sylus x reader | sylus & his family | fluff, cute sylus, messy drunk kieran, amused mama, angst (huh?? what??), comfort (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)
tw: vomiting, inebriation, pregnancy, mentions of abandonment
sylus is just a little buzzed.
is what he first told you when he walked in through the front door with the slightest of wobbles. immensely noticeable knowing his usual, confident and unshakable stride.
you don’t hear.
kieran, trailing behind him, is a lot more far gone on his brother’s shoulder. you tend to him first, missing the slower movements of sylus’s arms raising to greet you and sidestepping him completely.
“gotta clean up puke in the car,” luke says. he seems unaffected by the evening’s outcomes, in fact begrudging the night now entirely. “kier’s a pig. worst birthday ever.”
you nod and take kieran’s limp arm and slump it around your shoulders, as if your frame would be enough to support his dead weight. he hiccups, “ma, i frew up…”
“i know, kier, it’s okay.” you pat his cheek and start the shuffle-walk towards a surface he can rest on.
you barely make it a few steps before the weight is lifted off your shoulders and kieran is hoisted up and over sylus’s shoulder.
“sy—“
he grunts, lumbering into the living room and tossing kieran on a couch haphazardly. kieran groans but slumps like dirty laundry over the arm rest.
then sylus returns, a willow hovering over you with limp limbs and a head hung low. you reach up to touch his face, feverish against your palm, and frown. “you didn’t puke too, did yo—!”
his shoulder muffles the rest of what you have to say, smelling fruity and tangy from his choice of alcohol, as he presses his forehead to your neck. “just buzzed.”
his arms circle your frame, larger now with the little heartbeats growing stronger in you, and you’re enveloped in his warmth. slightly off, but just as meaningful.
“papa’s just buzzed.” he whispers to your ear, and it tickles.
“looks like papa doesn’t know how to hold his alcohol.” you tease. you should have warned the twins that sylus is a poor drinking buddy when it comes to the harder fun drinks the youths tend to order.
but you couldn’t crush their drinking with dad dreams, especially now— in this time of sylus’s life—he takes pride in the title more than ever.
sylus was reluctant, not because he didn’t want to indulge, but you’ve just entered your second trimester and he’s been loathe to leave you since… well, since the announcement.
you teased him about being clingy, he whined in the privacy of your bedroom to your baby bump. tattling to your child how mama is keeping him and them apart.
but eventually, he caved and brought the unmasked twins to one of his more private speakeasy’s. which then, maybe escalated into something more neon and bouncy, you aren’t sure. the state of kieran tells you so much and so little all at once.
“i can!” sylus protests.
“f—ck! i gotta fy-ook!” kieran hiccups behind you in distress.
when you start to rush to find something to catch it, sylus holds you in place. you hiss at him. “sy! it’s gonna get on the carpet.”
“luke will clean it.”
you push him away just enough for him to tube-man upright. but kieran has already found a vase and stuck his face into it, now hurling accordingly.
“see?” sylus slurs. “my kids are smart.”
kieran’s dry heaves echo into the hollow artifact and trigger your own reflexes. suddenly, your stomach isn’t feeling so well. you pry away the corded muscles around your waist and sprint to the bathroom.
outside, amidst the chaos, sylus is bellowing. “kieran, look what you’ve done!”
and kieran is wailing, “i’m sorry! i’m s—orry!”
“ohh, i’m going to kill you.” luke returns just in time to witness his twin’s mess into the vase.
sylus is there, standing like a stunned specter when you emerge from the bathroom door. he blinks a few times like he’s rebooting before he places both hands on your cheeks. “are you okay?”
“yes,” you say kindly, stroking his ring fingers with your thumbs. “don’t yell at them.”
“okay.” he nods, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing. “sorry.”
he turns his head and yells into the hallway. “sorry!”
“s’okay, dad.” luke calls back, tired.
“we love you, dad!” kieran cries, voice crackly and strained.
sylus grins, goofy and loopy, chuckling once and slowly turning back to you. “i like being dad.”
you smile at him. it’s been such a time since you’ve seen him drunk, and the last time wasn’t nearly as tame as this. tonight he’s just… happy and cute.
