Work Text:
Sangwon decides that pregnancy is a scam on a random Tuesday evening.
It isn’t sudden, but more like the end of something he’s been thinking about for a while. Over the past several months, Sangwon has endured a wide variety of indignities that he had never anticipated before agreeing to carry a child. His back aches at random times of the day. His sleep schedule has turned into something chaotic and unreliable. His cravings make absolutely no sense even to him. And perhaps worst of all, his emotions have developed a dramatic flair that makes every inconvenience feel like a personal betrayal.
Tonight simply happens to be the moment he officially decides that pregnancy itself cannot be trusted.
Not the baby. The baby is fine. The baby is loved, wanted, and already the center of Geonwoo’s entire universe. Sangwon has seen the way his husband talks to his belly like the baby can already understand him, the way he pauses during conversations just to feel the small kicks under his palm as if they are secret messages meant only for him.
Sometimes, Geonwoo even greets the baby when he comes home from work, leaning down to murmur a quiet hello against Sangwon’s shirt fabric over his belly before he has properly greeted Sangwon himself.
The baby, objectively speaking, has done nothing wrong.
Pregnancy itself, however, is deeply despicable.
Especially tonight.
“Geonwoo,” Sangwon calls from the living room, his voice carrying the kind of weary dramatics that suggest he has been personally wronged by the universe. He doesn’t raise his voice very loudly, but there is a soft tremble in it, announcing that something terrible has happened and immediate attention is required.
From the kitchen, Geonwoo answers automatically. “Yes, sweetheart?”
The response is calm, warm, and immediate, like it always is. Geonwoo has grown very used to Sangwon calling for him these days. Sometimes, it’s because Sangwon wants a snack. Sometimes, it’s because the baby kicked and he wants Geonwoo to feel it. Or sometimes, it’s because Sangwon simply wants company.
Sangwon sniffles. It echoes faintly through the living room area, loud enough that it immediately signals distress. The sound hangs in the air for a moment, suspiciously dramatic.
In the kitchen, Geonwoo pauses mid-slice over the cutting board. The knife stops halfway through a strawberry as he tilts his head slightly, listening. He knows that sniffle.
That particular sniffle usually means one of two things: Sangwon is about to cry, or Sangwon is about to deliver a very passionate complaint about something extremely specific.
Either way, immediate attention is required.
A few seconds later, Geonwoo appears holding a bowl of sliced apples and strawberries, as if he has arrived in response to an emergency call. He was already preparing the fruit for Sangwon anyway, anticipating the possibility that his husband might want a late-night snack.
Carrying the bowl carefully into the living room, his expression is both attentive and concerned. “Hm? What happened?” he asks immediately.
His gaze sweeps across Sangwon with attentiveness. It has become second nature for him to perform this quick visual check ever since the pregnancy progressed far enough that Sangwon started experiencing occasional discomfort. He looks for the small signs first. Whether Sangwon is clutching his stomach, shifting restlessly, or wincing in a way that might suggest that something hurts.
Sangwon is sprawled across the couch in a nest of blankets due the cool evening air drifting through the slightly open window. Two blankets are wrapped around him like armor, and the oversized hoodie he stole from Geonwoo stretches across the unmistakable curve of his belly. His hair sticks out in soft, chaotic waves that suggest he has been lying there for a while, thinking deeply about whatever crisis has currently captured his attention.
Slowly, with the gravity of someone presenting very serious evidence, Sangwon points accusingly at his stomach. “This.”
Geonwoo blinks. “The baby?”
“Yes, the baby!” Sangwon says, deeply offended by the question. His upset voice carries sharply as someone who cannot believe the answer was not immediately obvious.
“Your baby.”
Geonwoo walks over and sets the fruit bowl down carefully on the coffee table before responding. His movements are unhurried and calm, the quiet patience of someone who has already experienced many pregnancy-related complaints and knows that reacting too quickly will only escalate the situation.
“Our baby,” he corrects gently.
“Your baby,” Sangwon repeats stubbornly, folding his arms as if the matter has already been settled.
Geonwoo exhales slowly, the sound soft with resignation and affection at the same time. “…Okay.”
