Work Text:
Trent knocked on the Matthews’ back door and waited until his presence was acknowledged before entering the house. It was barely 6am but the earlier they got started on the construction project the better. Spring was only three days old but that hadn’t stopped the heat from making an early appearance.
He checked to make sure he had everything he’d need – his work gloves, hammer, tape measure, square, marking pencil and nail bag. The last time he’d used any of this stuff was when they’d helped Blaine’s grandfather build a new barn for storing hay. That had been shortly after he and Blaine had gotten together and, to be honest, they had spent more time sneaking off and making out than actually working.
Today they were starting on the addition to the house Sean had designed for Dan to live in. There would be a bedroom, bathroom, and exercise/office, basically a separate living quarter for Sean’s ---
He scratched his head. What was he supposed to call the man? Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Significant other? They were too old to be calling each other boyfriend, and lover made it sound dirty. Partner or significant other were better but where did that leave Mrs. A?
He twisted up his face in frustration. Oh hell, just call him Dan and leave it at that.
Leaving his supplies and his confusion over his boyfriend’s new family dynamics in the utility room, he entered the kitchen and discovered a barely awake Angel sitting at the table coaxing her baby sister to eat her breakfast.
“Hey, cutesy patootie.” A sticky oatmeal kiss was bestowed upon him after he’d hugged and tickled his best girl. “Love what you've done with your hair.” Scattered across the toddler’s head were tufts of hair secured with mismatched barrettes of different colors.
Angel yawned while plopping another spoonful of oatmeal into her sister’s open mouth. “What you see was her choice. I think she’s trying to make a fashion statement.”
Trent eyed the toddler’s outfit and grinned. Elizabeth Anne or Lizzie as she was now called, wore a yellow polka-dot top featuring the face of Winnie the Pooh and bright pink striped bottoms. The only saving grace of her entire outfit were the mini LSU tennis shoes she had on her feet – his gift to her on her one year birthday.
“She’s definitely making a statement of some sort.” He looked around the kitchen. “Where’s your mom?”
It was a little weird not seeing Blaine’s mother bustling around the kitchen. Usually by this time in the morning Mrs. A had breakfast cooking and clothes washing. Not to mention, the kitchen table would be covered with a week’s worth of newspaper advertisements. Mrs. A was a master coupon clipper and went shopping every Saturday morning armed with any coupon that would save money for her growing family.
Stealing another kiss from his girl, he glanced up at Angel and was stunned to see tears flowing down her pale cheeks. He immediately felt the fist of dread squeezing his heart.
“Angel?”
Blaine’s sister hid her face in her hands. “Mom’s not here. She . . .” Angel lifted her head and pressed her lips to Lizzie’s pudgy cheek. “Mom’s gone to Lafayette.”
Trent frowned in confusion. Mrs. A’s parents lived in Lafayette and a trip home wasn't exactly a cause for tears. “What’s wrong? There’s something here I’m not seeing.”
Angel stood and walked toward the sink, collecting a clean dishcloth from a drawer and wetting it. She returned and began wiping Lizzie’s face. After another minute of silence, she looked up at him and cautioned, “Blaine doesn't know this; so promise me you won’t say a word to him.”
He made the cross the heart motion and raised his right hand. “I promise.”
Angel lifted her sister out of the high chair and handed her to him. He cuddled her close and nuzzled her neck. He loved Lizzie to the max and thoroughly enjoyed every minute he spent with her.
“What’s going on, Angel? Is your mom sick?” He watched Blaine’s sister deposit the dirty dish and spoon, along with the dishcloth, in the sink.
“Mom’s been diagnosed with PPD, postpartum depression.” Angel turned around and leaned back against the sink. “As you probably know, Mom had a really hard time with Richard’s death.”
Lizzie let out a cry and Trent immediately relaxed the tight hold he had on the toddler. He still felt horribly guilty about his part in the night of her birth and consequently the death of her twin brother. He could never apologize enough to make up for shutting off Blaine’s cellphone on that fateful night.
“I know she was depressed for a while there but I thought things had gotten better.” He handed over Lizzie when Angel held out her hands.
