Work Text:
Giggles echoed around the room, and Mycroft hid a grin behind his novel. He lounged in an armchair, left leg crossed over his right, supervising his charges from afar as they played on the living room carpet. Jawn was older today, a cheeky toddler out to cause any kind of trouble he could seek, and Lock was his unfortunate subject. The two year old had Lock’s shirt rucked up to expose his tummy, his lips leaving wet traces along the pale skin as he blew obnoxiously loud raspberries.
The little detective could not do much to prevent the accost, drawing up his knees and pushing at Jawn’s head. His face was beet red and he struggled to take a decent breath through his laughs. When it became obvious that Jawn would go until he passed out, Mycroft lightly warned him to take a break.
A break from raspberries, sure, but the little doctor wasn’t done with his brother yet. The shirt was pulled up higher until it briefly covered Lock’s head, vision blocked by white cotton. Just as quickly, it was ripped away to reveal Jawn’s face centimetres from his own.
“Peekaboo!” He chirped, snorting at Lock’s startled reaction. Mycroft was left in surprise that the babe did not cry out in fear, instead arching his back and gurgling for more.
“Where’s Locky gone?” Jawn sang, smirking as tiny giggles emanated from beneath the shirt. Daddy played this game with them all the time. “Is he here? No. What about here?”
Lock wriggled in anticipation, and Jawn obliged. “There he is!”
The game restarted, but this time Mycroft’s help was enlisted. “Papa!”
Holmes pretended to look up from his novel, as if he’d been concentrating on it in the first place. “Yes love?”
Jawn raised his palms to the ceiling, elbows bent. “I can’t find Locky anywhere!”
“Hm, have you tried under the couch?” He suggested.
“Yep!” He hadn’t, but Lock, blinded as he was, would be none the wiser.
“He seems to have disappeared!” Mycroft gasped, watching long legs kick out on the carpeted floor. Jawn stayed away from the crossfire, crawling up to Lock’s head to poke at his tummy.
“I think I can hear him!” He whispered, ducking down so his ear was pressed close to a sharp cheekbone. Lock breathed, a hint of an excited squeal pushing through. “Peekaboo!”
“Oh, there he is! Where did Lock go, huh?” Lock tilted his head to stare at the man, who pulled several silly faces to coax out another adorable giggle.
There was commotion at the front door, Jawn’s head snapping up to stare at the entryway, but he was obedient enough not to run off unattended. Lock brought a hand up to chew on, eyes on his older brother as he waited for their game to continue. Instead, Jawn nuzzled at his face, rubbing his scent on his skin like a cat when Greg entered the room.
“Daddy!” Jawn jumped to his feet, charging at his father full-pelt to dive into his arms. Greg released an ‘oof’ and stumbled as he caught the boy. He was hiked up further so he could rest upon the man’s hip, wrapping his arms around his neck in a tight embrace.
“Woah there, hello! That’s quite the greeting to come home to!” Greg patted his bum and kissed his hair, stepping further into the room.
Jawn giggled sheepishly and then wriggled out of the hold to return to Lock’s side, where he proceeded to flop onto his tummy. The daddies winced, but a further nuzzling session took place and prevented the baby from having a chance to cry.
Greg watched as Jawn smothered his younger brother with his body. “What are they doing?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Mycroft shrugged, lips curled in amusement. “they’ve been at it for half an hour though.”
Greg laughed with a fond shake of his head and approached his boyfriend to kiss him. “I shouldn’t be surprised really.”
Mycroft hummed against his mouth, pinning him in place with a hand to the back of his head. “They are ours, bear in mind.”
“Is Lock tiny?” Greg twisted so that he was perched on Mycroft’s lap – a tight squeeze in the one seated armchair, but they made it work. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg’s middle and rested his head on his shoulder.
“Yes, has been for a couple of hours now.” Mycroft replied.
Greg’s brows bunched. “They haven’t given you any grief, have they?”
“No, actually. They’ve been playing there the entire time. It’s been nice.” The man smiled, catching Greg’s sneaky side glance his way.
Lestrade blushed upon being caught red handed, and turned away. “Well I’m glad. I’ll take nappy duties.”
