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Josuke's eyes are still closed when he reaches out for you, but only feels warm sheets in your stead. You couldn't have gotten up that long ago. He strains to listen for running water to see if you're on one of your many nightly restroom runs. When he doesn't hear you in the bathroom, he opens his eyes to search for you. Moving his hair out of his eyes, he glances at the clock on the nightstand. It's just after 2am. He sighs before getting up and out of bed. Where could you be off to?
He drags his feet down the hall to your nursery. Some nights, you went in there to rearrange the furniture or the millions of stuffed animals aligning the walls. Being a nurse, he's aware that you're ‘nesting’. It's very common in late stage pregnancy. He doesn't say anything about it. He just lets you do your thing. Not finding you in the nursery, he proceeds to your second most popular destination: the kitchen.
He can hear your voice in the kitchen, probably talking to your bump. Josuke rounds the corner, rubbing sleep from his eye. He's just about to call out to you before the words die on his tongue.
You're standing under the warm light of your kitchen island. He watches you dip a chicken nugget into the ramekin of honey mustard sitting on top of your bump. A smile graces his lips. Ever since your bump had gotten big enough, you'd been using it as your own personal table. Watching you balance the honey mustard on it while you look through a baby catalogue makes him have to stifle his laughter.
You were beautiful. You often complained of your back hurting and your feet swelling in your third trimester. Pregnancy was no easy feat and you were ready for it to be over. Josuke was just as impatient to meet your baby, but at times like this, he couldn't help but feel like time was moving entirely too fast. He's heard of pregnancy glow, but this seems entirely different. Looking at you was giving him a warm, gooey feeling in his chest. He loved you so much. You were his forever. You didn't wear your ring because it no longer fit your swelling fingers, but he wore his. He wanted people to know that he belonged to someone. He made a home in someone's heart and he was there to stay until he took his dying breath. There was nothing you could ask of him that he wouldn't do for you. He loves you so much and now you're carrying his child. You really had Josuke in the palm of your hand. His heart is so full of love and pride. His wife carrying his baby. His little family. He made this, this was happiness.
“Hey!” you shriek, breaking him out his thoughts.
The lovestruck, foggy haze clears from his head just in time to see the ramekin slide off of your belly and onto the floor, spilling its contents onto the kitchen floor. You look down at your bump in bewilderment.
“Hey! I was still eating that! You're not even here yet and you're throwing a tantrum about my choice in dipping sauces?” You sigh in mock disappointment as you rub a hand up and down your baby bump. “You’re killing me, kid. Are you going to be like your dad and prefer barbeque sauce to ketchup? I love that man, but barbeque sauce instead of ketchup on fries?” You sigh again. “I guess it's time to go back to bed anyway. Your daddy probably misses us.”
‘Daddy’. Josuke was going to be a daddy. In just a few weeks, he was going to be the father of a squishy newborn. He hopes the baby looks like you. The excitement of seeing your genes combine to make a little human who will have their own personality and traits has Josuke counting down the days. Will they be loud and bubbly like him? Sweet and self assured like you? Maybe they'll be a mixture or completely unlike either of you. Josuke doesn't even realize how wide his smile is as he watches you have your one sided conversation with your unborn baby. You place your hands in the small of your back and roll your shoulders with a huff.
“You're getting pretty heavy, kid. How am I supposed to bend down to pick this up and still manage to get back up without your dad here, hm?”
You roll your neck, trying to crack it as you prepare to squat down for the discarded honey mustard. Before you can bend down Josuke steps into the kitchen.
“Hey,” his voice feigns sleepiness to mask the fact that he'd been watching you. He rubs his eye to really sell it. “What are you doing up?”
“I got up to pee, but I was hungry so I warmed up some leftover chicken nuggets.”
“It's 2 in the morning, baby,” he says with a giggle as he rounds the kitchen island toward you.
“I know, sorry. Did I wake you?”
Josuke leans down to pick up the ramekin and clean up the spilled dipping sauce.
“No. I just noticed you weren't in bed and thought I'd see where you waddled off to.”
“First this kid wakes me up in the middle of the night by pressing his big, fat head on my bladder. Then he tells me that he doesn't like my choice of dipping sauce! Unbelievable!”
“Oh? How do you know he doesn't like your dipping sauce?” Josuke asks with a smile.
“He told me.”
“He told you?
“Yeah. He told me.”
Josuke laughs as he brings you into his arms. He holds you at an angle so your belly isn't in the way. When you put your head on his shoulder, he kisses the top of your head. With one hand supporting your back, he rubs the other down your bump.
“Only a few more weeks, Josuke.”
Josuke hums as he rubs his hand up and down your bump. He places one more kiss on the top of your head.
“Only a few more weeks,” he parrots as he smushes his cheek to your temple. “I can't wait.”
“Me either. This kid's been killing my back.” You pause, putting a hand on your back for emphasis. You put your free hand on Josuke's, sitting on top of your bump. “Come on. Let's go to bed.”
“Yeah. I'll rub your back if you want.”
“Can you have Crazy Diamond rub my feet?”
“Of course, baby. Anything for you.”