Chapter Text
Perth carefully wrapped the blanket around the warm omega. Santa whimpered softly, his heavy-lidded eyes opening with visible effort.
"D-Domiia?"
"He is fine, my love. He is sleeping," Perth whispered gently. "You rest. I will take care of him, hmm?"
He brushed the damp strands of hair away from Santa’s forehead, deliberately releasing his calming pheromones. The tension in Santa’s body eased almost immediately, his breathing slowing as his eyes fluttered shut again.
Perth bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his lover’s forehead, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Perth Tanapon’s only fear had always been this. His lover getting sick. Getting hurt.
No matter how many times he warned him to slow down, to take care of himself, Santa would always smile and say he was fine. Fine while managing the house, attending practice, and keeping up with a relentless shooting schedule. Fine while slowly running himself into the ground.
It was not that Perth’s schedule was any lighter. It was heavy, exhausting, unforgiving. But Perth knew where to stop. He knew when to draw a line and rest.
That line had never existed in Santa’s life.
When Perth left for out-of-country shoots, Santa managed both the house and his work without complaint. And when Santa went out, Perth took care of things at home. But even then, their child was never alone with him. There was always a nanny to help.
And right now, though Perth tried to appear calm, he was anything but. His hands trembled slightly as he put things back in place, his movements careful, restrained.
Santa was sick. And on top of that, the omega had just gone through his heat. Post-heat fever made everything worse. The combination was brutal.
Perth had called Pond in a panic. Pond and Phuwin had arrived immediately, no questions asked.
The doctor prescribed medication and told him it would take at least three to five days for the omega to fully recover.
Now the house was quiet. Too quiet.
Domiia slept peacefully in his crib beside their bed, unaware of the tension hanging thick in the air.
Perth sank into the chair, exhaustion finally catching up to him. His eyes stung as he watched his lover sleep, pale and fragile beneath the blankets. To anyone else, it would have looked like just a fever.
To Perth, it felt like a failure.
A failure to be home more.
A failure to notice sooner.
A failure for taking too many scripts when he should have stayed.
The Alpha rubbed his temples, his fingers tightening around Santa’s slightly cooler hand, as if afraid to let go.
His own eyes drooped, exhaustion dragging him under. And in less than five minutes, Perth Tanapon slipped into sleep, still holding on.
.....✩.....
The room was dim, only a thin crack of light slipping through the window, barely touching the edges of the bed.
Both of them slept peacefully. Santa, lulled into rest after his dose. Perth, pulled under by sheer exhaustion.
Then shrill cries shattered the calm.
Perth’s eyes flew open. His body moved before his mind could catch up, feet carrying him across the room as he stood in front of the crib.
Domiia, their one-year-old, cried loudly, his little fists tightly clenched, soft tufts of hair falling into his eyes. His face was scrunched in distress, tears streaking down his flushed cheeks.
Perth scooped him up immediately, holding him close, rocking gently.
"Shh, shh, little one," he murmured, his voice low and careful.
The boy kept sobbing, eyes squeezed shut, his tiny fists clenching tightly around Perth’s shirt as if afraid to let go.
Perth frowned, panic creeping up his spine. He kept rocking him, adjusting his hold, whispering soft reassurances, but nothing seemed to work.
He checked his diaper. Clean.
He remembered feeding him from the bottle earlier. He couldn’t be hungry.
His chest tightened.
He pulled his phone from his pocket as the cries grew louder, sharper. His steps quickened as he stepped out of the room, instinctively shielding Santa from the noise.
He bounced Domiia gently in his arms, trying to sing, though his voice trembled with nerves. Every second waiting for the call to connect felt unbearable.
"Hello, Perth?" Phuwin’s sleepy voice answered, thick with confusion.
"H-hello, Phu. I-I am so sorry," Perth stammered. "Domiia is crying constantly and I don’t know what to do. Ta is sleeping and w-what i-if something happened t-to M-miiang, Phu-"
"Calm down, Perth," Phuwin interrupted gently, already sitting up as Pond stirred beside him.
"Did you check his diaper?"
"Y-yes."
"Did you feed him?"
"Yes, Phu. H-he was fine, I-I swear-"
"Perth," Phuwin said firmly, grounding him. "He is a child. Calm down."
Perth tried to steady his breathing. All Phuwin could hear were Domiia’s cries mixed with Perth’s shaky breaths.
"Try scenting him, Perth," Pond’s voice came through next.
"Yeah," Phuwin agreed. "He has been away from Santa all day, and your fear-clad scent might be overwhelming him. Calm yourself first."
Perth nodded even though they couldn’t see. He pressed soft kisses to his son’s head, his eyes burning.
"I-I… thank you, Phu."
"Go on. Calm yourself down. Domiia just might be scared."
He whispered a quick goodbye and ended the call.
Closing his eyes, Perth consciously reined in his scent, forcing it to soften, to steady.
Almost instantly, Domiia’s cries faltered.
His eyes opened, tears still clinging to his lashes, but the sobs stopped as if someone had flipped a switch.
Perth’s heart finally unclenched.
With gentle pats on his back, Perth carried him inside. He didn’t place him back in the crib.
Instead, he walked to their closet, Domiia’s tiny hiccups still echoing softly.
He picked up one of Santa’s smallest sweaters and wrapped the baby carefully inside it.
Domiia’s eyes widened, wonder replacing distress. His hands slapped against Perth’s chest as he nuzzled into the familiar scent, giggles bubbling out of him.
"Ah, Pa-" he babbled happily, chewing on the sweater.
