#tylrhoechlns

They’d come a long way from thinking about it to actually putting some serious effort into making it happen and then even traveling to the small orphanage in China to pick their baby girl up.

They named her Hope and it was not only a beautiful name but an appropriate one too. She had a Chinese name as well, one neither Adam or Blake could pronounce correctly just yet, but they were sure they’d have time to learn and if they never quite managed it, then Hope was going to be their teacher when she was older and decided to embrace her roots.

This was their first week with her and it was proving to be taxing but they were expecting it to be exactly that and were prepared and still thrilled about having a daughter they could raise together.

Adam didn’t remember sleeping at all in the last couple of days, nothing besides a quick half an hour catnap somewhere around noon, and trying to lie down beside Blake had proven impractical as soon as their daughter started crying and Adam tried soothing her with songs and rocking her in his arms for at least forty minutes because the doctor had been very adamant in how they weren’t supposed to feed her every hour or every time she cried either, that at the very worst they’d have to let her cry but Adam hadn’t managed to develop the ability to stay still while she might need him yet and doubted he was ever going to.

She was two months old and had the most lovely face, her nose tiny and her eyes lively, and had quite the set of lungs too, still refusing to adopt the time zone in the States and waking them both at odd hours even when it was supposed to be the short four-hours night little babies of her age could sleep without waking up.

He spilled some baby formula on the back of his hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and began feeding her, smiling tiredly when she clasped her tiny hands around his fingers holding the bottle and leaned down to peck her forehead.

He felt a warm kiss on his brow and smiled a little more, looking up at the disheveled glory that was Blake at two and a half in the morning.

He looked back at her, remembering everything he’d read about maintaining eye contact and caressing the baby while feeding. She made a soft, happy gurgling sound and kept on sucking once he caught her eyes.

“Aww, look at that,” Blake cooed, crunching in front of the rocker and brushing careful, reverent fingertips on Hope’s chubby cheeks which resulted in another joyful little sound, “She adopted you as her mama already.” Adam rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling, detecting the fond tone beneath Blake’s quiet teasing, “Dumbass. When I begin growing teats I’ll let you know and you can start calling me mama, until then keep it to your alone time with your right hand.” Blake grinned, his hand sneaky but gentle as it searched his to entwine their fingers together beneath Hope’s little body. “But I don’t have much of that, you’re somehow always there. I wonder why that is?” Adam yawned, eyelids drooping but tongue still sharp enough to retort something. “Someone has to make sure you still know how to do it, granpa, it gets kinda hard at your age.” “Jackass.” “You love me.” “I do,” Blake agreed, stretching to press a kiss to his temple and staying close to brush his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth tenderly, “You’re the prettiest mom ever, I’m so damn lucky.” Adam breathed out a weak, weary laugh. “You’re damn right you are because I love you too and I’ll let that slide, dipshit.”

They realized at the same time they’d been cursing back and forth for a while and winced.

“So when do you think we should, huh, start behaving more like suitable parents?” Blake asked, quiet and contrite. “And less like a couple of idiots who have no idea what they’re doing?” Adam snorted, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively before shushing Hope that began complaining when she was full and delicately putting her against his chest to pat her back as gently as he could to make her burp, “I’d say—let me think—huh, yeah, never.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Blake chuckled, and waited until Hope burped three times and seemed to be done before taking her from Adam’s arms, gently wiping her chin with a soft cloth, “Go to bed, I’ll tuck her in. And next time is my turn, you hear? You need to get some rest.” “Arms—“ “Outside of the blanket, yes, honey, I know.”

Adam kissed Blake on his right eyebrow and sighed, doing as he was told even when their baby began making these peeved little sounds that were about two seconds from turning into whimpers.

He didn’t even make sure the monitor was on, tried to be a little less of a control freak and a little more a good parent who shared duties with his partner.

He stayed for at least five minutes outside the door, not to make sure Blake was doing a good job, just to hear him singing a lullaby to her, feeling like his heart had just grown four sizes and had to forcibly removed himself from there to go lie down in bed, waiting for Blake as he fought against sleep.

The monitor was on and he kept hearing Blake’s quiet voice, smiling when he noticed Blake was sticking to his falsetto since they’d both read somewhere—and it proved right quite fast once they began taking care of Hope—that babies didn’t like deep voices that much, not at first.

He was damn lucky, too.