Outtake: The Cycles #JohnandSiena #FreeRead

Hey, hey, all!

So, it's Friday which means outtake day again. Yay.

We're back to the John + Siena outtakes that I have done - which is actually just this one today, and one more. Whether or not I get more outtakes done for them remains to be seen. All depends on what pops into my head to write, I guess.

So, do enjoy.

***

The Cycles
A John + Siena Outtake
John/Siena POV

John POV

“That’s a whole sleeve of cookies,” Andino muttered.
“Shut up,” John grumbled around the half-eaten Oreo. “Don’t need or want your opinion.”
“That’s enough sugar to kill a horse, man.”
“Said shut up. What part of shut up don’t you understand?”
“Yeah, shut up, Zio Andino.”
John patted his three-year-old son on the top of his head, and passed the boy a cookie for his good work. Some might call it rewarding bad behavior—he didn’t much give a shit what people thought about how he raised his kid.
Andino mock glared as he dropped onto the couch in John’s living room, and used his two fingers to point between his eyes, and Lucky. “Got my eyes on you, kiddo.”
Lucky glowered right back, and mocked Andino with the finger motions.
All three years of him.
Already thought he was ten feet tall, and bulletproof.
John loved it.
Siena worried.
What could you do?
“Can’ts watch me,” Lucky told Andino, “when I is already watching you, Zio.”
John almost choked on a fucking cookie he tried to keep from laughing so goddamn hard. His son was damn serious, and he didn’t want to downplay the kid’s efforts by laughing at him. That did fuck all for somebody’s self-esteem.
Andino gave Lucky an appreciative nod. “You’re gonna do great things, kid.”
Lucky smiled. “I know—Da tells me so.”
John gave his son another cookie for that one.
“You don’t even like mint,” Andino nodded, gesturing at the chocolate mint flavored cookies in John’s lap.
It really was a whole sleeve of the cookies.
The last sleeve.
They were his wife’s. He probably should have made a run to the store, but fuck … he just needed sugar, and he needed it in his mouth right now. He didn’t care if it was fucking cookies that he didn’t like.
“Med changes,” John said in explanation to his cousin with a shrug. “Leonard wanted to test a drop in dose considering how calm shit’s been for two years. It’s fucking driving me crazy—not literally,” he was quick to add when Andino gave him a look. “Just with food, and energy. I want to eat and be on the move and fuc—”
John’s gaze quickly dropped to his son who was staring up at him with big eyes before he said, “And the other four letter thing with my wife that we don’t say around this one because he repeats everything.”
Andino laughed. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Anyway—that’s why. The new meds.”
Andino lifted a brow. “And you were good with that—the change, I mean?”
“I trust my doctor.”
That trust didn’t come easily by any means, but Leonard was always careful with John, his disorder, and how he went about treating it. He let John have a voice, and that made a hell of a lot of difference at the end of the day.
Lucky climbed up on the couch and sat beside his father, fat palm already overturned and waiting for another cookie.
“You had two already,” John said.
Lucky gave a pointed look at the whole pile of cookies in his lap. He didn’t say anything. Just stared at the fucking things.
Andino cleared his throat, and looked away to hide his smile.
Then, very quietly, Lucky said, “Ma likes those cookies, Da. They Ma’s.”
Yes, they were.
Three, and he already understood blackmail.
John handed his kid another cookie.
Lucky jumped down from the couch, and headed out of the living room without as much as a look over his shoulder. Having got what he wanted, he was now moving onto bigger and better things.
Typical Lucky.
John sighed.
“Raising him right, man.” Andino smirked at his cousin. “He really is going to do great things.”
“I know. That’s what terrifies me.”
And excited him.
Yeah, that, too.

***

Siena POV

Siena opened the pantry to find … nothing.
Well, not nothing.
But a hell of a lot of nothing!
“John!”
“What?”
“Where is my Moon Pie?”
She didn’t get a response.
Siena’s gaze narrowed on the empty shelf where her pack of chocolate mint flavored Oreo cookies should be. “And my cookies, too?”
Silence still answered her back.
She bet that if she looked in the fridge, the rest of the cheesecake she had left from the night before would also be gone. Along with whatever ice cream was in the freezer, and whatever else John had found to satisfy his sweet tooth in the meantime.
It always happened.
Med changes were hard. Sometimes, it was mood swings that seemed unstoppable, and other times he just wanted to sleep for days. And then there were times like this when he was just fucking hungry. Something he couldn’t satisfy at all, and he would eat anything as long as it was sweet.
It was most difficult when it was a mixture of several things—hunger, tiredness, or the moods. After being married this long, she was used to it.
Never failed.
“John!”
Her husband’s sheepish face popped in the kitchen entryway just as Siena came out of the panty. “Sorry.”
“I was saving that Moon Pie,” Siena said sadly.
“Want me to go get you some? The store down the block has them in singles.”
She shrugged. “Well, maybe I’ll just make Whoopie Pies now, anyway.”
John’s eyes lit up. “I’m game for that.”
Of course, he was.
It made her smile.
“You’re lucky you spend most of the day on your feet, and half of your morning on a fucking treadmill,” she half-heartedly grumbled. “Diabetes is still a real thing, though, John.”
“I am as healthy as I am ever going to be.”
“So you say.”
She was just pulling things out of the cupboards when John came up behind her. It was only his lips ghosting over the back of her neck that made her sigh a little, and melt into his hands grabbing her around the waist.
“To be fair, Lucky stole three of the cookies,” John murmured against her skin.
“That you stole from me?”
“Plausible deniability.”
“Or you use our son because I can’t get mad at him.”
“And that,” John agreed.
“I don’t get mad at you, either.”
She felt his lips curve into a gentle smile at the base of her neck. “No, you don’t.”
“Did you sedate it?” she asked. “The sweet tooth?”
John grumbled a bit under his breath. “Not particularly.”
“Maybe the Whoopie Pies will help.”
“Doubtful, but I am not complaining.”
Siena laughed, and he pressed another kiss to the back of her neck. Med changes sometimes also meant unpredictability—they really didn’t know how it was going to hit John, or what effect it might have on him from day to day until he regulated and settled in with the new dose of whatever.
This time, instead of sleep, it was eating and energy.
He wanted all the food, all the time.
And he didn’t stop moving.
Ever.
Except to sleep—he was sleeping a moderate amount every night, but not nearly enough. It wasn’t at a worrying point just yet, but Siena had to keep her eye on it. John had gotten better at being honest, too. He knew—like they had known—that hiding things or making something appear better than it actually was only ended badly in almost every situation for John.
This was what came with being them, though.
She didn’t want John any other way.
After all, he didn’t come any other way.
“So, tell me what to do for these Whoopie Pies, and I will—”
“You can get out of my kitchen until I’m done.”
It was just easier that way.
John leaned around Siena’s side, and pressed a fast, but fleeting kiss to her lips. “Done.”
He was gone from the room before she could even pull out her mixer. All it took was the promise of more sugar. 

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