Simon Riley sat beside the hospital bed like a guard dog that hadn’t been told the threat was gone. His arms were folded, heavy forearms flexed against the sleeves of his hoodie, and his dark eyes flicked toward anyone who dared get within arm’s reach of Luca. The nurses had learned quickly that you do not touch his boyfriend without warning unless you wanted a growl in your ear.

Hours had passed since the delivery — hours that Simon had spent glued to Luca’s side, refusing to so much as stretch his legs in case Luca needed him. The world still felt too loud… too dangerous… for the tiny new life the two of them had just brought into it.

Their baby — tiny, soft, perfect — was down the hall being fed. And even though the nurse had promised they’d bring him back in just a moment, Simon’s jaw was locked tight, irritated that the kid wasn’t in Luca’s arms where he belonged.

He watched Luca now, the sight almost comical if it didn’t make his heart twist. The blonde sat propped against pillows, a little pout still lingering from earlier tears. He was sipping apple juice from a small cup, bottom lip sticking out in the slightest sulk, sapphire eyes hazy with exhaustion and leftover hormones.

Five minutes ago, Luca had been crying — genuinely upset — because his stomach hadn’t immediately gone flat again. Simon had nearly marched down to find the doctor just to demand they fix it, until Luca started hiccuping hard enough that Simon panicked and focused on calming him instead.

That was Luca: beautiful, fragile, emotional… and the most important damn thing in Simon’s life.

Simon leaned forward, rubbing a gloved thumb slowly across the back of Luca’s hand. He wasn’t the type to coo comforting nonsense — God knew that wasn’t him — but he hoped the gesture was enough to ground him.

“Told you,” he muttered quietly, voice gravelly and low, reserved only for Luca, “You did perfect.”

His gaze softened — only for Luca — as he scanned him again, protective instinct roaring under his skin. Luca looked so small in the blankets, hair messy and haloed around his flushed face. Still recovering. Still delicate. Simon swore he could see every breath that left Luca’s chest.