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This was a horrible idea after all. Why was he so stubborn as not to listen to his own husband about ordering online? Mark rubbed his temples as Wallter complained to him loudly and very dramatically as they both walked in the endless maze of showcases. Originally, Mark wanted to go to a thrift shop since he didn't spend too much money, but Wallter whined about it being 'tacky,' so here they are at IKEA.
Their favorite materials, bricks and wood, were all mixed up into a 2-story house. It was Victorian-style, with a modern twist, something they both liked. It resided in the suburbs of the city where they first met. Wallter designed it himself, yet the interior was a bit bland, so he let Mark help him develop plans for it. The newlyweds decided on 2 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms, yet... Mark drew up plans for 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms.
It was clear that Mark wanted to start a family with Wallter which stirred up a conversation about it specifically. Wallter was flustered, blushing since he didn't expect Mark to be such a family man, which was surprising to Mark. But not so surprising as he thought about how aloof Wallter can be at times, haughty too.
That was a part of the number of reasons they were here in IKEA today, decorating their nursery...
"Mark! Are you even listening to me?" Wallter yelled out, crossing his arms and pouting. His eyes narrowed as he stared at him, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground.
"Yeah, yeah, I am! damn..." Mark snapped right back at his husband, turning around and throwing his arms up in the air. Taken aback slightly, Wallter huffed, his eyes getting narrower as he leaned down to be eye-to-eye level with his husband.
"Then what did I discuss while you were mindlessly wandering about?" His tone was snarky, clearly passive-aggressive, and irked by Mark ignoring him. Anger quickly filled Mark's being, his face feeling hot as he snarled. He got close, staring Wallter down.
"What do ya want from me? 'm just as exhausted as ye are! I've been tryin' and... and tryin' to find a way outta this place! Quit god damn complain' an' and bein’ whiny! AND HELP ME!" His voice got louder with each word he spoke. He backed off when he was done. Glaring at the shocked Wallter, and matching his stance. Mark crossed his arms firmly against his chest as he pouted, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
Wallter scoffed, rolling his eyes as he raised his hand and shooed Mark away. "Whatever. I need time to myself." He quickly walked away to a nearby couch in one of the showcases, his arms still crossed.
Panic washed over Mark, seeing his husband walk away from him, as tears rolled over his cheeks. He immediately hopped over to him, roughly scrambling onto his lap as he began to sob. "...'m sorry! 'm sorry! Please, don't be angry a'me please..." His whole body was shaking as he sobbed, trying to get closer to Wallter's body and nuzzling his face into his chest.
Mark's reaction immediately made Wallter feel bad; a sinking feeling of guilt settled in his stomach. He took off Mark's construction hat and set it aside, his fingers running through his splinter-like hair. He shushed his husband, cradling his head and his other hand resting on his lower back. They both stayed like this for a while, Mark trying his hardest to calm down with Wallter's help.
Soon, Mark spoke first, winded from sobbing so much, his Southern drawl shaky and unsteady. "...'m sorry, I just didn't mean t' lash out at ye like that..." He whimpered, staring at Wallter's face, trying his hardest to read what emotion Wallter was expressing. Inside, he was quite conflicted about pushing Mark right off his lap and scolding him for crying. Yet sympathy took over since he knew how... Mark needed to be comforted and didn't want to leave him alone with his emotions.
"Oh, shush, you are okay," Wallter answered with a warm smile, leaning his hand up to cup Mark's face. It was warm and wet with tears, his thumb wiping the rest away. "You mustn't apologize for expressing how you feel..."
"Are ya shure?" Mark sniffled, nuzzling into Wallter's hand, silently enjoying how smooth his skin was. "I know how ya don't like how... emotional I can be," He turned his head to kiss his palm, his lopsided smirk returning as he stared at his husband.
Just as fondness filled Wallter's face, it quickly turned to shock as he took a double-take, his eyes widening. He immediately stood up, dropping his husband to the floor as if he weren't there. The anger quickly came back, his face turning red as his fists balled up. Mark was about to bark at Wallter again before his husband turned around, holding a toddler wearing his discarded construction hat.
"Oh my goodness, Mark!" He gasped, wide-eyed as he stared down at the struggling toddler. It was a lamp humanoid, screeching while trying to get out of Wallter's arms. "Someone... Someone... Left their child here! Unattended!" Mark looked just as shocked, scooting across to get to the couch and use it to help himself up.
