Chapter Text
Bunny was sick and Rin knew it just by the smell coming out of his Alpha's body. The fever that rolled out of Bunny's, like a wave of sunrays, where growing as well and Rin was sure he would have cry himself, if there wasn't a toddler dependent of him as well.
So, Rin took care of his Alpha, washed his hands and his whole body, to then, take care of their child. He skipped a few hours of sleep to make sure everything worked as needed. Feeding his Alpha and his baby and himself, even when he ate last. Giving his Alpha his medicine to help his body fight against the illness, while giving Shun a vitamin gummy bear, while he drank coconut water from the coconut tree in the garden to keep himself healthy.
It was all going well, until it wasn't...
"Papá can't carry you or hug you right now, mi amor," Rin said, picking the toddler up and setting him on his hip.
"But you with Papá always," Shun pouted. "Shun’s turn now," he stated, pointing at the door. "Papá!" He cried out while Rin carried him away from the master bedroom. "Shun wants Papá." The toddler whined while Rin took him outside to the balcony, the grass under his toes, away from a sleeping Bunny.
"Soon, mi amor. Papá will hug you soon," he reassured softly, patting his baby's back with soft hands.
The sun was hitting them now and the breeze was caressing their faces. Shun's white hair flowing with it, just like Rin's own dark tresses of hair. It was nice and calm, but Shun only kept crying and Rin had no idea what else to do to make his baby feel better.
Because this was never what he experienced. Because Sae was there, even when he was sick. Even when their parents weren't Sae was.
I have been thinking a lot about you, shitty Nii-chan. He thought bitterly and sighed heavily. His shoulders felt locked in with the weight of invisible pressure.
Because it would never be a burden to carry his child on his hip, to have that blond hair rest on his shoulder.
"Papá no love Shun more?" And that sad whisper through the silent haze and broke Rin's heart.
"Of course, he loves you. Daddy is sick, and he loves you so much that he doesn't want to make you sick," Rin explained slowly and succinctly, making eye contact with his pup.
"Shun loves Papá," the toddler said, his eyes red, just like his nose and ears. The visible signs of his crying.
"Papá loves you as well. And so do I, but sick people can make other people sick," Rin said. "Do you want your tummy to hurt?" he asked softly, rubbing Shun’s tummy.
"No. Me like my tummy good," he said slowly, touching his tummy and the big dinosaur that was printed on the fabric.
"Papá likes it when your tummy feels good as well, that's why he can't carry you or hug you right now." Rin explained softly, leaving a kiss on Shun's chubby cheek.
"A draw make him better?" The small, toddler vocabulary was endearing and Rin smiled with it.
"Yeah. Papá might like that. Let's make a pretty drawing for Papá. When he is all healed, we will show him, alright?" Shun nodded and wiped the snot from his nose on Rin's clothed shoulder.
Ewwk, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
And instead of being upset, Rin kissed his kid on the head.
"Mama loves you, Shun," he mumbled against his kid's head.
"Shun loves Mama too," he mumbled against Rin's cheek and dropped a kiss there. "Amo, Mamá."
"We love you so much, Shunny." He stated softly, once his baby's arms were wrapped around him tightly.
"We draw now?" The soft whisper made Rin's heart stutter inside his chest.
Rin carried Shun back inside, settling him gently in the brightly lit dining room where the crafting supplies were kept. Shun was still sniffing a little, the big emotions slowly draining away. Rin pulled out a clean sheet of construction paper and a tub of fat, toddler-friendly crayons.
"Alright, artist," Rin murmured, setting Shun down in his booster seat at the table. "We are going to make the very best 'get well soon' picture. What should we draw first?"
Shun’s red-rimmed eyes widened, his frustration replaced by focus. He picked up a deep blue crayon, gripping it with his whole fist. "Papa! Papa... a house!" he instructed, scribbling a wild, circular mess in the center of the page. Rin never thought any human house would ever be circular, but then, the first humans lived inside caves for longer than they lived in houses.
Alpha will love this. Rin watched, biting back a smile.
"A house for Papá. That’s a great idea, mi amor." He gently guided Shun’s hand to help him scratch out a slightly more controlled, large purple circle around the blue one. "And what does Papa likes?"
"Tummy good," Shun said seriously, remembering the earlier conversation. He then picked up a bright orange crayon and drew a series of radiating lines around his blue circle. "Sun! Happy sun."
