Work Text:
-
Uenoyama sighs, staring at the ceiling looming over his head. This is one of the precious, quiet moments in their apartment, which less than a week ago became unusual. The reason: his one-week old son, Mizuki, who apparently got his vocal abilities from Mafuyu.
Uenoyama had just put him down to sleep, his tiny head of dark blue hair so akin to his own he felt like he was looking down at his own baby pictures. He’s still overwhelmed by the sheer fact that now he has a son with Mafuyu. The realization more often than not cuts his air short and makes him spiral into a daze of bafflement, excitement, fear and pride. Because he had a kid with the love of his life but- oh my god, he now has a kid, a mouth to feed, diapers to change, incessant bawling in the middle of the night, pretty much a responsibility he would carry forever.
“Ugh,” he groans, digging his wrists into his eyeballs, thinking of the money Mafuyu and him had already put aside for college and the expenses that would surely come. They’re not short on money, being members of one of the best bands in Japan has it perks, but still... Ritsuka is a worrier by nature.
“Did you manage to put him down?”
Ritsuka drops his hands from his eyes, being met by the sight of Mafuyu in a robe, moving towards the kitchen where he puts the kettle to boil. Mafuyu’s cheeks are slimier than they were during the pregnancy – though his body hadn’t changed much despite the cooper-haired male insisting on the contrary -, his hair dangles soft and curly around his head, a bit longer than its usual length. He looks tired (Uenoyama knows he does too) but his eyes hold a light that had settled there the moment the both of them heard Mizuki’s shrill cry as soon as he was born.
“Hm,” Ritsuka drops his neck all the way back the sofa’s headrest, being able to watch Mafuyu move to get mugs from the upper cabinets, “yeah.”
Mafuyu hums a tune under his breath and Uenoyama is thrown back to two days ago, watching Mafuyu cradle Mizuki in his arms and sing him to sleep. He wishes he’d gotten that recorded somehow, and makes a mental note to do that next time he catches them like that.
“Good,” Mafuyu says, chancing a look at the clock, “do you think he’ll sleep through the entire night today?”
“Hardly,” Ritsuka scoffs.
Mafuyu pours the hot water on both mugs and moves to offer one to Uenoyama.
“God, I love you,” Ritsuka groans, enveloping the warm mug with his hands.
Mafuyu ruffles his hair with a chuckle and sits down beside him. Ritsuka sits upright and they stare at the dark television screen as they both sip from their mugs. Mafuyu yawns and bends one leg on the sofa.
“How are the stitches?” Ritsuka asks, catching the movement.
“Good,” Mafuyu grins, “I barely feel them anymore.”
“They looked really painful,” Ritsuka shudders at the memory.
Mafuyu laughs, “you baby. It’s a good thing I was the one to get them.”
“You’re probably right.”
Uenoyama takes another sip. He’s almost done with his mug.
“I kind of miss it,” Mafuyu blurts out.
“Hn?”
“The pregnancy.”
Ritsuka watches him lovingly and adds “I miss sleeping through the night.”
“I could feel him moving inside me, kicking me around,” Mafuyu continues, ignoring him, setting his empty mug on the coffee table before them and lying back with his head on Ritsuka’s shoulder, “it was a nice feeling. I could tell when he was agitated, when he was asleep...”
Ritsuka kisses the top of Mafuyu’s head, moving his free hand around his waist. He files through the memories of a pregnant Mafuyu, the way his skin seemed to glow and the protective feeling that rose inside Ritsuka’s chest ever since the first time he laid eyes on Mafuyu’s baby bump. He’s invaded by he has a son with Mafuyu again.
“I can’t believe he’s finally here,” Ritsuka sighs lovingly, “I didn’t know babies could be so small. And so noisy too.”
Mafuyu laughs lowly at this.
“I thought I was used to noise.”
Mafuyu sets a hand on his chest, swiping it back and forth like he wants to assuage his heartbeat.
“I read that it takes a few months before he calms down, you know,” Ritsuka continues, “and that he might get fevers when he starts teething and-”
“Ritsu-kun,” Mafuyu interrupts him softly, the way he does when Ritsuka goes on a rampant, “he’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”
“I know, I just-” he gulps, “love him. I love the both of you. So much.”
Mafuyu smiles tenderly at this and lets Ritsuka rub his knuckles on the side of his face.
“We love you too,” Mafuyu tells him, carding his fingers through Ritsuka’s dark hair when he hides his face on Mafuyu’s neck. “Don’t cry,” Mafuyu hushes with a chuckle.
“I’m not crying,” Ritsuka’s voice comes out muffled and hoarse and he tries to will the tears not to slide down his cheeks. He’s such a baby. Look at him, being comforted by Mafuyu because he’s crying after realizing for the millionth time that he has a son with Mafuyu and that alone is enough to have him bawling like Mizuki.
Speaking of bawling...
“Ah, there he is,” Mafuyu leans back. Ritsuka feels like whining at the distance but Mafuyu softly cups his jaw and kisses his forehead, “it’s my turn now. Try to relax, papa.”
-