Sangwon’s lip trembles. The shift happens so suddenly that Geonwoo’s entire expression changes at once. Concern replaces the amusement displayed on his face immediately. He crouches down in front of the couch so he is at eye level with Sangwon, his hands hovering uncertainly for a moment before settling lightly on Sangwon’s knees.
“Wait—don’t cry,” he says quickly. “What’s wrong? Does something hurt?”
“No!”
“Did the baby kick too hard?”
“No!”
Geonwoo hesitates, searching Sangwon’s face for clues. “Are you uncomfortable again?”
Sangwon suddenly grabs the front of Geonwoo’s shirt with both hands. “We can’t have sex!”
The silence that follows is impressive. Geonwoo blinks slowly, clearly processing the statement and the emotional weight Sangwon has attached to it. “…That’s why you’re crying?”
“Yes!”
The confession bursts out of Sangwon with all the emotional force of a tragedy that has been building quietly inside him for days. His grip on Geonwoo’s shirt tightens as if the words themselves might escape if he does not physically anchor them in place. From his perspective, the problem is enormous. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since their last doctor’s appointment, growing more and more irritated every time his hormones decide to remind him that his body is still very much interested in intimacy even if the situation currently discourages it.
From Geonwoo’s perspective, however, the statement arrives with a slightly different weight. He stares at Sangwon for a moment, blinking slowly as the situation settles into place in his mind. The dramatic sniffles, the wounded expression, the spiteful finger pointed at his stomach earlier. All of it suddenly makes perfect sense.
The truth is, the situation is actually temporary.
At Sangwon’s last prenatal checkup days ago, the doctor had recommended they pause sex for a little while. It wasn’t presented as a serious restriction, but just a precaution while Sangwon’s body adjusted to a few pregnancy complications that had been making him more sensitive and prone to discomfort. The doctor had explained it calmly, reassuring them both that everything looked healthy, that the baby was doing well, and that this kind of recommendation was fairly common.
Geonwoo nodded responsibly, already accepting the advice without much hesitation.
Sangwon nodded too. At the time, it had seemed like a small thing. Then, later that night, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling while Geonwoo brushed his teeth in the bathroom, Sangwon had slowly realized what that advice actually meant. And ever since then, the universe seemed strangely determined to test him.
Geonwoo presses his lips together now, fighting a smile that threatens to appear despite the seriousness Sangwon clearly feels about the situation. His shoulders shake once as he tries to hold the reaction in, but the effort only lasts a few seconds before the amusement slips through anyway.
“Baby,” he says gently, his tone halfway between sympathy and disbelief, “you woke me up at two in the morning last week because you wanted pickles dipped in melted chocolate.”
Sangwon frowns immediately. “That was important.”
Geonwoo continues patiently, clearly building his case. “You cried yesterday because the grocery store ran out of the yogurt you like.”
“Traitors.”
“And now you’re crying because we can’t have sex.”
Sangwon clutches his stomach dramatically, leaning back into the couch as if the weight of the injustice might physically crush him. “Do you know how long a few weeks is?”
“Yes.”
“Too long!”
Geonwoo laughs. The sound escapes before he can stop it, soft at first and then louder when Sangwon’s offended expression grows even more dramatic.
Sangwon gasps like he has been personally betrayed. “You’re laughing at me!”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are!”
Geonwoo tries to recover his composure, but the attempt fails almost immediately. The situation itself is simply too absurd, especially with Sangwon bundled in blankets like a very angry burrito.
Sangwon smacks his shoulder. “You’re horrible!” he complains. “Your husband is suffering!”
“I know,” Geonwoo says between quiet laughs. “My poor baby. Tragically deprived.”
Sangwon collapses backward into the couch cushions with a long, defeated groan. The blankets bunch around him as he sinks deeper into them, staring up at the ceiling like a person reflecting on a life full of disappointment. “This is torture.”
Geonwoo settles onto the couch beside him, the cushions dipping slightly under his weight. Without thinking, he reaches over and gently runs his fingers through Sangwon’s messy hair, smoothing it away from his forehead in a slow, calming motion.
“You miss sex,” he says calmly.
“Yes.”
“With me.”
“Yes!”
