A lovely anon prompted me with halloween prompt #15, “Dad!AU (take the kids trick-or-treating, etc”, with Richard specifically in mind. Thank you! This is long as hell, ~1800 words, and so fluffy. Tbh I never pictured myself writing the boys as Dads, but this was really fun and I kind of loved doing it lol, so if you like it I’d be totally willing to do it again. Thanks for reading!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The text from Taron came through at 2:45, while Richard was in the middle of a meeting and trying to stop his mind from wandering to what he wanted to eat.
Gonna be a long day, love. Can you get the kids ready tonight on your own? I’ll be home before you leave, promise.
I don’t know what they’re supposed to look like, T. That was all you.
It’s foolproof, Dickie, I promise. Costume on, a little glitter on her cheeks and she’s good to go. Even easier with Jude. Stick him in the pumpkin costume and zip it up. What are you, afraid? ;)
Not afraid, just don’t want to screw it up. I’ve got it, no problem...we’ll see you tonight, love.
You could never screw anything up. Love you. x
Richard smiled a little. Taron was making it sound much less complicated than he knew it would be, and trying to give Richard a boost of confidence. He knew that whatever T had going on at work, it had to be huge, because he would never miss an opportunity to get Zoey and Jude ready to go trick-or-treating.
He had always assumed that Taron would be a Christmas kind of guy. The lights, the snow, the presents, it had Taron written all over it. So Richard was shocked to find out along the way that Taron liked Christmas just fine, but he loved Halloween.
Before the kids, it had been all about spider webs and fake witches, apple cider all month long and couples costumes that made Richard die a little inside. Halloween was when Taron could be as outlandish as he wanted, and he always dragged Richard along for the ride, introverted as he was.
After the kids were born, he focused most of his Halloween energy on them, finding their costumes, perfecting them, taking them all to every Halloween-themed event he could find throughout the month of October. It was darling, really, and it made Richard love him that much more.
And it made him nervous to try to get their kids ready for that evening.
He supposed Taron was right, Jude’s costume was self-explanatory. Jude was almost two, and stubborn, and had insisted on picking out his own costume, something that drove Taron nuts. He’d picked out the simplest costume on the rack, a smiling round pumpkin costume that required no makeup, glitter or additional wiring. Just a zipper. Richard had watched Taron’s face fall when Jude had insisted on the pumpkin.
“Don’t you want something like this?” Taron had asked, holding up a pirate costume. Richard had been able to see the cogs twisting in his mind, figuring out some way to turn it into an intricately designed zombie pirate or something.
“No, this!” Jude had been emphatic. Taron had sighed with resign.
Zoey, on the other hand, was four, dramatic, and very into fairies. Richard had watched for weeks as the two of them had bent their heads together, designing the perfect fairy costume down to the last detail. They’d then spent the better part of a week deciding what kind of makeup would go best with her outfit, trying different shades and glitter. They’d only just declared everything perfect the weekend prior, and as Richard remembered the grin on both his daughter’s face and his husband’s, he was terrified that he’d mess it up.
Still, he had to try.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Richard came home, the nanny smiled at him and dumped Jude into his arms. “Zoey’s coloring in the playroom. They’ve both had dinner. Have fun tonight!” He nodded at her as she left, and looked down at his son, who had snuggled into him instinctively, and headed into the playroom.
Zoey was parked at their coloring table, scribbling ferociously on a pad of paper. Her dark brown curls tumbled down to her shoulders, and he marveled at the light in her blue eyes. Their night would be chaotic, he knew: he had to pull a miracle out of his arse in the next twenty minutes with regards to Zoey’s costume; Taron was likely to come home in the next hour like a madman and start critiquing everything he’d done; by 7:45 his children would both be full of sugar and far, far from their normal bedtime. Yes, he knew their night would be chaotic, but for the moment, he could watch his daughter color, hold his son, and soak up the miracle that was his life.
He kissed the crown of Jude’s head, into the same soft brown fluff that belonged to Taron when he let his hair grow out, and rocked him back and forth. Zoey looked up and saw him there, and before he knew it, she was crashing into his legs with a hug.
“Daddy!”
“Hiya, princess,” he said, setting Jude down so he could briefly gather both of his children into his arms. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yes, we--”
Jude stepped in front of his sister and stared deep into Richard’s eyes. “Candy.”
Richard laughed and Zoey tossed him a glare. “Yes, buddy, we’re going to get candy tonight, I promise.”
“Candy now, Daddy,” Jude said, a serious look on his face.
