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Miller having kids freaked him out. It did. He loved the idea as much as it scared him. Which was why, when he stared at the paper work, laid out across the coffee table of the house Monty and he bought (oh Lord, they’re home owners), he was ready to run. Monty had gone out the day before, dragging his suitcase out of the door before kissing Miller, smiling. He instructed that the paperwork must be signed and completed by the time he got back – Monty had done all of his already. So, Miller was afraid for two reasons: one, kids. And two, Monty was always up for sex after long journies, to help him slip back into normality again – and if the paperwork wasn’t done, Miller wouldn’t get to help him with that.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes glazing over at line after line of legal gibberish. “This isn’t happening.” He dumped the paper back on the coffee table before pacing the room. He wanted kids, he was sure of it. He knew that he was going to be a great dad when the time came – everyone had seen him with his little sister and his sort-of-nephew-sort-of-son Nate. He could handle kids.
He just couldn’t handle the responsibility of having a kid. It would officially signify him being an adult. Miller wasn’t ready to be an adult.
With that in mind, he pulled out his phone, staring at the contacts.
Bell. My house. I need to do something stupid.
He clicked send and sighed, heading for the kitchen. Once there, he pulled out a can of beer and popped the top, immediately downing half of it. He missed being a kid. He missed being a reckless teenager, playing poker and drinking too much, and not understanding his limits. He didn’t like the responsibility of an actual job, and people asking him what they were supposed to be doing at work, when he wasn’t even sure himself.
Bellamy didn’t text back. Instead, he turned up at the door, exactly thirteen minutes later with a six pack.
“Clarke wanted me out of the house,” he said when Miller unlocked the door. He smiled at his best friend and Bellamy made his way through he house. Miller had only been living there about five months, but Bellamy and Clarke were around more often than not, and their houses were second homes for each other, considering they lived right next door. (They joked far too seriously about having a hallway connecting the two houses.)
Miller landed on the sofa next to him, just as Bellamy leaned forward, raising an eyebrow at the documents.
“Actually going for it?” He asked. Miller nodded. “How many fucking contracts?” He snorted with a smile.
“Too many.” Bellamy dumped the six pack by their feet, leaving through the pages.
“Monty’s signed loads of these,” he said as he went through them. Miller nodded.
“I just need to sign there rest.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Because there are billions and I don’t understand any of it.” He sighed, leaning back into the sofa cushions as Bellamy sat back with him. They stayed in silence for a moment, before Bellamy opened the beers and handed one to Miller, who’d just finished his first.
“Do you ever wish you had a womb?” Bellamy asked. Miller shrugged, a raised eyebrow and half a smirk.
“Do you ever ask normal questions?” Bellamy shook his head.
“No, but if you had a womb then you wouldn’t have to do any of this,” he continued.
“I’d have to push a baby out of a tiny hole, though,” Miller countered. Bellamy nodded.
“I’ll agree that’s disgusting – I’ve seen it, but it would be easier than filling out contracts.” Miller laughed.
“I doubt it – being pregnant sounds difficult. You seem to forget that I was around a lot over the past year.” Bellamy nodded in surrender.
“Yes, you were. But I didn’t have to fill out a single form.” Miller rolled his eyes as his best friend grinned at him. They drank their cans down before looking back to the paperwork. “You wanted to do something stupid, right?” Bellamy asked. Miller nodded.
“This is making me feel too much like an adult.” Bellamy stood, then, picking up the remainder of the six pack and gesturing for Miller to follow him.
It was just past seven at night, early in the year, the sky darkening and becoming a dingy grey. They went out to the back garden; simple and longer than it was wide, with a patio by the house and grass going down to meet the woods their house backed on to. Miller followed Bellamy down to the trees at the end of the garden; the path way through the woods that could be seen from the border, before turning back to look at the house.
He thought fleetingly, again, that he was a home owner, before glancing at the lights in the house next door. He could see Clarke clearly in the window of the kitchen, clutching her son to her body and moving around gently – probably to get him to sleep. Miller glanced back to Bellamy, whose eyes were going in the same direction as his were previously, a faint smile playing along his lips. Miller nudged him then, and Bellamy snapped out of his phase.
