![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Travis and Travail Chapter 4
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks/Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mpreg
Word Count: 1,878
Summary: Travis becomes reflective, Violet gets mouthy(ier).
Author’s Note: Nothing of note to mention here. Just enjoy…
Contined from here.
Travis stirred and stretched, searching the darkness of the bedroom for whatever had woken him up. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the bedroom he shared with Wes, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing, he moved to the edges of the bed, hunting for a familiar pair of blue eyes. Shortly after he and Wes had disclosed the upcoming baby with the girls, Violet had taken to crawling into bed with them at approximately a quarter to two every morning. But there wasn’t any Violet by the bedside, big eyes begging in the moonlight.
So what the hell woke him up?
Chiding himself for being an irrational fool, Travis settled back onto his pillow. He had been reaching for Wes’ warm body when he felt it. Travis’ outstretched hand stilled, then, when the weird fluttering came again, his fingers flew to his belly. Wait, was that? No, it couldn’t be. But, what if it was?
“Wes,” he whispered, shaking the blond’s shoulder gently. “Wake up.”
Muttering, Wes rolled over and pulled the covers up to his chin.
“Sleepyhead,” Travis grinned, shaking Wes’ shoulder again. He gave it a little extra oomph this go ‘round. “Come on, baby. Wake up.”
“Mmmm,” Wes murmured, turning onto his back. “What’s the matter, Travis? You okay?”
Travis watched Wes rub his fists against his eyes, trying to contain his excitement. He could flip out and be over the moon in the morning when the girls were awake, but for now, he had to rein it in. “I’m fine,” he said, “but I think I felt the baby move.”
“Oh,” Wes sighed. “It’s about time. I was beginning to worry something was wrong.”
“Wait, why?” Travis scrubbed the palm of his hand across his chin. “Better question, why didn’t you say anything?”
Wes stretched, fingers reaching for the headboard. “I didn’t want to worry you. Every pregnancy is different and you’re a lot more active than I am generally. I figured that if you didn’t’ say something in the next few weeks, I’d suggest you ask the doctor.”
Travis’ hand rested lightly on his belly. “But I’m feeling her now, right?”
“Or him,” Wes reminded Travis. “It’s a weird, fluttery feeling right? Like butterflies on steroids in your belly? Yeah, that’s the baby. Took me days to figure out what I was feeling.”
A smile crossed Travis’ face. “Yeah, it woke me up and I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Does being active do something?”
Holding out his arms, Wes motioned for Travis to come snuggle. “No, not in the way you’re thinking. But the baby’s more active when you’re resting. You’ll notice it more later, as the kid gets bigger and you’re more inconvenienced by all those little movements.”
“Like Violet’s infamous feet to the ribcage move,” Travis asked, grinning.
“Or Bryony’s forehead to the spine takeout,” Wes laughed. “It won’t be long and you’ll get to experience all the glories of motherhood, Travis.”
“I can’t wait,” he said, only half meaning it. Truthfully, the longer this went on the more terrified he became. As fascinated and excited he was, there was always the lingering hint of terror. What if he did something wrong like forget and have a beer instead of orange juice with dinner? Or if he flopped too hard on his belly in the pool? The what-ifs kept coming and coming and sometimes, they kept him up at night because he had no answers. “How did you do this,” he whispered.
“You just take it one day at a time,” Wes mumbled, half asleep. “Stop worrying, you’re doing everything right.”
“Thank you baby,” he said into Wes’ shoulder, snuggling down for what he prayed was a few hours of sleep. “I just wish I was as certain as you are.”
“Mama,” Violet announced, making her way into the kitchen. “Papa got fat. What you feed him?”
Snorting, Wes stopped chopping celery and turned to his daughter. “First of all Violet, that’s not a very nice thing to say. Second, I’m not feeding him anything different than before. Your Papa’s having a baby, that’s why his belly has gotten so – um, bigger.” Wes barely escaped saying ‘so big’. He’d made that mistake the night before and the results hadn’t been pretty. Had he been that emotional? Probably so.
