When Erik arrives at the mutant playgroup/parenting support circle on Thursday he's surprised to see another dad there he doesn't recognize. Most of the other parents are women, and at first Erik thinks it's a husband he hasn't met before. But Erik doesn't recognize the baby he's carrying in a sling on his chest, and the guy is hanging back on the outskirts like he doesn't know anyone yet. He's sitting on a bench alone, watching the other parents who are all eagerly chatting with one another, the various cliques catching up on the past week.
Erik makes sure Lorna is happy and playing nicely before coming over to sit next to him. Erik figures he'd rather hang out with the new guy since most of the moms have been treating him chillily ever since he suggested that maybe Amy would be more comfortable in a human-focused group instead of a mutant one. The new dad has heavy black-framed glasses, a red flannel shirt that looks like it's been through one too many playgroups, and a wavy mop of dark hair the same color as his baby's curly one.
"Hi," the man says, looking up at Erik cheerfully. Up close he has a layer of red scruff over his face that might be the start of an ironic beard, or might just be too many days without a razor. The baby also looks too big to be carried around strapped to one's body any more, in Erik's opinion, but then there are several attachment parenters in the group so that's not that unusual. "Are you here for the mutant playgroup?"
"Yes," Erik allows. He turns his head to check on Lorna again. She's joined two other children climbing backwards up the slide and he waves at her but she doesn't notice.
"My name's Charles, and this is David," the man says, indicating the overly large toddler hanging from his shoulders.
Erik introduces himself and adds, "Hi, David," more because it's the obligatory etiquette in playgroups than any desire to meet Charles' offspring.
"Can you say hi, David?" David glances up at Erik but says nothing. He has a wooden toy dump truck in his mouth, which Charles takes away, repeating again in a high-pitched tone, "David, say hi!"
David refuses to cooperate, grabbing the truck back and determinedly gnawing on it. Charles sighs and wilts a little, looking overly disappointed considering the last child Erik was introduced to at this playgroup spit up and then set his shirt on fire with his eyes.
"It's okay," Erik tells him. "Lorna was shy at that age."
"He's not really talking yet," Charles says, taking the truck out of David's mouth again. David immediately snatches it back. "He can just… not without a lot of prompting. He doesn't even babble on his own."
"How old is he?"
"Eighteen months."
"That's not unusual."
"No, but it's not a great sign either. He's telepathic."
"Oh," Erik says, understanding a little better why Charles is acting so worried. "Are you…?"
"Yes. I presented young too, but I still learned to talk by his age." Erik smiles at that, relieved. He hates being cornered by the non-mutant parents at these things. They always want to ask prying questions about his experience growing up with human parents. "Of course," Charles continues. "My parents did things the old-fashioned way. You know, never responding to me unless I spoke out loud."
Erik makes a face, his lip twisting up. "I don't think that's very healthy."
"It's not, but it's certainly effective." Charles sighs. "I try to talk to him a lot, but… I don't know. It's easy to get in our own little bubble when it's just the two of us. That's why I thought we should try this playgroup."
Erik nods. He points over at Lorna, wanting to make sure Charles knows he's not some creep here by himself. "That's my daughter, Lorna."
"Oh, she's cute. I like her hair."
Erik smiles. "She's four. She hasn't gotten her powers yet, but I think she's going to be metallokinetic, like me."
"That's great," Charles enthuses. "You're probably right. Electromagnetic powers are highly inheritable. Did you come from work?"
"No." Erik glances down at his neatly pressed trousers and blue button down shirt. He's well dressed, but it's not like he's wearing a tie or anything. He just doesn't cultivate the disheveled dad look like some people. Charles, on the other hand, is wearing a grey knit scarf that looks like it doubles as a cleanup rag. There are several stains on it, including a reddish brown one on the edge that Erik really hopes is jam. David is currently chewing on the other corner. Charles suddenly looks self-conscious, probably having registered Erik's scrutiny, and he pulls the edge of his scarf out of David's mouth. David puts the truck back in its place.
"Are you married?" Charles asks, continuing with his twenty questions. His eyes drop down to Erik's bare left hand.
"Divorced," Erik says. "I've got primary custody, but Lorna's mom lives in Jersey and she visits with her every two weeks."
"Ah," Charles says, smiling broadly again. "Me too! I mean, I'm not divorced, but David's mom lives abroad and I have full custody. It's so nice to meet another single dad!"
Erik smiles. "It's nice to meet another dad period at these things."
Charles nods. "This is our first time. I saw a poster at our daycare co-op and thought it would be good for David to meet more mutants his age. I'd like him to grow up part of the community. Not the odd one out all the time, you know? I just wish there was another telepath here."
Erik pauses. "I can't think of any other kids off the top of my head, but I'll ask around and see if anyone knows someone. There must be another telepathic baby somewhere in New York."
Lorna wanders over then, probably because she noticed Erik was paying much more attention to a stranger than to her. "Daaaaaaad," she says, leaning heavily on his knee.
"Looorna!" Erik says in response.
"Can I have a cracker?"
"No, you'll spoil your supper."
"But I'm hungry noooow." Lorna leans forward dramatically over his lap, teetering like she's on the verge of fainting from hunger.
Erik sighs. "Fine, you can have five fish."
"Ten?" Lorna asks, limply flopping her head to the side so she can look up at him.
"Five."
Lorna pouts, but holds out her hand as Erik pulls the plastic baggy of goldfish out of his jacket pocket.
"Lorna, this is Charles," Erik says, motioning to Charles as she takes her time eating the fish one small bite at a time. "And David."
"'ice to meet you," Lorna says, standing up straighter to see David.
Charles apparently finds this adorable, and beams at her. "Nice to meet you too, Lorna. I like your tights."
Lorna looks down at her rainbow-striped tights and smiles toothily.
