Chapter Text
George might not be the guy who's fixated on listing down things so that he can figure out the consequences of his own actions. But he's also always been sensible enough to know which actions needed drastic measures and which didn't.
So when his sister came up to him and begged him to look after her kid so she could spend two weeks away to enjoy her well-deserved holiday, logically, nothing crazy was supposed to happen if he lent her a hand, right?
Then, maybe he did forget to consider that Max, his boyfriend, can sometimes be as much of a child as a 3-year-old boy.
Because why was it that on that fine night, his arm felt like it was being torn off his body from how hard his nephew was pulling him? Surely not because his grown-up boyfriend was teasing him, right?
“Well, but George is mine, tho.”
“No! Mine!”
“I don't know about that, dude. Then why can I do this?”
Peck.
“No! No kisses him! Only Kimi!”
George sighed tiredly. Maybe, for the hundredth time that day. “Max, are you aware that you're fighting a little kid?”
“Have you considered that he was the one starting the fight—Aw! He bit me!”
“Go away from Georgie!”
If he could, George wished to become one with the couch under him as his little nephew tugged his arm with surprising strength, while Max—a fully grown man, mind you—nuzzled closer while chuckling, watching Kimi's frustrated face.
So no, though George might not be the best guy who was always careful about consequences, George had never thought that agreeing to babysit his nephew would turn into him babysitting two toddlers who are fighting for custody rights to cuddle him.
George closed his eyes. Two weeks. He might not survive two days.
Like a broken record, the tug of war continued. Max ended up staying over that night because he didn’t have to go to work until noon the next day. They woke up with their limbs tangled. No, they didn’t do anything the night before because, “No, Max. There’s a whole child next door.”
Gladly, Max accepted that reason well, though he did mumble something like, ‘we’re not having a kid ever then.’
“How long is he staying here?” Max asked, nuzzling closer to George’s side.
“Two weeks top.”
“How about your work?”
“You know I mostly work from home.”
Max groaned. “We need to do something about this gremlin.”
George swatted his arm. “That's my baby nephew.”
As they continued to cuddle, the door creaked open not long after.
“No!” A tiny disapproving voice echoed through the room.
“Hell, here we go again,” Max groaned. Didn't have to look over to know who it was.
“Georgie's Kimi's!” Kimi shouted as he tried to climb up the bed. His hair went crazy in every direction.
“Then why am I the one hugging him?” Max pulled George closer and wrapped his arms around him.
“Georgie, no!” The toddler hailed dramatically. George giggled, watching him struggle.
“What George? You're mine? Well, of course,” Max said unprompted to tease Kimi.
“No!” Once Kimi made it up the bed, he threw himself on the pile of their bodies and tried to peel Max's hands off of George.
“Max, you're gonna make him cry,” George warned, but instead Max tightened his arms around George. “Maxie,” George emphasized.
“Maxie,” Kimi tried to copy George's tone in frustration.
That made Max laugh and loosened his hold on George.
Kimi immediately squeezed himself between the two, with the strength of a 3-year-old.
“Jesus, what did you guys feed him, why's he so freakishly strong?” Max pushed to the side, watching Kimi snuggling on George, who welcomed him into his arms.
“Hello, little dude.” George greeted Kimi. “Did you have a good sleep?”
Kimi nodded, then glanced at Max. “Georgie's mine! Go!”
“Are you challenging me?”
Kimi shrieked, curled up closer to George as Max looked like he was about to jump them.
“Stop it, Verstappen. You have work.”
“Wo'k!”
Max sighed in defeat. He got out of bed, but not after leaving an open mouthed bite on Kimi's arm playfully.
“That's a payback from last night!”
Kimi cried at that, and a big, dramatic one.
“Ouchie, Georgie!”
That morning, George spent it by shushing Kimi and singing to him, ‘pain-pain go away’ while nagging Max, who wouldn't stop grumbling things like ‘what a baby, I didn't even bite him like that’, ‘such a baby’ while getting ready to leave.
