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While Zayne's home is unbearably hot due to a broken AC unit and the outrageous summer temperatures, Sylus offered him a place to stay at his house until it gets fixed. Honestly, Zayne can't complain. He has a large room with a comfortable bed and a desk for work, a gym in the basement that's fully stocked and kept cool, and, best of all, he gets to spend time with the two boys that have quickly made a home in his heart.
Luke and Kieran are absolutely thrilled to have him around. It's been a while since they've had other adults in the house, they tell him, and Sylus can't honestly argue against it. He's not a loner, per se, but he's never really made friends easy. He himself thinks getting with his ex was a rare lucky break, and she was really his only companion for the longest time. Zayne smiles at the twins and assures he'll stick around for a little while. He doesn't miss the way Sylus's tries to hide his pleased smile.
And the domesticity of it all is surprisingly easy to slip into.
"Luke, please try not to splash water out of the bath," Sylus reminds his son for the twentieth time since bath-time started. Despite the tinge of annoyance in his tone, he keeps letting Luke have his fun with the bubbles and bath toys.
While Sylus kneels at the side of the tub, diligently scrubbing pear-scented shampoo from a cartoon-labelled bottle into their hair, Zayne sits on the toilet lid, supervising.
Really, he watches the twins play their games. He's learns how story-driven Kieran is. When he plays with his toys, there's some thread of a plot, some guiding thread of events. While Luke is action-driven, always seeking ways to make explosions happen or incite car chases. Together, it's a chaotic display of Mr. Ducky's trip to the supermarket rapidly descending into a submarine deep dive rigged to explode.
And explode it does. With two arms crashing down on the surface of the tub and splashing water all over everyone in the room. Sylus gets the brunt of it. He blinks water out of his eyes with a sigh, combing wet hair back on his head. One stubborn strand continues to fall in front of his eyes.
Luke blinks at him, almost surprised the water reacted that way. Then he smiles sheepishly. "Sorry, papa," he says, playing innocent.
And damned if it doesn't work. "Try to be more careful next time," Sylus chides, but it's far too affectionate to avoid this from happening again in the future.
"Papa, my fingers are wrinkly!" Kieran whines, holding his little hands up for his father to see.
Sylus pretends to bite them and Kieran giggles as he tries to hide his hands. "Once I finish washing your hair, you can get out."
Zayne slips from the toilet lid to kneel beside Sylus on the floor. "Let me help," he says, meeting crimson eyes that watch him with something warm. With a slight nod from Sylus, Zayne pours some of the shampoo into his hands and begins washing Kieran's hair.
He scratches gently at his scalp, massaging the shampoo in deep. He gets behind his ears and brushes away suds that slip down his forehead. And once it's all lathered in, he shapes the whitish hair into a mohawk that sticks right up. They both get a real kick out of that.
"Now you've done it," Sylus laments with a chuckle. He forms Luke's hair into two space buns.
The twins are still giggling about it as the adults scoop water into purple and green plastic cups and carefully wash out the suds. It's so natural. Sylus smiles to himself, eyes growing slightly distant as he remembers giving them baths when they were really small. His ex and himself in the kitchen, gently guiding warm water over round tummies and wispy hairs. Butting hips as she pretended to complain about how much they look like him.
He sets the cup aside and stands up. And like clockwork, Luke leaps from the tub, scaring Zayne who tries to catch him to stop him from slipping. But the mischievous child is faster.
Not faster than Sylus.
He's barely out the door when a towel suddenly stops him in his tracks and he's scooped up into his papa's arms, squealing and laughing. "And just where do you think you're going?"
Zayne is so distracted, he only sees a glimpse of hair from the corner of his eye before he's snatching Kieran up. He pulls him in, hugging him even as Kieran wriggles and giggles and squirms. "My, they have places to be," he jokes.
Sylus passes him another towel and Zayne wraps Kieran up, drying him off and tousling his hair. "Well, they can go after their hair is brushed. They have to make a good impression."