“Something stupid,” Bellamy agreed. He passed the beers to Miller, and started climbing the tree. It was a pretty big one; sturdy, that meshed with another on the other side of the fence, in Bellamy’s garden, and Miller watched as he moved through the branches. He remembered buying the house; looking at the garden and the trees, with Monty one side of him and Bellamy and Clarke on the other. Clarke had grinned. “We could make a massive tree fort,” she told them. Monty’s face had lit up, and just seeing his smile had made Miller agree to buying the place.
Now, he watched as Bellamy sat on a branch, before nodding and following him up. Half way along, he passed the beers up, and then continuing to climb until they were rested in the trees.
“We’re too old to be doing this,” Miller sighed. Bellamy laughed.
“We’re twenty five, not fifty,” he replied with a grin. “Marriage is making you feel old.”
“It’s the responsibility thing,” he replied indifferently. He knew that Bellamy understood where he was coming from – Miller hated responsibility. He hated taking the blame, and feeling as if he were supposed to be a form of authority. Getting married – no matter how excited and happy it made him, was also pretty scary. Usually, he was fine to smile along, and be okay until he could talk to Monty about it. But Monty kept going out of town for work conventions, and he was slowly starting to freak out on his own.
But Bellamy understood. Because he’d gotten married when he was about to turn twenty three; just over a year after he and Clarke became ‘official’, and had a baby within the year after that. Bellamy was revelling in the responsibility thing – he had been doing it since he was a kid, with his sister. Miller sort of wished he could be Bellamy; learn the tricks of the trade and then be himself again. But he sighed instead.
“It’s really great,” Bellamy said quietly, popping a can open and passing it over to Miller. He thanked him with a nod of his head, taking a swig.
“What is?” He asked, although he already knew the answer.
“Being a parent,” Bellamy replied. “Yeah, there’s the fear of messing up this kid’s life – but you get to mess it up in your own way. And I’ve never seen Clarke as happy as she is when she’s with him.” Miller smiled absently, listening as Bellamy opened another can, and the wind rustled the leaves of the tree around him. “You do want a kid, right?” He asked. Miller nodded.
“Yeah. I do. What if I drop it or something?” Miller sighed, looking to Bellamy. His friend just grinned though.
“Did it. He seems fine.”
“Yeah, but Nate has got a thick skull like you,” Miller replied, rolling his eyes. “What if I adopt the kid with the world’s thinnest skull?” Bellamy rolled his eyes in the darkness.
“Then you try not to drop him, and buy him gifts if you do. Mill, this isn’t rocket science – it’s a baby. They’re cute, and they throw up on the one they like more – which means it’s Monty and Clarke taking the brunt of it.”
The two of them laughed, and Miller looked over his shoulder, to the kitchen window of his friends’ house; bathed in yellow light. Clarke was still standing there, though she glanced out the window, aware of them in the trees. She held Nate in her arms, her mouth moving as if she was speaking or singing to him. She still drifted gently around the room, the toddler’s head lulling on her shoulder.
“Miller,” Bellamy said, making him tear his eyes from Clarke in the window, to his friend in the tree, eyeing him with a serious gaze for a moment. “You’re gonna be really good at it, okay? You’re already the best babysitter in the world, and you looked after Nate when we went away for three days. You’ve got this.” Miller nodded with a sigh, resting his head back against the wood of the tree. He’s got this.
“Is it too late to make those cake children?” Miller asked with a smile. Bellamy laughed into the evening.
“What, little Billke and… god, what was it?” Bellamy clicked his fingers trying to remember the name.
“Millarkamy,” Miller replied with a smile. Bellamy grinned at him, the clicking stopped.
“Yes, Billke and Millarkamy! I can ask Clarke if she’s still up for it. I’m sure we can work it out.” The two laughed in the tree, and into the night. They stayed up there for a while, downing their drinks and climbing higher through the branches. Bellamy recounted the latest tale of Nate sort of walking but ultimately falling and crying after a single step, and Miller laughed again, telling him about Monty, drunk and doing the same thing.
“I missed this,” Miller said eventually, gripping the branch with his hands as he sat sideways on it. His legs were draped over one side, and Miller pushed himself backwards, so he was holding onto it by just his legs, upsidedown.
“I live right next door,” Bellamy replied, holding himself up to a branch by just his hands, and otherwise dangling in the air.
