Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

David wanted a baby almost from the moment the two of them got married and realized fully and completely, not just as an abstract thought, that his cancer was in remission and wasn't coming back because the Power decided he deserved its protection properly. 

But David promised to tread gently when he saw the look on Stan's face and the chill in his eyes when his husband said the word "adoption" one morning six months after tying the knot, making breakfast and having spent the previous night helping Kat fix up their baby room--the amount of beige in the room was extremely disconcerting, but not nearly so much as the number of green dragon plushies Tommy had been buying--and David could feel every muscle in Stan's frame stiffen like tree boughs.

David might have been forever scarred by losing his baby brother to an obtusely racist and prejudiced system when he was no more than five years old, been traumatized by their reintroduction and having to get him back after he'd been brainwashed by an intergalactic witch, but it wasn't the same thing as what Stan went through.

When the eldest Skullovitch son was five, he was basically thrust into being the parent of his newborn brother because his worthless father saw the newborn as a waste of time, and the hideously self-important mother couldn't even be brought to touch him for more than a few minutes. Stan told David once about how his clearest memory of that time was his parents walking almost all the way out of the hospital before Stan stopped dead, looked up to find both of their arms empty, and scurried back to find Eugene in the nursery still wrapped up. The newborn was born too soon, hadn't opened his eyes yet, didn't make a sound, and Stan had been terrified picking him up and carrying him to the car; but he also remembered loving the baby more than anything.

When Stan wasn't even twenty-two, David was there for the aftermath of that confrontation at Promethea between Mrs. Skullovitch giving her youngest the ultimatum to leave "That Thing" with the scientists in the building that would be more than happy to have access to the first creature of its kind, or to leave her house and never come back. Spike was the second smallest infant Stan had ever held, but still so heavy in the wake of Skull's decision (two-thirds dead, every ranger that ever cared about him about ready to shred the miserable bitch to pieces, but more at peace with this reality than anyone had any right to be) and Stan deciding to stick by him; despite the fact that just being there made his flesh crawl.

When Stan started to help babysitting once his brother was out of his twentieth major surgery and could actually walk and hold Spike without crashing to the ground after ten minutes, David was left with a little bit of hunger and a little bit of joy at the image of the hardcore rocker cradling such a tiny thing in toned arms, feeding him with a practiced ease out of memory, and humming lullabies that were almost like a waking dream.

Then there was Tommy and Kat getting pregnant years later, after the cancer, and Spike started curiously asking about another cousin and poking David like he was gonna be the one to have the baby. Stan thought it was hilarious, someone as tall and imposing to an outsider as David almost almost brought to near bursting laughter with his face so red he had to shove it into Stan's shoulder because Spike was convinced that since David had such long hair, he was gonna be the mom, and even tried talking to David's belly a couple times before his uncle finally let up and told Skull it would be in his best interest to tell the child about certain biological impossibilities (followed by laughing for a good hour at the look on is brother's face).

David looked up the rules and regulations and what they'd have to do and brought home the paperwork to go over in the middle of the night when Stan couldn't think of anything to say, so he just helped filling out ink on paper and listened about abandoned newborns and rescue and love and tried not to grit his teeth into the line of his mouth. He even eased up on the fists he'd made, knuckles drawn tight, when David kissed him on the side of the mouth and they signed the last form together, "We'll do fine, Stan."

"...Of course we will."

"I love you."

Stan breathed out and nuzzled into the side of David's neck, into his long hair, appreciating the tang of his husband's sweat as he breathed in and out, suppressing his anxiety building up like flood waters.


--

The little baby had more of David's coloring than Stan's, but apparently he also had other similarities to the taller of the husband's that Stan appreciated almost the second after he'd leaned his head down close to the baby in its cot and the little guy bopped him right on the nose when hands maneuvered under his little wiggling body to pick him up.


He laughed a little and David smiled so wide that it was very swift when his lips banked back into a small 'o' at Stan's pause in the lifting, the way he looked very much like he was contemplating a riddle as he readjusted his hands and grip and bent a little at the knees to bring the baby--Nick, they would call him, short and constant and without the swerve and curl of the extra syllables in the fullness of the given title on paper--up, up, up to see his million watt smile. Before tucking him into the bow of his arm to tickle under his chin, speaking quietly to David as his husband leaned in to smell his scent and smooth the tip of his nose against forehead, eyelid, cheek.


