Work Text:
One of the best things about working from home and not in a stuffy office, Charlie had decided, was getting to see Nick and their ten-month-old daughter Amelie interact throughout the day.
It was a random Friday afternoon in August; the weekend was tantalisingly within reach, and with Nick working as a teacher, he was currently off work for the school holidays and able to be at home with Meelie every day, rather than her going to daycare. Charlie loved the days he didn’t have to travel into London and was able to watch Nick and their daughter bond.
The only negative was that, as it was a glorious summer's day, it was causing a rather sticky and humid environment in their house. Charlie was currently working in denim cutoffs and a tank top, having abandoned his dress shirt long ago; the minute his last meeting of the day had finished, it had been whipped off and flung to a far corner of the room.
Charlie sighed and curled one leg under himself as he shifted his position, his sweaty legs sticking slightly to the wood of the dining chair. He had multiple books and sheets of paper spread out over the table, his laptop propped up on top of one of Nick’s cake stands to free up space for his folios.
The particular manuscript he was working on today was going to be the death of him - written by some arrogant wankpuffin who mixed up effect and affect constantly and was demanding enough to be one step away from asking Charlie to rewrite the entire work for them.
In other words, a nightmare client.
Charlie lifted his pen to start striking through more sentences when one massive perk of working from home came wandering into the room - a shirtless Nick wearing only a tiny pair of rugby shorts and carrying Amelie in a duck-patterned swimming costume, both of them clearly having had enough of the garden paddling pool.
It took approximately three seconds before Nick started chuckling.
“If you’re that thirsty, I can top up your glass for you,” Nick smirked.
Charlie cleared his throat and busied himself with the papers in front of him. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Nick said. “Tell that to your peeping eyes, I saw you.” He set Amelie down on the floor, where she proceeded to crawl towards her toys with delight, and picked up a t-shirt from the pile of laundry on the sideboard. “Well, time to get a final look as I’m about to put a shirt on.”
“Spoilsport,” Charlie whispered, causing Nick to giggle and say ‘I knew it!’.
Charlie got back to his work, until a short while later when he heard Amelie shouting indignantly.
“Pa pa pa buh ba baaaaaa!”
It made Charlie glance up from his screen to see that Nick had lifted her into the air and was blowing raspberries on her tummy while she squawked and babbled back at him. Charlie realised he was smiling at the scene unfolding before his eyes rather sappily, but he couldn’t bring himself to care - their precious tiny daughter, how good a dad Nick was and how happy the three of them were was turning his brain into giddy goop.
“Right, Miss Moo,” Nick said, sitting on the floor with his back to the sofa. He placed Amelie in a standing position on his thighs, and she grasped the front of his t-shirt in her tiny fists to balance herself.
“Hi Hi!” she chirped in Nick’s face.
“Hi sweetheart,” he replied with a smile, leaning forward to kiss her little nose.
Charlie threw the red pen he was holding onto the nightmare manuscript in front of him, unable to handle this cuteness.
Welp, goodbye world, it’s been nice knowing you!
While Charlie tried (and failed!) to gather together any brain cells that weren’t currently swoony mush, Nick lifted Amelie with one arm and grabbed the remote control from the sofa with the other.
“Will we put on some songs?” Nick asked in a soft, gentle voice. “Yes, I think so, baby girl. Maybe you’ll have a nap on Papa, hmm? Will we have some Cocomelon?”
Charlie started to drift back to his work, leaving Nick and Amelie to their own devices. He picked up his pen, sighing as he circled yet another mix-up of words; this time, it was adverse and averse that the author was confusing.
Around thirty minutes later, Charlie was debating his third iced coffee of the day when his ears pricked up at what Nick was saying.
“Meelie pops, I think it’s time for the family finger song!”
Excuse me?!
“The what?” Charlie asked, knowing his expression was equally scandalised and amused. “A song about some family fingering sounds very incestuous, Nicholas!”
Nick gave him a withering stare from where he was still sitting on the floor, Amelie now leaning back against his chest as she watched the brightly coloured animations on the screen.
“No, Char, for fucks sake!” he laughed. “It’s a song about the names of the fingers and what they can do -.”
