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“Wriothesley.”
The Duke of Meropide stirs immediately at the sound of his husband’s voice, at his touch, both of Neuvillette’s hands shaking Wriothesley’s shoulder. He rolls over to find Neuvillette sitting up in their bed, staring at Wriothesley intently, wide awake. His hands, having retreated from Wriothesley’s shoulder, now soothe over his very round belly. Wriothesley sits up immediately.
“Hey. Is something wrong with the baby?” Wriothesley asks, hands immediately going to Neuvillette’s belly. Gently soothing over the baby bump. Wriothesley can’t help his concern until he feels a gentle nudge against his palm, soothing his worry. He looks sympathetically up to Neuvillette. “Did she kick you in the ribs again?”
“She is always doing such things,” Neuvillette says with an exasperated but fond sigh. “But no, she did not wake me with her usual movements. I am awake because I am hungry, Love.”
Wriothesley immediately nods in understanding. He rubs over Neuvillette’s belly to soothe both their baby and his husband. “Let me guess,” He muses with a knowing smile, “The Three A.M. Special?”
“If you would be so kind, I know it’s late, and I do not wish to inconvenience you,” Neuvillette says, but his eyes are wide and pleading, slightly aglow in the dark. Wriothesley would move all of Fontaine piece by piece to the moon if his husband asked him to. “But I would greatly appreciate it if you made it for me, Wriothesley.”
Wriothesley just smiles helplessly and kisses Neuvillette’s forehead. “You know I will. C’mon,” He yawns and rolls up out of bed, pulling on his sleep pants. “Let's get you set up in the armchair, and I’ll get to making you your snack.”
Wriothesley moves around to Neuvillette’s side of the bed and helps Neuvillette to his feet. Together, they make their way downstairs. Their kitchen is through an arch past the living room, so Wriothesley gets Neuvillette set up in his favourite armchair. Making sure to pull the blanket where it’s draped over the back and tucking it around Neuvillette. Wriothesley even pulls the cushioned footrest closer and helps Neuvillette get his aching feet onto it.
He strokes Neuvillette’s cheek, smiling at his husband sweetly. “There. All cozy?”
“Very,” Neuvillette agrees, settling in to wait. “Thank you, Wriothesley. Are you sure you do not need me to help with the cooking?”
“I need you to stay put and take it easy,” Wriothesley chuckles. He rubs over Neuvillette’s prominent baby bump. “She’s going to come any day now, you know!”
Once more, Neuvillette’s attention falls to his belly. His hands are already moving to soothe over it. Over their little girl. “Yes. Any day now.”
Wriothesley smiles and kisses the top of Neuvillette’s head before he leaves him sitting in the dim light of their living room. Wriothesley has to blink a few times to adjust his eyes to the bright light of their kitchen as he flicks it on. Yawning as he pads over to the fridge to gather the ingredients for the Three A.M. Special, a dish Wriothesley has since perfected as Neuvillette continued to crave it over the course of his pregnancy.
Wriothesley is not entirely sure if this specially made drink is weird or tame by pregnancy craving standards. He highly doubts that other husbands are contending with the cravings of the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, though, and that’s peculiar enough of a situation to be in on its own. He has to laugh at himself as he gathers what he needs. Arms full, Wriothesley carries everything over to the counter.
In truth, Neuvillette’s often craved snack doesn’t really require much cooking. Still, Wriothesley makes himself a little toasted sandwich so he can sit and eat with Neuvillette to keep him company during these early mornings. He makes his sandwich up and gets it heating up in the pan before he pulls down a jar from the cupboard to make up Neuvillette’s Three A.M. Special.
First, into a mason jar goes one of Sigewinne’s premade health milkshakes, followed by a few ounces of Scheznayan spring water. Then a little dash of barbecue sauce. Then, finally, a half cup of pickle juice. Wriothesley gets out a fun twirly straw that the melusines brought for Neuvillette, and uses it to stir the awful concoction before Wriothesley garnishes the drink with a lemon slice and a mint leaf. Bringing a little more colour to the watery, purple-ish sludge.
Making sure to flip his sandwich in the pan during all of that so it can toast on the other side. Regardless, he’s done this so many times, Wriothesley has everything down to a tee, and both his sandwich and Neuvillette’s drink are finished. After plating up his sandwich, Wriothesley gathers both it and Neuvillette’s drink and heads to the living room to give it to his husband.
“Your Three A.M. Special, Monsieur,” Wriothesley says with a fond smile as his husband eagerly takes the jar from his hands.
Wriothesley can’t help but shake his head and kiss the top of Neuvillette’s before he sits himself down on the floor next to the footstool. Happy to stay close to his husband, even if it means sitting on the floor. Neuvillette has long stopped admonishing him for the crumbs on the carpet, having come to want and need Wriothesley close. Especially as the due date has drawn nearer and nearer.
Wriothesley lets his head rest on Neuvillette’s knee as he eats his toasted sandwich, sighing happily as Neuvillette moves a hand to gently scratch through Wriothesley’s hair. The Duke melts into the touch. They’re both quiet and tired, Neuvillette especially. Wriothesley isn’t surprised when he hears Neuvillette’s breathing slow, and his hand falls lax in his hair.
Quietly, Wriothesley sets his plate on the coffee table and stands, turning to Neuvillette. His husband, Iudex of Fontaine, has fallen asleep once more with a twirly straw stuck in the corner of his mouth. He’d finished his drink, at least. Wriothesley gently takes the jar from him and removes the straw from between Neuvillette’s lips. He frowns a little in his slumber, but doesn’t wake. The Duke can’t help but smile fondly and kiss the top of Neuvillette’s head.
Wriothesley quickly cleans up their dishes before he returns and swaddles Neuvillette in the blanket and picks him up carefully. Carrying his partner back upstairs to their bedroom, where Neuvillette will sleep much more comfortably. He stirs for all of half a second as Wriothesley sets him back into bed, mumbles a thanks, then returns to sleeping. Once more, Wriothesley smiles with fondness and goes to his side of the bed, slipping close to Neuvillette.
His own hand rubs over Neuvillette’s belly, over their daughter. Wriothesley sighs happily and follows his husband into sleep, to dream of their little girl.