"He is so heavy," Stan started, breathing out the first thing that came to him in this instance, "He is so well fed. Not like a little bird or a puppy. His parents must have loved him, before..."


David ignored the little flinch in his stomach at the little shadow that was hiding in their peripheral, in the back of their minds. Safe Surrender meant he'd been taken to a location where a baby would be tended to, but the parents were never asked questions as to why.


But there was also something else.



(They would know what it was, much later, after Nick could almost be considered an adult, rather than a young adult and it was getting harder and harder for him to get away with calling K--Kimmie, after the godmother who carried her--his "little sister" when she was in earshot like he'd been doing since he'd jumped up and down in the hospital to see her in her tiny cot before David swung him up in his tree bow arms.


The Power knew Power in all its forms. It had a way of drawing its lost children back, and their Gold and Bronze had been weary in their place in the Grid. Observing this tiny little thing born of Red and White that had a Destiny. 


And there was the magic drawing itself inside Nick to help keep him even safer with these two men that were not Udonna, not Leanbow, but were so very good that it could not see a reason to force a call to alert the Realm to his location.)



Brushing the feeling away with a blink, David kissed the child's hand as it came up to investigate this giant with amusingly long hand that smelled weird but nice, giving a little shriek and gurgling giggle as David opened his mouth to nip at fat palm and wrist like a friendly fairy tale beast ready to gobble up this delightful little bundle.


No matter how many times Billy explained the intrusive thoughts everyone seemed to have that included outrageously cute things and the want to do violence in an ephemeral sort of way, neither David nor Stan could remember it.


Especially going forward when they both constantly had to fight back the urge to just pick their little guy up and eat him like a pop-tart.


--


"So...what are we looking at here?"


"Shhhh! Don't ask that question--and don't you tell!"


Miss Fairweather tried very hard not to roll her eyes, still completely convinced that they could have gotten a perfectly good medical professional to do this instead of a Zord engineering professional, but then her conscious always reminded her: Grace Sterling and Terona Washington weren't around anymore and Andrea was almost impossible to get a hold of with her pinging around the galaxy from one alien planet to another. Which made Angela the only other person with knowledge about the Skullovitch available. This family trusted her and she should feel honored.


But by the Grid it was so hard when there were seven to eight members of this family trying to get into the room to check on Kimberly at any given time since she'd said, "Sure, I can be the surrogate if you really wanna try. Nick will be a really good big brother and you two are awesome parents; I'd be honored."


If only Angela had been consulted before they'd gone through the insemination process in Angel Grove. She would never have approved a woman with Kim's body type to carry a baby.


She was short, she was prone to anemia, she was slightly malnourished from her gymnastics career and all that entailed--in spite of her partner being a wonderful man that fed her every chance he got--and, oh, most importantly, her tiny little body was not good for carrying anything longer than five months.


Which was why she was stuck in the hospital for four months. Kim had a very narrow vagina, a tilted uterus, pelvic bones that were entirely wrong for a vaginal birth, and a belly that was still obnoxiously small even in her seventh month (month two if her going stir crazy in bed).


But then things like this happened: the planets aligning just so to remind Miss Fairweather that some things were worth the trouble.


Nick was running around the Aqua Base with Spike and Olympius, with Ryan, Carter, Billy, and David following after them to make sure they didn't get into anything or trip into a water tank. Tommy and Kat had gone to stretch their legs with J.J. between them using their hands like swing tethers. 


The only people in the room were Kim (with her belly covered in that disgusting gel that never seemed to be as warm as she would have like) holding Bulk's hand as he stared at the screen, Stan staring at the wiggling line of white that indicated a baby turning about, and Skull at his brother's side in case he passed out at the image like the big sap he tended to act like when he was full of emotion he couldn't shove down under the impression of ice cold superstar.