Geonwoo smiles softly at the immediate answer. “That’s flattering.”
Sangwon turns his head to glare at him.
But the truth is, this is not even the first time his hormones have betrayed him like this. Especially in the mornings.
The thought resurfaces suddenly, bringing with it the vivid memory of a very specific morning from the previous week. Sangwon groans and buries his face deeper into the blanket as the frustration returns all over again. “I also remember that last week was your fault, by the way.”
Geonwoo tilts his head slightly, genuinely confused by the accusation. “My fault?”
“Yes.”
“What did I do?”
Sangwon lifts his head just enough to fix him with a dramatic look of disbelief. “You wore that suit.”
Geonwoo stares at him for a moment, clearly trying to understand the logic behind the complaint. “…Baby,” he says slowly, “I wear a suit every day.”
“Exactly.”
Because last week was deeply unfair.
━━━━━━━━
Sunlight had been spilling lazily through the curtains, soft and golden as it filtered into the bedroom in narrow glowing strips. The light stretched across the marble floor and crept up the side of the bed, warming the rumpled blankets where Sangwon had been tangled in them. It had been one of those quiet mornings where the entire house seemed to breathe slowly—peaceful, unhurried, wrapped in that comfortable stillness that lingered just after dawn.
The air still carried faint traces of coffee from the kitchen, rich and warm, mingling with the fresh scent of Geonwoo’s shampoo drifting in from the bathroom. Somewhere down the hall, a cabinet had closed softly earlier, followed by the rustle of clothing as Geonwoo got dressed.
Sangwon had barely registered any of it at first.
He’s been half-asleep, floating somewhere between dreaming and waking, his mind sluggish and unfocused the way it often was these days. Pregnancy had turned mornings into a strange haze of slow thoughts and heavy limbs, and at that moment, he was perfectly content to remain buried beneath the blankets a little longer. The mattress was warm beneath him, the sheets twisted loosely around his legs, and the pillow still held the lingering warmth from where Geonwoo had slept beside him earlier.
Everything felt soft and comfortable.
That was until Sangwon finally opened his eyes properly.
Across the room, Geonwoo was standing in front of the mirror, focused on adjusting his tie. Sangwon had immediately decided that the universe was personally against him.
Geonwoo had already buttoned most of his shirt, the crisp white fabric sitting neatly over his shoulders. Only the top button remained undone, leaving just enough space at the collar for his tie to sit comfortably. His sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms as he fastened his cufflinks, revealing warm-toned skin and the subtle movement of muscle beneath it every time his fingers shifted.
His hair was still slightly damp from the shower, dark strands falling naturally into place as he tilted his head, focusing on straightening the knot of his tie. There was something deeply unfair about how effortlessly put together he looked.
Why is my husband out here looking like a whole meal just for work?
It was barely morning, and yet Geonwoo somehow managed to appear like the kind of person who belonged in glossy magazine advertisements for expensive watches or tailored suits. Calm, composed, and annoyingly handsome in that effortless way that made Sangwon suddenly aware of exactly how attractive his husband was.
Sangwon watched him for several long seconds without saying anything. Then, his brain completely stopped cooperating. “Babe,” he mumbled sleepily from the bed, his voice rough with leftover sleep.
Geonwoo’s eyes lifted toward the mirror immediately. The moment he noticed Sangwon awake, his expression softened without hesitation. “Hm? Good morning, baby.”
Still half buried beneath the blankets, Sangwon lifted one lazy hand and patted the mattress beside him. “Come here.”
Geonwoo didn’t question it.
He loosened his tie slightly and walked over to the bed, the quiet sound of his footsteps crossing the floor. When he reached the edge of the mattress, he leaned down slightly so he could see Sangwon properly.
His expression was gentle, curious, and attentive—the same soft patience he always had whenever Sangwon called for him. “What is it?”
That was the moment Sangwon grabbed the tie. The fabric tightened instantly in his hand as he tugged. Geonwoo, completely unprepared for the sudden pull, stumbled forward with a surprised sound before Sangwon guided him down toward the bed.
Their mouths met halfway. The kiss started soft and warm, with the lingering quiet of the morning.