"Nah, nah, little sun. Calm down," Perth chuckled softly, pulling the fabric from his mouth.
The baby groaned in protest, excitement still radiating from him, his small body wiggling in Perth’s arms.
Perth sighed, warmth flooding his chest.
Just five minutes ago, his son had been inconsolable. Now, he looked like he had been handed the greatest treasure in the world.
Perth wrapped him closer, Domiia’s tiny hands clenching tightly around his shirt, his face tucked between Santa’s scent and Perth’s warmth.
He checked Santa’s temperature again, changed the cloth on his forehead, then finally sat on the bed with Domiia nestled safely in his arms.
He laid the child down beside him, keeping him closer, careful. Santa was still sick. He couldn’t risk Domiia’s health.
Domiia looked up at him with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing, giggles spilling out instead of words.
Perth smiled softly.
"I know, little sun. Let papa heal first, hmm? Then you can cuddle with him."
He bopped his nose gently. Sticky fingers immediately wrapped around Perth’s, dragging them toward his mouth.
"You are very naughty, Miiang," Perth whispered fondly. "You gave daddy a heart attack."
The baby squealed, and Perth laughed quietly, love rushing through him so strong it ached.
He was their son. Born from their love.
Perth’s gaze drifted to Santa. Pale cheeks flushed with fever, a clean cloth resting on his forehead. His scent was faint, nearly gone.
All Perth wanted was to pull his lover into his arms and hold him until he understood that Perth wasn’t leaving. Not like this. Not again.
It took nearly thirty minutes to put Domiia to sleep. Only then did Perth carefully surround him with pillows before moving around the bed.
He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to Santa’s temple.
"Get well soon, my love," he whispered. "Domiia and I need you."
He brushed his hair back, caressed his cheek, then turned off the light.
Perth climbed into bed, pulled the blanket around them, hugging his son tightly to his chest.
Only then did sleep finally take him.
.....✩.....
Perth’s eyes fluttered open, the weight in his arms feeling heavier than he remembered, warmer than before.
He looked down, and his breath caught.
Santa slept peacefully in his arms, the omega’s smaller hands wrapped tightly around their baby’s body, pressing him securely against his chest as if afraid to let go even in sleep.
A soft chuckle slipped from Perth’s lips. How could he forget that his lover turned into a spoiled baby whenever he was sick?
Domiia lay content in his papa’s arms, while Santa lay just as content in his husband’s.
Pillows were still placed all around Domiia, even with Santa holding him close.
Santa whimpered softly when he felt warm breath brush against his mating mark, his eyes opening with visible effort.
"Good morning, my sunflower," Perth whispered, his voice husky with sleep.
"M-Morning, Phi…" Santa replied hoarsely, shifting slightly as he carefully let Domiia settle down before turning to face his husband.
"How are you feeling, my love?" Perth asked gently, tucking Santa’s hair behind his ear. His eyes were so full of love, so tender, that Santa found himself getting lost in them without trying.
"Feeling better, Phi," Santa whispered.
Perth hummed softly, placing gentle kisses on his temples, his forehead, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, and then finally his chin.
"How was Domiia yesterday?" Santa asked, his fingers absentmindedly playing with Perth’s larger hand.
"Ahmm, our son sure has some attachment issues with you, just like his daddy," Perth murmured, brushing a kiss to Santa’s nose.
"PHIIII!"
"What?" Perth said innocently, then dramatically placed the hand Santa was still holding against his chest. "That rascal cried like crazy and gave your poor husband a heart attack."
Santa sighed, but the sound turned into a whimper as another wave of headache hit him.
Perth noticed instantly. His teasing expression vanished, worry taking over.
"Wait," he said quickly. "Let me get you something to eat. You need to take your medicine, my love."
He tried to sit up, but Santa clung tighter, practically molding himself against Perth.
"TaTa," Perth coaxed softly, carding his fingers through Santa’s hair. "Let Phi bring your breakfast, hmm?"
Santa shook his head, tightening his grip even more.
Perth sighed quietly and settled back down. Just ten minutes, he promised himself. Just ten.
They lay there together, their breathing slowly syncing.
Then Santa whispered softly, "I am sorry, Phi…"
Perth stilled, his attention snapping back to the omega.
"What are you apologising for, my sunflower?"
"I am sorry I never listen to you when you tell me to rest," Santa murmured. "I never listen to you when you tell me to stop."
His gaze dropped, sadness pooling in his eyes.
Perth stayed silent for a moment before gently caressing his back, grounding him.
"My love," he said softly, tilting Santa’s face up. "What you are doing is enough, you don't have to push yourself for more my love. And I am proud of you. Very, very proud of you."
"I don’t want you to hurt yourself."
Santa nodded, and before he could say anything else, Perth pulled him back into his arms.
Santa laughed softly at the suddenness of it.
"Promise me you will rest when you feel tired?" Perth asked, holding out his pinky.
Santa laughed, his voice hoarse, his throat still sore, but his silly Alpha was everything to him.
He carefully hooked his pinky with Perth’s, and Perth pressed a gentle kiss to them.
"What was that, Phi?" Santa giggled.
"I was sealing our deal," Perth whispered seriously.
Santa looked at him fondly.
Perth propped himself up and carefully picked up Domiia, placing the little boy between them without a second thought.
Domiia curled up quickly against Santa’s chest, and they both smiled.
Just ten minutes, Perth thought. Then he would get up.
For now, he just wanted to be here with his family.
To bathe in their warmth.