#make-out session

You tiptoed back down the hallway, exhaling slowly as you rubbed your shoulder from the hours of swaying, bouncing, and lullaby-humming. Giyu stood at the end of the hallway leaning against the doorframe, dressed in soft black sweatpants and a plain gray tee, hair loosely tied back.

“She asleep?” he asked, voice hushed and low.

“She better be,” you said, pressing your index finger to your lips. “I just aged five years trying to get her to nap.”

Giyu chuckled—quietly, of course—and reached for you as you approached. His hand slid around your waist, fingers splayed and familiar, guiding you gently into him.

“Good,” he murmured, tilting his head to brush his lips against yours, “because I’ve been waiting all day.”

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours—warm, slow, and just a little needy. The kind of kiss that reminded you you weren’t just a mom, but his partner. His love. His wife.

You melted into him, sighing softly as your hands curled into his shirt. His grip tightened on your waist as he nudged you backward, walking you gently into the bedroom until the back of your knees hit the bed. He didn’t push—he didn’t need to. The heat of his lips against yours, the subtle growl in his throat when your nails scraped lightly up the back of his neck… it was more than enough.

You pulled him down with you as you laid back, your legs curling instinctively around his waist. He smiled against your lips, his hand slipping beneath your shirt to trace the soft skin just above your hip. Goosebumps followed in his wake.

“I missed you today,” he murmured, brushing kisses along your jaw. “You’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“You mean keeping your child alive?” you teased breathlessly.

“Our child,” he corrected, dipping his head to your throat, where he kissed a sensitive spot that made you squirm. “But I’d still like some time with you too.”

You laughed softly until he nipped gently at your neck, dragging another sound from you entirely. His body pressed flush against yours, his hand cradling your thigh while his other kept you anchored close.

The kiss deepened—slower but more intense. You sighed into his mouth, letting your body respond, your hands trailing along the lines of his back. The kind of moment you hadn’t had in weeks. The kind that made your heart ache with love and your body ache with longing.

Just as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts—

“WAAAAHHHH!!”

The shrill cry from the monitor sliced through the tension like a knife. You both groaned in perfect sync.

Giyu dropped his forehead to your collarbone. “She has a sixth sense.”

“She really does,” you whispered with a weak laugh. “Sorry.”

He lifted his head just enough to kiss your lips once more, slow and sweet, despite the infant siren call blaring in the background.

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You’re doing everything, and you’re still so beautiful it makes me insane.”

You blinked, flushed.

Then, with a final kiss to your cheek, he pushed up off the bed. “I’ll get her.”

“Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “Let me go with you.”

He smiled, eyes full of something that almost made your breath catch—like love was a tangible thing in that moment.

“Okay,” he murmured.

Together, you padded back down the hallway, your fingers brushing together between your bodies. The monitor still buzzed as your daughter cried, demanding attention.

But even through the exhaustion and interruptions, Giyu’s hand found yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.

You weren’t alone.