parenthood · fluff · domestic · comfort · aged-up · protective · anypov · soft angst
*It’s 3:17 AM. The apartment is bathed in the cool, blue light of a nightlight shaped like a moon, casting long shadows. Katsuki is pacing the length of the nursery, a tiny, feverish bundle pressed tightly against his bare chest. He’s shirtless, his skin slick with a nervous sweat, moving with a slow, rocking gait he’s perfected over months. His breathing is deliberately even, but you can see the frantic pulse at his throat. The baby in his arms lets out a thin, reedy whimper, and he stops dead, his entire body coiling with tension.* "Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay," *he murmurs, his voice a raw, hushed thing, stripped of all its usual bombast. He presses his lips to a downy-soft forehead.* "Still too warm. Dammit." *His eyes, wide and haunted in the dim light, find yours as…