“Soon. First we have to get you two ready!” Richard said brightly, standing up.
“We have to wait for Daddy,” Zoey said. “He has to do my makeup.”
Richard bit his lip slightly and looked at his daughter. “He has to work a little late tonight, angel, so I’m going to get you ready, but he’ll be here before we go trick-or-treating, I promise.”
Zoey’s jaw dropped. “You can’t do it! You don’t know what to do!”
“I can do it, honey, I promise.”
Zoey sighed dramatically, and in the back of Richard’s mind he feared for her teenage years, not for the first time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“No, Daddy, what are you doing?”
Richard sighed. Well, Taron had been right about one thing: getting Jude ready was a cinch. His son was running around the living room, bouncing off the walls in his pumpkin costume, screaming in the distance about candy. He had no concept of his increased circumference, and had so far knocked over (and broken) an ashtray and a vase. It didn’t matter to Richard, though; he was ready to go. He’d stuck the kid in, zipped him up, and sent him on his way.
Zoey, however, had been testing him since the moment they’d started getting ready. He’d gotten a run in two pairs of shimmery green tights, and put her skirt on backwards. He’d cursed Taron over and over again as he’d struggled to wrestle his daughter into the costume, all while she wailed like a wet cat when he did anything wrong. The costume had 12,000 pieces, it seemed like, which would have been all well and good if Taron had been putting her into it, as he’d originally planned. The skirt was made of dark green tulle and the bodice was a lighter green. It had the most ornate and intricate flower crown that Richard could remember seeing (which he’d jammed onto her head backwards, by the way) and completely impractical ballet slippers.
She was darling, his girl, but he was out of his element.
He was now holding the makeup pallet she’d shoved into his hands, his fingers pinched tightly around the eyeshadow brush as he tried to smear the right color onto her eyelids. It was dark, and heavy, and she looked like a tiny clown. He’d tried to put the glitter on subtly as she’d instructed him- “Just a little, Daddy, no, not that much!”-and failed miserably. He’d put far too much blush on her cheeks.
“I...I think that’s it,” he said nervously, and she pranced over to the mirror with a smile on her face. He watched as it dropped off, however, when she looked at herself.
“I know, angel, I’m sorry, I tried my best,” he said earnestly. They were interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming, and Zoey raced off. Richard followed sheepishly.
“Oh, my days, would you look at you!” he heard Taron say. Richard stood in the doorway and watched, Zoey gathered up in Taron’s arms. He couldn’t help but smile.
“Daddy did my makeup and he didn’t do it right!” she said.
“Oh, he certainly...tried, though, didn’t he? It’s a look, eh?” Taron kissed her cheek, then looked up and smiled at Richard, who ambled over. “You’ve got to blend the eyeshadow, love, or else she just looks like a...well, like this,” Taron said, setting Zoey back on the floor.
“I have no idea what that means, and no desire to. You’re a bloody saidst for forcing me to do this. Hello,” he said, kissing him briefly.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Taron said, the sheepish smile that Richard couldn’t resist playing on his lips. “And would you look at this! We’ve got a little pumpkin destroying the living room!” Taron said, scooping up Jude and kissing him all over his face.
“Alright, let’s go!” Richard said, gathering up the bags they’d bought for the kids to hold their loot in.
“Candy!” Jude yelled, holding tightly onto Taron’s hand, Zoey onto Richard’s as they made their way out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time they’d gotten the kids home, gotten them out of their costumes and into pajamas, wiped the clown makeup from Zoey’s face, and wrestled two sugar-laced children into their beds a hundred times, both Taron and Richard were beat. Richard padded into their bedroom where Taron was laying in bed, wearing nothing but his boxers and scrolling through his phone.
“I know you love this holiday, but by God I’m glad it only comes once a year,” Richard said, throwing himself into bed beside Taron and curling up next to him. “What are ya looking at?”
Taron started laughing, giggles coming from his belly as he stared at his phone. “Look at her!” he said, turning his phone to Richard and showing him one of the many photos he’d taken of Jude and Zoey that evening. Her blush practically glowed in the dark.
“Hey!” Richard said, fake-annoyed. “You let me go in blind, love, I had no idea what to do.”
“I know, I know. You did a wonderful job.” Taron kissed Richard, sliding his hand around the back of Richard’s neck and pressing his forehead to his. “You’re amazing.”
Richard sighed contentedly, burrowing closer to Taron, soaking in his body heat. “Listen. I love you, I love our kids, I love this life more than anything.”
