FIC: ST RPS -- Jordan Has Two Daddies (1/2)

[the_deep_magic]

Title: Jordan Has Two Daddies (1/2)
Author: the_deep_magic
Pairing: Pinto
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 15,900
Warnings: kid!fic, domesticity
Disclaimer: manifestly untrue
Summary: When Chris gets an unexpected new family member, he calls Zach for help.
A/N: written for the lovely and generous darlapr0duction, who won me for the Queensland auction.  Thanks for your patience, bb!  Also, endless gratitude to ewinfic for some much-needed feedback and cheerleading.  Carlos the Makeup Guy™ belongs to her.

“Okay, so, what’s this big surprise?” Zach asked, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.  He’d been just about to go out, looking forward to finally ending long self-imposed bout of celibacy, when Chris had called him, begging for his help.  Well, okay, maybe not total celibacy, but in New York he’d hardly had time to go out.  Well, not for the purposes of getting laid, anyway.

“Shhh!” Chris hissed at him as they walked toward the bedroom.

“What, is it sleeping?  Did you get a puppy?  You got a puppy, didn’t you?”

“I…” Chris looked confused.  “Kind of?  Well, no.”

He pushed open the door and Zach looked immediately toward the bed, half expecting to see a full-grown Newfoundland or St. Bernard or, hell, a pot-bellied pig.  But the bed was empty.  “Chris, what-”

Wordlessly, Chris pointed to the far side of the bed, where Zach saw…

A crib.

“No.  No no no.  No.”  Zach charged back out into the living room, shaking his head fiercely.  “You did not interrupt my evening and call me to help you babysit.”

Chris shut the door and said in a low voice, “No, I didn’t call you to help me babysit.  I called you because Jordan is… She’s…  Fuck me, I can’t even say it.”

“Say what?”

“She’s mine.”

“What?” Zach said, only it came out as more of a shriek, and Chris glanced back at the door with a terrified expression on his face.  After a few tense seconds without any startled crying, Zach got a hold of himself, or at least the pitch of his voice.  “You have a secret baby?  How could you not tell me you have a secret baby?”

“No, I don’t have a-”

“Or, oh god, was it a surprise baby?  Because apparently that happens.  Some women think they’ve got, like, food poisoning, but then they go to the hospital and BAM - baby.”

“She’s not a…  Well, okay, she’s a baby, and she was a surprise, but she’s not mine.  Or, well, she is now, but…”  Chris trailed off, looking nearly as shocked as Zach felt.

“Chris, spit it out.”

“You remember my buddy Sean from college?”

“The funeral you went to the other day?”

“Yeah, him and his wife.  Car wreck got both of them.”

Chris looked lost, utterly and completely overwhelmed, and Zach said “God, Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“I haven’t even had time to process it.  But remember last year, they invited me to Jordan’s christening and made me the godfather.  I thought it was just kind of a ceremonial thing, but evidently I signed something, not that I wasn’t willing to help out with, like, birthday parties or whatever, but now…”  Chris trailed off, gesturing back toward the bedroom.  “Baby.”

“How old is she?”

“Six months.”

“So, um,” Zach began, feeling increasingly awkward standing in Chris’ living room in his tightest Going Out jeans and shiny purple shirt.  “I get that this is, you know, a big deal.  But, uh… why did you call me again?”

“You like kids.  You’re good with kids.”

“I… guess.”

“You are!  You were so sweet to Jacob on set.”

“He was twelve years old, Chris, not an infant.”

Chris pouted.  He honest-to-god pouted.  “You said you wanted kids.  You told me you’d want to adopt.”

“Yes, someday.  Not tonight.  Tonight I just want…”  He’d really been looking forward to some good, old-fashioned anonymous - but safe - gay sex.  It was looking increasingly unlikely.

“Fine, then,” Chris said, gesturing dismissively.  “Go.”

Goddamn reverse psychology.  “Do you really need me, Chris?”

“I need somebody.  I’m not desperate enough to call my parents yet, and my sister’s got a baby of her own.”

“Fuck,” Zach sighed.  “Alright.  But get me some sweatpants.  I can’t really sit down in these.”

Chris glanced down, seeming to take in Zach’s outfit for the first time.  “Jesus.  Do you need some Crisco and a shoe horn?”

“I’m already in them, you ass.  Taking them off is much less of a problem.  That’s the whole idea.”

“Oh.  Ohhhhh,” Chris said, his eyes going wide.  “Uh, sorry about the timing, man.”

“That’s alright.  I know you didn’t end up with a baby just to ruin my night.”

“Okay, so what do we do first?”

“First: pants.”

“Oh, right.  What’s second?”

“Second, we each have a single shot of Patrón.  No more.”

“And third?”

“Third…” Zach sighed.  “Third, we make a list.”

&&&

“That is adorable,” Chris gushed.  “I want that one.”

“Those are so the older siblings don’t feel left out,” Zach explained, gazing evenly at Chris, who had just found a miniature Babies R Us shopping cart.  “Unless you want to carry Jordan around, I suggest you get a Big People cart so we can set her in it.”

