Expanding Chapter 10 - Fluffy
| Rating: T | Words: 4,390 | CW: None | On Ao3 |
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Tommy
Evan is giggling like a mad man as they enter the shelter. A young girl sits at the adoption desk. Looking up as they walk by, she greets them with a smile and asks, “Is there anything I can help you with today?” She’s got two animal shaped pins pinned to her shirt - a cat, and what could have been either a hamster or a guinea pig. They’re very cute, Tommy thinks.
Squeezing Evan’s hand he smiles back at her and says, “Yeah, actually. We’re looking for Branson. Is he around?”
She only hesitates for a second. Tommy doesn’t like that but he doesn’t know the reason, and if Branson’s never brought it up, he’s not going to press the issue. “Yeah, um.” She picks up a clipboard and Tommy can’t help but let out a soft snort upon seeing it. Evan elbows him in the side and Tommy feels the scathing glare he’s sent which only makes him snort again. It must have a schedule on it before after a moment she smiles up at them again and says, “He should be in the dog kennels right now. He might be cleaning them, though, so I’m not sure if he’ll have much time to talk.”
“Does he get a break at any point?” Evan asks, grin firmly back in place.
“Oh, of course. I think he’ll take one after he’s done in the dog room.”
“Perfect. Thanks. And, we’re kind of surprising him that we’re here, so if you could keep it hush hush?” Tommy presses a finger to his lips and winks. Unfortunately that seems to bring the girl's hackles up and she stiffens in her seat, fingers tapping uneasily against the clipboard he was just laughing about. Noticing, Tommy immediately holds out his hand in a placating gesture. “We’re his parents.”
“I thought he was in foster care.” She still sounds, rightfully, suspicious.
Evan clarifies, “For the moment we’re just foster parents. We’d like to be more than that, but he’s gotta decide for himself if that’s what he wants.” This eases her worries immediately and her mega-watt smile is back.
“Oh, that’s fantastic. He’s such a great kid, such a hard worker. I hope he decides to stay.” She calls him kid as if they’re not about the same age. Though, considering her gleaming dark complexion, she’s either a teen or pushing sixty years old. “Anyway, I’m not sure how long he’ll be, but feel free to take a look around while you’re waiting. I’ll be here if you have any other questions.”
Nodding they move further into the building, trailing towards the shelves full of toys and pet food, and any other essentials a new pet parent may find themselves needing. Evan runs his fingers along everything, every so often picking up a toy and wiggling it in Tommy’s face like the child he secretly is until Tommy is forced to swat it away. After about ten minutes, Tommy gets bored so he untangles their fingers, much to Evan’s displeasure - Tommy gets a full on pout for the trouble - and runs his fingers down his husbands back before walking over to one of the tables in the adoption area and popping a squat. Pulling out his phone, he gets lost in endless scrolling until an unfamiliar squeak catches his attention.
Branson stands in the mouth of one of the hallways that likely leads further back into the shelter. He’s got on a heavy duty plastic apron and elbow length plastic work gloves. His brown eyes are saucers as they bounce back and forth between himself and Evan. Grinning, Tommy gets to his feet and says cheerfully, “Branson! Funny running into you here.”
“D-dad?” Evan. Then quieter, more hesitantly, “P-pops?” Tommy’s heart soars. Until this moment, he had still been just Tommy to their teen, not that there was anything wrong with that. It was just that the green eyed monster had been gnawing at his brain ever since Evan had told him that Branson had called him ‘dad’ a few weeks back. Warmth prickles at his eyes. Even after meeting the man of his dreams, Tommy believed that he would never get the opportunity to be a dad. And if he did, he’d irrevocably fuck the kid up so bad that he’d die full of regret. He still struggled to believe Evan when he told Tommy that he’s a good dad. Hearing Branson call him pops, a name that the kid picked out himself, fills him with so much elation it’s seeping from his pores. But he tries his best to hide it, not wanting to embarrass his son. Not after such a huge step forward. “W-what are you guys doing here? Is something wrong?”
There’s so much concern in his voice; he’s still as skittish as a rabbit and it breaks Tommy’s heart. “No, Brans. Nothing’s wrong. We’ve just never stopped by to see what you get up to while you’re here. Since we’re both off today, we thought you could maybe give us a tour of the place.”
