Chapter 12

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  "Ba'buir, do you want to play doctor with me?"

***

  "Jas'buir! Will you play with me?" an excited voice asked. Jaster opened his eyes to see his ad standing by his bed. The adiik couldn't sleep in, could he?

  "'Lek, Jan'ika. Just let me get up and get a cup of caff."

  "I already made you some!" Jango announced proudly, handing Jaster a cup full of a brown liquid. He must've put a lot of milk in it judging by the suspiciously light color. Jaster carefully took a sip. He made sure not to let his disgust show. Jango, manda bless him, must've mixed the coffee with sweetener in a one-to-one ratio.

  "Thank you, Jan'ika. What would I do without you?" Jaster ruffled the ad's hair and Jango grinned at him. It took Jaster an embarrassingly long time to realize that Jango, while he never really asked for it, craved any form of physical affection but ever since he noticed, he's been making sure to give Jango a plenty of hugs, kisses, hair ruffles and cuddles.

  "You would be lonely," Jango replied and without missing a beat, he climbed into Jaster's bed and got comfortable.

  "Didn't you want to play?"

  "That can wait," Jango decided. "Why aren't you drinking your coffee? I put lots of milk and sweetener in it so it's not bitter and it's good."

  "I'm... savoring it, Jan'ika."

  "Will you tell me a morning story?"

  "A morning story?" Jaster raised his eyebrows.

  "Like a bedtime story but in the morning," Jango explained. "Please, Jas'buir!"

  "Okay. And what would you like the story to be about?"

  "Hmmm..." The ad's nose scrunched up as he thought about it. It was incredibly cute and Jaster was also very glad that right now, Jango's only worry was that he wasn't sure what story was the most interesting and perhaps that Jaster put the cookies on a shelf Jango couldn't reach even when he climbed up on a chair. Just a few months ago, Jango was still sad and isolated after his biological family was killed. It warmed something in Jaster to see a spark in Jango's eyes. "Can you tell me some interesting stories about ba'vodu Mij?"

  "Why ba'vodu Mij?" As far as Jaster knew, Mij was now very low on Jango's list of favorite people as a few days ago, the baar'ur gave Jango some injections.

  "Because."

  "Because what?"

  "Because if I know a lot about ba'vodu Mij, like you do, I can threaten him so I don't have to go to the med-bay," Jango explained. "I learned that from you, Jas'buir," he announced proudly.

  Jaster suppressed a chuckle as he agreed to tell Jango a story about Mij. He made sure to pick one that wasn't too embarrassing. Manda knew Jango was more than capable of actually blackmailing the baar'ur.

  In the end, it didn't matter anyway. Jango fell asleep curled into Jaster's side just a few sentences into the story. Jaster glanced at the clock. It was barely six in the morning. Guess he had a peaceful morning for observing his ad. And subtly getting rid of the melted sweetener that was the coffee Jango had prepared him.

***

  "Of course, Kix." Jaster smiled at the boy. He looked so much like Jango! It was hard not to get lost in memories with the spitting image of his young ad looking at him. It was easier with the younger children, Jaster only met Jango when the ad was eight. So while Fives, Echo and even the ik'aade looked similar to Jango, looking at them didn't feel like looking into the past. Kix and Jesse reminded him of how he adopted Jango and the months after. Fox was even worse, or maybe better, Jaster wasn't sure. He looked about as old as Jango did when they were off completing his verd'goten, even through he should be older than that. But on the first look, he acted nothing like Jaster's young, loud, hotheaded Jan'ika. His bu'ad liked history, apparently, and if Jaster was lucky, books too. He could imagine taking him for his verd'goten. If wondering whether Fox was or wasn't similar to Jango didn't kill him first. And, of course, if his bu'ad wanted to have anything to do with him. Jaster failed them all terribly, it was the ad's right to chose not to interact with Jaster.

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