“Shep, language.”
“I don’t care about language,” Shep snatched the towel from Jayne’s shoulder and shoved it in the diaper bag, “but I do find it interesting that you didn’t care what the hell was coming out of my mouth until I insulted your new boy toy.”
Heat seared Jayne’s cheeks. “He’s not my boy toy!”
Shep shrugged. “Not yet, maybe, but I’ve seen the way you look at him, Jayne. I’ve seen the way your eyes sparkle and how you laugh at even the stupid things he says. You want him.”
“And you must want to be grounded, because this conversation is way, way inappropriate.” Jayne tried to stand his ground, but the embarrassment he’d felt moments before had done a curious thing—it had turned into contentment.
Did he really look like that when Everett was around? Was it really so noticeable? It wasn’t like it was all that big a deal. Not really. Any single parent would have been wooed to see an attractive man act in such a sweet, paternal way toward two young children.
“Look, you’re doing it again.” Shep shook his head. “Just so you know, I don’t care if you want to ground me, or take away my computer, or chain me up in the laundry room while I wash all of Parker’s gross old cloth diapers. What I care about is that you stay safe—thatallof us stay safe.” Shep undid the lock on the bathroom door, but didn’t twist the doorknob. “We lost Mom and Dad. Simon’s gone now, too. You’re what I have left, Jayne. You and Parker. I’m not going to lose you, too.”
Jayne looked from Parker to Shep, but by the time he did, Shep had already taken the opportunity to tug the drawstrings of his hoodie tighter, largely hiding his face from view. The gesture struck Jayne hard. No matter how mature Shep sounded, he was still just a kid.
“You’re not going to lose me,” Jayne murmured. He squeezed Shep’s shoulder. “I’m never going to put you in that position.”
“Then be careful.”
Jayne’s heart ached. What Shep had asked for was more easily said than done. “I will.”
* * *
KnotMyProblem:Does anyone else feel like today fucking sucks?
KnotMyProblem: It’s Saturday. Saturdays aren’t supposed to suck giant donkey balls. I’m pretty sure it’s Federal law that Saturdays have to be good
xVerity: What’s going on, Knot?
KnotMyProblem: Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess
Gwynning: The question is, whose bed?
KnotMyProblem: Haha, very funny. If you have to know, I woke up on the wrong side of my bed. Therein lies the problem
Jayne frowned.
GlitterDoctor: I feel you so hard right now
GlitterDoctor: About the Saturdays-sucking-balls thing, I mean. It’s been a hard day for me, too.
KnotMyProblem: …
KnotMyProblem: But not about waking up in your own bed?
KnotMyProblem: I swear to god, Glit, if you end up falling in love and white-picket-fencing it with some strapping specimen of a man who bippity boppity boops your problems away, I will protest your wedding. It’s my turn, damn it! Who gave you the right to barge in here and find love and happiness before me? I have seniority
xVerity: Just so you’re aware, the correct enchantment is bibbidi-bobbidi-boo
xVerity: It’s very important to get the pronunciation right during spell-casting, you know.
xVerity: Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, when all the spell components are in place, will summon true love. Bippity boppity boop should, if my knowledge of the arcane is correct, lead to chronic bouts of being single.
Gwynning: and also placentas
An image of a placenta auto-populated in the chat, and Jayne had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from cackling.
KnotMyProblem: FUCK YOU RIGHT IN THE FUCKHOLE, GWYNN
