2020-05-25 17:23 (UTC)
jalenstrix: (Default)
- Posted by [personal profile] jalenstrix
Word count: 462
Drabble:

I opened the nursery door, and the volume of Feanor’s wailing promptly tripled.

Jareth sat hunched over the playmat, rubbing gentle circles on his son’s back. Feanor seemed singularly unfazed, and continued expressing his displeasure, beating his tiny fists against the ground for emphasis.

My eardrums already hurt. Who knew how long this had been going on? “Tough afternoon?”

Jareth’s shoulders twitched in a single, elegant motion that let me admire the sleek lines of his back. Even startled from behind, the man had grace, and that was a fact. His voice rippled across me like velvet, ragged and hollow though it sounded. “I have tried holding him, I have tried feeding him, I have tried changing his diaper. Several times. I have tried putting him down for a nap and rocking him on my knees. But…” He gestured at our still-wailing son.

I knelt down next to Jareth in parental solidarity. “I told you he could be teething, honey.”

He held up a finger. “I have tried every single rubber and gel teether contraption in this accursed place. I have tried rubbing his gums. I have tried baby-safe ungents. For hours, I have tried these things.”

“Have you tried the frozen washcloth?”

His entire body went motionless. “The what?”

I reached a hand into my bag of holding (a nifty bit of magic I had never — not once — regretted sinking months of preparation, wheedling, and a swartalf-owed favor into). After a moment, my fingers slid across the mini-freezer handle and I rummaged inside until I found the necessary object. “The frozen washcloth. One baby washcloth dipped in water till damp, and frozen.”

I placed the washcloth next to Feanor’s mouth. He chomped down on it, paused, then grabbed it with both fists and shoved it in his mouth. Distinctive slurping sounds followed, which could be heard in the sudden silence.

Jareth slumped forward.

I began to massage his back. “I know. It can be rough. But I love you. You’re the best father Feanor has.”

Dry laughter rumbled beneath my fingers. “Silly woman. I’m the only father Feanor has.”

“And definitely the best one.”

Dexterous fingers grabbed mine and slid them around to his mouth. “A massage is very nice, my love,” he whispered. “But I could use relaxation methods that are more...vigorous.” He kissed the sensitive skin between my fingers.

I glanced down at Feanor. “You’re in luck. Our son has just tuckered himself right out. I bet we can sneak out while he’s sleeping.”

“This is an excellent idea.”

“I’m just full of them this afternoon.”

“Oh really? Perhaps you have others?” He nuzzled the back of my hand, sliding heat down the length of it.

I shivered. “Oh yes. Wanna come find out?”

“Oh yes.”
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