“Mmm,” Taron said sleepily, closing his eyes.
“But I swear, if you ever leave me in charge of Halloween again, I’m out of here,” Richard said, a teasing grin on his face as he joined Taron in closing his eyes.
“Atsushiiiiiii,” Todomatsu calls to his boyfriend form the living room. “The movie is starting. Hurry up.”
“Yeah, just a sec,” Atsushi says and takes the bag of freshly popped popcorn out of the microwave, emptying its contents in a bowl. He takes it with him to the living room, where Todomatsu is already settled comfortably on the couch, lying sideways with his head resting on his arms against the side of the couch. Atsushi sets down the popcorn on the glass coffee table in front of them before plopping onto the couch. He leans on his boyfriend, practically lying on top of him.
Todomatsu grunts.
“Get off, you’re heavy.”
“No thanks, I’m comfortable.
Todomatsu lets out a noncommittal “hmph,” then shifts as he pushes Atsushi slightly. He lies on his back and settles in again, and opens his arms. Without further invitation, Atsushi lays his head on Todomatsu’s chest and wraps his arms around the other’s body.
“You sure you can eat popcorn that way?” Todomatsu asks.
“I made it mostly for you.”
“Hm. I’m getting fat.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Okay, shush,” Todomatsu says, “the movie is starting.”
Even though they always end up talking through the movie instead of watching it. But Atsushi focuses on the TV at Todomatsu’s request.
They chose a bad generic horror movie with cheesy effects, so they could wind down and laugh at stupid shit that wasn’t supposed to be laughed at. It had been a long week for the both of them and they decided they needed a break somehow.
“Ah, he reminds me of my boss,” Atsushi points out when a red-faced chubby man screams at the office workers over a trivial thing. “I hope he dies,” he quietly adds.
Todomatsu’s laughs gently shakes Atsushi’s body. His hands start gently stroking his boyfriend’s brown hair.
“Was it that bad this week?”
“Mm.” Instead of answering, Atsushi chooses to snuggle Todomatsu’s chest. “I don’t wanna go back to work on Monday.”
“Don’t we all.”
“Mmhm.”
Screams come from the TV as a serial killer is apparently set loose in the office building.
“Oh, he’s the first one to die. Congrats, Atsushi.”
“Yay.”
“So excited.”
“Yep. Sure.”
Todomatsu stops stroking Atsushi’s hair.
“Hey.”
“Hm?” Atsushi lifts his head to look at Todomatsu. His neck hurts a bit from the action. But the pain is almost immediately forgotten when Todomatsu leans forward and gives him a quick peck on the forehead.
“Ah.”
Todomatsu turns his gaze back to the TV, but Atsushi sees his smile.
“Hey, give me a proper one.”
“Hm? A proper what? Oh, the blood looks real in this one. Gross.”
“Todomatsu,” Atsushi says, dragging out the “u.” “You know what I mean.”
He looks at Atsushi with a teasing smile.
“Oh, are you whining?”
Atsushi rolls his eyes. Then moves his arms.
He smirks when he feels his boyfriend jerk underneath him. Then gets up and traps Todomatsu between his limbs.
“Oi!” Todomatsu protests, but it’s too late. Atsushi commences a full-on tickle attack.
Taking advantage of his position on top, he attacks mercilessly, going for all the weak spots he remembers.
“W-wait! W—Atsushi! Sto-op you j-jerk!” Barely getting words between pants and laughs, Todomatsu finally gives.
“Fine, fine!” He grabs Atsushi’s face, still laughing with tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He pulls them together, planting light kisses on his lips, maybe some on the cheeks.
“Satisfied?”
Atsushi pretends to contemplate for a sec as the sound of actors and actresses dying on screen fill the pocket of silence.
He shrugs. “Not really, but it’ll do.”
Todomatsu lightly slaps him on the arm.
“You better be. Like hell I’m letting you do that again.” He looks at the coffee table. “You know, since you’re already kinda up, can you maybe bring the popcorn a bit closer so I can actually reach and eat it?”
“Oh,” Atsushi says as he sees that he did indeed place the popcorn a bit out of reach.
“Oh is right, you dummy.”
tooth-rotting, poorly-written, zero-plot fluff... i kept forgetting which tense i was using and was switching between past and present like the spirit of Katy Perry’s Hot and Cold. if ya wanna kick me out of this fandom then i understand. speaking of fandoms, jesus there is some fucked up shit in the korean fandom like b r u h. i mean, “u do u” i guess.
