Oh, Darlin', Don't You Ever Grow Up

Domestic Life Was Never Quite My Style

a/n: hi. im dying.

"You slept with a girl named Moss?" Percy asks, leaning over to peek at Will's paper. His own lays on the messy kitchen counter, writing messy and pointy. He looks over to Nico, who seems to be making out with their alcohol cabinet.

The smooth glass cabinet next to Nico is cold, and he's pressing his burning forehead and eyes to it, leaving greasy marks. He's the epitome of stress. His hair is somehow more unmade and messy than usual, the bags under his eyes more prominent, and his usually pale skin looks like it's been through a meat mincer then dyed in white paint. He looks anorexic.

Will looks even worse. His hair, usually roughly combed and parted at the side, is sticking up from everywhere, unkempt, and his shirt is inside-out. He has to go to work, soon, and they'll be left to fend for themselves against the baby. As shameful as it is to admit, Will is the only remotely responsible and capable one out of them. Of course, he masters changing diapers within a night, and no longer gags as much, and of course he knows how much baby powder to add and how to open the packet so that they don't end up covered in said powder. Without him, they're hopeless, and he's probably going to be leaving in half an hour.

"Moss uses they," Will says, corrects him pushing him off, "And I dated them for, like, two months until we realized we were probably better off as friends,"

"You slept with a girl named Emily?" Percy chooses to bother Nico instead.

"I dont' know. She said I was to call her Emily," Nico shrugs.

The child is quiet, as of now, and they're running on two hours of sleep and concerning amounts of coffee.

He looks at his own, oddly long list, and sighs, "This is going to suck the life out of me,"

The baby starts shrieking, and a foul smell fills the room.

"Fuck."

*-*

Nico huffs as he places the pile of laundry on his hip, feeling like a Victorian woman. The baby stares at him, sucking on a plastic spoon he'd given to her.

"You see this?" he gestures to the laundry, "Yeah, this is all your fault,"

She giggles.

He sets the laundry for the umpteenth time that day, it seems like the pile of dirty clothes is never-ending. He's nearly finished when she starts crying, again.

He throws his head back and groans, fisting his hair in his palms as he pulls at the strands.

"What do you want ?"

The baby cries, then pukes on her newly washed and bought onesie. Nico holds back a sob.

She's still crying, and he comes over, stripping her of the soiled onesie. His nose is dead, nostrils no longer feeling horrified. He's been with her for around a day and he's already lost his ability to smell.

She stares at him for a minute, and he huffs.

"You fucking demon,"

She laughs.

He hoists her little body up, making his way to the washroom, setting her down gently. The sink is big enough for his purpose, he doesn't waste his time going to the bathtub. He washes her, water, soap, water, rubbing.

She giggles when bubbles start to form.

"Oh, the little devil likes bubbles, does she?"

She smacks one.

"Bop," he says, popping one on her stomach. She stares at him, shocked, then starts looking for where it is.

"Bop, boop, beep," Three more down, and she's staring at him dumbfounded.

He laughs, amused. "Wanna see somehting better?" He grabs the soap from next to her, then flies it past her ear, dropping it into his other hand and hiding it behind his back as quickly as he can.

She stares, then turns, looking for it. She stares at him again, shock evident, and he laughs. "Babies are so stupid,"

He washes the soap off, and dries her up, making sure he's gentle. What if he ends up scratching her? Or giving her a rash by not using the right powder? Or-

She smacks his arm, bringing him back to reality.

"Okay, fine,"

He picks her up, putting on a new diaper before dressing her in one of the many clothes Percy has bought for her.

She curls up, surrounded by blankets on the king-sized bed, and slowly drifts off. He sits there next to her, folding clothes and watching her like a stone church gargoyle. She's a horrible, insufferable, monster, he decides, but she's cute. Sometimes.

*-* 

At the end of the day, Percy has no luck. Will's already called Moss, and they laughed at him, thinking he was joking, then scoffed when he said he was being honest.

'I didn't leave my kid at your doorstep, Solace, now fuck off,'

They hope Nico's had more luck than them.

"I don't know what to do, honestly," Will says as he parks the car.

"I feel bad for the kid, but we didn't sign up for this. I don't want to be a parent, and we don't even know whose kid it is,"

"Hey," Will reaches out, patting Percy on the back, "It'll be okay,"

"You say that," Percy says, sighing as he gets out of the car and walks into their building, "but what gaurantee do we have?"

"We've survived everything, right? We'll survive this," Will presses the button tired already.

The lift dings, signalling its approach, and they climb in. "What do you think they're doing?" Percy asks absentmindedly. Will is staring at the mark on his cheek and the dirt on his shirt.

"What?"

"What're you...oh. Today didn't go well,"

"Did she shit on you?"

"No, it's fertilizer, and not she, he,"

"What? Ferti-nevermind,"

The lift stops, and they share a glance of fear. They know what's awaiting them, dirty diapers and puke. They inch towards the door, dread pooling in their stomachs.

"Let's do it," Percy says, and Will nods, bracing himself as he opens the door.

They're met with the sight of the baby sleeping, wrapped in Nico's arms, who's also sleeping. A surprisingly domestic scene, not as chaotic as expected.