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Blips, boops, and bopping music sound softly through the living room. Pixelated characters hop around the TV screen, one more confidently than the other, solving puzzles together. The clicking of buttons follows their movements.
Zayne shushes his daughter once again when she squeals in glee at getting to the next level. "We need to keep it down, sweetheart, remember?"
She gasps, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Oh no, I forgot!" she tries to whisper. He's useless to stop her when she looks up to the ceiling and shouts, "I'm sorry! I'll be quiet now!"
He smiles. He has no doubts that woke his partner up, though he's sure Sylus won't mind. Not really. Not if it's their little girl doing the waking.
He kisses her temple and brushes her hair back behind her ears. "Would you like to keep playing?"
She puffs her cheeks out, shaking her head. He takes her controller, gently removing the strap from her little wrist before he leans forward to set them on the coffee table. She twists in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He wraps an arm around her back to keep her in place. "Papa, can you braid my hair?"
"Of course."
She lights up with excitement as she squirms back around in his lap. He chuckles, leaning back so he doesn't get hit in the face by her flailing arms. She sits herself on his knees, legs kicking lightly as she does her best to push her hair back for him. He helps her, lithe fingers gathering her hair from her face and behind her shoulders, combing through gently to detangle any knots and tangles.
She babbles to him about her current favorites - animal, color, cartoon, storybook, plushie - as he separates her mess of hair into three sections. Though he knows how to braid, it's certainly nothing fancy. He's had plenty of practice with the children in the pediatrics ward, when they shyly come up to him to tug on his lab coat and ask if he can help. He never minds; it helps calm the child down before his examinations and the meticulousness of it helps him get his thoughts and questions in order.
Over and under, weaving hair together. Her hair is quite soft, too. His husband insists on getting her the best of the best in products. Even if she decides to cut it short one day, Sylus will always want it to be well taken care of.
When he gets to the bottom, he holds it all together with one hand and holds his other in front of his little girl. "Can you get a hair tie for me?"
She nods, almost pulling the braid from his hand, and does her best to pull the tie off his wrist. He finds himself keeping one on hand more often these days. There are even times he almost forgets to remove it before he preps for surgery. Yvonne commented on it once, mentioning how nice it was for Zayne to always have one handy for the kids in the ward. He'd nodded politely and moved on, unsure how to tell her he simply put it on that morning with his watch in pure muscle memory.
He opens the tie around his fingers and wraps it multiple times around the end. Once it's secure, he lets the braid go. "How's that, sweetheart?"
She grabs it over her shoulder, loosening a few strands in her effort to look at it. "It's perfect, Papa!"
A hand stretches out over Zayne to tap the girl on the head. She gasps as she spins around, head tilting back to peer up at the man behind the couch. Sylus grins sleepily, raising an eyebrow at her. "What do we say?"
"Huh?"
"When someone does something nice, what do we say?"
"Oh!" She throws herself against Zayne's chest, hugging him tightly. "Thank you!"
Sylus chuckles softly. "Very good, sweetie." He reaches over again to ruffle her hair. Zayne tilts his hair back to shoot him a very unamused look. He sees that tired grin grow a bit wider. "There's some new outfits for your dolls on your bed. Why don't you run along and play with them for a bit?"
She pouts, cheeks puffed and lip poking out. "I wanna stay out here and play!" she whines.
Sylus leans over the back of the couch lazily, wrapping an arm across Zayne's chest as the other props his head up by the elbow. "You've had all day to play with Papa, sweetie. Can't I have five minutes with him, too?"
Zayne pinched her side lightly. She squirms with the ticklish feeling, breaking her pout almost immediately, though she tries really hard to reinstate it with little success. "We can do whatever you want when baba goes back to bed, dear."
"Promise?" She sticks out her little hand, pinky held out expectantly.
"I promise." He wraps his pinky around hers. They pull it apart, sealing the deal, but she holds it out to Sylus next.
"You, too!"
He chuckles fondly, but does the same. "I promise, sweetie. Now go play."
She squints her eyes at them suspiciously for a moment, before finally sliding off Zayne's lap. She runs around the couch to hug Sylus's leg. "I'm sorry for waking you up," she says.
He reaches down to rub her back. "It's okay, I forgive you."
They both watch as she then runs over to the stairs and scampers up them on all fours. Zayne's attention is brought back by a hand on his chin, guiding him to look up at his partner. He can't get a word in before lips are over his, kissing him languidly, taking their time tasting him.
It's not rare for them to have moments alone, but it's certainly not as common as they'd like. They always knew it would be this way with their sleep schedules alone, but a child on top of it all certainly threw an extra wrench into the mix. Now on top of sleep schedules and jobs, there's making breakfast and packing lunches, drop-off and pick-up to and from school, play dates, shopping, and so on and so forth.
Sylus pulls away reluctantly with a quiet hum, satisfied. "You taste like her yogurt," he murmurs.
"She insisted on sharing," Zayne defends. "How do you know what her yogurt tastes like, hm?"
"Shh." Another kiss, full of grins. Zayne reaches up to tangle his fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. Sylus groans softly in delight. His thumb rubs softly at his chin. Fingers brush lovingly along his jaw, down his neck, gracing the bulge of his Adam's apple.
Zayne tugs lightly on his hair to break the kiss. "You didn't just get up to kiss me," he accuses.
Sylus wastes no time dropping his head down into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in deeply the scent of jasmine and sugar. His arms both slip down to hug his husband, no matter how awkward the position may be. "I could have."
"Then you've had your fill," he plays along. "Go back to bed and I'll kiss you when it's time to get up."
He sighs with faux drama. "I have such a cruel lover."
"Be careful, or I may not kiss you at all."
He squeezes him with a chuckle. "You went into the wrong career, beloved," he teases. He presses light kisses along his throat. Chaste, and as though only there to ground him into what he wants to say. "I wanted to... plant an idea in your head."
Zayne feels the subtle shift in the air. He combs through Sylus's hair, scratching at his scalp and providing a quiet reassurance with one hand, as the other comes to intertwine with his lover's. He hum, encouraging him to continue.
Upstairs, they can hear their daughter talking to herself, acting out wild scenarios or gushing about the new clothes. Sylus has bought her nearly every accessory and outfit available. Anything she could ever wish for, he'd get it for her. That has always been the case. But, as they listen to her play, there is a certain hollowness to it, a gap where there should be something.
Sylus thumbs at the band on Zayne's finger. "She could use a friend," he whispers.
Zayne tilts his head to rest it lightly over his husband's. "By 'friend', I assume you don't mean someone from school."
"Well?" A pause. "What do you think?"