The little mini-Travis folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip out to the side. Violet’s attitude was more than he could handle some days and he feared for her teenage years. “No. He’s not having baby, Mama. Only mamas have babies, Dakota told me so.”
Oh good lord. Wes knew Dakota was only trying to help, but their situation was FUBARed to begin with. His having gotten pregnant only further fouled things up. Now that the mama genes had switched hands and Travis was the one expecting, Wes had no idea how to explain their relationship to anyone, their kids included. “Yes, he is. And while Dakota is correct, your Papa thought he would have the baby this time.”
That hadn’t exactly been how it happened, but Violet was not quite three years old yet and Wes didn’t think she needed all the details at that age. He’d be hard pressed to tell her the truth at thirty. Who would believe that one night of kinky experimentation between them had resulted in Travis getting knocked up instead of Wes? Not him, that much was for sure. But then, it wasn’t all that surprising since a completely drunken night had resulted in Violet in the first place.
“No,” she shouted and ran out of the kitchen.
Sighing, Wes put the knife down and followed her out of the kitchen. He found her crying in Travis’ lap, a look of utter confusion on his husband’s face. It broke his heart to see Marks so off balance since he was the one Wes relied on to keep things together in times of insanity. “She doesn’t believe me.”
“I see that,” Travis said, a small smile on his handsome face. “What do we do?”
“How’s the baby this afternoon?” Wes inclined his head towards Travis’ belly.
“Quiet, but she was starting to get feisty right before the Violet terror came storming in,” he replied.
“Lay down on your back,” Wes instructed. “Get Violet to lay by your side.”
Travis did as Wes asked, convincing Violet that nothing bad was about to happen. After a bit of vocal volleying, they convinced their older child to rest quietly by her Papa’s side. Wes climbed into bed on the other side of Travis and pressed his chest against Marks’ back. Slinging an arm around Travis’ middle, Wes rested a hand directly over his husband’s belly button.
“What now,” Travis asked, amusement tickling his voice. “Wait for Bryony to find us and pitch a fit because she wasn’t included?”
“Wrong child,” Wes laughed. “Bri will just climb up with us and find a spot. That one,” he said, pointing at Violet, “is the one who’d raise holy hell.”
“Good point,” Travis agreed. “But the question remains: what next?”
“Just relax,” Wes said, beginning to rub circles on Travis’ expanding stomach. “Let the baby figure out that you’re relaxing. The only way to convince her is to let her feel the baby move.”
“Like we did with Bri,” Travis said, the memory lighting his eyes.
“Exactly,” Wes said, closing his eyes and resting his head on Travis’ shoulder.
Wes wasn’t sure how long they’d laid there, half sleeping, half wakeful, when Bryony finally toddled into the bedroom, a sleepy expression on her face. With the aplomb only a toddler could possess, she wobbled and weaved her way onto the bed, coming to rest with her head against Wes’ back. She didn’t much care where she slept, as long as she could have contact with someone. Mama’s kneecap was her usual go-to, but today, she curled up against his back like a cat.
A subtle shift, then an abrupt movement on Travis’ behalf brought Wes back to wakefulness. Travis lifted his head and met Wes’ gaze, a giant grin on his face. “Hey Violet,” Travis said. “Wake up baby.”
Violet sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking at her Papa like he was nuts. Wes woke Bryony as well and helped her move around to sit on the bed in font of Travis, beside her sister. “Put your hands on Papa’s belly,” Wes told Violet. He took one of Bri’s hands in his own and helped her put them in the right spot. “Feel that?”
“Yeah,” Bryony breathed, eyes wide. She moved to put her hands back on Travis, but hesitated at the last second, looking at Wes for permission. At his nod, she tentatively pressed her fingers against his baby bulge and giggled with each movement.
Violet remained impassive. She pressed her hands against Travis’ belly, his large, dark hand resting against her back. For long moments, Wes and Travis watched her, waiting for the sudden outburst of anger or disbelief. When none seemed imminent, Wes breathed a small sigh of relief. Time passed and eventually those two young eyes, so much like the ones his husband possessed, turned on him, filled with wonder.