Surprised he didn't end up laughing because it was true, Max's teeth didn’t even graze Kimi's skin.
George found himself starting his morning in a delightful mood. Maybe, dealing with the two wouldn't be so bad.
The following weekend, on a Saturday at noon, Max visited his place unannounced. Or so George thought.
“What? We had a movie to catch, remember?” He said as he slipped into the room, as George was folding his laundry.
“Do we?” George asked back calmly, trying to conceal the mental facepalm as he remembered the promise he made a few weeks ago.
“Yeah? We got the ticket and everything,” Max confirmed. He pulled his phone out and showed the e-tickets in his emails. “See? You were the one who asked me to book the tickets.”
That was indeed true. Well, the thing was—
“Fish!” Kimi almost shouted cheerfully from the living room.
“Oh no,” George exclaimed, almost sprinting outside without preparing himself for what he was going to witness. “Bloody hell, Kimi,” he whispered, making sure it was inaudible to the toddler.
“Georgie, fish!” Kimi hailed again, water dripping from his chubby fists.
“What’s—” Max appeared from behind George. His eyes widened at the sight of Kimi, perched on the table, proudly clutching a wriggling fish. A second later, Max burst out laughing—loud, obnoxious, and entirely unhelpful—before leaning his full weight against George’s shoulder as if George wasn’t already one deep breath away from combusting. “How did he even know he could do that?” Max wheezed between laughs.
George had noticed Kimi’s strange obsession with the aquarium since the first time he laid his eyes on it. The toddler had tried to climb the stand twice already, pressing his face against the glass like he was trying to communicate with the inhabitants. Maybe George shouldn’t have spun that ridiculous shark tale earlier—something about ‘big teeth waiting for naughty fingers.’ Apparently, it had the opposite effect.
He reached out instinctively. “Kimi, put it back in—”
But everything happened too fast.
Kimi, beaming as he’d just cracked the most brilliant idea in his little head, shoved the entire wriggling fish straight into his mouth.
“No!” George and Max shrieked in perfect, horrified unison.
They lunged together. George cupped Kimi’s cheeks, gently prying his mouth open while Max pinned the toddler’s wiggling arms behind his back like he was apprehending a tiny bandit—still snickering the whole time.
“Spit it out, Kimi! For Heaven's sake!” George pleaded. “You’re not helping!” he snapped at Max once or twice.
After a few frantic seconds of coaxing, nagging, and one particularly unhelpful “Come on, buddy, fish aren’t snacks!” from Max, Kimi finally made a disgusted face and spat the fish out. It landed with a sad, wet plop on the carpet.
George snatched it up immediately and dropped it back into the aquarium. The little thing fluttered once, twice, then righted itself and swam away like an alien creature didn't just swallow its whole body.
He wasn’t sure what he was more grateful for: the fish surviving, or the fact that his nephew hadn’t just swallowed a raw firefish whole.
Max set Kimi down on the floor with exaggerated care, still grinning. “Were you thinking it was sushi?”
Kimi blinked up at them both, cheeks still puffed from the ordeal, then pointed at the aquarium again. “Fish?”
“No, okay?” George warned, with the sternest voice he could muster. “No more fish!”
“Movie then?” Max chimed in.
“No! Do you want me to leave him and come back to him with a body made of 50% fish?!”
“Like… a mermaid?”
“Blimey,” George cursed exhaustedly. He was really dealing with two kids.
“Tough crowd over here,” Max joked, nudging Kimi as the toddler would understand him.
George rolled his eyes, pivoting his attention to Kimi, who had his tongue out.
“Yucky! Blegh!”
“Obviously? That's why you didn't just eat fresh live fish from a tank!” George nagged, swooping the toddler up in his arms and heading to the bathroom.
“He'd like sushi,” Max got a glare from George. “So strict over here.”
After rinsing Kimi's mouth and the smell, they went back into the living room. Max already accepted the defeat that they wouldn't be catching that movie.
As Max was already sprawled on the couch, Kimi waddled to him and sniffed him.