Bulk really wanted to know the sex--he was considerate not to say gender, because nobody was sure until the child figured it out for themselves--but Kim kept pressing her hand over his mouth and chastising him about life being full of surprises and no knowing was better.


Skull was just pleased that Angela was good enough to answer the questions he always asked when one of his friends got pregnant--was the baby in the right weight to length ratio, was there any risk for toxemia, was there latent diabetes on the horizon they should look out for, was Kim's blood pressure okay; like a truly responsible adult--and she had to bite back the stupid grin that always lit her up over them.


Stan looked like he was about to cry. But happy tears.


He kept one hand touching Kim's hand and the other skimmed the ultrasound screen. The tip of his index finger swerving the halo of the head that seemed to bounce with Kim's heartbeat.


(Angela did not tell them that the fetus was looking to be a girl, but she did jump up and down on the big day when Kim went through a C-Section and ended up with the little black haired, blue eyed beauty sporting her first name like a badge of honor. It was nice to have a female Skullovitch in the family that Angela would get to watch grow into a fine young lady; all the men in her life supporting the genius mind and blooming artist she would become.)


--


Forty-seven pictures would be hung up throughout the house they settled down in once the kids started going to school and showcased their lives from the moment David and Stan got married surrounded by friends and family (they never thought they would have so many people to call their own) to when little K went off to college at thirteen and when Nick had just graduated high school.


(Before things took a dip in the sureness they'd felt for so long. Nick making a mistake, and Stan's mother putting on the face of someone who wanted to reconnect with her family through her eldest grandchild--never a wolf in a little lamb's clothes; more like a jackal playing at being a nana dog--and Stan being vulnerable and scared enough for his boy that he believed her. David consenting because he'd lost his family once, and he was aware that broken ties could be mended with some effort.


And, oh, the regrets; on all sides.


Nick had been rather keen when he'd called up K at university to ask about the paperwork, looking to grow into a new skin when his own felt a little suffocating, but trying to be funny about it. His little sister had all the answers, as usual, and was used to their family's kind of humor--even if her own brain didn't quite find the same joy in it that others did--but after Nick had thanked her and hung up, she had stood staring at the phone for a good hour until her roommate Summer popped in to ask her of something was wrong.


"I think I might have made a mistake. Or my brother has. But I don't know why and it's... I don't know," she answered, less succinct than she ever was. She even let the chipper blonde settle on her bed and give her a side shoulder hug, offering up buying her dinner for their study session she'd come to pick her up for before they were to meet Scott and Flynn--who were Summer's friends, but had all drawn in protectively around the girl in the first week of other teenagers and young adults trying to bully her so she didn't call her dads crying more than just the one time.)


They were like a mural of their lives. All happiness, and the effects of still being Rangers, and having family made entirely of Rangers that had to keep things on the down low because both David and Stan decided that the less the kids knew until they were adults, or they had no choice but to say the words, the better.


The time after that incident with the Red Rangers, Tommy getting a royal ass chewing not only from Kat, but also David; Nicky not understanding what they were talking about, but more than happy to take a picture of Stan dumping sudsy water on Tommy's head while he'd been sulking in a chair with his very tall big brother pointing a finger at his face, a dishcloth over his shoulder and hair done up in a bun since Tommy thought he could hide there for a little bit.


When Kimmie won her first science fair and Nick carried her around on his shoulders like she was the littlest champion of the world, arms in the air and Stan having shaken up a bottle of sparkling cider to spray them with as David got caught with the cork--that picture having been copied a good dozen times and taped to a lot of freezers and pinned to a lot of cork boards via Zack being a little shit while Violet and Jason rounded up the other kids in the hall and Trini helped Minh get some putty from another display out of her hair.


David making hard rocker hand signs while laid out in a hospital bed, glitter printed letters above his head spelling out "I Lived Bitches" in the aftermath of getting in a fist fight with J.J.'s principal's security officers when he'd been called in lieu of Kat and Tommy being off planet and the fucking prick getting on a nine year old's case for going into the boy's bathroom while being AFAB because the miserable bastard called security when David barely touched him. Of course the security and the principal were brought up on discrimination and brutality charges--but after Stan got his own little bit of revenge that Nick and K never could get a straight answer about. But the photo was a nice reminder Nick liked to carry around in his wallet; what with Stan also being tucked up under David's arm because he'd passed out after a nine hour plane ride and having come back from tour to find his husband in the hospital and his nephew's message on his phone with the little guy in tears.


