“Well, I’ve been cuddling Makki and Mattsun’s little baby for a while now.” He lightly rocked the boy, gave Hajime an expectant, cheeky grin. “Maybe my big baby Iwa-chan wants a little affection too?”

“Psh. Get real.”

“No, seriously,” Tooru said, dropping the act and studying him in earnest, “is something the matter? You’ve been really quiet and staring at—well, anything but me since we got here. Are you jealous? Do you want to hold him too?”

The extraordinary sensation had been plaguing him since they got here, indeed, but Hajime considered it more ‘longing’ than it was ‘jealousy’. Takahiro and Issei were still perpetually ten-year olds but still an old married couple, certainly getting old now that they were going to have an actual ten-year old in their family some years into the future. They looked so happy and seemed to fit so well together, all three of them, that Hajime couldn’t help his imagination running wild, forming images in which life was the same for him—for him and for the man that he yearned to become the same kind of sappy, overjoyed, old married couple with.

Maybe it was jealousy after all.

“Okay, fine, I’m jealous,” he admitted, held a hand up when Tooru moved to pass the sleeping boy onto him, “but not of you, or the baby.”

“Then who?”

Hajime exhaled through his nose. “The…proud parents.”

Tooru’s contemplative expression froze on his face well enough for Hajime to watch it slowly change, melt amidst a sea of light pink skin and into one of wide eyes and teeth sinking into lips and rapid blinks. He swallowed, turned away, but even at an angle Hajime could see the unrealistic curl of his mouth, desperate not to form a smile, and the slight tremble of his fingers equally desperate not to suddenly drop the fragile life he had in his hands.

“Huh,” he said, voice shaking in the same way it did whenever there was a surprise he didn’t want to spoil, and laughed, “and here I thought you’ve had enough of me crying and waking you up at night.”

“Sometimes,” Hajime said, after his own short laugh. “But you’re not quite the right size.” 

This time, Tooru allowed his smile to reach his slightly-teary eyes, directed both of them at Hajime. “Are you serious?” he whispered, like he couldn’t afford to speak any louder.

“When am I ever not about you?”

Tooru squeezed his eyes shut, the wrinkling of his nose pulling at Hajime’s own smile, and took one deep and controlled breath. “We need to find Makki and Mattsun and give them their baby back.”

“Hm? Why?”

“So that I can hug you—” Tooru hurled himself in Hajime’s direction, stopped himself from crashing just in time to plant a quick kiss on his husband’s cheek “—and we can talk about our own.”