Special Chapter
By the seventh month of pregnancy, Santa was no longer treated like a person. He was treated like a national emergency.
The Tanapon residence operated under full surveillance twenty four hours a day.
Perth called it "precaution."
Santa called it "psychological warfare."
Perth said it firmly one morning while standing in the middle of the kitchen with a smoothie in one hand and prenatal vitamins in the other.
Santa blinked slowly from where he stood near the counter.
"I am sitting."
Perth narrowed his eyes.
"You're leaning."
Santa stared at him in disbelief.
"You used to run a billion dollar meetings."
Luke marched into the kitchen at that exact moment wearing dinosaur pajamas and a bright yellow walkie-talkie clipped to his tiny shorts.
"Papa," he announced gravely, "you are not cleared for independent movement."
Santa closed his eyes.
"...Why are you holding military equipment?"
Luke pressed the button proudly.
"Operation Baby Watch is active."
Static crackled.
From somewhere upstairs, Grandpa Tanapon's voice answered through another walkie talkie.
Santa turned slowly toward Perth.
"You armed our family."
Perth sipped his coffee calmly.
"We prefer the term organized."
Pregnancy has changed everything.
Again.
Santa was warmer now constantly flushed, constantly exhausted, constantly aware of the weight beneath his ribs.
His stomach had rounded beautifully over the months, impossible to hide anymore. Every movement felt slower, and unfortunately for him...
Perth had become completely unbearable. "No lifting."
Luke nodded wisely from the table while chewing toast. "Daddy says gravity is dangerous now."
Santa pointed at him.
"You stop encouraging your father."
Luke gasped dramatically.
"You said father."
Perth looked emotional instantly.
The house adapted around the pregnancy like it had done before.
Perth's mother redesigned the nursery three separate times because "the emotional energy changed."
Grandpa Tanapon ordered air purifiers, humidifiers, emergency medical kits, and somehow...
a miniature indoor fountain.
"It promotes tranquility," he explained.
Meanwhile, Perth followed Santa around so closely he practically qualified as a second shadow.
If Santa sighed, Perth immediately looked up from his laptop.
"Pain level from one to ten?"
If Santa rubbed his lower back...
If Santa got quiet...
Santa glared.
"You breathe too loudly."
Luke observed all of this from the couch while eating strawberries.
"Papa gets grumpy when the baby kicks," he informed everyone.
Another kick landed immediately.
Santa froze.
Luke pointed victoriously.
"Evidence."
Lunaria Café became even worse.
Not because of customers, because everyone suddenly acted like Santa was made of glass.
Mark nearly had a heart attack when Santa reached for a chair.
Regular customers brought snacks.
The elderly woman near the window crocheted baby socks.
Someone left flowers with a note that read: For the café baby ???
Santa almost cried over that one.
Perth visited every afternoon without fail. Suit jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, with tie hanging loose, but still devastatingly handsome.
Which was deeply annoying because Santa's hormones had only grown worse over time.
Everything Perth did affected him now.
The sound of his voice.
The way his hands looked while holding coffee cups.
The way he loosened his tie with one hand.
It was infuriating.
Especially because Perth continued treating him like a sacred artifact instead of his husband.
One evening after closing, Santa leaned heavily against the counter while Perth cleaned tables badly.
Perth wiped it immediately.
"You're impossible."
Perth smiled faintly.
"Best decision of my life."
Santa's irritation melted instantly.
Which irritated him further.
"You can't just say things like that."
Perth blinked.
"...Why not?"
Perth froze in genuine horror.
Mark whispered from the espresso machine, "Oh, he's dead."
By the eight months, sleep became mythical.
Santa couldn't get comfortable.
His back hurt, his ankles swelled.
The baby kicked hardest at three in the morning like he had business meetings scheduled inside the womb.
And Perth?
Perth woke up every single time.
"Was that a contraction?"
Perth sat up instantly anyway.
Luke wandered into their room at least twice a night now.
Sometimes carrying water.
Sometimes snacks.
Once carrying a flashlight.
Perth looked proud, while Santa looked betrayed.
The breaking point arrived at exactly 2:17 a.m.
Santa woke abruptly with a sharp cramp curling through his stomach.
Enough to make him inhale sharply.
Beside him, Perth bolted upright instantly like his survival instincts had been activated by sonar.
"What moved."
Santa blinked slowly.
"...Me."
Perth was already reaching for his phone. "I'm calling the hospital."
Another one rolled through.
Sharper this time made Santa hissed quietly.
Perth turned pale so fast it was honestly impressive. "That's it," he said immediately. "Shoes. Right now."