Nick's high school graduation, complete with riding out of the diploma acceptance ceremony on Stan's motorcycle--precisely five hours before he ended up in the hospital. The after party hospital visit also displayed on the wall, neither dads doing a very good job of hiding their faces trying not to smile as K took the picture while tuning out the sounds of uncles Billy and Skull in the background reading all of them the riot act, Spike curled up as a big black cat on Nick's cast held up on a sling like a smarmy Wonderland beast.


But the absolute favorite they all had a tendency to pause on, same as any guests that popped into the house, was the frame photo of Stan and David asleep on the couch, tiny little K--barely two months old--dozing on David's broad chest, and Nick tucked under Stan's arm squished into the side of the couch so nobody would fall off. They'd had a day of just normal, boring stuff involving kindergarten and colic and Stan trying to push back a meeting with his producer for his next album and David having to call in and schedule a check up for himself concerning his anemia making a come-back. They had all been just tired and looking for a cuddle and a nap and Bulk had popped over with some triple meat lasagna so they wouldn't have to make dinner. He'd snapped the picture at the perfect time and never let anyone forget it.


(It was one of the photos Udonna asked for a copy of when David and Stan visited Briarwood and offered to provide her with more stories and physical memories of the life Nick got to have. Proof that even if Nick hadn't been in her life for very long and she'd cried so much for him, that he'd been loved and was still loved.)


--


Quite frankly, it was totally expected that Stan would pull in on himself on their first visit to Briarwood to meet Nick's teammates, his teacher Daggeron (who Nick tried to keep away from Stan as much as possible, because he'd assumed, and rightly so, that his Pops would bring up Solaris just being a fancy word for Gold), and the actual djinn that neither of them could help from goggling at. The little princess vampire that...was nice, even if David and Nick made a point to tell Udonna to please distract Necrolai with Toby, because Stan could not handle meeting someone who was a trauma trigger from his days of being very small and his mom being a Ranger before she'd basically given up being a mother--let alone a good person.


Although seeing Fire Heart was a treat, and meeting their son's cousin that both of them made a big deal about being a Purple, gushing a little to embarrass Nick as much as possible, "It's good to finally have a girl in the family for your sister to dish dirt on you about. And Bulk is gonna flip when he finds out there's another dual Color in the family!"


The look on Nick's face when his teammates heard that was so worth the ear chewing they were going to get later. Apparently Nick was still covering up his shyness and anxiety around crowds with being exactly like Stan in all the ways that counted--standoffishness, aloofness, fixing things as an excuse not to be somewhere with a lot of talking.


Then both men were introduced to Phineas via the troblin falling out of a tree as per usual, and...



Well, at some point he'd somehow garbled up about Nick turning out good, "I was worried about dropping him in the human world, don't get me wrong. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do--and I've done some hard graft. That thing with the Boulder Roller ain't nothing to sneeze at, and the ticks you get living in these woods--"


"Wait, wait," Stan balked, head snapping up from where he'd been looking over at Nick trying to show off some new magic spells for David in a practice fight with Daggeron, only to end up with his legs knocked out from under him and on his back with the wind knocked out, "You're the one who brought Nick to the human world? But I thought Udonna and Leanbow hid him there?"


"Ah," the sharp faced man grimaced, swinging his arms back and forth stiffly before bringing them together to fidget with awkwardly, "No. Uh, ya see...Leanbow was saving the realm from the Master, and Udonna was helping her sister cut our world off in case Leanbow failed. Daggeron, well, he was on his way with Bowen--I mean, Nick--to hide him until the battle was over. But there was a fight with a traitor and, well, I was around and the baby would have been totally defenseless if Daggeron lost, so..."


Phineas ducked his head down, rubbing one hand through his hair as he pulled off his hat, before yanking it back on to look up and look Stan directly in the eye, David moseying over at a lope with the impression that his husband was about to make someone cry.


