Brian fucking Kinney (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
minimumbullshit) wrote2015-03-12 09:40 pm
minimumbullshit) wrote2015-03-12 09:40 pm
For Max
It was early. An hour before Gus's bath and bedtime, with plenty of time to spare for Brian to go out and hit the bars, but he'd sent Colleen on her way for the night. He'd gotten off work, taken a look around and had made the decision, without examining his reasons too closely. For once, he'd taken care of dinner himself. The kid was fed, Brian was fed, the two of them now stretched out on the living room floor.
Gus toddled around, playing with his toys, crawling across Brian's stomach, inching along on his ride-on fire engine. They built block towers and happily knocked them down. Brian might not have admitted it, but it wasn't quite as boring as he would've thought.
From upside down, Brian caught sight of a frame on the mantel of the gas fireplace he'd probably never use. In it was a picture of his son at the park. And alongside it was a shot from Gus's birthday, the two of them with some of the other kids and mothers from the neighborhood, all of whom were more friends of the nanny than of Brian.
It hadn't occurred to Brian to take either of those pictures, let alone frame them and put them out. It must've been Colleen.
Lindsay and Mel's house had been full of pictures. Albums. Memories. Suddenly, a kid came on the scene and perfectly reasonable people started to get fucking paranoid about capturing every little goddamn moment. As if you needed fifty snapshots of your kid eating peas.
With a sigh, Brian climbed to his feet, padding barefoot up the stairs to grab his camera. He sat down in the middle of Gus's scatter of toys on the living room floor, legs folded, and turned it on. The first shot he snapped was of Gus bending down to pick up a toy taxi cab, which Brian had bought for Gus as a joke, but had recently become the kid's favorite.
"No accounting for taste," Brian said, smirking when Gus looked over at him with a grin, exposing his little bunny-teeth incisors, which had appeared within the last couple of months. Brian stuck out his tongue, eliciting a cackle of laughter and a bigger grin. Brian managed to catch it with a flash of his camera, just as they both heard the sound of keys in the door.
Gus's head swiveled to look. Brian's glance was a little more casual.
Gus toddled around, playing with his toys, crawling across Brian's stomach, inching along on his ride-on fire engine. They built block towers and happily knocked them down. Brian might not have admitted it, but it wasn't quite as boring as he would've thought.
From upside down, Brian caught sight of a frame on the mantel of the gas fireplace he'd probably never use. In it was a picture of his son at the park. And alongside it was a shot from Gus's birthday, the two of them with some of the other kids and mothers from the neighborhood, all of whom were more friends of the nanny than of Brian.
It hadn't occurred to Brian to take either of those pictures, let alone frame them and put them out. It must've been Colleen.
Lindsay and Mel's house had been full of pictures. Albums. Memories. Suddenly, a kid came on the scene and perfectly reasonable people started to get fucking paranoid about capturing every little goddamn moment. As if you needed fifty snapshots of your kid eating peas.
With a sigh, Brian climbed to his feet, padding barefoot up the stairs to grab his camera. He sat down in the middle of Gus's scatter of toys on the living room floor, legs folded, and turned it on. The first shot he snapped was of Gus bending down to pick up a toy taxi cab, which Brian had bought for Gus as a joke, but had recently become the kid's favorite.
"No accounting for taste," Brian said, smirking when Gus looked over at him with a grin, exposing his little bunny-teeth incisors, which had appeared within the last couple of months. Brian stuck out his tongue, eliciting a cackle of laughter and a bigger grin. Brian managed to catch it with a flash of his camera, just as they both heard the sound of keys in the door.
Gus's head swiveled to look. Brian's glance was a little more casual.