For half a second, Geonwoo froze in surprise, clearly caught off guard by the sudden ambush. Then, instinct took over. His body relaxed into the moment, one hand bracing against the mattress beside Sangwon, while the other settled carefully against Sangwon’s waist.
Sangwon tugged lightly on the tie again, drawing him closer. The kiss deepened.
Geonwoo’s lips were warm, with the kiss carrying the familiar comfort of years spent together. Sangwon tilted his head slightly, brushing his mouth against Geonwoo’s again with slow intention, clearly enjoying the way Geonwoo responded without hesitation.
Geonwoo exhaled softly through his nose. The sound was barely audible, but Sangwon felt the shift instantly. The hand resting on his waist tightened slightly, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if grounding himself.
There we go.
“Mhm...” Sangwon hummed quietly against his mouth, pleased with the reaction, and tugged him closer again by the tie. The motion was playful but deliberate, his fingers tightening just enough to keep Geonwoo leaning over him.
Geonwoo was now really distracted.
When the kiss finally broke for a breath, Sangwon didn’t pull away. Instead, he lingered close enough that their noses brushed, his lips ghosting against Geonwoo’s once more in a slow, teasing press. “You look so hot in this suit,” he murmured softly.
Geonwoo huffed a quiet laugh, though his voice had gone slightly lower now. “That’s suspicious.”
“Hey, I’m just complimenting my husband.”
“You’re plotting something.”
Sangwon smiled lazily against his mouth. “Maybe.”
Geonwoo studied him for a moment. Then he leaned down again anyway.
The second kiss lasted longer. This time, it was Geonwoo who deepened it first, his hand sliding a little higher along Sangwon’s side as he tilted his head. The movement remained gentle, careful around Sangwon’s body, but there was a warmth behind it now that made Sangwon feel a quiet spark of triumph. His breath caught as Geonwoo’s fingers pressed in just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to hold.
The kiss grew slower, deeper, and unhurried that made it harder to think. Geonwoo’s lips moved with quiet confidence now, and Sangwon found himself responding without hesitation.
His hand curled into Geonwoo’s shirt, pulling him closer without even realizing it.
Geonwoo hummed softly against his mouth at that, the sound low and pleased, and the hand at Sangwon’s side tightened just a fraction before easing again, as if reminding himself to be careful. But he didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in more, letting the kiss deepen until it turned almost dizzying.
For a few seconds, the rest of the world seemed to disappear entirely. The morning light, the quiet house, the responsibilities waiting outside the bedroom… they all faded into the background while the moment stretched between them.
Then, Geonwoo suddenly stilled. The change was subtle at first, but Sangwon noticed it immediately when the kiss slowed.
Geonwoo pulled back slightly and glanced at his watch and sighed. “…I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”
Sangwon stared at him in disbelief. “You’re choosing work over your pregnant husband?”
“I’m choosing to be employed so I can spoil you and our baby.”
“You don’t love me.”
Geonwoo smiled faintly. “I married you.”
“You’re abandoning me in my time of need!”
Geonwoo leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, clearly trying—and failing—not to laugh. “I love you. You’ll survive.”
“I won’t.”
“Sweetheart, you will.” Then, cruelly, he straightened up and went back to fixing his tie.
Sangwon watched him from the bed, eyes narrowing. His earlier triumph slipped quickly into something that felt a lot like betrayal. But then, “…Babe.”
“Yes?” Geonwoo answered absently, still focused on his reflection as he adjusted the knot.
“Come here again, please.”
Geonwoo hesitated briefly, but crossed the distance to the bed anyway.
That was all Sangwon needed. The tie went tight in his grip.
Geonwoo barely caught himself as he was pulled forward, a surprised breath leaving him before Sangwon caught his collar and kissed him again. As soon as their lips met again, a breathy, relieved sound left Sangwon, vibrating softly between them.
This time, it wasn’t just playful. Sangwon kissed him slowly at first, almost teasing, letting their lips press and linger before he deepened it. His grip tightened just enough to keep Geonwoo close as he tilted his head, parting his lips and drawing him in properly this time.
Geonwoo made a soft sound, half laugh, half something quieter, as the kiss shifted. It didn’t stay light for long. He responded instinctively, mouth opening against Sangwon’s, the tongue fighting turning hot and heavy in seconds.
