Kurt held a squirming Marc as he waited for the bottle of formula to heat up, when he looked down he rolled his eyes when he saw the four month old sucking on the drawstring of his black hoodie. Ever since he had his son, only on special occasions would his designer clothes make an appearance, it came in handy for moments like this especially since the dark colour would hide the baby drool.

Marc started to fuss, growing impatient for his breakfast.

“I know baby, I know,” Kurt cooed as he bounced the baby gently in his arm and tested the temperature of the milk on the back of his wrist. Carole walked into the kitchen and smiled at Kurt before taking the little boy out of his arms.

“If it isn't my gorgeous grandson,” she cooed as she tickled his tummy, the baby momentarily laughing before he started to cry. “Uh oh, he comes the waterworks.”

“He's hungry,” Kurt replied, tightening the lid on the bottle before taking his son back, sitting down on a dinning chair and feeding the little boy who took it greedily. Carole grinned at the scene in front of her before flicking on the kettle.

“Coffee sweetheart?” she asked, grabbing to mugs out of the overhead cupboard.

“Thanks,” he replied, adjusting the bottle in his hand.

“Where's Blaine?” Carole asked curiously stirring a spoon in the mug before placing it down in front of her stepson. Kurt took a sip and smiled contently as the hot liquid touched his taste buds. Since his son had arrived he had learnt quickly to eat one handed while his arm was holding the small child and how to function on minimal hours of sleep with the help of coffee.

“In bed still he doesn't have school today; you know alternating schedules and that. He was up with Marc for an hour last night so I thought I would let him sleep until I had to leave. Besides morning cuddles aren't so bad either,” Kurt told.

“I remember when Finn was a baby, he was so cute-”

“What happened,” Kurt joked to which Carole rolled her eyes. Finn walked into the room rubbing his eyes, walking over to the pantry and placing two pop tarts into the toaster.

“I think having ice cream for breakfast would be more nutritious for you Finn,” Kurt intoned, fixing the bottle more firmly in his son's mouth when he started to grizzle.

“Well if you froze his milk then Marc would be having ice cream for breakfast,” Finn replied before turning on the kettle to make himself a hot chocolate. The countertenor wondered where on Finn's diet plan pop tarts and hot chocolate were.

“How nice of you Finn to pick on a four month old.”

“Marc knows I'm joking, don't you Marcie,” Finn said in a childish manner as he tickled his stomach. The little baby began to giggle but stopped and started to look a little green. Before he could prepare himself, the baby boy threw up all over his dad's black hoodie, the smell of baby vomit penetrating the air.

“Im sorry,” Finn said quickly.

“Get. Out,” Kurt uttered through clench teeth, not watching as the look of fear crossed his step brother's face and sprinted from the room. The countertenor grabbed the paper towel and started to mop up the vomit on his jumper, groaning in frustration when a large white stain appeared on the front of his garment.

“Here Kurt, I'll take him,” Carole offered sweetly, her hands extended towards her grandson but Kurt shook his head.

“No, Blaine has slept in long enough, I think it's time he did some parenting,” he said hotly, stalking off to his room, walking carefully down the stairs. Kurt stood at the foot of the bed staring at him as he slept peacefully. Trying to suppress a smirk the countertenor kicked the mattress forcefully, watching in delight to see his boyfriend instantly wake up.

“Oh good you're awake,” Kurt announced, holding the baby at arm's length. “Now take this vomit creating monster while I have a shower and try to rid myself of this stench.”

“What?” Blaine asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes before running it through his curls.

“Take the baby Blaine,” Kurt ordered forcefully as he held Marc in front of his face, Blaine leant up and picked the baby out of his boyfriend's hand. His face scrunched up when he saw the stain on his son's shirt and lifted the item over his head, leaving him only in a diaper. The curly haired boy leant back, his head resting on the comfortable pillow, laying the little boy on his chest with an arm securely around the baby's midsection. When Marc began to grizzle, Blaine leant over and gathered a blue little pacifier from the bedside table and placed it in the little boy's mouth, grinning proudly when it quietened his son. The curly haired boy looked over at his boyfriend to see him standing shirtless, trying to untie his shoelaces and remove his Doc Martens.

“Personally I like the look but I wouldn't want anyone else at McKinley high seeing you like that,” Blaine said cheekily, Kurt looked at him and scowled before returning to his shoes.

“Im taking a shower genius; Finn decided to tickle Marc while he was having his bottle and threw up everywhere. So Im going to have a shower and rid myself of this stench while you are going to look after our son, think you can handle that?”

“I don't understand why you are acting like this is my fault.”

“Well you were the one that got me pregnant, Blaine,” and with that Kurt slammed the bathroom door, leaving Blaine rolling his eyes and looking into the stunning blue eyes staring down at him. The curly haired boy smiled and pressed a kiss to his son's tiny forehead.

“Don't listen to your crazy daddy; he probably hasn't had his coffee yet. Don't ever drink coffee Marc, it's a gate way drug and you don't want to be addicted like him,” Blaine said with a faux serious tone as he indicated with his thumb to the bathroom door. Obviously he knew his son had no idea what he was saying as he waved his arms around, hitting Blaine in the chest and laughing loudly.

“Exactly,” Blaine responded as though the little boy had agreed with him. The curly haired boy closed his eyes, yawning widely as he did so, a hand lying protectively on the baby's back to stop him from rolling or falling off. Just as he felt himself dozing off, the bathroom door opened to reveal a freshly showered and styled Kurt, dressed simple in dark blue skinny jeans with a black shirt, black blazer and long silk scarf around his neck. The countertenor smiled at him and gathered his messenger bag sitting on the desk before making his way over to his boyfriend and child, sitting on the edge of the queen bed.

“Sorry about before,” Kurt said, sounding a little guilty.

“You're forgiven,” Blaine affirmed. The countertenor checked the time on the bedside table and frowned when he noticed how late he was.

“I have to go,” Kurt told sadly, leaning down and kissing the soft skin of his baby's cheek before kissing the curly haired boy. Blaine smiled into the kiss, groaning when the other boy pulled away.

“Later,” Kurt said, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before hurrying up the stairs.

“There better be a later,” Blaine shouted playfully, a joyful laughed sounded from the stairs. He was just starting imagine his night when a foul stench hit his nostrils.

“Oh Marc, come on,” Blaine whined, sitting up and taking him over to the change table. “I guess changing a diaper is better than being thrown up on.” He pried the diaper open, holding his breath as he almost gagged. He cleaned up the mess but there seemed to be more. Marc grabbed a hold of the baby powder and knocked it off the table, sending it all over the floor, the boy giggling too evilly for his father's liking. The little boy started squirming and tried to escape, making it difficult to fit the new diaper on. After an exhaustingly long time and many more dramas, Blaine was finally cleaning his hands and placed Marc into a clean onesie.

“I take it back,” he whispered, “give me vomit any day over that.”