“Papa’s having a baby,” Violet stated more than asked. “I can feel the baby, just like with Baby Bri.”
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Travis said, pulling her small body against his. “Just like with Baby Bri and before, with Baby Vi, too.”
Violet’s nose scrunched up in concentration, one of the few things she’d gotten from her Mama genetically. “I not Baby Vi now,” she said, her face smoothing, eyes serious. “I’m big sister Vi.”
Travis’ laughter was full throated and filled the room. “That you are,” he said, looking at Wes and winking. “Your our big girl whose going to help Mama with Bri and the new baby, right?”
“Right,” Violet said with a sharp nod of her head, dark curls bouncing with the motion.
“Good girl,” Travis said. “Now where’s my little Bri Cheese?”
“Really, Travis,” Wes laughed. “Of all the things…”
“What can I say, I’m getting hungry,” he joked. Bryony crawled over to her Papa and fell against his side, curling into the warmth of her father and sister’s bodies.
Wes looped his arm around Travis’ middle again, fingers brushing against Violet’s dark curls and Bryony’s cheek. He never thought things could get any better than they had when he and Travis first became a family, but every day he was reminded how wrong he’d been. This, the way they were right now, was as perfect as a moment could get. The four – five – of them snuggled into a ball, drifting off to sleep, not a care in the world.
Until the baby kicked and Violet swore. “Damn baby hurt my belly.”
“She’s so dramatic,” Travis laughed, not helping the situation one tiny bit. “I don’t know how she even felt that.”
“Not nice, Vi-let,” Bryony said before Wes could scold her. That only made Travis laugh harder.
Perfect, Wes tried to remind himself. Everything was simply perfect. Violet was, Wes thought, Travis’ child and one thing he’d never been able to curtail was Marks’ swearing. Oh well. It could be so much worse than this.
Story continues here.
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Travis Marks/Wes Mitchell
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mpreg
Word Count: 1,878
Summary: Travis becomes reflective, Violet gets mouthy(ier).
Author’s Note: Nothing of note to mention here. Just enjoy…
Contined from here.
Travis stirred and stretched, searching the darkness of the bedroom for whatever had woken him up. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the bedroom he shared with Wes, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing, he moved to the edges of the bed, hunting for a familiar pair of blue eyes. Shortly after he and Wes had disclosed the upcoming baby with the girls, Violet had taken to crawling into bed with them at approximately a quarter to two every morning. But there wasn’t any Violet by the bedside, big eyes begging in the moonlight.
So what the hell woke him up?
Chiding himself for being an irrational fool, Travis settled back onto his pillow. He had been reaching for Wes’ warm body when he felt it. Travis’ outstretched hand stilled, then, when the weird fluttering came again, his fingers flew to his belly. Wait, was that? No, it couldn’t be. But, what if it was?
“Wes,” he whispered, shaking the blond’s shoulder gently. “Wake up.”
Muttering, Wes rolled over and pulled the covers up to his chin.
“Sleepyhead,” Travis grinned, shaking Wes’ shoulder again. He gave it a little extra oomph this go ‘round. “Come on, baby. Wake up.”
“Mmmm,” Wes murmured, turning onto his back. “What’s the matter, Travis? You okay?”
Travis watched Wes rub his fists against his eyes, trying to contain his excitement. He could flip out and be over the moon in the morning when the girls were awake, but for now, he had to rein it in. “I’m fine,” he said, “but I think I felt the baby move.”
“Oh,” Wes sighed. “It’s about time. I was beginning to worry something was wrong.”
“Wait, why?” Travis scrubbed the palm of his hand across his chin. “Better question, why didn’t you say anything?”
Wes stretched, fingers reaching for the headboard. “I didn’t want to worry you. Every pregnancy is different and you’re a lot more active than I am generally. I figured that if you didn’t’ say something in the next few weeks, I’d suggest you ask the doctor.”
Travis’ hand rested lightly on his belly. “But I’m feeling her now, right?”
