“He’s beautiful,” Wyatt whispered, kissing Ben’s head. “I think he looks like you.”
Raph didn’t know which of them their baby resembled, only that Ben looked like an infant to him. And he was a dad. Hazel counted, but Raph hadn’t held her when she’d been a newborn.
“Do you want to hold him?” Wyatt asked.
Raph gulped. Could he? He’d never held a baby before.
“We practiced, remember?” Wyatt said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Here.”
He handed Ben to Raph, and Raph held his breath, cradling Ben’s head, supporting his bottom. He was so damn tiny in Raph’s hands, all heavy and warm and damp.
Ben began to wail. Raph froze. For a person so small, Ben sure was loud. Wyatt laughed. “I think he’ll take some time to warm up to you.”
That was fine. Raph had done that with Hazel. He’d do it again.
He was a dad, as incredible as that was.
He pressed a feather-light kiss to Ben’s forehead, then handed him back to Wyatt, wrapping his arms around his son and omega. “Can’t wait to bring you both home.”
Wyatt grinned, tipping his face up. Raph kissed him, his heart full. In an hour or so, Penny would bring Hazel over, and maybe Mom and Dad would be here, too. Raph couldn’t wait to show Ben to them, have his family all together.
They’d fought hard for this, him and Wyatt. And Raph breathed Wyatt in, knowing this time, he’d stand by Wyatt no matter what. They were in this together for the decades to come.
Epilogue
One year later
“Have you seen Ben?” Wyatt asked, stopping by the nursery door.
“He’s on the mattress,” Raph said, glancing up from the half-braided locks of Hazel’s hair. Then he turned to look at the low mattress behind him, and froze. “Shit. He was just here!”
“He’s gone?” Hazel frowned, setting down her mess of jigsaw pieces. She moved, and her hair slipped out of Raph’s fingers.
“Damn it, princess. I was almost done.” Raph scowled, releasing Hazel’s hair. He stood up, combing the neat, tight twists of Hazel’s hair loose. “Ben was asleep when I started the braids. He couldn’t have gone far—it hasn’t been half an hour.”
“I saw him sleeping, too,” Hazel said.
Wyatt held his breath, casting his thoughts about for where Ben shouldn’t have gone. Ben had just begun crawling two months ago. Most days, he tired himself out from crawling, and napped for hours after. “Come on, let’s split up and search. I hope he isn’t chewing on the houseplants.”
Better the houseplants, than Ben hurting himself somehow.
They split up, Hazel peering into the corners of the nursery, and Wyatt checking Hazel’s bedroom. Raph looked into the kitchen, then the bedroom he shared with Wyatt. Two minutes later, they met in the living room, shaking their heads. It shouldn’t have been difficult—they were still in the same apartment Wyatt had always lived in. He knew this place inside-out.
“Did you check under the beds?” he asked.
“I did,” Hazel said.
“Yeah. I even looked behind the curtains,” Raph said.
Wyatt winced, the alarm bells in his head clanging. The front door was locked, and Ben couldn’t reach the windows yet. Where could he have gone?
“Let’s search again. It shouldn’t take three people to find a baby.” Wyatt had heard stories of cats that hid themselves away, not appearing until they wanted to be found. But Ben was twelve months old—he couldn’t scale cabinets and shelves yet.
“Maybe he’s hiding in a closet,” Hazel said.
Raph and Wyatt looked at her. “I haven’t checked the closet,” Raph said slowly.
“Neither have I,” Wyatt answered, his thoughts racing. The closet was a far better alternative than the kitchen, or the bathrooms.
Raph returned to the nursery. Hazel checked her own room. Wyatt stepped into the master bedroom, looking behind the plain bedroom door, and the space between the bed and the dresser. Then he turned to the closet, where there was a half-foot gap between the open sliding door, and the wall.
Gingerly, Wyatt slid the doors back, holding his breath. Ben had to be in here somewhere. There were no aliens in this world, or vampires, or anything that could sneak into the apartment.
In the middle of the laundry hamper, on top of his and Raph’s dirty clothes, Ben was curled up, sleeping with his thumb in his mouth.
Wyatt stared; he hadn’t thought Ben could climb yet.
He was about to pull his phone out, maybe take a picture, when Raph stepped into the room.
“Couldn’t find him,” Raph said, forehead creased.
“He’s here.” Wyatt smiled, nodding at the hamper.
Raph crossed the room, his eyebrows crawling up. “Sneaky little brat! I just looked in our room!”
“Shh, you’ll wake him.”
Raph grinned, slipping his arm around Wyatt’s waist. “Didn’t think to look in the closet. I should’ve.”
“He just climbed into the hamper, Raph! He’s starting to climb!” Wyatt had been about to say, Ben’s going to get into so much more trouble now, but Raph’s eyes lit up.
“That’s great, isn’t it?” Raph grinned, crouching to scoop Ben into his arms. “Not sure why he’d want to sleep in the basket, though. It’s full of dirty clothes.”
“Because it smells like us? Or food?” Wyatt chuckled. They’d returned to work at the drive-in when Ben was six months old. The staff never said a word about Wyatt and Raph’s relationship; either they didn’t mind, or they weren’t aware. No one mentioned the ring on Wyatt’s finger, either.
But morale at the diner was high, and that was all Wyatt wanted—a safe place where he and Raph could work, and where their children could grow up.
Ben stirred when Raph straightened, his eyelids fluttering open. He had Wyatt’s hazel eyes, and Raph’s black hair.
“Hey,” Raph murmured, kissing Ben on the forehead. “You scared us for a moment, there.”
“Dada,” Ben mumbled, blinking sleepily up at him.
Raph broke into a huge, silly grin. “Can’t believe how excited I get every time he says that. Dada.”
“Dada,” Ben said again, wriggling his fingers.
