Work Text:
To say that Ittetsu was stressed felt like an understatement. Keishin had seen Ittetsu when he was stressed. This? Well, this was beyond that. It was anxiety, mixed with fear and a strong desire to fight off the feeling of regret.
Keishin watched as Ittetsu sat at the kitchen table. He stared at a pile of graded essays, and his hand held a pen that was writing invisible words in the air. Occasionally, he would tap that pen on the table three times before resuming his writing. Then, after a few minutes of that, he would stand up and walk to the second bedroom of their apartment. He would stand at the doorway, mumble, wring his hands, step in, then out, and return to the table. Ittetsu would then pick at the scabs on his arms — the bug bites that summer had been particularly plentiful, and his anxiety had only worsened his picking — stop, scold himself, and then bury his face in his hands.
After looking at his watch, Keishin decided he needed to put a stop to this. He got up from his place on the couch, leaving behind the manga volume he had just skimmed.
"Specs," Keishin murmured, approaching him from behind and bringing his arms around to land on top of Ittetsu's, "what's on your mind?"
"Keishin," Ittetsu leaned back, "I didn't mean to worry you."
His hands now rubbed the scabs, and Keishin lowered his chin onto Ittetsu's head and used his arms to hold Ittetsu just a bit tighter. Ittetsu liked the close contact, not restrictive, but not so faint.
"You've gone to look at the nursery four times, and you finished grading these essays an hour ago. And you're writing again, in the air," Keishin's fingers tapped on Ittetsu lightly. First on the tops of his hands, then at his wrists. It was odd to discover what simply, silly touches could calm your partner, but Keishin didn't care. Not when Ittetsu returned those taps, no longer picking at his skin, the pen no longer writing his worries in invisible ink.
"Tell me," Keishin said. He wanted to hear Ittetsu's concerns out loud.
Ittetsu took a deep breath in and counted.
"One. We missed something on the list."
"We checked it five times, all three copies. We even made an inventory."
"Two. We miss the call, or they change their minds."
"You have not let our phones fall below seventy percent, and we've been hearing every single notification possible for the last two weeks."
Then Keishin held his breath; he didn't want to say it, but he had to. "They're allowed to change their minds. If they do, we will be okay. We will try again."
He ended it with a kiss on top of Ittetsu's head.
"Three. I'm an awful parent. What if I drop the baby?"
"No one is a perfect parent, but I know you'll be so close. Also, you won't drop the baby; no one's dropping the baby. We won't even let the club hold 'em. Just us."
"And your mother," Ittetsu responded, "your grandad?"
"Might handle 'em like a volleyball. He did that with me once, but I turned out okay!"
Ittetsu laughed, and it made Keishin's heart soar. He wanted to hear his joy.
"Four. We're getting a lot of rain next week, and there's that leak in the roof."
"I'll get Takinoue and Shimada to come help me patch it up tomorrow."
Ittetsu sighed, deflating, but then he mumbled, "Five."
Keishin hummed, "You've never gotten to five before."
"What if we never have a child? What if we're cursed? What if I'm pouring my heart and soul into this want, and it never happens?"
Ittetsu turned in his seat, now facing Keishin, his eyes watery and red, "What if we have to stop trying and it breaks me? What if you resent me, or hate me, or want to leave me?"
"Specs, whoa, hey," Keishin pulled out the chair beside him and sat in it. He scooted closer to Ittetsu, their legs tangled together, and he pulled Ittetsu towards him until their foreheads touched.
"If that happens… If we don't get a child, then it will be hard, but I won't ever resent you. It would never be your fault. If it breaks you, I'll be here. I'll help you put yourself together, as long as you help me do the same."
He reached for Ittetsu's hand and pulled it up to his lips, planting a soft kiss before pressing it against his cheek.
Ittetsu looked at him with tearful eyes, "Of course, I never want to leave you."
"Then believe me when I say I don't either, no matter what happens. I told you, Ittetsu," Keishin kissed him. "We're running this damn club together even when we're seconds away from our graves. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not."
"I like it," Ittetsu murmured, as he pulled away only to press their cheeks together and then snuggled into the curve of Keishin's neck, "I love you."
"I love you too, Ittetsu," he kissed the top of his head.
"Your turn," Keishin heard Ittetsu say after a moment of silence, "tell me what worries you."
He smiled, "Would you believe me if I said nothing?"
Ittetsu shook his head, "How can you not be worried?"
"I don't know. Maybe it will hit me later, when I least expect it, or at the worst time possible… but right now… I just feel calm. We might have a baby in the next few days, hours, even, and I've never felt such peace wash over me."
"With you," Keishin used one hand to lift Ittetsu's and move his face to look at him, "I think I could do anything. I want to do everything with you. I'm excited."
Ittetsu began crying seconds ago, and as he did, he nodded along to Keishin's words, "I don't want to do this with anyone else but you." He opened his arms and rushed to embrace Keishin, pulling him close.
Keishin's hands wrapped around Ittetsu, and he breathed him in, letting him sniffle and sob all his fears out.
"It's all going to work out, Specs," Keishin comforted. "Let's call it a night, okay? Come to bed."
Keishin got up, put the essays away in their designated folder, then took Ittetsu by the hand and pulled him toward their bedroom.
—
Keishin was stressed. He had been right all those weeks ago when he predicted the fear and worry would hit when he least expected it. He almost wasn't aware of his behavior until Ittetsu wrapped his arms around him from behind. His chest pressed tightly against Keishin's back.
"You said this would happen," Ittetsu whispered.
Keishin tensed up, "What do you mean?"