“Actually, the depression got worse; she just managed to hide it better.” Angel lifted her sister in the air and raspberried her tummy. At the sound of Lizzie’s laughter a small smile appeared on her face but disappeared when her gaze fell on the chair her mother usually occupied at the kitchen table. “It wasn't until she began leaving Suzanne and Lizzie at home unattended that Dad realized something was seriously wrong. The clincher was the afternoon Mom left Lizzie sitting in a tub of water and wandered out in the yard. If Uncle Dan hadn't showed up and found this little one . . .”
Trent snatched Lizzie from Blaine’s sister and hugged her until the fear that seized his breath had abated.
“Jesus Christ, Angel. I didn't know. Your dad, how’s he handling it?”
Angel looked toward the hallway that led to the family’s bedrooms. “Not well. And to be honest, I’m kinda glad Uncle Dan is here. Mom’s been refusing to have anything to do with Dad, in fact that’s why she went to Lafayette.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the hallway. A sleep tousled Blaine was standing in the doorway of his bedroom.
“Is your mom coming back?” He reluctantly relinquished Lizzie to Angel once he saw his boyfriend was headed in their direction.
“According to Grandma, Mom’s in therapy and will stay with them until she’s finished. They’re thinking it’ll be about a month or so.”
He offered Angel a sympathetic smile and a touch to her arm before slipping into Blaine’s welcoming embrace.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” He shared a passionate kiss with his boyfriend, and if his hug was a little bit tighter than usual, well, just blame it on not seeing him in over a month.
“Ready to sweat, Budman?”
“Ready to lick the sweat off me when we’re finished?”
Trent laughed, his humor somewhat restored. “Oh I’ll be doing a lot more than licking, Budman. On that you can be sure.”
+++++++
“Yeah, but if we move the window to the other wall, we’ll have a view of the backyard while working out.”
Trent passed his empty glass to Suzanne. “Thanks for the water.” He frowned at her retreating form and wondered for the millionth time if it had been her or her sister that had seen his secret stash of sex toys. So far nothing had come from their visit to his bedroom to hide the Valentine love notes Blaine had written for him. He wasn't stupid and knew sooner or later he and Blaine would be forced to pay for silencing the wagging tongues of the Sisters Two.
Sighing, he turned to where Sean and Dan were still arguing over the placement of that damn window. He smiled when he saw Dan slip a hand inside one of Sean’s rear jean pockets. His grin widened at the yelp Sean let out in response to Dan’s obvious groping of his ass. A sloppy, laughing kiss followed and presto, the problem of the window was solved.
Chuckling, he finished with the pile of 4x4 boards he was in charge of sawing to the appropriate length. Throwing his gloves on the ground, he wiped the sweat from his face before looking around for his missing assistant. He found Blaine exiting the house with Lizzie carefully balanced on his shoulders. Laughter bubbled up at the sight of the toddler kicking her legs and pulling enthusiastically on her brother’s hair with one hand while babbling nonsense to the Tinker Bell doll she held in her other hand. An image came to mind and he couldn't help but laugh out loud -- the fair Lady Lizzie riding her loyal steed.
“Angel and Suze have gone to the store for snacks,” Blaine explained, his handsome features drawn in confusion at the laughter that greeted his arrival. “We've got babysitting duty until they get . . . Ow! Not the ears, Lizzie!”
Still laughing, Trent wrestled for ownership of his boyfriend’s ears and was rewarded with a bap to the head by none other than Ms. Tinker Bell herself. Before he could retaliate with a tickle or a tummy zerbert, his best girl was stolen away by her father.
“Da!”
Strong, familiar arms stole around his waist while he watched Sean and Dan play with Lizzie. A feel-good warmth invaded his heart, and he sighed with contentment when Blaine began to nuzzle the area behind his left ear.
“You ever think about having kids? About us having kids?”
He answered without thinking. “Yeah. I want kids.”