(More like the opposite, actually.)



"No, yeah, I'm the one that took Nick to the human world. Without telling anyone, which I know looks bad but--um?"



David looked very much how Stan probably felt as he tossed his usual tough guy persona to the winds and wrapped his arms around Phineas to give the confused troblin a bone-crushing hug. One that shook a little as he was trying not to cry in an obvious fashion even with his husband blocking the view of them like the tree trunk he was. 


How very strange it was for Phineas when nobody ever hugged him without him inciting it first.


"Thank you," Stan managed after a squeeze, pulling back to wipe at the red of his eyes and the slick building there, "For saving our son. And giving him to us."



He stepped back and found his back to David's chest, the Gold Ranger pulled him in to cuddle a little, brush their cheeks side to side as he offered up his own hand for the troblin to take, shaking twice and then holding to grip with warmth and the kind of smile Phineas would probably remember forever as the standing promise from the universe telling him he did the right thing.



"Yes, you have our love and our thanks," was said low and genuine and with so much emotion that both David and Stan would be feeling it on the ride back to Angel Grove in the next couple of days, "We'll never not be grateful."



Nick, bless him, could smell the awkwardness even from his place on the ground as Daggeron got another good swipe in and was good enough to call his dads over from their little moment.



They left Briarwood with an assured promise that they'd call Nick to tell him they got home safely, and a promise that Nick would call them the next week so they could confirm plans to go out to dinner with K since she was finishing her last year of college and they wanted to really celebrate together.



The country air and the back roads and the feeling that followed them out of that magically infused forest kept them riding very close together, reminiscing and nostalgic and looking forward to getting home with their wind raked hair and wind stung faces wide and smiling.


They'd be alright.

Chapter Text

The one little kind of feeling of dismay that Stan and David might have run aground of, first with Nick and then with Kimmie, was that having two small children in a house that was built for acoustics meant they had to either be very sneaky or very quiet when it came to alone time.


In Nick's first year with the two it didn't really come up because they were both so happy and anxious and excited and cautious all at once that when they had time together alone on the couch or in bed or together in the shower, they just...kissed. Kissed deep and with feeling and with Stan's free hand--the other one was usually wrapped around a baby monitor or a bottle or a stuffed toy or the hand of the sleeping child himself (yes, he was the clingy one, and did not take shit about it when Tommy and Zack brought it up)--running through David's hair like ribbons of satin. While David smiled and rubbed their noses together as often as possible.


After the toddler could run around for hours at a time, though, things got...a little more pressing.


But, that could easily be taken care of during Nick's nap time or when he went out with Skull or Tommy to play in the park with J.J. and Spike.



The second the door shut, they had roughly between thirty to forty minutes to get off, and David usually got tackled onto the sofa with Stan locking his teeth along his neck, or lips sucking on his tongue as they ripped each other's shirts off, belts snapping about, buttons and zippers being undone with haste.


They couldn't going into the full run, because they would never stop being paranoid about someone running back to get a sandwich or a different pair of shoes, but Stan usually managed to get down on his knees between David's thighs and take up the ever waiting hard-on with one, two, three gulps, lips skimming the head and the underside responding easily to his wicked pink tongue; his long fingers and big hand kneading up into the soft conclave of belly or up higher to grind palms to nipples.


"Fuck, oh my--"


A thumb in David's mouth, like a hook to a fish, stopped and stalled him, helping him embrace rocking his hips up until he spilled into the back of Stan's throat, wicked-pretty-fierce eyes looking directly into his as he swallowed up the white; pink tongue swiping across his lips like a coyote.


David felt spoiled, always, because half the time he didn't even get to offer up his hand or mouth in recompense--the sounds of little feet on the porch, keys jangling not far behind with Tommy calling for the little ones to slow down or he'd drop their lunch pulling them apart to get themselves put back together; often with Stan launching off and up to the master bathroom to take care of the problem himself.




Then Kimmie came along and Nick was in preschool and they were lucky if they had the chance to kiss deep, grope each other doing laundry, or rut between the other's thighs in the night when little ones were supposed to be sleeping.


