After filing his company for bankruptcy, Kyle's wife leaves him and his three-year-old son. Now a forty-two-year-old divorcee with no parenting skills or money, Kyle decides to move back to the small home town he grew up in.
He should have lost all...
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The next morning had been surreal. Kyle and woken up with Otis squashed between him and Chaska. It had taken him a while to remember why they were in the man's apartment in the first place, but when he did remember a sweet feeling of joy overcame him. He started at the dark-haired man sleeping across from him before looking down at his son's head of dirty blond hair. He grinned, running a hand through his son's hair as he hummed.
His humming got a rise out of Chaska, the tan-skinned man farrowed his brows before opening them and blinking a few times. "You're awake?" he said, but it was framed more like a question. Kyle's smile widened as he nodded and reached out to touch the man's face.
"You're awake now as well," he said, and Chaska rolled his eyes before looking down at Otis who was still fast asleep.
"He sleeps like a rock," Kyle explained and Chaska chuckled, rolling until he was lying on his back and looking up at the bedroom ceiling. "His mum put him on a strict schedule he gets up at eight on the dot."
"What time is it? What's the day even?" Chaska asked, making Kyle frown a bit as he tried to remember.
"It looks like it's still really early, and it's Sunday... I think?" Kyle muttered; his memory equally as hazed.
"I think so too..." Chaska trailed, and the room went silent for a bit before the two men burst out laughing.
"Yesterday was a bit draining, wasn't it?" Kyle asked, and Chaska hummed, rolling on his side to touch Otis' hair.
"I love him, but being with him all day is exhausting," the man chuckled, and Kyle smiled. He was referring to dealing with the energetic toddler. The words were mundane, but Chaska mentioning that he loved his son made Kyle's heart skipped a bit. It probably wasn't something too special. He loved all his other students after all. At least that's what Kyle assumed.
"Well, you're a lot better with kids than me," Kyle muttered feeling his heartbeat quicken when he realized this was ample time to bring up what he'd been meaning to suggest.
"Chaska," he said in a low tone, changing the mood of the banter. "I've been wanting to ask if you'd like to help me with Otis." Kyle's face was growing hot, and he was finding a hard time mustering the breath he needed to say the next sentence.
"I know you're busy, and that whatever we have right now makes things a little touchy—" Kyle pushed himself to talk, moving to sit up on the bed so that he could look down at Chaska. The dark-haired man wasn't showing any clear signals or emotions, and it was worrying to Kyle. "But I need help. I'm not the best of dads, and I'd like it if someone with actual experience with these things could help me," he finished before letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His hands had been drawn into fists at his side and he kept looking over at Chaska for a reaction—anything at all.
Chaska stared at him before turning his gaze to the little boy still fast asleep at the center of the queen-sized bed. He let out a sigh as he tucked him in and moved to sit up on the bed himself.