“Always with the practicalities,” Chris sighed, going for a regular-size cart.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Zach said, carefully slipping Jordan into the fold-out seat.  “Just sit right here-”

She burst into tears.

“Shit,” muttered Zach.

“Zachary!  Not around the child!” Chris gasped, quite a bit too loudly.

“Okay,” Zach said behind gritted teeth, “first of all, she’s too young to remember that, and even if she weren’t, she couldn’t hear me over the screaming.”  He picked Jordan up again, tucking her against his shoulder and rubbing her back soothingly.

It didn’t work.  She only screamed louder and started in with the squirming until Zach was a little worried for his grip.

“Zach, let me take her,” Chris said, reaching out.  Zach carefully handed Jordan over, not letting go until he was certain Chris had her.  “Shhh, baby girl, it’s okay,” Chris cooed, bouncing her a little.  “We’re going to get you all the best stuff.  All the other babies are gonna be jealous of your awesome, uh, bedazzled diaper covers.  What do you think about that?”

Amazingly, Jordan’s sobs began to quiet, and as her breathing started to slow, she let out a loud hiccup.

“Awwwwww,” Zach and Chris said in unison.

And Jordan started wailing again.

It took all of Zach’s willpower not to start laughing at the stunned look on Chris’ face.  “C’mon, we need to get started.  I’m sure this isn’t an unusual event in this store.”

“They’re going to think I’m a bad parent,” Chris moaned, looking forlornly at Jordan, whose face was starting to turn a worrisome shade of red.

“Who’s going to think you’re a bad parent?”

“I don’t know, them.  Everyone.”

He glanced around nervously, and Zach let go of the cart to loop an arm around his shoulders and squeeze gently.  “Chris, this is your third day with a child.  Cut yourself some slack.”

“I guess,” Chris sighed.  Jordan sounded like she was starting to tire herself out.  Which was why both Zach and Chris were able to hear, clear as day, the fake-shutter sound of an iPhone camera.

“That’s not good, is it?” Chris asked, wincing hard.

“Shopping first,” Zach said, forging ahead.  “Then calls to publicists.”

&&&

Zach leaned over Chris’ shoulder to peer at the slightly-blurry picture on his computer screen.  “Aww, Jordan has two daddies.”

“You’re funny,” Chris groaned.  “Like a clown.  A dead clown.  In the gutter.”

“Hey, my publicist is more pissed than yours.”

“How is that possible?”

“Hot straight guy with a baby?  Adorable.  Hot gay guy with a baby?  Illegal in 13 states.”

Chris grinned.  “You just said I was hot.”

“I was speaking in generalities.”

“Eh, I’ll take it.”

“Chris, this is going to pass, I promise,” Zach sighed.  He looked over to the crib where Jordan was happily trying to cram a brightly-colored stuffed penguin into her mouth.  She gazed up at him and he couldn’t help it - he had to reach down and pick her up.  But when he did… “Uh, when was the last time you changed her?”

“Couple hours ago.  She need it again?”

Zach held Jordan out in front of him.  Good god, that was some kind of smell.  She looked oddly proud of herself.  “That’s a big yes.  But I’ll get it.  Where do you keep the stuff?”

“Guest room vanity,” Chris said, still frowning at his laptop screen.

Zach toted Jordan into the next room, where the top of an IKEA vanity had been covered by several layers of old beach towels.  They’d gotten Chris the essentials the other day, but hadn’t had time to look for furniture yet.  “Alright, sweet girl,” Zach said, laying her gently across the towels.  “Let’s check the damage.”

He unsnapped her onesie and pushed it up to reveal Jordan’s lower half swaddled in a cocoon of silvery-gray material.  “Chris,” he shouted over his shoulder, not quite able to believe what he was seeing.  “Did you duct tape the baby into her diaper?”

There was a long, guilty pause, then: “Maybe?”

“And why, pray tell, did you feel the need to-”

“Those stupid little sticky tabs stick to everything, including themselves,” Chris groaned, his voice growing louder as he walked toward the guest room.  “I had to improvise.  There are scissors in the top drawer.”

“You thought scissors were a good idea?”

“Better than the box-cutter, yeah.”  Chris rolled his eyes.  “C’mon, man, cut me some slack - I was really careful!”

Zach looked down at Jordan with deep pity.  Chris had better start saving up now, because if she somehow survived childhood, she was going to need some serious therapy.  “Okay, we’ll get around to your horrendous safety violations in a second.  First, do you want to hold or… cut?”

At least Chris had the good sense to look sheepish.  “Uh, how ‘bout I hold?”  He kept a hand on Jordan’s legs while Zach gingerly maneuvered the open scissor blades between the mass of duct tape and her skin.  He didn’t dare to even breathe.  Luckily, she didn’t seem to have any cuts or scrapes from previous barbarian diaper changes.  Still, he put the scissors away as quickly as he could when he was done.

Glancing at each other for support, Chris and Zach each grasped one side of the diaper.  “Are you used to this yet?” Zach asked.

“I’m pretty sure this is like working the homicide unit - if it doesn’t affect you, you’re not human.”

