#infinite darkness

imagine…

Having Leon Kennedy as your ex-boyfriend, especially during the Infinite Darkness Era.

You’d never leave his mind, and he’d be constantly beating himself up for losing you. The break up was definitely not mutual, you had ended things because he simply never had time for you. Leon did not take this lightly.

He was head over heels for you, in-love with the warmth and love you gave him. When you left him, everything in his life felt like it was falling apart.

His drinking habits only got worse. He’d drink himself unconscious every night, he’d go on field missions hung-over, he’d have a bitchy attitude and he would definitely try to hit on girls with his usual ‘Wanna grab dinner?’.

In the rare occurrence that one would say yes, he’d take them out, reluctantly, and literally just talk about you the whole time. Your favorite things, how he missed your scent, even asking if he could stalk your instagram through his dates phone. You had him blocked on Instagram. Luckily, he had your handle memorized.

imagine..

Leon sending flowers to your apartment every weekend, along with a note begging you to text him. He may be obnoxious, but he doesn’t to completely overstep your boundaries and cause a restraining order, so he hasn’t shown up to your apartment himself yet. He wants a chance in your futures

Meanwhile, Claire is exhausted from having Leon cry on her shoulder every other day. She gets dinner with him out of pity, not trusting him by himself. She feels pity for both of you.

She understands your side, knowing how you must feel having a partner who never had time for you.

And she understands Leon, knowing how much he loves you. All she can do is watch from the sidelines, help Leon home when he’s black out drunk, and make sure he doesn’t kill himself.

imagine…

Leon stalking you, parked down the street from your place when he sees you step out, looking so pretty and cleaned up. His heart skips several beats and he straightens in his seat, eyes glued to every step you took. You had him memorized.

He quickly ducks down underneath his steering wheel when you look around your street. Once he’s sure he’s in the clear, he peeks back up, watching as you climb in your car and drive off.

‘Following you was definitely overstepping a boundary’, he thought.

Fuck it.

imagine…

Leon parking outside the bar you had walked into, a million thought running through his head. Were you meeting up with someone? Were you already over him? It had barely been a month!

He’s slow and steady as he walks in, keeping himself in the shadows of the bar. He’s gone through too many stealth missions to fail now.

His eyes watch as you sit down at the bar, wearing that pretty dress, lip gloss on your soft lips. The same lips he used to kiss stupidly every night.

He tries to act casual, sitting in a back booth, ordering a few drinks because why not, he’s already here, and watching you intently. He would know if you were here to meet up with a guy.

And to his relief, one of your friends walks up to you and settles down on the stool next to yours. His shoulder inflate and slump in relief, leaning back in the booth. He drinks up his whiskey as he watches you, suddenly feeling a lot lighter.

And of course, your friend looks around boredly, glancing in his direction and makes direct eye contact with him. Obviously, your friend recognizes him and immediately nudges you, pointing in his direction. His heart drops and he starts coughing violently on his drink, looking away and trying to hide his face.

Your head whips around, jaw dropping at the sight of him sitting in a booth towards the back of the bar. This place was nowhere near his side of the town, and you swore saw his car earlier outside your street. You grab your purse, huffing at your friend to wait behind as you march over to Leon.

imagine…

Leon being dragged outside the bar by you, explaining himself hurriedly, embarrassed and flustered by being caught. He didn’t wanna be perceived as a creep, it was only just a coincidence!

“This bar is an hour away from your place, Leon.” You glare, crossing your arms as you look up at the sheepish man, who was fidgeting with his leather jacket. His heart was beating fast, it’s been a month since he last talked to you. Seen your pretty face from so up close.

“I was just driving around, honey. You know how I get when I see new bars— gotta try them out.” He shrugs, trying to appear casual. He coughs awkwardly. Your eye twitches in annoyance.

“Don’t honey me—“ You snap, before sighing and softening your gaze when you see the hurt visible on his expression. “Leon, I broke up with you for a reason. Our schedules.. We barely had time for each other.” You frown.

Leon’s heart aches as he steps closer, his warm hand taking yours as he pleads. “Baby, please. I’ll change my schedule. Make Hunnigan give me less missions. This has been the worst damn month of my life.” His puppy eyes were working, because he could see your shoulders starting to slump in defeat. He steps closer, your back hitting the wall with a soft thud.

“Please. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever. You mean the world to me.”

imagine…

After almost an hour of bantering and pleading with him outside, you finally cave, letting him take you back to his apartment on the other side of town. He was gonna show you everything you had been missing.

He’s all over you the second you step inside his place, hands on your curves, lips against yours, picking you up and throwing you on his bed. It’s a big mess, he’s in a daze. He finally has you back, and he wasn’t gonna let you go ever again.

“You’re mine,” He gasps against your tummy, kissing down your thighs and pressing his head between, hot breath washing over your flimsy panties. Your hips buck at the contact, a small yelp leaving you. “Leon, s-slow d-down— I’m not going anywhere,” You whine softly.

“Not anymore,” He growls, pulling your panties down. He positions your thighs over his shoulders, diving down to lap at your cunt, no manners. He had missed the taste of you. Missed the squish of your soft thighs against the side of his face, trapping him in as you helplessly squirmed underneath his tongue.

imagine…

Leon finally pulling away after almost thirty minutes of lapping at your cunt, having licked you clean. You were trembling and shaken up, fingers aimlessly pawing at the sheets underneath your body. He hums softly and crawls over you, kissing your forehead down to your chin, rubbing his nose against your cheek and smiling.

“You still with me?” His hand pulses your thigh up against your chest, positioning himself between them. He watches your facial expression closely as he unzips his pants, finally freeing his cock, which was very painfully hard.

“Mmmm,” You grunt weakly, panting for air, chest heaving from the several intense orgasm. You were a mess, hair tangled, mascara ruined with streaks on your flushed cheeks, dress bunched all the way up around your skirt. You looked gorgeous, and he promised himself he’d never let you leave him again.

“You’re not going anywhere,” He whispers, hovering over you and slowly lowering himself until he laid against your soft body, cock rubbing against your folds. “You’re all mine, you hear me? Gonna be the mother of my kids.” His voice is low and raspy, making you shiver as he presses his thick head against your hole.

A shaky gasp leaves you as he slowly pushes in, hands holding yours down at each side of you, fingers intertwining. He watches closely, eyes dazed, lips parting as a low groan leaves him. Feeling your warm cunt swallow him, take him deep; he missed you so god damn much.

A slow breath leaves him. He leans down, pressing his forehead flush against yours, maintaining eye contact with your wobbly gaze.

You however, take subtle revenge in your own ways. Popping open a button or two when you go into his office to drop a few files on his desk, maybe dropping something on the floor to bend to pick it up, using a straw to drink something whenever you can. To show how well you can suck...the drinks of course but his imagination runs wild just enough.

Just a few tricks and he's flustered as well, he hides it well from his face...but his pants don't. He had to assume you liked him just enough too but he didn't have it in him to commit an HR violation by asking you out.

So after one day of rough meeting with the superiors, you could tell he wasn't in the mood. You tried bringing him coffee, talking to him sweetly. But instead, it worked opposite, a big frown on his face as he asks you to get out of his office. How rude, you were just being nice to the old man, guess it doesn't count these days.

But you couldn't be more wrong because things worked even if you didn't mean them to. After that rough meeting, you acting so sweet and helpful to cheer him up ended up short circuiting his brain. His pretty as a doll, half his age who could possibly be thought as his hypothetical daughter's age. Being all so caring to him and his grumpy old self. Maybe if he did have a daughter your age he could stop himself for what he was about to do next in his office.

He hurriedly closes the door or he thinks he did. He doesn't care right now, all he needs is something to help him relax from that shitty meeting besides he made sure you wouldn't enter.

He sits & leans back on his chair, taking out the emergency tissue box he always had. Spreading his legs wide and closing his eyes as he unzips his pants, pulling down his briefs just enough. Groaning as he starts to jerk off his semi hard cock, his head going to his usual fantasy of you as he works his dick…

Your face buried in the pillows as he grabs onto your waist and continues to fuck you from behind. He'd like to think you'd be into that, maybe he'd have teased you about fucking your boss for some promotion, maybe he'd have called you a few things in bed to see how you'd have reacted. He'd like to think, he was still good enough in bed to get you to moan for him…

Or if he was too tired for sex, maybe you both would be here in his office, you on his office desk with his face buried in between your legs, eating you out like a monster. Oh god, he would love to taste you, feeling your lovely hands tug his hair as you ride his face. God, it was too good...He was so close now... Just a little...

"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you but Hunnigan is asking, Oh!—”

What? The fuck where that came from in his fantasy?

He opens his eyes back up and freezes as he realizes you were standing in his office, face red as a tomato and mouth agape from the sight of him pleasuring himself.

