Apologies, OP. I know this isn’t what you had in mind. But my little nieces and nephews were in visiting for the holidays, and I just totally flew in the opposite direction and couldn’t stop.
Um… sorry? At least it’s cute?
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Haytham carefully lays his infant son down on the changing table, eases the soft blue sweatpants down, and starts unsnapping the diaper. Connor lets out a quiet sound that stills Haytham’s hands and makes a lump lodge in his throat.
Did Connor just… giggle?
Haytham gently (so gently, because Connor was so tiny and delicate) wriggles his fingers along Connor’s sides.
Connor giggle-squeals again, then wriggles and grins up at Haytham.
Haytham grins back, quickly changes the diaper, and proceeds to try and find every single ticklish spot Connor has.
Which is why, twenty minutes later, Ziio finds Haytham and their son on the floor. Connor is on his back, belly-laughing so hard he’s snorting, and Haytham is hovering over him, blowing raspberries on his stomach.
Ziio sighs and can’t find it in herself to be irritated. “I was wondering what was taking so long. Dinner’s ready.”
Haytham clears his throat, sits up, and tries to look dignified. Which is hard when you’ve blown so many raspberries on a baby belly that you’ve drooled on yourself. “Yes, sorry, we got a little distracted.”
“Mm?” Ziio raises one brow, folds her arms, and leans against the doorway.
“He started—laughing,” Haytham tries to explain. “I was just—trying to find out where he was ticklish.”
“Ah,” is Ziio’s only response.
Haytham squirms a bit under her gaze. “He likes when you blow raspberries on his belly.”
“I see.” Ziio comes further into the room and kneels down so she’s across from Haytham, with Connor between them.
Connor squirms, much like his father just had, and looks between them with a wide smile.
“He likes raspberries on his feet too,” Ziio supplies helpfully, playfully snatching up one of Connor’s feet and blowing a soft ‘thbbblllt’ to the bottom of it.
Connor grins and giggles quietly, then looks at Haytham.
“Oh my, it seems he has two feet.” Haytham catches the other, flailing leg. “One for each of us.”
And with that, Haytham and Ziio playfully attack two tiny baby feet with kisses and raspberries, much to Connor’s shrieking, giggling, delight.
Snippet of a Fill
Um… sorry? At least it’s cute?
--------------------------------
Haytham carefully lays his infant son down on the changing table, eases the soft blue sweatpants down, and starts unsnapping the diaper. Connor lets out a quiet sound that stills Haytham’s hands and makes a lump lodge in his throat.
Did Connor just… giggle?
Haytham gently (so gently, because Connor was so tiny and delicate) wriggles his fingers along Connor’s sides.
Connor giggle-squeals again, then wriggles and grins up at Haytham.
Haytham grins back, quickly changes the diaper, and proceeds to try and find every single ticklish spot Connor has.
Which is why, twenty minutes later, Ziio finds Haytham and their son on the floor. Connor is on his back, belly-laughing so hard he’s snorting, and Haytham is hovering over him, blowing raspberries on his stomach.
Ziio sighs and can’t find it in herself to be irritated. “I was wondering what was taking so long. Dinner’s ready.”
Haytham clears his throat, sits up, and tries to look dignified. Which is hard when you’ve blown so many raspberries on a baby belly that you’ve drooled on yourself. “Yes, sorry, we got a little distracted.”
“Mm?” Ziio raises one brow, folds her arms, and leans against the doorway.
“He started—laughing,” Haytham tries to explain. “I was just—trying to find out where he was ticklish.”
“Ah,” is Ziio’s only response.
Haytham squirms a bit under her gaze. “He likes when you blow raspberries on his belly.”
“I see.” Ziio comes further into the room and kneels down so she’s across from Haytham, with Connor between them.
Connor squirms, much like his father just had, and looks between them with a wide smile.
“He likes raspberries on his feet too,” Ziio supplies helpfully, playfully snatching up one of Connor’s feet and blowing a soft ‘thbbblllt’ to the bottom of it.
Connor grins and giggles quietly, then looks at Haytham.
“Oh my, it seems he has two feet.” Haytham catches the other, flailing leg. “One for each of us.”
And with that, Haytham and Ziio playfully attack two tiny baby feet with kisses and raspberries, much to Connor’s shrieking, giggling, delight.