a wish that came true twice

i'm not the man they think i am at home

Remi lets out a low chuckle at Ronin’s response, nodding solemnly as though his husband has just delivered a piece of profound strategic wisdom rather than a simple refusal to tempt Vai’s more creative disciplinary methods while he was Leafchange-y.

He shifts closer as Ronin stands ready, the impending twin exchange already threatening to become a logistical puzzle of limbs and tentacles. One curls up to wiggle its tip in front of the baby’s face in what Remi hopes is a sufficiently fascinating display while another gently steadies the bottle that has been so vigorously rejected. The manoeuvre gives him just enough distraction to attempt the handoff, but the moment the babies change arms the one now pressed against Remi’s chest opens his mouth and releases a screech that feels almost impressively loud for such a small creature.

Remi closes his eyes briefly and tilts his head back toward the ceiling of the Northaven as though the wooden beams might contain some ancient parental wisdom he has yet to discover. "Maybe we should stick them back in dirt," he says thoughtfully after a moment before shrugging one shoulder and glancing down again at the squalling infant now clinging to his shirt with determined little fingers. "Maybe they miss it somehow."