"What do you say?" Erik prompts, tucking the fish back in his pocket.
Lorna plays at being shy, turning her head and pressing her face against Erik's side, but after some more prompting she whispers, "Thank you."
She climbs up on the bench and squeezes between him and Charles, apparently opting to stay. Erik decides to let it go, figuring she'll go back to play again once she gets bored of adult conversation.
"Which daycare do you go to?" Erik asks.
"All Shapes and Colors on 5th Ave and Carroll," Charles says. "It took me a long time to find somewhere that could handle a telepathic baby. Most places got freaked out by the idea of a baby that could project its needs into other people's heads."
"That's not fair," Erik says, his brow furrowing. "How is that any worse than a baby that expresses its needs by screaming?"
Charles shrugs. "I agree, but I also couldn't leave David with people who were afraid of him. He'd know."
Erik nods. "That must be hard."
"Well, I work from home, so it's not like I need to take him somewhere. I mainly do it so I can give myself a break and get some real work done."
Lorna, predictably, grows bored of this line of discussion and starts kicking her feet. But instead of going back to the playground she reaches up and takes David's toy truck, snatching it out of his chubby little fingers.
David frowns, staring at his hands in confusion. It takes several seconds for his eyes to track to Lorna and comprehend what happened. His frown deepens once he spots the stolen truck and he holds out one hand, making grabbing motions at her. Charles snorts and muffles a laugh, bouncing David a little in his lap to try to distract him.
"Lorna," Erik says. "Is that yours?"
Lorna looks up at him innocently. "It's a truck, daddy!" David keeps reaching out and squirming in his sling, trying to worm his way out and get closer to the truck thief.
"But is it your truck?" Erik asks, barely restraining himself from asking her who's spit is all over it.
Lorna frowns. "I found it."
David is holding two hands out now, his tiny face scrunching up in anger. "Ai, ai, ain!" he says. After a second to process this, Erik decides that it must be David for "mine."
Charles' eyebrows shoot up his face and he lifts David up, flipping him around to face him. 'That's right!" he says, beaming at David. "Yours! It's your truck, David!"
David is seemingly oblivious to Charles' excitement, twisting around and reaching over his shoulder, still searching for the truck. Erik takes it from Lorna and puts it back into his grasping hands. He immediately puts it into his mouth and he gnaws on it happily. "Uck."
When Erik looks back at Charles his eyes are shiny and wet. He quickly looks away, turning to scold Lorna, who is huffing in anger now at losing her stolen toy.
Once he has a moment to collect himself, Charles says, "He never talks around new people. I think that was a first. Do you want to make a play date? I could meet you two at the park sometime, or even watch Lorna if you need a sitter."
Erik doesn't normally accept play dates so readily, but it turns out Charles lives close to Lorna's preschool in Prospect Heights, so it only makes sense to drop by one afternoon when they're in the neighborhood. Charles has a loft apartment, ridiculously, with a large open kitchen and a living room surrounded by shelf after shelf of books. There's a raised bedroom up a steep flight of stairs, which doesn't seem like a very safe layout for a child. But then David doesn't have to climb since he seems to spend most of the day physically attached to Charles.
The first time Erik drops by Charles is wearing nothing but a baby sling and a pair of yoga pants. "Oh, sorry," he says, glancing down at his bare wrist. "I thought I had more time, come in." His chest is surprisingly well defined for a busy father. Probably because of all the shoulder and upper arm work he does carrying around a toddler all day.
Erik shuffles inside after Charles, who disappears up the stairs. Lorna goes straight for the living room and David's collection of toys, most of which appear to be wooden and handcrafted. There's a minuscule set of cabinets and appliances made out of particleboard in one corner, and Lorna quickly sets the tiny teakettle boiling on one of the fake burners. Erik takes it as a good sign that she wants to play with one of the only pieces of metal in the room.
Erik is sharing imaginary tea with a teddy bear and a ragdoll when Charles returns. He's wearing a shirt now and is attempting to pull the baby sling back on while still holding David in one arm. Erik gets up and takes David from him to help, and together they get him secured back in place on Charles' hip.
They go down to Prospect Park four blocks southeast of Charles' apartment and walk to the newest playground, which has a lot of cool metal features. Lorna makes a beeline for the merry-go-round and Erik and Charles spend several minutes spinning her around until she stumbles off dizzily. Charles actually takes David out of the sling and lets him totter around the edges of the playground while Charles follows him, chatting with Erik whenever they're close enough to hear one another talk. Once David gets tired, Charles takes him over the shaded grassy area to the side and lays out a blanket. Lorna is shockingly well behaved, and even comes over to sit with Charles and David on the blanket once she's ready to sit down. They split a picnic lunch of cheese, snap peas, trail mix, homemade pickles, crackers, and some kind of kale dip that is actually pretty good.
After that Saturday afternoons with Charles become a regular thing. Sometimes they go down to the park, sometimes they take the kids somewhere to eat, and sometimes they just hang out at Charles' apartment. It's sunny and warm, the windows facing south, and Charles has two big French doors in the living room that open to a false balcony, letting in the hustle and sound of voices on the street below.
The best part is that he and Charles actually hit it off. Erik is used to finding himself the odd one out with other parents. Either he's too mutant for humans, too militant for mutants, or too himself for polite conversation. It's wonderful to be able to talk about kid stuff with Charles and actually bond with another parent for once. It's also nice to talk about things that aren't babies. They get along well enough that Erik suspects they'd be friends even if they didn't have kids. They still have the occasional argument, though, especially once Charles finds out he works for Mutant Rights First and reveals the need to nitpick every aspect of their outreach and legislative strategy.
"But you can't get the full package through Congress, that is my point," Charles says, still arguing even as he takes David out of the room to change him.
"And my point is that it's a symbolic package," Erik says, putting more of Charles' homemade marmalade onto the biscuits they made for an afternoon snack. "It's not meant to pass."
