[ Matthew doesn't really remember his dreams, if he, as a dream himself, even has any. But today he wakes up with a smile on his face and a warm fluttering in his chest, like he might have had a particularly pleasant one. Noah is curled up against him, his head on Matthew's shoulder. Matthew can smell his hair, and for a minute or two, that's all he thinks about, sighing contentedly.
Then something moves in the crook of his other arm, something small and warm and soft. He frowns a little, cracks open one eye finally, and-- ]
Holy shhhi-- Noah. Noah.
[ So much for waking up slowly. Pins and needles stab at his arm as he tries to shake Noah awake too, perhaps a bit rudely, but, well. The situation seems to call for it. ]
[The noise seems to stir Noah, but his instincts fight against reason, and he just presses his face against Matthew's neck. He's warm and drowsy, the sheets are soft, and he doesn't have any meetings today. Matthew probably just wants to show him a cool bird outside, which would normally get his attention, but it can't even be seven yet.]
[ Okay Noah, you are no help at all. Normally Matthew is fine with these lazy morning cuddles but there is a baby, there is a human child in his arm and they do not have a human child.
Oh god, they drank last night, with dinner. Did they get drunk and kidnap a baby? No, no-- that's stupid. Matthew did get tipsy and pull Noah into his lap and tried to count his freckles (not for the first time) (his record is twenty-three) (usually he forgets where he is or loses count or gets distracted by something else) (last night it was the last one) but the point is they definitely didn't kidnap a baby so why is this one sleeping on him?? ]
Noah, [ he tries again, staring wide-eyed at the tiny little thing in his arm. When that doesn't work he folds the little baby closer to his chest and shrugs Noah right off of him, rolling him into the pillow so Matthew can sit up and stare some more. The baby opens its eyes when he moves and holyyy shit, those are Noah's eyes. Those are Noah's eyes, and--
Matthew feels himself seized by an abrupt, irreversible attachment to this tiny person. ]
Edited (I just changed my mind about wording... AND THEN I FOUND A TYPO I'm sorry) 2016-07-02 13:58 (UTC)
[The movement finally rouses Noah, and he opens one eye right as Matthew calls his name again.]
Whassimerrr?
[Read: What's the matter?
Through the heavy haze of sleep, he finally realizes that something isn't quite right. Matthew's too still, too tense. The first fingers of sunlight are starting to creep through their blinds, and as he lifts up on one elbow, he follows them down to the object of his husband's apparent alarm.
A tiny head of duck-down hair, peeking over Matthew's chest.]
... That's a baby.
[His mind whirs into motion. Did they somehow manage to steal a baby last night? He certainly doesn't remember it. In fact, he's pretty sure they just drank wine and watched baby animal videos and kissed a lot. Nothing that would explain the acquisition of an actual human baby.]
[ Except that he's falling in love and it's been like two minutes; this is even faster than he fell in love with their dog. (And definitely faster than he fell in love with Noah, but he was pretty dumb about Noah for a while.) ]
But just-- look at her.
[ He shifts a little, the sheets twisting around his waist as he turns and leans towards Noah, cradling the tiny baby in his huge arms. He doesn't want to look away from her. ]
[Oh, he's looking at her. He is definitely looking at her now, and his eyes are getting wider and wider. If he was still sleepy moments ago, he's certainly alert now, his heart beginning to patter in his throat. He can't tell if it's panic, or excitement.]
Matthew.
[A hard swallow. He reaches over, but his hand stops short. The baby gurgles at him, her perfect little cheeks dimpling. She has Matthew's dimples.]
[He wants to look at Matthew, to see the honesty in his eyes and know that this is real - but he can't stop staring at that tiny face. Somehow, he already believes it. He can see Matthew in the dimples, and in the smile, but looking into her eyes is like meeting his baby sisters again for the first time.
Only, this isn't Adele or Miryam.]
... Did she come from your dreams?
[His voice is filled with tentative awe. He's not sure how quickly to let himself fall. Matthew's never had any power like this before, and this has the taste of a wonderful, fleeting dream. Part of him feels that if he touched her, she would disappear into the air.]
[ Matthew laughs again, and tips his head to rests his cheek on Noah's hair. His tone is a little teasing. ]
I can't do that. That's Ronan's thing.
[ It is definitely Ronan's thing. It's been Ronan's thing for-- well, at least since Ronan was three. There's no reason that Matthew can think of why he'd be able to do the same thing. He doesn't even remember his dreams.
She's here, like a perfect little gift, and he doesn't feel the need to question it. ]
[Between his skeptical confusion and his breathless wonderment, Noah can't seem to form an answer. So, silently, he reaches forward and takes the tiny little thing in his arms.
It isn't like holding Adele or Miryam. It isn't like it at all, because this baby is so tiny, and her skin is soft and feels like sunshine, and immediately Noah can feel his chest clenching up with the sort of white-hot adoration he thought only came from looking at Matthew on a sunny, lazy morning.]
... She's ours. [He doesn't mean to say anything, but it slips out, matter-of-fact and barely above a whisper.] She's ours?
