NO...............................

“I want to talk to you about something,” Even says and Isak’s stomach literally falls out of his ass. Thing is, there’s a reason for this. Because the last time Even had used that specific phrase, he had just been accepted into a film school. In London. And Isak had just been accepted into a biomedical research position in Oslo. Of course, it all worked out in the end because they are Isak and Even and they’re like, fated, or some shit that Even always says in the nighttime hours, but damn was that a rough couple of months.

So like, the phrase causes a brief flash of panic.

Isak glances at the table– which probably should have been his first clue that something was up. Even had made all of his favorite foods for dinner. And he knew he spotted strawberry shortcake in the kitchen, so Even had gone for the big guns in buttering Isak up.

He swallows the bite of chicken and takes a swig of red wine (because he is now one classy motherfucker.) “Okay?”

Even taps his fingers on the table and then reaches up to take his own sip of wine, but puts it back down just as quickly. “Okay. Okay here we go.”

But Even says nothing right after that, so Isak has all the time in the world to fucking lose his mind.

“Even,” Isak hedges, “Baby. You’re freaking me out. Like a lot.”

“I know.” Even shakes himself, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how you’re going to take it and this is like- a life changing conversation so I’m trying to be articulate and get it right on the first try.”

Isak runs a hand through his hair, “Well, are you divorcing me?” 

Even shoots him the most deadpan look in the world, so Isak lets a little smile tug on the corner of his lips, “Okay good. You’re not pregnant, are you?”

Even freezes and opens his mouth and Isak raises his eyebrows, “That was a joke. Even, if you’re pregnant I need to have a serious discussion with someone about the laws of biology.”

Even throws a wadded up napkin, “I’m not fucking pregnant, you shit.” He plays with the collar of his white cuffed shit (Another! fucking! red! flag! because when the hell have they ever dressed up for each other?), “But like- it has to do with that.”

“Just come out and say it,” Please god, say it before Isak has an aneurysm, “Whatever it is, do it.”

So he does.

Even takes a deep breath and says, “I want to talk about adopting a kid.”

Isak blinks.

There is a bit of ringing in his ears, so he doesn’t quite hear the way Even scoots his chair back and slides to his knees right in front of Isak’s chair, “Baby?”

Me baby?” Isak says dumbly, “You want a baby. Like a real baby.”

“Yeah,” Even’s voice is level, controlled. “Yeah, I really do, Isak. And it doesn’t have to be now. But I want to talk about it with you.”

“With me,” he repeats dumbly, “You want a kid with me? Why? Oh my god, Even, I’m a mess. I’ve been going commando for the past week because I ran out of boxers and I’m too lazy to do laundry!”

That damn grin at the corner of Even’s mouth nearly does him in. The quick kiss Even presses to his lips does, “You are the only person I would ever want a kid with.”

Isak grabs his wine glass and chugs it, “A kid. Like you and me adopting a kid and taking care of it and raising it until it’s 18. Changing diapers and… going to school performances and… rocking it when it gets sick.”

Even nods softly, “And taking family vacations to the beach…. teaching him or her all about movies… and you can teach them about parallel universes and other science stuff.”

“Holy shit, Even…. you want a kid. With me.”

“I do.”

Isak thinks about it, like a home movie where the actors haven’t quite all been chosen. He sees himself and Even, and a little human with flashes of blonde hair and hears baby giggles and-

He sees Even folded into a tiny little bed with a children’s book on his lap and a nameless, faceless, child (their child) in his lap. And Even is grinning and reading to them in funny voices. Then he sees himself behind a kid, directing them on how to look in a telescope.

He sees so much.

“This is a big thing,” Isak says, “A really, really big thing. Are you sure you want to?”

“The only thing I have ever been sure of in my life is you, Isak. I want to do this with you.”

“Okay,” Isak breathes, “Fuck. Let’s adopt a kid.”

6

the penumbra podcast; sir damien

o saint damien, you of patience, of calm, of the quiet waves and gentle breeze, grant me your tranquility–the strength to wait while i must, to let the world flow through me–and to strike when the time is right