“Okay, let’s do this.  One, two…”

After a moment, Chris unwinced and stared at Zach.  “Where’s three?”

“I’m sorry.  I just froze.  I wasn’t ready for three.”

“I don’t think we’re ever really going to be ready for three.”

“I guess not,” Zach sighed.  “You know, I wasn’t even grossed out about this until I started thinking about it.  Why do we do this to children?  Force them to sit around in their own poop?”

“Because letting them go free range would put the carpet cleaning bills through the roof.  Now come on, this will only be soul-rendingly horrible for a minute.”

“Alright, for reals this time,” Zach said, taking a deep breath through his nose, which was perhaps not the best choice, given the ambient odor.  “One, two… three!”

&&&

Zach was starting to worry.  It had been nearly a week since they’d decided to spend some time apart for their publicists’ sake - after the picture had gotten out, there were paparazzi at Chris’ front door - and five days since he’d spoken with Chris.  Oh, they texted constantly, but Chris’ messages were getting shorter and less coherent.  Zach decided to call.

When Chris picked up, he was obviously trying to hide it, but Zach knew from the quiet little sniffle when he picked up the phone that Chris had been crying.

“’lo?”

“Chris?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Is Jordan okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, nothing like that.”

Something about the tone in his voice told Zach that Chris wanted him to keep pushing.  “What is it?”

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it.”

“Seriously, Chris, you can tell me.”

“Can’t,” he said pitifully, sounding like a five year old.  “You’ll make fun of me.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I will not.”  Zach waited.  And waited.

It only took a few moments for Chris to break.  “I know sometimes I’m kind of… emotional, but I’m not usually this bad, it’s just that Jordan still isn’t sleeping through the night and I’m so sleep-deprived I might actually be starting to hallucinate, which really wouldn’t be that bad except that I’m so tired I can’t even jerk off.”

“You… what?”

“I’ve never been too tired to jerk off.  Ever.  I didn’t even think such a state existed.  But I swear to god, last night I totally passed out on the bed with my dick in my hand.  And of course I couldn’t do anything about it in the morning, because Jordan woke up screaming around five-”

“Chris, hey, slow down, it’s…”  Zach wanted to say it was alright, but it wasn’t alright.  A man had a right to perform his basic bodily functions.  “I’m sorry, man.  That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, no sh-uh, crap.”

“You want me to come over there and give you a hand?”  Zach meant a hand with the baby - he really, really did - but once it was out, there was no way of taking it back.

Luckily, Chris just chuckled tiredly.  “If I thought there was any chance I’d stay awake through it, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

“You doing alright, man?  I mean, other than the… thing.” Sure, it was kind of a stupid question, but Zach was mostly trying to steer the conversation away from his accidental hand job offer.

Chris sighed so heavily that Zach could practically feel it on his own shoulders.  “Not great.  I mean, I’m not just upset about the wanking thing.  That was just sort of the last straw.  I was up with Jordan somewhere around three the other morning and it just kind of hit me: I’ve been thinking about this as temporary.  Like, everything will be alright when it goes back to the way it was before.  But it’s never going to go back to the way it was before, is it?  I know it’s selfish, but… I want it to.  I don’t know if I can do this.”

“It’s not selfish,” Zach said, tucking his legs up underneath him on the couch.  “Most parents have at least nine months to get used to the idea.  You got it all thrust upon you at once, and you didn’t even have time to process your friends’ death.  Is there… did Jordan’s parents have any other family?”

“Not for her to live with.  Sean was an only child and both his parents passed away.  I never got the full story on his wife, but I know she came from a really bad home and broke ties with everyone when she moved away.”

Zach gnawed on his lower lip.  “Well, since Jordan’s going to be with you for good…  You don’t have to do this by yourself.  Have you thought about hiring a nanny?”

“No,” Chris said quickly, “no nannies.  Not unless I absolutely have to when filming starts.  My parents were both actors and they raised me and Katie just fine.”

“Yeah, but they had each other to rely on.”

“What about your mom?  She mostly raised you and Joe by herself.”

“First of all, neither of us were infants at the time, and second, I don’t think my mother slept from the time I was seven years old until I left for college.  She might actually be superhuman.”

“I want to do this right, Zach.”

“I know you do, buddy,” Zach said softly.  His heart broke at the anguish in his friend’s voice.  “Tell you what, fuck the paparazzi - let me come over and watch Jordan for a while so you can get some sleep.”

A lengthy pause.  “You’d do that?”  He sounded so damned grateful, too, almost awestruck.

“Of course.”   Zach had plans to go out for drinks with some friends, but they were people he saw all the time anyway.  “Just try to stay awake for another half hour and I’ll be right over.”  Zach glanced around, formulating a plan.  “Better make it an hour, but I’ll let you sleep as long as you want.”

“I… I love you,” said Chris, and Zach knew he was being hyperbolical.  He did.  Still, it felt good.

&

The Chris who opened the front door looked like a zombified version of Zach’s friend.  A zombie Chris with splotches of baby puke down the front of his shirt.