His eyes widen as he scrambles to think what to do in this situation. He could just apologize to you and hope to all the gods that you don't report this to HR. Or… maybe… he could be a tad bit manipulative? And smart with it.

He calms himself down and looks in your eyes as he slowly fixes himself, hoping you take it all in…unzipping his pants as he does, and taking out a few tissues as he wipes his hands clean. And throws the tissues in the trash.

He looks back at her with a smug smile. “...You needed help with something?”

You stare at him in shock as you try to calm yourself from what you just say. “Uhh… no…No help…umm…”

He raises an eyebrow and says. “No?”

You nervously grip the file that was in your hands and brush your hair away from your face. “Yeah… no… I can just say Hunnigan to call later—”

“No, tell me, what does she need…?” his voice slowly turns low as he gets off his chair and slowly stalks towards you, with his hands in his pockets.

His words obviously were not directed at Hunnigan right now and seeing you realize that was…fun.

Your eyes widen as a deer caught in headlights as you scramble for an excuse to leave. You turn around, grip the door handle, getting it to open. “It's totally fine, Sir! I will just tell her to bother you some other time—”

But he catches up to you & places his hand on the door to prevent it from opening. He crowds your space. He could smell your soft perfume up so close, Vanilla, he guesses in his head.

He waits for you to turn and face him, when you do, he lowers his voice further. “She can…bother…me anytime…” His hand slowly comes up to gently brush your hair aside & tuck it behind your ear. As his eyes flick back to yours as he asks. “Tell me… what she needs?”

Your breathing was heavier, you hoped this was just some wet dream instead that you could wake up from. Walking in on your boss like that, the one who you were crushing on for so many months & now he was close enough to kiss you if you asked…

But you really shouldn't. You should run at the chance.

So you take a slow deep breath and slowly bring the file between you both that was getting assaulted by your tight grip for so long. And as calmly as possible reply. “She…wanted you to sign a few places here.”

Leon looks in your eyes for quite some time and then slowly takes the file from your hands. He stands back up straighter, creating some space between you two, slipping back into his usual work mode. He opens the file, takes out a small pen from his pants pocket as he signs where it was necessary. And hands it back to you.

You slowly take the file from him and weakly force the words out. “Can I…go?”

Leon takes a deep breath as he steps further back to let you leave.

You nod, grateful to escape this tension. You open the door to leave when his voice floats to your ears.

“Knock, next time you come in, sweetheart…” His tone was full of taunt.

You don't bother looking back or replying. And simply leave.

He takes a deep breath when you leave, now he is convinced that you won't tell anyone. Although he is still frustrated that he didn't get to cum & that he's gonna have a bad case of blue balls now.

✧༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻✧

After an hour or so, he manages to leave his office and go to your desk that was just outside his, to check on you.

You looked like you were having a bit of a tough time with the work. It was only fair as a good boss he helped you out of course.

He slowly walks to your desk and gently knocks on the wood to get your attention. “Need some ‘help’?” His voice is smooth.

You look up to him and immediately freeze in your work. “Oh…Sir… uhh… no I'm all good actually. Just a few typo mistakes you know how it is.” And chuckle nervously.

He smiles all too innocently at your discomfort and teases. “Oh? Sorry for ‘walking’ in & ‘disturbing’ you for that…I'm sure you can handle yourself.”

You look back at his smug face and could feel your anger rising along with your some more arousing thoughts.

God, he was so smug, why was he so smug? You could go to HR any moment. Why was he testing you like this? And God, you didn't know whether to slap the shit out of him or tug at his tie to kiss him and make out in the entire office & give him a real scandal to worry about.

You still can't get that image out of your head. His head thrown back, his hands eagerly working on his dick, eyes shut & chasing his relief, maybe he didn't realize it but you heard him whimpering your name too. And after that little stunt in his office you can't even forget it even if you tried.

As you were debating whether to slap or kiss him in the middle of work. Someone else came to your desk to drop a file.

“What are you guys talking about?” Dave asked. He was also one of your older coworkers but he was a sweet guy with a family of his own.

Leon turns to him and his eyes flicker with mischief as he sees the opportunity. “Oh nothing, just sharing stories of the dangers of someone walking in at the wrong time at a workplace. Like so much is going on all the time…And walking in at the wrong time can make things…explode.”

Dave chuckles and smiles. “Oh yeah, you don't have to tell me. At my last job, I walked in on my boss having a full blown argument on a call once.”

Leon's eyes flick to you, mischief alive in his eyes. “Hmm… just a call, huh?” And smirks at you. You glare at him, wanting to kill him for this.

Dave doesn't notice it and keeps on going. “Yeah, it didn't go well for me. He started blowing on me for not knocking instead!”

Leon smirks down at you as he says. “I mean he did have a point on knocking…”

Dave nods. “Yeah, but I did knock, but yeah I guess I should have waited for him to yell ‘Come in' before going in.” He laughs and says. “Never gonna make that mistake again.”

Your face grows more red as he continues to talk. Leon and you both in a little bit of a staring contest of your own, knowing he was clearly winning. You turn away and smile at Dave. “Thanks Dave. Hey, I'd love to chat more with you. But you know these files…”

Dave raises his hand in mock surrender. “Oh sure sure. Keep going.. Will talk later.” As he walks away.

Leon gives you a smug smile and deadpans. “See, even Dave had to learn the hard way to always knock when you go to see the boss.”

You glare at him and give him a tight smile. “I understand, Sir…” You clear your throat and get up from your chair. “I'm going to go to the archives, to get a few things… if that's all.”

You don't wait for his answer as you walk down the Hall to get to the archives. It was just a small old office filled with old file cabinets but everyone went there to either hookup or cry about their life.

You don't focus on anything else as you open the door to the archives and get inside. You lean back against the door to take a few breaths in and sigh. Still feeling your cheeks heat up whenever you remember it, him teasing you like this. God, you should go to HR and be done with it.

But you couldn't & right now you really shouldn't explore the ‘why, you won't go to HR about this major thing’ so it was best to bury yourself in work.

You walk further in the office to look around, trying to distract yourself, seeing if there was actually something useful.

As soon as you started to look around. You could hear someone else also coming in the archives and locking the door behind them.

“Hey don't lock—” You turn to face the person who did and freeze in your spot, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

Leon simply raises his hands in surrender as he says. “Relax, I just want to talk.”

You flush more as you cross your arms and look at him. “I… don't know what you are talking about.” You rub your hand behind your neck and look away from him.

Leon rolls his eyes and walks over to you. “Oh come on…”

You take a step back and say. “I don't want to.”

“Well we have to.”

You scoff and exasperatedly wave your hands around. “Why? I'm trying to forget about it!”

Leon shakes his head and scoffs. “Yeah, doing a marvelous job at it, by the way.” As he eyes you up and down seeing the nervous wreck you were.

“Hey! You're in no position to judge me. I can go to HR anytime you know.”

Leon raises an eyebrow and smirks at you. “Right…if you were going to, you'd have done so by now.”

He was right but you don't want to admit it. “That's…doesn't make sense… maybe I'm waiting for the right time to say to them.”

Leon scoffs and asks. “Right time? What does that mean?”

You shrug and frustratedly cross your arms and glare at him. “I don't know, I will go to HR when I think it's right and when I'm ready to talk about it.”

Leon looks at you with a curious expression, his lips slowly turning into a smirk as he realizes. And slowly starts to walk towards you again. “Ahh… Blackmail. I'm impressed.”

Your eyes widen as you start to step back. “No that's not, Uff—” Your back hits one of the cabinets, curse you, stupid small archive room.

Leon shakes his head as he crowds your space and leans down to face you. “Oh, that's exactly what you meant. I have to say, never thought a sweet & cunning girl like you could be so… ruthless. Blackmailing your boss?” His voice lowers as he whispers. “I have to say it does turn me on…” And smirks at you.

He could see his words starting to have an effect on both of you, your face flushing red, the tension between you two feeling more thick.

He continues to talk. “Because let's be honest, you're not as innocent as you make yourself out to be…I know all your little tricks to tease me.”

“That's insane… I never did any of that.”

He chuckles, very amused by your defiance even though you clearly wanted him. He gently brushes his knuckles over your cheek and whispers. “If you're blackmailing me… do it properly…”

Your breath hitches at his words, wanting to get the words out but you can't.

Leon sees how you were hesitating, you clearly wanted to go further, he just had to give you a little push. He continues. “I will do anything…for you to not go to HR.” He leans in whispers teasingly in your ear. “You want to see me begging on my knees for you to not tell others what you saw in the office? Begging & apologizing to you…so hard that you see stars?”

Heat pools between your legs, your eyes widening briefly at the offer, you knew what he was saying. And well, the door was locked this time. So no harm, right?

You clear your throat and take a deep breath. Ready to play his little game. “Get on your knees and beg.”

