Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dazai-san!” The door to the Armed Detective Agency bounced off the wall, the knob leaving yet another impact mark in the drywall. Atsushi was less concerned with the potential damage today; he carried a dark bundle in his arms that he thrust immediately in the direction of Dazai’s desk. “I need you to nullify this ability right away!”

He was out of breath, chest heaving with exertion, and it was clear that he had been running for quite some time. Dazai blinked at him, and his attention shifted to the moving bundle, now revealed to be an infant hanging unconcerned from Atsushi’s hands.

There was a long moment of silence as everyone registered the baby.

“Ah, Atsushi,” Kunikida said, eye level with the infant as Atsushi had come to a stop beside his desk. “Where…where did that baby come from?”

Dazai put everything together almost instantly and immediately burst into a gale of laughter. He pounded on his desk with one hand as Kunikida looked at him, looked back to the dark-haired, dark-eyed baby, and then looked at Atsushi. “Wait, is that--?”

“Yes, it’s Akutagawa,” Atsushi said, practically shoving the baby at Dazai. “Fix him!”

The baby Akutagawa’s nose scrunched up at being pushed close to Dazai, and Dazai’s laughter only grew in volume. This attracted the attention of the others in the office, mostly in the meeting room, and they filed out to see what exactly was going on.

Baby Akutagawa’s face began to darken, and Atsushi groaned and pulled the baby back to his chest before another tantrum could erupt. “Dazai-san, please stop laughing like that, I need you to nullify this ability. He can still stab people like this!”

As if on cue, a tiny Rashomon head emerged from the black romper the infant Akutagawa was wearing, darting out and attempting to take a bite out of Dazai. Atsushi gave him a look when Dazai flicked the Rashomon head, nullifying Akutagawa’s ability and still grinning broadly. “Alright, alright,” Dazai said, finally standing. “Give him here, I’ll fix this.”

Atsushi handed the baby to Dazai and immediately took a large step back. Baby Akutagawa glared up at Dazai, brow furrowed. Dazai stared down at the baby, a perplexed expression settling on his face, and then he held the baby out in both hands, facing him. “Huh,” he said, and brought the baby Akutagawa in close again, squinting into his face.

“Uh,” Atsushi said. “Nothing’s happening.”

“No,” Dazai said, cross, “it’s not.”

“Why is nothing happening? He’s still a baby!”

Kunikida stood as well. “Are you certain this is Akutagawa?”

“Did you not just see him use Rashomon, Kunikida-san?” Ranpo chimed in from his desk in front of the window. He popped a potato chip into his mouth, clearly enjoying this after-lunch show.

“Who let Dazai-san hold a baby?” Yosano asked, closing the door to her operating room behind her. “What on earth is going on out here?”

“It’s not a baby, it’s Akutagawa-kun,” Dazai hummed, still holding the baby far too close to his face; as if he could will the ability’s dissolution if he just stared hard enough. “It looks like him and has his ability, at least. Atsushi-kun, are you sure Akutagawa-kun doesn’t have any bastard children—"

Baby Akutagawa burbled angrily and promptly spit up directly into Dazai’s face.

“Okay,” Kunikida said, leaning back against his desk, glasses pushed up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “One more time, for me.”

Atsushi stood with folded arms, distracted because Yosano was trying to feed the baby with a bottle. Baby Akutagawa was having none of it, fussing angrily, little Rashomon heads and tendrils waving as he sat against Yosano’s chest, face turned away. “We were fighting, as usual, down by the docks,” Atsushi said, and hung his head and sighed. “I didn’t mean for us to be fighting, but you know how he likes to ambush me out of nowhere when I’m just trying to do my job.”

Baby Akutagawa began to wail mid-sentence, smacking the bottle away. Atsushi winced at the interruption. When Yosano had little success quelling the rising tantrum he turned and held his arms out to take the baby. “Atsushi-kun, I can handle this,” Yosano said gently, but a Rashomon tendril snaked out and snagged Atsushi’s wrist, cutting into his skin. Baby Akutagawa snuffled angrily; cheeks red as he built up a full head of steam.

“He’s about to get stabby again,” Atsushi said. “I can deal with that. Here.” After exchanging a look with Kunikida, Yosano surrendered the baby back to Atsushi, and baby Akutagawa stopped fussing the moment he was in Atsushi’s arms again. Yosano handed him the bottle as well, and Akutagawa took it without complaint, raising her eyebrow.

“You’re good with babies,” she said, clearly surprised, and Atsushi gave a small, one-shouldered shrug, focused more on feeding Akutagawa.

“They would let me help with the babies sometimes, at the orphanage.” He looked up at her as she stood by his shoulder and supervised, while baby Akutagawa clung to the bottle he was holding with both hands, eyes half-closed and eating greedily.

“So, you and Akutagawa were in a fight,” Kunikida said, prompting further, and Atsushi looked up from watching Akutagawa take his bottle.

“Something happened, there was some kind of weird explosion.” Atsushi looked down at the baby in his arms. “There was a split-second, and Akutagawa shoved me away, I think—I hit the concrete divider pretty hard, it knocked the wind out of me. When I was able to get my wits about me, well…” he gestured with his head. “I found him like this, sitting crying at the edge of the crater.”

“It does sound like they got hit with an ability,” Yosano said. “But Dazai wasn’t able to nullify it?”

“Because he’s not under the effect of an ability,” Dazai, with a freshly washed face and a newly discovered dislike of infants, stood on the other side of Kunikida. “That actually is Akutagawa as a baby.”

“How is that even possible? Atsushi asked, and Dazai shrugged, folding his arms.

“Perhaps it was an ability that brought him here, then,” Kunikida said. “So, he’s not, himself, under the ability and there’s nothing for Dazai to negate. We’ll have to find the ability user to fix whatever caused this.”

“A time displacement ability of some kind?”

“Something like that,” Kunikida looked thoughtful.

“What do we do in the meantime?” Yosano asked. “You can’t possibly mean to turn a baby over to the Port Mafia, Kunikida-san.”

Kunikida had wisely not yet opened his mouth. “Well, he can’t stay here. Yosano, can you—”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll look after him,” Atsushi said, and everyone looked at him. Atsushi seemed surprised at the reaction. “I’ve got a little experience with babies,” he said defensively, “and if he decides to stab things with Rashomon I’m the one best equipped to deal with it. Besides,” he took the bottle from an increasingly drowsy baby. “He doesn’t scream when I’m holding him.”

He missed the significant look that Kunikida and Yosano exchanged when he said that. “What do you think, Dazai?” Kunikida asked. “You’ve been uncharacteristically silent.”

Dazai was silent because he had been distracted by his phone. He was holding it close to his face, one hand over his mouth and turning pink with clearly repressed laughter. “Dazai-san?” Atsushi asked.

“Oh,” Dazai said after a long exhale, glee evident in his voice. “You’re not going to believe this.”

Nakahara Chuuya, Port Mafia executive, held a screaming baby in a white tiger romper in one arm and his cellphone as far away from danger as he could, the picture wobbling. “I have something of yours,” he said, clearly irritated and, not unlike Dazai, was covered in spit-up. He could barely be heard over the distressed wailing. “Come get it.”

Dazai, grinning the largest, shit-eating grin he’d worn all day, said, “my darling slug, what have you got there?”

“Dazai, I will crush your head into the size of a melon ball if you don’t take this fucking—”

“LANGUAGE,” Higuchi’s voice hissed from off-camera, and the cell phone’s field of vision shifted as Chuuya did, catching her just out of frame looking mortified at having corrected her boss’s boss.

“Don’t call me darling,” Chuuya growled, turning back to the camera.

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi said, leaning over to look at the phone screen, baby Akutagawa napping against his shoulder, “who is that?”

“Eh?” Chuuya brought the phone in closer to his face, which unfortunately also brought the microphone closer to the cacophony. “Atsushi? If you’re there, then…” the camera moved even closer. “Do you have a baby?”

“It’s Akutagawa,” Dazai informed Chuuya gleefully.

The camera pulled back quickly as an enormous Rashomon head appeared, hanging over Chuuya’s shoulder; and the baby in the white tiger romper stopped screaming, lifting his arms toward the head excitedly.

“No,” Chuuya said carefully, turning the camera to reveal Akutagawa standing some distance away, arms folded and attempting to look disinterested but mostly harassed. “That is Akutagawa.”

“Oh,” Dazai said as Chuuya handed off the baby Atsushi to Higuchi, and they could all hear the baby Atsushi immediately start to wail again at being removed from the proximity of the enormous Rashomon head, “this is a delight.”

Atsushi frowned as Dazai let himself into the apartment. He’d followed Dazai as instructed, because keeping the baby in the office all day was only going to lead to headaches, and as baby Akutagawa napped against his shoulder, they headed in the opposite direction of the ADA dorms. “Dazai-san, do you live here?” Atsushi asked, perplexed because Dazai had a key and he had been to the wasteland that was Dazai’s dormitory room on the ground floor before. “I thought you lived in the dorms with us.”

“Oh, I do,” Dazai hummed. There were already two sets of shoes in the genkan, and Atsushi sensed a trap.

“Then why do you have a key?”

“Chu~uya,” Dazai sang, already out of his shoes and vanished around the corner into the apartment proper. Atsushi sighed, trying to heel out of his shoes while balancing a baby and failing. He carefully set baby Akutagawa on the step up into the apartment, and he looked up at Atsushi with sleepy dark eyes, fist pressed against his mouth, and tendrils of his ability reaching out toward Atsushi like octopus tentacles.

“I’m just taking off my shoes,” Atsushi told him, distracted—and that’s when Rashomon struck, hooking him by the back of his suspenders and lifting him off the floor.

