by R J Scott
Stan said something soft and low, and my heart expanded when Pavel smiled shyly and held both his toys right next to his heart.
And just like that, Pavel was part of my family, my heart, and he was our new son. And right now I would buy every single Happy Meal toy in the world for him, just to keep seeing that smile.
Stan
There had never been anything that felt as good as sinking into our bed the night we’d brought our new children home. The day had been frantic, filled with excitement that had made all the children edgy. So many people talking at Eva and Pavel, not enough people fussing over Noah, three languages flying through the air, and food. My God, but Mama had cooked herself into a state, making every dish she could think of to entice the new arrivals to eat. She too had seen their images. Galina had shown her. We’d all agreed that good nutrition, medical care, and schooling was our top priority, but surely we couldn’t make them gain all the weight in one sitting? I chuckled as I sprawled over our large bed, face into the pillows, smelling fresh spring scent and Erik, as it was his pillow I was nuzzling.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, pattering around our bedroom, picking up the clothes I’d shed and let fall to the floor.
“Mama making so many food dishes,” I mumbled into the pillow, then turned my head to speak more clearly. “She’ll not have to cook for a week,” I said, then softly chortled, rolling a bit to try to work out the kinks of two international flights. My lower back knotted up, and I hissed in pain.
“What’s wrong?” Erik asked, sliding into the bed, worry thick in his voice. He was always so concerned. A worrier, much like Mama. “I told you not to give Pavel a ride through the house on your shoulders.”
“Is not my shoulders; it is my back. Even with big seats, I am cramped like sardine in can.”
“Let me see if I can work the knots out.” I peeked at him as he shucked off his clothes and joined me in bed, the brush of his warm flesh over my naked ass was pleasant. He settled on my thighs, his weight pressing me deeper into the mattress. Then he put his hands to my back and began kneading. My eyes rolled back into my skull, and I moaned long and low.
“So good,” I purred as my mind and muscles began to unwind. Such a long day for all of us. “Door is locked, yes?”
“Yes, the door is locked,” he assured me, his strong fingers digging deep into the tight muscles. His cock lay between my thighs, growing longer and firmer with each passing moment. “I love your back,” he softly said, rolling and working. “And your shoulders.” He moved upward, massaging as he went, his prick now resting on my ass. He covered me for a moment, his chest to my back, and rained small kisses along the shoulders he so admired. My cock was plump now. I thrust into the bedding, the soft friction quite enjoyable.
“Take my ass,” I growled after several long moments had passed with him nibbling my spine and shoulder blades while humping my backside. He paused, his breath hot little puffs on the nape of my neck. “Do it, Erik.”
“But the kids…”
“Are sleeping, sound good. Do you not wish to fuck me?”
“Of course I do. I want to I just…”
I closed my eyes and let him waver a bit. Such a worrywart, my beloved.
“We will be quiet. The door is locked. Take my ass.”
“Yes, okay,” he whispered, wiggling around to locate the lube in the drawer of the nightstand. “I love doing this.”
I grunted and rolled my hips, working to give him a little room to get his cock between my ass cheeks. Thighs tight, ass canted upward, back loose now and bowed, I gave him a treat that he always relished. Usually I was on top, but sometimes, I wanted to feel him inside me. And Erik was always willing, eager even, to slip deep into me. The round head of his cock moved over my hole, seeking entry.
“There, push hard there.” I snarled, my fingers curling around the headboard, gripping the thin iron posts in preparation for a sound fucking. “Hard, push hard into me…yes. Yes!”
“Shh,” Erik hissed, working his hips, sliding deeper with each hard thrust until he was in me as far as he could go in this position. “Quiet, Stan, the kids…”
“Yes, fuck, shit.” I needed more. “More. I need faster fucking now, Erik.” He grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them wider, slamming into me with force. I buried my face into his pillow, moaning in pleasure, my cock rubbing over the rumpled covers, the wadded-up coverlet caressing the underside of my cock. “Mm, ah da, khorosho. Da, da, bystro, bystro!”