Before Santa could argue, the bedroom door burst open.
Luke stood there fully awake.
"IS THE BABY COMING?"
Santa stared at him in horror.
"How are you awake already?"
Luke held up the walkie talkie.
"Grandpa alerted me."
From the hallway, Grandpa Tanapon appeared in silk pajamas looking entirely too calm for two in the morning. "I prepared the car."
Perth pointed dramatically.
"See? Responsible parenting."
Santa wanted to divorce everyone.
The drive to the hospital felt less like transportation and more like an active hostage situation.
Perth drove with terrifying focus.
"Seatbelt secure?"
Luke leaned forward from the backseat clutching his dinosaur backpack. "I packed snacks."
Grandpa Tanapon sat beside him holding a thermos peacefully.
"I brought tea."
Santa looked between all of them.
"...Did you rehearse this."
At the hospital, chaos escalated.
Perth filled out forms incorrectly because his hands shook too much.
Luke argued with a nurse about access rights. "I'm the emotional support eldest child."
Santa was wheeled away while laughing and crying at the same time.
"Stop traumatizing the staff," he begged weakly.
Perth followed beside him looking seconds away from spiritual collapse.
"You're okay," Perth whispered repeatedly.
Labor was long.
Painfully long.
Santa had always considered himself strong. He survived heartbreak.
Survived loneliness. Raised Luke alone.
But labor?
Labor was cruel.
Hours blurred together beneath bright hospital lights, but Perth never left his side once.
Every time Santa squeezed his hand, Perth looked like he might faint from emotional damage alone.
At one point Santa screamed loudly during a contraction.
Perth burst into tears immediately.
"I'm sorry!" he cried. "I'm so sorry! I swear I touched you gently!"
Santa grabbed his collar with frightening strength. "I am pushing out your child," he hissed. "NOT FILING A LAWSUIT."
The nurse turned away to hide her laughter.
Luke stood nearby wearing a tiny surgical cap. "GO PAPA!" he shouted dramatically. "YOU ARE STRONGER THAN WIFI!"
Nobody understood what that meant.
But somehow...
it helped.
Another contraction hit.
Santa buried his face against Perth's shoulder, trembling. "I can't do this."
Perth cupped his face instantly.
"Yes, you can."
Santa cried harder after that.
Then finally...
after hours of pain and exhaustion and tears, a sharp cry split through the room.
The nurse smiled warmly.
"It's a boy."
Everything stopped.
Perth actually sat down before his knees gave out completely.
Luke gasped so dramatically the doctor laughed. "He's screaming already," Luke whispered in awe. "He's definitely ours."
Then, they placed the baby carefully onto Santa's chest.
Santa stared down at him with tear blurred eyes. The baby's face was scrunched angrily, fists tiny and trembling while soft cries filled the room.
Santa laughed weakly through tears.
"...Worth it."
Perth touched the baby's head with shaking fingers. "So small," he whispered brokenly. "So loud."
Luke climbed carefully beside the bed and peered down. "Hi baby," he said very seriously. "I'm your brother. I'll fight people for you."
Santa snorted tiredly.
The nurse smiled.
"What's his name?"
Santa looked up at Perth.
Perth looked wrecked emotionally.
And somehow...
more beautiful than ever.
Perth smiled softly.
"Domiia."
The baby sneezed instantly.
Perth panicked.
"Is that normal?"
The doctor laughed.
"Yes."
Santa laughed so hard tears slid down his cheeks again. "You're unbelievable," he whispered.
Perth leaned down and kissed his forehead carefully. "And you," he whispered back, voice trembling,
"are my favorite miracle."
Later that night, the hospital room finally quieted.
Luke slept curled beside Santa's bed clutching his dinosaur.
Grandpa Tanapon snored softly in the corner chair despite claiming he was "just resting his eyes."
Perth sat beside Santa holding Domiia carefully against his chest like the baby might dissolve if handled incorrectly.
The city lights glowed softly outside the windows.
Santa watched his husband silently for a moment. "You're staring again."
Perth didn't even deny it.
"I married a miracle," he said simply.
Santa smiled sleepily.
"And now you're outnumbered."
Perth looked at Luke.
Then Domiia.
Then Santa.
His entire expression softened into something almost unbearably tender.
"Happily," he whispered.
Domiia yawned.
Luke rolled over in his sleep.
Santa closed his eyes briefly and listened closely to life continuing around him.
Messy, exhausting but somehow beautiful.
Outside, the city never stopped moving.
Inside that small hospital room...
love settled gently into every corner.
And for the first time in a long time...
everyone was finally home.