His grin widen at your order and gently brushes his finger on your soft lips. “Atta girl…” And slowly leans in to kiss you. His stubble prick your soft skin as he kisses you, when he doesn't feel you respond to his kiss, he starts to pull away, fearing he did too much.

But you grab him by his collar and pull him back to you, kissing him back harder. “I didn’t tell you to stop.” And bite down on his lower lip that makes him groan a bit too loudly.

Leon could cum from that moment alone, with the way you were putting him in his place, god this was even better than his fantasies. “Yes ma'am.” And kisses you back eagerly, bringing his knee between your legs and moving your hips so you could grind against them. “Use me, baby.”

You moan against his lips and wrap your arms against him and eagerly grind for him. Feeling blissful and too out of it as you do. And you both barely started.

His hands eagerly roam over your body as his tongue dances with yours, the kisses turning and sloppy and hotter.

You pull away to undress him but he stops your movements. You scrunch your face up and frown. “What… let me…”

He shakes his head and pushes your hands away from his clothes and whispers in between the kisses. “This is about you…and me just begging… and making up to you…So, let me… you just tell me what to do.”

You couldn't believe this was actually happening, were you going to control your boss? While he's ‘begging’, this is definitely some poor wet dream you are having right now. And God you never wanted to wake up if this was actually a dream.

Leon closes his eyes and starts kissing down your neck, no hickies there, since you are all still at work. His hands slowly move down to your hips, gently caressing them through the pencil skirt you were wearing, feeling you up. He bites on your earlobe. “Relax… no one's gonna know… it's not everyday your boss wants to beg for you.”

Your breath hitches as you close your eyes and slowly start to relax further in his grip. “Okay…”

He pecks your lips when you so obediently start to relax for him. “Good girl…so perfect. Go on, tell me what to do.”

You mumble out. “Get on your knees…”

He clicks his tongue and kisses your collarbone. “Try it again.”

You take a deep breath and say it more firmly. “Get on your knees and beg me, so you don't get fired for jerking off in front of your assistant.”

He smirks against your neck & slowly pulls away and looks in your eyes, the desire in his eyes mirrors yours and he couldn't help but thank all his lucky stars in that moment. He continues to look in your eyes as he slowly gets down on his knees for you.

He smirks at the tiny gasp you let out at the sight but doesn't comment on it, he's just gonna remember it for life. He slowly slowly lifts one of your legs on his shoulder and gently caresses the skin, massaging it almost.

He looks back in your eyes for a moment then turns his head just enough to plant a kiss just above your ankle and whispers. “I'm sorry you had to see that in the office.”

He drops another a bit higher. “Sorry, that I was jerking myself thinking about you…”

Another one on your calves. “Sorry, that I always think about you when I jerk off…”

Another one under your knee. “Sorry, that I'm such a pervert when it comes to you but I can't stop it.”

Your breathing was heavier, this was unreal, you can't help but continue watching him as he places those kisses so sweetly, you could stay like this forever.

His hands then slide up your hips to bunch up your skirt as he continues kissing up your thigh, mumbling incoherently now, kisses growing desperate. “Sorry, I always hoped that this… would happen…” And gently bites down on your upper thigh, making you gasp in surprise.

He doesn't waste time asking for permission and buries his face in between your legs, his nose bumping to your panties. His both hands grip your hips as he takes deep breath, your arousal feeling up his senses and he never felt more hungry for anything in his life. “Baby you smell even better than I imagined.” He flattens his tongue and tries to taste you through the fabric, groaning when he finally gets the taste. “Mm, we should always do this…” and plants a kiss over it.

Your face burns red from either embarrassment or how hot this situation actually was. No man ever enjoyed being between your legs this much as he was. And it made you feel embarrassed with how much he was praising you. “You're liking that too much…”

Leon huffs out a laugh, his hands gently rubbing the smooth expanse of your hips as he looks up at you. “Just trying to do my job well. You're still blackmailing me, so I have to beg really well now.”

He says this much and starts to make out with your pussy through your panties. That makes your groan, god he was so filthy with it. His tongue rubbing your slit and thanks to how wet you were, the fabric was now sticking to your folds like a second skin.

You couldn't handle his teasing. Your fingers lace through his dark hair and tug at it harshly. “Take it off, and do it properly.”

Another harsh tug to his hair makes him whine. He nods and mumbles “Yes, ma'am.”

His hands eagerly tug down your fabric and immediately pocketing it in his back pocket, exposing your glistening cunt. He stares at it dazedly and buries his face immediately and starts to eat you out like a dying man in thirst of water.

You couldn't control your moans even if you wanted to. Your hands grips his shoulders tightly as he eats you desperately but with tact. His nose bumping your clit as his tongue slips inside to taste you, his stubble prick your sensitive skin but that only heightens the sensations if anything. He grips your hips in a tight vice grip when he feels you shifting your hips. He was gonna beg on his terms.

He was playing with your cunt, alternating his motions. Spelling out his name with his tongue in between your legs and then sucking harshly on your clit. He was also noting what type of noises you were making when he did some move with his tongue. Doing the things you like again and again to get you to cry out for him.

You were a mess, it was almost embarrassing if it wasn't that much hotter with how much his tongue had you in control. You were already so close to your impending orgasm. The band in your stomach threatening to snap any moment.

You try moving your hips away to delay it but he was having none of it. Instead he doubles down and tightens his grip over your hips and pulls away from your cunt just enough to slide two of his fingers inside your pussy without warning and starts to suck on your clit harshly. Making you moan louder than before, god he was so ruthless.

He pulls away again just to see how your hips eagerly grinded on his fingers. “God, look at your pussy, sucking my fingers in… poor her, she barely got attention did she?” He shakes his head, feigning disappointment. “Good thing, I'm here…”

Your legs tremble gripping the cabinets with all your strength, your hands whitening from the tight grip as you start to get close. You open your eyes briefly and mumble out. “I'm so close…”

Leon kisses your clit and says. “Let go of yourself for me, baby.” And curls his fingers just right to get you to cum for him.

There was no stopping after that, your orgasm crashes down on you like a wrecking ball. Biting down on your lips not to scream his name too loud since you were all still in the office.

He replaces his fingers with his mouth and helps you ride your high, lapping up everything your pussy was giving to him. He only stops when you whimper from the overstimulation and tries to push his head away.

After a moment he pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and sucking on his fingers to get the last of your sweet elixir.

Once he is done, he stands back up pulling you in his arms with a gentle grip and kissing you slowly. You melt in his arms, whining softly when you taste yourself on his tongue but he holds onto you tightly and pulls down your skirt & smoothes it. He pulls away briefly and gently brushes the tears away from your eyes. You didn't even realize you were crying because of your high.

He helps you fix yourself and then fixes himself. And then pulls you in his arms & gently peppers soft kisses over your face. You try to make sense of what happened between you two.

But one thing was sure, there was no turning back.

I'm sure I could have smoothened this all out better but tbh I was too eager to write this out. I'm sorry guys if the pacing wasn't that well. But I also wrote it in a few hours. So if it's possible go easy on me🙏

As always I would love to hear your thoughts on my fics! Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated as always 🫰

Take care of yourself!!!

You looked up almost immediately. "There you are," you smiled. "I made it," he answered with a tired smile. You closed your book and set it on the nightstand before reaching for him. Leon didn't hesitate. He leaned down just enough for you to wrap your arms around his waist, and for a few quiet seconds neither of you said anything. The embrace itself said enough. "You look exhausted." You whispered. "I am exhausted." A small laugh escaped you.

He rested his cheek briefly against the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo before glancing towards the digital clock on the nightstand. "So..." he murmured. "I'm officially 2 hours away from getting older." He added. "You mean wiser," you joked, looking up at him. "I don't know about that," he huffed. "You don't have much of a choice," you said, hugging him slightly tighter. Another chuckle rumbled softly in his chest.

"You planned something, didn't you?" You tried your best to look innocent. "Maybe," he narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion before shaking his head. "I'm fine as long as nobody makes me wear one of those ridiculous paper hats," he said with a warning tone. "I make no promises," You said, raising your hands in defense. His smile only widened.

"Where's my partner in crime?" He asked, releasing his embrace around you after pecking your forehead. "Asleep." You glanced towards the hallway. "He insisted on waiting for you again." Your voice softened. "He almost managed it." Leon let out a quiet, affectionate sigh. "I'll be right back." You watched him disappear into the hallway, his footsteps growing quieter until they stopped outside Sammy's bedroom.

The door creaked ever so slightly. You couldn't hear the words he whispered, but you didn't need to. You knew the routine by heart. A kiss against Sammy's forehead, his little dinosaur tucked back under one arm, the blanket pulled back over tiny shoulders after it had inevitably been kicked away, and a whispered goodnight. It didn't matter how late Leon came home; he never skipped it.