"It's a very happy sun," Rin agreed,
"Color, mama." Shun instructed him, giving him the yellow crayon. "Papa and Shun!"
Rin accepted, taking a yellow crayon and neatly coloring the surrounding sky. He drew a simple, stick-figure outline of a tall Alpha and a small child holding hands near the bottom corner with a black crayon.
"Like this?" He asked softly to his son. After all, this was Shun’s drawing, not his.
Shun immediately recognized the shapes. "Shun and Papa!" he announced, dropping the crayon and planting a sticky, open-mouthed kiss right on the paper where the little figure's head was. "Kiss!"
Rin chuckled, his Omega heart swelling. He took a red marker and wrote at the top, in neat, elegant script: “Para nuestro Alpha, con mucho amor. Mejorate pronto.”
To our Alpha with much love. Get better soon.
"Now, clouds." Shun announced taking a red color and re-starting his draw.
In a moment of weakness, and maybe because he was utterly tired, he snapped a picture were Shun's small, chubby fingers around the crayons was visible.
Rin - 10:14
Attached 1 picture
Shun's painting
Sae - 10:15
Smart kid
Sae is typing...
Sae - 10:18
Is it okay if I gift him something for his art?
Rin was left flabbergasted and he...
Sae - 10: 20
Forget.
I'm probably overstepping.
Rin - 10:21
He will love it.
Attached mailbox adress.
He lifted Shun from his seat. "The drawing is perfect. Let's hang it on the fridge so Papá knows we made it for him." He suggested and threw his phone on the available surface.
"Yes!" Shun agreed and settled. His pup's heart and feelings were safe once again.
Two days later, the master bedroom door finally opened.
Bunny Iglesias emerged, looking slightly pale and rumpled, but no longer radiating the unpleasant, sickly scent of flu. He’d spent the morning cleaning himself and changing into fresh clothes, confirming he was well and non-contagious. Still, he took a dose of vitamins and another pill for the sickness.
Rin, who had been sitting on the floor in the living room helping Shun build a tower of blocks, looked up, raised himself and smiled—a soft, genuine curve of his lips. "Welcome back, Alpha. How's your body feeling?"
"Good," Bunny replied, his voice a little raspy, but strong. His eyes went immediately to his son, who was currently preoccupied with placing a wobbly block on top of his tower. "Is he… safe? Healthy? Are you healthy, Omega?"
Rin nodded. "Completely safe. We've been careful. He has something to show you, though."
Before Rin could move, Shun caught the sound of his father's voice and the distinctive, grounding scent of his Alpha. He dropped the block, his head snapping up. His little face registered shock, then blinding joy. All in a heartbeat.
"Papa!" Shun shrieked, scrambling to his feet. He ran across the carpet like a tiny, determined missile, colliding with Bunny's legs. "Papa!"
Bunny dropped to his knees without hesitation, catching the little boy in his arms. The powerful scent of relief and love washed over them both. Bunny's heart thrummed inside his chest with affection.
"My brave boy," Bunny whispered, burying his face in the soft, sweet-smelling hair of his son's neck. He lifted Shun high, swinging him around in a gentle circle before settling him close against his chest. "I missed this. I missed you so much, mi solecito."
Shun clung to him, his arms tight around Bunny's neck, not saying a word, just inhaling the familiar, healthy scent that meant everything was right in his world again. "Papa. Amo papa."
Rin walked over, placing a gentle hand on Bunny's back. "He was so worried. He thought you didn't love him because you wouldn't hug him."
Bunny pulled back slightly, looking into Shun’s shining eyes. "Never, little pup. Never. Papá was sick, but now I’m well. Now I can hold you forever." He pressed a deep, Alpha-calming kiss to Shun's forehead.
Shun wiped his slightly wet cheek on Bunny’s clean shoulder. "Draw for Papa," he announced proudly, pointing toward the kitchen.
Bunny smiled, a full, radiant, Alpha smile that made Rin’s heart stutter. "A drawing? Let's go see it." His face turned serious, his pup was speaking serious business and Bunny wanted to honor that. He settled Shun securely on his hip, and walked into the kitchen, Rin following closely behind. Bunny paused in front of the refrigerator, looking at the riot of yellow sun, blue and purple house, blue rays and red clouds, with the two little stick figures holding hands underneath Rin's elegant script.
