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Uncle Darren
Darren Quinn
"Aimeeeeee!"
"Shhh! Just give it back! You're gonna wake up Dad and Uncle Darren!"
"You said I could borrow it!"
"When I was done! I haven't read the ending!"
"But you're reading the ballet book now!"
"Shhh!"
Darren Quinn groaned, trying to bury his face deeper into his pillow to block out the impossible-to-ignore rising volume of the squabbling preteens outside his bedroom door. One of his husband's arms was slung over him; it tightened around him with an answering grumble. In the space between sleep and accepting wakefulness, Darren found himself wondering if his arm would be more effective at blocking out the sound. If it were, would he be able to go back to sleep?
Then he sighed, pulling back the covers.
His husband, Miles Bennet, tried to tug him back. "Sleep. I've got it. Kids! Keep it down!"
The offer was certainly tempting. It was a long weekend, and they'd been up late finishing a book together. Miles had started working his way through the Percy Jackson books with thekids before bed when they were over, passing the book around every two pages. Darren had been more than happy to join the rotation, relaxing in the large leather sectional they'd bought when his old one proved far too small for movie nights.
"I'm up." Darren rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he staggered over to his bureau, starting to hunt for clothes. "We can tag team it. Should feed 'em anyway... slept in."
"That's what long weekends are for." Miles kissed the back of his neck before grabbing his housecoat off the hook in the ensuite bathroom, then slipped outside to deal with Bookgate.
By the time Darren had pulled on clothes and washed his face, the sound of little voices had migrated into the kitchen, where Miles was making coffee. Noah turned, looking up at him with wide brown eyes. "I'm sorry we woke you up, Uncle Darren."
It was impossible not to smile, resisting the urge to ruffle the boy's hair. "It's okay, time to get up anyway. Why don't we get your stuff together and get dressed while your dad cooks breakfast?"
By the time both kids were dressed with their bags packed up, Miles was setting plates on the breakfast bar piled high with a scramble, hashbrowns, and sausages. He ate at the other end of the counter, and Darren let himself relax into the cozy sense of well-being that always came from eating his husband's food while watching Miles interact with the kids.
Even after three years of marriage, it was hard to believe sometimes that it was real. Even when it meant early mornings and an overstuffed apartment.
"God... we really need a bigger place." Coming back into their apartment after having seen the kids into a ride share to go to their mother’s, Miles started picking up discarded sneakers in the front entry. "I'm sorry about the mess, Dare."
Putting the last of the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, Darren straightened, stealing a glance at his husband before turning it on. Miles looked tired - who wouldn't be after a weekend running around with pre-teens? - but quietly happy, and that happiness never failed to warm Darren to the core. "It's alright. I knew what I was getting into."
Miles gave him a dubious look, tucking the shoes away and closing the closet door before joining him in the kitchen. "An entire weekend spent hopping between dance classes, figure-skating practice, and costume fittings? If you knew what you were getting into, then we need to go buy a lottery ticket right now, because that's some fairy-tale level of foresight." To Darren's delight, Miles slid his hands around his waist, before backing him up against the counter for a very appreciative kiss.
Despite his assurances, what Miles had said was true. Before he'd met him, Darren hadn't expected he'd ever really have children in his life on a regular basis, let alone be co-parenting part-time. As the manager of New York's most exclusive sanctuary for the overburdened, his professional focus on that lifestyle was about as far from family-friendly as anyone could imagine. He was fine with that. He'd been given Shimizu Services to form, and grow, and turn into a place where his peers could reach their full potential and their clients could get their needs met without judgment or shame. He'd thought that would be the greatest accomplishment of his life.
But all that had been before Miles. He'd been a beautiful, broken man when he'd first set foot into Darren's office, aching for someone to be the anchor in the storm of his life. His desperate need, willingness to surrender, and incredible good looks had made him the ideal devotee and awoken every kind of yearning Darren had ever experienced. He'd never expected to move beyond the professional. But Miles had surprised him with far more than just making the first move when he'd never even been with a man before.
"You've done so much for me all weekend," Miles murmured against his lips, reminding Darren of the unwavering heart and steadfast devotion at the core of his husband's being. He stroked a hand up into his hair, his voice growing soft and inviting. "Will you allow me to thank you properly, husband? We could go back to bed?"
Miles was always the most exquisite temptation, especially after a weekend of having to be quiet and discreet. But for the moment, the 'bed' part was even more tempting. "Mmm. Nap first? Play later?"
"I'd really like that," Miles breathed, kissing him again.
Darren grabbed Aimee's abandoned hairbrush on the way, tucking it back into the main bathroom. Even with the mess, he couldn't help but smile. When they'd started working to get Miles's children back, he'd been focused on doing it for Miles, not his own terror of having any responsibility over the formative years of a person's life. He'd been an only child himself, and his parents divorced young. While he'd had plenty of friends, even the concept of younger siblings had been foreign to him.
But the kids were important to Miles. Miles loved them, so Darren had set aside his fear and resolved to fake it until he made it.
He hadn't expected how quickly he would come to love them, or how protective he'd feel over them. How could he feel any other way when he saw so much of their father in them? After nearly three years of co-parenting, he'd do anything for Aimee and Noah. Especially since he suspected that Noah - who'd inherited his father's gentle nature - might very well grow up to be some kind of queer. When it came to Aimee he couldn't tell. The girl was as fiery as her mother and had declared her favorite t-shirt one with an assortment of cute anthropomorphic food items in the colors of every pride flag Darren had ever seen and some that he hadn't.
