Quiet of family

by bblamentation

Summary:

They are two young fathers and Yujin watches in a warmth of family.

Notes:

I don't know what this is or what's happening here...

As dusk began to drift behind the fog of London, a small quiet settled in the home of 221B. It had taken a significant time of feeding, gushing, and gentle rocking before young Iris fell asleep in Herlock’s arms. She was so quiet against his chest, it was hard to imagine she had only just been wailing and crying. Only as Yujin had rushed over with a warm bottle of milk and Herlock had tried to rock her in his arms had she settled.

Yujin would have suggested Herlock set her down in her cot as she slumbered but the slumped shoulders of his partner gave him pause. Outstretched and lax, Herlock was seated on the loveseat sofa, cradling. He almost looked asleep with his head dipped, tucking his own chin into a lull. But he was awake with an unusual stillness and quietness he tried to match the breathing of the sleeping child; all to not wake her.

As they were tucked into one another, Yujin could not help but watch with a fondness at and for them. Just as Herlock quietened to let young Iris rest, Yujin had done the same so many years ago—and so often. He was a father himself. Of course, as Iris was so pink and newborn, Yujin could not help think of his own daughter so far from the warmth here but so close to his heart.

In his own study and scattered in the littered apartment, photos his mother had sent were gifts. There was not a favourite amongst the photos, for there was a love amongst them all, but the one framed was always the most recently dated. So close to the father-daughter model on the sofa, the glossed photo of spring sat by the fireplace. Warm. Cherry blossoms bloomed in a pink snow, adorning his family. Family he had not seen in a long time but family he thought always of. Centred in the middle of the photo holding the hand of his mother was his own daughter, dear Susato. She wore a grown expression of a smile, one Yujin missed.

And yet, he did not feel deprived. If Herlock looked over to his partner he would have seen the small soft smile. Whether that was for the family in London or for the family in Japan, Yujin was holding on. He had had to depart from his daughter in a sombre haste before, so long ago. And again he would have to say goodbye at one point; it was inevitable yet unspoken. But it was always a thought pushed for another time, a later date.

In just a look to the blonde and the child on the sofa, Yujin was pulled. He was wrapped in this world. But it was not this world; it was his world. The ease and strength of the life he had made in the apartment of London could not be lost.

He paused. He breathed.

Yujin stepped over to the two and placed a warm hand on his partner’s shoulder. When Herlock did look to him—to see that soft smile—Yujin slid hid hand to the back of his neck, leaning in. At first he teased, with his medical professionality that Herlock would strain his neck if he so slept in such a position. Then he pressed a kiss on his forehead, beckoning him to a bed, softer and warmer.

With care and caution they eventually eased young Iris into her cot, wishing her rest, despite knowing she would wake a few more times in the night.