"This," Bunny said, his voice thick with emotion, "is the best medicine in the whole world. Thank you, Shunny." He kissed his son again and then looked over Shun's head at Rin, his golden eyes radiating gratitude. "Thank you, Omega. For keeping us both safe."
Rin just gave a small, knowing smile. "Always, Alpha."
"Amo papa." Shun whispered against Bunny's cheek.
"También te amo mucho, mucho, mi solecito." He kissed their kid's forehead and prepared himself to listen to a long story about all the things he missed while he was down with the flu.
Rin besides them, looking, absorbing, caring. Stable, as Bunny's personal hero.
A hero the Alpha wanted to protect.
The setting sun cast long, golden shadows across the living room carpet. Bunny was stretched out on the sofa, fully recovered and radiating a warm, comforting Alpha scent that grounded the room. Shun was nestled snugly into the space between Bunny’s side and the sofa cushions, running a tiny toy car back and forth over his father’s chest.
Rin sat in a nearby armchair, watching them both, a rare expression of deep contentment smoothing the sharp edges of his face. The house felt balanced and right again.
"You like that car, little pup?" Bunny murmured, his voice now fully returned, rich and low. He shifted slightly, nudging the car gently with a finger.
Shun looked up, his face serious. "Go fast, Papa," he directed, demonstrating a quick push of the car. "Vroom! Vroom!"
"It goes very fast, hijo mío," Bunny agreed, pressing a light kiss to the top of Shun's head. The simple, non-verbal connection they shared after the forced separation felt sweeter than usual.
Rin stood up and walked into the kitchen, returning moments later with two mugs of herbal tea and a small sippy cup with warm milk—Shun’s favorite before sleeping.
"It’s almost bedtime, saiai," Rin announced softly, setting the sippy cup on the coffee table. He handed Bunny his mug, their fingers brushing briefly. While Shun climbed down the sofa, his Alpha father's hand helping him down to reach his milk. Rin’s Omega scent, usually minty and fresh, had an underlying sweetness now—a clear signal to his Alpha that he was relaxed and feeling safe.
Bunny took the mug, his eyes warm as he watched Rin settle down beside him, drawing his knees up. "Thank you, Omega."
Shun, having drink his milk, started to grow sleepy. He rubbed his eyes and, with a tired whine, left his place in the rug and went straight to Rin, tucking himself into the familiar comfort of his mother’s side.
"Story time?" Rin asked, gently stroking Shun's hair.
Bunny nodded, taking a long sip of his tea. "Story time," he confirmed, putting the mug down.
The coffee table now a home to 3 mugs of something that was made with pure love.
Bunny shifted to face them, his powerful Alpha physique leaning in close, creating a warm, protective barrier around his family. Shun, his head resting heavily on Rin’s shoulder, was already half-asleep.
"Tonight," Bunny began, his voice dropping to a hypnotic, soothing pitch, "we tell the story of the Omega y el Cazador (The Omega and the Hunter). Long, long ago, in a forest that smelled of dew and pine needles, lived a strong hunter Alpha. He was so fast he could chase the wind, and so clever he could trick the slyest fox."
Shun blinked slowly, mesmerized by the deep sound of his Papá’s voice.
"But the Hunter was lonely," Bunny continued. "He found the best berries and caught the biggest fish, but he had no one to share them with. One day, deep in the woods, he heard a sound—a beautiful, quiet melody. It was an Omega, singing a song of the sea, even though they were far from the water."
As Bunny spoke, he reached out, his large hand gently stroking Rin’s forearm. Rin leaned his head back against the sofa, his eyelids growing heavy. The recent stress and the Alpha's soothing presence were working their magic.
Rin, being a male Omega, often felt the need for his Alpha’s touch, especially when tired or vulnerable. Bunny instinctively picked up on this. As he narrated, Bunny slowly began to massage Rin's tense shoulder muscles through his shirt, his touch firm and therapeutic. This quiet nursing eased the lingering fatigue of caring for a sick Alpha and a demanding toddler.
"The Omega's song calmed the Hunter's heart," Bunny narrated, his gaze fixed on Rin's face, his tone laced with deep affection. "The Hunter realized that the biggest fish and the finest furs were nothing compared to that song. He promised the Omega he would always protect them, always bring them home, and always listen to their heart."