“She’s in her crib,” Chris said, letting Zach in.  “She’s just quieted down, but she’s been really fussy for most of the day.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zach said, setting his bag down in the hall.  “Just get to bed.  Well, if you can stay upright for another ten minutes, take a shower.  Then go to bed.”

“Yeah, uh, sorry about this,” Chris said, stripping off his soiled shirt.

Zach struggled to keep his eyes on Chris’ face - even redolent of baby vomit, he was still too damn attractive for his own good.  “Hey, no judging here.”

Chris glanced down at Zach’s feet.  “What’s with the duffel?”

“Oh,” Zach muttered, looking away and scratching idly at the back of his neck.  “I thought… If you wanted me to, I might stay awhile, try to help you out some.  I took Noah over to Joe’s and Harold will be alright by himself for a couple of days, so if you don’t mind, I thought I’d-ooooof.”

Zach nearly got the wind knocked out of him when Chris threw his arms wide and flung himself at Zach, wrapping around him like an octopus.  Completely unsure what to do with an armload of topless, sleep-deprived Chris, Zach patted him gently on the back.

“Seriously, dude, shower.”

&&&

“I can deal with your occasional little man-dates.  I can even spin this whole ‘two men and a baby’ thing you’ve got going on, because it’s the kind of thing that makes ovaries explode all over the place.  What I cannot explain away, however, is you showing up on his doorstep with a g-damn duffel bag like it’s an effing sleepover!”

She actually said “g-damn” and “effing” - from what Zach could gather, her yogi had said something about reducing her stress levels, and fake cursing was supposed to help that somehow.  Zach had found it pretty hilarious - up until now, when he’d rather just throw the phone through the wall.  “Look, Stacy, I’m-”

“Don’t you friggin’ dare tell me you’re sorry, Zach,” she snapped, then sighed wearily.  “I know we haven’t talked about this in a while, but do you want to come out?  I’m not saying it’s the best option, I’m just saying that if it happens, we want to be the ones in control of it, not some mothereffing c-word of a paparazzo.”

“I…” Zach started quietly, pinching at the bridge of his nose.  It would be so much easier if… But then… No, this wasn’t a decision he could make now.  He’d been putting it off for years - no need to try to deal with it now.  Not with everything else that was going on.  “No, not yet.”

He got Stacy off the phone with a promise “not to do something so flipping bull-headed” again.  He still had a dozen or so text messages to deal with, but he shut his phone off and stuffed it in his pocket.  He needed a minute to think, that’s all-

And that was all he got before Jordan started wailing from the other room.  Zach shut his eyes, silently willing Chris to go see to her, but no sooner did he think it than he heard, “Zach, could you go take care of her?  I’m in the middle of something.”

Zach knew he should do it.  But instead, he yelled, “What’s so important that you can’t get her?”

Jordan was crying louder now, and Chris had to raise his voice even more.  “Zach, please, I’ve been with her all day.  Just give me five more minutes.”

Zach very nearly retorted, yeah, well, she’s your kid, but he stopped himself just in time.  He pushed up off the couch - Chris owed him big for this.  He’d been slowly cultivating a bitch of a headache since answering the phone, and the baby’s crying was like an icepick in his temple.

Jordan didn’t quiet down when Zach picked her up, not even after a few moments of soothing whispers and gentle bouncing.  He sniffed her lower half with undiminished trepidation, but no, she didn’t need a change.  “You hungry, baby girl?” he asked and got a few sulky whimpers in response.  “I guess that’s a yes.”

When he returned to the living room, he nearly ran smack into Chris, who was carrying a full bottle.  “Sorry,” Chris says, rubbing tiredly at one eye.  “You’re right, she’s my responsibility.  I’ll take her.”

He didn’t look quite as wrecked as he had at the beginning of the weekend, but it was obviously going to take more than two nights’ sleep to get rid of those circles under his eyes.  It was finally starting to sink in for Zach, too - my friend has a kid.  Fuck it, he was already here; he might as well make the pap pictures worth it.  “No, here, I’ll feed her,” he said, taking the bottle and heading back to the couch.

With Jordan cradled gently in his arm, Zach gave her the bottle, which she eagerly clutched and drank.  He heard Chris bustling around behind him for a few moments, still in the room but silent.  Perhaps he thought Zach was still irritated with him.  “When does she start eating solid food?” he asked by way of a peace offering.

“Pretty soon,” Chris said.  “I’ve already tried a little bit of apple puree.  It wasn’t a big hit, but my mom says she should be just about ready for baby food.”

“Huh,” Zach muttered, for lack of anything intelligent to say.  He liked kids, but when it came to actually raising them, he was beginning to realize just how clueless he really was.

Luckily, Chris changed the subject.  “Were you talking to Stacy just then?”

Still, not a great subject.  “Yeah.”

“I can tell whenever you’re on the phone with her, you start sounding like a scolded kid.   I know because I’m the exact same way.  ‘Yes, Gerry.  Whatever you say, Gerry.  I’ll do better next time, Gerry.’”

Zach sighed, relaxing back into the couch.  Jordan was nearly finished with the bottle.  “When did we turn over control of our lives to a team of handlers?”