"What the hell is the point of an impossible symbolic bill?" Charles asks, shouting from the bedroom now. "If you split it up you might actually get the mutant bodily-autonomy parts through."
"And lose the federal non-discrimination rules in the process! We can't throw mutants with physical mutations under the bus like that."
"So you're saying you'd rather that we get nothing if we can't get everything?"
Erik can hear David starting to cry and Charles muttering something soothing to him. "Maybe we should have this argument later?" he shouts.
"He's only thirsty," Charles replies. "Can you get a sippy cup of milk out of the fridge?"
Erik opens the fridge and finds that nothing inside looks prepackaged. It's stuffed full of heavy-duty glass Tupperware and mason jars. Something appears to be fermenting near the back, and there's a pitcher of greenish juice on the side. There are also several sippy cups in the door, lined up in a row with labels on the side.
Erik selects the first cup and unscrews it, sniffing the contents. It smells overly sweet to him. "Is this formula? What do you use?"
"Oh, I don't. It's natural."
"Like the Earth's Best organic stuff?" Erik asks. He puts the lid back on the cup and tips a drop onto his finger, raising it to his mouth.
"No, like breast milk."
Erik yanks his finger back from his mouth just in time, suppressing a gag. "Breast milk?"
"Yeah," Charles says, coming down the stairs now with an unhappy David. "My neighbor Heather pumps too much to use herself so she gives us a bottle or two every day."
"This came from someone else's body?" Erik asks, holding the cup out away from himself. "Is that even sanitary?"
Charles laughs and takes it from him. "Sure, I don't let it sit in the fridge for more than 72 hours." He taps the side of the cup, where there's a strip of masking tape and written faintly in pencil "8/11, 8pm." "It's much healthier for babies to have breast milk, after all. I didn't want to David to have a compromised immune system."
"But—this woman isn't even related to you."
Charles shrugs. "No, but, haven't you ever heard of wet nurses? Something like 75% of children throughout history have nursed from someone else besides their mom."
"But, but, what if she has AIDS?"
Charles snorts and taps the side of his head. "I'd know if Heather had AIDS. It's not like I'm one of those crazies who orders breast milk through the mail."
"You can order breast milk through the mail?"
"Well, not legally," Charles says, shrugging as he puts the cup in David's grasping hands. David lifts it to his mouth and starts sucking happily. "It's called milk swapping. You live in Brooklyn and you've never heard of this?"
"Isn't he too old for breast milk?"
Charles looks scandalized. "You're never too old for breast milk! The longer the better."
"Never?" Erik repeats, looking at down at David happily sipping away.
"You know what I mean," Charles says, turning up his nose like he's offended.
Charles seems like the perfect hippy-dippy parent in every respect. He makes all of David's food himself, storing most of it using a big water-bath canner and the ubiquitous mason jars. He's vegan, but he buys organic free-range cruelty-free meats for David. All of David's toys are handmade and fragrance and chemical free. He has cloth diapers and all-natural organic baby lotions with no more than three ingredients. Even without the telepathy, Charles is so well tuned to David's needs that he seems to understand the meaning behind his slightest coo or unhappy gurgle.
Erik suspects that Charles is compensating since he seems to be raising David almost entirely alone. He has a sister he mentions watching David once or twice, but she plays in some band for a living and her schedule doesn't seem conducive to babysitting. Otherwise, he doesn't appear to have any family, not even a distant cousin who can help out. When Erik asks about his parents Charles makes a face and says "dead" without elaborating. Erik can't imagine raising Lorna without Edie and Suzanne's help. It seems impossible, but then Charles is like some super parent, effortlessly cooking an elaborate meal while rocking David in his sling and explaining the stages of mutant child development to Erik. Erik doesn't see a crack in the façade for over a month, not until the first Saturday Lorna is at Suzanne's for the weekend.
Charles calls in the mid-afternoon, sounding scattered and tired. "Hi, Erik, are you and Lorna on your way?"
"Oh, no," Erik says, stepping away from his fridge and shutting the door. He was just about to make himself a late lunch. "I thought I told you, I don't have Lorna this weekend. She's at her mother's house."
"Oh, that's right," Charles says, his voice wavering like this news is completely devastating to him. Erik can hear David crying in the background. "I guess I forgot."
"Are you okay?" Erik asks. He's not used to hearing Charles be anything but sunny and upbeat.
"Umm," Charles says, sounding like he's on the verge of tears while David continues to wail in the background. "Not really. I don't know why I forgot, you told me last week. I was just hoping I could take a nap while you were here maybe, but it's okay, I can just—"
"Listen, I'll come over."
"No, you don't have to do that on your day off! Sorry, I wasn't trying to guilt you or anything."
"No, no, it's fine, you sound like you could use the help." Erik hangs up so Charles can't keep trying to argue him out of it and catches an F train over to his apartment.
When Erik arrives Charles is shirtless again with a screaming David strapped to his chest. His eyes look bruised and tired, and it looks like he didn't wash either David's hair or his own that morning.
"Hey, what's been going on?" Erik asks, taking in the equal devastation of Charles' kitchen, which has food containers all over the counter and piles of dirty plates on the table, as if Charles has been too busy to clean up after breakfast and lunch.
Charles sighs, patting David on the back like he's doing it out of habit more than any expectation of soothing him. "He threw a tantrum last night and wouldn't go to bed and he's been up for hours and hours now but won't nap, and, god, an eighteen-month-old shouldn't be colicky again."
Erik lifts David out of the baby sling and holds his cheek and forehead against the side of his face. David squalls at him unhappily and his hands scrabble against Erik's shirt collar trying to get a grip. "He feels warm to me, maybe he's coming down with something."