Atsushi let out a surprised yelp, as he didn’t think that the baby Rashomon was that strong, but when he looked up it was a full-sized Rashomon head that had him by the scruff. “Put me down,” Atsushi groaned as Akutagawa revealed himself, peeling out of the shadows at the end of the corridor. Baby Akutagawa, on the floor, looked up at Atsushi with clear concern. “Akutagawa—”

Baby Akutagawa’s eyes filled instantly, and Atsushi realized too late it was his tone that set off the baby. Atsushi hung his head as Rashomon gave him a good shake. “Hey!” Atsushi kicked his feet. “Look what you did!”

“I did nothing,” Akutagawa’s voice dripped impatience. Baby Akutagawa’s head whipped around at the voice and, while still wailing, immediately put his arms out to be picked up.

The two Akutagawas stared at each other, the baby waving his arms in the air; and, after a moment, an additional Rashomon tendril snaked out, picking the baby up by the back of his romper and avoiding touching him directly. “Your presence is required,” he reported before turning and bringing both Atsushi and the baby.

“I was just taking off my shoes,” Atsushi complained when Rashomon deposited him in the center of the room. He glanced around the small living space, a couch, two chairs, a small table, and Dazai, hands on the back of the chair Chuuya was holding court in, and Chuuya looked about as harassed as Atsushi felt in the moment.

On the floor between them, in the middle of a large pile of blocks, sat a baby in a white tiger romper attempting to fit an entire square block into his mouth. Atsushi’s stomach did a weird flip, and the baby leaned all the way back to look up at him, which resulted in tipping completely backward and dropping the block he was holding onto his face.

Immediately, the baby Atsushi began to cry.

“Oh good,” Chuuya said dryly. “Now they’re both crying.”

Atsushi snatched the dangling, crying baby Akutagawa from Rashomon, and the baby Akutagawa trailed off, sniffling against his shirt. “You can’t treat babies like that,” he growled at Akutagawa, who was unimpressed by Atsushi’s reaction.

“You seem to like it just fine,” he said, and Atsushi’s face flushed angrily.

“I do not.”

“Not you.” Rashomon darted from his black coat and caught the back of the tiger romper, hoisting Atsushi’s baby self into the air. Baby Atsushi flung his arms out toward Akutagawa, tantrum already forgotten, and started saying “ba!” with increasing volume. Akutagawa’s nose scrunched.

Atsushi turned to look at Dazai, who wore an expression that could only be described as “sparkling”. “I’m afraid to ask what the plan even is,” he said, and Dazai beamed at him. “You’re going to make us watch these babies together, aren’t you?” He shifted the baby against his shoulder to free one hand, which he immediately pointed at Akutagawa. “Do not make me co-parent with him.”

“I am no one’s parent.”

“Dazai-san, you can’t be serious. No one in their right mind is going to allow him to supervise children.”

“I agree. The weretiger is best suited to childrearing.”

Atsushi paused. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Akutagawa said, pointedly enunciating his words as he would for a small child, “that you make a better housewife than detective.”

Chuuya rested his fist against his cheek, elbow on the armrest. “They’re going to fight while holding the babies,” he said, as Akutagawa took a large step backward, Atsushi’s transformed paw swiping through the space where he was just standing. “And there they go.”

Dazai put his elbows on the flat back of the chair, chin in both hands and grinning still, though they both winced when a framed picture crashed to the floor, knocked free by Rashomon as Akutagawa avoided Atsushi’s strikes. When the glass shattered, both babies—who hadn’t seemed perturbed in the slightest by the violence—began crying in unison.

The Rashomon head that still held baby Atsushi from its jaws shook the dangling infant once. “Stop that—” he started, but Atsushi’s tiger paw slammed directly into his face. Atsushi moved to catch his baby self when Rashomon reflexively dropped him, and he crouched, a baby against each shoulder and protected by his transformed tiger arms.

“Do not fucking shake them!”

“Language,” Dazai said mildly, his hand on Chuuya’s shoulder and keeping him seated, before he could interfere.

Akutagawa stared at Atsushi, an enormous red mark on his face and ass firmly on the floor. Atsushi hadn’t drawn blood with his claws—the move had been to stun, not injure—and Akutagawa covered his cheek and looked away. “I did not intend…” he trailed off and went silent. “I apologize. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No. You weren’t.” Atsushi said, still glaring at Akutagawa as he rose from his own crouch. “You can’t treat the babies like you treat me, regardless of how sturdy they are.”

Chuuya seemed impressed, settling back in his seat and folding his arms. “Did I just hear Akutagawa apologize?”

“See,” Dazai said. “It is an excellent plan.”

“It is not an excellent plan,” Atsushi said, now holding two babies and uncertain how to put one down without disrupting the other. Akutagawa got slowly to his feet, dusted himself off, and, silently, held out his hands. Atsushi gave him a look of sheer disbelief. “If you think I’m handing you baby me after you were going to shake him—”

“Then give me the other one,” Akutagawa said. “You cannot keep holding both.”

Atsushi was very clearly bouncing a refusal around his skull like a screensaver but finally relented. “No more using Rashomon to carry them,” he said instead, and Akutagawa stared at him silently, hands still out.

Atsushi shifted so that baby Akutagawa was pointed in his direction. The baby version of Akutagawa gave his older self a look of distrust, looked back to Atsushi again for confirmation, and finally went to Akutagawa with minimal fuss.

“Where are we going to keep them?” Atsushi asked, shifting his baby self to his hip naturally. “The dorms are too small, and we don’t have anything we need to watch one baby, never mind two…” he glanced over at Akutagawa, who was holding his baby self so that they could engage in an intense, silent, staring contest and were no longer paying attention to the proceedings around them. Atsushi sighed.

“You’ll be staying here, of course,” Dazai said, patting the back of the chair before grandly gesturing around the un-baby-proofed apartment.

“Of course,” Atsushi said, somehow repressing the urge to sigh again. “And what is this place, exactly? Why do you have a key?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Dazai-san.”

“It’s all been taken care of,” Chuuya said. “I’ve placed orders for everything you might need to arrive over the next day or so.” He hiked his thumb at Dazai. “Between this bandage-wasting idiot and your genius super-detective, someone will figure out where these babies came from and how we can get them back to wherever they belong. In the meantime, it’s wisest to keep two ability-laden babies off the street and safe from discovery.”

“So that’s that,” Atsushi said. “We stay put here?”

“On babysitting duty,” Akutagawa muttered, not quite under his breath. Atsushi gave him a sour look, but Akutagawa didn’t deign to meet his eye.

“Pretty simple,” Dazai said. “Stay here, keep the babies alive, don’t kill each other.”

“No promises on that last one,” Atsushi said, and baby Atsushi said, enthusiastically, “ba!”

Atsushi watched the door close behind Chuuya, his own baby self still on his hip. The baby Atsushi watched the door close just as intently and looked up at Atsushi, still focused. “Well,” Atsushi said realistically, “I guess things could be worse. Somehow.”

“Ba,” baby Atsushi agreed, pulling on Atsushi’s suspender.

Akutagawa was seated on the floor, back against the couch and arms folded. Baby Akutagawa stood beside him, hands gripping the couch and tiny Rashomon tendrils stabbed into the cushion for additional balance. “Is that how you learned to walk, with Rashomon?” Atsushi asked, setting baby Atsushi back with the blocks, which he immediately picked up and started smacking noisily together.

Akutagawa, eyes still closed, said, “don’t be foolish. Do you recall learning to walk?”

“Don’t be a dick. I’ll be right back, watch them.”

Atsushi didn’t wait for Akutagawa to object, walking around the half-wall bar and into the small kitchen. The sink sat just inside the wall, so he could look out into the main part of the room from there, and he opened the fridge—fully stocked. “Nakahara-san wasn’t lying,” Atsushi murmured to himself as he checked the rest of the apartment. Two small bedrooms, one with two cribs separated by a changing table, the other with a single enormous bed that dominated the room.

Atsushi groaned, leaning his shoulder into the doorframe of the bedroom. “There’s only one bed,” he called back, over his shoulder.

“Of course,” Akutagawa sounded unsurprised. “This is one of the apartments that they use to hide away and have sex.”

Atsushi shuddered and returned to the main room. “You can have the bed,” he said, trying hard not to think about the activities that had undoubtedly been perpetrated on that mattress. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Suit yourself.”

Atsushi snorted as if there had been any other option. Trying to imagine Akutagawa taking the couch while he was in a large, comfortable bed…yeah, that wasn’t happening.

“This is not so difficult,” Akutagawa said casually, watching baby Akutagawa toddle from the sofa to the chair where Atsushi seated himself, arms outstretched. Before he made it all the way across to Atsushi, though, he was struck by a block winged by baby Atsushi and fell over.

Baby Atsushi laughed and smacked more blocks together.

Atsushi gave Akutagawa a look as baby Akutagawa began to cry, lying on his face, tiny Rashomon tendrils waving in distress. “You had to say it.”

He picked up the baby and patted his bottom, and then made a face as he discovered a new source of those tears. “Oh, is that why you’re so upset?” Atsushi said, bouncing Akutagawa against his side and stepping over the blocks. “Let’s go get you changed.”

By the time he stepped out of the babies’ room, Akutagawa had relocated to properly sitting on the couch, reading from a sheaf of papers he got from…somewhere. He’d since changed out of his traditional long black coat, hanging it in the entrance hallway, a tacit acknowledgment that he wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

“Dazai-san and Nakahara-san only purchased enough diapers for…possibly tomorrow,” Atsushi reported, and Akutagawa looked up.

“How many diapers could they possibly need?”

Atsushi gave him a flat look. “Have you ever even changed a diaper before, Akutagawa?”

Akutagawa returned the look in kind, and Atsushi rolled his eyes, jogging the baby against his hip. “Ryuu-chan, your big brother is useless,” he told the baby and grinned when he saw Akutagawa’s expression darken.

