Daddy & Papa

Noah was born into what would have been a very bad life. He was barely alive when he was born due to his teenaged mother not understanding that pot houses are no place for a pregnant woman, even if you aren't actually smoking. It was two men, his adoptive fathers, that save him though. The two fairly young men had been married for two years before they decided to try and adopt. A year later little Noah was handed into their crazy, fun life's.

Noah William Bassum Barakat-Gaskarth, they named him. It was a long one but both young men, Jack and Alex, knew it was perfect.

The struggles were far worse than either man had ever thought. The waking up in the night multiple times, the stinky dippers, constantly having to feed the baby. Not to mention the mulitiple hospital trips and doctor check ups they had to get Noah to, just to check on his lungs and motor skills. They were lucky they had enough money from the band to take a break and still be fine financially. They were also very lucky that despite his birth mothers stupidness he was practically okay.

When Noah was three they knew they couldn't hold off on the band any longer. All four members were craving to get back to doing something, anything. So for a year they spent about three days out of the week at each others houses, writing a new album.

Since he was brought into the home of his two loving fathers Noah was exposed to music. Weather it was Alex singing him to sleep, or just singing to sing. Or if it was Jack playing some new pop song louder than need and dancing like the fool he was around the house with the baby in his arms. Noah could always find peace and happiness in the music. Alex's voice calmed him, while Jack's silly dancing made him laugh, clap his hands, and try to dance just like his Papa did. Both men were glad that their baby took such a liking to the music.

When they finished the writing they took what they had to the studio to record and tweak. They worked on their new album, the first thing they'd done as a band in four-nearly five-years, and Noah was always there. Alex wasn't ready to hire a babysitter or nanny and neither was Jack, even though he never vocalized his opinion. None of the other guys matter though, Noah was a big help, well most of the times. There were days when the toddler would get whiny, tired of being with them, wanting to go run outside, or touch all of the papers and buttons, scribble on the lyrics, the music sheets. Jack was always really good with helping their whiny toddler find something to do other than whine. He'd play hide and seek with the boy, laughing when Noah would find him, pretending he didn't know where Noah was when the boy was clearly under his chair or behind his Uncle Zacky. Somehow in Noah's mind behind Uncle Zacky was one of the best hiding spots ever. It may have been his big body that made Noah believe that, either way Jack always knew where his son would be hiding.

On those days Alex would get lost in his own mind as he'd stare at his two boys with the biggest smile on his face. Every single time he'd get up from where he was and walk right into Jack's arms. He'd look up at his husband with wide eyes and kiss his lips lightly. "I love you," he'd tell Jack. Jack would smile back and return the kiss. Then he'd tell his husband the same three words, meaning every one. Noah would run up to his dads and stretch his arms up as high as he could, not wanting to be left out. Jack would bend down and pick up the boy, hold him close between both of their chests. "Papa's got a silly smile," Noah would laugh after a moment, and he'd bring one hand up to Jack's face to touch the silly smile he was talking about. In return to Noah's comment Jack would make a super silly face, and both Alex and Noah would laugh.

They never knew how long that would go on for, how long they would just stand there a be with one another. How many silly faces Jack would make, just because he knew Noah would laugh. How loud Noah would laugh because he knew his Daddy and Papa loved to hear him laughing.

Eventually though they would have to get back to work. Alex would tell Noah it was snack time or for him to go try the potty. By that age, four, Noah knew how to use the bathroom like everyone else, it was just a matter of getting there on time. Stop playing to go pee, which Jack and Alex learned quickly Noah didn't like to do. But they tried, Noah tried, and that's all that mattered to them.

While in the studio when ever Jack or Alex were busy Rian would take Noah to his drum set in the soundproof room and let him bang away on them. Noah thought it was the coolest thing ever, playing Uncle Rinan's drums. He liked to play Uncle Zacky's bass to sometimes but usually it was to big for him to hold on to and he would get upset with it and start crying.

Being around Noah made the record something the guys never thought they'd be able to go to. It pushed them up to a whole new level. The writing was better, the words made more since, the stories they told were more true to life, more catchy, and more rock then pop. The drums were harder, but more clear at the same time. The guitars were better, it was like Jack could actually play. The bass riffs were better, faster, and shook the earth to the core.

Noah made his fathers play the fifteen songs every time they went in the car, or they were just sitting at home. He'd bang his head around along with the beat, and air guitar here and there. He tried to sing along but he didn't know the words so he'd go back to just nodding his head, kicking his feet around, and air drumming.

Nothing made Jack nor Alex feel more proud of themselves than knowing that their album made their little boy dance and sing. They didn't care about anyone else opinion, all that matter was that Noah liked it. That's all they needed, sure the rest of the world loving it as well was good, amazing even, but nothing compared to the opinion of Noah.