"Why won't you eat?" Sherlock asked as the infant spit out yet another spoonful of the pureed green slop that John had left him. Hamish giggled at Sherlock's frustration. "Please, please eat. I'm begging you!" He tried another spoonful only for it to be spit into Hamish's hand and rubbed all over the table of his highchair.
The boy smiled up at his father and laughed again. "You think you're very cute don't you? Well I'll let you in on a secret, you're not." He said tossing the spoon in the bowl and abandoning the green slime. He stormed into the living room leaving Hamish in his high chair as he went to call for Mrs. Hudson, she'd know how to get the kid to eat. Hopefully.
"Mrs. Hudson!"
"Oh what is it now Sherlock?" She still sounded annoyed from earlier when he'd asked her how to make a bottle. John had taken a year off of work when Hamish was born, and it was only Sherlock's first day alone with Hamish how was he to be expected to know how to do everything.
"I can't get him to eat!"
"Oh dear, alright I'll be there in a second." She met Sherlock at the top of the stairs and they both made their way back into the kitchen where the found Hamish with the spoon in his mouth. A quarter of the green slime was gone and Hamish kept shoveling more and more into his mouth. "Looks like he's doing a fine job on his own eh?" Sherlock beamed at his son. He felt so proud, it was strange. Being proud of being able to feed yourself? That's not something logical to be proud of, but he was.
"Look who's getting their fatherly instinct! Took you long enough!" Mrs. Hudson said as she retreated down stairs. Sherlock sat in front of Hamish watching him lifting the spoon to his mouth over and over. Sherlock gave him a smile and Hamish danced in his seat, his black curls bounced they were only partially caked with the pureed peas.
When Hamish was done Sherlock wiped the food from his son's face and hands, and lifted him from his seat. He was struck with a terrible smell. "Oh god Hamish that is horrible. Oh lord I have to change you don't I? Remind me again why your dad thought it was good idea to go back to work!"
"Because we need money Sherlock." John said sneaking up behind his husband and their son. A smile spread over Hamish's tiny round face.
"Oh good you're home! Here he needs to be changed." He held Hamish out at arms length to John.
"No I've been changing his nappies for a year, you can give it a go!" He went into their room to change leaving Sherlock with Hamish and his full diaper to take care of.
"Well let's 'give it ago' shall we?" He said carrying Hamish up to his bedroom, John's old bedroom; he placed him on the hand-me-down changing table that had once been his and Mycroft's.
Hamish wiggled around on the table under Sherlock's hand that kept him from rolling off as he gathered the nappie and the wipes. Sherlock placed the supplies behind Hamish's head and removed his nappie, he had seen John do it a million times, and wrapped the little sticky flaps around the rest of it.
Hamish began to roll under Sherlock's hand. Sherlock quickly rolled his son back over only to have Hamish pee right in his face. "Thank you for that Hamish." He sighed wiping the pee from his face.
He wiped him as quickly as possible, lifting his legs to slip the nappie underneath. He pulled the tabs making them meet in the middle. He re-did the snaps on his onesie and then lifted him up; he started bouncing happily on the changing table.
"Well I guess it wasn't that bad. But don't tell your dad I said that." he said whispering the last part. Hamish smiled and began babbling, reaching out towards Sherlock wanting to be held. Sherlock scooped him up, making his way back down the stairs.
"How did it go?" John asked as Sherlock stepped into the living room.
"Your son peed on me." He replied plopping Hamish down in front of his toys where he began to make an obscene amount of noise.
"Oh he's my son now because he peed on you?"
"Well he sure isn't mine after that stunt." He said turning to his husband, smiling at him. He felt a certain appreciation for John after the day he had had with Hamish. "I can't believe how hard it was." Sherlock said shaking his head. "Just getting him to eat was nearly impossible. I'm sorry I haven't helped you more with him."
John took his husbands hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently. "I know that I kind of forced you into the kid thing, and I know how busy you are with your cases, I just want him to know how much you love him. Because I know you do, I see how proud you are of him. I just wanted you to spend time with him, get to know him better."
"Oh I got to know him quite well today! Did you know that he could feed himself?"
"No kidding? He fed himself today? He's never done that before." John looked at their son, who was now stacking his multicolored blocks as high as he could reach, with such pride.
"You're amazing." Sherlock said to him, giving him a light kiss on the forehead. John was shocked by the compliment.
"So are you." He said burying his face in Sherlock's neck, kissing it lightly. He sighed closing his eyes, so content with the day. Sherlock's head rested on his. He nearly fell asleep like that when Hamish interrupted with a high-pitched squeal and accompanying laughter as he looked up lovingly at his fathers.
