♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
The first cry shattered the quiet night.
You stirred slightly, blinking blearily at the clock—3:12 AM. The baby monitor glowed softly beside the bed, echoing Han’s tiny, hiccuping wails.
Before you could even shift to get up, Heeseung was already moving.
"Go back to sleep, babe," he murmured, voice thick with sleep, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. "I got him."
You let your eyes flutter shut again, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you down, but not before seeing Heeseung’s broad back disappearing into the hallway, his steps quiet but sure.
Heeseung sighed, rubbing his eyes as he pushed open the nursery door.
Han’s tiny face was scrunched in frustration, his little fists curled tightly, legs kicking against the crib mattress.
"Shhh, Han-ah," Heeseung whispered, already scooping his son up with practiced ease. Han’s cries stuttered for a moment, then picked up again in weak little whimpers as Heeseung cradled him close.
"Okay, okay," he soothed, bouncing him gently. "I know, baby. You’re not happy right now, huh?"
Han only responded with a sniffly little hiccup, nuzzling into his dad’s chest, his tiny fingers clutching the fabric of Heeseung’s sleep shirt.
Heeseung sighed, exhaustion clinging to his limbs, but the moment he felt that small weight against him, something deep in his chest melted.
"Guess we’re staying up together now, huh?"
Instead of heading back to bed, Heeseung made his way into the living room, his arms tightening around Han as he rocked him back and forth. The moonlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a silver glow across the hardwood floor.
Then, without thinking, Heeseung began to hum.
At first, it was a tune without a name—something gentle, soft, almost instinctual—a melody born from a place of pure love and exhaustion. But then, the notes started forming into something familiar.
I wanna hold you, just for a minute…
The lyrics of "Polaroid Love" slipped past his lips in a whisper. His voice was low and tender as he slowly danced in the empty living room, his bare feet gliding across the cool floor.
Han sniffled against his shoulder, still fussy, but his cries had begun to fade into sleepy murmurs.
"You like that one, huh?" Heeseung chuckled softly, adjusting his grip so that Han’s tiny head rested perfectly against his chest. His palm rubbed soothing circles along his son’s back, matching the gentle sway of their movement.
The baby let out a deep sigh, his fingers slowly uncurling from Heeseung’s shirt.
"I used to sing this song all the time," he murmured, even though Han was too little to understand. "I didn’t know I’d ever sing it to you like this."
He turned in slow, easy steps, letting the soft glow of the streetlights outside bathe them in warmth.
"You know, Han-ah," he whispered, resting his cheek against the top of his son’s head, breathing him in, "one day, when you’re older, I’m gonna teach you how to dance. You’ll be the best little dancer, and all the girls at school will love you."
Han gave a tiny, contented sigh, completely relaxed in his father’s arms now, eyelashes fluttering against his chubby cheeks.
Heeseung smiled, pressing a delicate kiss to his baby’s forehead. His heart swelled with something so big and so overwhelmingly soft that he thought he might burst from it.
"Yeah," he whispered. "But no rush. Right now, you’re still my little baby."
And so, Heeseung kept rocking him under the moonlight, humming softly, dancing like they had all the time in the world.
The warmth of Heeseung’s arms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the softness of his quiet humming were enough to lull Han into a deep sleep. His little fingers twitched against his dad’s chest, his breaths coming in slow, even puffs.
Heeseung sighed in relief, shifting his weight slightly so he wouldn’t disturb the peaceful baby nestled in his arms.
"You finally knocked out, huh?" he whispered, smiling as he gently brushed a stray wisp of hair from Han’s forehead.
He turned his head slightly, only to find you standing in the hallway, watching them with a sleepy smile.
"You’re supposed to be sleeping, babe," he murmured, his voice still hushed.
"So are you," you teased, padding toward him. You reached out, gently running your fingers through Han’s soft hair before pressing a kiss to your husband’s shoulder.
Heeseung let out a soft chuckle, his free hand pulling you closer by the waist. "I tried putting him down," he admitted, his lips grazing your temple, "but you know how he is. Stubborn, just like his mama."
You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "He’s stubborn like you."