“Round about the time we put on our Starfleet uniforms, I think,” Chris said.  Zach could tell he was trying to keep his voice light, but sometimes he wondered if Chris ever regretted being thrust into the spotlight so quickly.  Even though Zach had had a little more preparation, there were still days when he wondered, what if I was never Spock?  Where would I be now?

Well, he certainly would never have predicted that that particular career move would result in him gently putting his friend’s adopted baby over his shoulder and patting her back until she burped.

“You want me to take her?” Chris asked.

“Actually, I think I’ll hold her for a bit,” Zach said.  Jordan was nestling in against Zach’s shoulder, and it felt right to just keep her there.  “She’s so… warm.”

It wasn’t quite as eloquent as whatever it was he meant to say, but Chris chuckled anyway.  “I know.  She’s like a little baby-shaped heater.  It’s great now, but just wait until summer.”

Zach smiled, closing his eyes and letting himself sink deeper into the couch.  His headache had abated since Jordan had quieted down, but it was still throbbing just behind his left eyebrow.  “Chris, have you got any Tylenol?”

“Headache?”

“Yeah.”

“Actually, I think I’m out.  But, uh…”  Chris trailed off, and suddenly, Zach felt fingers combing through his hair, massaging his scalp.

He opened his eyes and tipped his head back, looking straight up at Chris with a quizzical expression.

Chris looked oddly nervous, though it could be just because Zach was looking at him upside down.  He shrugged.  “Just something my mom used to do when I got a headache.  Too weird?”

“Um, no.  Feels kind of good, actually.”  Had Zach ever mentioned to Chris how much he liked having his hair played with?  He didn’t think so.  But Chris dug his fingers right back into Zach’s hair, no hesitation at all.  He even tugged a little, just the way Zach liked, and it took a stupendous amount of effort to hold back a moan.

Chris didn’t seem to notice, just went on carding his fingers through Zach’s hair and rubbing the pads of his fingers in firm circles against Zach’s scalp.  It was heaven; Zach felt his headache slipping away like an ebbing tide.  It wasn’t quite enough to get him hard - and the warm, innocent weight on his shoulder made him glad of that - but his pants definitely felt a little tighter.  He took a few deep breaths, willing himself to experience Chris’ hands as relaxing, rather than arousing.

As Jordan settled against him and Chris’ magical fingers in his hair relaxed him further, Zach began to doze lightly.  He only came back to alertness when the talented hands left his scalp.  He almost whined for them back, but Chris had to have been rubbing his head for at least 20 minutes now, and surely his fingers were tired.

Zach closed his eyes again and felt the couch dip beside him, Chris sitting close enough that Zach could feel the heat from his body.  “I don’t guess I’ve thanked you yet,” he murmured.  “I really was about to lose my mind.  I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

But Zach heard the question Chris didn’t want to, or couldn’t, ask.  “I need to check my calendar, but I think I could probably come over here a few nights a week, watch Jordan for a little while so you can get some rest.  Or go out, or whatever.”

Chris was silent for so long that Zach finally opened his eyes and looked over at Chris, whose eyes were wide like he wasn’t quite sure he could believe what he was hearing.  “You’d do that?” he whispered.

“Sure.  I don’t have another big time commitment ‘til Trek.  It’s mostly Before the Door stuff, and I can always play the big bad producer card to shift the schedule around a little bit.”

“I could kiss you right now,” Chris said with surprising sincerity.  “I won’t, ‘cause it’ll wake the baby.  But I just want you to know that I could.”

“Uh, yeah, no kissing necessary,” Zach said, smiling a little awkwardly.  “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

&&&

From there, they fell into a domestic routine almost disturbingly quickly.  Chris was able to stay home most of the day.  He’d been able to back out of the Jack Ryan project - apparently, with all the script changes his contract wasn’t set in stone, and he’d had the somewhat manipulative but effective foresight to bring Jordan along to the meeting with the lawyers.  Zach was working on another short film with Victor, but he could set most of his own hours, so he was able to keep his word and watch Jordan and let Chris have some time to himself in the evenings.

But after the first two or three nights of driving back to his place late, after Jordan had been put to bed and he and Chris finished talking and having a glass or three of wine, Zach figured it would probably be more efficient just to stay the night at Chris’.  After all, it wasn’t that far away, and Noah loved staying with Uncle Joe, who spoiled the hell out of him with freshly-cooked marrow bones all the time.  Bridgit was willing to take Harold, and it was one less thing for Zach to worry about.

On one of Zach’s rare afternoons off when Chris wasn’t either exhausted or itching to get out of the house, they spread a blanket on the carpet, surrounded Jordan with her favorite toys, and joined her on the floor.  Chris was currently stretched out on his stomach, chin on his hands, gazing at Jordan with an expression of awe that Zach hadn’t seen on his face since… well, maybe ever.

“Look at her hands,” Chris sighed.  Zach looked at Jordan’s chubby little fingers clasped around the handset of a plastic telephone, which she was presently taste-testing.  But Chris was looking at her like she was painting the Sistine Chapel.  “Just look at them.  They’re like normal hands, only… tiny.  Just perfect little miniature hands.”