“do you hear me?” he asks, pressing his nose to your bump as he falls to his knees. “i love being your dad.”
“he isn’t even out yet.” you laugh, nails against his scalp that make him melt further onto you.
“doesn’t matter.” he murmurs, peppering kisses over what he believes is the little’s foot. “i’m dad. m’papa.”
he clings to you and snuggles his face into your belly when you sit among your boys in the living room. there, you laugh as luke paints you a picture of their night. how the speakeasy didn’t escalate into a full party, rather a case of your husband’s singing bug.
“boss sang like, seven songs.” luke says, and you laugh when sylus groans into your side. sedated only by your gentle caresses through his hair. “then, a gooey duet with kieran.”
“on the wings of love is a classic and you’re a—hic— pleb for not knowing it.” kieran interjects.
luke ignores him, still upset about cleaning up after his brother twice. “they sang through, like, three bottles of brandy.”
“and sum’beer.” adds kieran. “soo fun.”
“not fun.” grumps about luke.
sylus pouts against you. “you guys said you like it when i’m fun.”
“bossss,” kieran sings. “you were awesome. i will never—hic— ever—hic— ever forget tonight.”
luke watches his brother warily, but then softens when he looks back at sylus. “he’s right. tonight was pretty sick, boss.”
“dad.” sylus corrects, his voice now a grumble teetering towards unconsciousness. “i’m a dad—a’papa.”
“a’papa!” kieran responds enthusiastically, as if sylus had just recited a psalm. he closes his eyes and murmurs it to himself happily over and over.
“i think a’papa needs to go to bed.” you say, brushing back sylus’s hair from his eyes to see them closed. his mouth now slightly ajar too as his breathing steadies.
kieran’s echos fade too shortly after, and soon turn to soft snores.
only you and luke are left awake to witness the crackle of the dying fire in its hearth.
quietly, you ask. “why didn’t you drink?”
luke clicked his tongue and took a while. “i did.”
“but?”
he twists to retrieve a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. its crinkles sounding solemn as it is placed gently into your hands.
you give him a curious look as he sits back and waves for you to open it.
in big, bold, elegant font, it reads:
CERTIFICATE OF LIVE BIRTH
秦薛明 — Lucas Qin
luke turns shy when you look back at him. suddenly, his fingernails have turned interesting that it needs all of his attention.
“i hope you don’t mind.” is the first thing he utters and you are appalled at his words. “or he discussed it with you. we don’t expect you to think of us as yours, but we—we’d love to be part of the fa…”
his voice trails away when you plop yourself beside him and wrap him in a tender embrace. “of course you’re mine.”
he sniffles for the first time since you’ve known him. you don’t dare to look. but he leans his head towards you and swallows. “i didn’t want to forget.
“i didn’t want to wake up and maybe think… it was all a dream.”
all their lives— such hard and painful ones— they never had more than the other. never been wanted. never belonged.
at the gift presented to them, once pristine in the folders sylus had meticulously placed the parchment in, luke and kieran felt as if they had been killed, burned and reborn anew.
unmasked. with a face. with a name.
after years of always pausing by the door and waiting by the barrier, never did they think that they would be invited in.
and that will always be there to haunt them, the idea of being impostors in places they aren’t supposed to be in. where they think they fit, but their reality is bathed in delusion they would blame on their nonexistent childhood.
but now written, they will have something to tell them it’s all true.
“happy birthday.” you kiss his temple. he freezes at the affection, at the difference it makes coming from someone other than his brother. from another member of the family.
and as if you knew what he needed to hear, you swear.
you swear as if it is known, written in the stars eons ago. indisputable by fate or anything brutal that makes its demands. a truth you have lived and remembered and etched into your bones. you swear,
“you’ve always been our sons.”
a kick against his elbow that rests just by your belly is all is needed for him to believe it.
thank you for reading! ❀(*´◡`*)❀
秦薛明 (Qin Xuē Míng) - luke’s chinese name + sylus’s last name