“Or him,” Wes reminded Travis. “It’s a weird, fluttery feeling right? Like butterflies on steroids in your belly? Yeah, that’s the baby. Took me days to figure out what I was feeling.”
A smile crossed Travis’ face. “Yeah, it woke me up and I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Does being active do something?”
Holding out his arms, Wes motioned for Travis to come snuggle. “No, not in the way you’re thinking. But the baby’s more active when you’re resting. You’ll notice it more later, as the kid gets bigger and you’re more inconvenienced by all those little movements.”
“Like Violet’s infamous feet to the ribcage move,” Travis asked, grinning.
“Or Bryony’s forehead to the spine takeout,” Wes laughed. “It won’t be long and you’ll get to experience all the glories of motherhood, Travis.”
“I can’t wait,” he said, only half meaning it. Truthfully, the longer this went on the more terrified he became. As fascinated and excited he was, there was always the lingering hint of terror. What if he did something wrong like forget and have a beer instead of orange juice with dinner? Or if he flopped too hard on his belly in the pool? The what-ifs kept coming and coming and sometimes, they kept him up at night because he had no answers. “How did you do this,” he whispered.
“You just take it one day at a time,” Wes mumbled, half asleep. “Stop worrying, you’re doing everything right.”
“Thank you baby,” he said into Wes’ shoulder, snuggling down for what he prayed was a few hours of sleep. “I just wish I was as certain as you are.”
“Mama,” Violet announced, making her way into the kitchen. “Papa got fat. What you feed him?”
Snorting, Wes stopped chopping celery and turned to his daughter. “First of all Violet, that’s not a very nice thing to say. Second, I’m not feeding him anything different than before. Your Papa’s having a baby, that’s why his belly has gotten so – um, bigger.” Wes barely escaped saying ‘so big’. He’d made that mistake the night before and the results hadn’t been pretty. Had he been that emotional? Probably so.
The little mini-Travis folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip out to the side. Violet’s attitude was more than he could handle some days and he feared for her teenage years. “No. He’s not having baby, Mama. Only mamas have babies, Dakota told me so.”
Oh good lord. Wes knew Dakota was only trying to help, but their situation was FUBARed to begin with. His having gotten pregnant only further fouled things up. Now that the mama genes had switched hands and Travis was the one expecting, Wes had no idea how to explain their relationship to anyone, their kids included. “Yes, he is. And while Dakota is correct, your Papa thought he would have the baby this time.”
That hadn’t exactly been how it happened, but Violet was not quite three years old yet and Wes didn’t think she needed all the details at that age. He’d be hard pressed to tell her the truth at thirty. Who would believe that one night of kinky experimentation between them had resulted in Travis getting knocked up instead of Wes? Not him, that much was for sure. But then, it wasn’t all that surprising since a completely drunken night had resulted in Violet in the first place.
“No,” she shouted and ran out of the kitchen.
Sighing, Wes put the knife down and followed her out of the kitchen. He found her crying in Travis’ lap, a look of utter confusion on his husband’s face. It broke his heart to see Marks so off balance since he was the one Wes relied on to keep things together in times of insanity. “She doesn’t believe me.”
“I see that,” Travis said, a small smile on his handsome face. “What do we do?”
“How’s the baby this afternoon?” Wes inclined his head towards Travis’ belly.
“Quiet, but she was starting to get feisty right before the Violet terror came storming in,” he replied.
“Lay down on your back,” Wes instructed. “Get Violet to lay by your side.”
Travis did as Wes asked, convincing Violet that nothing bad was about to happen. After a bit of vocal volleying, they convinced their older child to rest quietly by her Papa’s side. Wes climbed into bed on the other side of Travis and pressed his chest against Marks’ back. Slinging an arm around Travis’ middle, Wes rested a hand directly over his husband’s belly button.
“What now,” Travis asked, amusement tickling his voice. “Wait for Bryony to find us and pitch a fit because she wasn’t included?”
“Wrong child,” Wes laughed. “Bri will just climb up with us and find a spot. That one,” he said, pointing at Violet, “is the one who’d raise holy hell.”