“I know, but we don’t do stuff now you have a kid. I’m either hanging out with one of you, or both of you and a screaming child.” Bellamy sighed, sort of shrugging, but not, because that meant falling out of the tree.
“We’re parents,” is all he could reply.
“I get that,” Miller said, trying to figure out how to move from his position. “But I miss my friends sometimes, I guess.” They stayed silent for a moment, as Miller gripped the tree by just his hands and let his legs swing over the top. He landed on the ground and stumbled a little.
“Four out of ten,” Bellamy said from in the tree. “You need to work on your technique and landing.”
“Those are the only criteria,” Miller replied with a smile. “How the hell did I get a four?” Bellamy jumped down, only wavering a little on the landing.
“You just looked so damn cute while you were doing it,” he grinned, winking. They walked back up in the direction of his house, deciding to pick up the beer cans another day. The sky was well and truly dark now, and the light in the baby’s room in Bellamy’s house had turned off, Clarke removed from sight.
They flicked on the lights as they walked through Miller’s house, but found themselves sitting back on the sofa, staring at the contracts anyway. They sat in silence for a minute or so, staring at the paper. Miller was freaked, yeah. But he had Monty and he knew that. Monty would be home the next day, and he would smile at the sight of the signed documents, and he would be a great dad and do good by his kids, and Miller wasn’t afraid of that. He was afraid of becoming an adult.
He watched as Bellamy moved forward, shuffling through the documents and lifting out a few pens. Miller was an adult, he knew. And it was about time that he started acting like one – or, at least, about time that he tried to.
“Clarke can’t wait for the weather to warm up,” Bellamy said, handing over the first documents after marking them. Miller found little x’s where he needed to sign, and glanced up at his friend, but Bellamy was already moving through the next stack of paper. “She wants to have as many barbeques as possible before the next one comes.” Miller nodded, signing. Clarke being pregnant and ready to go onto kid number two, while Miller was still afraid of kid number one was also fairly daunting. “She also suggested we knock down the fences up at the patio.”
“Massive garden?” Miller asked, finishing the last signature. Bellamy nodded.
“If we’re going to be making a tree fort in the summer – which Raven really needs to start the plans on - we thought, why not just open the gardens up?” He handed over the next contract, and Miller started moving through it, suddenly grateful that Monty had filled in all the long answer questions of how many kids are you willing to adopt, and list your reference contacts. He saw Clarke and Bellamy’s names on there, as well as his parents’.
“The next owners are going to hate us,” Miller said absently, scrawling his name across the lines.
“Well those won’t be coming around until we’re old and buying a beach-side villa together,” Bellamy grinned. “Then they can sort themselves out.” Miller chuckled, glancing up at his friend. They’d joked before about the four of them living in a large villa when they retired – but Miller was still learning (he should have known this already) that them joking tended to be more serious.
Just past Bellamy’s head, in Miller’s line of vision, he could see collage of photos on the wall. Monty had wanted a wall of photos, somewhere at least, and so they had been forming one since they moved in. There was an unsurprising amount of photos of Clarke, Miller and Bellamy together. In a particular area, though, there were the photos, all in the same position, reenacting onanother, of their prom night, Clarke held between them.
“What if our kids hate each other?” Miller asked quietly, still looking at the photos. Bellamy paused in his shuffling and looked to his friend.
“They won’t,” he promised.
“But when I was a kid, my dad’s best friend had a kid my age too,” Miller said, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow. How could they have a story that hadn’t been said yet? “They were the absolute best of friends, but me and the other kid hated each other. What if that happens?” Bellamy shrugged.
“It won’t. We’re not going to give them the chance to dislike each other – they’ll have to deal with joint holidays and barbeques and generally seeing each other every day,” he said. “And if they don’t like each other then, I won’t care, because they’ll still be dragged to all of the events with us anyway.” Miller rolled his eyes, smiling as Bellamy handed him another contract.
Within ten minutes, the papers were signed and the two of them were sitting back on the sofa, a pile of papers stacked up on the coffee table.
“When you’re a dad,” Bellamy started with a smile. “I’ll teach you all the bad jokes you get the license to make.” Miller laughed, rolling his eyes. He didn’t mind the prospect of being a parent, not really.