“Faster, huh?” He panted and pounded me with increased speed. He came first, his spunk filling me as he held on to my ass, his grip tight and painful. We had tossed away the condoms months ago after being tested together, and now I reveled in the rush of heat deep inside me. With each pulse, his cock spewed more cum into me. He squeezed my ass cheeks together and then spread them, soft beautiful words in his language joining my grunts and pleas in Russian. “Stan, oh, hell,” he gasped, pulling out in a hurry, then yanking my hip. I rolled over, and he fell on my cock, sucking me down his throat. He slid his hand between my legs, his long fingers finding my slick hole, then pushing inside. With my cock filling his mouth and his fingers bumping my prostate, I bucked wildly as my orgasm fired off. Erik swallowed every drop. I cried out once and then pawed for a pillow to bite down on. Wave after beautiful wave washed over me. His cum leaked out of me, coating his fingers as he milked that knot of nerves. I finally had to beg him to stop so I could find my breath.
He did, shimmying up over me, removing the pillow from my teeth and licking his way into my mouth, his slippery fingers plucking at my left nipple as he lapped at me.
“I am for making good words, but…brain has gone on big trip…to maybe Florida for fun and…sun times,” I huffed, my chest working like a bellows, Erik lying over me, his strong limbs soft and rubbery.
“God.” My sweet man sighed, his curls damp and sticking to my neck. “I love your ass.”
“Heh, and I am in love with yours.” I pressed a kiss to his tangled hair and cinched him close. “Life is so good perfect…. now, dreams are true, and I am quite happy fucked… senseless by my true best love.”
“Sweet talker,” he whispered before lifting his head to kiss me sloppily. “I’m not sure I can move.”
“Stay putted then.” I held him even closer. “I am good bed for you. Safe. Keep you comfy and warm.”
“Love you so much,” he murmured, his breathing slowing as he drifted off.
“I love you so much too,” I told him, then dropped off as well, sleep not even sneaking up on me. It ran up and hit me in the face with a dream bat.
It was sometime after three when I heard crying, soft, like a sad puppy. It was not Noah. His cries I knew. I slid out from under Erik, who never twitched, his nerves having worn him out perhaps as bad as my two flights to and from Russia had me. I pulled on some sleep pants with unicorns on them—a gift from Adler on my birthday—and stepped out into the hallway. The whimpering was coming from Pavel’s room, which was beside Eva’s and across from Noah’s, all three children having their own rooms at the end of the hall.
I padded down the hallway and pushed the door to Pavel’s room open. There was not much in the rooms for either child. The walls were bare, and the closets sadly barren. We would fix this soon, very soon, with new clothes and bright things on the wall.
Both of my newest children looked up at me, the cold winter moon shining strong and white in the window. Eva sat up straight, her face damp with tears, as was Pavel’s, but her chin coming up stubbornly. As if me seeing her cry was an unwanted thing for her.
“What’s wrong, little ones?” I asked in Russian. Pavel burrowed into his sister’s side, his sniffles pronounced. Eva held her brother close. Both were in spiffy new pajamas that were slightly too big. Clothes shopping with Mama and Galina was moving up to tomorrow.
“Pavel had a bad dream,” Eva replied, also in our native tongue. I walked over and sat on the edge of the twin bed, the mattress dipping un
der my weight. “He says he sees Anatoli at the window.”
She pointed at the window with a shaking finger.
“Anatoli looked bad, like our dog in the road.” Pavel coughed, then started weeping again. I shimmied back onto the bed and pulled both trembling children to me. Had they seen their guardian’s body after the accident? I prayed not.
“Your guardian is with God now, at his right-hand side, and he is perfectly beautiful, just like your Mama and Pappa,” I told the two dark-haired cherubs clinging to me. Both were shaking strongly. “When we die, we go to heaven, yes?”
Two heads bobbed. I rubbed Pavel’s back gently. He was lean. Far too lean. Mama would fatten them up quickly, but what of the other children in my village? Who would put meat on their bones?
“They said he was smashed bad like our dog last year,” Eva said so softly I could barely hear her.
“That was just his earthly body, little ones. When we join God, our sins are washed away, and we are then in a state of glory.”
