Chapter Text
It was around two in the morning.
Adachi was dozing off on the couch when a tiny hand delivered an almighty slap across his face.
He jolted, eyes opening wide in momentary panic, only to be greeted by eyes as wide as his own. He was holding Kota-chan, who was wearing Pikachu pajamas, securely in his arms. The baby had evidently taken the opportunity to nibble on the sleeve of Adachi’s T-shirt. He immediately abandoned the task, however, in favor of smiling an innocent and mostly toothless grin, as if he hadn’t almost given his father a heart attack.
“Bababa,” Kota-chan said, wriggling and squirming in his hold. At one year old, he was proving to be quite the chatterbox, babbling and giggling at every chance he got. Adachi knew he should be used to it by now after almost a few months, but the way Kota-chan tried his best to talk always made him ridiculously happy. It was just so cute.
“Not sleepy yet?” Adachi mumbled, eyes slipping shut again. He hugged his son close and smiled at the squeal the other let out. “You know your daddy and I have work tomorrow.”
He opened one eye and glanced at the clock mounted on the wall. “In less than five hours,” he amended, wincing.
“Da?”
“Daddy’s sleeping right now. He’s had a busy week,” Adachi explained patiently. “How about you, Kota-chan? Did you have a busy week, too?”
Kota-chan looked at him and smiled.
Adachi chuckled. “I guess that’s a ‘no,’ then. Lucky.”
“Da!”
“Kota, you really need to sleep now. Or else you’ll get all grumpy again,” Adachi said with a sigh. “Let’s see…you’ve had your bottle and your diaper’s been changed…I guess that leaves…a bedtime story?”
A little arm shot out and this time, Adachi was awake enough to dodge it. Kota-chan giggled and Adachi grinned. He ran his fingers through the small tuft of hair on his son’s head. “Okay, here goes,” he began.
“Once upon a time, there was a prince. He was the most beautiful man in the land. When he smiled, his teeth shone like pearls, and his hair was like…um. Like the ocean. Except it was black…? Oh! His hair was like the ocean at night. Like, shiny under the moonlight.”
Adachi rubbed his eye with a free hand. He seriously needed to get some sleep, but little Kota-chan was blinking up at him and he couldn’t possibly disappoint his audience.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, um, so the prince was beautiful. Princes and princesses alike, from faraway lands, would travel all the way to his palace to see him. Everyone wanted to see his blinding smile and the cute way his eyes crinkled.
“But while the prince may have been breathtaking, he was also kind and diligent. He worked hard on princely duties, like…um…being a prince. Which was really hard.”
Yes. Adachi was the best storyteller ever.
“And even though he worked so hard, and did his best to make the people in his kingdom happy, they only cared about his beauty. He…saved villagers from an evil dragon, and, um…solved world hunger, but no one ever remembered. All they ever praised him for was his beauty.”
Adachi smiled as Kota-chan rested his head on his shoulder and let out a tiny sigh. So cute. He stroked his son’s back and continued telling his tale.
“Then for some reason, the prince fell in love with…some villager from the ocea–no, the mountains. Right. The village boy was very confused, but he welcomed the prince’s attention. He was amazed by his beauty, yes…but he saw that the prince was very kind, cared a lot about his work, and…was just the best person, ever, really. And then they lived happily ever after.”
Adachi looked down and saw that his son had fallen asleep, which was truly a testament to how bad he was at storytelling, but at least it meant Kota-chan wouldn’t be grumpy tomorrow.
He carried his son to the nursery, gingerly setting him down on the crib. After tucking him in, he watched as he slept peacefully, chest rising and falling with every breath, eyes closed and mouth peaceful.
Adachi kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, my Kota-chan,” he whispered. “I love you.”
And with that, Adachi went back to his bedroom. He shuffled under the blanket as carefully as he could, so that he wouldn’t wake his husband.
Kurosawa stirred a little, enough to mumble a groggy Kiyohsi, and Adachi carded his fingers through his hair. “Good night, my prince,” Adachi had the courage to whisper, protected by the darkness and Kurosawa’s half-asleep state.
“Mm,” Kurosawa mumbled. He shifted under the covers and placed a heavy arm over his husband’s body.
Adachi closed his eyes and allowed himself to be wrapped in Kurosawa’s embrace.