(Originally written June 16th 2014)
Tucker was not ready to be a father, but life didn't care if you were ready or not so he was just going to have to suck it up and deal.
It was only supposed to be one night, one night with a stranger, but a month later there was some guy on his porch saying his sister was pregnant and he was (most likely) the father and that if he wanted the kid he'd better speak up now because otherwise she wasn't keeping it.
He had said all that in a bored tone, like he was used to the sort of thing, and Tucker had a moment of panic. 'I'm going to be a dad oh shit I'm too young to be a dad was I drunk that night did I use a condom did I catch anything is my dick gonna fall off I'm not ready for this what am I going to do Church is going to laugh at me I'm going to screw this up who was she again shit shit shit I don't even know who the mom is what the fuck is my life wait that dude is still standing there I think he wants an answer am I ready for a kid shit shit fuck.'
In the end he found out the guy standing on the porch was Dexter Grif ('just Grif, asshole'), the mom was Kaikaina Grif (how the fuck did he forget that name?), and that his gut instinct was to keep the kid because Tucker was, apparently, a really protective kind of guy.
This leads to an actual date with the mom-to-be, to Tucker realizing that she was a lot of fun, but not in a "I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you-doing-boring-adult-things-like-making-life-changing-decisions-with-you" kind of way, and to Tucker realizing that, out of the two of them, he was the more responsible one (and wasn't that a laugh) and Kai was in no way able to take care of a kid (nor did she really want to).
So, one birth and one paternity test later, Tucker was left with a good friend he occasionally fucked ('wear a condom, asshole'), a not-really-brother-in-law ('please don't talk about my sister's sex life, I'm trying to eat'), and a kid who really, really needs to not wake him up in the middle of the night like he was doing now.
Tucker had one arm folded under his head, the other arm reaching into the crib as he rubbed lazy circles on the month old's stomach. He was trying not to fall asleep with his head propped on the railing, but he hasn't been getting a lot of sleep lately. Luckily, Junior's wailing was making falling asleep stooped over impossible.
"Why? Why won't you sleep, sleeping is good, sleeping is great. You have some of your uncle's gross DNA, you should love sleeping. Please go to sleep."
Junior didn't seem to care about Tucker's pleas, only crying louder (if that was possible). Tucker straightened up, rubbed at the crease that was likely marking his cheek, and bent down to pick up the crying infant.
His brain was still fuzzy, trying to figure out what Junior needed. "You're not dirty, you're not teething, they haven't canceled that obnoxiously neon colored show you like, so what's wrong?" Tucker was just talking to be talking now, the kid not caring about his words. He had hoped the sound of his voice would calm him down, but it wasn't working. His kid was big for his age, almost out growing the "Daddy's 'lil Squirt" onesie that Kai had gotten him. She thought she was hilarious, and it had been pretty funny, but this?
This wasn't funny, so not funny.
Tucker was rocking Junior back and forth now, copying a movement he saw on an old TV show once. It wasn't working, he was still blubbering, drool and snot soaking into the shoulder of his gray t-shirt.
Tucker had stopped sleeping naked, it was just creepy with a kid in the house, and he was especially thankful for the extra layer of material between baby drool and his bare shoulder. Kids were gross, but so were most of his friends, so it wasn't all that bad, just sticky.
"Are you hungry, is that it? Junior got the munchies?" Junior didn't indicate his feelings on the matter, only grabbed at Tucker's neck, sharp little nails scratching at his skin. "Fu – fudge, little man, those talons have got to go." At least he hadn't started pulling on his dreads (a habit Tucker really wished he hadn't of picked up). He'd deal with all that later though, right now it was down the hall to get a bottle.
The trip was fast, the kitchen only a short walk away, but it might as well have been a mile. Tucker was bouncing the little guy on his hip, looking for the rocking cradle thing that Grif's boyfriend ('not my boyfriend!') had given them at the baby shower. What was that guy's name again? Simon? Simmons? He'd called the cradle thing a bassinet, but Tucker just called it a cradle thing, much easier to remember.
