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Kenma had never once considered himself to be a family kinda guy. He loved his parents and his friends, sure, and he loved you. But beyond that, he’d never felt any kind of overly compassionate feelings towards the idea of having a family. It wasn’t something he saw in his future, nor was it something he looked forward to. However, as with anyone, his life had a habit of taking unexpected turns.
He’d always known you wanted kids. It was one of the first things you told him when the pair of you first got together. However Kenma being Kenma hadn’t thought much of it then - to be honest, he hadn’t thought much of your relationship in general, expecting it to be a quick affair before you got bored of him and left.
Surprisingly, you hadn’t, however, and before Kenma really had time to think, he’d settled into a nice homely life in a penthouse in Tokyo with his video games and you as his wife. And this time when you brought up the idea of kids again, Kenma, bound by a vow he’d made to himself to always provide you with what you wanted, had obliged.
At first, he’d genuinely hated being a father. The crying, the late nights, the not having time for anything other than the screaming, wrinkled brat - he’d hated it. Especially when the loud wailing that rang through the hallways of your expensive penthouse tugged you from his arms and left him cursing the day he ever agreed to create another spawn with you.
There were some mornings, however, that weren’t so bad. Mornings where he was allowed to wake up naturally, after having a full night’s rest. Mornings when his now ten-month-old son had been able to sleep through the whole night and then some, and he was able to roll over across his Alaskan King-sized bed and bury his face into your collarbone without any kind of interruptions.
Today was one of those mornings. Kenma’s eyes blinked open to the sounds of early morning Meguro. Light was just beginning to pierce through the bedroom windows, casting a warm glow across his sleepy face. It was summer and Kenma could already feel the heat of the day beginning to rise, even tucked away as he was in the air-conditioned bedroom.
He rolled over to look at you properly. You were asleep on your stomach, arms gripping your pillow loosely and face buried in the covers. You were wearing one of his Kodzuken merch hoodies and the thick, black material seemed to swallow up your body until only your face could be seen.
Kenma couldn’t help it - he smiled. He had never been the kind of person to get sentimental but seeing you here, still by his side even after almost seven years, had his heart racing. Scooching his way across the bed, he slipped an arm across your waist and pulled you into his chest.
You sighed contentedly as your body heat mixed with his and snuggled closer, seeking his presence even in your sleep. Kenma felt his heart do a flip and he raised one hand slowly to gently stroke over your head. “Morning, pretty girl.”
You stirred at the sound of his voice, blinking sleepily in the dull light of the morning. Once your eyes had gradually come into focus, you offered Kenma a sleepy smile. “G’morning.”
“How’d you sleep?”
You rolled onto your back and stretched, face scrunching in satisfaction. “Pretty good. You?”
“Better than usual,” Kenma mumbled. He frowned. “The gremlin slept through the night.”
You swatted lightly at his chest. “Don’t call your son a gremlin.” He could see in your eyes, however, that you agreed with him.
“He is a gremlin,” Kenma mumbled, smothering his words in his pillow. “I can’t remember the last time I got a full night’s sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at his complaints. Worming your way out of his arms, you sat up and blinked sleepily around at your bedroom. “I should probably go check on him, though.”
“Noooo,” Kenma whined. You turned back to see him making grabby hands in your direction. “He gets you all the time. I wanna spend time with you now.”
You stared at his upset pout for a few seconds before laughing. Reaching out, you ruffled up his long hair. “Damn, anyone would think you were the baby, Ken.”
“Shut up,” Kenma mumbled sullenly, still pouting. “I just miss you, is all.”
“I miss you too.” You leaned down to press a sweet kiss to his cheek before getting to your feet properly. “But, unfortunately, if I don’t deal with the gremlin soon, he’s probably gonna start crying. Do you want to deal with a crying baby right now?”
Kenma made a face. Eventually, he mumbled out, “No.” You smiled triumphantly.
“That’s what I thought. Now come on, we can spend time together while I check on him.”
Kenma’s grumbling was audible as he swung his own long legs out of bed and heaved himself to his feet to follow after you. You walked in front of him, a spring in your step despite the early hour. Kenma shuffled behind, hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie that matched yours, eyes fixed on your back as you rounded the corner and stepped through the door of your baby’s room.
