Chapter Text
The soft splash of water echoed in the small bathroom, steam curling in the air as Nani sat on the closed toilet lid, watching Nakit play in the bathtub. The child giggled, pressing a foam star against the water’s surface, his tiny fingers fascinated by the way it floated. Sky was kneeling beside the tub, carefully rinsing soap from Nakit’s hair, his touch gentle and practiced.
Nani should have been the one doing it. But he wasn’t sure how.
It had been years since he’d allowed himself to really be in this space, to sit in the warmth of their home and witness the life he’d kept at arm’s length. But tonight, after everything, after the way Nakit had smiled at him, clung to his thumb so trustingly—he wanted to try.
“Do you want to help?” Sky’s voice was soft, careful, as if he knew how fragile Nani’s resolve was.
Nani hesitated, then reached for the small plastic cup beside Sky. He scooped up warm water and, with a shaky hand, poured it gently over Nakit’s hair. The child blinked up at him, water running down his round cheeks, and giggled.
“You’re not doing it like Daddy,” Nakit pointed out, his voice full of playful honesty.
Nani startled, but Sky chuckled. “Papa’s learning,” Sky said simply, and to Nani’s surprise, Nakit nodded as if that made perfect sense. Sky left, leaving him to finish the bath while he headed to prepare Nakit’s pajamas.
A few minutes later, Nani lifted Nakit from the tub, wrapping him in a soft, fluffy towel. The weight of Nakit in Nani’s arms still felt so foreign yet familiar. The small body against his chest was warm, real, undeniable. His son.
It was the first time he had truly held him like this, arms wrapped securely around the tiny form, feeling the way Nakit’s little hands clung to his shirt. Nakit smelled faintly of the baby soap. Walking in, he sat Nakit down watching as Sky expertly dried his hair, helped him into his pajamas, and smoothed a comforting hand down his back as the child climbed into bed.
“Papa let’s read!” Nakit exclaimed choosing a book from his headboard library before handing it to Nani. Nani–surprised– accepted the book and sat down feeling Nakit scramble to sit on his lap. The warmth of the toddler’s body against his own sent an unfamiliar feeling through him, something raw and unnameable, something terrifying in its intensity.
Nakit shifted, adjusting his position in Nani’s hold, and when he looked up, Nani was struck by his son’s eyes. Big and round, filled with so much innocent curiosity, those eyes were watching him—studying him in a way that made Nani’s throat tighten. He had seen those eyes before, in fleeting glances, in moments when he passed by the nursery or caught glimpses of Sky playing with him. But he had never looked. Not like this.
His hair was soft, a little messy from the way he had been curled up against Sky moments ago. Nani reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing through the dark strands. Nakit blinked but didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into the touch. Something in Nani’s chest clenched painfully.
How much had he missed?
He had seen Nakit grow from a distance, watched Sky guide him through his early years with quiet patience and unwavering love. Nani had convinced himself that being present physically was enough, that his distance wouldn’t matter because Sky was there to make up for it. But now, holding Nakit, feeling the way his small fingers gripped onto him without hesitation, Nani felt the weight of his absence settle over him like a storm cloud.
“I missed you,” he whispered before he could stop himself. The words felt foreign on his tongue, but they were true.
Nakit tilted his head slightly, considering him, before his lips curved into a smile. “You were gone a long time,” he said, his voice soft but certain.
Nani swallowed hard. What could he say to that? What excuse would be enough? He had buried himself in work, in chasing dreams that had once felt like the only thing that mattered. And yet, in the dim light of their quiet home, in the small space between him and his son, those accomplishments felt so distant, so insignificant.
He should say something. He should tell Nakit he was sorry, that he regretted it, that he wished he could change the past. But what good would words do now? Instead, he tightened his hold just slightly, as if grounding himself, as if proving to himself that this moment was real.
“You got bigger,” Nani said instead, a small, breathy chuckle escaping him.
Nakit giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “I’m four now!” He held up four fingers proudly, and Nani felt his heart ache at the realization that he hadn’t even been there to celebrate that milestone.
Four years. Four entire years of missed moments, of birthdays, of scraped knees and bedtime stories, of Sky kissing little bruises better, of tiny arms reaching out for someone who was never there.
“You are,” Nani murmured, forcing a smile despite the lump in his throat. “You’re so big now.”
Nakit seemed satisfied with that answer, settling comfortably against Nani’s chest once more. His little hands rested against Nani’s collar, fingers idly playing with the fabric.
There was something incredibly natural about the way Nakit held onto him. Despite everything, despite the years of distance, Nakit didn’t hesitate to accept him. There was no resentment in his young eyes, no anger. Just trust. Just love. The kind of love that hadn’t been taught to hate him yet.
Nani wished he deserved it.
He looked up, catching Sky’s gaze over Nakit’s head. Sky was watching them with that same quiet understanding, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He was just there, waiting, giving Nani the space to navigate this moment without interference.
It had always been Sky filling in the gaps. Sky had been the one Nakit had relied on. Sky had been the one who wiped his tears, who read him stories, who held him when he was sick, who made sure he never felt unwanted.
And yet, despite all of that, despite the years of absence, Nani was still Nakit’s Papa.
Something inside him ached with that realization. A deep, painful longing for something he had spent so long pushing away. He had convinced himself that he was incapable of this, that he was better off distancing himself. But in Nakit’s eyes, in his tiny hands gripping onto him, in the easy way he accepted Nani’s presence, he saw what he had been too afraid to see before.
It wasn’t too late.
Maybe, just maybe, there was still time to be the father Nakit deserved.