If there’s one thing you just don’t understand, is monogamy.
Dave is, as usual, snoring softly next to you. One of his arms is draped over your chest, the other curled up against his body, and you have an arm behind his head, fingers idly scratching his scalp. His head lays gently over your right shoulder and part of your chest.
On your left side, almost mirroring his younger brother’s position, Dirk breathes quietly. His head rests over your free shoulder, his left arm lays over your bare stomach and his right arm got snuggled up between your bodies, a task almost impossible due to his muscled arms.
On the bottom of the bed lies a comfortable tangle of legs and feet, sharing heat and trading unconscious kicks every now and then; long and skinny, toned and hairy, gangly and smooth, tanned and pale, put together like pieces on a puzzle.
It’s a cute and endearing sight, and it’s an unspoken reminder of just how close the three of you are, even though there’s still an important pair missing. No need to fret, though; they’ll join yours soon enough.
You keep petting both blond heads, watching the eerie moonlight on the ceiling and listening to their slow heartbeats, barely awake.
Twenty minutes later you hear the door downstairs opening and closing, the familiar jingle of keys, the soothing sound of footsteps.
The bedroom door is slightly ajar, and you watch as your dad pushes it as silently as possible. He peeks inside to make sure everyone’s still asleep, and you turn your head at him, smiling tiredly and mouthing “hi”.
He smiles back, entering the precinct and sliding the door shut with a low “click”. He removes his outfit, every article of clothing being placed one by one on their respective places, and when he’s down only to his briefs he climbs onto the bed.
He settles next to Dave, taking his rightful place as the big spoon. Dave pretty much purrs in his sleep, shifting a bit as your dad wraps a hairy and muscled arm around his middle, pulling him close. Dave tightens his grip onto your chest but allows himself to be spooned. You smile.
“How was your day?” he whispers so softly that Dave’s snores make it almost impossible for you to hear him. His grey eyes are half open, a calm smile over his lips.
A bit of stubble is already showing from his long day of work. You like it; makes him look more mature; older, if you’d like, but in a good way.
“Pretty good. Yours?” you inquire, and he hums contently, hiding his face on Dave’s hair.
“Tiring as always. I missed you boys a lot.”
“I missed you too.” You admit, reaching for his short black hair and combing your fingers through it. He leans a little into the touch to let you know he’s enjoying it. “We all did.”
“I’m glad.” He says, voice a lot slower, a sign that he’s already drifting off to sleep. “I’m... really...”
“Go to sleep, dad.” You whisper, and he murmurs something unintelligible before his expression softens to something a lot more serene.
He falls asleep not much after, and you keep watching him breathe steadily for about fifteen minutes before tiredness finally grabs a hold of you and forces you to join your beloved family.
You can’t possibly see yourself alone, nor could you ever choose only one of them; you figured a while ago that you have enough room in your life and heart to keep all of them, and thanks to some lucky star, thanks to some crazy miracle, they all feel the same way. They all love you too, and you all love each other, and you make sure that everyone’s happy, that everyone’s safe and comfortable and in peace, every single day without fail.
You sleep with a smile on your lips and a bubbly feeling in your chest.
You’d never want your life in any other way.