There’s immediate relief as Branson’s shoulders drop and a grin spreads over his face. “Yeah, I want to! Sadie, is it okay if I take my break now?” He glances at the receptionist who’s smiling warmly at him.
“For sure, hun. And take your time. There’s no rush.” She winks at him and his cheeks pinken with happiness.
“Wait right here!” His body vibrates with excitement even as he’s pulling the apron over his head. “Let me go put this stuff away, and I’ll be right back.” He begins to jog back down the hall, but he pauses and looks over his shoulder and reiterates, “Wait right here.”
“We’re waiting, kid. Go on.” Tommy shoo’s him away. Evan joins him and slides his hand back into Tommy’s, giving it a squeeze. Once Tommy is sure Branson is out of earshot he chokes, “He called me ‘pops’, Evan.” His voice is so thick with emotion it’s cloying.
“Yeah. He sure did, pops.” Evan kisses his shoulder while giving him a somewhat cheeky grin. “I think he’s finally beginning to crack.”
“I think so, too.” Tommy nods, breathing a sigh of what feels like relief.
x-x-x
Branson
Oh god, his dads’ are here. His parents. His cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink as it sinks in that he really just called Tommy ‘pops’ and… And liked it. It felt so natural. And pops seemed to like it, too. He was always so stoic but Branson had seen the way his bright blue eyes went glassy.
Positively giddy, he rushes down the hall to return the protective cleaning gear to its rightful place. Of course he diligently wipes it down, soaping it off and then spraying it down with disinfectant, setting it on a hook to drip dry. Doing the same with the gloves, antsy to get back to his parents, he shoots down the empty hall like a rocket. At 9 AM on a Saturday, the shelter is peaceful; there’s very few potential pet parents roaming. Evan and Tommy are right where he left them, holding hands and speaking quietly between them. “Okay, let’s go!” He bounces on the balls of his feet. There’s so many animals he wants them to meet. Chuckling, the two men follow him down a different hall where he guides them into the caged animal room. There’s a larger than usual number of them and it makes Branson heart sore. A lot of them are rescues due to the fires that ravaged the area. People lost their homes and are unable to care for their babies anymore. “This is our critter room.” He announces proudly, going up to the first cage where a fat, grey, lop ear rabbit munches on some hay in the back corner. Pressing a finger between the bars, he softly clicks his tongue and coos at her. She ignores him.
“This is Maggie.” He puts his hand on her cage. “She’s really old but she’s so soft. Do you want to feel her?” Evan eagerly nods, approaching as Branson pulls open the cage. Reaching in, he wraps both hands around Maggie’s middle and pulls her out. Her back legs kick a bit in protest, but once she’s against his chest she seems to relax. He strokes the space between her little ears and feels himself melting. His dad reaches out one meaty hand and with more gentleness than anyone can possibly expect, he runs it down her back, mouth dropping open with delight. Pops stands back and watches with that peaceful smile he gets when watching his husband. And, Branson guesses, himself as well. “Pops, don’t you want to say hi?” He asks, turning more towards him.
“Thanks but I’m okay for now.” There’s no hostility in the words, or apprehension. It’s mostly a sense of contentment.
“Oh. Okay. Anyway, let’s keep going. I’ve got so many friends for you to meet.” Branson places her back in her cage, gives her one last pet and moves on. Closing the door he moves on. He spends the next ten minutes introducing every single creature in the room. There’s five guinea pigs. A chinchilla. Three hamsters. A whole pack of practically newborn rats whose mother passed immediately after birth. It’s a miracle they survived. They’re a bonded group so they’ll be hard to adopt out. Lastly there’s the eight rabbits; six of them are bonded pairs. The grey lop ear and the black and white spotted Lionhead are the only two not bonded. Branson is in love with Leon the Lionhead and spends way too much time regaling his dads’ with facts about him. He even gives the cage a pat when it’s finally time to move on.