"Err... I can see that." As he finally stood up and staggered over to Wallter. Mark stared at the toddler before he stopped squirming and stared back, side-eyeing him. The wooden mannequin smiled, albeit awkwardly, before reaching for the hat that the lamp was wearing. As soon as he saw that Mark was trying to take his hat back, he started to scream bloody murder.
"Näe! Näe! Näe! Mama!" The lamp had an odd, thick Swedish accent, yet so high-pitched that he was barely intelligible. He cried out, flinching away from his hand, and held on to Wallter's trench coat. The toddler's little metal hand was also holding on to Mark's hat. He looked back at Mark with an obvious pout.
"Definitely a lil' shit too." Mark's eyes narrowed as he watched the lamp glare back, his plug tail swishing back and forth in the air.
"Mark! He is just a baby!" Wallter's grip tightened, his torso slightly turning as if to shield the lamp from Mark's words. Afterwards, he cleared his throat, but in such a way that it was obvious he was trying to change the direction of this situation. "...Anyhow!... We must find him... Her? It's parents. Mark, may you be a dear and find an employee so we could report its disappearance?" The toddler glared at Wallter as if he understood what he was saying about him and his gender.
Mark rolled his eyes before turning around and observing his surroundings of the seemingly infinite IKEA. “Well, before I go and do that, I need my hat back… Can’t be lookin’ all scruffy.” He exaggerated the last syllable, making eye contact with the lamp once more. “Give it ‘ere, kid,” holding his rough wooden hand out to him, expecting his plastic hard-top hat to be given back to him.
The younger robot glared back at him before slowly placing the headgear on Mark’s palm. Mark quickly snatched it away, placing it on top of his head and then correcting its position on his head. “I’ll be back, brick boy.”
Then he stumbled away from them both, Wallter watching him closely as Mark disappeared behind the set wall. Now, he was there, left alone with a stranger’s baby. Wallter felt a strange cocktail of emotions rise in his chest as his gaze met the lamp humanoid. Heavily concerned about how people could be so neglectful of their offspring, simmering rage at his husband, and slight… Joy. Hell! He even feels a bit mischievous and wants to kidnap this baby and raise it himself. The irreversible damage to his reputation is what was making Wallter second-guess himself.
This might be worth it in the end… A little bit of… Accidental baby acquisition. Wallter giggled at his own idea, a smirk forming on his face. The lamp toddler began to tug on his collar, trying to turn his attention back towards them.
“Hm? What is it that you require, young one?” He cooed, pinching his lampshade cheek, which earned a loud squeal out of the toddler. “...I have forgotten to ask you this, little one, but what shall I call you?”
A moment of silence fell between them; the child stayed quiet and stared off into the distance for a worrisome amount of time. Wallter was about to ask him if he was alright before he shouted out, “Lampert!” The sentient lamp had a huge grin on his face, noticing the shocked look on his parental figure’s face.
“Well!” Wallter’s facial expression changed from shock to joy, holding Lampert away from his body. “It is decided, your name will be Lampert then!” He gazed lovingly at him before holding the toddler close to his body once more. “Now, where are your parents, Lampert?” Wallter asked, poking at his son’s cheek.
“Lampert! Lampert! Lampert!” He shrieked to the dismay of Wallter.
“I suppose I ought to teach you English as well…” The elder one answered, a slight frown appearing on his face alongside his eyes narrowing.
Then, all of a sudden.
The crisp, high-intensity overhead lights flickered off one by one. It shrouded the entire store in darkness; scattered across the floor were only the dim lights of nearby fixtures. Wallter blinked repeatedly, trying his hardest to adjust to the absence of light. Lampert began to fuss and squirm, his chassis stiff and tense as if he were scared of something. Something that he knew would be near.
“Oh dear, you are alright.” Wallter shushed Lampert, yet quickly began to become confused as his child continued to fuss. Eventually, he placed him down and watched as he hid underneath a nearby end table. Finding the barely visible sight adorable, Wallter was about to gush about it before the toddler tugged on his trench coat.
Lampert was signaling for him to crouch down and hide alongside him. “Lampert, I am way too enormous to hide with you!” Yet the toddler continued to tug on him, beckoning his father to come closer. “Well… If you so insist.”