“Yucky!”
Max flipped around and gasped, taking that as an offence. He took a sniff of his own shirt. “Hey, it's because of you! Who in their right mind just grabs a fish from a tank with their bare hand and shoves it into their mouth? Are you five?!”
“He's three,” George answered, watching the two from the dinner table.
“See, that’s even worse.”
“Fishy!” Kimi repeated, pointing at Max. “Yuck!”
“What— You're smelly too!” Max shot back. “Maybe I should've just let that fish go down your throat.”
Kimi stuck out his tongue in a mocking manner to Max before running to George, definitely looking for protection.
“He sticks his tongue out at me!” Max followed him behind, complaining to George.
George couldn't help but giggle. Kimi climbed up his lap before he scooped him up.
“Georgie, Maxie is yucky,” with his hand blocking his nose, Kimi whispered in George's ear. Though it didn't work because, obviously, Max heard it.
George giggled, nodding at him. “Should we ask him to take a bath?”
“Hey, why are you ganging up on me?”
“Go shower, you're smelly.”
“Maxie, showa, please!”
“Go, you still have a pair of trousers and shirt here.”
Max only flapped his arms in exaggerated defeat, staring at them in mock betrayal before finally accepting his fate. He dragged his feet toward the bathroom, muttering loud enough for the whole house to hear.
“Didn’t even get my date, my tickets went to ashes, and now you two are teaming up against me.” He paused at the doorway. “What a lovely Saturday!” The door clicked shut behind him.
George shook his head, fighting a smile. “Stop being so dramatic. We can still catch a movie here.”
“D’matic!” Kimi parroted.
From inside the bathroom, Max’s voice echoed back. “Really?”
They ended up spending the rest of Saturday snuggled together with George between them under a blanket, popcorn bowl balanced precariously on the armrest, watching whatever animated movie Kimi had pointed at with his bottle of milk in absolute certainty.
Max grumbled through the opening credits. “God, I should be watching a horror movie right now, but here we are with freaking Finding Nemo.”
Yet somehow, he was the one patiently answering every single random question Kimi fired their way.
“Is Nemo fish?”
“Yes, Nemo is a fish.”
“Is shark bad?”
“No, they'll just eat you if you're yummy.”
“...Is Kimi yummy?”
“Very.”
At that, Kimi hid in the crook of George's neck for a while.
It might not be the date night he’d pictured weeks ago, but maybe this was better.
Just when George finally thought the two might coexist peacefully, the universe reminded him otherwise.
It began innocently enough—almost sweet. Max appeared the next day with a bright new set of mini basketball hoops and a small ball in tow.
“You don’t have to, you know,” George said.
But Max handed the gift to Kimi with a sly grin on his face. “Maybe this will keep him busy so we can actually have some time to ourselves.”
George should’ve seen through him better next time.
Kimi, being oblivious of Max’s motive, received the gift with wide-eyed delight. “‘Sketball!” he squealed, clutching the ball with both hands.
For a blissful few minutes, the plan seemed to work. George and Max managed a rare moment of quiet cuddling, undisturbed by tiny prying hands or dramatic demands. But Max had other ideas and thought it'd be more interesting to treat the play time like Kimi was one step away from being an Olympian.
“Boy, that's not how you do it!”
“Kimi be careful. Max, I swear if any of you knock something off the wall—”
“You step once, twice, then jump, and then dunk!”
“Okie!”
“Max!”
“What is it, Schat?” Max called out, feigning innocence as he lowered his imaginary coach’s whistle.
George let out an exasperated sigh, ready to scold him, but didn’t get the chance—Kimi’s triumphant squeal interrupted any hope of a lecture.
“Yeayyy! In!” Kimi cried, tiny fists raised in victory as the ball made it through the hoop. He dashed to Max, who cheered just as loudly.
“That’s what I’m talking about!”
They high-fived as if both had been bros like that since day one.
George watched from the couch, arms crossed, fighting back a smile that was suddenly forming on his face. George decided to stand up and head to the dinner table with his laptop. He left them in the living room, thinking it might be good for them to bond.