They move into the cat room next. It’s a free roam room with plenty of soft spots for the cats to lay, and even a large bay window with a reading nook where the animals often sprawl out to catch a stray sunbeam. There’s a few suites for cats that are a bit skittish, or maybe don’t play so nice with other animals. Branson happily reports to Evan and Tommy that there’s only two of the five suites currently filled. Otherwise there’s approximately eight cats snoozing and playing on the outside. Branson immediately leads them over to his favorite pair of cats, a brother and sister Siamese pair with crossed blue eyes and coarse black and light grey fur. “Meet Stormy and his sister, Cloud!” Both cats, who are tangled up with each other, bellies facing each other, their tails intertwined, on the bench seat, lazily roll their heads to the side and let out a sharp chirp as they approach. “Hey, babies.” Branson coos, stroking down each of their bodies. To his delight, pops goes in to pet each of them, fully smiling. His dad is too distracted as he keeps his head on a swivel, blue eyes alight with joy. Stepping away from them, he bends down and picks up a feather toy which draws the immediate attention of at least three cats.
They’re stuck in there for about five minutes as Evan runs the cats ragged, almost all of them panting happily as they’re flopped on their sides, tuckered out from a rambunctious bout of play. Hopefully no kids visit before they’re rested and get sad that none of the kitties want to play. But, Branson can’t fault his dad. During his free time, Branson often finds himself doing the same damn thing.
Grinning, Branson finally leads them down the mystery hallway into the dog kennels. Their noses are assaulted with wet dog smell and various other animal shelter related scents, but it doesn’t seem to bother any of them. Branson stops at each kennel to introduce the dogs, making his parents offer up a doggy treat to each one. At the kennel that holds a one eyed chihuahua, he pauses for an extra moment or two, heart soft towards the poor abused creature. He’d been rescued with two eyes, but due to some sort of blunt force trauma, the vets had been forced to remove the eye. It was causing Chip too much pain. But now he's the most adorable pirate, and would make a great mate for any sea faring adventurers. He also pauses in front of another kennel housing an ancient basset hound whose owner had, unfortunately, passed away, and none of the man’s family had been willing to take Red in. Red grumpily snorts at them before turning and showing them his rump which makes Evan erupt in laughter. In order to play with the dogs, they would have to take them out into the yard and Branson just doesn’t have the time, but that’s okay. Maybe on a different day.
After the tour, he’s already taken a break twice as long as he’s usually given, he walks with Evan and Tommy back to the front. “So those are all my animals.”
Tommy cocks an eyebrow. “Your animals, huh?”
Branson flares his nostrils and crosses his arms petulantly over his chest.. “Yeah. My animals.”
“You’d best believe that he has a say in whether someone gets to take one of those babies home.” Sadie chimes in from the front and Branson beams. They’ve entrusted him with so much since he started here, including vetting potential adopters. There were a few instances where pets went home with people that didn’t deserve them and Branson had stopped that real quick.
His parents grin at him and Tommy reaches out and strokes a hand through his hair without mussing it. “That’s great to hear, Branson. I’m glad these guys are in good hands.” Branson’s chest warms though he makes a face for propriety’s sake. He may be growing and changing as a person, but he’s still a moody teen at his core.
“Alright, Tommy that’s enough. We’ve already kept him way too long. Let us know when you’re ready to be picked up, okay? We’re heading straight back home after this.” Evan stuffs his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Don’t get into too much trouble.”
“No promises.” Branson smirks wickedly, lips quirking up on one side. “Don’t do anything gross while I’m out of the house.”
“No promises.” Evan snarks back, returning the wicked grin. Branson fake shudders and takes a few steps back, distancing them. “What, afraid you gonna catch cooties?”
“Nah. I’m afraid I’m gonna catch lovesick stupid.” With that he spins on his heel and races back towards the cat room once more.
The rest of his shift flies by. The shelter is unusually busy, even for a Saturday, but Branson is glad to see it. He’s not privy to most of the numbers involved in keeping it open, but he knows enough to know that things are trending upwards. They’re still only just breaking even most months, but they’re no longer bleeding red. By the end of the day, ten animals had been adopted out. The whole litter of rats got swooped up by a rat enthusiast. He’d spent way longer than he probably should’ve scouring the internet to find out if they intended on using the rats for nefarious deeds. To his delight, it appeared they were telling the truth; their house was a rat heaven, with plenty of space to run and play, and they were experienced with babies. Chip had found his forever home with a grouchy old man looking for a companion in his assisted living home and Chip was always pretty low energy, and mostly wanted to lay on someone's lap and snooze.