[It should be harder to believe, but Matthew's a dream and Noah's on his second life, and the bundle of sunlight in his arms belongs to both of them.]
She's got your eyes, [ Matthew points out in answer to the question as he slips an arm around Noah's back, gently tugging him closer. Noah may be holding her, but Matthew wants to hold them both.
Family.
The word brushes his mind and his smile threatens to take over his whole face. The baby wiggles a little in Noah's arms, gives another gurgle, and Matthew laughs again, wildly happy. He presses a sloppy little kiss to Noah's temple and then turns back to the baby, too full of joy to be still. ]
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no subject
Then something moves in the crook of his other arm, something small and warm and soft. He frowns a little, cracks open one eye finally, and-- ]
Holy shhhi-- Noah. Noah.
[ So much for waking up slowly. Pins and needles stab at his arm as he tries to shake Noah awake too, perhaps a bit rudely, but, well. The situation seems to call for it. ]
no subject
Hnm-nhn.
[Read: Take a picture of it.]
no subject
Oh god, they drank last night, with dinner. Did they get drunk and kidnap a baby? No, no-- that's stupid. Matthew did get tipsy and pull Noah into his lap and tried to count his freckles (not for the first time) (his record is twenty-three) (usually he forgets where he is or loses count or gets distracted by something else) (last night it was the last one) but the point is they definitely didn't kidnap a baby so why is this one sleeping on him?? ]
Noah, [ he tries again, staring wide-eyed at the tiny little thing in his arm. When that doesn't work he folds the little baby closer to his chest and shrugs Noah right off of him, rolling him into the pillow so Matthew can sit up and stare some more. The baby opens its eyes when he moves and holyyy shit, those are Noah's eyes. Those are Noah's eyes, and--
Matthew feels himself seized by an abrupt, irreversible attachment to this tiny person. ]
no subject
Whassimerrr?
[Read: What's the matter?
Through the heavy haze of sleep, he finally realizes that something isn't quite right. Matthew's too still, too tense. The first fingers of sunlight are starting to creep through their blinds, and as he lifts up on one elbow, he follows them down to the object of his husband's apparent alarm.
A tiny head of duck-down hair, peeking over Matthew's chest.]
... That's a baby.
[His mind whirs into motion. Did they somehow manage to steal a baby last night? He certainly doesn't remember it. In fact, he's pretty sure they just drank wine and watched baby animal videos and kissed a lot. Nothing that would explain the acquisition of an actual human baby.]
no subject
[ Matthew's voice is hushed, awed. ]
I have no idea what's happening.
[ Except that he's falling in love and it's been like two minutes; this is even faster than he fell in love with their dog. (And definitely faster than he fell in love with Noah, but he was pretty dumb about Noah for a while.) ]
But just-- look at her.
[ He shifts a little, the sheets twisting around his waist as he turns and leans towards Noah, cradling the tiny baby in his huge arms. He doesn't want to look away from her. ]
no subject
Matthew.
[A hard swallow. He reaches over, but his hand stops short. The baby gurgles at him, her perfect little cheeks dimpling. She has Matthew's dimples.]
Wh- Whose baby is this?
no subject
I think she's ours.
[ He's totally serious, totally elated. It's impossible, or at least they have no explanation whatsoever, but Matthew hardly seems to notice that. ]
Noah, look, I think she's ours.
[ He finally takes his eyes off of her to give Noah a ridiculous grin. ]
no subject
Only, this isn't Adele or Miryam.]
... Did she come from your dreams?
[His voice is filled with tentative awe. He's not sure how quickly to let himself fall. Matthew's never had any power like this before, and this has the taste of a wonderful, fleeting dream. Part of him feels that if he touched her, she would disappear into the air.]
no subject
[ Matthew laughs again, and tips his head to rests his cheek on Noah's hair. His tone is a little teasing. ]
I can't do that. That's Ronan's thing.
[ It is definitely Ronan's thing. It's been Ronan's thing for-- well, at least since Ronan was three. There's no reason that Matthew can think of why he'd be able to do the same thing. He doesn't even remember his dreams.
She's here, like a perfect little gift, and he doesn't feel the need to question it. ]
You want to hold her?
no subject
It isn't like holding Adele or Miryam. It isn't like it at all, because this baby is so tiny, and her skin is soft and feels like sunshine, and immediately Noah can feel his chest clenching up with the sort of white-hot adoration he thought only came from looking at Matthew on a sunny, lazy morning.]
... She's ours. [He doesn't mean to say anything, but it slips out, matter-of-fact and barely above a whisper.] She's ours?
[It should be harder to believe, but Matthew's a dream and Noah's on his second life, and the bundle of sunlight in his arms belongs to both of them.]
no subject
Family.
The word brushes his mind and his smile threatens to take over his whole face. The baby wiggles a little in Noah's arms, gives another gurgle, and Matthew laughs again, wildly happy. He presses a sloppy little kiss to Noah's temple and then turns back to the baby, too full of joy to be still. ]
Look at how small her feet are.