Charlie snorted, interrupting him. “Okay... cause that sounds so much better!”
Nick ignored this comment and pressed play on the next video.
Charlie grinned as he went back to his work - but this time, with one eye on the TV screen. He saw the familiar logo of Cocomelon and the chipper shouts of ‘A! B! C! Kid TV!’ announcing that a video was about to begin.
“One! Two! Three! Four! Five!” Nick sang in a terrible American accent.
“Figh!” Amelie echoed in reply.
Nothing could have prepared Charlie for the song when it started.
“Daddy finger, Daddy finger, where are you?” Nick sang. “Here I am, here I am, how do you do?”
Pardon?
Charlie’s ears and eyes were now fully honed in on the TV screen.
🎵 Daddy finger, Daddy finger, what’s your name?
Thumb I am, Thumb I am, Call me thumb. 🎵
“Hmm, I do love a Daddy’s fingers,” Charlie thought absentmindedly.
But then Nick coughed slightly, and Charlie realised with equal horror and amusement that maybe that wasn’t a thought.
Wait, shit, did I say that out loud? Whoops!
Charlie started giggling silently into the papers spread across the table, grateful for the laptop screen in front of him giving him a not-so-subtle place to hide. Unfortunately for Charlie, it kept getting worse.
🎵 Mommy Finger, Mommy finger where are you?
Here I am, Here I am, how do you do!
Mommy finger, Mommy finger, what’s your name? 🎵
“I am called index finger, you know me,” Nick sang, clapping Amelie’s little hands together in time to the music.
“Yup, we’re very well acquainted,” Charlie muttered quietly, smirking.
“What was that?” Nick asked sharply, pretending to glare over his right shoulder at Charlie.
“Nothing, nothing,” Charlie grinned back sweetly.
“Hmm,” Nick hummed. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Charlie batted his eyelashes. “No idea, none at all.”
🎵 Brother finger, Brother finger, where are you?
Here I am, here I am, how do you do?
Brother finger, Brother finger, what’s your name?
Middle finger, middle finger, now you know me! 🎵
“Yup, I know you too,” Charlie giggled.
“And I know you’re a fucking menace,” Nick said.
“But there’s incest , just like I said,” Charlie declared.
This earned another glare from Nick - this time though, his eyes were twinkling with mirth.
“Char…” Nick warned. “Behave!”
“Nahh,” Charlie grinned.
“Twat.”
🎵 Sister finger, Sister finger, where are you?
Here I am, here I am, how do you do?
Sister finger, Sister finger, what’s your name? 🎵
“Ring finger, ring finger, I wear the ring,” Nick sang, with Amelie bouncing on her little legs in time to the beat.
Charlie, at this point, was wheezing. “All depends who’s topping,” he managed to get out through his laughter.
Nick snorts. “Brilliant. Fucks sake, how do you manage to turn even a children’s song into something dirty?”
“Me!? Have you listened to the lyrics? It’s absolute filth, Nicholas!”
🎵 Baby finger, baby finger, where are you?
Here I am, here I am, how do you do
Baby finger, baby finger, what's your name?
That’s my name, Baby Finger, that is my name 🎵
There was a break in the song for the five characters to giggle and dance creepily on the TV screen before they began singing the immortal line of Daddy Finger, Daddy Finger, Where are you again.
“So,” Nick started. Charlie glanced over at him; he was staring with raised eyebrows and a little half smile that always drove Charlie feral. “Have you finished destroying a children’s classic with your smutty little mind, or is there anything else you’d like to say? Hmmm?”
“No, no, I’m good,” Charlie said. “I can behave.”
”Unlikely.”
At that moment, the next song started playing on YouTube. It was Wash Your Hands, to the tune of Row, Row, Row Your Boat.
Charlie saw Nick glance in his direction, with an expression that clearly meant, ‘ Find something dirty in this, I dare you!’
🎵 “Wash, wash, wash your hands,
Wash them nice and clean!
Scrub them here, scrub them there,
And scrub them in between! 🎵
Neither of them spoke for about ten seconds before Charlie burst into laughter.
"Well, they better clean their hands after all that fing-"
"CHAR!"