"I don't have to make a good im-reshun!" Kieran protests.
Sylus tsks as he sets Luke on the bathroom counter. "What about the knight in your book, Kier? If he showed up to face the dragon without armor, what sort of impression would that be?"
Kieran pouts. He can't possibly argue against that logic, not when he's fawned over that book since before he could read.
Zayne lifts him up, holding him on his hip as he joins Sylus at the sinks. And just like that, what upset him before is gone, stolen away as he watches his papa comb out Luke's hair. Luke squints his eyes tightly closed, until his nose is scrunched up, too.
"Too sharp, Papa!"
"Alright, sweetheart." He kisses his head and switches to a bristle brush with little plastic balls at the tips. After a few brushes from it, Luke's face relaxes. "Better?"
"Mhm."
Sylus digs through a plastic bin momentarily before passing over another brush to Zayne. It's a boar bristle brush, and Kieran lights up at the sight of it. "Ooh, good brush!"
"You prefer this one?" Zayne brushes it gently through his hair, combing through fine silvery hair.
Kieran hums with delight, closing his eyes as he nods. "It's so soft."
"He's sensitive to sensations," Sylus comments quietly to Zayne. "Other brushes make him feel like they're clawing at his scalp."
They work in quiet tandem. Their reflections mirroring them as they brush out each child's hair. At some point, Luke tugs on Sylus's arm and tells him to go back to the "other one". So Sylus picks up the comb again and finishes styling his hair. He helps Zayne style Kieran's, brushing the hair into place the way he likes it.
"Alright." Sylus scoops Luke up in one arm and Kieran in the other. "Let's get dressed and then we can eat dinner."
He shares a smile with Zayne as he carries the twins to their bedroom and Zayne heads to the kitchen to serve the meal Sylus prepared in the crock-pot.
-
"Why do I have to eat my veggies if Mr. Zayne doesn't eat his?" Luke questions in an outcry. Kieran isn't acting much better, poking the green bits of celery and broccoli around his plate.
Sylus glances at Zayne's plate. Everything is gone except for a neat pile of orange slices. "He ate the other vegetables," he defends. "They're good for you, sweetheart."
"They're yucky," Kieran says, sticking his tongue out.
"Your Papa's right. Vegetables provide very important minerals and fiber to your nutrition. You should-"
"But you didn't eat your carrots!"
Sylus snickers. Zayne watches in silent horror as he steals a slice of carrot from his plate and pops it into his mouth. "Papa's eating his veggies."
"But Mr. Zayne isn't!"
And when Sylus shoots him that look from the corner of his eye, he knows he's really in for it.
"I'll make you a deal," he starts, smirking. "If Mr. Zayne eats one carrot, you have to eat one vegetable. Just one. And if you really don't like it, you're free to go. Deal?"
The twins nod enthusiastically. Both lean forward, invested, watching with wide-eyes to catch the very moment.
Sylus's fork stabs another carrot slice and holds it up for Zayne. Zayne glares past it at him. "Just one," he assures quietly. "I'll make it up to you."
He huffs. "Leave me out of your deals the next time it involves carrots."
Sylus waggles the fork. Zayne wants to bail, but he knows better than to deprive a child of vegetables. It's good for them, he keeps telling himself. They really need to eat them.
He grimaces as he metaphorically bites the bullet and literally bites the carrot.
He hates it. God, he hates it. The texture. The taste. He chews through it quickly and chases it down with a lot of water. Sylus leans his cheek in his palm, watching the whole ordeal with unbridled amusement.
Zayne pushes his plate away with an air of finality. "Your turn," he reminds the twins, crossing his arms and trying to cope with the awful thing traveling down his esophagus.
The twins look at each other across the table. Kieran tries very hard to stab a piece of broccoli and ends up scooping it onto his fork. Luke pokes his tongue out as he stabs a square of celery. And together, they eat it.