“What did you just call the child?”

“Ryuu-chan,” Atsushi said. Ryuu-chan held onto his shirt, giving Atsushi a tiny, intense look, and he smiled fondly at the baby in return before returning his gaze to Akutagawa. “I can’t call you both Akutagawa.”

“You most certainly can.”

“Well, I won’t.” He shifted his weight. “We can call the baby me something else too if you want. Make it even.”

“Werekitten.”

Atsushi rolled his eyes and looked toward the now-abandoned pile of blocks in the center of the floor, realizing for the first time that the baby was nowhere to be seen. “Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa raised his hand, palm up, showcasing a white Rashomon tentacle that trailed from his shirt. “I am not so oblivious as to let a small child wander off unattended,” he said shortly. “I put a leash on him, as he deserves.”

Behind him, the bookcase wobbled.

“He’s... climbing the bookcase,” Atsushi said.

Akutagawa stared at him as if he didn’t quite believe Atsushi, and then slowly turned around. Baby Atsushi had made it to the third shelf from the floor and was staring intently at his target, a metal bookend on the top shelf that had caught the sunlight. Wrapped loosely around his chest and waist was a harness made of white Rashomon tentacles.

“To my defense,” Akutagawa said, as Atsushi gently tossed Ryuu-chan into his arms and went to rescue the other baby before he could fall, “you have always had a death wish.”

“No, I don’t. You trying to kill me constantly does not equate to a death wish.” Atsushi turned, now holding a disgruntled baby Atsushi against his chest. “We have to go buy diapers.”

“What do you mean, we?”

“I left you alone with one baby for ten minutes and he made it halfway up a bookcase. I’m not leaving you alone with them both. We’ll go together and take the babies.”

“Absolutely not.” Akutagawa sat forward. “We shall order some and have them delivered, I will not be seen parading around with you and,” he looked at baby Atsushi, comfortable in Atsushi’s arms, “those children.”

He pulled out his cell phone and immediately small Rashomon tentacles gently enveloped his wrist, startling him. Akutagawa lifted the arm holding the phone, and Ryuu-chan lifted slightly into the air, eyes fixated only on the phone. “You cannot have that,” he informed the baby tersely.

Atsushi grinned and patted baby Atsushi’s bottom. “His diaper is full too. You’re up, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa stared at him.

“I’ll show you how to change a diaper, I refuse to be the only one who does it. You’re not getting out of this.”

“I know how to change a diaper, fool,” Akutagawa hissed and stood.

It turned out baby Atsushi Did Not Appreciate diapers, changing tables, or any of Akutagawa’s efforts to corral him. He was still throwing a tantrum while Atsushi made a simple and easy dinner and managed, somehow, to keep a straight face while listening to Akutagawa bargain with the baby in the other room.

“Language,” he called, at least once.

“You are an insufferable child,” Akutagawa yelled back, followed, a second later, by a defiant “ba BA BA!”

Chapter Text

Akutagawa’s eyes snapped open, adjusting quickly to the darkness. The bedroom was silent, save the ticking of an analog clock on the wall, and as he lay there listening to the clock, he heard a solid-sounding thump from through the wall and in the silence following that, soft crying. Ah.

He stared into the darkness without moving for a while, hoping that the soft crying would end on its own, but instead, it slowly rose in volume. Rashomon could reach into the main room from here, he could shake the weretiger awake and let him deal with the infants he was so inordinately fond of.

Before his ability could ripple through to the top sheet, his attentive ears heard the creak of the couch as the weretiger got up and padded into the babies’ room. “Hai, hai,” he could hear him through the wall, muffled and sleepy, and Akutagawa released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, the tension in his shoulders loosening. “What’s the matter, Ryuu-chan, you’re old enough to sleep through the night. Dirty nappy?”

Atsushi’s voice grew softer, and even through the thin walls, he could no longer pick out exactly what he was saying, just the gentle tone of his words. He found his eyelids drooping as he heard the weretiger start to hum and could imagine him walking the baby around the room, rocking him with the rhythm of his stride.

Suddenly he was aware of footsteps moving from the babies’ room to just outside his and cursed himself for leaving the door ajar. He froze, awake again, his back to the door. The floor creaked just outside his door, the weretiger lingering for a moment, and heard him sigh and then shut the door, the latch clicking firmly.

What was that about?

With the door now closed, he could no longer hear either child fussing…but he also couldn’t hear the soft lullaby that the weretiger had been humming. Akutagawa stared into the darkness, perplexed by why this bothered him, and after a while, he too drifted back off to sleep.

Atsushi was wearing a baggy, soft-looking sweatshirt instead of his typical work button-down and was frying some eggs on the stove when Akutagawa finally emerged for the morning. Atsushi glanced at him, eyes flickering over his appearance, dressed as usual for work, before turning back to his eggs.

“Good morning,” Atsushi said shortly. “There’s tea. Don’t expect me to cook for you,” he added, as Akutagawa stopped by the table, where Ryuu-chan was eating rice with his hand, little grains stuck all over his fist. Baby Atsushi was zonked out in his chair, head back and mouth open, snoring slightly.

“I wasn’t incorrect,” Akutagawa said, supervising the children. “You do make an acceptable housewife.”

Atsushi took a step back and pointed his spatula at Akutagawa like a weapon. “Just for that, you get to do the grocery shopping.”

Akutagawa pointed at himself. “I have duties I must attend—”

“Nope.”

Akutagawa’s neutral-to-disinterested expression soured. “You do not dictate my daily responsibilities in—”

“You’re not going anywhere, except to the store,” Atsushi said. “I will call Nakahara-san if you test me.” He transitioned the egg to a plate and turned down the burner. “Also, diapers. We never did order more.”

Akutagawa stood in place, fuming. A small, yellow Rashomon head darted past his wrist, the color of a romper, and wrapped around the sippy cup sitting on the table and lifting it within reach. Akutagawa’s hand jerked back in surprise, and then he watched as Ryuu-chan placed the cup gently on the tray in front of him, before offering Akutagawa a fistful of rice with a solemn look on his face.

He shook his head, but the tiny fist didn’t waver. “I’m not hungry,” Akutagawa informed the baby. Baby Atsushi, highchair arranged opposite Ryuu-chan’s, tilted forward, sleepy face falling directly into his own bowl of rice. After a moment, he began chewing.

Akutagawa looked up to see Atsushi watching him, an amused look on his face. “What?” Akutagawa snapped and folded his arms, looking away. After a moment he exhaled and said, grudgingly, “fine. Do you have a list of required purchases?”

“I’ll make one,” Atsushi said, and carried his own plate with the fried eggs to the table, noticing baby Atsushi. “He’s face-first in the rice again? Akutagawa, why didn’t you move him, he’s going to suffocate.” Atsushi prodded the fat baby tiger into sitting upright, and he squinted open golden eyes at Atsushi before sneezing, rice stuck to his face. “No more rice until you wake up,” Atsushi told the baby as he yawned.

It was, Akutagawa realized with a mild level of distress, cute.

He slipped into the kitchen to fetch his tea and quell this disturbing new revelation.

It was midafternoon when Akutagawa finally returned to the apartment, fully expecting a scolding from Atsushi; he would not admit he ended up having to enlist his sister to help shop for diapers because there were too many options available, and even if he deigned to ask someone for help, for some reason the aisle had completely cleared of customers the moment he stepped into it.

That had nothing to do with the Rashomon head carrying his basket as he shopped, no matter what Gin said.

He did feel slightly better that she was as lost as he, but she’d also brought Higuchi with her, and despite all of his misgivings, he had made it out alive, with diapers, and groceries.

Gin corrected his grocery list three times, and Higuchi appeared to have snuck a six-pack of beer into the bag for some reason.

The weretiger had no need to know that any of this occurred, of course; though when he let himself into the apartment, he was surprised it was quiet. With Rashomon carrying the bags he stepped into the main room, only to find Atsushi sprawled on his back in the center of the floor, one arm stretched out, Ryuu-chan sleeping on his stomach and baby Atsushi using his arm as a pillow, back pressed to Atsushi’s side.

Akutagawa stood in silence for a long moment, watching them sleep and not entirely sure what to label the weird feeling rattling around behind his lungs, like a cough he couldn’t shake loose.

The groceries needed to be dealt with, of course, so he passed them, stealing silently across the floor and not disturbing either baby, never mind the weretiger. After securing the perishables, he returned to the main room to lay a blanket gently over Atsushi, making sure not to completely cover Ryuu-chan. It was to keep the babies warm, he rationalized; because the last thing he wanted to deal with was snotty infants.

When Akutagawa stepped into the bathroom and caught his reflection in the mirror, he was surprised to realize he was smiling.

Towel cinched around his waist with one hand, and shrieking with laughter, a naked baby held upside down by the ankle in the other, Akutagawa said, “you lost this.”

“Sorry.” Atsushi wasn’t even looking at him, trying to hold the shampoo hat on Ryuu-chan’s head with one hand and actually shampoo his hair with the other. Even without access to Rashomon, it was a struggle. “I can’t manage them both at once for this, can you just wash him for me, please?”

Akutagawa didn’t entirely hear him, because when Atsushi shifted the towel he was wearing during the struggle unraveled, and was now puddled on the floor. For some reason, this was supremely distracting.

The baby Atsushi in his hand yelled happily and flailed his arms over his head, toward the floor, wriggling around like a naked baby pinata. “Akutagawa,” Atsushi said, and Akutagawa blinked, realized he’d been staring, and his cheeks had the temerity to flush; fortunately for him, Atsushi hadn’t looked up once.