A few moments later, he returned, the softness in his eyes impossible to hide. "He didn't even move." He chuckled. "He sleeps like you," you pointed out with a wide smile. "I do not," Leon complained immediately as he opened his underwear drawer and took out new boxers. "You absolutely do when you're relaxed." You watched his movements carefully. "That's slander," he pointed a finger at you. You laughed quietly, and the sound followed him as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Soon the steady rush of water filled the house. You opened your book again, but only managed a few pages before realizing you had read the same paragraph three times. Your attention wandered instead. It always did.

When the bathroom door finally opened, a thin cloud of warm steam drifted into the hallway. Leon stepped out with a towel secured low around his waist, another rubbing absentmindedly through damp blond hair. Tiny droplets still clung to his skin, catching the light from the bedside lamp as he walked back into your shared bedroom, tracing slow paths across his shoulders and chest. You had seen him like this countless times. Enough that it should have become ordinary. It never had.

Time had changed him in subtle ways. His shoulders had broadened over the years, his frame stronger than it had once been, built by endless training sessions and missions that demanded more than most people could imagine. Scars, old and new, interrupted otherwise sun-kissed skin like silent reminders of every place life had taken both of you. They should have made him look intimidating. Instead, somehow, they only made him look more like himself. There was something impossibly comforting about him when he was simply home, being just your husband and the father of your son.

His damp hair curled slightly at the ends as he finished drying it, and when he noticed you watching him, one corner of his mouth lifted into that familiar crooked smile. "What?" You simply shook your head. "Nothing," you shrugged. "I know that look," he said, pointing at you. "What look?" You asked innocently. "The one where you're pretending not to stare." You let out a quiet huff as if his words offended you. "I wasn't pretending." He laughed under his breath. "Oh wow, how direct," he quietly teased.

Setting the towel he'd been using onto the chair by the window, he walked towards the bed. The mattress dipped beneath one knee as he leaned over you, one hand braced against the sheets beside your hip. "So," he whispered, close enough that you could still feel the lingering warmth from the shower. "Anything else I should know before I become an old man tomorrow?" You smiled, your fingers brushing a damp strand of hair away from his forehead out of habit. "I think you'll survive another birthday," you said confidently. "I certainly hope so." He leaned down just a little further.

His lips found yours in an unhurried kiss, gentle at first, carrying the quiet comfort of coming home after a long day. When he pulled back, only for a heartbeat, neither of you moved. The silence between you felt smaller. His forehead rested lightly against yours, the tip of his nose briefly brushed yours, his thumb traced slow circles on your cheek as his eyes searched yours with that familiar fondness that always made your heart skip.

"Lay down," you whispered, slightly pulling him down and guiding him to lie beside you. The towel still hung loosely on his hips as he rested his back against the headboard. Your fingertips traced the muscles of his chest and stomach, making him shiver slightly under your touch. "What are you doing?" He asked with a growing smirk threatening to pull at the corner of his lips. "Just relax and enjoy," you whispered, placing a soft, lingering kiss on his lips before moving down to his neck and chest.

His breath quickened faster than he would like to admit, a familiar bulge appearing under the towel. "I must've been really nice in my previous life to deserve this..." He whispered with a wide smile, his eyes following every single movement you made. Your fingers gripped the hem of the towel, untying the small knot with ease.

His voice got stuck in his throat when you wrapped your hands around his erection, slowly pumping it. His head bumped into the wall behind him slightly when his muscles tensed up, a heavy wave of pleasure hitting him the moment your mouth wrapped around him. "God... You're so good..." He whispered, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. You held his gaze as you traced the veins on the base of his hard member.

His hand tucked the strand of hair getting on your face behind your ear every single time, not allowing it to get in between your gazes. His blue eyes darkened a little more with every deep breath he took, his fist around the sheets becoming tighter with every lick your tongue made around the leaking tip. "I'm so close..." He whimpered a few minutes later, cumming in your mouth not long after.

Silence settled over the bedroom once more. The only sound left was the steady rhythm of Leon's breathing as he lay beside you, one arm lazily wrapped around your shoulders as he pulled you closer, his fingertips tracing random patterns against your skin. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower, a few blond strands falling across his forehead now that they had finally dried.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stayed there, tangled beneath the blankets, letting the quiet fill every corner of the room. You were the first to break it, though. "...Happy early birthday." A soft laugh escaped him. "So technically, I haven't even turned a year older yet," he muttered, checking the watch on his wrist. "No," you murmured, smiling against his shoulder. "But I didn't want to wait until tomorrow." His arms tightened around you almost instinctively. "You spoil me," he sighed. "You deserve it." He shook his head with the smallest smile, pressing a lingering kiss against your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head.

"You know I've never really cared much about birthdays," he admitted quietly. You looked up at him. "And you know I changed that." A loud chuckle escaped him. His gaze drifted towards the bedroom door, where the faint glow from the hallway slipped beneath it. "Yeah, you did." His voice carried that familiar warmth it always did whenever he talked about you or Sammy.

"I think that's enough reason to look forward to tomorrow." Your heart softened. You reached up to brush your fingers through his hair, earning a content hum that was almost enough to make you smile. Outside, the neighborhood had long since fallen asleep. Somewhere in the distance, the wind stirred the leaves of the trees lining the street, and the sound drifted faintly through the cracked bedroom window.

The house was peaceful, lived in. Eventually, Leon reached over to switch off the bedside lamp. Darkness wrapped around the room, leaving only the pale silver glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. "Goodnight, honey," he whispered. "Goodnight." Within minutes, the steady rise and fall of his chest told you he had finally surrendered to sleep, exhaustion catching up with him after another long day.

Curled safely against him, you closed your eyes as well, unaware that only a few hours later, a tiny pair of feet would come padding down the hallway with a birthday mission far too important to wait until sunrise.

Morning arrived quietly with something much smaller than any alarm or ray of sunlight spilling through the curtains. "...Mama." Tiny fingertips poked your cheek with surprising determination. "...Mama." Another poke. "...Mama." You frowned slightly, still somewhere between dreaming and waking, burying your face deeper into the pillow in the hope that whatever tiny creature had found you would simply go away. It didn't.

A pair of little hands cupped your face instead. "Mama," came the whisper again, somehow even more urgent this time. "Wake up." Your eyes cracked open just enough to find an enthusiastic pair of blue ones staring back at you from the side of the bed.

Sammy was standing on his toes, barely tall enough for his chin to reach the mattress. His blond curls stuck out in every possible direction, evidence that he had climbed out of bed the moment he woke up. One dinosaur sock had somehow disappeared somewhere along the way from his bedroom to yours, while the other still covered his tiny foot, slightly crooked. He looked very serious.

"Mama," he whispered again. You blinked away the last traces of sleep. "What is it, sweetheart?" His tiny face lit up. "We have birthday." You couldn't help smiling. Right, it was today. You shifted your gaze towards the other side of the bed. Leon hadn't moved an inch. One arm rested beneath his pillow while the other was still stretched across the mattress where you had been sleeping only moments before. His breathing remained slow and steady, completely unaware of the very important operation currently unfolding beside him.

You looked back at Sammy. "Papa's still sleeping," you whispered, pointing at your husband. "I know." His answer came with all the confidence of someone who had spent at least three whole minutes thinking through an incredibly complicated plan. "We surprise." Before you could answer, Sammy suddenly gasped. His eyes grew wider. "So quiet." Very slowly, as though the walls themselves might be listening, he raised one tiny finger to his lips. "Shhh." The sound barely escaped above a breath.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. "Top secret," he informed you with a solemn nod. "Oh?" He leaned closer until his forehead almost touched yours. "Mission." The word was barely louder than the rustling of the blankets. You nodded just as seriously. "A mission." He nodded back. "The biggest," he said enthusiastically.

Satisfied that you understood the gravity of the situation, Sammy carefully reached for your hand. Not pulled, reached. Like every movement had to be perfectly calculated. You slipped out from beneath the blankets as quietly as possible, making sure not to disturb Leon. The mattress shifted ever so slightly. Sammy froze completely. His eyes snapped towards the bed. Both of you stared at Leon, but nothing seemed to change. His breathing remained as calm as before.

Sammy slowly exhaled. Then looked at you with the unmistakable expression of someone who believed disaster had only just been avoided. "Close," he whispered. "So close," you whispered back. He gave one decisive nod. The mission could continue.

Hand in hand, the two of you began the longest journey of your lives. Or at least, it felt that way. Every floorboard seemed suspicious, every step became a careful balancing act. Sammy lifted each foot dramatically high before placing it down with painstaking precision, pausing every single step to glance over his shoulder and make sure Leon hadn't appeared behind you like he did whenever Sammy was developing one of his terrible ideas.

