was pornographic? She has… no idea. Maybe we should invite her husband Jerry for a threesome so he can tell her a better idea of ‘pornographic’,” George giggled softly into me, drawing a sputtered laugh from me.
“As tempting as it sounds, I would rather not be a homewrecker or have Jerry’s hands anywhere near you,” I grinned, kissing George’s forehead with sickening care.
“I told you, she’s a whore . She’s already cheating on Jerry. I’m telling you, only a percentage of their kids are his,” George stated and I burst out laughing.
“I wanna know why you’re so in love with Jerry,” I mumbled through a smirk that made George frown and swat at me. “Jerry stays out of the bed.”
“Poor Jerry. I guess I have you all to myself,” George hummed, pecking my lips before digging himself right back where he was.
“When I mount you like a George,” I clarified lowly, smirk only growing with George’s disapproving shake of his head.
“You can say cum dumpster. Don’t be shy, Dreamie,” George cooed, wiggling his eyebrows at me. “Just not a horse . That’s so not sexy.”
“Can you quieten your voice ? There are children,” I warned, only making George giggle into me more.
“I wasn’t being that loud. Plus, I’m sure you’ll get your chance to shut me up later, big boy,” George teased. If we hadn’t been there for an insufficient playtime for Ellie, then I would’ve considered simply whisking them both back home and locking our bedroom door, distracting our daughter with a book and saying we needed time to talk in private. Instead of waiting until her nap or the evening.
Alas, I was not that bold, or I just put Ellie before anything else, including the fact that would also be a good excuse to escape the glare we were not so subtly from Cherise and stares from the others.
Though it was kind of funny how much more ‘handsy’ we were being right now compared to before but I didn’t think she’d come over again.
“You’re the best,” I settled on, resting my chin in George’s hair with a smile and I vibrated slightly with George’s laugh that followed.
“I know,” he said. I rolled my eyes.