“I can handle that,” Akutagawa grunted and retrieved the sprayer. Baby Atsushi seemed to enjoy being hosed off like a dog on a lawn, and Akutagawa turned him by the ankle, continuing with this method of cleansing until Atsushi finally looked up.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

“Cleaning the baby.” Akutagawa was unconcerned. Baby Atsushi didn’t seem distressed and Ryuu-chan was working himself up into a tantrum, so he got away with it.

Akutagawa sat in the bath and watched Atsushi’s struggles. Baby Atsushi stood holding the edge of the tub, splashing with one hand and laughing, and Akutagawa found himself smiling again. “Dinner and a show tonight, eh, weretiger?” he called, watching the shampoo hat go flying, and baby Atsushi started blowing bubbles in the water.

Two babies put down in two separate cribs, and Atsushi gently closed the door behind him before leaning his back against it and yawning hugely. To his surprise, the main room was empty, which was just as well, he was exhausted and didn’t even have it in him to go fetch his blankets and rack out. He collapsed onto the couch and leaned his head back, eyes closed.

His nose twitched.

He opened one eye, and then the other, staring up at Akutagawa standing before him, holding a tray with a bowl and a steaming cup of tea. “Akutagawa?” Atsushi asked, baffled, as Akutagawa nudged some of the blocks sitting on the table with the tray before setting it down. “What is this?”

“Don’t pretend I didn’t notice you not eating dinner,” Akutagawa said.

“Ah, I just haven’t had the time, between preparing the food, feeding them, and cleaning up.” He inclined his head and yawned again, and Akutagawa folded his arms, regarding Atsushi severely. “It’s fine.”

“You eat like three starving hyenas when left to your own devices,” Akutagawa said. “I can’t have you passing out from lack of nutrition now.” He looked away, as Atsushi picked up the tea with an amused expression. “I cannot handle one infant, never mind two, on my own.”

“If you say, ‘this role suits me’ you’re going to end up wearing this bowl of rice,” Atsushi said, before taking a sip of the tea and sighing, already feeling better.

Akutagawa did not immediately respond, and when Atsushi looked up at him, he was watching Atsushi with a peculiar expression on his face. Caught out, a slight, angry flush rose to his cheeks and he looked away again, before turning and wordlessly returning to the kitchen, presumably to clean up whatever mess he’d made. Atsushi watched him go, and then glanced down at the simple meal he’d prepared and swallowed around the strange feeling in his throat as he picked up the bowl of rice and chopsticks.

Akutagawa didn’t actually care about Atsushi, ensuring his health was intact was within his mission parameters. That was all there was to this. Just a mission.

That’s all.

Atsushi fell asleep sitting up, arms folded and chin tucked to his chest, the chopsticks laid across the empty bowl on the tray. Akutagawa picked up the tray and tried not to stare at the soft rise and fall of Atsushi’s chest, refused to think about him at all while he washed the dishes, did not acknowledge the blanket he draped over Atsushi, and definitely did not open the door to the babies’ room, looking into both cribs and watching both sleep for a moment.

He also, definitely, did not close the door to his room behind him, press his back to it, and slid down, putting his hands in his hair and wondering what, the fuck, was happening to him.

A few days passed, largely uneventful. Baby Atsushi puked up his entire dinner into Akutagawa’s hair, which Atsushi was certain was going to cause something, but Akutagawa handed off the baby to be cleaned up and locked himself in the bathroom for two hours and didn’t even yell.

It was at the same time nice, and largely disconcerting.

A baby carrier arrived in the mail and that made Atsushi’s life simpler. His baby self was an enormous terror, as he liked to climb and could develop claws for more traction—but he was content to ride around on Atsushi’s back as he cleaned, occasionally pulling on Atsushi’s shirt for attention. Ryuu-chan was quite happy to sit on the floor and stack blocks and seemed quite happy to be left alone to build things, which suited Akutagawa just fine as he could sit and read and just be present in case something happened.

Atsushi was washing dishes, both babies in their highchairs and flinging rice at one another and laughing when Akutagawa stepped out of his room wearing his ruffled shirt and cravat. Atsushi looked at him and frowned.

“There is an errand I must attend to,” Akutagawa said. “You may call Nakahara if you insist, but unfortunately this directive came from above him.”

Atsushi eyed him and then returned to washing dishes. “Sure,” he said. “Bring back chicken for dinner, and we need more formula.”

Akutagawa stood there and stared at him, clearly waiting for the objection that did not manifest. Atsushi glanced at him again. “What? Do you need me to write it down for you?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

“Don’t be back late, if you wake them, I won’t forgive you.”

Akutagawa nodded and as he passed, patted baby Atsushi’s head. Atsushi stilled, watching Akutagawa turn the corner and listening to him let himself out of the apartment, before he started scrubbing the pan in his hands harder, blushing furiously and not entirely sure why.

He was able to get baby Atsushi down for his mid-afternoon nap, but Ryuu-chan was fussing so Atsushi carried him around on his hip, humming tunelessly. He really needed to get another load of laundry in and attempt to clean up the devastation in the kitchen, but he didn’t have the arm space for it because if he tried to put Ryuu-chan into the carrier he’d start crying loud enough to wake the other baby, and at least baby Atsushi was napping.

The knock at the door came as a surprise; and a flood of worry. Akutagawa had a key, and even if he didn’t, he would use Rashomon to let himself in.

No one else should know where they were.

Atsushi opened the door cautiously, keeping Ryuu-chan out of the line of fire, but then he opened it all the way, to see Akutagawa’s sister Gin standing there with a smile and holding some bags with both hands. Higuchi-san was hanging around behind her, arms folded and looking very uncomfortable.

Atsushi blinked at them both, shifting Ryuu-chan in his arms. “Gin-san? Higuchi-san? What are you doing here?”

Gin’s eyes alighted on Ryuu-chan, who had his face mostly turned against Atsushi’s shoulder and was halfway to asleep, feeling secure. “Is that oniisan?” she asked, voice quiet but excited, and that was all the answer Atsushi needed.

“Yes and no,” Atsushi said, amused, and Higuchi leaned around Gin, staring as well. He opened the door wider, to allow them entry, and said, “quietly, though, he’s almost asleep.”

Ryuu-chan went down, finally, in his crib, holding tight to the tail on his black dragon romper, hood pushed down. Gin and Higuchi crowded around the crib, eyes sparkling. Atsushi left them to make some tea for his guests, and once he had the water on Gin came to help.

“Does everyone know about the babies?” Atsushi asked, amused despite the potential threat, and she shook her head.

“No one does,” she said. “We only know because oniisan asked for help when shopping. Chuuya-san has told everyone he is on an undercover mission attempting to extract information from one of our greatest enemies and is not to be disturbed.” She gave him a small, amused smile and Atsushi hung his head and groaned. “It’s for your safety, though. Both of you are very strong. If anyone knew they could get their hands on infants with the same abilities…”

“They would have to go through me to get to them,” Atsushi said, the edge of a growl in his voice.

“You, and my brother both,” Gin said.

Atsushi didn’t say anything to that.

He served them tea in the main room, and halfway through their conversation there was a thud and a wail from the babies’ room. Atsushi started to get up, but Gin was faster, already through the door and scooping up baby Atsushi into her arms. He’d made it completely out of the crib but had not yet figured out how to land on his feet, and not his face.

“Look at you,” Gin said, bouncing him delightedly, and he stopped crying almost immediately, confused at Gin’s presence. “What an adorable baby tiger you are!”

She looked over at Atsushi and smiled. “If you need to get anything done while we’re here, we can keep them occupied,” she said.

“I couldn’t trouble you to do that,” Atsushi said, and Gin tapped baby Atsushi’s nose, making him laugh.

“It’s no trouble at all, Atsushi-kun,” she said. “We did come to see the babies, after all.”

Atsushi leaned his shoulder against the door and then nodded his head, before going to finally get a load of laundry started.

Akutagawa was not, in fact back late—and even remembered both the chicken AND the formula, never mind picked up more diapers without being asked. Atsushi felt like sparkling as he put some bottles on to feed the babies while Akutagawa visited with his sister and tried to ignore Higuchi. Both babies were now awake, and Gin was holding Ryuu-chan while Higuchi played cars on the floor with baby Atsushi.

It was weird and domestic, and Atsushi got a warm feeling of contentment when he looked in on them…at least until he saw that Higuchi was letting baby Atsushi chew on the grip of her gun.

“HIGUCHI-SAN!”

“It’s not that funny,” Atsushi muttered, handing another dish to Akutagawa to dry. Akutagawa’s shoulders were shaking silently because he refused to actually laugh out loud, which was weird, but whatever. “We got a noise complaint!”

“You got a noise complaint,” Akutagawa managed after a moment, his tone completely normal and neutral.

“Who thinks it’s appropriate to hand a baby a gun?” Atsushi was still completely mortified. Higuchi and Gin were both long gone, Gin pulling a confused Higuchi by the arm and apologizing for her recklessness. “What if it had been loaded?”

“Of course it was loaded.”

Atsushi stared at Akutagawa, who raised a barely-there eyebrow. “Do you think my subordinates would be so ill-trained as to not have their weapons at peak combat readiness?”

“I think your subordinates are a bunch of dumb shits who hand actual children live firearms!”

“I am beginning to sense this may not be the time to bring up the knife Gin gave Ryuu-chan.”

“The. What.”

Atsushi turned in place and stared at Akutagawa, who made it a point to not look directly at him for as long as he could manage. Finally, Akutagawa’s shoulders began to shake again, and Atsushi gaped at him. “Was that—did you just make a joke?”

“If you prefer to think of it that way…”

He spun, sluiced his hand through the water standing in the sink, and flung a handful of it right at Akutagawa, who was not prepared for such an assault and sputtered, shocked.

“Weretiger, how dare—" he didn’t have time to complete the thought before Atsushi splashed him again with the dishwater, but now Atsushi was laughing as well.

