By the time they arrived home, the shopping bags had practically filled the backseat.
Finn had fallen asleep somewhere between the sushi rolls and the skyline. His head lolled to the side, mouth open, one hand still clutching the bag of gummy bears Adrian had bribed him with.
Aster unbuckled him from the car seat carefully.
Adrian watched from the other side of the car as Aster gently adjusted Finn's hoodie, lifting the boy into his arms like it was second nature.
No cameras. No audience. Just the quiet rhythm of a small family returning home.
The penthouse was dim and warm, bathed in sunset light. The luxury of it all still hadn't settled in for Aster. The polished floors. The sweeping windows. The soft scent of vanilla and cedar lingering in the halls.
"Bath," Adrian said when Finn stirred groggily in Aster's arms.
"Nooooo," Finn whined, squirming halfheartedly. "Finn smell good!"
"You smell like sweat and sugar," Aster replied, ruffling his hair.
"I smell like gummy bears."
"That's not a compliment," Adrian deadpanned.
But Finn was already laughing as they brought him to the giant bathroom—marble floors, golden light fixtures, a tub the size of a kiddie pool. Aster started the water while Adrian handed him a tiny towel and pulled out the caddy of bath toys.
Of course Adrian had a full toy set ready. Rubber duckies, foam letters, floating boats. Some still had the tags.
Finn squealed the moment he was lowered into the bubbling water. "I'm a shark! RAWR!"
"Sharks don't roar," Aster said, sleeves rolled up, crouched beside him.
"Finn rawr!"
"You're soaking the towels—Finn, the walls!"
Adrian chuckled quietly from behind them, watching with amusement as chaos unfolded in his designer bathroom. He crouched down and gently helped rinse Finn's hair when he got too much shampoo in his eyes, voice calm and reassuring.
Aster paused.
That image—Adrian, so collected and effortless, hands gentle and precise—looked so natural it was hard to believe he was the same man who rearranged his insides just last night.
He looked like... a father. A family.
And it made something soft bloom in Aster's chest.
After toweling Finn dry and stuffing him into fuzzy pajamas, the boy happily flopped onto the soft guest bed that was now his room. He dragged a plush bear and an old rabbit under the blanket with him, blinking up at the two adults with wide eyes.
"Story?" he asked, already yawning.
"Do you want to pick, or shall I?" Adrian asked, pulling a book from the nightstand.
"Uncle pick!"
Aster blinked. "...Uncle?"
Finn turned to Adrian. "Uncle."
"Oh, I'm honored," Adrian said without missing a beat.
"You can't just call his Uncle, Call him Mr—" Aster tried, flustered.
"Finn can," Finn said proudly. "Cuz I'm the baby!"
Adrian smirked. "He's got you there."
They both sat on either side of the bed while Adrian read a children's book about dragons and pancakes. His voice was warm, steady, with just enough drama to make Finn giggle. By the third story, Finn's breathing had slowed and his small fingers had curled into the blanket.
Aster leaned down and pressed a kiss to his hair.
"Goodnight, kiddo."
"Night night, brother," Finn mumbled.
They turned off the light and closed the door.
They returned to the master bedroom in quiet steps, the warmth of the day still lingering in their limbs.
Aster paused by the door, suddenly hyper-aware of how sore he still felt. A nervous twist settled in his stomach.
Was Adrian expecting something tonight?
His back still ached. He wasn't sure he could—
"You should shower," Adrian said casually, tossing a towel toward him. "It'll help."
Aster caught it, startled. "R-Right. Okay."
The water soothed him, even as tension lingered under his skin. He toweled off and stepped into the room with slightly damp hair, wearing borrowed sweatpants and a soft shirt that clung just a little to his skin.
Adrian was already there—shirtless, hair damp too.
He must've showered in the guest room.
He was seated at the edge of the bed, stretching his neck slightly. Then he slid under the covers and patted the space beside him.
"Come here."
Aster hesitated.
He glanced at the bed.
At Adrian.
He wasn't sure if he should say something. Ask for a break? Or would that seem childish? Ungrateful?
Still, he moved. Slowly. Crossing the room and crawling under the sheets, a little too stiff, a little too hesitant.
Adrian didn't push. Just wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in close.
Their bodies aligned naturally.
Warm. Steady.
Comfortable.
"...Are we going to do it?" Aster asked, voice small.
Adrian smirked against his hair. "If you can take my big c*ck again, then sure."
Aster smacked his arm with a gasp. "Adrian!"
Adrian laughed, that low, satisfied sound, and eased his grip to make Aster feel more cocooned than cornered.
"I'm kidding," he murmured. "Just sleep."
Aster hesitated for a breath... then let himself melt into the warmth.
There was no pressure.
No urgency.
Just this quiet moment—his head resting on Adrian's chest, their legs tangled beneath the sheets.
And despite the ache in his body and the noise in his mind, Aster felt something unusual rise up in him.
Safety.
He hadn't felt it in a long, long time.
He closed his eyes.
And this time, he drifted off in seconds.
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N/a : I give up on the baby talk, damn.