He looked less like a three-year-old in dinosaur pajamas... and more like the world's tiniest secret agent. Halfway across the room, he suddenly stopped again. You nearly walked into him. "What happened?" He pointed towards the bedroom door. "It's... squeaky." His tiny voice carried genuine concern. You almost laughed. But instead, you crouched beside him. "I think we can handle one squeaky door, Agent Kennedy." He considered this for several long seconds. Then gave a determined nod. "Okay."

Very carefully, he wrapped both hands around the doorknob. His tongue poked out in concentration as he pulled it with meticulous care. The hinge creaked. Sammy immediately froze again as his eyes widened. You both looked back towards the bed. Leon shifted slightly beneath the blankets, letting out nothing more than a quiet snore before settling once again. Neither of you breathed.

A few endless seconds passed. Then silence returned. Sammy looked up at you with the biggest grin imaginable. "We did it," he whispered. "You did." His chest puffed with pride. Still holding your hand, he stepped into the dark hallway as though he had just completed the first phase of the most important mission in the history of birthdays.

Behind you, Leon continued sleeping peacefully, completely unaware that somewhere downstairs, his tiny partner in crime was already preparing the greatest birthday surprise a three-year-old had ever attempted.

The kitchen light flickered on with a soft click. Sammy looked around as though he had just stepped into a mission control. His mouth fell open ever so slightly. "So much cooking," he whispered. You smiled, tying one of your spare aprons around his little waist. It hung almost to his ankles, forcing you to fold it in half before tying the strings behind his back. "There." He looked down proudly. "I chef," he cheered. "Yeah, you're a chef," you chuckled. "The best chef," he nodded confidently. "The best chef," you repeated, ruffling his hair with a wide smile.

He nodded once, fully accepting the compliment before marching towards the counter with all the confidence of someone who had never successfully made breakfast in his entire life. You had barely taken the flour out of the cupboard before he was already reaching for the mixing bowl. "I do it." His voice rose barely above a whisper. "I know you do." His tiny hands gripped the bowl with absolute determination while you measured out the ingredients.

Everything was going surprisingly well. Until the eggs. "I crack!" You hesitated for a second. "...Okay." You handed him an egg. Sammy held it with both hands, staring at it as if it could break just by looking at it. Very gently... Tap. Nothing. He frowned. A little harder, another tap. Still nothing. His eyebrows furrowed a little more. Then... CRACK. The shell exploded with far more enthusiasm than intended. Half the egg landed inside the bowl; the other half slid dramatically onto the counter.

Sammy stared; the counter stared back. "...Oops." You couldn't help laughing. "It's okay," you said, taking his hands bathed in egg and putting them under cold water to prevent them from smelling later. "It escaped," Sammy said quietly, looking at the cold water hitting his hands. "I catch next one." You handed him a cloth while quietly rescuing what remained of the egg before moving on.

It took approximately thirty seconds for the next disaster. "...Mama?" You turned. Sammy had somehow managed to lift the flour bag onto the counter entirely by himself. A small achievement. Unfortunately... He had also squeezed it. A soft white cloud burst into the air like fresh snowfall. Flour coated the countertop, the floor, his pajamas, his nose, and even his eyelashes.

For one perfectly frozen moment, neither of you moved. Then Sammy blinked. A tiny puff of flour floated away from his face. "...Snow?" You laughed so hard you had to lean against the counter. "I think our kitchen might've turned into winter." He looked around proudly. "I helped," he said. "You definitely did."

A few minutes later, after the countertop had been rescued and the batter was finally mixed, you started cutting fresh strawberries and setting out blueberries. Sammy immediately reached into the carton. One blueberry disappeared. He chewed thoughtfully. You raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" He swallowed. "...Checking," he said as if it was obvious. "Checking what?" You asked. "If yummy." You couldn't help laughing at how your son was Leon's son as well, so undeniably. "And?" You asked between laughs. He nodded very seriously. "Need another."

Another blueberry vanished. Then another, and another. By the time you'd finished slicing the strawberries, you looked back towards him. Half the carton was gone. "...Sammy." He froze; a suspiciously round little cheek bulged ever so slightly. You couldn't even pretend to sound stern. "Were those quality control too?" He nodded with complete sincerity. "Papa says it's important."

He looked into the nearly empty carton. "...Still checking." You laughed quietly and stole one blueberry from the few survivors. "I think they've passed inspection." He considered that. "...Okay." He muttered, not fully convinced.

The pancakes were much safer. Mostly because he couldn't eat the batter before it reached the pan. He stood on his little stool beside you, watching each pancake bubble before you flipped it. Every successful flip earned an enthusiastic gasp. "Again!" He said a little too excitedly. "We have quite a few to make." You watched the huge bowl of batter, reconsidering if you had made too much for just the three of you. "For Papa," Sammy said proudly.

When the stack began growing on a plate beside the stove, Sammy's eyes widened. "No." You blinked. "No?" He shook his head vigorously. "More," he said, looking up at you. "I think this is enough." He looked horrified at your answer. "But..." His tiny hands stretched as wide as they could. "Papa is big." You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. "He is," you managed to say. "So..." He carefully stole one pancake from your plate and stacked it on top of Leon's plate. "There."

Soon the tower looked far taller than any reasonable breakfast required. Sammy admired his work. "Perfect." He beamed, looking at the huge tower of pancakes. "I hope Papa's hungry," you chuckled. "He always hungry," Sammy nodded thoughtfully. You snorted. "That's actually true."

The final step, according to Sammy, was the most important one. Decoration. You opened the cupboard and reached for the little jar of star-shaped sprinkles. The moment he spotted them, he gasped. "Stars!" Before you could say anything, Sammy had already thrown his arms towards you and taken the tiny jar with both hands. "I do." He twisted the lid open with immense concentration before carefully shaking the first few stars over the pancakes.

Then a few more. Then... Many more. Tiny blue, pink, yellow, and white stars rained down over the entire stack. Some landed on the pancakes, most landed on the counter, and several somehow reached the floor. One even stuck in Sammy's hair for some reason neither of you could explain. He looked undeniably pleased with himself. "Pretty." You nodded proudly. "They're very pretty." He beamed at your words. "Papa gonna love," he threw his fists into the air in triumphant cheering. "He definitely will."

Satisfied with the masterpiece, Sammy stepped back to admire it. The pancakes leaned ever so slightly under the impressive amount of whipped cream, fruit, and star sprinkles decorating the top. The kitchen looked... Lived in. Flour still dusted one corner of the counter, a wooden spoon had somehow migrated to the dining table, blueberries were mysteriously missing, and tiny footprints marked a trail across the floor where Sammy had forgotten he was still wearing flour-covered socks.

It should've looked like chaos, but instead, it looked like love. You glanced towards the ceiling with a small smile. Somewhere upstairs, Leon continued to sleep soundly, probably regretting not being able to be part of the blueberry robbery you and your son had carried out. Sammy slipped his little hand into yours. "We did good." You squeezed it gently. "Yeah." Looking around the flour-covered kitchen, you smiled. "We really did."

The kitchen was slowly beginning to look like a kitchen again. Or, at least, something vaguely resembling one. You had managed to wipe most of the flour from the counters, collect the runaway blueberries, and sweep the tiny stars from the floor. Sammy had contributed by carrying exactly three things from one side of the kitchen to the other before becoming distracted by a spoon he'd apparently decided was a sword.

You had gently taken the spoon away. Now he stood beside you, holding a damp cloth in both hands while you wiped down the last of the counter. His little nose was still dusted with flour. You had pointed it out twice. He had refused to acknowledge it. For a few seconds, everything was quiet. Then Sammy suddenly stopped moving. His entire little body went still. You noticed immediately. "What?" He looked at you. His eyes widened. Then, without another word, "Wait." And he was gone.

You barely had time to turn around before his tiny feet slapped against the floor, carrying him out of the kitchen and down the hallway. "Sammy." No answer. You sighed, already knowing better than to chase him. A moment later, you heard drawers opening. Then another, then something falling, then a very distant, determined: "Got it!"

You smiled to yourself. You continued wiping the counter while listening to the unmistakable sounds of a three-year-old rummaging through the house with absolutely no regard for stealth. A minute later, Sammy came running back. He had a piece of paper clutched in one hand and a fistful of markers in the other.

The paper was already wrinkled in several places, one corner folded over from what looked suspiciously like having been carried inside a pocket. He stopped in front of you, slightly out of breath. "I make Papa gift." Your expression softened immediately. "A gift?" He nodded. "Birthday gift." He placed the paper carefully on the counter, then the markers. Then he looked at you. "Don't help." You raised your eyebrows. "Okay." He pointed at you for emphasis. "No help." You raised your hands in defense. "Got it."