“What a star. I’ll go pop the oven on.” Mycroft shoved his partner off and stood with an undignified stretch.
In the time it took for Greg to collect supplies from the changing table and return to the living room, Jawn had managed to strip himself stark naked, and had begun tugging at the tapes on Lock’s nappy, who watched on with glinting eyes.
“Oh no!” Greg gawked. “There’s a naked Jawn on the loose!”
Jawn cackled, falling over his brother as he freed him from his padded prison. “Locky willy!”
“Oi, what have we told you about messing with your nappies? You little monkey! Careful he doesn’t wee on you!”
“Locky wee on me?” The laughter stopped and Greg was regarded with a serious little boy.
“He’s weed on Jahn before.” Lestrade argued. His son backed away slowly, as if Lock was a tetchy wild animal. Greg snorted, yanking the boy up to fling over his shoulder. “We can’t leave you for two bloody seconds, can we? No we sodding can’t!”
Jawn squealed, legs kicking fruitlessly, but the arm around his thighs kept him stuck. Greg lightly smacked his bum to listen to the indignant shrieks it produced as Jawn laughed hysterically. They span around a couple of times, and when Jawn settled, he was set on his back beside his brother, a fresh nappy taped on firm and rapidly, jeans pulled up so he couldn’t make a second escape attempt. Next was Lock, who was the most docile Greg had ever witnessed, watching in slight disinterest. A tickle or two got a smile out of him in no time at all.
Lestrade swaddled him up in a thin blanket, playtime was over, the baby was in need of a rest before he burst a lung. Slung over daddy’s lap, he leaned his head on the warm chest and made it his mission to produce as much drool as humanly possible. Jawn knelt at their feet to watch. He was utterly infatuated. A fingertip ran along the bone structure that created the baby’s face, gently gliding along his eyebrows, down his nose, pressing against his spittle-soaked lips.
“Be gentle darling.” Daddy reminded when Jawn’s carding indented Lock’s skin.
He was paid little mind, Jawn leaning in to sniff the babe’s hair. “He so tiny.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Greg rocked them in minuscule movements, absently patting a rhythm on Lock’s bum.
Jawn nodded, kissing the fingers that peeked from the top of the blanket. He was smitten, eyes wide and glittering. “Tiny cute baby. Cutest baby ever.”
Bar you. Greg thought. Daddy kissed the foreheads of both of his sons, an urge he could not dampen. He watched, bemused, when Jawn suddenly stood and stared at him expectantly. “What?”
“I hold please?” Jawn flashed hopeful puppy eyes, and Greg melted into putty. How could he say no to a face like that?
It wasn’t exactly necessary considering Jawn maintained the strength of a grown man, but Greg took the precaution of a first time parent and propped cushions beneath his elbows and Lock’s head. No amount of shifting would displace them, and it kept a fair amount of Holmes’ weight off his toddler brother.
“So precious.” Jawn whispered into Lock’s ear, nosing at his curls. Lock blinked up at him with a toothy grin, the blanket rippling as he sought to free a hand, no doubt to tug at his brother’s ear. “My baba.”
Lestrade would never risk leaving them by themselves, not even for a minute, as he wondered where his partner had gone off to. Mycroft was only meant to turn the oven on, but he’d probably already starting cooking, if Greg had to predict. As if summoned, Mycroft stepped back into the room, hushed socks against plush carpet muffling his presence until he appeared at Lestrade’s side.
“Jesus fu- don’t do that!”
“Apologies, Gregory. I made a bottle for the baby.” He held up the milk innocently, but Greg could see the deviance in his face a mile off.
Greg opened his mouth to retort when a high pitched demand interrupted him. “I do it!”
“Carefully now, don’t squeeze the bottle.” Jawn followed the orders, rubbing the teat against Lock’s lips until he parted them and accepted the drink.
They fell into a trance, the world blurring around them. Lock matched Jawn’s loving gaze, scarcely blinking lest he miss a single second of his charming brother. Enthralled was an understatement to the emotion laid bare, the boys so caught up in each other they didn’t seem to notice their fathers watching, enamoured. Even the muslin cloth dabbed across milky skin was done so with such care and adoration. Jawn Watson was in love.