“You fucker,” Atsushi managed, and quick as a whip Rashomon snaked past him, grabbed the washcloth he’d left partially submerged, and wrung it out over Atsushi’s head. Atsushi sputtered but kept laughing, grabbing at the washcloth; Rashomon darted away, and Atsushi stumbled against Akutagawa, bumping him into the counter and accidentally pinning him there with his hip.

They both froze, staring at each, far too close.

Atsushi scrambled backward, no longer laughing. “I’ll take the first bath,” he said, dirty water dripping from his hair and talking so fast his words overlapped. “You can finish up here, right? Right. Bath. I’m going to, bath—”

He didn’t bother to wait for Akutagawa’s response and didn’t relax even when the door to the bathroom closed behind him, chest heaving, face flushed.

What the fuck was that?

The baby weretiger woke while Atsushi was in the bath and started complaining loudly and incessantly. Akutagawa fetched him from the crib before he could start an uprising by waking his counterpart, and he settled against Akutagawa’s chest, cheek pressed against him, still making some unhappy noises but no longer at the same volume. Akutagawa lingered in the babies’ room for a moment, rocking gently in place without even thinking about it.

“Fussy,” he murmured, checking the nappy, but then he heard the baby’s tummy rumble and sighed as the fussing increased again. “You eat like your counterpart,” he said, carrying baby Atsushi out of the room with him. “Voraciously.”

By the time Atsushi emerged from the bath, Akutagawa had settled on the couch with the baby and a bottle and was idly watching something on the television. Atsushi stood in the doorway of the bathroom, scrubbing the side of his head with the towel and smiling softly at the scene. Akutagawa was holding the bottle for him even though he didn’t really need the help, and his tiny hands were both on Akutagawa’s; Atsushi saw him look down at the baby with a fond expression on his face he had never seen before, and why did that make it so hard for him to breathe?

Akutagawa looked up at Atsushi, suddenly aware of his presence, and his face returned to its usual neutral to disinterested resting position. “Bath’s free,” Atsushi said unnecessarily and sat carefully on the couch beside Akutagawa, who watched him silently, without objection. “I can take him and finish, if you want your bath.”

“I can handle this,” Akutagawa said, weirdly defensive. Atsushi shrugged but didn’t get up from his spot, eyes turning toward the television, and he yawned, folding his arms and settling in, waiting for when he could pull his blankets out to sleep.

Atsushi didn’t know at what point he closed his eyes, but when he opened them again his head was on Akutagawa’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, either—but Akutagawa didn’t move when Atsushi shifted. The baby Atsushi was curled against Akutagawa’s chest, sleeping soundly as well, a small trickle of drool escaping his mouth; Atsushi smiled sleepily and gently wiped the baby’s mouth with his thumb.

“Awake?” Akutagawa murmured, and caught, Atsushi sat up, rubbing the crick in his neck.

“Sorry,” he said, too tired to be properly embarrassed by the situation. “Here, I’ll put him down for you.”

After a moment of clear indecision, Akutagawa surrendered the baby and Atsushi held his infant self, so warm, against his chest. He pressed a kiss against the top of the baby’s head, and made his way into the bedroom, putting the baby down in his crib. Baby Atsushi didn’t wake once, and Atsushi stared down at him, watching him breathe, lying on his back, little mouth open.

He could hear Akutagawa get up and start rinsing something in the sink—the bottle, most likely—and Atsushi yawned as he closed the door behind him. He still had to get his blankets down, and….

…and Akutagawa was standing right there, waiting for him.

Atsushi stared at him, baffled when Akutagawa gently steered him away from the main room. “Akutagawa,” he said, genuinely confused, as Akutagawa sat him on the edge of the mattress in the bedroom. “I’m sleeping on the couch, remember?”

“I am aware,” Akutagawa stood in the doorway, arms folded. “Go to sleep, weretiger.”

Atsushi wanted to protest, but the mattress felt like a cloud after the stiff couch cushions, and when he flopped over and his head hit the pillow he was out without even burrowing under the blankets.

Chapter Text

The pillow smelled like Akutagawa.

Atsushi’s nose wrinkled, absorbing this information before he fully woke. He squinted his eyes open, surprised that he’d slept long enough for the daylight to start eking in under drawn curtains…but then both of his eyes shot open because, on the other pillow, face turned toward him, slept Akutagawa.

Slept.

Atsushi, eyes wide and breath quickened, stared in stunned silence. He’d never seen Akutagawa looking so vulnerable, face slack in sleep, hands tucked in against his chest like it was a conscious thought to keep them there.

Why had he even bothered to put Atsushi to bed here if he also intended to sleep in the bed himself? Atsushi would have been fine on the couch, just like he had been the past few nights—within hearing distance of the babies, in case one started to cry in the middle of the night. It didn’t make any sense to him at all, why would Akutagawa even want him here?

He searched Akutagawa’s sleeping face for any kind of answer and found none. Atsushi sighed and rejected the pull that was dragging at him to fall back asleep, instead sitting up and scratching his head. The pillow smelled like Akutagawa because Akutagawa was in the bed, it all made sense. And Akutagawa smelled like….

Atsushi leaned over him, hand planted in the pillow just by his shoulder, and inhaled.

Akutagawa’s eyes snapped open.

They stared at each other, startled, for several seconds before the covers came alive around Akutagawa, forming tendrils of Rashomon that shot toward Atsushi. He flung himself away, falling backward off the side of the bed and shoulders slamming into the dresser, snarling at the Rashomon tendrils that impaled themselves into the mattress and the floor just between his legs.

Atsushi rolled to his feet, hands turned into claws even as Akutagawa sat up in bed, clutching the sheet to his chest and covering the lower part of his face with his hand. He glared sleepily at Atsushi from over his hand. “What in the hell—” Atsushi’s voice rose without even thinking about it, and he was cut off from the rest of his complaint by a sudden, muted wail.

After a second of glaring at each other, they both looked toward the wall the room shared with the babies’ room. In that timespan, a second voice joined the first, and the Rashomon tentacles collapsed back into the sheets. Atsushi clenched his hands and glowered at Akutagawa. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed, sotto voce, and Akutagawa closed his eyes as he yawned, not even deigning to answer.

Atsushi refused to think any further about things as he changed dirty diapers. Ryuu-chan had stopped crying when he was picked up, but baby Atsushi was clearly not a fan of not getting all the attention, because he stood in the crib, smacking one hand against the rails and bawling at full volume. “Shh, shh,” Atsushi tried to soothe him as he changed Ryuu-chan and shot a dirty glance at the open door because Akutagawa hadn’t bothered to follow him to help.

Ryuu-chan changed and situated, he adjusted Ryuu-chan in the carrier on his back and started cleaning up baby Atsushi, who was having None of It, tiny paws full of needle-sharp claws and trying to savage Atsushi’s wrist. Delicately pointed ears poked through his silver hair, and Atsushi was more bemused than put out that his tiny baby self was trying so hard to eat his hand.

“So fierce,” he said, attempting to extricate his limb with a small laugh. “Come on, you’ve got a dirty nappy, let’s clean you up, and then you can stalk my tail, okay?”

Baby Atsushi hung upside down from his arm, four paws full of claws secured in his flesh, and when Akutagawa finally came to the door it was to find Atsushi attempting to pry the spikey infant from his limb. “What on earth are you doing?” Akutagawa asked, and Atsushi waved his arm at Akutagawa, baby still attached.

“Do not laugh,” he said, as Akutagawa’s hand clamped over the bottom of his face. “I cannot live with hearing you laugh twice in two days, it’s not right.”

Rashomon rippled off Akutagawa’s shoulders, the tendrils forming a familiar dark dragon’s head with ruby-red eyes. Baby Atsushi’s attention was immediately drawn by the creature, and he released Atsushi’s arm to swipe at it with a single paw as Akutagawa dangled his ability just out of reach.

This gave Atsushi the opening he needed to detach baby Atsushi and, only bleedingly marginally, deposited him back on the changing table.

“Nappy,” he said, hand out, as Rashomon hung over the baby on the changing table, keeping his attention with his ability. With Akutagawa’s assistance, he finally got baby Atsushi’s diaper changed, and before he could pick him up off the table Rashomon looped around him and lifted the baby into Akutagawa’s arms.

Atsushi blinked in surprise as Akutagawa settled baby Atsushi against his hip, the Rashomon head still hovering over his shoulder. Then he smiled, all the larger when Akutagawa noticed his expression and scowled, carrying baby Atsushi out of the room.

“No,” Atsushi said, arms folded and standing threateningly over Dazai. “Absolutely not.”

Akutagawa, having been given dishes duty as he hadn’t helped with breakfast, did not dare lift his head lest the amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth be evident to everyone in the room.

Dazai and Chuuya had made a surprise appearance after lunch, which for some reason Atsushi grew even more prickly at their intrusion; even more so when Dazai announced they were there to take the babies on an unplanned outing.

Dazai was sitting on the floor, Ryuu-chan sitting between his legs and rolling a car around on the floor and in the air, making little brr noises around his binky. Baby Atsushi stood on the couch behind Dazai, hands on the back of it and staring, enraptured, at Chuuya, who was doing his level best to ignore the scrutiny.

“It’s too dangerous to take them outside,” Atsushi said. “What if someone came after them?”

Dazai pointed at Chuuya. “Chuuya would turn them inside out,” he said gleefully, and Chuuya nodded absently, not taking his eyes off baby Atsushi. “Which I, for one, would absolutely love to see.”

Atsushi pushed his hand back through his hair. “Could you not be horny about this in front of the babies, please.”

