Is this punishment? Katsuki stares at the ceiling, eyes dead and a comical frown painting his features. His limbs are sprawled out over the bed, intruding on his spouse's side.

I shouldn't have been a punk in highschool. This is what happens. I need to apologize to everyone. I'll call them all.

Only sleep deprivation and his lover could ever convince Katsuki to consider apologizing. He's blessed to have one, cursed with the other.

Another scream causes the other body in bed to rouse this time. Katsuki sighs, then sits up. He knows it's his turn. He rubs his face, groans, and finally gathers the gall to get up.

His stride is that of the undead in movies. A toy on the ground nearly trips him.

"Okay, okay, I hear ya," he rasps when he enters the dark room. His fingers graze the noise machine to shut it off. "Yer killin' me."

Katsuki leans down and scoops the baby out of the crib. Tiny legs kick in their sleep sack. With deft, dexterous fingers, he pulls the zipper down and pulls the garment off.

"Yeah, I dunno, kid. I'd feel strangled in this, too, but the ol' ball 'n chain says it's good for ya." He snorts.

"You'll be fine." Their leisurely pace to the kitchen is quieted by his hushes. The formula machine has him wincing with its volume, but it must be done.

His spouse emerges from their bedroom as Katsuki feeds the bottle to the baby.