“See, he’s hogging all your attention.”
The room was silent, save only for the occasional gurgle or sigh coming from the crib. Kenma blinked in surprise when he realised his son was awake and staring with wide eyes up at him. The baby’s legs kicked a little when he saw his parents and then a bright, lopsided smile spread across his small face. One of his chubby arms flailed and then he let out a small squeak, obviously wanting to be picked up.
You rushed to him immediately, cooing in a decidedly motherly way as you reached down into the crib to lift him into your arms. Kenma stood watching from the door, trying desperately not to allow the fondness he was feeling in his chest to show in his expression. Instead, he scowled.
You turned to frown at your husband. “Oh shush, you’re just being salty.” Then you turned back to your son, a welcoming smile immediately lighting up your expression. “Good morning, Souta.”
Souta blinked at you, his catlike eyes wide and curious. Then he reached out to grab the collar of your hoodie and shrieked something unintelligible. You turned him so he was facing Kenma and gently held his chubby arm between two of your fingers so you could wave his hand. Then you grinned up at your husband. “Look, he’s waving at you, Ken.”
Kenma flipped Souta off, still salty. You gave an exaggerated gasp and made to cover your baby’s eyes while glaring at him.
“Kozume! That’s rude!’
Kenma shrugged and pushed himself up from where he had been leaning against the doorframe. “He’s rude,” he mumbled in response as he made his way over to you. There was no malice in his eyes as he stared down at Souta however, and as Souta stared back up at him, you could see the hostility Kenma was putting up beginning to melt away. Eventually, he abandoned the act altogether and leaned down to drop a begrudged kiss on the top of Souta’s head.
Souta, who seemed overjoyed by his father’s affection, reached out to yank at one of the ties on Kenma’s hoodie and you took it as an opportunity to bundle the baby into his father’s arms. Kenma pouted yet again as he was forced to hold Souta, giving you a pleading look.
“See, he’s fine. Now can we go cuddle?”
“No.” You were already making your way towards the kitchen. “I’m hungry. Plus, it’s too late to go back to bed. The sun’s already up.”
Kenma, who would very happily have stayed in bed until well past noon, sighed audibly. Then he looked down at Souta. The baby stared back up at him, smiling when he met his father’s eyes.
“This is all your fault,” Kenma told him sullenly. “You’re stealing all mommy’s love. I was here first.”
Souta, oblivious to what his father was saying, kept smiling.
“You know what I think?” Kenma continued as he began to walk out of the room, following the path you’d made to the kitchen. He was still staring down at his child. “I think you should go visit Uncle Kuroo today. Then mommy and I can have the whole day to ourselves.”
Souta didn’t seem to like this idea. His smile began to turn downwards and before Kenma even had a second to think, fat salty tears were beginning to brim in his wide eyes.
You stuck your head out of the kitchen at the sound of Souta’s first loud wail, and almost laughed at the sight of Kenma’s distraught face. Pointing in your husband’s direction, you gave him a stern look. “Stop being mean to your kid, Kenma. He knows what you’re saying.”
“I wasn’t being mean!” Kenma retorted, trying his best to comfort the wailing baby in his arms. “How was I supposed to know he doesn’t like Kuroo?”
You shook your head, fighting a smile. “Just be nice to him. Sheesh.”
Kenma bounced Souta lightly up and down, looking more and more distressed the longer the baby cried. Eventually, he held the child out towards you. “Here, you take him.”
“Nope.” You disappeared back inside the kitchen. “You need to learn how to handle him. He’s your son too, silly.”
Kenma stared after you in dismay. Then he looked back down at Souta. The baby seemed to be watching Kenma as he cried, almost as if he was testing his father. Kenma gave him a dirty look before tucking him back into his chest and heading towards the living room.
‘It’s okay,’ he thought as he moved, continually stroking the wispy hairs on Souta’s head. ‘It’s just like a game. I just need to gain friendship points and then he’ll like me again.’
Sitting down cross-legged on the large couch in the living room, Kenma settled Souta in his lap. For a moment, he stared down at his son, wondering what on earth he should do to get him to stop crying. Kenma had never particularly liked children - he’d always preferred cats. But as he stared down at his son now, he realised it was a skill he needed to learn, especially now that you were practically leaving him out to dry.