Unfortunately, one of the animals adopted today had been Leon the Lionhead. He’d been too busy to step in and vet the adopters, but Sadie assured him that he was in the best of hands. Branson will just have to believe her.
Finishing sweeping out the cage he’s been working on, he takes out his phone and shoots a text in the group chat, letting them know he’s done. Whistling, he slips the phone back into his pocket and hefts the bag of hay into his arms and lays it out before setting the toys back where they belong. Then he carefully sets Muncher the guinea pig back into his temporary home. Muncher chitters unhappily as he scurries into his plastic castle, brown and black booty sticking out for all the world to see. Branson smiles, gives that rear end a gentle poke, and then closes it all up, saying goodbye.
Just as he’s pulling on his sweatshirt, Branson receives the text that Tommy’s here to pick him up. Leaving the building through the employee’s only entrance, he goes through all the notifications he’s missed. Nikki’s sent him a number of animal meme’s. Having her back has been so nice, especially since she cut Smith off. Even Heidi steered clear and she used to hang on Nikki like she’d be lost at sea if she didn’t. Seeing the familiar silver truck, he tucks his phone away and slides into the front seat. Tommy asks, as Branson buckles himself in, “How’d the rest of the day go?”
He shrugs. “Fine. Busy. A bunch of the animals got adopted.”
“That’s great news.” Tommy says, beaming. “Shelters are great but it’s always a little sad seeing the animals caged up like that in the long run.”
“Mhm. Kind of sad too, though.”
“Why’s that?”
Sighing, not realizing just how sad it’s making him, Branson leans his head against the window, watching the world outside it whip by. “Remember Leon?”
“The rabbit, right?”
“Yeah. Apparently he got adopted.”
“And that makes you sad?”
He shrugs. “Yes and no. I’m happy he found a family, I guess. Bunnies don’t have very long lives so it sucks thinking of them stuck in a shelter long term, but I really loved hanging out with him. He never acted scared of me, ya know? He liked it when I would pet him and he’d always do the flop when I would check on him.” He sighs.
“I’m sorry to hear that, kid. It sounds like you had a pretty special relationship.”
He nods lethargically. Suddenly he’s quite tired, the heavy emotion settling over him like a weighted blanket. “I didn’t get to meet the people who adopted him, Sadie said it was a couple at least, so I really hope he’s in good hands. She seems to think no one better could’ve brought him home.” From the corner of his eye, it looks like Tommy preens a little and Branson’s brows crease. It’s not like Sadie’d been talking about his dads’.
“I’m sure he’s in good hands.” They pull into the driveway and Branson hops out. He spots his dad working around the kitchen, bopping from one counter to the other.
“Is dad making a feast or what?”
Tommy hums. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you that our extended family is coming over for dinner tonight. You’ll get to meet your… your cousins.” Branson hears the question in his words. Sure, he’s accepted that these two men are his dads’ in everything but paperwork, but is he ready to call others not related by blood his family? Can he really call Evan’s sister, aunt? Or their old friend, his uncle? “It’ll be fun. Promise. Jee and Daniel are great.”
He looks back over his shoulder with a tremulous smile. He certainly hopes so, especially as weariness digs deeper into his bones. Tommy’s upon him and he claps a hand on Branson’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks, pops.” The word comes out with just the smallest tremble but the more he says it, the more Branson likes the way it feels.
Entering the house Tommy calls out, “Evan. We’re home.”
It doesn’t take a second for light brown curls to pop around the corner followed immediately by a face with a beaming smile on it. “Welcome home. I’m a little behind on dinner but Chim and Maddie won’t be here with the kids until about seven. She’s got work until 4:30 I think.” There’s something in his posture that makes Branson a little uneasy, but he can’t quite put a finger on it. “Are you done with all your homework?” He nods. “Okay. Why don’t you go hang out in the living room until dinner is done?” Branson narrows his eyes with suspicion. Evan never suggests he go do something. Either he’s being told to do it or he’s told to do whatever to pass the time. Evan just keeps grinning at him.
