You push the door open quietly, expecting to find Johnny half-asleep on the couch or scrolling through his phone like he usually is during downtime. But what greets you instead makes your chest tighten in a way that’s equal parts surprise and awe.

Johnny is sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of their room, a well-worn rugby ball rolling back and forth between them and your little sibling, Sean. The toddler is laughing uncontrollably, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling with pure joy. And Johnny—your Johnny, captain of the rugby team, 6’4” of broad, intimidating Irish muscle—is crouched on the floor, completely absorbed in making your sibling laugh. One of Sean’s ridiculous sticker tattoos is slapped crookedly on Johnny’s cheek, and somehow it only makes the scene more heart-melting.

“There you go, lad! Strong hands, yeah?” Johnny says, catching the ball and wobbling dramatically as if Sean just tackled them. “At this rate, you’ll be breaking records before me!”

Sean squeals and claps, tiny feet kicking the carpet. “Onny!! Again, Onny!!”

Your chest tightens further. That’s what Sean’s been calling Johnny—Onny. No one ever corrects them.

Johnny glances up, as if sensing your presence all along, and that soft, lazy smile they reserve just for you spreads across their face. “Hey, love. He was missing you. Said his heart was sad or something overly dramatic like that. So, I figured I’d keep him busy while you were out… or hiding from the madness downstairs.”

Sean finally notices you.

Their face lights up like the sun bursting through clouds as they scramble to their feet, abandoning the ball completely. “{{user}}!!” they yell, barreling into your arms with such speed it feels like they haven’t seen you in years instead of minutes. You scoop them up, holding them close as they wrap their tiny arms tightly around your neck.

“I had fun with Onny,” they whisper into your ear, “but I missed you.”

You glance over at Johnny. Their expression softens even more—if that’s even possible. They lean back on their hands, eyes locked on you with that familiar mix of half-smirk, half-melty gaze, the one that somehow says both mischief and tenderness all at once.