“State of glory?” Pavel enquired, his sobbing slowing to mere snivels.
“Yes, we’re as beautiful as the archangels, we glow with God’s love, and our souls are rich and golden. The light of glory makes us whole and young and healthy.”
“Even dogs?” Eva asked.
I nodded. “and cats especially are silky and spry once they reach heaven. God loves animals and gives them toys and treats. So see, the vision that you dreamed of your guardian, that wasn’t him, you know that, yes?” I took Pavel’s round chin in my hand and tipped his gaze up to me. He nodded and hiccuped. I glanced at Eva. She inclined her head. “Good. Know that your guardian is with God and that he is filled with golden love. What you saw was a bad dream made by sadness. I know you are sad, little ones, and I know this is confusing.” I waved a hand, because it was a lot easier to speak the truth in my native tongue. “But with time, life here in America, with Erik and me, will be so good. And you will have so many opportunities: college, good jobs, loving and marrying who you wish. America is the land of dreams for immigrants like us. You will grow up big and strong and so happy.” I smiled at them. They worked at smiling back, but they failed. “Is there something I can get you before you go back to bed? Cookies? Milk?”
“Can the dogs sleep with us?” Pavel asked, his chin still resting in my palm.
“Yes, of course, if you wish. But they take up a lot of room in the bed,” I explained, but neither child seemed to mind.
Ten minutes later, both children were in their beds, curled up with our dogs. I checked on Noah, who was on his belly, and I mourned the loss of his gold curls. I ran a finger over his smooth cheek, pulled up his bunny blanket, and sneaked back to my bedroom.
Erik was lying on his side in bed, watching me, his head propped up on his hand. “Dogs in the bed, huh?”
I shrugged and closed the door quietly behind me. “Pavel had a dark dream. Dogs are good for keeping evils at bay.”
“So they are. You handled that well.”
I shucked off my pants and wiggled under the covers he was holding up for me. His skin was toasty warm when he nestled into my side. I loved the smell of him. Rich, masculine, a touch of the manly soap and shampoo he used still lingering on his heated skin.
“Pavel had bad dreams of his pappa. I think maybe they hear peoples talking and it sticks in the scary parts of their minds,” I explained.
Erik sighed sadly before resting his head on my chest. “I heard.” He waved at the two baby monitors on his nightstand. We had not gotten one for Eva as she was too old and required privacy. Or so Galina had informed us. “They’re lucky that you’re their father.”
“We are their fathers.” I turned my head and buried my nose into his hair. He cooed softly, melting into my embrace, and I drifted off. The rest of the night passed peacefully. Due to dogs guarding innocent sleep, I am sure.
Erik
I was up at five a.m. It wasn’t so much that I couldn’t turn over and go back to sleep, but that I woke and then my head was full of what-ifs and maybes. My first thought was Noah; he’d been quiet yesterday, overwhelmed by the noise, and probably wondering who those two strange kids were in the house with him.
I tried to explain as best I could, but how much could a toddler actually understand? I couldn’t help that, even though Eva and Pavel were a permanent addition to our family, my instinct was to shelter Noah. I untangled myself from Stan, who rolled away and buried his face in the pillow, muttering something in Russian that I had no hope of translating. I pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade as I pulled up the covers, then padded into the kitchen. This was my favorite part of the day—that softly lit early morning as dawn sketched the sky with blue, and there was complete peace. It wouldn’t last long, Noah would be up soon, the dogs would want to be let out and walked, Stan’s mama would make breakfast, Stan himself would wander into the kitchen looking all kinds of sleepy, and he would kiss me good morning and demand coffee. Now, add in two more children, and our house would be full.
But for now, it was just me, coffee, dawn, and silence. I walked the hallway, opening the door to Pavel’s room carefully. Both dogs lifted their heads, BB immediately lying back down in his lazy way, but Wolfie seemed like maybe he wanted to go out, and I held the door a little wider so he could slip past. Eva was fast asleep, her arms wrapped around Pavel, who had his face buried into his sister’s neck. Everything had to be so hard for them, and we shouldn’t have tried to have them sleep in separate rooms. They were in a new country, with people they didn’t know. Of course they would want to be together. I made a note to check with Stan about whether they wanted to share a bedroom for a while. If that was okay. I mean, they could share a room couldn’t they? I didn’t know the rules, and even if there were any.