Zach refrained from commenting to the effect that babies pretty much had miniature everything, since Chris seemed so blissfully content at the moment, and it filled Zach with a calm sort of satisfaction.  In fact, Zach was watching Chris much more intently than Jordan.

“Look, look, she’s dialing!” Chris said, pointing at Jordan’s other hand mashing the buttons.   “Hey, go easy on the long distance calls, sweetie.  By the time you get to Berkeley, I’m not sure even Daddy’s bank account is gonna cover the tuition.”

“Berkeley, huh?” Zach teased.  “She’s not going to make it in to Stanford?”

“She’ll get in, but she’s going to turn them down, because they’re a bunch of self-important, elitist a-holes.  Aren’t they, Jordan?  Aren’t they a bunch of a-holes?”

“Wait, that doesn’t count as a swear?”

“Not on primetime TV.”

They fell silent as Jordan began a steady stream of babbling, and Zach knew Chris was listening intently for a “da-da” in there somewhere.  Then it occurred to him.  “Hey, Chris.”

“Mmm?”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you call yourself her dad.”

Chris beamed, a light flush spreading across his cheeks.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

&&&

They’d had to work out a way around the paparazzi from the very beginning.  For the first week, Chris insisted that Zach park at least two blocks away and never walk straight to Chris’ apartment from his car.  It got them into their first real, loud argument since Trek filming, which stopped only when Jordan woke up crying in the other room.  But the more Zach thought about it, the more it made sense.  Yes, it was a lot for Chris to ask of him, especially on top of all the other ways he’d rearranged his time to help Chris out, but it had to be done if they wanted to avoid another situation like the Great Duffel Bag Affair.

Fortunately - for them - Paris and Nicole started to have loud arguments in public again, and Charlie Sheen was hospitalized.  Zach was pretty sure his karma took a serious hit from being so glad that a fellow human being had overdosed on cocaine, but the guy did seem to be made of tiger blood - he had regained conscious and was already sexually harassing his nurses, if the gossips sites were to be believed.

The world at large already knew that Chris had adopted a child - he’d released a statement to that effect - though the circumstances surrounding the adoption had largely been kept out of the press on Chris’ insistence.  Of course, that left everyone free to speculate on where, exactly, Jordan had come from.

“Hey, Zach, did you know I took a secret trip to Belarus and kidnapped a former Communist orphan?”

“Wow, she’s already a former Communist?” Zach said, peeking over the top of his laptop to where Chris sat at on the couch.  “I’m impressed.  Most children her age are still uncommitted to a particular economic system, and yet she’s on her second.  At least.”

“She is very advanced.”

“I have no doubt.  Though I heard you bought her from a single mother through the Mexican black market.”

“Ooh, how exciting,” Chris cooed, bending over to stick his hand in Jordan’s playpen and rattle a toy in front of her delighted face.  “Who’s my little black market baby?  Is it you?  Is it you?”

Zach continued going through his e-mail, replying vaguely to a few friends who wondered where he’d been for the past few weeks.   He didn’t lie, exactly, just told them he’d been busy, and that he was going to continue to be busy for a while.  Jordan had recently started teething, and Zach certainly wasn’t going to leave Chris to deal with that by himself.  The exhaustion of taking care of a baby was now divided evenly between the two of them (well, maybe more like 60-40, since Chris was usually the one who tended to her during the night), but it still meant that neither of them were exactly free to pursue actual social lives.

A new message from Zoe popped up with the subject line “You probably want to see this.”  Zach didn’t think anything of it until he clicked on the link.  It took him to the Facebook page of somebody he didn’t know, but there were pictures of him from his trip to Costco two days ago, trying to load a jumbo box of diapers into the frustratingly-small trunk of his Lexus.  There was a whole series of pictures, complete with commentary on the admittedly slapstick methods Zach had used to get the box to fit, but it ended with the speculation “Hmm, wonder where Zach is taking those diapers?  Anyone he knows have a baby recently?  Or adopt a baby?  Wonder who’s the mommy and who’s the daddy…”

Lord knew where Zoe had found the link to those pictures, but luckily, they didn’t seem to have been picked up by any of the gossip sites.  Yet.  But he must have made some type of noise when he saw them, because Chris was already off the couch and coming over to him.  “What is it?”

Zach considered trying to hide them, but Chris would just keep pestering him until he found out.  “Zoe found these,” he said carefully.  “But I don’t think anyone else knows about them yet.”

He watched Chris’ face carefully as the other man scanned the pictures.  Chris’ mouth tightened, his eyes narrowing.  “Zach,” he said in an exasperated tone.

Zach felt a hot bubble of anger rise through his gut.  What did Chris expect from him?  He hadn’t wanted to have his picture taken there.  Just because he dealt with this kind of thing better than Chris did didn’t mean that he liked it.  “What?”

“You didn’t notice somebody taking your picture?”

“No, Chris, I didn’t,” Zach spat.  “I was too busy buying diapers for you.”  And paying for them myself, he thought, but it sounded too petty even to say.

