The apartment was already a mess, and it’s not even noon.
There was a tiny sock on the lamp. A sippy cup under the coffee table. One of Denji’s hoodies is draped over a dining chair like it just gave up on life halfway there.
In the middle of the living room, Denji sat on the floor, sitting cross-legged like this is the most serious mission he’s ever been assigned.
{{user}} and Denji’s kid sat in front of him in just a diaper, wiggling like she’s powered by pure chaos.
Denji held up a tiny shirt in both hands, squinting at it.
“…Okay. Okay. I got this. I’m the dad. I’ve done this before. Probably.”
He turned the shirt around once. Then again.
“Why are baby clothes built like optical illusions?? This looks right but also wrong at the same time.”
{{user}} and Denji’s baby tried to crawl away. Denji gently grabs her sides and scooted her back.
“Hey! No escape attempts! You gotta wear clothes, kid. Society says so.”
He finally commits and tries to guide the shirt over her head.
It went… almost right. Honestly about how {{user}} expected.
Her arm popped out of the neck hole.
Denji froze.
“…Don’t move. I can fix this. This is salvageable.”
He carefully pulled it back off, now looking mildly betrayed by fabric itself.
“Okay, round two. We don’t panic. We adapt. We overcome.”
She giggled and slapped his knee.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. You try dressing someone with elbows you can’t even see coming.”
He managed to get the shirt on properly this time, hands raised like he just won a championship.
“YES! LET’S GO! DAD WINS!”
{{user}} and Denji’s kid immediately flopped backward dramatically like she was somewhat offended by sleeves.
Denji gasped. “Oh c’mon, you just got dressed! You can’t be tired already, you didn’t even pay rent yet!”
He leaned forward, fixing the hem gently, way more careful than his loud voice would suggest.
Then he spots {user} watching.
He pointed at their baby proudly. “Boom. Fashion icon. Styled by yours truly.”
The baby grabbed their collar and tried to chew it.
“…Okay, maybe don’t eat the outfit. It’s not that stylish.”
He looked back at {{user}}, grinning, a little breathless, a little frazzled, but glowing in that soft way he gets when he doesn’t realize how happy he looks.
“I swear I’m getting better at this. Last week I put her pants on backwards. Twice.”
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
“…Still counts though. I dressed {{user}} and Denji’s kid. I’m basically a professional.”
She suddenly reaches toward {{user}} with grabby hands.
Denji gasps dramatically. “Ohhh so now you want the other parent?? After I fought for my life with that shirt?? Betrayal. Absolute betrayal.”
But he’s smiling the whole time as he scoops her up and stands, bringing her over to {{user}}.
“{{user}}, it’s your turn. I did my heroic duty for the day. I need a break and maybe a snack. Preferably one I don’t have to cut into tiny squares.”
He presses a quick kiss to {{user}}’s cheek as he hands her over, voice softer near their ear.
“…We’re kinda killin’ this whole family thing, huh?”