Des is flabbergasted, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to speak, but words are failing him. He's staring, wide-eyed, at his son, the one and only fruit of his loins, his beautiful (not-quite-so) baby boy, his shining star, whose once luscious black locks have been shorn off into an odd emo punk hairdo. One half of Jack's head is completely bald and dear god, shiny, while his remaining hair has all been combed forward and gelled down so that it shrouds his eye.

Jack is beaming proudly at his horrified father. "Well, Dad, what do you think?"

The most that Des can manage in answer is to wildly flail his arms and sputter incoherently.
notaballad: (Smiling)
Father. It was a word that Desmond thought would never be applied to him, in any sense, but here he is, standing beside his son's bed, watching the three year old sleep. It's not as creepy as it sounds; he's seated on the edge of the foot of the bed. He'd thought he'd heard a noise in Jack's room, a cranky whine or a terrified whimper, but when he'd come into the room, Jack had been peacefully sleeping, the covers kicked away.

Desmond had smiled softly and tucked his little boy back in, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Jack had shifted a little in his sleep, smacking his lips together, but hadn't awoken. That had gotten another chuckle out of Desmond; it looked like his son was going to be just as heavy a sleeper as him. Desmond recalls his mother and brother both telling him that he could sleep through a bomb going off right next to him.

He'd taken a seat on the bed, just marveling at Jack, at how much he resembles Desmond. He'd expected the novelty to wear off by now, but he has to admit, he loves the little kid. He loves watching Jack discover things, he loves seeing that little face light up with wonder. He also loves spoiling him, probably a bit too much, if Desmond is honest with himself.

He knows there's more to being a father than just buying his kid presents and playing with him. There have been a few times that he's had to scold Jack for doing something that he shouldn't, and he's sure there are going to be rough patches when Jack gets older. He only hopes that he can be a good dad to Jack.

"I love you, kiddo," he whispers as he stands up and gives Jack another forehead kiss before slipping out of the room and heading back to his own.

Being a father isn't something that Desmond ever expected he'd want out of life, but now he's glad he's getting the opportunity.
May 19, 2006
Desmond swallowed heavily as he watched – via the full length mirror he stood in front of -- his brother adjust his bowtie. He’d never really mastered that art, but Jude made it look so easy. Desmond supposed that it came from so many award shows and CD release parties his jazz musician twin had to attend.

They were dressed identically in black tuxedos with crimson cummerbunds and the only distinguishing feature was the long bangs that flopped into Jude’s face. Desmond’s hair, while long in the front, was elegantly swept back and gelled to stay in place. The special occasion for which they were dressed was neither an award show nor a CD release party; it was Desmond’s wedding.

The bride, Laura Harden, had been Desmond’s girlfriend for nearly a year and a half, and he’d proposed six months ago. Jude had argued with him that it was too soon, but Des – ever the stubborn twin – had gone ahead and proposed anyway. Now, unfortunately, fifty nine minutes before he was supposed to walk down the aisle, Desmond Jones Molloy was wishing that he’d actually listened to his older brother.
Jude could tell that his twin was nervous... )
[Jude is [ profile] thatsamesadsong and is used with permission and love. Laura is a product of my imagination. No brides were harmed in the making of this fic.]
1) 17 year old me, DO NOT sleep with your brother's girlfriend, no matter how tempting it may be since it's your first time and she's mistaking you for Jude anyway. IT IS NOT WORTH IT.

2) 12 year old me, just because you dropped out of the boy's choir is no reason that you have to stop singing altogether.

3) 14 year old me, just stay home from school on April 12. Don't ask. Just stay home.

4) You're going to meet a girl named Laura Harden when you're 23. She's in your Economics class and she hates Mr. Brunwell as much as you do. You're going to crack a joke about his toupe and she's going to laugh, even though it was the lamest joke ever. You're going to think she's pretty and you'll ask her out on a date. She's going to tell you no and that's okay, because you're going to keep asking her out on dates for two years until finally, finally, she says yes. Now, I could tell you not to ask her to marry you three months after that first date and I could tell you to make sure that you wear a condom when the two of you have sex the week before your wedding, but then you'd miss out on the most frightening yet potentially most rewarding experience of your life. You see, Laura gets pregnant and she doesn't tell you about it because you ditch her at the altar. You don't get married to Laura because you get cold feet, you realize at the last second that it's not where you're supposed to be, that she's not The One like you thought. Two years later, she's going to show up on your doorstep with a toddler, the cutest little boy you'll ever see, and she'll tell you that he's yours and then just hand him over and leave. You'll freak out at first -- hell, I'm still freaking out -- but I'm optimistic that it will be okay. You've got your family, you've got Gabriel and Jack is the cutest kid.

5) You're never going to get the Han Solo desk. Just give it up. Everybody but you thinks it's hideous and you don't have the space for it. Just let it go, man.

6) It wasn't your fault. I know that you think that you should've done something more, but you did everything that you could. Let it go.

7) Jumping off that proverbial ledge when you started dating Gabriel? Best thing you'll ever do.

8) Never stop laughing, even when it hurts too much and you don't think you'll ever stop crying.

9) Listening to Marcy Weller when she tells you that the coast is clear and it's okay to make your left turn is a very bad idea. Marcy is not wearing her contacts, so she can't accurately judge the distance between your sweet little Firebird and that pickup truck.

10) Everything is going to be okay.
You've just been transported ten years in your past. Where are you and what do you see?

The year is 1999, and Desmond Molloy is seventeen years old, a high school senior who's counting down the days until he's free. He's roused out of bed by his twin brother, Jude, and the first thing that he does once the covers are shoved aside and he's gotten out of bed is grab a red Sharpie marker off the bedside table, uncap it and draw a big X through that date's square on the calendar. He grins brightly, giving a satisfied nod. It's the 22nd of May, which is a special day in and of itself because it means that Jude and Des are turning eighteen, but it also signifies that there are only eight days of school left before he graduates.
He's beyond excited... )
Des chuckled as he stretched, flopped on the couch while he watched TV. Gabriel was in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes from dinner. Des had tried to help him, but he'd just kept getting in the way and distracting Gabriel by grabbing his ass. Gabriel had finally had to banish Des to the living room, citing the fact that he wanted to get the work done before it was morning.

He arched an eyebrow as he heard a knock at the door, and he tossed the remote onto the couch as he sat up. "Hey, Gabriel, were you expecting somebody?" he called toward the kitchen as he got to his feet.

"What? No," Gabriel called back. "Who is it?"

"I have no idea!" Des yelled. "Gimme a chance to answer the door, babe!" He laughed lightly and then crossed over to the door, glancing through the peephole. He sucked in a startled breath, completely shocked by the sight of a petite brunette, a toddler balanced on her hip. He recognized her, but it had been a good two, almost three years since he'd last seen her. Part of him wanted to turn away from the door and just pretend that nobody was home, but he knew that she would probably knock again, and then Gabriel would come out and answer the door himself, making things even more awkward.
His mouth was dry, and he tried to swallow... )


Desmond Molloy

September 2011

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