It's the middle of the night when Sunyoung starts crying. Her cries are high pitched wails piercing through cold 3AM air, and Kyungsoo awakens to a Jongin dead to their daughter's distress.

'Jongin. Jongin wake up, it's your turn to feed her,' mumbles Kyungsoo, nudging a bony elbow into his husband's side. 'Jongin, c'mon...' he says, burrowing into Jongin's chest, hoping his husband's ticklish enough to wake up.

'Why's... She... Sad....' Jongin murmurs, eyes still closed. It's the second night in a row that he's been on milk duty, and he wouldn't complain, except for the fact that he's got deadlines looming and not enough sleep. But he knows Kyungsoo's got one too many cake orders on his hands, and he supposes taking care of baby Sunyoung is the least he can do for his husband.

'She needs to be fed. I made a bottle before bed, just heat it,' Kyungsoo mumbles. He whines a little when Jongin pulls away, but it's okay, he supposes, because their daughter needs her daddy.

Half an hour passes and there's still no sign of Jongin back in bed, so Kyungsoo properly cracks his eyes open and the sight he sees is so heart warming he feels himself getting overwhelmed. Jongin's got Sunyoung in his arms, a pillow underneath her on the couch in their bedroom, his eyes shut, his head lolling. Kyungsoo chuckles to himself before he gets up to put Sunyoung back in her crib, pulling Jongin into bed.

Back when Jongin had first proposed, Kyungsoo didn't think he could have been any more in love with him, thought it impossible. Now, with the image of his husband holding their daughter clear in his mind, he thinks he's never been so happy to have been so wrong.