Sangwon’s arms came up around his neck, pulling him closer as he leaned in, taking his time to drag each movement out. When their tongues brushed, it was slow at first, testing, and then more certain. The kiss turned deeper, wetter, messier, which made it hard to keep breathing evenly.
A quiet, muffled sound slipped from Geonwoo as he gave in completely, his hand sliding up to Sangwon’s side to steady himself. His fingers pressed in just slightly, careful but firm, as he leaned into the kiss instead of away from it. The air thickened with heat, and the way his pregnant husband felt soft, warm, and undeniably sexy in his arms while kissing him like this only made it worse.
They didn’t rush. Every shift of their mouths lingered, every breath shared too warm and too close. Sangwon kept him there, not letting him pull back, drawing it out until the kiss felt almost dizzying again.
And just when it started to tip into something even heavier—
His phone alarm went off.
The sharp chime cut straight through everything. Geonwoo let out a low, frustrated breath against Sangwon’s mouth, his forehead dropping briefly against his as he closed his eyes. “…I really have to go.”
Sangwon flopped backward onto the pillows with dramatic defeat, sounding like someone who had just experienced the greatest tragedy of his life. “Fine,” he said miserably. “Leave me here. Alone. With your child.”
Geonwoo leaned down again, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and then to his lips, lingering just a little too long. His hand stayed on him, warm and steady. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
He pulled back slowly, clearly reluctant, before finally forcing himself to go.
And the moment the bedroom door clicked shut, the house falling quiet behind him, Sangwon slowly lifted his head and glared down at his stomach. “This is your fault, aegi.”
The baby kicks immediately. “Ow! I’m kidding!”
Later that afternoon, during a rare moment in his workday, Geonwoo finally allows himself a moment to pause. He leans back slightly in his chair, rolling his shoulders as he glances around his office. The usual afternoon quiet has settled over the space—keyboards clicking softly, the low murmur of distant conversations drifting through the hallways, papers rustling somewhere across the building floor.
His meeting earlier that morning had run longer than expected, and the rest of the day had followed in a steady blur of emails and discussions. Only now, with a few minutes of calm, does he finally reach for his phone.
Almost immediately, Sangwon’s face comes to mind. Specifically, the dramatically offended expression he had been wearing when Geonwoo left the house that morning.
The memory makes Geonwoo smile faintly. He unlocks his phone and types a quick message.
Did you forgive me yet?
The reply arrives almost instantly.
Geonwoo doesn’t even need to see Sangwon to imagine exactly how he must look right now—still curled up either on the couch or on the bed, arms crossed stubbornly, probably still glaring at his phone screen.
no.
you abandoned your pregnant husband
how cruel.
Geonwoo exhales a quiet laugh beneath his breath. He sends back a laughing emoji and a heart, already picturing the dramatic eye roll Sangwon will give the screen when he sees it.
When Geonwoo finally returns home that evening, the house greets him with the warm, familiar quiet. The lights in the living room were already on, casting a soft golden glow over the couch and coffee table. Somewhere nearby, a faint sweet scent lingers in the air—probably from whatever snack Sangwon had been craving earlier.
Sangwon is exactly where Geonwoo expected him to be.
He sits in the corner of the living room couch, wrapped securely in blankets. His arms remain crossed over his chest, his posture radiating the unmistakable energy of someone who has fully committed to remaining dramatically offended.
Geonwoo barely steps through the door before Sangwon announces his position.
“I’m still mad at you.”
Geonwoo closes the door behind him and calmly removes his coat before walking into the living room. His movements are unhurried, completely unfazed by the declaration. “Of course you are,” he says simply.
Sangwon watches him with narrowed eyes. “You left me.”
“I went to work, sweetheart.”
“You chose capitalism over love.”
Geonwoo walks over to the couch and leans down slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Sangwon’s head. His lips linger there for a brief moment, warm against the soft strands of his hair. “But you survived,” he jokingly murmurs.
Sangwon huffs quietly in response. The resistance lasts all of five seconds. Gradually—almost unconsciously—he leans sideways until his shoulder presses against Geonwoo’s side.
