Work Text:
***
Your goddaughter is the cutest thing in the world.
Matilda is a month old, and she has the cutest little nose, her cheeks pink and full, dressed in a fluffy yellow romper. She looks like Xinling, when she smiles, and she gurgles at you happily from where she"s tucked up against your shoulder. She"s just had her milk, and you"d offered to burp her, a towel draped over your shoulder as you pat her on the back and walk up and down the room.
You press your nose to the soft downy hair on her head, inhaling the sweet scent of milk and baby soap.
"You didn"t have to come all the way just to see us," Xinling repeats for what must be the hundredth time, looking at you from where she’s resting on the sofa, "we would have been headed up to Seoul anyway for your wedding."
"That"s still months away," you shoot back, "you"re my best friend, and this is my goddaughter, of course I"m going to come visit you."
Plane tickets aren"t that expensive, honestly, and there"s no way you were going to wait several months to see Xinling and her baby in real life. Video calls are well and good, but they can"t replicate the feeling of your best friend"s hugs and your goddaughter snuggled against your shoulder.
Xinling rolls her eyes, and you coo at Matilda again, patting her back. She"s a happy baby, and she"s so warm in your arms.
You turn to Chris, who has been sitting quietly with his tea while you and Xinling talk, and he"s looking at you with an odd softness to his eyes.
"Do you want to hold her?" you ask, and Chris blinks.
"Um-"
In a feat of impeccable timing, you pat Matilda firmly, and she belches out some of her lunch right onto the towel over your shoulder.
The look on Chris" face is hilarious, and Xinling"s cackling laughter echoes through the room.
***
You spend the whole day at Xinling"s house, cuddling Matilda close at every opportunity. Xinling rolls her eyes at you, but you can tell she"s grateful for the rest, that there"s someone else around to fuss over her baby. Chris makes an attempt at carrying Matilda, awkward and clearly terrified of dropping her, and you can"t help but coo at the sight, snapping several photos that are definitely going on Instagram.
He"s always been sweet, and it"s especially evident on occasions like this, when he willingly comes along with you on a trip where you"ll be spending most of the time doing nothing of excitement, just hanging out with your best friend and her baby. He’s content to sit around the house, singing soft nursery rhymes to Matilda and listening to you and Xinling snipe at each other when the baby naps.
You reluctantly relinquish your hold on your goddaughter when her father gets home from work, and Julian laughs, cradling Matilda against his chest.
"We"re lucky you live in Korea, Y/N," he jokes, "otherwise you"d steal our daughter away."
"Don"t give me ideas," you reply, and Xinling snorts.
"Go get your own baby," she says, flippantly, "Matilda is mine."
You roll your eyes at her, and then you meet Chris" gaze, his expression inscrutable, hunger and tenderness and nervousness all in one.
You blink, and then it"s gone, replaced with an easy smile as he asks Julian about work, and you put it out of your mind.
***
The next few days are spent with Xinling and Matilda, you and Chris joining them on walks to the park and visits to the supermarket. The truth is that Matilda is a month old, and sleeps most of the day away, but you"re glad to spend time with your best friend, Chris’ presence by your side warm and steady.
You hold Matilda close to you, whenever you can, and Chris looks at you with an expression of fondness whenever he sees you cuddled up with her, tinged with something else that you can"t quite place.
"You"re good with babies," he remarks, one evening in your hotel room. He"s lying on the bed, watching you take your hair out of the braid you"d put it into, and you laugh.
"I did a lot of babysitting jobs for cash, as a teenager, and Xinling has a whole village of cousins so I"d help look after them over the school breaks," you explain, "I do actually like children, contrary to what most people believe."
Chris laughs, and you smile, shaking your hair out and flopping down on the bed beside him.
He takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the ring on your finger, and you smile, reaching up so that you can kiss him, tangling your fingers in his messy dark hair.
He shifts, his tongue sliding between your lips, and it isn"t long before things get heated, hot and hungry.
You pull away, and sit up, pushing him back against the headboard so that you can climb into his lap, taking his face between your hands and kissing him again. He slips his hands under your t-shirt, warm and broad on your skin, and you sigh at the touch, rolling your hips so that you grind down on the hardness against your thigh.
He moans, and tugs you closer against him, needy in a way he rarely is.
“Someone"s worked up," you murmur, and he presses his face into your neck, the edges of his teeth grazing against skin.
"You smell good," he says.
You"re a bit confused by his statement, because as far as you know you just smell like deodorant and baby powder, from having Matilda in your arms most of the day, but you let him tug off your t-shirt, just before you pull his shirt up over his head.
One large hand comes to curl around your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple, the other curled around the waistband of your underwear, and you kiss him again, rolling your hips, one hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder.