"Okay, maybe it’s a little bit of both of us," he conceded with a lazy smirk.
You leaned into him, resting your head against his arm as you both gazed down at Han, so tiny and peaceful in Heeseung’s hold.
"He loves you," you whispered after a moment.
Heeseung felt something tighten in his chest at your words.
It wasn’t like he didn’t already know it—Han had been attached to him from the second he was born, always clinging to his shirt, gripping his fingers, seeking out his warmth before anyone else’s.
But hearing you say it like that—soft, full of love—made it hit even deeper.
He pressed a lingering kiss to Han’s forehead, then another to the top of your head.
"I love him more," he murmured.
You smiled, nudging your nose against his shoulder. "I know you do."
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, wrapped in the quiet hum of the night, a family tucked into each other’s warmth.
Then Heeseung exhaled, tilting his head toward you with a soft grin.
"So, think we should risk putting him down?"
You glanced up at him, amused. "Oh, absolutely not. He’s gonna wake up the second you try."
Heeseung sighed dramatically, adjusting Han’s weight against his chest. "Guess I’m sleeping like this, then."
You giggled, placing your palm over his heart. "You say you wouldn’t hold him forever if you could."
Heeseung’s gaze softened. "You’re right," he admitted, rocking the baby gently. "I would."
And just like that, Han let out a tiny little sigh, his small hand uncurling to rest against Heeseung’s chest.
Your heart melted instantly.
Heeseung smirked. "See? He knows his daddy loves him."
You rolled your eyes playfully, though your smile never left your face. "C’mon, let’s go back to bed. You can keep holding him—I won’t even judge you."
"Wasn’t asking for permission," Heeseung teased, already making his way toward the bedroom, Han cradled securely in his arms.
And as the three of you curled up together beneath the warm covers, you realized something—
Midnight wake-ups, tired eyes, sore arms… none of it mattered.
Right here, wrapped in Heeseung’s warmth, your son sleeping peacefully between you—
This was precisely where you were meant to be.
The soft glow of the nightlight cast warm shadows across your bedroom walls. The only sound in the room was the quiet rustling of sheets as you and Heeseung climbed into bed—Han still nestled securely in his father’s arms.
Your gaze flickered to the bassinet beside your bed, its plush interior untouched.
"You know," you murmured, barely holding back a smile, "we bought that so he could sleep in it."
Heeseung glanced down at Han, his tiny body still curled into his chest, then back at you with a lazy smirk.
"Yeah, but look at him," he whispered, rubbing slow circles along Han’s back. "He’s comfortable like this. Right, baby?"
Han let out a soft sigh in his sleep as if agreeing, his tiny fingers gripping Heeseung’s shirt tighter.
You shook your head, laughing under your breath. "You’re such a pushover."
"And you’re not?" Heeseung shot back, quirking a brow. "You act like you weren’t just about to let him sleep on you if I hadn’t gotten up first."
You sighed in defeat, rolling onto your side to face them. "Maybe."
Heeseung chuckled, shifting carefully to lean back against the pillows. Han’s little body adjusted instinctively, his chubby cheek pressing against his dad’s chest, warm and safe.
You reached out, running your fingers through Han’s soft hair. "We should at least try putting him in the bassinet," you suggested, even though your heart was already screaming no.
Heeseung scoffed. "Yeah, and have him wake up the second I move?" He shook his head. "Not happening."
You bit back a giggle, watching as Heeseung tilted his head to press a slow, gentle kiss to Han’s forehead.
"Besides," he murmured, "he’s only this little once."
Something in his voice made your heart clench.
Han would outgrow this phase—these late-night cuddles, how he fit so perfectly in Heeseung’s arms, and how he clung to his daddy like he was in the safest place in the world.
One day, he’d be too big for this.
Right now, he was still your tiny baby boy.
You sighed, pressing yourself closer to Heeseung, your hand resting over his as it gently cradled Han.
"Fine," you whispered, smiling as your husband kissed your temple. "He wins tonight."
Heeseung chuckled softly. "He wins every night."
And with that, the three of you drifted off together, wrapped in warmth, love, and peace that only existed in moments like this.
The bassinet would have to wait another night.
