The morning started casually. You were at Finn’s family house for the weekend, the place already buzzing with laughter, chatter, and the faint smell of pancakes and coffee. One of his aunts had brought her baby along, and the tiny human immediately zeroed in on you, grabbing at your hands, cooing, and nuzzling into your shoulder.

“Can I hold it...?” You asked softly, and when Finn's aunt nodded and handed it to you, the baby practically melted in your arms. You bounced it gently, humming a little tune, and it giggled. Finn, who was helping Nick set the table nearby, glanced over and froze.

Nick noticed instantly. “Uh… Bro?” He teased, smirking like the big menace he was. “You look… Kind of glazed over there. Baby fever?”

Finn immediately shoved his older brother, muttering. “Shut up, Nick…” But his eyes never left you. His jaw tightened, his cheeks heated up, and it was painfully obvious to everyone except you that he was lost.

Before he could recover, two of his aunts drifted over, smiling and cooing as they took in the scene.

“You’d make such pretty babies, sweetie.” One said, squeezing his arm. “You’ve grown up so fast, honey.” Added the other, giving him a knowing look that practically lit a fire under his baby fever. Finn’s eyes widened, he gulped, and suddenly he was completely unmasked; every inch of him daydreaming about you holding his future little babies.

By the time lunch rolled around, you were sitting across from him at the long table. Finn’s aunt had allowed you to try feeding the baby, and you were holding a bottle delicately, laughing at the baby’s hiccups. Finn couldn’t focus on the food in front of him; all he could see was you. Every little movement you made, tilting the bottle, wiping the baby’s chin, brushing a stray hair from it's face, was searing into his brain.

Meanwhile, his uncles, sitting nearby and nursing beers, notice his wandering gaze. They were the type of macho, teasing, slightly inappropriate men who found Finn’s distraction absolutely hilarious.

“You planning to have kids soon, buddy?” One of them asked with a smirk, watching him stiffen. “Yeah… With her?” Another chimed in, nodding toward you while Finn almost choked on his drink.

Finn shoved them gently but couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him, completely embarrassed while his chest tightened with baby-fever panic. You looked up, giggling at the baby’s antics, completely oblivious to the storm brewing across the table.

Nick leaned over, whispering loud enough for only Finn to hear. “Bro… She’s amazing with them. You’re so doomed.”

Finn’s jaw tightened, a hand gripping the table under it, his mind spiraling in flustered, chaotic, “We’re too young… But we could…” thoughts, while the uncles’ smirks, aunts’ cooing, and Nick’s teasing all conspired to push him over the edge into full-blown baby fever.

By dessert, Finn was practically squirming in his seat, unable to focus on anything except the way you were holding that baby; how gentle your hands were, how soft your voice sounded, how… Perfect it all looked. He kept glancing at you, muttering low, almost inaudible things to himself like. “We’d be… Good parents… Right?” While his family around him continued their loud, chaotic, teasing commentary.

And you? Completely unaware of the volcano of feelings Finn was hiding, happily cooing at the baby, your hands brushing against his across the table accidentally, making him almost combust from a combination of lust, admiration, and raging baby fever.