(Stan felt bad that he'd laughed at Billy's advice not to let the children sleep in their bed, seriously, "They'll get used to it, and come to you at the first opportunity, the first idea of bogeymen, or a noise in the night. You will appreciate the fortitude it takes to put your foot down early."


Stan realized, after the third time being interrupted playing grab ass under the covers with his husband by Kimmie suffering colic and Nick running to them claiming there was a skeleton under the bed and could he sleep with them for the night, that what Billy meant was, "You have to have boundaries so you can sleep with your husband.")




But-but-but once Nick was in fourth grade and Kimmie was coming up right behind him in second (her teachers kept insisting she could actually start college in just a few short years, but David believed in social and psychological development and Stan would have broken down crying at the very idea of Kimmie going anywhere near a college campus before she hit puberty) and they were finding themselves desperate; Stan realized that he had the best little brother in the world.


David just wouldn't stop hugging the too thin man when he popped by with Spike one day in May with hotel room reservations and tickets to a private dinner and a show that would last three days starting the Friday of a federal holiday, with the promise that he would look after the kids.


"You guys need a naughty weekend. At least a couple times a year. Your intimate lives are none of my business, but come on, look at you!"


They took the tickets, promised Nick and K they'd bring back gifts from the show (always it was a show, followed by dinner, followed by being alone and unbothered by the rest of the world unless it was to call in take-out or room service or to take an emergency call involving Rangering or general things that could be ignored), and worshiped at Billy and Skull's alter for being the best babysitters that kept Nick and K occupied in a way that meant they only texted their dads to say good night or good morning so that when they returned home Stan and David were fully charged and ready to get back to domestic stuff.



(Pinning Stan under the thick trunk of his body, hands woven together as if in prayer, David breathed in the smell of sweat and musk and bit down on the frail bird-like shoulder blades as Stan moaned with the stretch and burn of David's cock. The bounciness of the hotel beds spoke to their expense and the industrial type detergent smell promised that they were clean as well and kept their minds in tandem and focused solely and completely on the promise of this orgasm, this hour stretching set of tongue kissed and licks gliding down glistening bodies, this haze of afterglow that could just soak in without worry.


The three pizzas they'd ordered and half devoured since their tripping over each other to get to the bed added to the reality that they were alone together; spinach and mushroom, chicken Parmesan with globs of chili pepper, and deep dish that would cling to their clothes for days in end--all flavors and styles that their children would never eat and they were missing from their early days together when they ate either too little or like slobs.


When David came with half a bellow and Stan followed not far along after him, streaking white into David's pumping hand as the taller of the two tilted his head so they could slick tongues and kiss awkwardly, the musician chuckled warmly; a long arm snaked over the edge of the bed and found the closest box of greasy quasi-pseudo Italian to bring up onto the mattress.


He offered up a slice of the spinach-mushroom, still gooey and piping, nibbling on the crust as David opened wide to accept the offering, "Next round, I call dibs on riding that tight ass of yours until you cum three times."


David swallowed with emphasis and lewdness, licking the underside of Stan's wrist, moving up and along to his shoulder, "Arm wrestle for it?")




...And then they hit middle age, their house was suddenly empty with K off to college and Nick sorting himself out after the nasty realization that he was from a way different species than their own, being a Ranger, trying to find his way into having a steady relationship with his Dads and his biological parents. They had slightly fewer tours on the road, for music and for activism.


Being able to do whatever they want felt...strange.


But it also meant getting to know each other again. Like being teenagers and young adults, but without the despair and desperation and then impulse to live every moment to the fullest or else--just...


It was weird.


But also they were really happy.


Stan got back into waking up with the lark again, making David the breakfast of champions (choco-chip waffles and thick slices of bacon on the side) before he went out to work on the truck they'd had for over twenty years together.


David relearned how to knit and often donned one of his own oversized creations in loving bronze-gold fat armed hoodies, complete with geometric patterns that looked positively psychedelic and gardened more often than not; he even went fishing sometimes so he could make them both super fresh dinners and lunches.


They re-discovered the joys of feeling each other up without a care in the world, making out for hours, and dry humping.


It was awesome.