Dazai put a hand on his chest, affronted at the suggestion, and Chuuya leaned over the back of the couch, smacking Dazai in the back of the head hard enough that Akutagawa heard the impact in the kitchen. After a moment, baby Atsushi followed the trajectory of Chuuya’s hand and attached to the back of Dazai’s head…although Dazai’s nullification ability put a kibosh on claws and fangs. “Ow, ow!”

Atsushi picked up his baby self before Dazai could dislodge him, and Dazai winced, rubbing the back of his head and checking for blood at the same time. “Savage little beast you are, Atsushi-kun.”

Chuuya had his head on his arms, propped on the back of the couch, shoulders shaking visibly and trying to contain his laughter so the babies would not be encouraged to repeat the performance. He lifted his head, wiped his eyes with one hand, and held out the other to Atsushi. “I like this one,” he said when Atsushi handed the baby off to him.

Baby Atsushi wrinkled his nose and looked up at Chuuya, before reaching up and pulling on the tail of hair trailing down his shoulder. Chuuya winced, then laughed again. “Are you sure we can’t keep them?”

Atsushi stared at Chuuya, processing this question, then looked at Dazai. “What does that mean?”

Dazai, still rubbing his hand through his hair, cleared his throat. “We discovered the origin of the babies,” he said finally. Dazai withdrew his hand, rubbing his fingers together, and then looked at the baby Ryuu-chan, banging his metal truck into Dazai’s leg on the floor. “They’re not real.”

“I have an entire bin full of dirty nappies that say otherwise.”

“Not real in the sense that they aren’t, well, permanent.” Chuuya sounded apologetic. He bounced the baby Atsushi and smiled when the baby laughed. “We—well, Dazai’s people—found the ability user.”

Atsushi asked, carefully, “what’s going to happen to them? Are they going to die?”

“No,” Dazai said. He brushed his fingers through Ryuu-chan’s hair. “Obviously the babies themselves are not an ability so I can’t nullify them. As far as I’ve been able to tell the ability pulls aspects of those that are under it and creates temporary child constructs of the affected.”

“You would think constructs would also be negated by your ability,” Chuuya said, and Dazai shrugged.

“Perhaps it’s because they’re living and breathing, and not just illusions.”

Akutagawa entered the room, towel on his shoulder still from doing the dishes. “So, they aren’t really real, and we don’t have to worry about someone making off with them because they have some sort of expiration date.”

Atsushi made a wounded noise at his phrasing, and Dazai nodded. “Something like that.”

“Are they in any danger of disappearing now?”

“Not that I can tell.”

“In that case, please take them outside and get them some sunlight and exercise. They both sorely need it.” Akutagawa dried his hands and made a point of not looking at Atsushi but tilting his head in Atsushi’s direction. “I’ll take care of this.”

Atsushi numbly helped bundle the babies up, though it wasn’t a particularly chilly afternoon. “We’ll be back by dinner,” Chuuya promised him, and Dazai made Ryuu-chan wave his hand, which Ryuu-chan did not appreciate. Atsushi’s mouth quirked in a small smile before the door closed, but it was hollow.

“I’ll get some cleaning done,” he said after a moment of staring into space, picking up one of the cars Ryuu-chan had left on the floor. Akutagawa stopped next to him.

“Sit,” Akutagawa said, pushing him down onto the couch.

Confused, drained, and in no mood to put up a fight, Atsushi sat. He was even more confused when Akutagawa sat beside him on the couch. “What are you—?” he started, but then Akutagawa grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him in, against his chest.

Atsushi froze.

“I don’t want them to go either, weretiger,” Akutagawa said gruffly, and Atsushi’s eyes filled with tears on cue. He pressed the back of his hand against his eyes, cheek against Akutagawa’s shoulder, and cried silently. “We both knew this wasn’t going to last. It isn’t real.”

“It is real,” Atsushi said, sniffling. “It’s real to me.”

Akutagawa’s hand on his shoulder tightened, but then his other hand lifted Atsushi’s chin. Atsushi blinked reddened eyes as Akutagawa tilted his head and kissed him.

The world stopped spinning, for just a moment.

Then Atsushi was kissing him back, hand pulling at Akutagawa’s shirt, twisted uncomfortably but held tight in Akutagawa’s arms. His words were rattling around in Atsushi’s brain, none of this is real, Atsushi reasoned to himself as Akutagawa brushed fresh tears from his eyes and kissed him again, so if it’s not real, I’m allowed this fiction for now.

Right?

Akutagawa stood outside on the small balcony, his back to the closed doors, and wished not for the first time that he’d bothered to take up Chuuya’s smoking habit. It would give him an excuse to remain outside, a buffer, because he’d foolishly, foolishly let his emotions get away from him.

He’d kissed—

No. It didn’t bear thinking about. Akutagawa covered his mouth with his hand, brow furrowed and thinking furiously. This was all a game, he’d already decided that when he’d been boxed into playing along that it wasn’t real, and it was the only way he would allow himself the indignity of playing house with the fucking weretiger and two infants he had absolutely no business being around.

And it wasn’t real. Dazai had said as much. The babies would disappear, and they would return to reality and resume their roles in their respective organizations, and Akutagawa could get back to the long-delayed business of ending the weretiger’s life.

Except.

Except.

The feeling of Atsushi crying into his shirt, heartbroken, and all he wanted to do was make it better and it made him ill to know that he couldn’t.

And that, in and of itself, made him ill because what. The. Fuck was wrong with him.

The sound of the sliding door made his shoulders tighten, and Atsushi stepped out onto the balcony with him. He’d gone to wash his face, and while his eyes were still red-rimmed, they were less puffy now; he caught Akutagawa’s eye and then looked away, blushing heavily. Stupid, stupid, why did he even look at Atsushi…

“Um,” Atsushi said and stopped.

Akutagawa kept his gaze trained on the balcony railing, resolving to admit to his mistake and try to backpedal. Before he could speak, however, Atsushi shifted his weight and said, softly, “thank you.”

That drew his gaze, but Atsushi wasn’t looking at him, staring off into the distance. He touched his fingers to his lips absently. “This isn’t real,” he said, a shaky undertone to the words, “but can we keep playing at this fantasy for just a little longer…? Until…”

He wrapped his arms around himself, still staring at that fixed point in the distance, and the urge grew in Akutagawa’s chest to step closer and wrap his arms around the weretiger, and that was incorrect.

He did it anyway.

Atsushi froze for a second as he had before but then relaxed against Akutagawa. “Until it’s over,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi nodded wordlessly.

Atsushi was chopping vegetables when Dazai and Chuuya returned. They let themselves in, Dazai chattering merrily and holding a pair of white and black balloons, and Chuuya floating both of the babies in the air in front of him like a juggler. Atsushi nearly put the knife through the cutting board, but Akutagawa swooped in, plucking the babies out of the air with Rashomon.

“Ah, they’re fine,” Chuuya said. “I wasn’t going to drop them.” Baby Atsushi had Chuuya’s hat in both hands, chewing on the brim, and Akutagawa gently extricated it and returned the hat to Chuuya. “I’ve been tossing them all afternoon; they love that shit.”

“Chuuya-san,” Atsushi said, and Chuuya shrugged.

“You should have seen what Dazai wanted to do.” Dazai shot Chuuya a betrayed look and then looked over at the knife Atsushi was holding.

Akutagawa took down baby Atsushi from Rashomon to check his diaper. “Are you staying for dinner, Dazai-san?”

Dazai and Chuuya exchanged glances, clearly uncertain of Akutagawa’s tone. “No, we don’t want to intrude,” Dazai said. “Besides, I have dinner reservations for two, and an extravagant hotel room with a hot tub, and the need to take Chuuya’s—”

Chuuya kicked Dazai in the back of the knee, and he staggered forward, nearly falling into the wall.

“Did you need any help changing them?” Atsushi asked Akutagawa, completely ignoring Dazai and Chuuya. The Rashomon head trailing Akutagawa shook its head negatively, and Atsushi resumed chopping vegetables.

Dazai slunk into the kitchen. “Are you okay, Atsushi-kun?”

“Thank you for taking them out today,” Atsushi said evenly. “I’m sure the babies enjoyed the visit with their grandparents.”

Dazai’s face drained of all color. He staggered backward, hand clutching his chest, and then turned in the direction Chuuya had gone, pointing at Atsushi. “DID YOU HEAR THAT?”

Chuuya, who had followed Akutagawa into the room to help change the babies, stuck his head out the door, holding Ryuu-chan. “I think your grandpa is having a hard time with this,” he told Ryuu-chan, who waved a navy-blue Rashomon tentacle at Dazai. Betrayed again, Dazai collapsed dramatically into a chair.

“I never intended to live long enough to hear those words,” he moaned.

Chuuya deposited Ryuu-chan on Dazai’s chest as he passed, and the Rashomon tendrils melted away. Ryuu-chan started putting his fat baby hands on Dazai’s face, studying him with a serious intensity, and Dazai sighed again but didn’t move.

“Based on what we gathered from the ability user,” Chuuya said, standing in the kitchen with Atsushi, “they maybe have a week left, but most likely just a few days.”

“Is it painful for them?” Atsushi asked, and Chuuya shook his head.

“They just go away, from what I understood. They’re part of you, aspects of you and Akutagawa both.”

Atsushi took a deep breath and nodded. “We’ll keep them safe until then,” he said.

Chuuya smiled and clapped his shoulder. “I know you will.”

When Akutagawa emerged from his bath, he found Atsushi standing in the babies’ room, the light off, and watching them sleep in their cribs. He crouched beside Ryuu-chan’s crib, watching the baby take slow, even breaths. “What if they disappear in the night?” he asked quietly.

“You can’t watch them every second,” Akutagawa said and touched his shoulder gently. “Come to bed, weretiger.”