Charles fidgets. "Does he? I tried taking his temperature last night, but he hates the rectal thermometer and I couldn't get a good reading. He's been coughing a little, but I thought it might just be from all the screaming."
David lets out a little cough then, huffing like he's clearing his throat. "Oh, god, there. Like that," Charles says, wringing his hands. "Did that sound barking to you? What if it's croup? It could be croup."
Erik lifts David higher and holds him against his ear so he can listen to his breathing, at least as much as he can hear it over David's cries. "His air flow sounds good. I don't think his throat is swollen."
David's hands find Erik's short hair and start pulling on it painfully, and he coughs again. Charles startles. "I had croup as a baby. They had my mother put a little infant respirator on me."
"It's not croup," Erik says.
"I should take him to the emergency room."
"There's no reason to expose him to the emergency room. If you take him there he might really get croup. He's just tired and cranky, and you're too tired to think straight. What did you do for him when he had colic as a baby?"
"Swaddling, but he's too old for that now."
"How about you heat up some milk and I'll start a bath? That'll help if he has a temperature."
Charles nods and turns to start a pot of water boiling on the stove, rubbing the heel of one hand over his eye.
Erik goes up the stairs to the bathroom and finds a retro rubber ducky on the shelf in the tub and a selection of natural herbal bath products with names like Happy Splashy Times. Erik selects one with chamomile in it called Baby Go Sleep Sleep and fills the tub with several inches of water and bubbles. David seems to like the sound of the water running and stops crying in order to splash when Erik settles him in the plastic baby bath seat. Erik finds a washcloth and starts washing him, rubbing his little toes while he kicks up water.
Charles comes back with a sippy cup wrapped in a dishtowel and pauses in the doorway, watching as Erik carefully pours water over David's head while using his hand to shield his face.
He makes sure David hasn't gotten any suds in his eyes and glances at Charles over his shoulder. He's slightly disappointed to see that Charles has pulled a shirt on. "He's circumcised?" Erik asks.
"Oh, yeah," Charles says, kneeling down next to Erik on the bathroom floor. "He had the full bris and everything. Most traumatic day of both our lives. That reminds me, I've been meaning to ask, do you belong to a synagogue? We're going to visit Gabby and her parents in September and I know they're going to ask and…" He wrinkles up his nose.
"Sure, we go to Temple Emanu-El on the Upper East Side."
"Is that the really, really huge one?" Erik nods, a little surprised, and Charles continues, "I have all these brochures somewhere, but I got overwhelmed just going through them. I just feel so awkward about it. I didn't convert or anything."
"Are they Orthodox?"
"Her parents are conservative, I think. But I don't think they'd be overly worried about where we're going, so long as it's somewhere." He reaches out to splash some water at David, smiling as David gives him a surprised look, his little mouth forming a perfect "o."
"You should come with Lorna and me sometime," Erik says. "They have a mutant-outreach program. I'll introduce you to Rabbi Pryde. She does this special children's Shabbat once a month. I like her. She's good."
"I'd appreciate that." Charles leans one elbow on the tub and rests his head on his hand. "I want to start taking him now when he's little because I know if I wait it'll be even more awkward for both of us. I want him to feel like he belongs, you know?"
Erik nods approvingly. "Mmhmm, that's a good idea. And if you come with me then you can finally meet my Ma. She'd love another pseudo-grandchild to spoil. It's a hobby of hers, adopting babies that don't have bubbies."
"Oh, that would be great," Charles says, smiling at him tiredly. "I really want David to have more female"—he breaks off to yawn, stifling it unsuccessfully—"more female influences in his life."
A distant part of Erik's mind notices that Charles looks very pretty like this, with his dark hair curling around his face and his cheeks and mouth flushed red from the warmth of the bath. Erik shakes his head. He shouldn't be thinking about making a move while Charles is exhausted and not thinking clearly. "Listen, why don't you go lie down and take a nap? I'll finish up David's bath and see if I can get him to settle down."
Charles sighs like he's going to refuse, but then nods and gets to his feet. "Okay, yeah, if you don't mind, it'd be nice just to lie down for a bit."
Before he leaves he pulls the baby sling off over his head and arranges it over Erik's shoulders. "You'll probably need this. Trust me."
David tires of the bath shortly after Charles leaves and starts getting fussy once his toes start pruning. Erik dries him off and then finds a little terrycloth baby robe hanging from the door with a hood that looks like a dinosaur. He wraps David up in it and then tries to give him the cup of milk, but he pushes it away after only a few sips.
Erik decided to put him in the sling instead and try walking around until he falls asleep. It takes a few tries for Erik to get him settled comfortably, but finally he figures out a good height so David can rest against his shoulder. He snuffles for a minute, taking hold of a handful of Erik's shirt and making unhappy noises that gradually build into a full on cry.
"Really, kid?" Erik says. "I know you're tired, but you'll feel so much better if you just get some sleep."
David lets out an unhappy wail in response, his voice rising right in Erik's ear. Erik goes into the living room and resolves himself to walking in circles until David calms down. The sun is setting by now, but any hope that Erik had that the dimming light will help David get to sleep proves unfounded. Erik begins to tire of the loop around Charles' small loft after roughly thirty laps. He keeps talking to David, hoping against all evidence that his voice is having a calming effect and he'll start to feel sleepy soon. David does go quiet sometimes for a few moments, just long enough for Erik to start to get optimistic, but then he'll start all over again with the same helpless wail.
"Shush, shush, it's okay. Shush now. Come on, Davey," Erik says, circling around the coffee table yet again while patting David's back. "Give me a break here, what's wrong? What's wrong, baby? Please just settle down, please, please. Don't you want to sleep? You'll feel so much better if you sleep."
Erik is stepping over David's wooden blocks when he's struck with a sudden sharp pain in his jaw, right at the back of his mouth. He stops and raises his hand to his face, fumbling with David in surprise. Hurts, a voice says, the word forming itself in Erik's head and pulsing in time with the pain in his mouth.