I pulled the door closed, let Wolfie outside in the huge sprawling yard, and then went directly to Noah’s room. This was another part of my morning ritual, spending a little time watching Noah sleep, and there was a chair in his room just for me. Stan had put it in there, so I would have somewhere to sit when Noah needed me.
Only Noah wasn’t asleep. He was sitting up in his toddler bed, holding his blue rabbit and the purple teddy that Adler had bought him close to his chest.
“Hey, Noah,” I said quietly and crossed to him, then placed my coffee on the small table.
“Dadda,” he said, but he sounded sad, not his usual bouncy self. I held out my hands to pick him up, and he looked down at his rabbit and teddy, finally deciding both had to come with him and clambered into my arms until I had a hold of one small boy, the huge rabbit, and the purple teddy. The whole pile of us sat in my chair, and we cuddled.
“Who dem?” he asked, right near my ear.
“You mean Eva and Pavel? The children in the spare rooms?”
Noah wriggled in my hold, the teddy stuck under him, and I helped him until we were cozy again. I couldn’t reach my coffee, but none of that mattered when I had an armful of my baby boy.
“Who dem?” he repeated.
“They are Pappa’s cousins, and they are here to live with us.”
“Mmm,” Noah said.
I stroked his head, missing the curls, but seeing the way the short length was already kinking at the ends. Soon, he’d be back to normal, and I hoped to hell he never touched the shaver again. I wasn’t sure Noah really understood, but how the hell was I going to explain in a way that made sense?
“You love rabbit and bear. They are your bestest favorites, right?”
Noah nodded, gripping teddy close and kissing him soundly on the top of his furry purple head.
“What about Choochie?” Choochie was the proposed new Railers mascot. A big-headed bear wearing the uniform of a steam train driver, with the Railers logo front and center. He had the classic big eyes and wide mouth of many a mascot, and I think Noah was disconcerted by the five-foot version that Stan had brought home. It stood in the corner of Noah’s room, along with twenty other cuddly toys. "Is he your favor
ite, too?”
“Nuh-uh,” he said.
“What if Choochie was sad right now, and needed a little boy to love him? What would you do?”
Noah wrinkled his nose in thought, then tugged at teddy’s ear. “Hug him.”
“I think Eva and Pavel are like a sad Choochie,” I explained, realizing as I did that I was probably making no sense. I just knew that Noah had a big heart and so much love to give. “They will stay here forever, like Choochie will, and they need hugs because they are sad.”
He nodded, his eyes wide as he processed, and then he clambered down off my lap.
“Juice,” he announced.
My baby was up, Stan nearly mowed me down as he darted out of our bedroom, and Wolfie was scratching at the door to be let in.
And so my peace was finished.
It didn’t get any better, Stan’s mama was up and cooking, the dogs both milled around, Noah was singing The Wheels on the Bus, over and over, and Stan was pacing outside Eva and Pavel’s room, waiting for them to get up.
“Knock on the door and go in,” I encouraged.
He side-eyed me as if I’d suggested he blow open the door with explosives, but he didn’t have to actually do anything when it opened a little and two sets of gray eyes peered out.
Eva whispered something in Russian. Stan went to an immediate crouch and answered, and there was nothing I could do to help. My Russian lessons were going okay, and hell, I knew how to ask for a burrito in Moscow if I needed one, if there even were burrito places in Moscow. The really emotional stuff, other than I love you—that was harder to learn.
Luckily for me, the doorbell rang, and I was the only one free to answer, so I didn’t have to get involved in whatever Stan was handling. Coward. I opened the door to Arvy, Galina, and, more surprisingly, Sacha. Seeing him made my chest tighten. Why was he here so early? Was some government agency going to take Eva and Pavel back? Over my dead body will they take away our children. I let them all in because three more wasn’t going to make the morning any more chaotic.