One night, on Facebook, someone demanded a bedtime story. I wrote this on my phone while the kid played Minecraft next to me on the back deck.
In which the author shamelessly hints at shit ze has no intention of writing soon, if ever. (This would be a good time to say I’m pro-fanfiction: go to it, y’all!)
When Hugh was a child, his mother told him bedtime stories. It took him years to realize she was retelling him Star Wars in small vignettes.
“Once they were in a bar and a challenge was made. But you know how badly Han Solo responded to challenges…”
Thirty years later, he told the story to Truman and Will over espresso while walking down the street, and the two of them exchanged a glance he couldn’t read.
“Forgive me. I’m not sure why I’m thinking about that.” He felt strangely abashed.
“Because we were talking about Star Wars earlier,” Will said easily, linking arms. “Can I ask you something random?”
“Of course. Always.”
“Did you really never want to be a dad?”
“A dad?” he echoed, buying time.
“Yeah. Because I think about it sometimes, you know?”
Hugh looked over, studying Will’s profile. He wished they were in the library, so he could see both Will and Truman at once. “I was under the impression you didn’t want children.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s more… I don’t want to have a kid by myself. And Moll and I don’t want kids. But I still think about it sometimes. Don’t you?”
Will’s eyes picked up the setting sun, glinting at him.
“I didn’t have a father. I may not…have a context for that desire.”
“I always wanted a family,” Truman said. “A partner, children.”
“Me too. I mean, when I was a kid. That’s how I pictured it.” Will squeezed his arm. “What did you picture, when you were little? When Cordelia was telling you Star Wars stories?”
What had he pictured? He’d pictured himself in the house, always. With children, yes, though that vision was so old it was crinkled at the edges. He had forgotten about it. Or perhaps overwritten it with fantasies that seemed more attainable.
“A long time ago, maybe. When I was very young.”
“You wanted to be a dad?”
So bald. So very inescapable, when asked like that.
“I suppose I must have. I imagined children climbing the stairs at the house. Strange thing to remember. But not in years, Will. Not as an adult.”
Will squeezed again. “You’d be a good dad.”
“Thank you.” They’d reached the car, but Truman went to the driver’s side, so Hugh rode passenger.
“Anyway, I’d totally tell Star Wars stories to a kid, if I had one. But not fucking Trek.” Will’s door slammed shut. Hugh, buckling his seat belt, was unprepared for Will’s arms to close around him. “Love you.”
“I love you, too,” Hugh said. He glanced at Truman, trying to understand the currents he was missing, but instead he noted the line in Truman’s forehead as he waited for traffic to clear so he could pull out.
Truman, whose face was older than it has been when they met. Whose voice Hugh knew in every register. Whose dreams he thought he knew. It was hardly surprising that Truman had imagined a family. He’d be an incredible father.
An incredible, perhaps transcendent father.
Hugh gripped Will’s arm for a moment. “I love you both very much,” Hugh said.
“We love you too,” Truman said, as if it was something they’d discussed. Knowing them, they probably had.
They’d discussed him. They’d discussed this, whatever this was.
“Are you two up to something?” Hugh asked belatedly.
Will laughed. Truman looked over and grinned.
“Nah.” Will kissed the side of his face. “I’m spending the night.”
“Of course.”
He didn’t know what they were up to, but it hardly mattered. He flipped the sun visit down so he could look at Will in the mirror.
“Of course you’re spending the night,” Hugh said. “What else would you do?”
Score. Will’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Cool.”
“Good,” Truman said.
“What about you, Tru? Any good bedtime stories?”
“We had that caterpillar book, but I never really found it interesting.”
“Ha. Yeah. And what about Goodnight Moon? Like what the fuck?”
Bedtime stories, childhood, memory. Hugh listened to their voices and tried to see the future. There may yet still be surprises in store after all.
Omigod, the boyfriends with a kid. And maybe Lucy and her boys, too. And Ads and Beccs with a bun already. Because all of those kids would totally have to be raised together while everybody shifted them around so the adults could schedule kinky sexy times. It really would take a village. Also, holy cats, Hugh bonding with a baby is too adorable for words. Truman and Will already have open- affection- for -small- family- people experience to draw from but emotionally awkward Hugh learning to express love and approval to a tiny human is too epic for words. So this may never be a thing that happens in the SMU but I'm gonna grin at the thought and go awwwww anyway.
Yeah, there's definitely an AU future story kicking around in the back of my head where they all live in a commune and you have no idea whose genes are in which kids because everyone's all just doing their thing. Obviously *that* is not a real story idea. But I might find ways of weaving those kinds of threads through the series…
So, I have a 12 hour night shift ahead of me with a co-worker who honestly thinks the Pope is the AntiChrist and that Satan runs the Illumanti which, in turn, runs the UN and NASA in a conspiracy to hide the fact that the Earth is flat because a global earth runs contrary to the Bible. (No, I did not make that up.) Which, as a tax paying American, I firmly believe in his unalienable right to drink whatever KoolAid makes him happy. I just wish he would stop trying to share the KoolAid. And his unsubtle attitude that gay men are less than “real” men and lesbians are fine as long as straight men can derive sexual gratification from them.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for sharing the commune thought.(Tease!) While he’s spouting the crazy anti-everything, I get to think about a place filled with my favorite “people” mixing love and sex and floggers instead of punching him in the face. If you ever wonder if your writing makes a difference to people, remember it may save my job tonight.
Awwwwwww, Rhonda! Yes! This is the most marvelous thing! And does kinda make me want to write a commune. (STOP IT.)
You should put a pin in that. If not for SM maybe for another cast of characters…… (*grins*)