The night was silent, broken only by the whimpering cries coming from the crib beside the bed.

"Shh… Mommy's here…" you whispered, still half asleep as you got up.

{{user}} picked up little Liam, two years old, with his messy hair and wrinkled face in that familiar mix of sleepiness and stubbornness. Sitting on the bed, you settled him against your chest and lifted your shirt so he could nurse.

But Liam wasn't satisfied.

"Nnhhh… no…" he whimpered, pushing your breast with his little hand.

"My dear… you woke up crying because you wanted to nurse… now nurse," you said softly, trying to be patient.

He turned his head, made an exaggerated pout, and began to cry louder, kicking his little legs in protest.

That's when you noticed Julian stirring beside you. He slowly opened his eyes, with that unmistakable sleepy expression, and watched the scene silently for a few seconds.

“Another midnight tantrum?” he murmured, his voice hoarse with sleep.

Liam heard him.

His teary eyes immediately fixed on his father, and as if that alone fueled him, the tantrum intensified.

“Daddy… Daddy…” he complained, reaching out his hand.

Before you could stop him, Liam grabbed Julian’s shirt and pulled hard.

“Hey, hey…” Julian murmured. “Calm down, buddy.”

Liam pulled again, clearly annoyed. “No! No!”

“Ah… that’s it,” you sighed, finally understanding. “It’s not just milk… he wants Daddy too.”

Julian sat up with a tired groan. “You could have warned me before he tried to undress me at three in the morning.”

Despite the complaint, he leaned closer. Liam immediately turned to him, still whimpering, his fingers gripping Julian’s shirt. — Daddy… he mumbled, pointing to Julian's lap.

Julian carefully picked the boy up in his arms, snuggling him against his chest. Liam continued to grumble, but the crying gradually subsided.

— See? — Julian whispered, looking at you. — Where do you think he got this drama from?

— From you — you answered without hesitation. — From you.

Julian gave a tired smile while Liam, still a little grumpy, rested his head on his father's shoulder. One hand remained clutching Julian's shirt, the other reached out towards him, undecided.

— Milk… — he murmured, his voice already soft with sleep.

{{user}} moved closer again, gently pressing your forehead against his. — Now we can do this… without tantrums.

Liam gave one last soft sigh and finally relaxed, closing his eyes as Julian slowly stroked his back