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Vegetta’s house was warm. It was large, too, a place Foolish could easily see becoming his home in the following months. The other man had done a thorough job of showing him around, ensuring that he knew where everything was and reminding him that he could use whatever he wanted.
Vegetta had done a bit of flaunting, too, displaying chests of enchanted armor, weapons, and precious gemstones. Foolish thumbed at the gold and emerald earring he had been given, pacing back and forth along the floor.
He had been poking at the fire for a while, ensuring it wouldn’t burn out as soon as he left it alone. His skin was growing uncomfortably dry with the lack of humidity in the air, but he didn’t dare go near the waterfall with the precious cargo he was carrying.
Leonardo sat in his arms, his head tucked into his father's shoulder as he dozed away. Foolish’s cap was slung backward over his dark hair, obscuring the kid’s eyes with how big it was on him.
He was lucky to be unaware of his father’s internal panic. Foolish didn’t know how to take care of a child. He could build pretty damn well and had an infinite source of grit and perseverance, but watching kids? Childcare was far different than creating dragons out of sandstone and deepslate. Foolish was starting to think he would rather try and create perfectly symmetrical wings on that build than deal with the situation he was stuck in.
Should he tuck the kid into bed?
Would that wake him up?
Would the fire make the room too hot?
What if it went out in the middle of the night and he got too cold?
Foolish had never considered himself a worrier, but that changed when another creature was in his care. Leonardo couldn’t survive the falls that his father could, couldn’t defend himself against hostile mobs and players alike. Who thought it would be a good idea to entrust the guy who spent days straight working on builds with a child? Hell, phantoms were practically a constant in his life at this point, as he never got enough sleep to ward them off.
His hands already itched for the feeling of blocks or a pickaxe in his hands, his subconscious longing to return to the hollow dragon he had abandoned. With a sigh, Foolish steeled himself and decidedly did not leave. He had plenty left to do and refused to become the deadbeat father of the server.
Luckily, it wasn’t long before his partner arrived back at their house.
“Foolish! I’m home!” With a splash, Vegetta announced his arrival from the waterfall in the center of their house. He shook himself off, droplets flying off his hair as he approached.
The room seemed to brighten with his smile as he wrapped his arm around his partner and their son. Foolish leaned into him, quietly grateful for the dampness of his skin.
“Vegetta! Hola, mi amor,” Foolish greeted him, trying to keep the weariness out of his tone. By the way that the protective hold on him tightened, he figured he failed. The two of them stood together for a couple of minutes, basking in the silence of the moment.
“I’m, uh, miedoso,” Foolish admitted, glancing over at his partner. “Tengo miedo. I mean, I don’t know how to take care of a kid– ¿niño? I–” He fell silent when Vegetta turned to look at him, sensing his bubbling frustration.
“Todo estará bien, Foolish. No te preocupes, eh… don’t worry! Cuidaré de ti y de nuestro hijo.”
“Gracias,” the totem replied, unable to properly express his appreciation for Vegetta’s constant support. “I’m glad that you’re my partner. Uh, estoy feliz,” he added, unable to find a better word to use in his limited vocabulary. He hoped it was enough.
The two parents looked down at their son, and Foolish couldn’t help but love the kid he had been given. Leonardo stirred briefly, bleary eyes opening for only a second. He nuzzled further into his parents, falling back asleep an instant later.
“Should we put him to bed? Uh, ¿mimir? ¿Necesita mimir?” Foolish tried not to stumble over his words, nodding towards Leonardo’s ‘room’ to indicate what he meant. (They did need to work on making the kid an actual bedroom).
Vegetta somehow understood, as he usually managed to despite Foolish’s broken Spanish. Their combined determination was enough to break the language barrier, it seemed.
“¡Sí, sí, mimir! He must sleep! ¡Vamos!” Vegetta, although bubbly as usual, was gentle as he led Foolish toward Leonardo’s glorified pile of blankets. He had what looked to be a permanent grin on his face, expression soft as he looked at their son with all the love in the world. It made Foolish’s heart squeeze.
“Aquí, aquí.” Vegetta fiddled around with the pillows and blankets, fluffing them up to create a nestlike shape for Leonardo to lie in. Foolish carefully lowered the kid down, keeping a firm hold on him until they were crouched to the ground. Once he looked comfortable enough, Foolish pulled the blankets over his son, tucking him in to keep him warm throughout the night.
When he finished his task, he noticed Vegetta looking at him with a twinkle in his eyes.
If Foolish was a different man, he might have called it adoration. Before he could dissect that thought, though, Leonardo was shifting around, tired eyes quickly locking onto his parents above him. He was quick to grumble when his father reached to take his baseball cap off, but Foolish soothed him with the promise he would return it in the morning.
“¡Deberías contarle un cuento! ¿Como se dice, eh, a book? For niños?” Vegetta gestured with his hands, and it only took Foolish a couple of moments to figure out what word he was looking for.
“Oh, a story! I should tell him a story?”
“¡Sí, sí! A story!” The other man nodded excitedly, and Foolish couldn’t help but grin alongside him. They sat together laughing, basking in the peaceful moment they had been granted.
“Okay, okay, a story,” Foolish began, settling down next to Leonardo’s pile of blankets. The kid had been watching them with wide eyes, waiting patiently. Vegetta placed a music block down in front of himself, quietly drumming on it to provide some background music. Foolish brushed his son’s bangs out of his face, smiling to himself as he began to talk.
“So, there once was a little egg, and–”
A low hissing sound interrupted whatever Foolish would have said next, and it was only due to his unnatural reflexes that he was able to sweep Leonardo up in his arms and trample the snake before it bit his son.