It wasn't exactly a secret, and he wasn't even sure his boyfriend knew how envious he was of his large family. Growing up an only child hadn't been a lot of fun, especially the last five years when it was just him and his dad. In fact, it was the main reason he spent more time at the Matthews’ home than his own. He hated being alone in his own home, especially since his mother’s death.
One of Blaine’s hand dropped to his crotch and began gently rubbing him through his jeans. “I’d like our first to be yours,” his boyfriend whispered.
Images of what that could entail slammed into his brain and he shuddered. Threading his fingers through those mapping the shape of his dick he pulled Blaine’s hand away from his crotch. “Uh, sounds good but not for a while, right? Kinda want to wait ‘til we finish college, get jobs, find a house. You know, grown-up stuff when we’re actually grown-ups?”
“Silly.” Blaine nipped his ear. “Of course, later. Just checking to see if we were on the same wavelength. Come on, the girls are back. Let’s go see what they got.”
Instead of following his boyfriend, he turned his attention back to Sean and Dan. The two men were now at the girls’ old swing set. Dan held Lizzie and her doll in his lap while Sean pushed them on the swing. All three were laughing.
Allowing his eyes to lose focus, he pretended he was watching himself and Blaine with their youngest daughter, Tracy, who would be named after his own mother. Tracy, of course, would be the spitting image of her famous father, Blaine ‘Smoking Fast’ Matthews, the newest inductee to the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Shouts of sibling rivalry came from behind him and his imagination transformed those voices into the voices of his and Blaine’s older children. A smile escaped as he imagined their son and daughter, twin tornadoes of pre-teen anarchy named Richard and Allanah. And since those two would come from him, his husband, no doubt, would always be blaming him for every incident of rebellion that took them to the school principal’s office.
“Budman, you have no idea the grief we’re going to suffer if you use my little swimmers.”
Shaking his head at the direction of his fanciful thoughts, he decided it was time for his little swimmers to see some action. “Blaine! Wait up,” he yelled. “Isn't it time for lunch?” He checked his pocket for the tube of lubricant he never left home without and took off running after the future father of his children.
+++++++
“Boys! Sean! The girls are just inside the house. Keep it in your pants, please!”
Trent abruptly ended their suck face marathon and looked over Blaine’s shoulder, stunned to find his boyfriend’s grandmother standing over them with a disappointed frown on her face.
“Budman, don’t look now but we've been caught with our hands in the cookie jar.” The set of misbehaving hands cupping his ass slid away, and he grinned when he heard Blaine’s frustrated groan. It was noon and the decision had been to break for lunch. The two of them had eagerly agreed making out was more important than filling their empty bellies. And from the look of things, they weren't the only ones with that specific thought on their mind. He glanced at the newly framed room and saw Sean and Dan standing near the space designated for the window of contention. Both men were hastily straightening their clothes.
Blaine protested the interruption. “Nana, there’s only two days left of Spring Break. I gotta make the most of my time with Trent.”
He watched his boyfriend graciously surrender to the hug and kiss his grandmother was determined to bestow upon him. Once Nana Matthews was finished with Blaine, she turned her attention on him and he gave in a little bit more quickly than his boyfriend had. The loss of his treasured Granny was still a fresh wound on his heart, and he was more than happy to be smothered by Nana Matthews’ hug.
“Trent, do you think you could explain to my grandson AND my son,” Barbara Matthews turned at glared at her oldest child, “how certain activities should be kept behind closed doors.”
“Uh, gentlemen?” he yelled at Sean and Dan. “We've been busted!”
A grandmotherly slap to the back of his head acknowledged his cheekiness, and he couldn't help but grin at Nana Matthews. He turned to see what his boyfriend thought of his clever admonishment and discovered Blaine pulling bags filled with food from Popeye’s from the back seat of his grandmother’s car. Catching a whiff of the freshly fried chicken, he moved to follow his boyfriend into the house but stopped when what sounded like a sob came from where Sean and Dan were standing with Nana Matthews.