Geonwoo doesn’t comment on the change. Instead, he simply shifts slightly so Sangwon can settle more comfortably beside him, his arm lifting naturally to wrap around Sangwon’s shoulders. The gesture is effortless, practiced through years of small moments just like this.
His hand comes to rest over Sangwon’s stomach. Warmth spreads through the fabric of the Sangwon’s shirt as his palm curves gently over the round shape beneath it.
Almost immediately, the baby shifts. Geonwoo feels the small movement beneath his hand and smiles faintly, his thumb beginning to move in slow circles without him even noticing. “Hey, buddy. Still awake there?” he murmurs softly.
Sangwon tilts his head back slightly so he can look up at him. “You’re encouraging them again.”
“I’m greeting them.”
“You know you’re raising a troublemaker, right?”
Geonwoo hums thoughtfully. “Hm.. that might be genetic.”
Sangwon squints up at him suspiciously. “Excuse me?”
Before Sangwon can fully begin arguing, Geonwoo leans down and presses a quick kiss to his temple. “Relax,” he murmurs softly and chuckles. “They’re clearly taking after both of us.”
Sangwon huffs again, but doesn’t move away. In fact, he shifts closer. Pregnancy has made him more emotional than he ever expected, and though he complains constantly about the discomfort and frustration, moments like this have quietly become important to him. The warmth of Geonwoo’s arm around him, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting weight of his hand resting protectively over the baby.
It makes him feel safe in a way he doesn’t always know how to explain.
━━━━━━━━
Back in the present, in the same setting at their living room, Sangwon folds his arms stubbornly across his chest, the thick blanket pooled around his waist shifting slightly as he sinks deeper into the corner of the couch. The cushions dip beneath his weight, warm from where he has been sitting for a while now, but his posture remains rigid with exaggerated irritation.
Even now, the memory lingers vividly in his mind—the warmth of that morning, the way Geonwoo had looked standing by the mirror in his suit, the way the kiss had almost turned into something much more before reality had so rudely interrupted. The thought alone is enough to irritate him all over again.
Because really, the whole situation had been completely unfair.
His body had very clearly wanted one thing. Geonwoo had very clearly wanted it too. And yet somehow, the universe had decided that doctor’s instructions and inconveniently timed meetings were more important than Sangwon’s very real suffering.
Now, the problem has only grown worse. Pregnancy hormones have turned his emotions into an unpredictable mess, his patience has become dangerously thin, and the frustrating restriction still hangs over them like a particularly cruel joke.
“You and the baby are ruining my life,” Sangwon declares solemnly, glaring down at the gentle curve of his belly as if the tiny person inside might actually understand the accusation.
The words have barely left his mouth when something presses outward beneath the soft fabric of his hoodie. The movement is small, but unmistakable. Sangwon jerks in surprise, a startled sound slipping out before he can stop it. His hand flies to his stomach instinctively, fingers splaying across the warm curve as he stares down at it in stunned disbelief.
Across from him, Geonwoo bursts into laughter. It isn’t the quiet kind he usually tries to hide behind his hand. It’s bright, genuine, and completely uncontrolled. He leans forward slightly as it spills out, one hand rising to cover his mouth even though the grin, which is very obvious from the curve of the corners of his mouth, spreading across his face makes the effort pointless.
“See?” he manages between breaths, amusement dancing clearly in his voice. “They heard that.”
Sangwon narrows his eyes suspiciously at his stomach, clearly considering this development with great seriousness. “They’re violent,” he mutters darkly.
“They’re defending themselves,” Geonwoo replies easily, the corners of his mouth still lifted in an unrestrained smile.
Sangwon continues glaring down at the small bump beneath his hoodie, clearly unwilling to accept defeat in this argument. “You’re grounded,” he informs the baby firmly.
As if responding directly to the declaration, another kick presses outward beneath Geonwoo’s resting hand. This one was stronger.
Geonwoo’s shoulders shake again as laughter escapes him once more, the absurdity of the moment settling over him completely now. Watching Sangwon scold an unborn baby with such genuine seriousness is far more entertaining than it probably should be.