"You're scared."
Ittetsu recalled the last ten minutes vividly. First, there was the turning in bed. Every few seconds, Keishin moved, tugging the blanket and adjusting his pillow. Then he stood up, walked over to the crib, and tapped his fingers on the wooden frame. Ittetsu could hear as he murmured under his breath. He could imagine his eyebrows furrowed, worried, as he counted the seconds between each breath their baby took. Keishin then sat back down on the bed. Only he didn't lie down, just sat staring at the crib. Ittetsu heard him sigh, and when he turned around, saw Keishin run his hand through his hair and the other tap his thigh, where he usually kept his cigarettes during the day. Keishin got up again before Ittetsu called out, straight to the crib again. One hand reached inside, and Ittetsu knew he was feeling for air.
He had done that when the baby was sleeping between them.
Over the span of seven minutes, Keishin repeated this multiple times until he finally stayed still by the crib. By then, Ittetsu was already moving to embrace him.
"You usually sleep through the night," Ittetsu explained further. "You get up for your shift, nurse, and then immediately fall back asleep with no issue."
"Specs—"
"And you searched for your cigarettes. You only do that when you're nervous, overwhelmed."
Ittetsu hugged him tighter, "What's keeping you up, my love?"
"It's stupid," Keishin slumped forward ever so slightly.
"It's not."
"It doesn't make sense."
"But it's still bothering you," Ittetsu comforted, "talk it out until it makes sense."
"He's so far away," Keishin murmured after a few seconds. Ittetsu moved to be by his side, one arm still wrapped around Keishin, and the other on top of his hand.
"Before, well, if something was bothering him or if he was having trouble, he was right between us. I could hear him breathe. I could feel his tiny breaths when I was close enough, or notice when he started to get hungry or wake up."
They stared down at the sleeping baby, clothed in a light yellow pajama set that the volleyball club had gifted them.
"Now, I'm terrified I'll miss something. What if he turns around, gets stuck, and can't breathe? What if he stops breathing altogether, because that's happened before with other babies? It happens enough times that it sticks in my mind, and I don't think we could bear losing him like that. What if he needs us, looks for us, and we're too far away to know that he wants us?"
Ittetsu listened and felt his heart swell. Hearing Keishin's worries spoken so easily was a testament to their growth. He hugged him tightly, and Keishin added, "but it's all just stupid. I know I shouldn't worry about all that—"
"It's not stupid," Ittetsu assured him.
"I think… I think every parent feels like this at first. You're right, so many things can happen and have happened. Being scared of that is normal," Ittetsu said. "My mother told me that when I was born, my dad didn't sleep for four days. It wasn't until he passed out that he realized how paralyzing his fear had been. He wanted to make sure I was safe and that my mother was resting."
Ittetsu thought about his parents. He had been their only son after trying for so long. He imagined their fear was the same one torturing Keishin right now.
Keishin shifted, his fingers found Ittetsu's and intertwined with them, "If I could, I would never take my eyes off him."
Ittetsu leaned into him more. They watched their baby squirm and shift as a small whine escaped him.
"Maybe he can sleep with us for a couple more weeks," Ittetsu offered, "your mother had said it might've been too soon."
"We're not terrible parents for that…" Keishin murmured, as if trying to reassure himself.
Ittetsu smiled, "No. We're not."
That was all Keishin needed to act. He reached inside and, with extreme care, lifted their son into his arms and walked over to their bed. Ittetsu helped Keishin maneuver the baby between them. Once they were settled, Ittetsu watched Keishin visibly relax. His shoulders eased up, his breathing slowed, and his gaze was solely on their son.
"We haven't named him yet," Ittetsu mumbled.
"You've turned down a lot of ideas," Keishin responded, the edges of his mouth curling. It was true. They had a long list, but when he held the baby, none of them felt right. There was one thing that Ittetsu knew it needed.
"Names are important," Ittetsu told Keishin.
"What are you thinking?"
Ittetsu hummed, "I think he should have 'Kei' in there like your grandfather… like you."
Keishin smiled, and between them, their son moved and yawned. A few seconds passed, and slowly his eyes opened.
"To connect," Ittetsu extended a finger, and though he was just waking up, the baby reached for it, grabbed it with his tiny fingers.
"That's what it means. He should share that with you two," Ittetsu continued, "but it shouldn't just be Kei—"
"Don't want Tsukishima getting a big head?"
"He would not care at all!" Ittetsu laughed. "The others might get jealous though if they thought it was for him. But no, you and your grandfather added to it, so should we."
Between them, the baby attempted to suck Ittetsu's finger — a sign he was ready for some food. Ittetsu pulled his hand away, and their baby started whining.
"He's getting your bottle, bud," Keishin whispered as Ittetsu sat up and grabbed a bottle they had nearby. It didn't take long for their son to latch, and soon they were watching him.
While he drank, his eyes still darted around. Ittetsu, on a whim, had decorated the ceiling with some glow-in-the-dark stars so that the baby could look at something when he wasn't in his crib. They watched him stare at the stars, his eyes moving from one to another. Then he would twist his small body to look at the two of them. He would stop eating — the bottle leaking the formula onto his chest — to babble.
Keishin and Ittetsu responded with questions and simple sentences, overjoyed at how much growth he was already showing. Their baby went back to drinking when Ittetsu helped hold up the bottle again. Before he could finish the bottle, he was already back asleep, his chest rising softly, belly full and surrounded by his dads.
In the soft silence, watching the one thing they had waited so long for, they had forgotten all their fears. Sleep was difficult to come by for them those days, but that night was one of the best they had.