The pain is gone just as suddenly, and Erik finds himself staring down at David's curly mop of hair. "Was that…?"
Erik waits until David opens his mouth to take a breath and puts one finger inside, feeling along his gums. David's jaw closes immediately and he gnaws on Erik's finger as he presses, finding the tender spot quickly enough. "Oh, Davey, no wonder you're so unhappy."
He circles back to the bedroom with his thumb still in David's mouth. "Do you have any children's painkillers?"
Charles rolls over, blinking up at him from the bed. "Yeah, there's liquid Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. Is his fever back?"
"No, but I figured out what's bothering him. He's got a big molar coming in."
Charles gets up and follows Erik to the bathroom, and together they get David to have a spoonful of cherry Tylenol. It'll still take a half-hour to kick in, but at least that will let him get some sleep once it does. Charles leans over to wash his face in the sink while Erik goes into the kitchen to find something for David to chew on.
"What are you looking for?" Charles asks, coming in with a towel draped over his shoulders, rubbing at his blood-shot eyes.
"Do you have anything cold?" Erik asks, poking around in the side drawers in the freezer looking for teething rings. He doesn't find any, but he does find a homemade popsicle mold. He pops one loose, finding that it's red with flecks of green leaves. "Can David have one of these?"
Charles nods, still patting his face dry. "Sure, good idea."
Erik takes an experimental lick. "What flavor are they?"
"It's strawberry, rhubarb, and basil. Have one if you want." Erik makes a face, but David seems happy as soon as he gets hold of the wooden stick, sucking happily on the end of the popsicle. He gnaws at the ice and the little wrinkle of pain between his eyebrows finally relaxes, his expression softening. His face is soon a sticky, happy, red mess.
Charles comes over to stand next to him, reaching up to touch David's back.
"He spoke to me," Erik says. "I mean, projected?"
Charles looks surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah, he showed me how his tooth hurt."
"Oh," Charles says. "That's good, he must feel safe with you. That's a good thing." He bites his lip and frowns, not looking like he actually thinks that. "You could have told me your tooth hurt last night," Charles says, addressing himself to David now, who has his head settled on Erik's shoulder, red sticky drool already smeared over Erik's collar.
"Maybe it wasn't bothering him earlier," Erik says. "He might also be coming down with something."
Charles nods vaguely, still looking down at David. "You're so good at this," he says, his voice sounding thin and tired.
"It's easy when it's not your baby and you've had a full night's sleep," Erik replies, but Charles doesn't seem to be listening.
He lifts the towel up from his shoulder to cover his face and takes a long, wavering breath. "I'm so bad at this."
"Charles," Erik says. "No, you're not. You're a great father."
Charles shakes his head, still keeping his face covered, but Erik can hear him sniffling like he's near tears. "No, I'm not."
"Charles…" Erik reaches out for him but Charles turns away and goes back into the bedroom. Erik follows after him, not sure what to do. He has an excessive amount of experience dealing with crying babies, but that doesn't help much when it comes to adults. He doubts Charles needs to be burped or changed.
Charles lies facedown on the bed, still using the towel to muffle his snuffling. Erik sits down next to him, shifting David to sit on his knee. He puts his hand on the back of Charles' neck and squeezes gently. "It's hard, it's really hard sometimes." Charles shudders under his hand and Erik ends up stroking his back until his breathing evens out and he seems to calm down. David is still happily working on his popsicle, and finally gives them both a break by staying quiet.
Charles sniffles and turns over, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm—it's just, why couldn't I figure that out? Of course he's teething."
"Hey, it's okay now," Erik says. He claps his hand on Charles' shoulder in what he hopes is a steadying pat. "You had a bad night, but now David feels better and you can both get some sleep and everything will look better tomorrow."
As if to counter Erik's optimism, David lets out a little whine and Erik turns back to see his face is scrunched up unhappily again. Erik takes the popsicle stick away from him before he can break it and choke himself. "Hey, what's the matter, buddy? Did you get an ice cream headache?"
"No," Charles says, sitting up and composing himself. "It's my fault. When I get upset he gets upset too. We can get in a feedback loop and it's not pretty."
"Oh," Erik says. "Well that's probably what happened last night. You shouldn't blame yourself. You must be exhausted doing everything alone without any help."
"I have help," Charles says, taking David back from him. He yawns and David yawns too, his little face mirroring Charles.
"Not enough help," Erik says.
"I think he'll sleep now," Charles says. "Let me just get a washcloth to clean him up."
"No," Erik says, standing before Charles can get up. "I'll get it."
By the time he comes back David already has his eyes closed, and he only opens them to blink slowly when they clean off his sticky face and hands.
"Where's his crib?" Erik asks, realizing he's never seen one before.
"Oh, he doesn't have one," Charles says. "We co-sleep."
Erik tries to remember Charles' very recent insecurities and bites his lip as he lays David on his back on the bed. Still, he can't help asking, "Aren't you worried about him falling off?"
"The bed's big and I have one of those safety rails that clips onto the side." Charles turns, looking around with a frown. "Although I'm not sure where I put it…"
"It'll be fine, put a pillow behind him," Erik says, regretting his backseat parenting.
Charles lies down, curling behind David. Erik stays perched next to him on the edge of the bed, figuring he'll wait until Charles is asleep before he goes. Charles lies still for only a moment before turning over and rearranging himself on his other side. This also doesn't last long before he flips over again.
"Want me to go?" Erik asks.
"No, I don't know. Now I'm too wound up to sleep."
"Maybe you should do something else until you feel calmer. You might keep David up if you're tossing and turning." David makes a noise and moves his head, his eyes blinking open for a moment as if to confirm Erik's statement before he closes them again.