“Stop encouraging them!” Sangwon complains, swatting lightly at Geonwoo’s arm.
Geonwoo only laughs again, the sound softer this time as it settles into the quiet of their home. The playful energy of the moment slowly fades, leaving behind the comfortable warmth that always seems to fill the house whenever they stay together like this.
For a while, neither of them says anything.
Sangwon slowly relaxes against him, the earlier tension slipping away as he sinks deeper into the couch cushions. The blankets pooled around his legs feel heavier now, pleasantly warm, and Geonwoo’s arm around his shoulders provides a steady, familiar comfort that makes it harder to stay stubbornly offended.
His eyelids begin to droop before he even realizes it. A small yawn escapes him before he can stop it. Eventually, Geonwoo notices and glances down at him. “You’re getting sleepy.”
“I’m not.”
“You just yawned.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Geonwoo chuckles softly. “Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s get you to bed.”
By the time they reach the bedroom, Sangwon’s earlier stubborn energy has faded completely. Pregnancy fatigue truly settles over him so heavy, slow and unavoidable. His limbs feel warm and sluggish as he climbs into bed, the soft mattress dipping beneath him. The sheets are cool at first when he slides beneath them, but they quickly warm as he curls onto his side.
Geonwoo switches off the lamp before joining him a moment later.
The room falls quiet in the dim darkness. For a moment, neither of them moves.
Then Sangwon shifts closer. And then closer again. Until he is practically pressed against Geonwoo’s side.
Geonwoo glances down at him. “…Comfy?”
“No.”
“You’re literally on top of me.”
“Pregnant privileges.”
Geonwoo laughs quietly, the sound low and warm in the quiet room. He wraps an arm around Sangwon anyway, pulling him a little closer so he can rest comfortably against his chest.
Sangwon settles there immediately, his head resting against Geonwoo’s shoulder while one hand drifts lazily over his belly once again.
A small kick presses outward beneath his palm. Geonwoo notices it instantly. “Hey,” he murmurs softly, placing his hand over Sangwon’s.
“Don’t start talking to them again,” Sangwon mutters sleepily.
“Why not?”
“Because they already like you more.”
Geonwoo smiles faintly in the darkness. “Not a chance. I’ve already accepted that they’re going to love you more than me. How could they not?”
Another small movement presses against his palm. Geonwoo lowers his voice slightly, speaking toward Sangwon’s stomach like he always does. “Listen,” he whispers. “Your daddy's being dramatic again.”
Sangwon opens one eye. “I heard that.”
“I’m just informing them.”
“No, you’re turning them against me.”
Geonwoo presses a soft kiss into Sangwon’s hair. “They already know you’re dramatic.”
Sangwon grumbles something unintelligible and burrows deeper into the blankets. Eventually his breathing begins to slow as sleep pulls him under. But just before he drifts off completely, he murmurs quietly against Geonwoo’s shoulder. “…Geonwoo.”
“Hm?”
“When the doctor says we can have sex again…”
Oh. Geonwoo already knows exactly where this conversation is going. “Yes?”
Sangwon’s voice is quiet with sleep, but stubborn as ever. “We’re celebrating.”
Geonwoo chuckles softly into the darkness. “We’ll see.” For a second, memories of their bed shenanigans flickered through his mind. Oh, he’d love to celebrate, alright. But before his thoughts could spiral, particularly with his very hot and very pregnant partner at the center of them, he forced himself to shake them off.
Sangwon weakly smacks his chest. “No ‘we’ll see’.”
Geonwoo pulls him closer. “Alright,” he murmurs gently between chuckles. “We’ll celebrate.”
Satisfied, Sangwon smiles and relaxes completely against him. Within minutes, his breathing evens out as sleep finally claims him.
Geonwoo stays awake a little longer.
His hand remains resting over Sangwon’s belly, feeling the occasional small movement beneath it. The reality of it still amazes him every time—there is a tiny person in there, growing quietly, already reacting to their voices and the warmth of their hands.
He presses a soft kiss into Sangwon’s forehead. “Good night, baby,” he whispers.
A small kick answers him.
Geonwoo smiles into the darkness. “Yeah,” he murmurs quietly. “Good night to you too.”