Atsushi’s mouth quirked, but he looked up at Akutagawa and there were no longer tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He just looked tired. “When you say it like that, it makes me think…” he trailed off, sighed, and got to his feet. “It doesn’t matter what I think,” he said instead.

Akutagawa caught his wrist, and led him out of the room, closing the door behind them. Atsushi put up no struggle and let Akutagawa sit him on the same edge of the mattress as he had the night before, but this time Akutagawa stood before him, a somber expression on his face. Atsushi looked up at him and stilled when Akutagawa touched his face.

He closed his eyes and turned his cheek against Akutagawa’s palm. His hand was warm, and its presence on his face felt right. “I’m sorry,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi stilled, his eyes opening. “I’m sorry that this can’t be permanent. Those children deserve someone who loves them as much as you do.”

Atsushi stared at Akutagawa. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t spoil the moment by opening your mouth, weretiger.”

Atsushi laughed softly. Akutagawa leaned in close, and he looked up at him, eyes wide. Then he closed his eyes, mouth opening slightly, and Akutagawa took the offer, closing the remaining distance to kiss him again.

There was sunlight creeping in around the curtains when Atsushi woke. He meant to get up, to check on the babies, but Akutagawa’s arm was tight over his waist, and he couldn’t move without disturbing him.

They’d kissed so much last night. Atsushi covered his face with his one free hand, blushing despite himself. He’d never thought about kissing before, but Akutagawa’s mouth was almost addictive; he liked being so close, feeling the warmth of his body, the taste of him—and clearly, Akutagawa had no qualms about it himself.

He shouldn’t be so familiar with someone who had tried to kill him so many times he’d lost count—heck, Akutagawa trying to kill Atsushi appeared to be what started this entire endeavor—but he was comfortable here, Akutagawa’s warmth pressed against his back, arm holding him close. He did need to get up soon, get breakfast and some bottles started, but…

As if sensing Atsushi’s thoughts about getting up and moving, Akutagawa murmured something unintelligible and sleepy against the back of Atsushi’s neck. His grip on Atsushi’s waist tightened, and Atsushi made an amused noise at Akutagawa’s possessiveness. He started to try to extricate himself, but Akutagawa’s hand at his waist slipped forward, and under the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

And closed around his morning wood.

Atsushi choked.

“Please,” Akutagawa said into his neck, and that word still felt so foreign coming from his lips that Atsushi focused on it, wrapped his mind around it like the warm hand on his dick, and stuttered out another breath as Akutagawa kissed his neck, stroking him slowly.

It felt so good.

Atsushi covered his mouth with his hand, breath trembling through his fingers as Akutagawa stroked him again and again. He didn’t want to wake the babies and have this cascade of pleasure end, but regardless of the infants in the next room, his hips jumped off the mattress. Akutagawa pulled him back down and kissed him quiet as Atsushi painted broad white stripes across the fabric of his shirt.

“Good?” Akutagawa’s voice was still sleep-rough, and it sent electric jolts down Atsushi’s nerves.

He swallowed, still panting, and finally croaked out “yeah.”

There was a heartbeat of panic when Atsushi checked baby Atsushi’s crib and found it empty. He whirled to check Ryuu-chan’s crib as well and found them both in the same crib, baby Atsushi sleeping on his back, and Ryuu-chan sleeping with his back against baby Atsushi’s side, clutching the tail that trailed from baby Atsushi’s sleep romper.

Atsushi exhaled, leaned on the rail of the crib, and smiled down at them before he crept out of the room to retrieve his phone.

Akutagawa sat on the floor with the babies, helping Ryuu-chan build a tower of blocks with Rashomon bracing it. Baby Atsushi was crawling around, racing a car on the floor, until he got distracted by the tail coming off his romper and started yelling BA at it, rolling around on the floor and trying to grab at it. Akutagawa used Rashomon to pick up the blocks so that the tower progress was not impacted when baby Atsushi rolled through the construction zone, and Ryuu-chan pulled himself to his feet, waving a block in his hand and straining to put it on the wobbling tower.

“Ba, BA,” baby Atsushi babbled angrily, and Akutagawa sat him upright, one hand on his back.

“Pa,” he said.

“Ba,” baby Atsushi said back to him. “Bada.”

Atsushi walked into the room carrying the laundry. Akutagawa set baby Atsushi on his feet and nudged him in Atsushi’s direction, and baby Atsushi toddled after him, hands in the air. “Ba pa PA!”

“What?” Atsushi put down the basket and crouched, holding his arms out as the baby wobbled to him. “What was that, little guy?”

“Pa papa!” Baby Atsushi smacked his palms into Atsushi’s cheeks and laughed as Atsushi hugged him close. “Papa!”

Akutagawa and Ryuu-chan watched this together with matching expressions. “Treacle,” Akutagawa said dismissively, the ghost of a smile on his face, and Atsushi stuck his tongue out at Akutagawa.

“Dada,” Ryuu-chan said in solemn agreement.

They tucked the babies into their cribs together. Atsushi had discovered Akutagawa dozing on the floor, with baby Atsushi sleeping half sprawled over his stomach while Ryuu-chan stacked blocks around his head. Atsushi watched them for a while, shoulder leaning against the doorframe, but when he took his phone out Rashomon leapt across the room and straight through the screen. “Hey!” Atsushi yelped, as the murdered electronic sparked where Rashomon impaled it against the wall. “My phone!”

“No pictures,” Akutagawa said muzzily, and Atsushi scowled, grateful both for the cloud backup and that he’d managed at least one photo from the kitchen.

Both babies went down without any fuss tonight, into their separate cribs. Akutagawa turned out the light behind them and closed the door, and before Atsushi could open his mouth in protest, pulled him toward the bedroom. “We should talk,” Atsushi said as Akutagawa sat him again on the edge of the bed. He flushed when he said that, thinking of hands in places where they should not be, and Akutagawa tilted his head as he regarded Atsushi like a puzzle that needed to be solved.

“Do you really wish to talk, weretiger?” he asked, and Atsushi frowned at him, because yes, of course he did…but then Akutagawa dropped to his knees before him, and Atsushi caught his breath. “Allow me to repay you,” Akutagawa said slyly, as he pulled Atsushi’s pants open, “for your damaged phone.”

“Akutagawa,” Atsushi breathed, as Akutagawa’s fingers closed around his length and a shiver wicked up his spine. A smile tugged at Akutagawa’s mouth, watching Atsushi watch him, and then, very conscious of Atsushi’s eyes on him, he tucked his hair back behind his ear and delicately licked the head of his cock.

Atsushi swallowed air, and didn’t know what to do with his hands. He settled one tentatively in Akutagawa’s hair, fingers curling in it, and Akutagawa did not dissuade him, his attention focused between Atsushi’s legs. Atsushi covered his mouth with his other hand, trying to keep in the high, keening noises that were threatening to escape.

It was over quickly, Atsushi’s hips rocking off the edge of the mattress and his hand keeping Akutagawa’s head pressed in close, though he drew off just before Atsushi climaxed, white clawing at the edges of his vision.

Atsushi flopped over backward on the bed, staring at the ceiling, arms splayed out and chest heaving, brain empty. Akutagawa climbed up on the mattress beside him, wiping sticky white strands from his lips and Atsushi turned a deeply brilliant shade of red just looking at him.

“…why?” he croaked, as Akutagawa laid out next to him, looking very pleased with himself.

“Watching you come apart,” Akutagawa toyed with the end of Atsushi’s shirt, where it was riding up over his stomach, “is quite entertaining.” He flattened his palm, sliding his fingers through the splash of ejaculate drying on Atsushi’s skin, and smiled as he watched the skin jump at his touch.

Atsushi was still breathing quite hard and didn’t remember immediately where Akutagawa’s mouth had just been when he leaned over Atsushi and kissed him gently. “Akutagawa,” Atsushi murmured sleepily, hand in his hair again, trying to keep him down and close.

“Sleep,” Akutagawa ordered him. “I’m going to take a bath.”

“Check on the babies,” Atsushi said, eyes heavy. Akutagawa brushed his bangs away and kissed his forehead, and then rose off the bed, the mattress complaining slightly at his absence. Atsushi rolled onto his side, eyes closed tight, and drifted off.

He woke only a little when Akutagawa finally came to bed and pulled the covers over them both; Atsushi rolled onto his other side, face and body turned in toward Akutagawa, and Akutagawa touched his face for the barest moment before Atsushi drifted off again, safe and secure.

Atsushi scrubbed the breakfast dishes in the sink and tried very hard not to think about the fact that Akutagawa had sucked his dick.

He wasn’t really succeeding.

Akutagawa was in the main room supervising playtime, and Atsushi could watch from here, over the half-ledge that separated the main room from the kitchen. Akutagawa was seated on the couch, legs crossed at the knee and reading on a tablet as the babies wandered around the room after a balloon that someone (Akutagawa) had tied a pacifier to. Baby Atsushi was fascinated more with the movement, and Ryuu-chan clearly just wanted his binky back. No one was upset to the point of crying yet, so Atsushi let it be and kept on with the dishes.

This wasn’t real. Akutagawa had said so. They were playing at a family and Akutagawa was acting a role. That’s all this was. It didn’t matter how Atsushi’s gut knotted when he thought about how it would end, it didn’t matter in the slightest that he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Akutagawa’s mouth had stretched out around his cock, it really didn’t matter that he was thinking about pushing Akutagawa down into the mattress and twisting his hand in his hair and rutting—

The balloon popped and Atsushi shattered the plate he was holding.

He looked up to see baby Atsushi’s face turning red as he started to cry in anger; tiny green Rashomon tendrils rimmed in red were retreating from Ryuu-chan’s shirt, having finally liberated his binky. Breathing hard, Atsushi watched Ryuu-chan consider baby Atsushi’s angry tears and offer his binky to baby Atsushi, who didn’t seem interested in it, and then he looked down at the broken plate shards in his now-furry hands.