You whine softly when he ducks his head and takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking at it, and you dig your fingers into the muscle of his back, grinding against him.
Chris pulls away, and his eyes are dark.
"Can I fuck you?"
"Yes," you breathe out, and the two of you make hasty work of what remains of your clothes. He"s grabby today, hungry, and you sigh when he thumbs over your clit. He sucks on his fingers, and then he sinks two of them into you, the stretch making you hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure.
Sometimes the two of you like to drag things out, letting time spool out before you like honey, but this clearly isn"t one of those times, his touches almost desperate, wanting.
"You"re in a mood, darling," you murmur, splayed out on the sheets with his fingers fucking your pussy open, and he mouths at your collarbones, sucking dark marks into your skin.
His cock hangs between his thighs, heavy and hard, and when you get your hand around him you hiss at the sharp sting of pain from when he bites you, his tongue flicking out to lick over the hurt, pressing a kiss to the teeth marks on your skin as he drives his fingers deeper into you.
"You just - you looked good, today," he mutters, "I couldn"t look away."
You arch your brow at him, even as you nudge his fingers out of you, bringing his hand to your mouth so that you can suck the taste of yourself from his fingers, enjoying the way his eyes widen and go even darker.
"What about today, Chris?" you ask, taking his cock in your hand again, and maybe you"re being mean to him, the way you guide his cock so that it"s right at the edge of your pussy, so close to sinking into your wet heat.
He whines, and you curl your fingers even tighter around him, one hand on his shoulder, holding him still.
He"s so much stronger than you, and if he wanted to he could just take what he wants, but he"s good for you, and so he just presses his mouth to your hair, breathing deep.
"Baby," Chris grits out, "please-"
"Tell me," you insist, because you"re in a mood too, the kind where you like having a pretty boy at your mercy, "what"s got you so worked up, sweetheart?"
He sucks in a breath, sharp and wanting.
"It"s just- you and a baby," he says, in a rush, "I just kept looking at you and wondering what it"d be like, if that baby was mine. Was ours."
He swallows then, the bob of his throat obvious, and you skim one hand over his jaw, turning him to look you in the eye.
"Oh, darling," you murmur, "is that what you"ve been thinking about? Filling me up, having a baby with me?"
You"re not sure where the filth that"s spilling from your lips is coming from, but Chris likes it, if the soft moan he lets out is any indicator, and, well -
You"ve always been reckless.
You let him push into you then, his cock sliding into the tight wet heat of your pussy, and he groans, hands coming to curl around your hips, pulling you closer.
You take the opportunity to bite bruises into his skin, sinking your teeth in every time he snaps his hips, the sharp jolt of pleasure deep and intense.
He tugs you away from his neck so that he can kiss you, and you curl one leg around his waist, urging him closer, to fuck you faster.
"I"d let you," you murmur into his ear, "I already let you fuck me raw all the time, I let you come in me whenever you want."
He gasps, and you smile.
"Do you like thinking about it? Filling me up, full of your cum," you carry on, his thrusts getting harder and faster, "do you think about me, swollen with your seed? With your baby?"
"Fuck, Y/N-" he starts, his breathing laboured, and you know he"s close.
You"re close too, and you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers moving over your clit, the punishing pace he"s fucking you at driving you towards the edge.
"Come on, sweetheart," you say, and you throw caution to the wind, "put a baby in me."
He groans, and thrusts into you so hard and deep you dig your fingers into his shoulders, nails leaving indents in his skin as you feel the pulse of his cock inside you, the warm spill of his cum within your walls.
He bats away the hand you have on your clit, and replaces it with his own fingers, thumbing at it roughly, working at a pace that has you gasping.
You clench around his half-hard cock, still buried in you, when you come, and then you tug him into a deep kiss, tender and sweet with the faintest edge of hunger.
You pull away, and he eases himself out of you, lying back on the bed and pulling you into his arms.
"Baby," he mutters, thumbing at your bottom lip, "your mouth is filthy."
"You liked it," you reply, biting his thumb gently when it slips into your mouth, an undeniable statement given the mess he"s made of your pussy.
"I suppose I did," he mutters, and his ears go a little red.
They get even redder when his gaze darts down to look at the trail of white that"s leaking out over your thighs, and you smile, shifting in the bed so that you can be the little spoon.
He pets your hair soothingly, pressing an absent kiss to the butterfly tattooed on your shoulder, and the two of you lay together in bed, tangled up in each other.
***
Later, you"re sitting on the balcony having a smoke after your shower, feeling relaxed and comfortable as smoke curls up into the sky and the city you grew up in sprawls out before you, still bustling and alive despite the lateness of the hour.