As George became engrossed in editing the third article of the day, a loud bang echoed from the living room. Suddenly, his headache returned.
He could hear shushing and whispers, but intentionally chose not to look back, letting them handle the situation themselves.
“Georgie mad?” Kimi whispered to Max.
Max chuckled in response. “It’s okay, man. Just a picture frame.” The sound of broken glass clinking could be heard as Max tried to clean up the mess.
George watched them through his laptop screen as Max lifted Kimi and placed him on the couch. “Okay, stay there and don’t move,” he instructed before returning to clean up the shards of glass.
George dimmed his laptop screen just enough to keep an eye on them without being obvious.
Kimi stood frozen on the couch; either he took Max’s words literally, or he was just too anxious. Small hands nervously tugging at the hem of his shirt, his gaze fixed on George’s back as Max swept up the broken glass on the floor.
After a minute or so, Max finished cleaning and gently lifted Kimi off the couch.
“C’mon. Let’s get a new one.”
“Georgie…?”
The quiet, uncertain note in Kimi’s voice made something ache sharply in George’s chest.
“He’s still working, buddy. C’mon.”
As they headed out the door, Kimi never once looked away—his wide eyes stayed glued to George’s back until the door clicked shut behind them.
By the time they returned, it was already dark outside. George was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
“Is pizza good for tonight?” Max announced as he passed through the door.
“Hm,” George hummed without looking up.
Max walked into the room and set Kimi on the floor, but the toddler immediately clung to Max's legs, trying to hide from George. He held a small bag in his hand.
George bit back a smile, feeling a twinge of guilt at finding the little boy's frightened expression oddly endearing.
As George considered breaking his stoic demeanor, Max chuckled at Kimi for trailing behind him as he went to the kitchen to set the pizza box on the table. “It’s okay, bud, give it to Georgie,” Max encouraged.
George's interest piqued at the mention of his name.
“Georgie’s mad at Kimi?”
“He is not. Go on,” Max gently nudged Kimi toward George.
Kimi’s small feet shuffled as he waddled over.
Max flopped down beside George, watching them as he adjusted a picture of George and his sister from earlier into the new frame.
“Kimi’s sorry,” Kimi said in a dejected tone. George had to resist the urge to scoop him up into his arms. Kimi’s little hand thrust the small bag to George timidly. “For Georgie.”
George took the bag gently. Inside was a sealed plastic bag containing a fish. George raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Nemo?”
“Nemo!” Kimi squealed excitedly. However, his cheerful tone quickly faded as he noticed George staring at him. “Kimi’s sorry,” he repeated timidly.
At the time, George could no longer contain his laughter. “What? Are you teaching him the art of bribery?”
“Someone has to. I made it this far, thanks to it.” Max shrugged.
“And you landed on… a clown fish?”
“Hey, he chose the item. It was either that or an electric eel.”
George snorted in amusement. He looked back at Kimi, who was still looking at him in uncertainty. “You wanna put it into the tank?”
Kimi’s face immediately lit up. Nodding, his fluffy hair bounced on his head. “Lesgo!”
George picked him up and carried him to the tank, with Max following behind after putting the photo frame back on the wall and setting down the hoops.
“Fishes!” Kimi squealed excitedly as he watched the firefish from a few days ago welcome the new member into the tank.
“I’m not sure if this gift was more for me or for him,” George said, observing Kimi as he marveled at the tank.
“Yeah, you’re spoiled enough already, so…”
George nudged Max playfully at his comment. “And what now? Are you on a mission to spoil him?”
Max chuckled, ruffling Kimi’s hair playfully. “Maybe that way he’ll let me steal his uncle.”
A smile formed on George’s face as he watched the tank with Kimi, noting that the two fish were already getting along well.
And Max didn't lie when he said he was planning on spoiling Kimi. George wasn't sure whether to feel happy or mildly terrified because, as it turned out, Max had a problem with saying ‘no’ to the little boy.