Charles sighs, looking frustrated, but he sits up. "You're right. Let's go downstairs."
"Do you want me to make you some tea or something?" Erik asks, following behind him down the stairs.
"No, I've got a better idea," Charles says. He goes into the kitchen and starts digging around in the cabinets, producing a mason jar with a few small green bunches at the bottom that Erik assumes are broccoli florets until he gets a whiff. "Really?" he asks.
"Oh, hush, you're the one who said I needed to calm down," Charles says. He goes into the living room and opens up a tin can on one of the bookshelves. He pulls out a package of rolling papers and a baggie of filler, both of which he tosses onto the floor. He cracks open the door to the Juliet balcony and leans against it as he sits down. Erik joins him, stretching out with his legs in front of him so their ankles are touching. Charles doesn't need a baby monitor since the apartment is so small and the bedroom loft is open to the downstairs, and they both pause occasionally to listen for noises from above. David seems to be solidly out now, helped along by the baby Tylenol.
"I would have thought you'd be into edibles," Erik says, watching as Charles arranges his various bits of paraphernalia around him.
"I make muffins sometimes," Charles says. "But I like the ritual, you know?"
Erik nods and watches as Charles breaks up the bud carefully and mixes it, tipping the leaves onto the paper. He tears a roach out of a packet of hemp smoking tips and folds it expertly. His fingers are already steadier by the time he's rolling it up, his movements surer before he's even lit the end and inhaled. He takes a long first draw, holding it in with his eyes closed before blowing the smoke out the open door and coughing. "Want one?" Charles asks, tapping the jar with his toe.
"Nah, just give me a drag," Erik says, reaching out to take the joint from him. Charles pushes his hand away and takes another draw himself instead, holding up one finger to make Erik wait. He doesn't exhale, holding it in and then leaning over toward Erik. He has to crawl a bit, walking on the heels of his hands across the floor until he's practically on top of him. Erik's mouth opens in surprise as Charles leans heavily over him, his lips just brushing Erik's as he blows out long and slow into his mouth.
Erik is too startled to actually inhale much, but he gets more the second time when Charles presses his lips against his own. Erik opens his eyes, staring into Charles' very blue eyes only inches away, their noses brushing against each other. He feels dizzy and off-center, not sure how to react. He raises one hand and brings it up to Charles' side, touching him slowly and sliding it around to his back.
"You want to…?" he asks, and Charles nods, closing his eyes as their lips meet again, this time in a kiss.
Oh, thank god. Meeting another single dad is rare enough. Finding a single dad who dates other dads is like hitting the jackpot. Charles pulls away to put out the joint and sets it aside, but then he's on Erik like he's desperate for it, pulling at his shirt and running his hands up and down his chest.
Charles gasps as Erik's tongue meets his own and presses closer to him, his arms wrapping around Erik's neck. "Oh my gawd," he says, half-crying it into Erik's mouth. "It's been so long."
"Shush," Erik says, not wanting to undo their good work and wake David back up. He shifts Charles around, pulling him onto his lap, and Charles moves so his legs are wrapped around Erik's waist.
Erik makes short work of Charles' sweatpants and then things proceed from there in a mutually satisfactory direction until they're both panting in a sweaty heap on the floor. Erik's face ends up smushed into the carpet at an uncomfortable angle with Charles resting heavily on his shoulder. Charles' face is hidden by his hair, and when Erik gives him a shake he doesn't stir. "Charles? Come on, get up, baby. Let's go to bed."
"Uhn," Charles mumbles. No, I'm tired. Sleep now.
"Not on the floor, sleep on the bed."
Erik manages to manhandle Charles to his feet and up the stairs where he deposits him on the bed. He goes into the bathroom to clean up, annoyed to find that he accidentally ruined his jeans. Of course he's wearing black ones. He kicks them off, figuring he can use Charles' laundry room in the morning.
Charles is already asleep by the time Erik gets back to the bedroom. Erik checks that David is still breathing next to him, and then shuffles Charles over so there's enough room for him to lie down.
When Erik wakes up the next morning Charles is curled up in his arms, and they're sharing the same pillow. Charles eyes are already open and he smiles when Erik shifts and looks down at him.
"I really like you," Charles says, his voice rough from sleep.
"Um," Erik says, not used to dealing with emotional declarations first thing in the morning.
"And I think we should keep doing that," Charles says, moving closer to press a closed kiss against Erik's mouth so there's no mistaking what he means by that.
Erik kisses him back, once on the lips and then on the forehead. "Good, me too."
Their weekend routine continues in much the same way, but now Lorna and Erik spend the night. David and Lorna enjoy having a weekly sleepover and sharing Charles' big bed, while Charles and Erik enjoy having an adult sleepover downstairs on the pullout couch. They continue this way for nearly two wonderful months, and Erik is firmly settled into their comfortable routine when he arrives at Charles' apartment one Saturday and finds a woman there.
He startles when she opens the door, pausing in the hallway with his mouth open and one hand on Lorna's shoulder. "Hello?"
"Hi!" Lorna says, smiling up at the unknown woman. Erik needs to have another talk with her about immediately trusting strangers.
The woman smiles at her and says, "Oh, you must be Lorna and Erik! Come on in. Charles is just changing David."
They step into the kitchen, and Erik watches warily as she opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of juice like she knows the place. She's also, he notices, wearing one of Charles' sleep shirts. It's an oversized Mutant Rights First shirt Erik bought for him. He's starting to draw a picture here involving Charles and the Friday afternoon single parent playgroup at Carroll Park, and it's not a pretty one. Lorna is oblivious to the tension in the room, and she digs in Erik's bag until she finds his iPad and takes it into the corner to play.
"I'm Erik," he says to the woman. "I mean, clearly you knew that, but."
