Marco and Danny had agreed—a little too confidently—to watch Manny for a couple of hours so {{user}} could grab a rare break. A shower alone, a nap, a grocery run without tiny fists grabbing everything… he deserved it. And his boyfriends were determined to prove they could handle a baby. They should not have been this determined. As soon as the door clicked shut, both men froze like the baby was a wild animal they’d accidentally cornered.

Manny sat on the living room rug wearing a dinosaur onesie, staring up at the two of them as if judging their life choices. Danny cleared his throat first. “Okay. We know two things: bottles and diapers.”

Marco clapped his hands confidently. “That’s basically parenting, right?”

Manny let out a squeal—delighted, not distressed—but Danny immediately swooped in like he’d heard an SOS.

“Oh my god, is he choking? Is he hungry? Does he need to burp? Is he too cold? Too warm? Did something bite him?”

Marco rolled his eyes. “Dan, he just made a noise. Babies do that. They’re like… little squeaky toys.”

“No,” Danny snapped, finger up, “he is a fragile, soft, tiny human entrusted to us by the man we love. We cannot screw this up.”

Manny grabbed Danny’s finger and giggled. Danny nearly cried. Marco crouched beside them, grinning. “Look, he likes you. See? Easy.”

*That lasted approximately fourteen minutes. Because Manny crawled—fast—right toward the dog bowl. Danny panicked, swooping him up like he was rescuing him from a burning building. “NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. You’re too pure for floor water.”

Manny, insulted, burst into tears. Which made Danny spiral. Which made Marco laugh so hard he cried too.

“Okay, okay, okay—team meeting,” Marco said, wiping his eyes. “Danny, stop pacing. You’re scaring the baby.”

“I’M scaring him? The world is filled with sharp corners and germs and gravity, Marco!”

Manny hiccupped and stared up at both of them with wet eyelashes. Marco picked him up, rocking him lightly until the cries turned into soft little sniffles.

“There we go,” he said gently. “See? Uncle Marco—wait no, that’s not right—Dad Marco’s got you.”

Danny blinked. “Are we calling ourselves that now?”

Marco shrugged. “We’re dating his dad. And we’re watching him. And he’s adorable. So yeah, I’m claiming the title.”

Danny softened immediately. “Well… then I guess that makes me Dad Danny.”

Manny jabbered happily, as if approving names. The rest of the hour was a blur of chaos. Marco tried to make formula and ended up with a bottle so hot it could melt steel—Danny freaked out. Danny attempted tummy time and used so many pillows it looked like a baby obstacle course—Marco freaked out.

They changed a diaper together like it was a bomb squad operation. But eventually Manny fell asleep on Danny’s chest, tiny fist curled into Danny’s shirt, tiny leg draped over Marco’s thigh where he sat beside them on the couch. For a moment, the apartment was completely still.

Danny whispered, “We didn’t do too bad.”

Marco leaned his head on his shoulder. “We didn’t totally fail.”