"Hi sweetie," Scott smiled down at the small boy. He wiggled his legs at the sight of his fathers.
Mitch pressed his lips on the glass, kissing it.
"I want to hold him," Scott said.
"I know...me too," Mitch sulked.
"Do you think we could take him out?"
"What are you crazy? We can't, remember?" Mitch looked at him funny.
Scott studied Mitch's face, the his son.
"I'll be right back," he said.
-------------------------------------------
"Yeah, you can hold him," the nurse said casually walking into the room in front of Scott.
"What?" Mitch perked.
"I'll take him out for you guys."
"But, but I thought we couldn't, I don't understand," Mitch said.
"He's fine. We just have to be extra cautious for the first few days as his immune system builds. Here, puts these on and scrub your hands in the sink over there," she handed them both a sterile blue gown to wear. They got dressed and washed up quickly.
"Okay, hi buddy," she whispered as she unhooked Michael from a couple of the tubes and placed him in Mitch's arms.
Mitch almost fell to the floor in disbelief. His knees felt weak. His heart arms grew tense, knowing he held something very fragile.
"Hi Michael," Mitch spoke soft. He rubbed the boy's tiny back gently.
Then, it was Scott's turn. He cradled the child near his chest. Michael hiccuped. "Awwh," Scott smiled.
He looked into Michael's deep blue eyes. They looked just like his. He lightly stroked his feather like wisps of hair. His tiny hands felt squishy. Tender. Soft. Everything about Michael seemed surreal. Seeing him from a cage is one thing, but to actually 'feel' his body is heart wrenching. A tear fell from Scott's eye. He loved this boy.
He loved his boyfriend.
He loved his life.
He hoped that this feeling would last forever.
But too much of a good thing, won't be good for long.