She smiles at him, tucking the juice into David's diaper bag where it's sitting on the table. She has dark curly hair that flows over her shoulders and down the nape of her neck. Dark curly hair that looks very familiar somehow. "I'm Gabrielle."
"Oh," Erik says, waiting for further explanation. Should he know her? Is she in their playgroup? That might explain why she looks vaguely familiar. Wait, maybe she's Charles' sister? No, her name was Raven, wasn't it? Gabrielle is giving him a look like he might be a little slow and maybe he is, because Erik suddenly remembers countless comments from Charles about Gabby this and Gabby that and her hair—David has that same curly hair and holy shit she's David's mother.
"Oh," Erik says again, feeling incredibly stupid now. "I didn't know… you were in town."
Gabrielle laughs, a sweet melodious laugh. "I sort of dropped in last minute. I had a layover and I extended it for a few days since it's been so long…" At that moment Charles comes into the kitchen carrying David and Gabrielle switches into a high-pitched baby voice, finishing, "It's been so long since I've seen Davey, there he is! There he is!"
She leans in and kisses David's head, tickling his stomach until he giggles, and then she looks up happily at Charles. They both smile—Charles is practically beaming—and then he leans in and kisses her on the mouth. It's a short kiss but firm, and there's no mistaking it. "I'm so glad you're here," he says, and he really looks like he means it.
What. The. Hell. Maybe they have an open relationship? Erik's pretty sure if you don't tell the other person you're in an open relationship it's just cheating. Does this mean they're having an affair? This probably counts as an affair. Oh, god, is he the other woman?
Erik has been under the impression that Gabrielle was a friend with no interest in children who acted as a surrogate so her own parents would get off her back about having children. He's reassessing that now, clearly, his mind whirring as he tries to recall every mention of Gabrielle Charles has ever made. When they first met, what did he say? I'm not divorced, but David's mother lives abroad...
Holy shit. They are having an affair.
Charles must notice Erik looks a little murderous because he comes over to him once he's deposited David in Gabrielle's arm and she leaves the room to go upstairs. "Hey," he says, brushing against Erik's arm. His voice drops. "Sorry I didn't warn you before. She came in late last night and we overslept."
Erik opens his mouth to ask why Charles couldn't have warned him that he and David's mother were still together—like, say, three months ago—but then Gabrielle comes back into the room and Lorna stops being distracted by his iPad and comes over to hang on Erik's arm. "Daaaad, Dad can we go? Can we go to the park? I wanna swing on the swings."
"Say please," Erik tells her, his mouth moving on autopilot.
"Please, can we go to the park now?"
"Yes, okay, let's go," Charles says. He puts David's diaper bag over his shoulder while Gabrielle grabs one last thing out of the fridge. He pauses at the door next to Erik and smiles at him, completely guileless. Charles reaches up to fix Erik's collar, and then wipes a smudge of something off of his face before Erik can bat his hand away. He licks his thumb and looks up at him through his lashes, "Mm, grape."
Erik feels his eyes-widen as he gives Charles a horrified look. The mother of his child is behind him and Charles is flirting with him.
Charles pouts a little, like he's confused by Erik's standoffishness, but Erik doesn't have time to say anything before they're in the elevator. He stays silent throughout the walk to Prospect Park, stewing as he watches Gabrielle baby talk to David and Lorna happily skip along next to Charles, holding his hand.
At the park, Charles lays out the picnic blanket as usual, and then he goes to buy them all ice cream, taking Lorna with him and leaving Erik and Gabrielle alone with David.
Erik busies himself unpacking the food so he doesn't have to look at Gabrielle. She has David in her lap now and is bouncing him with a thoughtful expression on her face.
"You must think I'm a terrible person," she says, apropos of nothing.
"What? Why would I think that?" Erik asks, spilling oil from the hummus on the blanket as he uncaps the jar. Now, Charles, on the other hand…
Gabrielle shrugs and looks down at David. "Not wanting to be involved. I breeze in and out every few months while Charles does all the heavy lifting. It's nice being a long-distance mommy."
"Kids aren't easy, I mean, they're not for everyone," Erik says, hedging as he tries to figure out what she's actually talking about.
"It's just—I never expected to be a mother, you know? I'm sure Charles told you that David was an accident and I wasn't really—well, I'm glad I had him now, I just hope it doesn't mess him up too much, you know?"
Erik's mouth moves on autopilot while his brain continues whirling away, trying to make sense of the picture she's drawing. "I don't think—I don't think living arrangements are really that important. The important thing is that David has adults in his life who love him and who he can depend on. I mean—Lorna has a dad, and a grandmother, and a mother she sees every few weeks, so—"
"And Charles," Gabrielle says, reaching out and touching his arm.
"R-right," Erik stammers, looking at the hand on his arm and then back up at her face, which looks exceedingly sincere. "And a Charles."
"And David has you."
"Uh huh," Erik says, feeling like this conversation has swerved somewhere while he's continued going straight, driving over the curb and right off the edge of the road.
Gabrielle smiles warmly in response to his flabbergasted expression and looks like she's about to say something more, but then Charles and Lorna come back.
"Look, Daddy!" Lorna says. "I got you mint chocolate chip! Just like my hair!"
"Thanks," Erik says, taking the cone from her. He's a little annoyed that Charles bought her ice cream before they even ate lunch. He takes a bite of the cone to keep from snapping at someone, accidentally smearing some of the ice cream on his face and feeling it dribble down his chin. Of course they didn't bring any napkins.
Erik makes do with the back of his hand and watches as Gabrielle and Charles take turns spooning ice cream into David's mouth. They really make a perfect couple, looking sweet and mutually adoring as they coo over their baby. Erik hates this. He's never felt like he doesn't belong around Charles, and the feeling now is a very rude awakening.