Two days later, George called Max up to help him watch over Kimi as he had an online meeting that couldn't be interrupted.
“Is it okay to take him to that park a few blocks away from here?”
“Yeah, just make sure you don’t lose him.”
“Give me some credits.”
“Kimi, don’t get dirty things inside your mouth. Don’t be naughty,” George warned Kimi as he handed Max a bag of Kimi’s snacks. Max gave George’s lips a peck before taking the bag.
And then the two, hand in hand, left the apartment with Kimi babbling about ‘no kiss Georgie!’
Not even fifteen minutes after they left, he got a message from Max.
Max
>Spidey costume
>He said he hasn't had any
>Also, he's cool with chocolate, right?
And the train of messages didn’t stop as the whole meeting dragged on, and obviously, George couldn’t answer with anything resembling basic logic and sensible adults. His phone kept buzzing under the table.
Max
>There’s a new bookstore
>Is it better to give him books about fish or math?
>Or capitalism lol
Max
>He likes clowns?
>How th am I getting him one?
>A balloon clown might be enough, no?
Max
>He wants to jump into a pond in the park???
>The one with tons of koi fish
>This kid’s obsession with fish srsly
>We should take him to an aquarium site
>Or the ocean, he might be a merman
Max
>He really wants to jump
>Do I say no ?
>He's pretty persuasive for a 3yo
Finally, during a brief break, George managed a frantic reply.
You
Obviously??<
Did you let him?<
Max
>Of course, no ?
>Distracted him with something else lol
>Okay, anyway, how many ice creams could a 3yo have before they explode?
>Hypothetically.
You
????<
Just so you know, I won’t be dealing with him during his sugar rush episode<
Max
>😦
George stared at his phone; the meeting was about to continue. He rubbed his temples. Sugar rush incoming. Great.
George ended up sending Max a rushed voice note telling him not to come back before his meeting finished. He wasn't about to do a presentation about an annual editorial planning with a screaming toddler in the background.
They arrived approximately fifteen minutes after George sent Max a thumb emoji. He popped up on the door with an obviously bouncy Kimi, dangling from Max’s arms, in a sweat-soaked spider suit and a clown floating from his hand.
“I tried my best, I swear,” Max said in exaggerated surrender. Or maybe not so exaggerated; George could only imagine the chaos Max had endured with a sugar-fueled monster.
The toddler bounced frantically in his arms. Shouting, “Down! Down!” eager to be released to his freedom. As soon as Max set Kimi down, the toddler ran around the room, bouncing like a pinball.
“This is going to be a long night,” George sighed deeply, looking at Max as if to say, ‘And you’re going to endure it all with me.’
And George wasn’t wrong.
They spent twenty minutes watching Kimi bounce off the walls. “Up! Up! Spin!” Once or twice—well more actually, Kimi asked Max to spin him around, and despite his reluctance, Max complied. He didn’t seem to mind, though; he actually appeared to be having fun alongside Kimi.
“You need to stop enabling him,” George warned as he picked up the Spidey guy’s mask off the floor after Kimi threw it aimlessly.
“What should I do? Say no?” Max rebutted, falling down onto the carpet after another round of spin.
“Exactly?”
“To that face?!” Max pointed to Kimi, who was trying to dangle himself on the basketball hoop while laughing at god knows what. Surely not the cutest he’d ever been in George's opinion.
George snorted in amusement. “Weren’t you the one who said we need to do something about this gremlin?” George made sure he put enough emphasis on the last word.
Max peered up with one eye open at George. “Surprisingly he took after his uncle in getting into someone’s head.”
George threw a pillow at Max’s face playfully at the remark.
The room looked like a battlefield at the time of a bunch of kindergartners. A bunch of newly purchased coloring books and crayons scattered on the floor, a now deflated clown balloon lying on the table, and even George’s stack of magazines made the cut to being distributed all over the room.
Kimi was at it again, scrambling up the mini basketball hoop mounted on the wall like it was a building some Spidey guy would climb.
