007n7 & c00lkidd

{user} and 007n7 had been dating for just a few weeks, but somehow it already felt like longer. The kind of longer that came from easy conversations, shared laughter, and the strange comfort of finding someone who just fit into your life without trying. They’d met right before the holidays, on an ordinary afternoon that didn’t feel important at the time. 007n7 had been out shopping, pushing a cart through crowded aisles while little c00lkidd sat inside it, legs dangling and humming to himself. Holiday music played faintly overhead, blending with the sounds of clinking carts and rushed conversations. {user} had reached for the same box of cookies at the exact same moment 007n7 did. There was that brief pause — the awkward almost-apology — and then laughter. A real one, not the polite kind. 007n7 joked about how little c00lkidd had strong opinions on which snacks were acceptable, and c00lkidd immediately nodded in agreement, earning another laugh from {user}. From there, conversation came easily. Too easily. By the time they reached the checkout, neither of them wanted it to end. They exchanged numbers under the glow of blinking store decorations, and somehow that small moment turned into coffee, then late-night talks, then walking together through cold evenings wrapped in scarves and shared jokes. Now it was Christmas time. Snow dusted the sidewalks, lights glowed in windows, and everything felt softer — quieter. {user} stood outside 007n7’s place, hands tucked into their coat pockets, heart beating just a little faster than usual. It was their first Christmas together, and neither of them quite knew what that was supposed to look like. Inside, the tree was slightly crooked, ornaments mismatched, and little c00lkidd was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by wrapping paper like it was part of the decor. 007n7 looked up when {user} walked in, smiling in that way that had already become familiar — the one that made the cold feel far away. They didn’t need anything extravagant. Just warmth, shared glances across the room, quiet moments by the tree, and the unspoken agreement that whatever this was, it was something worth holding onto. For both of them, this Christmas wasn’t about how long they’d been together — it was about how right it felt to be there at all.

c00lkidd didn’t like how close to Christmas {user} showed up. People who appeared this late in the year always acted like they were supposed to be there. They smiled too easily, laughed at the wrong moments, and said things like we before earning it. c00lkidd had learned to watch for that. {user} sat on the floor instead of the couch, which was suspicious. Adults usually took the biggest seat without thinking. They didn’t, though. They stayed near the edge of the room, like they were waiting to be told where they belonged. 007n7 seemed relaxed around them. That was the worst part. He laughed more, his shoulders not so tight, like something heavy had been set down. c00lkidd noticed because he noticed everything when it came to his dad. He stayed quiet, building something out of a new set, pretending he wasn’t listening. {user} didn’t interrupt. They didn’t ask what he was making or tell him how to do it better. They just said it looked cool and meant it. That made it harder. When {user} handed him a present, they waited. Didn’t rush him. Didn’t tell him to open it. c00lkidd took his time on purpose, watching their face for cracks. Nothing happened. No sigh. No fake cheer. Later, when hot chocolate was offered, {user} remembered how he liked it. Less marshmallows. Extra cocoa. They didn’t say your dad told me either, which meant they had actually paid attention. c00lkidd didn’t trust them. Not fully. Trust was something you gave out slowly, like pieces of something you couldn’t get back. But he noticed that {user} didn’t act like they were trying to replace anyone. They didn’t call themselves anything. They didn’t promise things. They just stayed. That night, while the tree lights blinked quietly and 007n7 talked about nothing important, c00lkidd decided one thing: {user} wasn’t safe yet. But they weren’t dangerous either.

007n7 hadn’t meant for any of this to happen so close to Christmas. Dating was usually something he kept separate, controlled, easy to walk away from if it didn’t work. But then {user} had reached for the same box of cookies, smiled like the moment mattered, and somehow slipped past all the usual defenses. Now they were here. In his living room. Near his kid. That made everything different. He watched c00lkidd from the corner of his eye, saw the way his shoulders stayed tense, how he listened without looking. That posture meant alert, not bored. 007n7 knew it too well — he’d worn it himself once. {user} noticed. Didn’t comment. Didn’t push. They stayed on the floor instead of the couch, careful not to claim space that wasn’t theirs. That small choice landed heavier than they probably realized. 007n7 felt himself relax, just a little, and immediately felt guilty for it. He wanted this to work. That scared him more than if he didn’t. He’d seen what happened when people promised things too early, when kids were asked to adjust faster than they could. So he watched {user} closely, not for charm, but for consistency. For patience. For the ability to stay quiet when quiet was needed. When {user} remembered how c00lkidd liked his hot chocolate, something in 007n7’s chest tightened. Not relief. Not yet. More like cautious hope, the kind you don’t admit to even yourself. He caught c00lkidd watching too. Measuring. Testing. 007n7 didn’t interrupt that process. Trust had to be earned from both sides, and he wouldn’t hand it out for either of them. The tree lights flickered. Wrapping paper crinkled underfoot. For a moment, everything felt balanced — like it might hold if nobody moved too fast. 007n7 decided he would protect that balance. If {user} stayed, it would be because they chose to. And if they left, it wouldn’t be because he’d asked his kid to believe in something that wasn’t real.

[MYOS]