Bunny finished the story with a soft, final murmur. Shun was completely asleep, his small hand fisted in Rin's shirt.
Bunny’s hand stilled on Rin's shoulder, then moved to cup the back of Rin's head, pulling him gently closer for a soft, chaste kiss. Lips pressed against lips.
"That was a good story, Alpha," Rin whispered, feeling the deep ache of tension leave his body. "And a very good massage."
"Only the best for my Omega," Bunny replied, gathering both his sleepy son and his content partner into a single, strong embrace. "Now, let's get our little pup to bed."
Bunny carefully lifted Shun from Rin’s arms, holding the nineteen-month-old close. The change in the boy's weight and warmth was immense compared to the strained longing he had felt just days ago. He carried his son down the hallway to the nursery, the familiar scent of baby powder, Rin’s light Omega notes, and a splash of his own Alpha security filling the air.
He laid Shun gently in the crib. The little boy sighed, rolling onto his side and instantly finding his favorite stuffed toy. Bunny stood there for a moment, simply watching.
God, I hated being sick.
The forced isolation had been brutal. Not only because of the physical discomfort of the flu, but because of the deep, primal instinct that demanded he be close to his family. Hearing Shun cry for him, seeing Rin’s tired eyes as he managed everything alone—it had been agony.
Bunny took a deep, steady breath, the clean, crisp air tasting perfect after the days of congestion. The flu had stripped him of his strength, but the separation had highlighted his dependency on their bond. He was an Alpha, strong and capable, but his true function was to be here, protecting, providing comfort, and being the anchor for his Omega and son.
The little whisper of insecurity from Shun—"Papá no love Shun more?"—still stung. It was a terrifying thought: that the necessary act of protection could be interpreted as abandonment. He vowed to make up for those lost days with a double dose of cuddles and attention.
He placed a hand gently on Shun's back, letting a surge of calm, loving Alpha scent permeate the blanket. Safe. Healthy. Mine.
"Te amo, hijo mio." He whispered. "My beautiful solecito." The devotions in his words were coming straight from his heart.
He straightened, gave one last look at his sleeping pup, and quietly slipped out, closing the door behind him. He needed his Omega now.
Bunny returned to the living room, finding Rin already curled back into the fluffy sofa, nursing his now-cool herbal tea. The lights were low, casting the room in a gentle amber hue.
Bunny walked over, taking Rin’s empty tea mug. Instead of sitting back on the sofa, he knelt by Rin’s chair, resting his forearms on Rin's knees.
"You look tired, Omega," Bunny said softly, his voice low and concerned.
Rin reached out, his cool fingers immediately running through the thick strands of Bunny’s hair. "I am. Toddlers and sick Alphas are a formidable combination." He paused, his expression softening. "But I'm good now. You being well makes everything easier."
"I saw the drawing," Bunny murmured, his thumb rubbing small circles on Rin’s knee. "It meant a lot. His lines and your calligraphy... It meant a lot to me."
Because I went to have no family, to have a mother, an Omega and son.
"He was so upset when he thought you didn't love him anymore," Rin sighed, looking away briefly. "That was the hardest part. Trying to explain the germ theory to a kid who only understands affection through physical presence."
Bunny leaned in, resting his forehead against Rin’s knee. "Thank you for handling it. For protecting him. You did a perfect job, Rin."
"I just did what I had to," Rin replied, his tone firm, but the slight tremor in his hand betrayed his exhaustion. "He needed reassurance that his Alpha would always come back to him. I was just the buffer."
Bunny pulled back just enough to look up into Rin's striking blue eyes. "You're never 'just' a buffer, Omega. You are the foundation. The stability. I can hunt and fight because I know you hold the center, our home, steady. We got through this because you were strong enough for all three of us."
Rin scoffed, trying to hide his reaction, but his eyes were shining with unshed emotion. "Cheesy, Alpha."
"True," Bunny countered, his face completely earnest. He stood up, pulling Rin up from the chair and into a hug that was less about passion and more about pure, restorative comfort. "We are going to bed, and you are going to sleep until noon."
Rin leaned into the strength of his mate, the scent of health and security enveloping him completely. "Sounds like a plan, Mr. Iglesias."
The next kiss was chaste, small and theirs.
Shun Iglesias
Art by: GreeneySilvery