Work Text:
Aventurine places his hat on his head then slings his coat over his shoulder, smiling, "I'm going on paternity leave."
Topaz, who was previously diligently working away at her tablet, now states at him with her mouth gaping open like he said something truly horrific. "You what?" she exclaims, eyes never blinking.
"Yeah," the blonde chuckles, "Is that really so unbelievable?" he turns to exit her office, not willing to wait a moment more, even as she sputters for him to wait a second for more questioning. He could not spare another second when he had a lovely and very pregnant little bird waiting for him at home.
It's his time to clock out anyway.
Once he arrives home, Aventurine slips off his coat and shoes, impatiently tossing them aside as he slinks further into his penthouse. Their home is incredibly silent, and he imagines Sunday is likely sleeping the day away like he has been for the past few days. The halovian is over six months in his pregnancy, a little egg manifesting in his belly, and Aventurine really wants to be there with him every step of the way. The IPC could handle him being gone for a few months probably; though, he didn't really care much about what they needed or thought. Now that he's going to be a father, that's all he could think about.
He opens the bedroom door a crack, peeping inside to search for any sort of life. Just as he thought, there's a little bump in the sheets where Sunday is sleeping so soundly. Aventurine laughs to himself before stepping inside quietly. He undresses a bit, leaving only his pants and undershirt, then shakes what he can make out on Sunday's little body is his leg.
"Sunday," Aventurine calls, voice just barely above a whisper. He reaches adjacent to himself to turn on the desk lamp. He calls for his husband again, to which he finally gets a response. The halovian wiggles from underneath the bedding, poking his fluffy head out with squinted eyes. He yawns and glances about the room before his eyes settle on his lover. His wings flutter slightly and Aventurine smiles.
"Good morning, angel," the blonde mumbles, stroking Sunday's hair.
Sunday nods in response then stretches his arms above his head. He wiggles a bit further upwards as best as he can with his swollen tummy until his back reaches the larger pillows that rest against the headboard. Aventurine can't help but caress the dove's face as he looks over his smaller figure; he can see Sunday's belly, even though he's wearing one of Aventurine's shirts, and he looks so sleepy yet content with himself.
The pregnancy mellowed out his personality and mood, and rather than having mood swings like other people's symptoms, he instead turned very soft. Now, unlike before when he was subjected to irritation and harsh glares whenever he accidentally sent Sunday off, Aventurine was met with gentle amenable eyes.
Sunday kisses Aventurine's palm, wings cradling his fingers and knuckles as he stares up at him with big, gentle eyes. The blonde massages his cheek and jaw area, feeling the vibrations of his dove's cooing and humming delightedly.
"Are you in any pain?" Aventurine asks, earning him a head shake. "How about food—are you hungry at all?" He receives another shake, and he sighs. Typically, or so he's read, pregnant people are hungry all the time; however, Sunday hasn't really felt the urge to eat much recently, Aventurine notes. He's beginning to feel extremely worried.
Leaning down until he's level with Sunday's eyes, "You need to eat something, angel. I've been gone all day." He doesn't let go of Sunday's face.
Sunday whispers, "Okay,"
Aventurine lightens up at this, pressing a kiss to his lips. He stands up fully and pulls back the sheets. "First, you need to get some exercise," he suggests. "I'm assuming you haven't left the bed all day?"
Sunday's wings twitch as if he's been caught, but he nods anyway.
The blonde helps him up then leads him to their closet and wardrobe. It's cold out today, so Aventurine picks out warm under layers for them both, then light over pieces. He removes Sunday's clothing—really, not much just his top and underwear—then pulls a turtleneck over his head. It's loose enough to fit over his tummy but still tight to keep him warm. He helps his husband with the pants, gently wringing them up.
Sunday blinks up slowly at him as he's slipping the loose maternity dress over his smaller body. Aventurine gives him another kiss, smoothing over his tummy area, before going to fetch his coat. He lets Sunday put it on himself, watching closely just in case he needs to help. For the final touch, he wraps the scarf Sunday's sister gave him as a baby shower present around his neck.
"You look so cute," Aventurine remarks with a large smile. His husband grins back, albeit shyly. "Oh! Would you like your mittens?"
Sunday's tiny voice responds, "Yes, please," Aventurine finds them easily and slips them over his hands.
After he's sorted out, Aventurine dresses himself quickly. He shuts off the light and exits the room with his dove. He fondly watches Sunday waddle about their home, leaning a bit with the weight of his stomach. He gets their hats, and before he can put it on for him, Sunday shakes his head.
"No, I'm okay,"
The blonde breathes out a laugh, teasing, "So talkative today, birdie!" He places his hand on his lower back and pulls him close. Sunday exhales in what Aventurine believes is a laugh before they both leave their house.
The elevator ride down is quiet but nice; Aventurine holds Sunday close, and the little halovian rests his head against his chest with coos he probably thinks aren't as loud as they actually are.
The air outside is sharp but not exactly painful; cold enough to make him shiver but not hurt. But he still wraps a protective arm around his husband, hoping it may just warm him up a little more. Their breaths puff into the winter air as they walk down the streets of Pier Point. The dusk hum of the city accompanies them. Aventurine keeps a slow pace with Sunday, making sure that he's also attentive to every movement he makes.
It isn't a very long walk to their destination, a small park nearby, but Sunday is huffing slightly. They sit down on a bench where the sun is shining. The blonde holds his hand as he catches his breath, his free hand coming to lay on his tummy.
With his eyes settled on his dove, he notices how beautiful he looks in the golden setting sunlight, face and body so radiant he's almost shining. Aventurine's heart almost skips a beat once he realizes this is the glow the media always talked about. Sunday looks overwhelmingly beautiful, so gorgeous and motherly, his skin tickled pink by the cold air. His eyes shimmer as he looks back at Aventurine, who's by now shamelessly staring.
Sunday's wings cover his face instinctively, but Aventurine removes them gently. He holds them between his fingers tenderly before moving his hands to brush away his dove's hair.
"You look so wonderful, little bird," Aventurine says in awe. Before Sunday can do anything, he leans over and kisses him. He hums at the whine that escapes Sunday but he continues to kiss him with the passion that has suddenly come upon him. He doesn't pull away until his lover is patting his hands. Aventurine swipes his tongue over Sunday's bottom lip then lets go. "So wonderful," he whispers again.
He feels warm as he rubs Sunday's stomach. He will be a great mother, and their child will grow up to be as great as he is too.
Aventurine is really glad he took that paternity leave.