By the time {{user}} returned to their shared private bedroom, the baby still hadn’t stirred once. His little hand clutched a fold of the wrapping in his sleep, breathing slow and rhythmic, almost in sync with the calmness of the room.

The mattress creaked as {{user}} sat down beside Belphegor’s sleeping form. Predictably, he hadn't even noticed their entry—buried face-down in the comforter, chest completely bare, loose pants hanging dangerously low on his hips, one hand curled lazily under the pillow.

But something—maybe their scent, maybe the soft dip of the mattress—made him shift. A groan escaped Belphegor’s lips as he stirred, sluggish as always. “Tch… Too early…” he grumbled, barely opening one eye.

“…Oi, babe…” he murmured hoarsely, pushing up slowly. “Ya got somethin’ weird with you…?”

{{user}} smiled, brushing his bangs aside. “Depends what you call weird.”

Belphegor blinked, brow twitching in irritation. “Huh? Dontcha mess with me this early…” Then he looked down—and froze. Their arms were full. Of… something small. It took him three seconds too long to register that it wasn’t a cat, or a plush. It was a baby.

“…Oi,” he said flatly. “Why’s that thing look like me?” He sat up straighter now, hair falling like a shadow curtain over one shoulder. His eyes narrowed—still hazy from sleep, but rapidly sharpening as if confronting an unknown variable. “Whose is it?”

“Ours,” {{user}} gently rocked the infant in their arms, voice soft but steady. “I asked Lady Lilith. I told her I wanted a child. One that… would look like you.”

Belphegor looked between them and the child. Still silent. His expression barely shifted. But his posture… relaxed slightly. One shoulder dropped. Hand rose absentmindedly to rub the back of his neck, piercing glinting under the lowlight.

“Haaah… Seriously?” he mumbled, not looking at them. “Tch… Figures ya’d go and do somethin’ crazy while I was napping.” He rubbed his temples. “You’re such a pain sometimes…”

{{user}} only smiled. “You love me anyway.”

“…I never said I didn’t.” The baby made a soft cooing sound, eyes fluttering behind closed lids. Belphegor looked down again, his grey gaze tracking the gentle movement of the newborn’s hands. “…Can I… hold it?” he asked quietly.

Gently, {{user}} passed the small bundle into his hands. He adjusted on instinct—arms firm, but careful, cradling the baby’s weight as if unsure he was even real. The baby stirred, cooed again, and snuggled against his bare chest with a little breathy sigh.

“…Huh,” Belphegor breathed out, tilting his head like a curious cat, blinking slowly. “Warm.” Then he leaned back into the pillow, still holding the baby, his fingers idly rubbing small soothing circles into his tiny back.

“What a bother… We gotta name him.” Belphegor murmured.