“He’s acting like he’s on his fifth can of Red Bull,” Max muttered, still sprawled lifelessly on the carpet, one arm flung over his eyes.
“Sounds like something you’d have,” George shot back, bending to gather the scattered magazines.
Kimi swung his little leg up for the next grip—and missed. His foot found nothing but air. It all happened in a heartbeat: George barely had time to register the slip before Kimi’s hand lost its hold on the ring.
“Kimi!” George’s voice cracked in pure horror as the toddler’s small body tipped backward, already halfway through the fall.
“Shit—” Max reacted on pure instinct. He rolled over and the pillow he’d been clutching flew from his hand, arcing toward Kimi just in time.
The soft thud came a second later—not against the floor, but against the cushion. Kimi landed square in the middle of the pillow with a surprised “Oof!”, rolling once before sitting up, blinking in confusion.
“You— oh, bloody hell,” George breathed, already rushing over on shaking legs.
“Man, that was close,” Max huffed, dropping his forehead to the carpet with a dull thud.
George dropped to his knees beside Kimi, hands hovering, then gently turning him this way and that. “Are you okay, buddy?’
“Uh,” Kimi chirped, letting George flip him around like a rag doll, completely unbothered.
“Does anything ouchie?” George didn’t even realize he slipped into Kimi language.
“S’eepy,” Kimi mumbled, rubbing one eye with his little fist.
George exhaled in relief. “Of course you are! Okay, let’s get you to bed.”
Max pushed himself up onto his elbows, hair a disaster. “He finally ran out of fuel.”
With Kimi already half-asleep and curled against his chest, George shifted closer to Max on the carpet. He reached out and ruffled Max’s sweaty, disastrous hair with gentle fingers.
Max leaned into the touch like an overtired cat, eyes fluttering closed for a second. “Mmm.”
“You’re probably exhausted too,” George murmured, voice soft. “Go wash up and crash here if you want.”
“Hmm.” Max hummed. George chuckled at him before messing with his hair playfully. Max cracked one eye open, lips twitching. “Hey. What a way to say thanks for saving the day.”
George rolled his eyes, fond. He leaned down and pressed a quick peck to Max’s lips before standing up and heading to the bathroom to give Kimi a warm wash. “Thanks for not being the bigger toddler out of the two today. Seriously.”
Max snickered. Stood up and followed both to give himself a quick wash.
After a few comical attempts to wrangle a very listless, half-asleep Kimi through a warm wash—complete with dramatic pleas of “Come on, bud, stay awake just a little longer!” from Max and George’s exasperated “Max, just get out if you’re not helping”—they finally got the toddler clean, dry, and dressed in soft pajamas.
Once Kimi was fully out, George turned—and startled slightly to find Max leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, a quiet, unguarded smile on his face. He’d already changed into his old hoodie and joggers from George’s closet.
“Be glad he didn’t get cranky,” George said softly, easing the door almost closed behind him. “Maybe we can just report to his mum it was a ‘good day’ and leave out the part where he nearly became a human pancake.”
Max’s smile didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened, soft around the edges.
George raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer. “What? You’re being creepy.”
“How are you so good with kids?” Max asked, voice low, almost wondering.
George blinked. “What are you talking about? I’m winging it half the time.”
Max didn’t answer right away. Instead he let George walk ahead, then slipped up behind him, arms sliding around George’s waist. He tucked his face into the crook of George’s neck, breath warm against skin, and mumbled something unintelligible.
George laughed under his breath, the sound vibrating through both of them as they waddled awkwardly toward the bedroom like a three-legged race with only two participants. “What was that? Use your words, Verstappen.”
Max huffed against his neck, the sound half-exasperated, half-content. He tightened his arms just a fraction.
“I said…” He lifted his head enough to speak clearly. “…maybe we wouldn’t be terrible at it. Having one. Someday.”
George’s steps faltered for half a second. “Didn’t you say you didn’t want one? Stop fooling around.” His first instinct was to laugh it up, but when he peered at Max through his shoulder, he didn’t seem like joking. “Blimey, are you having a baby fever?”
