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It’s still a little surreal that he’s waking up with a newborn. Izumi has been home for three weeks, and Hitoshi sometimes thinks he’s dreaming until her loud cries jar him from sleep. How does such a tiny body make loud noises like that? A glance at the bedside clock reads 2:14 a.m. and he blinks and stretches his eyes wider to liven himself up. Katsuki grunts next to him and he gently squeezes his forearm before climbing out of bed.
The bassinet is in their room, set up on his side since he likes to be the one getting out of bed for her. Smothering a yawn into his hand, he peers down at her squirming around, fusing and red faced while trying to eat her hand.
“How did you get out of the swaddle?” He whispers, scooping her up. “Your mom did it last.” Hitoshi is shit at wrapping it up, she wiggles out of it by the time he lays her back down. He cradles her to his chest to walk the few steps to the changing table, and she roots against him, trying to find his nipple. “Sorry, kid, mine don’t work.”
Tossing the swaddler toward the bed, he lays her down to unzip the sleeper. Everyone says Izumi looks like him, but they haven’t seen her glare when he has to get her naked to change her diaper. It’s all Katsuki, the furrowed brows and angry pout scolding him for making her cold. Once he’s finished, Hitoshi can’t help but sniff her head on the way to swap her over. She smells like nothing and uniquely them at the same time. There’s the milky sweet scent of newborn, but both of their scents permeate her skin.
Katsuki’s already sitting up, pillows propped behind his back and his lap to rest his arm while she’s eating. He vehemently objected to wearing the nursing bras, until his milk came in and drenched the sheets. After having to wash them and the mattress, he broke down and bought some. The detachable cup is already pulled down when he hands her over.
Crawling back under the blanket feels like a reward, and he tucks it around himself. He doesn’t go back to sleep while Katsuki feels her, but snuggling into the bed for that 20 minutes is a rest he needs to be a halfway functional human being come morning. Exhaustion is permanently soaked into his bones, but he’s content watching Katsuki reposition to guide Izumi to his breast. One time, Hitoshi had reminded him about the lactation nurse saying to squish it like a hamburger to help the latch when they’d been struggling, and the feral glare Katsuki shot him had nearly turned him to dust.
Now he stays silent when they have a little difficulty, will knead the small to his back and scent the space with calming pheromones to help Katsuki relax. In the beginning, the two of them worked each other up when she couldn’t latch quite right, and it only got worse when Katsuki couldn’t breath from being overwhelmed. It'd been hard, seeing Katsuki struggle and battle against the imbalanced hormones and instincts without being able to help a lot. Hitoshi had felt helpless with an anxious need to fix the problem, his own alpha prowling just beneath the surface with the scent of both Katsuki and the baby’s distress.
Needless to say, that first week had been rough and stressful.
This time is effortless, no hot tears threatening to spill over and tense jaw, and Katsuki drops his head to the wall with a dull thud. He hasn’t showered in three or four days – time means nothing these days – and his blonde hair is greasy. The shadows under his eyes rival Hitoshi’s own, and there’s a damp spot on the other side of the bra where his other breast let down once Izumi started feeding on the other. Warmth swells in his chest, a mixture of happiness and ease.
Hitoshi worries if he’ll be a great father, if he’ll crash and burn, but it’s nearly insignificant in this moment when he’s basking in the quiet and comforting scent of his little family.
“You’re staring, weirdo,” Katsuki rasps, voice thick with sleep.
“Can’t help it, you’re too pretty.”
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”
“Who said I was talking about you?” Hitoshi reaches out to brush his knuckle over the purple peach fuzz on Izumi’s head. “I could have meant the baby.”
“That would make more sense, considering I’m a fucking train wreck.”
“You’re cute too, babe. Don’t worry.”
Katsuki scoffs, but his scent gives away how pleased it makes him.
Silence settles again while Izumi finishes. Soft coos start filtering through her swallowing, and he notices her hand transition from holding tightly onto Katsuki to open palm. He lays her down, and Hitoshi’s once again confused by how efficient Katsuki is as swaddling. Izumi blinks sleepily at him, and he rests his hand on her little chest and trails his thumb over her cheek.
“Do you want me to put her back?” Katsuki asks, glancing down at him.
“Nah, I got it. You go back to sleep.” His muscles protest against him sitting up, and he lifts her back up.
Back in the bassinet, he picks his phone up to snap a quick photo of her mid yawn and sends it to the group chat. Their pack mates have only met her once, they’ve been cautious with how often to reduce exposure to germs, and they enjoy the updates in the meantime. In a separate chat, he uploads it for Shouta and Hizashi to see when they wake up. Unsurprisingly, the three dots show up as someone types out a response.
Adorable. But get some sleep.
He smiles at the seemingly bored reply, knowing that Shouta has already saved the picture to a designated album. Returning to the bed, he quickly scents an already snoring Katsuki and curls beneath the blanket to drift off again for a few more hours.