“Good point,” Travis agreed. “But the question remains: what next?”
“Just relax,” Wes said, beginning to rub circles on Travis’ expanding stomach. “Let the baby figure out that you’re relaxing. The only way to convince her is to let her feel the baby move.”
“Like we did with Bri,” Travis said, the memory lighting his eyes.
“Exactly,” Wes said, closing his eyes and resting his head on Travis’ shoulder.
Wes wasn’t sure how long they’d laid there, half sleeping, half wakeful, when Bryony finally toddled into the bedroom, a sleepy expression on her face. With the aplomb only a toddler could possess, she wobbled and weaved her way onto the bed, coming to rest with her head against Wes’ back. She didn’t much care where she slept, as long as she could have contact with someone. Mama’s kneecap was her usual go-to, but today, she curled up against his back like a cat.
A subtle shift, then an abrupt movement on Travis’ behalf brought Wes back to wakefulness. Travis lifted his head and met Wes’ gaze, a giant grin on his face. “Hey Violet,” Travis said. “Wake up baby.”
Violet sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking at her Papa like he was nuts. Wes woke Bryony as well and helped her move around to sit on the bed in font of Travis, beside her sister. “Put your hands on Papa’s belly,” Wes told Violet. He took one of Bri’s hands in his own and helped her put them in the right spot. “Feel that?”
“Yeah,” Bryony breathed, eyes wide. She moved to put her hands back on Travis, but hesitated at the last second, looking at Wes for permission. At his nod, she tentatively pressed her fingers against his baby bulge and giggled with each movement.
Violet remained impassive. She pressed her hands against Travis’ belly, his large, dark hand resting against her back. For long moments, Wes and Travis watched her, waiting for the sudden outburst of anger or disbelief. When none seemed imminent, Wes breathed a small sigh of relief. Time passed and eventually those two young eyes, so much like the ones his husband possessed, turned on him, filled with wonder.
“Papa’s having a baby,” Violet stated more than asked. “I can feel the baby, just like with Baby Bri.”
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Travis said, pulling her small body against his. “Just like with Baby Bri and before, with Baby Vi, too.”
Violet’s nose scrunched up in concentration, one of the few things she’d gotten from her Mama genetically. “I not Baby Vi now,” she said, her face smoothing, eyes serious. “I’m big sister Vi.”
Travis’ laughter was full throated and filled the room. “That you are,” he said, looking at Wes and winking. “Your our big girl whose going to help Mama with Bri and the new baby, right?”
“Right,” Violet said with a sharp nod of her head, dark curls bouncing with the motion.
“Good girl,” Travis said. “Now where’s my little Bri Cheese?”
“Really, Travis,” Wes laughed. “Of all the things…”
“What can I say, I’m getting hungry,” he joked. Bryony crawled over to her Papa and fell against his side, curling into the warmth of her father and sister’s bodies.
Wes looped his arm around Travis’ middle again, fingers brushing against Violet’s dark curls and Bryony’s cheek. He never thought things could get any better than they had when he and Travis first became a family, but every day he was reminded how wrong he’d been. This, the way they were right now, was as perfect as a moment could get. The four – five – of them snuggled into a ball, drifting off to sleep, not a care in the world.
Until the baby kicked and Violet swore. “Damn baby hurt my belly.”
“She’s so dramatic,” Travis laughed, not helping the situation one tiny bit. “I don’t know how she even felt that.”
“Not nice, Vi-let,” Bryony said before Wes could scold her. That only made Travis laugh harder.
Perfect, Wes tried to remind himself. Everything was simply perfect. Violet was, Wes thought, Travis’ child and one thing he’d never been able to curtail was Marks’ swearing. Oh well. It could be so much worse than this.
Story continues here.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-02-10 12:56 am (UTC)Heh. My kids are at the age where they have to curb me sometimes from the swearing. My little will raise his brows and say 'um, really, mom?' lol.
no subject
Date: 2016-02-10 07:06 pm (UTC)Hah - same here. Madison's always, "Mother! Language!" LOL That's probably because I rarely swear.