Apparently satisfied, Sammy dragged his little stool closer to the counted an climbed onto it. The paper covered almost the entire surface in front of him, and he had to use one tiny hand to hold it down while the other gripped a blue marker with his entire fist. His tongue poked slightly out of the corner of his mouth.

You stayed quiet. This was serious work. The first lines appeared slowly. A giant, somewhat crooked shape took up most of the page. Then another, much smaller, beside it. Then a third figure in between. You watched him work without interrupting, your heart quietly melting as the drawing began to take shape.

Leon was enormous. His head was nearly as big as the rest of his body, with two tiny dots for eyes, a collection of wild lines that Sammy presumably considered hair, and arms that stretched almost to the edges of the paper. Sammy, meanwhile, was barely a fraction of his size. A tiny little figure floating beside him. And you were in the middle. Your figure was almost as tall as Leon's shoulders, with a smile represented by a single curved line.

Sammy paused; he studied his work, then added something to Leon's hand. You leaned slightly closer. It looked like a crooked watch. You immediately had to bite the inside of your cheek. Apparently, even at three years old, Sammy had decided that Papa's most defining characteristic was being very, very big and the watch on his wrist.

He switched markers. Blue became yellow, yellow became red, then green. He colored with complete disregard for the boundaries of his original lines, turning the page into a colorful mess of overlapping shapes. Every few seconds, he'd stop and stare at the drawing with intense concentration before adding another detail.

A little sun in the corner, some clouds, something that might have been a tree, a bright red scribble that Sammy considered a flower. When he seemed satisfied, he moved to the top of the page. He chose a purple marker. Then, with painstaking concentration, began writing. The letters were huge, crooked. Some were backwards, some didn't resemble letters at all. One appeared to be nothing more than a circle with two lines sticking out of it.

Sammy paused between each one, muttering quietly to himself as he tried to remember the shapes he'd seen adults make. Finally, he put the marker down. He sat back on his stool. His chest rose proudly. You looked at the finished drawing. It was chaotic, messy yet bright and perfect.

At the top of the page, in enormous, completely illegible toddler handwriting, was what looked like a secret code. You smiled. "What does it say?" Sammy looked at the writing. Then at you. His expression became incredibly serious. "Happy birthday, Papa." Your heart practically folded in half. "That's what it says?" He nodded. "Yeah." He pointed towards the top of the paper. "Happy birthday, Papa." You crouched beside him. "I think Papa's going to love it." Sammy's smile grew wider. "Really?" You nodded. "Really."

He looked back at the drawing. For a moment, his excitement softened into something quieter. Then he carefully picked up the paper with both hands. "Put here," he said, pointing towards the pancakes. "Papa see when wake up."

You helped him carry it over, though Sammy insisted on holding most of the paper himself. He placed it beside the enormous pancake tower with surprising care. Then he stepped back. The breakfast, the stars, the fruit, the drawing. Everything was ready.

Sammy slipped his hand into yours again as he looked up at you. "Papa happy." You squeezed his tiny fingers. "Yeah, sweetheart." Your eyes met his. "He's going to be very happy." Sammy nodded confidently. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind because, as far as he was concerned, he had made the perfect birthday surprise Leon could ask for.

The final stage of the mission turned out to be the most dangerous one: transport. You stood at the kitchen counter with one hand beneath the large breakfast tray, carefully checking that everything had a place before you even attempted to lift it. The pancakes sat in the middle, stacked into an absurdly tall tower that leaned just enough to make you nervous; bacon surrounded the base in a messy little pile, while strawberries and blueberries filled the empty spaces around it. A glass of pineapple juice sat safely near one edge for Sammy, and two mugs of coffee occupied the opposite side, one for you and one for Leon.

And right beside the pancake tower was Sammy's masterpiece. You had tucked it beneath the edge of the tray so it wouldn't slide off, leaving the colorful little family portrait visible enough for Leon to see immediately. Then there was the candle. A tiny birthday candle stood proudly over the very top of the pancakes.

You stared at the tray for a moment before looking at your son. "Are you sure this is going to work?" Sammy looked offended by your question. "Yes." He had already appointed himself chief of transportation. The same little apron still hung around his waist, now covered in flour and a few suspicious blueberry stains. His hair remained completely disheveled, and there was still a tiny smear of flour across the bridge of his nose.

He reached for the other side of the tray. "Ready." You crouched slightly so you could look him directly in the eyes. "Slowly." He nodded. "Very slowly." Another nod. "And no running." Sammy looked almost insulted. "I don't run." You stared at him. He stared back. The two of you silently acknowledged that this was perhaps the least convincing statement he'd made all morning.

You carefully lifted the tray. The weight shifted immediately. His little arms trembled beneath his side of the tray, and his entire expression changed from enthusiastic birthday chef to intensely focused professional. "Whoa." You tightened your grip. "Easy there, sweetheart." The pancake tower wobbled. Both of you froze.

The tower slowly settled again. Sammy's eyes became enormous. "Don't fall," he begged. "It won't," you chuckled. "Don't fall, pancakes," he quietly repeated. You bit back a laugh. "I'll do my best," you muttered with a funny voice as if you were one of the pancakes.

The two of you began the journey upstairs. One tiny step at a time. The hallway suddenly seemed much longer than it had five minutes ago. Sammy walked beside you with his arms stretched forward, concentrating so hard on keeping his side of the tray level that his tongue had slipped between his lips again. Every few steps, he looked down at the tray.

The house remained completely silent around you. Inside your bedroom, Leon was still asleep. You could almost picture him lying beneath the blankets, one arm thrown across the empty space beside him, still enjoying the last few precious minutes of sleep.

Sammy slowly lifted one finger. "Shhh." You glanced at him. He pointed towards the stairs. "Papa." You nodded solemnly. "Sleeping." His eyes narrowed. "Secret." He whispered. You had to look away for a moment. "Very secret," you whispered as well. Satisfied, Sammy continued.

By the time you reached the top of the stairs, your arms were beginning to ache. Sammy, however, looked as though he could have carried the entire breakfast across the country if necessary. His little shoulders were tense with determination. Then his foot caught slightly on the edge of the rug. The tray tilted, the pancake tower leaned, the coffee shifted. You immediately adjusted your grip. Sammy gasped.

Once everything was settled, silence settled around you. You looked at him; he looked at you. Then, very slowly, Sammy whispered: "Close." You pressed your lips together. "Very close." He nodded gravely. The mission continued. The hallway passed beneath your feet in agonizingly slow increments.

The excitement building inside him all morning was suddenly impossible to hide. His little smile appeared when you reached the door of your bedroom. You carefully lowered your voice. "Ready?" He nodded with eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. Together, you pushed the door open. The hinges gave the tiniest creak. Both of you froze.

Sammy slowly looked at you. His entire face lit up. You'd made it. The most important mission of the morning had officially reached its final stage. And, somehow, against all odds, not a single pancake had been lost along the way.

July sunlight had only just begun to creep over the horizon, spilling through the half-open curtains in long, golden ribbons. The warm glow painted soft streaks across the wooden floor before climbing slowly onto the bed, caressing the edges of the rumpled blankets and the loose strands of blond hair resting against the pillow. The air already carried the promise of a hot summer day, though the house still held onto the coolness of the night.

For once, your husband looked like someone who had absolutely nowhere to be. You carefully placed the breakfast tray on the dresser at the foot of the bed before looking down at your excited son. He looked back at you with the excitement of someone who had been waiting for this exact moment all night. You smiled. "Go ahead." That was all the permission he needed.

Sammy climbed onto the mattress with surprising care, using both hands and one determined little knee until he finally reached the middle of the bed. Leon let out a sleepy hum. Sammy crawled a little closer. Then reached out one tiny hand and poked Leon's cheek very gently. Another poke against Leon's cheek. "Papa," he whispered. No response.

The toddler looked back at you. You bit the inside of your cheek, already struggling not to laugh. He turned back towards Leon. "Papa..." Still nothing. A slightly louder whisper this time. "Papaaa." Leon only shifted his head a fraction deeper into the pillow. Sammy frowned. Clearly, this was becoming a problem.

He studied his father for a few thoughtful seconds before deciding that the current strategy simply wasn't effective enough. Very carefully, he climbed another little bit higher. Then, plopped himself directly onto Leon's stomach. The sudden weight earned a quiet grunt. One blue eye slowly opened. Leon stared blankly at the ceiling, then at the small blond child sitting proudly on top of him. His expression remained completely empty for several seconds.

"...Buddy?" Sammy beamed at the familiar nickname. "Wake up!" Leon blinked once, twice. His sleepy gaze drifted lazily towards you, then towards the tray. His brain was clearly trying very hard to catch up with reality. For a moment, he simply stared. You watched the exact second everything fully connected. "Oh..." A sleepy smile slowly spread across his face. "...Today's my birthday."

