It's become a nightly ritual, explaining where Marshall is to Ben.
"Again?"
Dash nods, staring down at the potato he's skewered on his fork. He's gotten good at this cooking thing, the least Mars could do is come home and eat some of it.
And spend some time with their son.
Dash looks up at Ben when he's sure the boy is focused on his plate, studying the strange array of features. No one was more surprised when he was when it turned out where ever he came from, males could give birth - gave that whole "nothing's gonna happen anyway" conversation when they ran out of condoms an interesting ending. Still, it's interesting to look at Ben and see both himself and Mars. He's pale, he has streaks of gray in his otherwise very brown mop of hair hair, and his brown eyes look out from a face full of features that are part him and part Mars.
It's almost disconcerting, but it also makes a strange swell of pride fill his chest.
Ben looks up, catches him watching, shoots a worried look across the table. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it."
Dash grins. "Just like I taught you, atta boy."
A blush spreads red and hot over Ben's cheeks and he ducks his head, failing to hide his smile. 'Thanks, Dash," he says. "Dad says I shouldn't do that, though."
"Of course he does, he's a stick in the mud. Now eat your peas."
Ben rolls his eyes, but obeys with a muttered, "Fine, Dash."
He never asked Ben to call him papa or any other variation of 'dad'. Mars is always Dad, and Dash is just Dash, and it doesn't bother either of them. And Simon is Uncle Simon, and he pampers Ben like crazy. Which is good, since Mars never seems to want to.
Dash holds in a sigh and picks at his own peas.
At first it wasn't like this. Mars was home every night, and the whole coparenting thing was actual them coparneting (and arguing, but that wasn't anything new). But lately...Mars has been away more and more frequently. He and Simon are working on something, but they won't tell Dash and Dash is pretty sure it's just because Mars knows Dash will insist on helping but he doesn't want to leave Ben parentless if things go wrong.
Which is great of him and all.
Except where does that leave Dash?
He jumps when something heavy lands on the table and both he and Ben stare up at a grinning Marshall.
"I finally found it!" he announces, pointing at the box he's just put on his usual place. "God. Finally. Happy birthday, Dash."
Dash blinks. "I don't...have a birthday?"
Mars waves his hand. "We've been over this, we're celebrating the day you woke up in the mill, now open your present before I let Ben do it."
The excited look in Ben's eye gets Dash out of his chair and around the table, carefully peeling back the tape and opening the box to look down at a huge leather bound tome. "What is it?" he asks.
Mars's hand falls lightly on his back. "It's Lodgepool's ledger," he says, "It took me forever to find it, then I had to negotiate with the Bureau, but Simon and I made a deal that if we digitized the information we could have the original."
"So...all this month..."
"Yeah, sorry, babe," Mars presses a quick kiss to Dash's temple, then rounds the table and scoops Ben out of his chair. "How are my boys? I've missed you!"
"Marshall," Dash says over Ben's giggles. Marshall looks up, brow creased at Dash's serious tone. This is where Dash could get all sentimental, express his thanks with teary eyes...but he's Dash, so instead he just says, "You owe me a month of dishes."
And Marshall laughs, his whole face lighting up as he carried Ben away into the kitchen to help with the dirty dishes.
Dinner For Two; T(ish...); Slightly angsty; mentions of MPreg
"Investigating.
It's become a nightly ritual, explaining where Marshall is to Ben.
"Again?"
Dash nods, staring down at the potato he's skewered on his fork. He's gotten good at this cooking thing, the least Mars could do is come home and eat some of it.
And spend some time with their son.
Dash looks up at Ben when he's sure the boy is focused on his plate, studying the strange array of features. No one was more surprised when he was when it turned out where ever he came from, males could give birth - gave that whole "nothing's gonna happen anyway" conversation when they ran out of condoms an interesting ending. Still, it's interesting to look at Ben and see both himself and Mars. He's pale, he has streaks of gray in his otherwise very brown mop of hair hair, and his brown eyes look out from a face full of features that are part him and part Mars.
It's almost disconcerting, but it also makes a strange swell of pride fill his chest.
Ben looks up, catches him watching, shoots a worried look across the table. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it."
Dash grins. "Just like I taught you, atta boy."
A blush spreads red and hot over Ben's cheeks and he ducks his head, failing to hide his smile. 'Thanks, Dash," he says. "Dad says I shouldn't do that, though."
"Of course he does, he's a stick in the mud. Now eat your peas."
Ben rolls his eyes, but obeys with a muttered, "Fine, Dash."
He never asked Ben to call him papa or any other variation of 'dad'. Mars is always Dad, and Dash is just Dash, and it doesn't bother either of them. And Simon is Uncle Simon, and he pampers Ben like crazy. Which is good, since Mars never seems to want to.
Dash holds in a sigh and picks at his own peas.
At first it wasn't like this. Mars was home every night, and the whole coparenting thing was actual them coparneting (and arguing, but that wasn't anything new). But lately...Mars has been away more and more frequently. He and Simon are working on something, but they won't tell Dash and Dash is pretty sure it's just because Mars knows Dash will insist on helping but he doesn't want to leave Ben parentless if things go wrong.
Which is great of him and all.
Except where does that leave Dash?
He jumps when something heavy lands on the table and both he and Ben stare up at a grinning Marshall.
"I finally found it!" he announces, pointing at the box he's just put on his usual place. "God. Finally. Happy birthday, Dash."
Dash blinks. "I don't...have a birthday?"
Mars waves his hand. "We've been over this, we're celebrating the day you woke up in the mill, now open your present before I let Ben do it."
The excited look in Ben's eye gets Dash out of his chair and around the table, carefully peeling back the tape and opening the box to look down at a huge leather bound tome. "What is it?" he asks.
Mars's hand falls lightly on his back. "It's Lodgepool's ledger," he says, "It took me forever to find it, then I had to negotiate with the Bureau, but Simon and I made a deal that if we digitized the information we could have the original."
"So...all this month..."
"Yeah, sorry, babe," Mars presses a quick kiss to Dash's temple, then rounds the table and scoops Ben out of his chair. "How are my boys? I've missed you!"
"Marshall," Dash says over Ben's giggles. Marshall looks up, brow creased at Dash's serious tone. This is where Dash could get all sentimental, express his thanks with teary eyes...but he's Dash, so instead he just says, "You owe me a month of dishes."
And Marshall laughs, his whole face lighting up as he carried Ben away into the kitchen to help with the dirty dishes.