Atsushi swallowed hard and binned the destroyed plate.

Akutagawa leaned over Ryuu-chan’s crib and watched him pull at his feet sleepily. He relaxed his posture when Atsushi slid his hands over Akutagawa’s waist and pressed himself to his back, looking over Akutagawa’s shoulder at the baby in his crib. “I want,” Atsushi said, softly, and trailed off. Akutagawa put his hand over Atsushi’s on his waist and squeezed.

It was wordless and cooperative. They didn’t start kissing until the door to their own bedroom closed behind them, and Atsushi was pushing his hands under Akutagawa’s shirt, popping buttons as he opened it. He was frantic with it, this sudden need to touch and taste.

Akutagawa pulled him down onto the bed by the front of his shirt, and Atsushi pulled it off over his head so quickly it left his hair spiked funny with static. Akutagawa’s hand landed on his left hip and Atsushi paused as his palm slid up over the old scars burned into his flesh. “Don’t,” Atsushi said, kissing him to stop the question forming on his lips.

Rashomon slid over his skin, helping his pants down his hips, and Atsushi ignored the ability, focused on his own goal, getting Akutagawa’s pants open, finding his cock already stiff. He ran his fingers over it, fascinated suddenly, and Akutagawa exhaled and laughed at the touch.

“I want…” Atsushi said again, still couldn’t finish the thought. Akutagawa laughing. Genuine, not mocking, and it lit a fire behind his lungs that burned so hot he almost choked on it. There was so much he wanted, and he didn’t know, he didn’t have the experience; and there was something in Akutagawa’s eyes as he looked up at Atsushi, lazy and amused.

Atsushi wet his lips.

Sprawled back on the bed, Akutagawa knocked his knee into Atsushi’s side. “Something the matter, weretiger?”

He swallowed, focused between Akutagawa’s legs, and felt the pulse beating there, hot and fast. Then he raised his eyes. “I’ve never done this,” he said, finally, and Akutagawa snorted, raising himself on his elbows.

“You don’t say.”

“Asshole,” Atsushi muttered. He withdrew his hand, set both of his palms on his knees, and hung his head. Akutagawa regarded him for a moment, still propped up on his elbows before he sat up entirely. He didn’t speak, just watched Atsushi with those coal-dark eyes, and the way he watched him just made his stomach twist.

He wanted this, so much, and it was impossibly hard to wrap his mind around it. A week ago, he would have been content with slamming Akutagawa face first into a concrete wall, now here he was in bed with the man. He raised his eyes to Akutagawa’s, and asked, “is this… real?”

Rashomon rippled off the shirt tangled around Akutagawa’s arms and Atsushi yelped as he went overboard, off the bed and landing flat on his back on the floor. He hadn’t meant to make that much noise and froze, listening for any sound from the other room—when nothing came of it, he pulled himself up, elbow hooked on the edge of the mattress, and glared at Akutagawa. “What the hell was that?”

“I was hoping if you hit your head hard enough it would knock something loose,” Akutagawa said. “Did that feel real?”

He rubbed his head and scowled. “What the fuck is happening between us, right now?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Akutagawa folded his arms. “I don’t understand how that is ambiguous in any manner.”

Atsushi’s mouth opened and closed once. He climbed back onto the bed carefully, clearly expecting another assault by Rashomon. “Why?” he managed finally; as if he hadn’t been envisioning it since Akutagawa sucked the orgasm out of him.

“For fuck’s sake,” Akutagawa said, shoving Atsushi down into the covers. “Must I do everything myself?”

Atsushi lay on his back, fingers curled into the muscle of Akutagawa’s bare legs and watching in awe as he worked himself slowly onto Atsushi’s cock. All of Akutagawa’s concentration was on the task at hand, and Atsushi’s own attention was divided; half focused on the tight heat that was bearing down on him, engulfing him, and the other focused on the expression of sheer concentration on Akutagawa’s face.

Akutagawa knew what he was doing.

He walked Atsushi through preparing him, one finger after another pushing into him, his calm, slightly derisive voice hitching when Atsushi crooked his fingers just right, and Atsushi saw the pleasure scatter across his face.

“Fuck,” Atsushi breathed as Akutagawa worked more of him in, sinking further onto his cock with every breath; until he was pressed flat in Atsushi’s lap, head thrown back, cords taut in his neck. “You feel amazing.”

A smirk crossed Akutagawa’s face and his head tilted back down as he leaned forward, palm on Atsushi’s chest. “Say that again, weretiger.”

“You feel so fucking good,” Atsushi said immediately, nearly drunk on it. “You’re so hot and tight and fuck, fuck—”

“Language,” Akutagawa mumbled, amused, and Atsushi hissed out an annoyed breath, jogging his hips up and enjoying the way that Akutagawa shuddered, the tension traveling up his bare stomach.

They were moving together now, in concert, rising and falling; Atsushi could see the sweat on Akutagawa’s skin, wanted to lick it off him but before he could open his mouth Akutagawa let out a shuddering noise of pleasure as he tilted back, and in the silence after they both heard someone start to cry through the wall.

“No, no—” Atsushi hissed as Akutagawa doubled forward, putting both hands on the mattress framing Atsushi’s head and disengaging. “Dammit, I was so close—”

Akutagawa grabbed the top sheet with one hand, his ability coursing through the material and forming around his body so he wasn’t naked. “Stay,” he instructed Atsushi, and walked carefully out the door.

It only took a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity before Akutagawa returned. “Thrown pacifier,” he reported, and then let out a small noise of surprise when Atsushi grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him onto the bed. He thudded into the covers and looked up, amused, as Atsushi kissed him desperately. “Weretiger,” he murmured appreciatively into his mouth.

Then Atsushi turned him over, spread his cheeks with both hands, and slid effortlessly inside.

The angle was different, but that was more than okay. Atsushi ran his hand up Akutagawa’s spine, pushed his hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, and tightened his grip there, hips slamming into him again and again.

Akutagawa keened his release, too quick, and over the edge, it took Atsushi several rapid thrusts to follow, Akutagawa’s orgasm clenching tight around him. Atsushi hung there for a moment, panting loud, before pulling free and watching with overt fascination as white began to froth out from Akutagawa’s abused hole.

“Are you sure,” Akutagawa said finally, still panting into his arm, “that I’m your first?”

Atsushi, still breathing hard, laughed.

They lay side by side in the middle of the bed, out of the wet spot that Akutagawa had so helpfully left. Atsushi was drifting already, in a twilight space between asleep and awake, and Akutagawa’s fingers played with his ear tail. “I don’t trust people easily,” he said softly, “or at all, really, save for Gin.”

“Mm. No kidding.”

Atsushi whuffed when Akutagawa shoved him in the shoulder, and he opened his eyes slightly to complain when Akutagawa leaned in with a kiss. Atsushi relaxed into the kiss, and Akutagawa brushed a hand through his hair as he started drifting off again. “Sleep, weretiger,” Akutagawa hummed, and Atsushi dropped off as if on command.

Akutagawa woke naturally to grey dawn creeping in through the window. It felt later than normal, and there were no insistent noises from the babies’ room, and despite himself, his stomach dropped. Atsushi wasn’t awake yet, but he was wrapped around Akutagawa’s arm so there was no escape for him to check and be prepared. He exhaled.

Atsushi’s face was slack in sleep, gentle. Akutagawa brushed the ear tail off his face fondly, and that seemed enough to rouse him. Atsushi’s eyes squinted open, showing purple tinged with gold through his lashes.

When he saw Akutagawa’s face, he smiled.

It was a reflex, soft and warm and open, and Akutagawa was twisted up by it. He watched Atsushi’s eyes sleepily search his face, the smile faltering…and then he sat up. “What time is it?” Atsushi asked, voice scratchy, scanning the room for the phone he had lost overboard at some point last night.

Akutagawa sat up beside him as Atsushi fished over the side of the bed, locating his phone half under the bed itself, and when he saw the time, he staggered naked out of the bed. “Holy crap, it’s late. Why haven’t they woken us up? Akutagawa, it’s so late, why haven’t they—”

Atsushi banged out the door and into the babies’ room, and Akutagawa closed his eyes when he heard the broken noise that Atsushi made through the wall.

They were really gone.

It was empty and quiet in the apartment.

Atsushi sat in the center of the bed, knees to his chest. He’d know this was coming, eventually, but he was still taking it much harder than Akutagawa had anticipated. “Is it weird that I miss them so much?” Atsushi asked without lifting his head from his knees, when he sensed Akutagawa lingering in the doorway. “They were us.”

Akutagawa took a long breath, and then sat on the edge of the bed, half turned in toward Atsushi. “I miss them too, weretiger,” he said finally, and Atsushi looked over at him in surprise. “But you are definitely weird.”

Atsushi leaned forward to hit him, although there was no power behind the smack, eyes glittering. Akutagawa caught his wrist and pulled him in, putting his arms around Atsushi and holding him close as he cried into Akutagawa’s chest.

He carded his hand through Atsushi’s hair. “I love how you loved them,” he said, finally. “How much you loved Ryuu-chan. Me. You treated me so tenderly. How fortunate I would have been to be loved so much.”

Atsushi said, his voice thick, “you are.”

Akutagawa’s fingers in Atsushi’s hair paused.

He could almost feel the damnable weretiger’s smirk through his tone alone. “But tell me how much you love me loving you again.”

“Not if you’re going to be insufferable about it.”

Atsushi laughed, softly, into Akutagawa’s shirt. He lifted his head and Akutagawa looked at him, tracks of tears down his cheeks, eyes red from crying; Akutagawa swiped his thumb over Atsushi’s lower lip, tilted his chin, and kissed him.