Before either of you could say another word, Sammy took a deep breath. An impressively deep one. Then, with all the confidence in the world... "Happy birfday tooooo youuuuu..." The melody wandered somewhere entirely unrelated to the actual song. Some words arrived too early, others disappeared altogether. Halfway through, Sammy decided clapping was just as important as singing, throwing himself so enthusiastically into the performance that he completely lost the rhythm. "...Happy birfday Papaaa..." Another clap. "...Happy birfday toooooo..." He paused, looking at you. Then proudly shouted the final line several notes higher than everything that had come before. "...TOOOO YOUUUUU!"

Silence followed. Then Leon burst into loud laughter, the kind that shook his shoulders and forced him to cover his face for a second because he couldn't stop smiling. You were laughing just as hard beside him. Sammy looked between the two of you, completely convinced he should have earned actual money for the little concert he just gave you.

He clapped once more for himself. Leon finally lowered his hand from his face, tears of laughter gathering in the corners of his eyes. "I think," he managed between quiet laughs, "that's the best version of Happy Birthday I've ever heard." Sammy grinned proudly. "I sing good," he nodded triumphantly. "You sing perfectly." That seemed to be exactly the answer he'd been hoping for.

He immediately wrapped both little arms around Leon's neck, nearly knocking him back against the pillows again. Leon hugged him without hesitation. One hand settled against Sammy's back while the other reached towards yours, gently intertwining your fingers with his. His gaze wandered over the tray once more. For a long moment, he simply looked, as though he wanted to memorize every tiny detail before the morning could slip away.

A quiet smile settled across his face. "Best birthday ever." He wasn't joking. For years, birthdays had passed like any other day. Sometimes he was working, sometimes he barely remembered the date himself. But this, waking up with the morning sun spilling through the curtains, his son sitting happily on his stomach after singing the world's most spectacularly off-key birthday song, and you standing beside the bed trying not to laugh... This was everything he had never dared imagine his life would become.

Before Leon could sit upright, Sammy gasped. The drawing. With another excited little squeal, he slid off Leon's lap and hurried towards the breakfast tray. His small hands carefully picked up the slightly wrinkled sheet of paper before he turned around and marched back across the mattress. "I made it!" Leon immediately sat. "For me?" Sammy nodded so enthusiastically that a lock of messy blond hair bounced into his eyes. "For birthday." He held the drawing out with both hands.

Leon accepted it with the same care someone might use when receiving something fragile. His eyes wandered slowly across every single crooked crayon line. A huge blond stick figure occupied nearly half the page; a much smaller one stood beside him; you were in the middle; the sun smiled from the corner; the sky was filled with clouds; there was what appeared to be a tree, or perhaps a broccoli. And, above everything else, a line of enormous purple letters that looked less like words and more like an ancient language only toddlers could understand.

Leon smiled widely. "This..." He glanced back down at the page. "...might be the greatest piece of art I've ever owned." Sammy's chest puffed up immediately. "I make," he said. "I can tell," Leon laughed. He pointed carefully towards the enormous figure. "Who's this?" Sammy looked quite offended by the question. He simply pointed at your husband. "I'm that big?" He stretched his arms apart as if measuring himself. Sammy nodded with complete confidence. "You biiiig." Leon couldn't help laughing.

His finger moved towards the tiny figure beside him. "And this one?" Sammy pointed at himself. "So little?" Leon's eyes widened. Sammy held two fingers very close together. "Little," he whispered. Leon reached over and gently ruffled his hair. "I don't think you're going to stay little for very long."

Then Leon pointed towards you. "And who's in the middle?" Sammy looked at you this time. "Mama," he replied. "Right where she's supposed to be." You smiled, shaking your head. Leon continued studying the drawing with complete seriousness. "What about this?" He pointed towards the little round thing around his hand. Sammy looked. "Oh," he moved towards Leon's side, grabbing his wrist and pointing at his G-Shock DW-6900 watch. Leon blinked. "My..." He looked again. "...watch?" Sammy nodded proudly. "You always wear it." Leon nodded thoughtfully. Apparently that explanation was more than enough.

"And it's sunny, because it's summer," Sammy leaned closer, tapping the smiling yellow sun in the corner. "Of course." His logic was flawless. Leon finally looked up towards the strange collection of purple scribbles at the top of the page. "And what does this say?" Sammy smiled immediately. "Happy birthday, Papa." Leon looked back down. He tilted the page one way. Then the other. "...Really?" He asked. Sammy immediately nodded. "I'll have to take your word for it." Sammy nodded again. "I wrote it." Leon scoffed. "That explains a lot."

Leon lowered the drawing onto his lap for another long look. There wasn't a single straight line on the page, and the colors made absolutely no sense. Nothing was proportional, and half the paper had somehow become blue. But it still looked perfect.

He looked back at Sammy. "You know what?" He asked. "What?" Sammy tilted his head in curiosity. "I'm putting this on the fridge." Sammy's eyes grew impossibly wide. "The fridge?" Sammy beamed. "The front of it, so everyone who comes over can see it," Leon announced proudly. Sammy looked as if his drawing had been selected to be displayed in one of the most famous museums of the city. "I artist." Leon nodded with complete sincerity. "The best one I know."

Sammy immediately launched himself forward, wrapping both little arms around Leon's neck. Leon caught him without hesitation, laughing quietly as he hugged him back. The drawing remained safely tucked beneath one hand as though it truly belonged in a museum.

Eventually, the pancakes demanded attention. The breakfast tray was pulled between the three of you, balanced carefully across the blankets. Sunlight had climbed higher now, filling the bedroom with warm golden light that spilled over the bed and turned the coffee mugs into little pools of amber. The candle had long since been blown out; the pancakes were disappearing surprisingly quickly despite the long time they sat on the plate since you finished making them.

He reached confidently towards the bacon. Not his own plate, though, but Leon's. His tiny fingers stole a slice before quietly retreating. Leon continued cutting his pancakes as though nothing had happened. You watched him over your coffee mug. He hadn't missed it, not even slightly. A few seconds later, another piece disappeared.

Leon remained completely focused on pouring syrup over his pancakes. "You know," he said thoughtfully, never looking up, "I could've sworn I had more bacon a minute ago. Sammy froze, finally noticing he'd been caught red-handed. The bacon remained halfway to his mouth. His eyes slowly lifted towards Leon. But your husband kept eating, acting completely oblivious.

Sammy looked at you, then back at Leon, and then slowly took the bite anyway. You lowered your head, hiding your smile behind your mug. Another minute passed, and a third piece vanished. Leon sighed dramatically. "Huh." He scratched his temple thoughtfully. "I must be imagining things." Sammy tried very hard not to laugh but failed miserably.

By the time breakfast was nearly over, whipped cream had somehow found its way onto Sammy's nose. And Leon's cheek. You noticed both of them first. Without saying a word, you leaned over and brushed your thumb gently across your husband's cheek and across your son's nose. "Like father, like son," you joked as you cleaned your finger with a napkin. Leon leaned in to peck your forehead. "Thanks." Across from the two of you, Sammy watched your interaction very carefully.

After several seconds of intense observation, the boy reached into the bowl, scooped up far too much whipped cream, and deliberately dabbed a blob onto your cheek. You and Leon blinked with confusion. Sammy looked at you expectantly. "Mama, you have whipped cream too. Like papa and me," he announced, reaching your cheek and cleaning it. You chuckled. "Thanks, sweetheart," you said, leaning down and kissing his forehead just like Leon did barely a minute ago. Your son giggled so hard he nearly spilled his pineapple juice.

Breakfast lingered long after the plates had been emptied. Sammy had eventually curled up against Leon's side, his attention drifting between the last few blueberries in his bowl and the endless stories he was inventing with his fork. Leon, meanwhile, hadn't stopped glancing at the drawing resting against the breakfast tray. Every now and then, his eyes found it again.

You watched him quietly for a moment before slipping out from the bed. "I'll be right back." Leon looked up; Sammy followed his father's gaze. "What are you doing?" Leon frowned. "You'll see." Curiosity followed you across the room as you walked towards your bedside table.

The top drawer slid open with a familiar sound. Hidden beneath a neatly folded sweater sat a small black box you had been carefully pretending didn't exist for the past two weeks. You picked it up. Even after all this time, it still made your heart beat a little faster. The silver lettering on the lid caught the morning light. Hamilton.

When you turned back around, Leon's expression had already changed. He recognized immediately that this wasn't another joke from Sammy. This was the real present. You climbed back onto the bed and settled beside him before placing the box carefully into his hands. For a second, he didn't dare to move. His fingertips traced the edge of the lid almost absentmindedly.

"You didn't have to," Leon said, hesitant to open the box. "You already made breakfast," he quietly added. You chuckled. Leon has always been like that, never wanting mind-blowing gifts and being too scared of opening them just in case it was all a joke. "Open it." He looked at you once more. Then slowly lifted the lid.

