“Look, I’m telling you, the magic internet box says rum helps when they’re teething. I don’t know why you all seem so offended.”

this-too-too-sullied-flesh:

He was being glared at by a prince and a princess, the former seeming scandalized by the suggestion. The queen regarded him with a wary expression, muttering something about how she’d used whiskey with Henry and he turned out just fine, clearly uncomfortable with agreeing with Killian in any fashion. Emma was the only one who appeared amused, jostling her complaining brother in her arms and smothering her smile once her father looked over at his two children.

“I’m sure there are more natural ways to keep Neal from screaming all night long,” Snow said, breaking the stand-off. She reached out for the squalling baby, but that only seemed to make him angrier. Snow shushed and began bouncing, the screams now punctuated by hiccups from the movement.

“Here,” Dave called, reaching for his son. But it seemed the lad didn’t want his father, either.

“Let Killian try,” Emma said, still amused. “He’s great with kids.”

“No, I–”

But his protestations seemed to only encourage the prince. With a smirk, Dave walked over and nearly dropped his precious cargo in Killian’s arm, keeping the boy steady until Killian awkwardly shuffled the bundle to the crook of his right elbow.

“I’ve got it, mate,” he gritted out, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into and cursing his damned mouth for intervening. Rum, what the hell had he been thinking? He lifted his other arm–why, he did not know–reaching for something, anything to stop the screaming.

The princeling suddenly ceased and there was a sense of dramatic pause in the room as all held their breath. Killian looked down, amused at the drool running down the little one’s chin, wishing he could swab it away and settling for using the blunt curve of his hook to dab at the worst of it.

He half-expected one of the boy’s parents to rush in, admonishing him about pointy hooks and delicate flesh, but they did no such thing. In fact, when he looked up, he realized there were looks of amazement on both of their faces. Regina seemed impressed (or perhaps relieved) despite herself, and Emma merely looked satisfied. He gave her a quick little grin before turning back to the royal babe tucked into his arm, shocked when he felt a tug on his left wrist.

The lad was chewing on his hook. Quite happily, from the looks of it. Neal’s indistinct eyes of blue were fixed on Killian as he gnawed away, his angry red face finally settling into a look approaching contentment.

“Hey, Google says to let him chew on something cold and kinda big so he won’t choke on it,” Henry said as he burst into the room, his voice a bit loud and too boisterous for the new silence. “Oh,” he continued as he stopped short, taking in the scene before him. “Well. The internet suggested putting a damp washcloth in the freezer, but I guess that works, too.”

“I vow to you, there’s no rum on this thing,” Killian said smugly. He began to sway gently but rhythmically as he held the baby, and if Dave muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “that you know of,” well. Killian could hardly help it if he was a natural.