Too Indecisive for This

Sylus is sitting in a rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. The motion is supposed to help the baby laying on his chest fall asleep, but he's been awake for over 50 hours now and he's starting to be lulled to sleep, all while she stubbornly remains wide awake.

"Sweetheart," he mumbles, words slurred with exhaustion, eyelids so heavy as he forces them open to look at her again, "you gotta go to sleep eventually. You can't just stay awake like me."

"Bahhhh~!" Her onesie-covered feet kick at his stomach as she squirms around.

He hums like he understands. "Yeah, but you don't sleep like me," he argues. "You're awake all day, too. Babies are supposed to need - yaaaaaaaawn - a lot of sleep."

"Mnff."

"I'm no good at this - I know. But papa's the only one here right now, so you gotta deal with it."

Her little hands, still uncoordinated, try grabbing onto his shirt. She caught sight of the slight shimmer of red at his shoulder and is now utterly fascinated. Her pouty lips shine with spittle and eyes sparkle with awe as she tries grabbing it.

He hums. "Yeah. You're my daughter, alright."

"Euhhhh."

He takes a long breath in through his nose. His chest falls with the exhale that follows. "I can't sing to you. You hate it. 'N we don't need you crying right now."

"Awaa!" She smacks a fraction of blood red moonlight that reflected in the fibers of his shirt. "Awaba!"

"Awaba," he murmurs without thought. They're all drifting out of his ears, pooling on the pink, high-pile rug below. It's a very soft rug, too. He remembers feeling it when trying to decide... the best of the best for...... his child's........ bedroom...........

Snooore... snooooooore......

"Ehhhhhh!!!"

He startles sharply. By instinct, his hands cradle the object tightly to his chest, over his racing heart. He scans the perimeter for danger, ready to defend his baby to the death and-

She pats his mouth.

He looks down at her wearily.

"Habuhbuh," she says wisely.

He stares long and hard at her squishy, round little face. "Hhbhbh," he mumbles against her hand.

She giggles at the ticklish feeling. She squeals in glee when he begins playfully eating her tiny fingers and shaking her hand between his teeth.

A snicker from the doorway is the sound of salvation.

"Aren't you both supposed to be in bed?"

He doesn't even have the energy for a quip when you drop your travel bag by the door and come to rescue him. Or, rather, rescue your daughter's fingers from his mouth. She doesn't even notice him anymore the moment she sees you. She squeals, kicks at him, tries to reach out for you.

And the moment you've got her tucked away in your arms, she's pressed up against you and closing her eyes.

He sighs, long and drawn out. "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you." You roll your eyes at his dramatics as you settle in his lap. His arms wrap around you in turn, without even thinking about it. You snuggle up to him, head on his shoulder, back home once again. "She just likes me better."

He huffs a soft sound of amusement. "Mmmhm."

You embrace the moment. Drink in the sweet domesticity of your child in your arms and your husband nuzzling into your neck. The quiet of a morning in the N109 Zone while it lasts. Red light from outside makes all the pink in the room pop out...

The chair slowly stops rocking.

Snooore... snooooooore......

thinking about feeling sylus's skin through his shirt.., the warmth and power there still tangible beneath the fabric. small intimacies like that are important to meee,,

running your hand down his clothed back, then sneaking it underneath his shirt and feeling his bare skin beneath your palm. so soft with just a bit of give to it. feeling his muscles flex under your fingers as he moves to thread his own through your hair in return. i just want to touch him so bad i might cry. Tbh..

you express interest in touching him intimately for the first time, and you receive a flirty, cocky response in return, but are also given full access. sylus is taken by surprise when instead of reciprocating his heated words, you press your cheek against his chest, over his heart, and run your hands up his sides beneath his shirt, your eyes closed in quiet focus. you treat him as a delicate treasure to be worshipped and revered and valued in a way he's never properly experienced before. he'd soften so sweetly and hold you close, enveloping you in his larger form and pressing a kiss to your temple. enjoying the feeling of your small hands exploring their new territory.

feeling his hand gently pressing against the small of your back when you get distracted in public, guiding you. holding his hand to avoid being separated in a crowd, then keeping them like that even as you leave the crowded location. playfully swinging your joined hands a little bit and enjoying his amused response. going to a concert with him and letting him cover your ears when the music gets a little too loud for you. the size of his hands compared to your head making you flush a little bit.

he always runs warmer than you, so you tend to lean into his touch whenever he offers it. he finds this adorable, and sometimes likes to see how far you'll lean when you're too tired to realize he's messing with you. eventually your sleepy protests win him over, and he wraps you back up in his embrace and gives you all the kisses you want.

happy pride month to all my queer lads comrades🫰

Wedding night

"What if i were? What if i died right here of low blood sugar because my wife refused to let me have one macaron?” The seriousness in his voice might have fooled anyone but you.

"Stop being dramatic. You’re not going to die of hypoglycemia just by skipping one macaron right after your dental appointment.” With that said, you snatch the plate from his hands and head straight to the kitchen to hide them somewhere he can't find.

When you come back to the living room, you see Zayne lying on the couch with his eyes closed, body still. “Zayne, are you okay?”

A small smile appears on his face at your concerned voice and you roll your eyes. You can't believe what lengths this grown ass doctor with a prestigious medical degree could go for sweets.

You decide to play along and walk over to him, crouching down on the floor. "Oh no. Did the famous cardiac surgeon of Akso hospital dr Zayne Li die of hypoglycemia?” You fake mourn his pretend death. “What a tragedy! I have no choice but to check his heartbeat."

His smile grows bigger, awaiting your touch on his chest, instead he feels them on his crotch.

He grabs your hands off almost immediately and pulls you on top of him, looking equally amused as surprised. "Do you think my heart is located there?”

“It’s not my fault that they're both big and do a very good job in loving me. Anyone could be easily mistaken.” you say while tracing a huge penis on his chest.

He seemed pleased with your answer. “What if i propose a deal? You show me how much you love me by giving me one macaron and i dedicate both my big attributes to love you back?”

“You're trying to sell your body for one macaron?”

He innocently nods, and you giggle. "As tempting as your offer is, Zaynie." You pat his chest and climb off him. "I'm going to have to pass."

"So my wife would rather see me dead than let my teeth rot?”

You shake your head, he's acting like a man in withdrawal except his addiction is sweet and so is his suffering. You almost pity him, “Yes, no sweets for..... a month.”

I never desired anything before you...