He frowned with concern when Sean basically fell into his mother’s open arms and clung to her as if he’d collapse without her strength to hold him up. It didn't surprise him at all when Dan added himself to the hug the second Nana Matthews reached out an arm to him. The three of them stood caught up in a group embrace for several minutes, and his frown morphed into a small smile when he saw how Nana Matthews comforted both men by running her hands up and down their backs.
“I have a feeling they’re talking about Mom.”
Caught by surprise at Angel’s silent approach, he stumbled sideways and nearly tripped over his and Blaine’s discarded nail bags lying on the ground. “Scare the crap out of me, why don’t’cha?”
Angel ignored him. “Dad tried calling Mom last night, and she refused to speak with him, slammed the phone down on him to be exact. He didn't take it very well; locked himself in their room and stayed there all night.” She took a deep breath and whispered a shaky confession, “Trent, I swear I've never seen him like that. It scared me so much, I called Nana and told her what’s going on.”
“When are you going tell Blaine?” It went without saying his boyfriend loved his mother more than his dad. And even though Sean was the parent who truly understood their relationship, it was Mrs. A who had listened to Blaine’s concerns over the years and had dried his tears when times got rough. It was not going to bode well for the members of his family if they continued to keep him in the dark about his mother.
“Dad plans to talk to him tonight or tomorrow. You might want to be available for that conversation,” Angel advised.
“I’ll be there. You can count on that.”
A scream from the house derailed their conversation and the two of them watched Blaine chase Suzanne down the driveway. The younger girl appeared to have something in her hand that his boyfriend desperately wanted to reclaim. The two of them circled around the house, passing him and Angel on their way back inside. He doubled over with laughter once he recognized what Suzanne had in her possession.
Blaine’s leopard print thong.
He dug out his phone and followed after them. This was something he had to get on record.
+++++++
“What are you doing?”
Trent took a swipe at his dripping wet hair. He’d just finished showering and was looking forward to some major downtime between the sheets with his sexy boyfriend. Blaine was spending the night with him at his house and if he had his way, there would be absolutely no sleeping.
“What’s it look like I’m doing?”
He stared at his bed, at the open duffle bag and the clothes beside it. “Well, it’s obvious you’re packing but why? You’re not leaving until tomorrow evening.”
“I’m going to Lafayette. To see my mom.”
Trent dropped the towel he’d been using to dry his hair. “You can’t go.”
“And just why the hell not?” Blaine angrily shoved a pair of jeans in the duffle bag.
He snatched his boyfriend’s jeans out of the bag and threw them back on the bed. “You heard what your dad said. Your mom left so that she could have some time to herself. That means alone, Budman.”
His Physics book, which up until then had been collecting dust on his nightstand, flew across the room and smacked into the wall.
“Damn it, Trent. Why did Mom leave?” Blaine turned away and stood staring at the floor, clenching and unclenching his hands. “She should have stay here with us. We can help her more than some fucking therapist.”
He walked up behind Blaine, circled his waist, and pulled him tight against his own chest. “I don’t have the answers you need. Hell, I can’t even begin to understand what this thing is your mom is suffering with.” He planted his chin on Blaine’s shoulder and looked down, catching his boyfriend’s fisted hands and forcing them to relax and join with his. “It makes no sense to me but if taking some time off will help Mrs. A, then no, you can’t go to Lafayette. Let her have the time she needs, Budman. The sooner she’s feeling better, the sooner she’ll be back home with the fam.”
Blaine twisted around and they tumbled onto the bed. It took a few moments before they were comfortably situated, himself propped against the headboard with Blaine tucked tight against his lower body and using his lap as his own personal pillow. He threaded his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair for several minutes before skimming his fingertips over the naked expanse of Blaine’s broad shoulders.
“Can we . . . can we just stay like this for a while?” Blaine quietly asked. “No fucking, just . . . this.”
Leaning forward, Trent softly kissed first Blaine’s head, then his cheek and finally the once injured shoulder.
“Cuddle, sleep, we can do anything you want. I’m here for you, Budman.”
He welcomed the arms tightening their grip on his body with a gentle squeeze before resting his head back and offering up a little prayer.
“Be well, Mrs. A. And . . . come home soon.”
To be continued . . . .