“You couldn’t-” Chris began, raising his voice, but stopping when he looked down at the playpen.  “You couldn’t take a quick look around to see that the coast was clear?”

“What do you expect me to do, analyze every person I see every time I leave the house?  This kind of thing is going to happen, especially while I’m helping you out.”

Chris glared at him, and for a second, Zach wondered if he’d gone too far - that last bit almost sounded like a passive-aggressive threat to leave.  But then Chris relented, sighing and rubbing his eyes.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not you I’m mad at,” Chris said, and the burning in Zach’s stomach began to dissipate.  “God knows I have more important things to worry about.  I just… want to be left alone, y’know?”

Zach knew, of course.  Especially now that there was a child involved, Chris had every right to want to conduct his life in private.  But the publicity machine wasn’t going to change any time soon.  “Look, let’s just start by contacting this girl and asking her nicely to take the pictures down.”

Chris rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, ‘cause that’ll work.”

“Chris, she’s a fan, not a professional photographer.  I’ve done that before, and it usually works.”

“What, seriously?”

“Not everyone’s out to get you,” Zach said, trying to make it sound as gentle as possible.

“Way to make me sound like a paranoiac,” Chris sighed, slumping down over the back of the couch to lean with his elbows on Zach’s shoulders, his chin resting on the top of Zach’s head.

Chris had always been a tactile kind of guy, the kind that gave big, ridiculous bear hugs instead of handshakes, but something about caring for a child must have made him even more physically affectionate, Zach mused.  Zach tried to remember if he’d seen Chris act like this around anyone else, but for the past few weeks, it had largely been just the two of them.  And Jordan, of course.

Zach reached up and rubbed Chris’ arm gently.  “You’re dealing with this really well, all things considered.”

Chris laughed bitterly, and Zach could feel his warm breath rustle his hair.  “You mean I’m doing great because I’m not actually screaming and throwing things?”

“I mean you’re doing great in general.  Just look at Jordan.  See how happy she looks.”

In her playpen, Jordan was on her back, swatting at the brightly colored plastic stars dangling from a rod above her.  When she smacked one so hard it flipped back over the bar and swung crazily, she giggled and squirmed with delight.

“She does look happy,” Chris murmured, his voice so low and close to Zach’s ear that Zach shivered a little.

“And how about you?” Zach asked, trying to keep his voice even.

“How about me?”

“Are you happy?”

Zach felt Chris take a slow, deep breath.  “I’m tired.  But I’m… content.”

Before he could think better of it, Zach asked, “And in the, uh, self-gratification department?”  Zach himself had managed to pass out mid-wank just last week - it was truly a sorry state of affairs.

That made Chris stand back up, taking his weight and his warmth away from Zach.  “Ugh, I still can’t believe I told you that.  But, um, there could still stand to be improvement.  In that department.  Oh god, I’m shutting up now.”

With that, he left the room.  Zach watched him go, wondering if he imagined the way Chris’ hand seemed to sneak around to subtly tug at the front of his own pants.  Then Zach did the same.

&&&

When Zach’s eyes cracked open, it was dark, some ungodly hour of the morning, and his arm was asleep where it was wedged between the cushions of Chris’ couch.  God help him, he was already attuned to the sound of Jordan’s cries, and he was about to stand up when he heard Chris muttering to himself and shuffling down the hallway.  Jordan had finally been starting to sleep through the night, but obviously this wasn’t one of them.  From the sound of the cries, she must have started cutting another tooth.

Zach collapsed back to the couch, his eyelids too heavy to keep open, but only drowsed.  The clock read 2:49 - god help him if he was already at an age where he couldn’t fall asleep once woken.  Eventually, he heard Chris’ footsteps go into the kitchen and a hollow thump that was probably him tossing the teething ring into the sink to be washed and put back in the freezer. Zach must have dropped off slightly because the next thing he knew, Chris was nudging at Zach’s legs with his knee.  “Scootch.”

“No.”

“Scootch.”

“Go sleep in your bed.”

“Bed is there.  Couch is here.”

The words how eloquent floated through Zach’s head, but what came out of his mouth sounded more like “Flmbl,” which did nothing to stop Chris from climbing onto the couch and plopping down mostly atop Zach, his nose pressed into Zach’s neck.

“Chr’ssssss,” he groaned, shifting against the stifling hot weight of Chris’ body draped across him, but Chris only hummed contentedly and wriggled in closer, shoving something hot and stiffening against Zach’s thigh.

Huh.

Zach could hardly blame him.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d successfully jerked off, let alone the last time he’d gotten laid - it had to be even longer for Chris.  The pressure of a hard, warm body against Zach’s own cut his forebrain entirely out of the loop, making his nerves sing yes, more.

Chris was obviously feeling the same thing, because he was rocking slowly against Zach’s leg.  Zach managed to hold out until Chris’ mouth opened against his neck, lips smearing hot and wet against his skin.  It was barely anything, but it flooded Zach’s fatigued brain with endorphins.  For a few moments, he tried to fight it, remain still under Chris.  Maybe he should have thought it through more, worried about taking advantage of Chris’ obviously exhausted state, but it was just too good, too simple to dissect.  He’d freak out about it later.