Both their faces screw up. But Mr. Zayne ate his carrot, and they made a deal. So just like him, they try to get through it as fast as possible and gulp down the last of their juice after.
There's no stopping them when they chant, "Done!" and run off.
Zayne turns his glare back on Sylus. "You're terrible."
"It's good for your eyes. You should eat more."
"Carrots are an abomination. Their effect on eye health is only due to the vitamin A they contain, which can be sourced from other foods or supplements."
"Like I said, I'll make it up to you."
"Hm, I'll be interested to see just how you intend to-"
His words are cut off by the soft press of lips against his. They linger, unobtrusive, savoring. Then pull away. "How's that?" Sylus whispers. His eyes keep flickering from his eyes to his face to his burning ears.
Zayne swallows. His lips look so pretty in this light... "I don't think it's an equal payment."
"Oh? I'll try again, then, shall I?"
This time when Sylus kisses him, Zayne reciprocates it. His hand glides softly against the skin of Sylus's neck, caressing his jaw and feeling his pulse. Quiet breaths shared in the brief partings, swallowed up by the very next kiss with a wet, welcome sound. Sylus leans out of his chair, supporting himself on the arms of Zayne's. And it feels perfect.
They part slowly, drawing out the moment while they're allowed to keep it. While the boys are in the other room, playing their games.
"Thank you," Sylus murmurs, low and with the weight of sincerity. "You're so good with them. I'm sure giving kids a bath and being forced to eat carrots isn't part of your job description."
Zayne smiles. "It isn't. Parenthood has never been on my resume or a part of my 5-year plan... but I enjoy helping you. If ever you need it, I'll be happy to provide it."
"Even if it means eating another carrot?" Sylus teases, distracting from the way his heart raced under Zayne's fingers.
"I'd prefer if I didn't," he says. "However, I can help you clean up dinner."
Sylus steals another kiss. Just a small peck, chaste but loud in its gratitude. "I accept your offer."
Parting from each other's space, they work together to grab plates and silverware from the table and bring it to the kitchen. Zayne's pleased to scrape his carrots into the trash, and Sylus finishes the last of the boys' veggies with a shrug. "How d'you think I got to be this big, snowflake?" he jokes.
He brings down tupperware from a cupboard, exceedingly careful not to let any avalanche out, and Zayne takes over to scoop the leftovers into the container while Sylus gets started on washing dishes.
He wets the sponge, pours soap onto it, and scrubs the food residue off the plates one by one, rinsing them thoroughly under the spray of the faucet. He stacks them on a drying mat. Zayne puts the container away in the fridge and joins Sylus, drying the dishes with a tea towel. He stacks the clean plates on the counter neatly, then the cups. He does the silverware last, and by that time Sylus is free to put the dishes away where they go. He takes the utensils one by one as they're finished, slotting them into place in the drawer and nudging it closed with his hip.
"I'll be right back," he excuses himself with a charming smile.
Zayne can't help himself from tidying up a bit further, wiping down the countertops and straightening out the fruit bowl, toaster and coffee maker. As he does, two little hands tug at his pants.
"Mr. Zayne, can we have a candy?"
"Would your Papa let you have one?"
They nod enthusiastically. Lower lips stick out, eyes go wide and pleading. Zayne wishes he could say he was used to the puppy dog eyes from the children at the hospital begging him for sweets, too... Unfortunately, he's utterly powerless against it.
He slips his hand in his pocket and fishes out two strawberry cream swirls. The twins bounce on their toes excitedly as he puts one unwrapped candy in each of their hands, crunching the wrappers in his own. "No running or rough playing while you eat these, okay?"
"Okay! Thank you, Mr. Zayne!" they chime together. And they disappear with their spoils, holding onto them as they run back to their toys.
"If you keep doing that," Sylus muses from the other kitchen doorway, leaning against it with crossed arms, smirking, "we'll never let you leave."
Zayne smiles, caught red handed.
Neither of them admit just how appealing that threat sounds.