Nestled inside the dark cushion rested a watch unlike any he'd ever owned. Its polished steel caught the sunlight spilling through the bedroom window, the blue dial shifting ever so slightly as he tilted the box in his hands. For a few seconds, he looked almost afraid to touch it. Finally, he lifted it carefully from its place.

The bracelet slipped softly between his fingers as he turned it over. Then he saw the engraving. His thumb stopped moving. The smile that had lingered on his face since he woke up faded into something deeper. He read the words once. Then again. The Kennedys. Beneath it, engraved with the same careful precision, were two dates. The day the two of you had promised each other forever, and the day Sammy had come into the world.

His gaze remained fixed on the metal for what felt like forever. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. "...What's this for?" You smiled softly. "I think it's about time." He looked up. You reached for his left wrist. The old black Casio your son had drawn on his masterpiece was slightly worn from years of everyday use.

You remembered fastening it around his wrist yourself all those years ago, just before he had left for Spain. Back then, you'd wanted him to carry something that would always remind him to come home. "It has served you well," you said quietly, brushing your thumb over the faded edge of the strap. "So have you." A small laugh escaped you. "I'm serious," you chuckled. "I know."

You looked back at the Hamilton resting in his hands. "I thought..." You paused for a moment. "...maybe it was time for a new chapter." Leon lowered his eyes to watch once more. The engraving caught his attention again. The family name the three of you shared made his throat tighten.

Without thinking, he turned his wrist over and unclasped the old watch. The Casio rested quietly in his palm. For years, it had followed him through missions, flights, sleepless nights, and impossible odds. It had counted every hour that separated him from the people waiting for him. He looked at it with the same affection one reserves for old photographs. Then he carefully laid it beside the breakfast tray.

His fingers closed around the Hamilton. You helped him adjust the bracelet around his wrist. It fit perfectly. Leon turned his hand slowly, watching the morning sunlight reflect across the crystal. It felt unfamiliar yet strangely right.

Sammy, who had been watching the entire exchange with the intense curiosity only a three-year-old could possess, suddenly scooted closer. "Papa." Leon looked down. "Yeah, buddy?" Leon asked gently. "Pretty," he said, pointing at the new watch. "It is," Leon smiled. Sammy reached out with one finger, carefully touching the edge of the watch before looking back up at him. "My birthday have watch too?" You laughed. "Didn't you ask for a dinosaur?" You joked. "I want watch too, like Papa," Sammy protested. "You'll get one someday," Leon said with a smile. Sammy seemed to consider that answer. "...Okay."

He accepted it without further protest, already distracted by a blueberry rolling across the blanket. Leon barely noticed. His attention remained fixed on the engraving hidden beneath his wrist. His thumb brushed over the cool metal once. Finally, he looked at you. There was an emotion in his eyes that words never quite managed to reach. He leaned forward without saying anything and wrapped his arms around you.

His forehead rested against yours. "Thank you," he whispered. Two simple words that sounded impossibly small compared to everything he was trying to say. You smiled, your hand finding his wrist once more. The new watch gleamed quietly between your fingers. Years from now, it would bear new scratches; it would accompany him through more journeys, more birthdays, and more ordinary mornings like this one. And every time he looked down to check the hour, he would see the same reminder engraved beneath the steel. Not of where he'd been but of exactly where he would always find his way back to.

The afternoon drifted by with the comfortable slowness that only birthdays seemed to have. By the time the sun began dripping lower in the sky once again, the house had settled into another pocket of quiet. The breakfast and lunch dishes had long since been washed. Sammy's drawing already occupied the very center of the refrigerator door, proudly held in place by two magnets despite being just crooked enough that Leon had refused to let you straighten it. "It has character," he'd insisted. You'd given up arguing.

Now, Leon sat comfortably on the sofa, one arm stretched along the backrest while Sammy lay upside down beside him, both of them immersed in the cartoons. The television murmured quietly in the background, swallowing the low hum of the fan hanging on the ceiling and the quiet tick-tack of the Hamilton. His old Casio had already found a place inside the drawer of the hallway table, safely kept.

Leon's phone suddenly buzzed against the armrest. The screen lit up with a familiar name. Leon smiled before answering. "You remembered." On the screen appeared Chris' familiar face, sunlight almost blinding behind him. Judging by the gentle sound of waves and the bright blue sky stretching endlessly in the backgrow¡und, the vacation seemed to be treating him well. "Told you I wouldn't forget," he said proudly. "You've only called..." Leon glanced theatrically towards the ceiling. "...about six hours after waking up." Leon teased. "I was busy," Chris scoffed immediately. "You were sleeping," Leon kept teasing him. "I was on vacation," Chris corrected as he laughed. "You look awful," Chris mocked your husband. "So do you," Leon mocked him back. Sometimes you truly wondered if they really liked each other or if they'd been pretending so for all these years.

For a few minutes, the conversation settled into the easy rhythm it always had. Work, the weather, Chris complaining that Piers had recently discovered the word 'why' and now seemed determined to ask it roughly four hundred times a day, Leon admitted that Sammy had entered a phase where every blanket in the house somehow became a cape. Neither of them sounded particularly surprised.

Then, from somewhere outside the camera, a tiny familiar voice could be heard. "Dada!" Chris barely had time to react. A tiny blur of brunnette curls suddenly climbed into his lap. Piers appeared so abruptly that for a second all Leon could see was one enormous blue eye pressed far too close to the camera. Then the picture steadied. "There he is," Leon laughed.

Piers grinned from ear to ear. "Unca Leo!" He said excitedly. "Hey, buddy." The little boy bounced excitedly where he sat. "Happy birthday!" Every single word was delivered with enormous effort and even greater enthusiasm. Chris smiled behind him. "We've been practicing that all morning," Chris confessed. "I can tell," Leon laughed. Piers looked incredibly proud of himself. Then he clapped, entirely unprompted.

Almost immediately, another pair of ears perked up. Sammy's head snapped away from the television with wide eyes. "Piers?" The moment he heard his best friend's voice through the speakers, nothing else in the room existed anymore. He launched himself off the sofa. "Piers!" Leon barely had enough time to lower the phone before Sammy climbed halfway into his lap.

Both little boys stared at each other through the screen with the kind of excitement only toddlers seemed capable of producing. "Piers!" Sammy repeated. "Ami!" They both giggled. Neither of them waited for the other to finish speaking. Words tumbled over one another in a delightful mess of half-formed sentences.

"I cook for Papa!"

"I beach!"

"I birthday!"

"I sand!"

"I draw Papa!"

"I dig hole!"

Neither conversation had anything whatsoever to do with the previous one; neither child appeared remotely bothered. Chris and Leon exchanged the same amused look they'd shared countless times over the years. They weren't really part of the conversation anymore; they were simply the people holding the phones.

Piers suddenly disappeared from the screen. A loud voice echoed somewhere off-camera. "Truck!" A second later, he returned carrying what appeared to be a bright yellow toy excavator almost as large as his own head. He proudly held it towards the camera. Sammy gasped. "I have dinosaur!" Without another word, he slid off Leon's lap. Leon frowned. "Buddy?" Sammy had already grabbed the phone. "I show Piers," he said, already running towards his bedroom. "You can show him from here!" Leon yelled across the living room. "No." His answer came with absolute certainty. "My room."

Before Leon could negotiate any further, Sammy had already reached his bedroom door. "Piers, look!" He said. Chris' voice disappeared into distant laughter as he apparently decided there was no point in stopping the inevitable. The screen bounced dramatically with every tiny footstep. The ceiling, the wall, half of his desk, a very close view of Sammy's forehead.

Leon watched helplessly as his phone got stolen. A second later, excited toddler voices erupted again from your son's bedroom. "...Rawr!" "Broom!" "Dinosaur!" "Truck!" More giggling followed. Then complete nonsense.

Leon leaned back against the sofa with a quiet sigh. "You know..." He looked towards the hallway where his phone had disappeared. "I don't think that's my phone anymore." You laughed softly as you settled beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. "It belongs to them now," you stated. Somewhere upstairs came another burst of delighted laughter. Then the unmistakable sound of toy dinosaurs colliding with construction vehicles again. Chris' voice drifted faintly through the speakers. "Piers, don't put the phone on the-." The sentence cut off.

Leon smiled to himself. "Bet he's having a great vacation," he said with a smug smile. You snorted, intertwining your fingers with his. Neither of you moved. The evening sun painted the living room in warm shades of gold like every day. The refrigerator was visible from where you sat. Right in the center, a slightly wrinkled drawing caught Leon's attention once again.

Three colorful stick figures, above their heads, written in giant crooked letters: 'Happy birthday, Papa'. Leon looked at it for a long moment. Then his gaze shifted towards the staircase, where the distant sound of two tiny best friends continued filling the house. He smiled.