“Shit, shit!” Looking around, Foolish saw the dozens of snakes slithering toward them, each one brightly striped.
Before he could even process what was going on, Vegetta was stepping in front of them and pushing them back into the farthest corner. He brandished his sword in front of him, looking every bit like he would kill anything that approached his son.
The danger of the situation came crashing down on Foolish, who quickly put his son down and pulled an axe out of his inventory. Their floor was practically covered in a carpet of snakes, with Vegetta busy stabbing as many as he could see. With one final glance at Leonardo, Foolish tightened his grip on his axe and got to work.
The snakes were fast, meaning it was a full-time job trying to keep them all away from the corner where his son curled up, frozen in fear. Still, Foolish never once thought of giving up. He had a house, a partner, and a son to protect. The constriction of his heart was an unfamiliar feeling to him, the urge to defend what he had with his life.
Foolish had never really understood the concept of home. He could build lavish mansions and ornate temples, yes, but what he didn’t know how to make was a home. His constructions were enchanting, but they were not comforting. They were not safe. When they were inevitably destroyed, he only felt frustration for the things he had lost and the amount of time he had put into creating them. It did not make him despair, he did not grieve the loss of his monuments.
They were utterly hollow, devoid of life and emotion. None of his builds had ever been home.
But looking around the warmly-lit house, at the man crushing snake skulls beneath his feet, at the innocent kid trembling in a dark corner, Foolish realized that this was his family. This was his home.
Needless to say, he stopped holding back.
His axe was covered in red by the time the snakes stopped coming, the floor littered with dead reptiles.
None of it mattered the second that Foolish realized it was over. He turned around and picked his son up with no further delay, holding him as tight as possible. His heart was still pounding in his ears, the adrenaline of the situation unlikely to wear off for several hours.
Soon enough, strong arms wrapped around them, huddling them both close. Vegetta whispered reassurances into his hair, starting in English and then switching to Spanish when he ran out of things to say. The small family stood together for what could have been minutes or hours before separating. Vegetta let out a small gasp.
“Foolish! Your legs!” Looking down at his ankles, Foolish hissed in annoyance. Puncture marks littered his calves, golden ichor and yellow venom trickling down his ankles. Vegetta looked at him, eyebrows creased in worry.
“Oh, don’t worry! Uh, ¡no te preocupes!” Foolish chuckled sheepishly, wondering how he could make the situation less traumatic for their son.
Vegetta looked like he was going to have a stroke, quickly ushering him downstairs and muttering to himself under his breath. He sat Foolish down on their bed before rushing over to his chests, digging through them to find whatever he was looking for. Leonardo refused to look, staying tucked into his father’s shoulder. Foolish’s cap was back on his head, although it remained backward.
“Aquí, aquí, tengo vendajes,” Vegetta held up a roll of bandages and a pot of regen. He kneeled next to the bed, quickly tearing off strips of gauze and soaking them in the potion.
“Woah, woah! You don’t need to waste a regen on me, holy shit. It’s not that bad!” Foolish laughed, although it came out a bit more manic than intended.
Vegetta dodged all of his attempts to get the potion away from him, leveling him with a stern look. He began to wrap the bandages around the steadily bleeding puncture wounds, ensuring they were tight enough. Foolish grimaced at the sting as the regeneration began to set in.
Vegetta set the empty bottle to the side when he finished, helping Foolish stand up from the bed with their son still in his arms. His partner smiled at him, but he could tell something was wrong. One hand remained on his sword where it was sheathed at his side. Sweat ran down the sides of his face as he glanced around the room with wary eyes.
Then, a switch seemed to flip. Vegetta wrapped his arm around Foolish’s waist and pulled him close, a deep growl rumbling in his throat.
“¡Muéstrate, cabrón!” The temperature began to rise, the heat suddenly sweltering. Vegetta swerved around, covering Foolish and Leonardo with his body. A demon hovered in front of them, flames licking his body. He smiled at them, but nothing was promising about his expression. By the way that his partner’s grip on him tightened, he didn’t think so either.
“Me cago en tu puta madre,” Vegetta snarled, sounding angrier than Foolish had ever heard. “No me jodas, demonio.” He continued to scream at the devil, each phrase sounding more and more explicit. Foolish wondered if he should cover Leonardo’s ears.
The argument raged on for far too long, ending with the demon leaving with a strike of lightning that Foolish barely avoided. Vegetta cursed again as he glared at the scorch mark it left on the floor.
“Vegetta? Are you okay, ¿mi amor?” Foolish worried that he was a bit out of the loop and gently grabbed onto his partner’s elbow with a concerned look. Luckily, the rage seemed to drain out of Vegetta’s expression the second he locked eyes with Foolish.
“Sí, sí, I’m okay. Lo siento, I… no debería haber hecho eso delante de nuestro hijo. Leonardo… should not have seen that.” Vegetta’s gaze was on the ground and his tone was frustrated at himself.
“Hey, it’s alright. He fell asleep anyway. Nothing to worry about.” Foolish bumped their shoulders together, gesturing to the child that was, in fact, fast asleep on his shoulder. Vegetta cooed, reaching out to take the child from his partner. Silently, Foolish was grateful to hand the kid over, his arms aching from how long Leonardo had been in his arms.
Vegetta was able to hold their son with what appeared to be no effort at all, cradling him to his chest and still holding his other arm out for Foolish to take. The man snorted at his partner’s actions but linked their arms together either way.
As they tucked their son into bed for the second time of the night, Foolish couldn’t find himself to be annoyed in the slightest. He settled next to Vegetta, curling up against the other and trying to leech some of his heat. He was ready to sleep for the first time in days.
“Eh, by the way… the devil we saw? He’s my ex.”
“He’s your what?!”