Father's Day Fic? Apparently.
All right, so I have four or so challenge fics due, I think... but this plot bunny was too good to pass up. And it's total genfic. Surprise?
Title: Father's Day, 1981
Rating: PG
Warnings: Baby vomit.
Word Count: 418
Summary: James angsts over his Father's Day gift. Sirius is greatly amused.
Father's Day, 1981
"James, this is really nothing to get upset over." Sirius grinned, taking a washcloth out of the sink and handing it to his best friend.
James took the washcloth and began mopping it over his shirt, before throwing it back down in the sink. He stood up and pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it in the tub, and then sat down on the toilet seat cover, head in his hands. Lily’s voice drifted into the room; light and airy as she cooed at Harry, probably bouncing him up and down like she usually did whenever she held him. Sirius wondered why she still insisted on bouncing him.
Sirius sighed, "Mate -"
"Shut up, Sirius," James groaned, pulling at his hair.
"But it’s not a big deal, it’s just what babies do, James."
"He must hate me."
"That - that cute little bouncing bundle of poo?” Sirius asked, pretending to be incredulous. “Surely not. Harry doesn’t even know the meaning of hate, James. He’s a baby," Sirius assured him.
"You will not refer to my son as a bundle of poo -"
"Even if I’ve probably changed more diapers than you have," Sirius told him. "And those things are really - "
"Disgusting. Yes, I know. So is baby vomit. But he didn’t vomit on you, he just vomited all over me."
“Well, that must be how he shows he loves you then, since he’s too little to say it, hm?” Sirius put his hand on James’s shoulder. “Merlin, you’re ridiculous. Your son retches spectacularly all over your shirt, making you look pathetic when you’re complaining the night after getting drunk with me, and you only get upset. Lucky he has me as a godfather, you know. Since his father insists on being such an utter prat about the most amazing vomiting I’ve ever seen. You should be proud.”
James looked up, staring at Sirius, who still had that infuriating grin on his face. “You’re such -“
“An arse. Quite a handsome one at that, eh? Now go put on another shirt and stop your wife from bouncing him before Harry decides that he loves me too much not to show me the same affection he’s shown you.” James stood up, shaking his head but grinning, and Sirius shoved him towards the door.
Sirius stepped over to the bath as James went for another shirt. He picked up the dirty thing, holding it as far away from himself as he could manage, and whistled. “Amazing,” Sirius breathed, “Absolutely wicked.”
FIN
Though we're not telling him we wrote this, this fic is dubiously dedicated to my own father -who has been vomited over too many times to count when I was younger and deathly allergic to all sorts of milk.
Title: Father's Day, 1981
Rating: PG
Warnings: Baby vomit.
Word Count: 418
Summary: James angsts over his Father's Day gift. Sirius is greatly amused.
Father's Day, 1981
"James, this is really nothing to get upset over." Sirius grinned, taking a washcloth out of the sink and handing it to his best friend.
James took the washcloth and began mopping it over his shirt, before throwing it back down in the sink. He stood up and pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it in the tub, and then sat down on the toilet seat cover, head in his hands. Lily’s voice drifted into the room; light and airy as she cooed at Harry, probably bouncing him up and down like she usually did whenever she held him. Sirius wondered why she still insisted on bouncing him.
Sirius sighed, "Mate -"
"Shut up, Sirius," James groaned, pulling at his hair.
"But it’s not a big deal, it’s just what babies do, James."
"He must hate me."
"That - that cute little bouncing bundle of poo?” Sirius asked, pretending to be incredulous. “Surely not. Harry doesn’t even know the meaning of hate, James. He’s a baby," Sirius assured him.
"You will not refer to my son as a bundle of poo -"
"Even if I’ve probably changed more diapers than you have," Sirius told him. "And those things are really - "
"Disgusting. Yes, I know. So is baby vomit. But he didn’t vomit on you, he just vomited all over me."
“Well, that must be how he shows he loves you then, since he’s too little to say it, hm?” Sirius put his hand on James’s shoulder. “Merlin, you’re ridiculous. Your son retches spectacularly all over your shirt, making you look pathetic when you’re complaining the night after getting drunk with me, and you only get upset. Lucky he has me as a godfather, you know. Since his father insists on being such an utter prat about the most amazing vomiting I’ve ever seen. You should be proud.”
James looked up, staring at Sirius, who still had that infuriating grin on his face. “You’re such -“
“An arse. Quite a handsome one at that, eh? Now go put on another shirt and stop your wife from bouncing him before Harry decides that he loves me too much not to show me the same affection he’s shown you.” James stood up, shaking his head but grinning, and Sirius shoved him towards the door.
Sirius stepped over to the bath as James went for another shirt. He picked up the dirty thing, holding it as far away from himself as he could manage, and whistled. “Amazing,” Sirius breathed, “Absolutely wicked.”
FIN
Though we're not telling him we wrote this, this fic is dubiously dedicated to my own father -who has been vomited over too many times to count when I was younger and deathly allergic to all sorts of milk.