Getting off was the farthest thing from Zach’s mind - his body couldn’t even work up the blood pressure needed to get fully hard, but just rubbing his semi up against Chris’ hip felt better than he could remember anything ever feeling before, ever.  Chris’ lips were slowly dragging up Zach’s jaw, and Zach instinctively tilted his head down, and then their mouths were pressed together.

It was hardly even a kiss, just lips rubbing against lips with the stuttering motions of their bodies, but the heat of Chris’ breath seemed to warm Zach all over.  With focus, he managed to move his lips, put a little bit of tension into the muscles of his mouth and turn it into an actual kiss.  There was simply no thought in Zach’s head that Chris wouldn’t respond, and he did, pressing in with intent and mouthing at Zach’s lower lip with a soft sigh.

Zach didn’t remember pulling back or stopping, but somewhere between their warm little haven on the couch and the light of morning, sleep gently reached out and claimed him.

&

The next morning, Zach got up, changed Jordan, and started in on breakfast before he remembered.  Chris had obviously stumbled back to his own room at some point during the night, and when Zach heard him stirring in the other room, he actually stood frozen for so long that the eggs burned into a foul-smelling brown lump in the pan.  Zach quickly scraped them down the garbage disposal and started again.

Chris wandered into the kitchen, idly scratching his belly, and headed straight for the refrigerator.  “Morning,” he grunted, pulling a carton of orange juice from the fridge, shaking it to stir up the pulp, and then drinking it straight from the carton.  Zach would have admonished him if he hadn’t been focusing all his energy on remaining upright.  And not ruining the eggs again.

Zach nearly jumped when Chris plunked the carton back on the counter with a suspiciously hollow sound.  “We’re, uh, out of juice.  Sorry.”

“That’s alright.  I’m not a fan of backwash in the morning, anyway,” Zach said stiffly, pulling the pan off the burner but still not daring to turn and look at Chris.  Did he not remember?

Chris snorted.  “I’ll pick some up this afternoon.  You need anything else?”

“Yeah, get me some of those pretzels shaped like lighthouses.  And butt wipes.  We’re running low on those.”

“For you or the baby?”

“Funny,” Zach said, carefully dividing the eggs on to two plates.  But nothing in Chris’ tone suggested anything other than their normal banter.  “Just get the industrial-sized box this time.”

“Roger.  Thanks for breakfast.  I’ll be sure to stock up on those freezer lasagnas you like.”

So that was Zach’s life now.  But though they talked about just about everything else, Chris never brought up what had happened at 2:49 am.  It was apparently only Zach who felt awkward about it, because Chris was acting so normally and everything was going so smoothly that Zach didn’t dare bring it up.  He was beginning to think he’d dreamt the whole thing.

Until, of course, it happened again.  This time, he was going for a drink in the middle of the night, and on his way back, as he passed Chris’ room, he heard a slightly whiny “Zaaaaaaach.”

“What?”

“C’mere.”

“Why?”

“Just c’mere.”

When he’d stumbled through the darkened room to Chris’ bed, the other man reached up and, with surprising strength, yanked Zach down onto the mattress.  He collapsed on top of Chris, but neither made a move to separate, and soon he felt Chris’ hips start to circle slowly up against his own, along with a deep, contented sigh that ruffled through his sleep-rumpled hair.

After a truly half-hearted attempt to remain still, Zach began to move at a counterpoint to Chris, sluggish presses of his hips that made his lower belly fizz with gentle warmth.  Though he was already nearing sleep, he had a moment to regret that his mouth wasn’t near enough to Chris’ for another almost-kiss, but, as though Chris could hear his thoughts, he turned his head slightly so that his lips brushed against Zach’s hairline.  Together, they rocked gently to sleep.

When Zach woke up the next morning, he was once again alone, but this time he was in Chris’ bed and he could smell bacon frying in the kitchen.  He padded out carefully to find Jordan in her high chair in the kitchen, Chris talking softly to her from the stove.

“…try the strained pears again today.  I know they’re not your favorite, but they’re better than the carrots.  I’m sorry you’re not quite ready for bacon yet.  Why don’t they make strained bacon?”

Zach couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Chris, think that through.  Strained bacon would be disgusting.”

Chris only jumped a little bit.  “Dude, don’t sneak up on me during bacon time.  I could accidentally flip grease everywhere, give myself third degree burns on my face.”

“Not the moneymaker!”

“You see?  I have a child to provide for now.  I have to protect my assets.”

Zach opened his mouth to make an “assets” joke, but he was afraid that might somehow lead into an awkward discussion of what they’d been doing at night.  Plus, it was significantly harder to make ass jokes with a baby staring at him.  Huh, who knew?

This… thing between them, whatever it was, seemed so completely divorced from their normal day-to-day life that no matter how odd Zach felt the next morning, he couldn’t seem to find the words to bring up the subject in the light of day.  It was like a secret they were keeping, even from themselves, and it was such a sweet little secret that Zach, for as much as he liked to think of himself as a self-aware human being, wouldn’t let himself question it.  Didn’t they both deserve something good?

Continue to part two