⋆౨ৎ husband!nanami taking care of baby!yuuji while you're on your girls trip
“Are you sure you’ll be fine alone with him?”
“Yes honey. yuuji loves me,” he says as certain as ever.
“ He loves you so much he left a little surprise on you” you giggle out. Nanami tilts his head, puzzled, following your gaze. There, dripping down his special silk tie, was a fresh, batch of spit-up milk from half an hour ago.
“Wow kid. dontcha think this is a bit much considering I'm your father?” Nanami sighs in exhaustion, ”you seriously know how to stress a guy out,” he adds. yuuji just lets out a bubbly giggle that Nanami couldn't resist cracking a smile at. Instinctively patting his head.
“Aww look at this father-son heart to heart” you grab a napkin and clean up the dairy disaster on nanami yuuji merrily left.
“You promise you’ll take good care of yuuji?”
“Yes honey. stop worrying your pretty head off” looking down at you cleaning his tie.
“I don’t want yuuji coming to me aggressively speaking in infant gibberish about how you were trying to train him like its kung-fu-panda” you say urgently.
“And I don't want you constantly on ten toes, worrying about me and this shit-head, while you’re supposed to be enjoying your time with shoko, utahime, and yuki”
“God forbid a mother be worried for her son” you say while nanami walks you to the door.
“Yeah yeah, whatever you say velcro mom”
“I am not-” before you could finish what you were saying nanami kisses you good-bye and pushes you out the door so fast you could barely make out what just happened.
“Mom stresses out too much,” he sighs, turning around after he shuts the door. “You'll be fine with dad. right?” he looks into yuuji’s eyes, genuinely questioning if he’s already planning an unforgivable act.
suddenly a loud growl that could play as a wolf comes from yuuji’s stomach, “is the little man hungry?". Nanami makes his way to the fridge and attempts to look for something to cook but damn. there’s literally nothing but pre-measured bottles of milk you left for yuuji.
“Guess we ate everything,” Nanami says looking at yuuji who’s also staring at the empty fridge.
“Looks like we got to take a trip to the grocery store”
“Hm. What are we feeling today?”
“Alright spaghetti it is”
Nanami hoists yuuji, hitching him up so yuuji could have a better view of the sauce options. Yuuji points a sticky finger to the fancy garlic parmesan jar, ”pretty bold choice little man”. Nanami puts it in the cart anyway to fulfill his son's 'paketti' desires knowing that there's a huge possibility it will end up on the floor.
By the time they reached the checkout nanami was a living jungle gym. In one grocery trip Yuuji managed to lose one sock and retrieved nanamis glasses.
“How are you today!’ the cashier says joyfully.
“Functional.” he says worn out, getting out his card as the cashier rings up the ingredients and a toy car yuuji sneaks into the cart.
After he pays, he begins to bag up the groceries lazily throwing them into the bag as yuuji bites nanami's cheek. Nanami, unfazed by the gummy bite, grabs all the bags in one hand as he carries yuuji in the other.
Nanami slots yuuji in his high chair, his feet kicking in excitement as he plays with his new toy car. The rhythmic thump-thump of the garlic and parmesan jar blends in with yuuji’s small vroom vroom. Nanami pauses as he looks at Yuuji playing with his toy car joyfully. That alone gives nanami a sense of peace and success despite everything that pink headed menace has done.
Nanami stays concentrated as he makes the pasta, even keeping a little list of instructions so he doesn't miss anything.
cook pasta in salted water ☒
mix pasta and ground beef in the sauce ☒
Nanami was very proud of himself once he finished up. He didn't call for your for help. followed the instructions to a tee. Every step went smoothly. There's no way this wouldn't be good.
He plated yuuji’s pasta and set it on his little table connected to his high chair and put on yuuji’s bib. He set his plate of spaghetti down on the table. Yuuji took a bite. Nanami took a bite. A long silence ran through the dinner table.
a/n: i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this
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