Chapter Text
Two six month olds and one two year old do not make for an adequate go-go dancing line.
Sure, the twins can crawl and Jules can imitate Martha Graham with his favorite blankie, but can any of them put on a cohesive performance? In their cribs, James and Jenna focus on sitting themselves up and falling over, not even in sync or to the beat of classic Christina Aguilera songs. They look up at him with bright hazel eyes and drool all over the matching outfits Jared dressed them in this morning.
“That’s highly unprofessional,” Jensen announces to his hoard of babies and toddler. “We do not drool in front of clients. We make them drool over us .”
Jules attempts to make up for his siblings’ lack of discipline by bursting out into song. He sings at random, often to himself, taking extensive artistic liberties. Anytime, anywhere, Jules will practice his musical repertoire, even at two in the morning, when Jensen has daddy on the verge of...
“The things you teach our children,” Jared quips, walking in and leaning on the opposite side of the crib as Jensen. His hair is down and he’s dressed like… not a parent of three.
“Pearls of wisdom. What are you all dressed up for? I thought we were just gonna hang out here.”
“Uh, no.”
Jensen picks up James and whispers in his ear. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you useful stuff. Like, ‘Sorry, I only take twenties in my g-string.’”
Jules approves, launching into a stunning rendition of what might be Clair de Lune on his toy xylophone--a Christmas present from his sadistic aunts.
Jared sighs.
Jensen nods. “That thing’s going to toy heaven tomorrow.”
“Put the baby down and step away with your hands up. We are going out.”
“I’ll miss tummy time.”
“You’ll miss daddy time.”
“Oh… daddy time? What’s that?”
“Nothing if you don’t get going.”
The pair of wicked Aunties Opal and Nova arrive. Minutes later, Jensen rattles off emergency numbers. Just before Jared can yank him out, Jules runs up and gives Jensen a parting gift: a slobbery, slightly sticky (?!) kiss on the chin that’s mostly teeth, and a good smack to the head with his plastic blue spoon.
Outside, Jared kisses him, with less slobber and some teeth.
It’s pretty much the best birthday ever.