After finding the cradle hidden by the couch under some clothes (he's been busy, okay? He'll pick them up in the morning), Tucker got Junior settled, well, as settled as seemed to want to be. Junior apparently wasn't too happy with being put down (not that being held had been making him any happier).
"Chill for a minute, dude, I'm not your mom, getting milk is gonna take a little longer than just whipping off my shirt." Luckily for Tucker, he had already boiled the bottles the night before, so getting them ready only took a few minutes.
"Okay, okay, I'm back, relax." The skin around Junior's brown eyes were puffy, toothless mouth slightly open in sad mumblings. Junior's complexion was as dark as Tucker's, no surprise there given that the kid's mom was naturally very tan herself. Donut had said he looked very sweet, like cinnamon. Tucker had just raised an eyebrow at that, not quite used to Grif's weird friend.
Junior didn't have any hair so it was anyone's guess if he'd have his dad's black or his mom's dark brown. Tucker thinks Grif might have been the one to start the betting pool on that. Church, the asshole that he is, was betting that he'd be bald forever. Well, joke's on him, because Junior had Tucker genes and his hair was gonna be awesome. He was gonna be a heart breaker, that was for sure.
For now though, he was just making grabby hands at Tucker, or for the bottle, Tucker wasn't really sure which. Tucker picks him up, the bundle squirming before instantly stilling when his mouth closes on the rubber nipple. "Yeah," Tucker yawns, "'m pretty happy with a nipple too."
He goes to sit on the couch, not caring that he's sitting on some stray shirts, before yawning again, Junior content to eat in silence. Tucker rubs at his eye with his free hand, the bottle propped up against his chest.
The sun was just starting to peak in through the blinds, the rays creating horizontal lines across his chest. Ugh, tomorrow was going to be hell.
He was just about to nod off when a clattering made him jerk, reflectively making sure he didn't drop the kid. Looks like Junior was done, bottle lying empty and slowly rolling under the armchair. Eh, he'd get it later.
Burping Junior was always a hassle since the infant seemed to enjoy seeing how much he could spit up before Tucker learned to have a towel nearby.
Tucker still hasn't learned.
After getting a clean shirt, Tucker takes Junior back upstairs, deciding to sit in the rocking chair his friend Connie had made him. She was wicked good with a chainsaw (threatened to take his balls off with it once too). The chair was very well made, making rocking Junior to sleep a comfortable process.
It was a few hours later when there was the sound of keys unlocking the front door, the soft thud of someone taking off their shoes, before going in search of Tucker.
Doc was introduced to Tucker through Donut. Tucker found him to be a decent guy and, after come convincing, found that Doc was a really great babysitter. Tucker worked a few days out of the week and, while having a babysitter for a newborn wasn't exactly standard practice, he needed all the help he could get.
Doc was given a key when Tucker decided that having his door banged on at way-too-fucking-early in the morning when he hadn't gotten much sleep in the first place was just a bad thing for all involved, so Doc was used to letting himself in, walking down the hall and gently tapping on Tucker's door as to not wake up Junior.
"Hey, Tucker? You in there, buddy?" When no one answered, Doc quietly turned the know, testing to see if it was unlocked. It was, but there was only one problem.
Tucker wasn't there.
Confused, Doc made his way to Junior's room. It was strange for Doc to be there and for Tucker to be awake before him, but maybe he wanted to get an early start...
Or not.
Doc put a hand to his mouth, muffling the quiet 'aw' he let out at the scene in front of him.
Tucker was fast asleep, his head bowed, snoring softly. Junior sleeping just as soundly, a little hand twisting into the front of his father's shirt.
Doc couldn't help himself, this was just too sweet. He just had to send a picture to Donut.
Donut immediately posted the picture to Basebook, tagging it as #toocutesendhelp and #fathersonbondingtime.
Tucker later wonders who "David" is and how he knows Connie after he sees the guy liking her comment about how she was glad he was at least using the gift she had nearly lost a finger making him.
He checks the guy's profile picture and decides that, even though he may be busy, he can still dream (and by dream he means masturbate furiously to the hot guy that seems to be friends with almost everyone he knows besides him. Oh, he and Kai were going to have words.)
Thanks for reading, comments are love!