Lorna realizes he's angry and starts getting upset herself, pulling clingily on his shirt and climbing into his lap before she's even finished her cone. She gets green handprints all down Erik's white polo shirt and Erik lifts her back up again. "Why don't you go play on the swings?" he suggest.
"I dun wanna," she says.
"You wanted to five minutes ago," he points out.
"Come with me," she pleads, sticking her lower lip out.
"I'm hungry, let me eat something first," he tells her, and she only pouts more.
"I can take her!" Gabrielle says. She puts David in the baby sling across her chest and stands up, taking Lorna's sticky hand without complaint. Erik watches them go, none too pleased to see his daughter happily following his boyfriend's girlfriend. Or wife or whatever she is. They definitely need to have another talk about stranger danger.
"Sorry this is awkward," Charles says, sorting through the various jars of food looking for something.
"No kidding," Erik says.
Charles winces. "I probably should have told you to stay home, but I really wanted you to meet Gabrielle and she's leaving tomorrow. Sorry for foisting her on you without any warning."
"What did you tell her exactly?" Erik asks.
Charles gives him a confused look as he opens a Tupperware container and takes a sniff. "About what?"
"Us," Erik says. "Does she know?"
Charles laughs. "Of course, that's why she wanted to meet you."
"Oh," Erik says. So that's how it is. "I didn't—it's just, you never really told me anything about her."
"Haven't I?" Charles asks. "I mean, there's not much to tell."
"Try me," Erik says.
"Uh, okay," Charles says, sitting back. "Well, we met in grad school and we were always friends, but we didn't start having sex until after." Erik clears his throat at that, his eyes narrowing as Charles continues. "David was a complete surprise, of course, and I totally scared her by telling her I was ready to be a father. Eventually she decided to go through with the pregnancy, but that she didn't want to be involved herself. And, you know, in the end the arrangement worked really well for both of us. I get to be a dad and she doesn't have to worry about her biological clock ticking while she's working in Mozambique or wherever the hell she's moving next."
"I see," Erik says, his voice somewhat frosty.
Charles opens up a jar of trail mix and starts picking the dried mangos out and popping them into his mouth. "I think it's really, you know, the best way to do things. With a friend. If you're not married."
Erik blinks a few times. "So you're not…?"
"Friends?" Charles asks, looking confused. "Wait, married?"
Erik shrugs.
"You thought Gabrielle and I were married?" Charles asks, his voice rising a bit too loudly. Erik glances over to check that Gabrielle hasn't heard, but she's busy playing tag with Lorna on the grass.
"Well, I didn't know what to think, you never told me," Erik grits out. "She's just at your apartment this morning and you're making doe eyes at her!"
Charles starts coughing, and spits out part of a mango on the grass. The coughs shortly turn into laughter, and it must be pretty fucking funny because soon he's wiping tears from his eyes. "We're not married, Erik. We weren't even together in the first place! We were fuck buddies who got drunk one time and weren't careful!"
Charles starts coughing again and Erik hits him a few times on his back. "Really?" he asks. "Honest to god? If you're lying, I swear—"
"Swear to god!" Charles says, his voice a bit high-pitched as he keeps clearing his throat. "Jesus, what the hell did you think was going on?"
"I don't know!" Erik says, throwing his hands up. "David's mother is here and you look so happy together and I freaked out!"
Charles chuckles again and puts his arm around Erik's neck, pulling him in close in a hug. "Oh my god, no. What is wrong with you?"
"This is not my fault, this is clearly a shared communication issue," Erik says, trying to push him off before giving in and hugging Charles back.
"Well, just to be clear, while we're communicating here, I told Gabrielle you were my boyfriend weeks ago."
"Oh," Erik says, wilting slightly.
"She was very excited and happy to meet you."
"Uh huh," Erik says. "Well, I'm happy to meet her too."
"No you're not," Charles says, pulling away and wiping his eyes.
"She'll grow on me, I'm sure," Erik says, glancing back over where Gabrielle is now rolling in the grass as Lorna and David tackle her repeatedly.
She does, actually. He and Charles start Skyping together with Gabrielle after that, and Erik finds that she is actually a very nice, smart lady who does ridiculously dangerous work supporting women's and infant health in third-world countries. Her interest in infants seems to be mostly theoretical, and Erik comes to better understand her relationship with David, which is warm but not overly involved since she's so busy.
When the high holidays get closer and Charles starts getting ready for his and David's trip to Israel, Erik finds that he actually wants to come along so he can see Gabrielle again. Charles seems deeply relieved by this, and together they get through the trip with a minimum amount of awkwardness. Gabrielle's parents and extended family are all very excited to meet her son, and Charles seems to feel better having his Jewish boyfriend along as proof he's not raising David goyish. Erik's not so sure they're okay with the whole same sex partner thing, but no one says anything ugly and he and Charles also get to meet Erik's uncle Erich while they're there. His mom tears up over the pictures later and promises she'll come with them next time.
Charles actually starts crying too, as Edie decided this is a good time to hug him and say "welcome to the family." This is slightly embarrassing since they're in public, sipping bad coffee in the temple library after services. Erik gets them all to calm down before they start weirding people out or upsetting David and Lorna.
"Three is much better than two," his mom says, holding his arm later as they're walking back to her house for dinner.
"Four, Ma," Erik says. "Or maybe five if you count Gabrielle? Six with you too. How many family members are we including here?"
She pats at her face with a crumpled tissue in response and says, "Exactly."
This version slightly edited to meet FFN's content guidelines. Full version is over at archiveofourown org /works/1097684
Thanks for inspiration goes to Cesare and aesc for their snippets based on James McAvoy's absurd hipster photoshoot, and Miya for her adorable drawing of Charles carrying David in a baby sling, as well as the entirety of #xmentales chat for brainstorming about hipster!dad!Charles. Thanks to Unforgotten and Runi for help betaing. All errors (especially of location) are my own.