“What are you up to?” He asks point blank, hating surprises.
“Nothing.” Evan replies a little too quickly, letting his expression fall into an unnatural scowl. “Just, go be a normal teen for a few hours.”
Branson hums, narrows his eyes before pointing his pointer and middle finger at them, then at his dads’ and then back at himself again. “I don’t trust you.” Giving the two of them one last calculating look, he turns and does find himself in the living room, turning the TV on and opening some streaming channel. It sounds like some hushed whispers are exchanged but Branson tries not to pay them any mind. Not a half episode later, Evan is calling for him.
“Hey, Brans. Can you come here for a second? We need your help getting some dishware down.” Evan’s tone is chipper. Far more chipper than it should be for a random Saturday afternoon.
Pausing the show he gets to his feet with a huff and yells back, “Coming!” Shuffling through the house, he goes first into the kitchen to find it empty, before turning and shuffling back towards the mudroom… Where he stops dead in his tracks. There’s a baby gate blocking the doorway, as well as the length of the room where the washer and dryer are. Inside the space is a familiar black, brown, and white Lionhead bunny, light brown nose twitching as he hops around, exploring the area. There’s not a whole lot in the room at the moment, just a small corner little pan with some wood pellet litter, and a few toys scattered around. He’s speechless.
“Surprise, Branson.” Evan holds his arms open wide, encapsulating the space. His expression is so warm that Branson wants to melt into it.
“I… but… why?” He chokes out, wrapping his arms around himself.
Tommy shrugs. “Because you’ve been working really hard to improve yourself the last month or so. We know that you love this rabbit, and animals in general, so we wanted to reward you for your efforts. To show you that we’ve noticed, and that we know you’re trying.”
“As you can see, we only got the bare minimum for him. I don’t know anything about rabbits and it was kind of spur of the moment so it’ll be up to you to help us shop for everything he could possibly need. Alright?” Evan walks to the gate and steps over it before pulling Branson into a breathtaking hug. He presses a kiss to Branson’s head. “Congratulations on improving yourself, Branson. We’re really proud of you. I know it hasn’t been easy, and we’ve all still got a long way to go, but I hope that having a companion will make the journey a little easier on you.”
Branson wraps his arms around his dad and sobs silently just once, chest heaving, and letting the tears trail down his face freely. Every single day he’s shown another reason why he’s so fucking lucky to be here. When they let go of each other, Evan steps back and gestures into the room where Tommy is sitting on the floor holding out a piece of carrot that Leon… No… That Sweetpea, boy be damned, is nibbling furiously at. Every time Tommy pulls it just out of reach, teasing the bunny, Sweetpea follows after it. Branson snorts and climbs over the gate, chiding his pops, “Don’t feed him too much of that. Carrots aren’t actually that good for them. They’ve got too much sugar.”
He spends every second until dinner with Sweetpea, taking his laptop into the room and sitting with his back against the wall. When the others eventually arrive, he lets Jee-yun and Daniel come meet the bunny. Without a word of complaint he answers their every question, and they’re endless at their little ages. Jee-yun can’t stop giggling as she watches the bunny hop around the room, jerking his head with the little wooden toys dangling from his mouth. Daniel is terrified, so Branson pulls him into his lap and asks Daniel’s mom to come sit with Sweetpea in her lap so that Daniel can pet him. To his surprise, Sweetpea settles right in, eyes half-closed in pleasure as Daniel tentatively strokes between his ears.
Somewhere down the hall, beer in hand, Chimney tells his friends, “You guys have done great. Really great.”
Tommy shrugs his big shoulders as he pulls his husband into his side, wrapping his arms around Evan’s shoulders. “He’s a good kid at heart.”
“He is. But he could’ve gone one of two ways. I’m glad to see you guys have put him back on the straight and narrow despite… Everything. You guys didn’t have great examples growing up. None of us did. But, somehow, we’re all raising great kids.”
“I’ll cheers to that.” Evan chimes in, holding his beer up for a second before holding it out in the center of their circle. Chim and Tommy do the same, toasting before clinking their bottles to his and taking long drinks, falling back into easy banter moments later.