Chris comes out to join you, after drying his hair, and you giggle at how it"s all fluffy, curling over his ears and the back of his neck. It softens his features, and makes him seem a little gentler, a contrast to the intimidating persona he has on stage.
You take another puff of your cigarette, and he leans over to kiss you as you exhale, the smoke mingling between your mouths.
He sits down next to you, pulling a stick out from his own pack, the flame of the lighter illuminating his features, and the two of you just sit quietly, smoking your cigarettes and looking out at the night.
You tab through the messages on your phone, and show him the photos Xinling had texted you of Matilda fast asleep, dressed in the duckling onesie you"d found on Coupang, one of many gifts you"d bought for your best friend’s baby.
"She"s so cute," Chris says, and you sigh longingly, saving the pictures to your phone.
"I want to put her in my pocket and bring her back to Seoul," you tell him, a statement so dramatic that Hyunjin would be proud, and Chris laughs.
You smile at him, and set your phone aside, returning your attention to your cigarette.
Chris exhales a cloud of smoke into the air, and taps some ash into the ashtray.
"Hey, Y/N?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
You turn so that you can face him properly.
"What"s up?"
He bites his lip.
"Just now was... really hot, and I liked it a lot," he admits, "but I know that was just for play."
He looks up at you, and his eyes are so big and earnest.
"Have you ever thought about having kids?" he asks, and you tip your head at him, taking another long drag as you mull over his question.
"Always, but only in the abstract," you answer, honestly, and he nods. It"s the same answer you"d given, years ago, early in your relationship, when you"d first moved to Korea and sitting with Jiwoo and Jeongin while they worked on papers for their child psychology classes had led you two to the topic.
"Have you thought about it in the less abstract?" Chris asks, and you stub out the end of your cigarette.
"What do you mean?" you ask, and he puts his out as well, before taking your hands in his, clasping them together and running his thumb over the ring on your left hand.
"We"re getting married soon," he murmurs, soft and gentle, "and I"d like to start a family with you."
You blink at him.
You and Chris have lived together for years, your lives entwined, your wedding on the horizon, and maybe it"s shortsighted of you, but you hadn"t really considered how things could change after the fact, about how getting married was a step towards other things.
There was a time when the prospect of it would have sent you into a panic, your flight or fight response kicked into high gear, but while there"s anxiety high in your throat, you no longer have the instinct to run.
You know yourself better than anyone, after all, and the answer comes easy.
"I haven"t really thought about it," you admit, "but I"d like to start a family with you too."
Saying it out loud scares you a little, even as it fills you with warmth, but Chris" smile is bright and brilliant.
He brings your left hand to his lips, and kisses your ring again.
"I love you," he says, gently, and you smile.
"I love you too.”
***
"When are you going to give up that filthy habit?" Xinling asks, wrinkling her nose at you, and you roll your eyes at her, exhaling smoke into the air.
The two of you are sitting on the sidewalk of a café, snatching a few hours of time with each other the afternoon before your return flight to Seoul, Julian taking care of Matilda while Chris is off picking up some souvenirs for his friends.
She"s used to you and your menthols, and there was a time when she"d bum a stick or two off you when finals season got too intense, but things have changed.
"Not anytime soon," you say, "because the stress of all this wedding planning bullshit will kill me if I can"t smoke my way through it."
Xinling takes a sip of tea.
"That implies you"re thinking of quitting after you get married," she says, "not that I condone your nicotine addiction, but didn"t you and Chris meet over a cigarette?"
"Well," you start, waiting for her to take another gulp of tea so that you can time your response perfectly, "smoking has an adverse effect on fertility, and I"d like to have children sooner rather than later."
Xinling spits her tea back into her cup, and you tip your head back, laughing at her reaction.
"You did that on purpose," she complains, waving over the waiter so that she can get a new cup, but she"s smiling, and you grin at her.
She shakes her head, and pours herself a fresh cup of tea from the pot.
"You"re going to need to get a bigger apartment, just saying," she remarks, and you roll your eyes.
“God, let me get married first,” you respond.
She laughs at you, tucking one hand under her chin, propping her head up on the table.
“We’re getting old, aren’t we, Y/N?” she muses, and you look at her thoughtfully.
You’ve both come far from the sixteen-year-old girls you were when you first met, the two of you now thirty with the rest of your lives ahead of you, and it is its own kind of adventure, growing up and growing old.
“We are,” you answer, “but that’s not a bad thing at all.”
She holds up her cup of tea, and you pick up yours, the two cups clinking together in a late-afternoon parody of a toast.
“Not at all,” she echoes, and you smile.
***