What would Y/N do?
He tried to remember your order of business when it came to tending to your son.
Step One - check if he needs his nappy changed.
Kenma checked. All was well.
Step Two - check if he has a fever or seems sick at all.
Kenma pressed a hand to Souta’s forehead. All was well.
Step three - check if he’s hungry.
Kenma stared down at Souta. Then he leaned backward slightly to yell in the direction of the kitchen. “Hey, Y/N-!”
You seemed to already know what he was going to ask as a bottle came flying through the air towards him. By some miracle of life (most likely his volleyball instincts) Kenma snatched it right before it smacked him right in the side of the head. Then he held it out in front of Souta.
“You want this?’
The baby didn’t reply.
Kenma held the bottle towards him again, being careful to hold the baby up with his other hand. Souta watched as his breakfast moved closer and closer before eventually opening his mouth.
Kenma smiled triumphantly as Souta began to drink from the bottle, his wailing cutting off suddenly as he sucked happily at the formula inside. Lifting the baby into his arms once again, he held him close against his chest and leaned back against the back of the couch. Souta rested his head against his father’s shoulder, slurping happily at his bottle, any trace of his tears now gone.
Kenma looked up when he heard your soft footsteps against the cold wood floor. You draped yourself over the couch, a smug grin on your face as you observed your husband and now visibly content son.
"See, I told you you two could get along."
Kenma glowered at you for a second before looking down at Souta too. His expression softened. "He’s whatever."
You gave him a light slap upside the head before rounding the couch. After scooping Souta from his arms, you took the spot where the baby had been for yourself and settled down with your back against Kenma’s chest. Your husband immediately slung his arms around your waist and hooked his chin on your shoulder, so he could watch quietly as you rocked Souta back and forth.
A peaceful silence fell for a moment as you fed Souta, watching as his eyes began to droop. Eventually, he stopped sucking at his bottle and you slowly pulled it away, making sure to hold Souta carefully while you leaned over to put the bottle on the table. Kenma reached around you and used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe at a dribble of formula that had made its way down Souta’s chin. Then he reached up to gently smooth one of Souta’s dark curls down.
You watched slyly, a small smile tugging at your lips as Kenma’s subtle show of affection. Leaning back, you allowed your head to rest back on your husband’s shoulder, cuddling your baby closer at the same time. With a glance upwards, you met Kenma’s gaze out of the corner of your eye.
“You know, you’re better with him than you think.”
Kenma blushed and looked away from you. “Shut up. I don’t like kids.”
“I know you don’t.” You leaned up to press a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw. “But you can tolerate this one… right?’
Kenma was silent for a moment, torn between preserving his pride and speaking the truth. Eventually, the latter won him over and he mumbled, “I guess.”
You smiled broadly and gave him another kiss. “There you go.” Then you turned back to your son, who was now asleep with his head tucked neatly against your chest.
Kenma followed his son’s example and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, allowing his eyes to fall closed. His grip on your waist remained firm, giving you nowhere to go as he held you in a moment of silent appreciation.
You were the first to break the silence. “Thank you.”
Kenma looked up. “What for?”
You shifted Souta in your arm just slightly before looking back up at your husband, “For this. For everything. I know this probably wasn’t the life you wanted but-”
“Hey,” Kenma mumbled, blushing hard now. “Who said this wasn’t the life I wanted?’
“Well, you just said yourself that you don’t like children.”
Kenma sighed and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Well,” he started slowly, trying to find a way to word his thoughts that wouldn’t be embarrassing as all hell. “I may not like kids, but I like you. And if having kids is what makes you happy, then I’m happy with that. Plus…” he glanced down at Souta again. “When the gremlin isn’t hogging your attention, he isn’t so bad.”
You gave him a half-smile. “Aw, Ken. That was almost romantic.”
“Shut up,” Kenma mumbled, hiding his burning cheeks in your shoulder. Before you could speak again, he bundled you close to him and closed his eyes. “Now let me cuddle you before it wakes up.”
You smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Okay.” For the first time that morning, you had nothing to say in protest to the idea of cuddling.