Max groaned, his head nuzzling back into George’s skin. “I’ll give you a baby one way or another.”
George pulled himself away just so he could turn around. “Don’t be ridiculous, Verstappen.”
George was about to say something again when he heard the delirious whispers coming from Kimi’s room. He quickly pulled Max into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.
After studying Max for a few seconds, George couldn't help but laugh. “Oh god, you really have baby fever.”
Max looked up at him with a defensive expression. “Well, you look ridiculously good taking care of a kid, and it drives me nuts.”
“And that’s a good enough reason to have a kid, right?” George teased.
“Not right now, obviously. Maybe in a few years. Also, giving Kimi a friend wouldn’t be so bad,” Max attempted to explain.
With his arms crossed, George leaned back against the door, looking at Max through his eyelashes. “You don’t look so bad either, dealing with a kid.”
Max raised an eyebrow at him and snorted. “So we’re on the same boat then?” he asked, his voice low as he stepped closer to George, resting his hand on George's hips and giving them a slight squeeze.
George laughed; the sound rumbled in his ribcage. “Actually, maybe not until you learn how to say no to him.”
Max sighed as if he’s losing at something. “He’s so persuasive, you don’t understand. You should tell him to study marketing or sales.”
George chuckled at Max’s reasoning. “God, you’re so stupid.”
One thing led to another, and their lips crashed together. Max led both to the bed and George let himself be guided, half-laughing into the kiss even as his back hit the mattress. Max hovered above him for a second, eyes bright and a little wild, like the adrenaline from the near-disaster earlier was still buzzing under his skin.
“So,” George murmured, voice teasing, “how exactly are you planning to give me a baby, hm?”
Max groaned on his skin as he dragged his lips down George’s throat, teeth grazing just enough to make him arch.
“Don’t fucking tempt me, Russell.” Max’s voice dropped a notch. It shuddered against George’s skin.
George tugged him back up, mouths colliding again, hungrier this time.
They were too lost in the heat of the moment to notice the soft creak of the door until it was already too late. George’s reflexes kicked in and shoved Max off with a startled kick. Max landed hard on the floor with a startled curse.
“What the—!”
“Kimi,” George said, voice cracking. He bolted upright with shirt half-open, hair a disaster, and cheeks flushed. He cleared his throat before asking, “What’s wrong?”
Max lingered on the floor a moment longer, groaning as he rubbed his tailbone, then hauled himself up with a quiet string of Dutch under his breath.
Kimi stood in the doorway, eyes barely open, one small hand pressed to his stomach. “Georgie… ouchie.”
“Oh, poor thing.” George’s voice softened instantly. He opened his arms. “Come here, lad.”
Kimi padded over and let George scoop him up, settling him gently against the pillows. Max watched from the foot of the bed, expression unreadable, still absently rubbing his lower back.
“Is he staying here?” he asked in a quiet whisper, a faint edge of disappointment in his voice.
“Well, yes,” George murmured, lips curving just a little. “You’re also going to have to learn how to share.”
He pulled Kimi a fraction closer. Max exhaled through his nose, then wordlessly slipped behind George and draped an arm around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder.
Kimi grumbled immediately. “No!” His tiny hand swatted at Max’s arm.
Max lifted his head just enough to peer over George’s shoulder at the toddler. “What—? I thought we were friends now?” He asked in disbelief.
“No!”
“I get it, you’re a no machine.”
George huffed a soft laugh. “Just move to his other side,” he suggested, nudging Max gently.
Max grumbled but complied, sliding around to the other side of the bed so Kimi was safely sandwiched between them. Only then did the toddler finally relax, curling tighter into George’s side with a tiny, contented sigh.
The next morning George woke first. He almost jumped at the sight.
Careful not to jostle anyone, he reached for his phone on the nightstand and snapped a quick photo: Kimi had migrated in the night, now completely draped across Max’s chest, one little arm flung recklessly over him, cheek squished against Max’s hoodie.