AN: Well, hello everyone! I hope everyone and their families are safe during these times. I am so pleased to have written another epilogue chapter for you all to enjoy and hopefully take up some time while you are at home. I will continue to write a few more, when they will be uploaded is always an uncertainty, unfortunately. I of course, have read your reviews and suggestions of a wedding chapter and baby metal chapter. Which they will be written but, since I'm writing in no chronological order, will be mostly experienced through flashbacks.
Also, for all you GaaShoo fans, don't forget to check out my new fanfiction on my profile called 'Tea Time, Kazekage-sama!'. Only two chapters are available, but if you have some time, please show it some love. Your reviews and critiques really help push me to write, as they did for New Girl.
With that, it is once again amazing to be posting another chapter, so I hope you all like this one.
Please enjoy!
Epilogue 2: Welcome Home
The early morning hues light the kitchen area in a warm glow. Topping off the last bowl of steamed rice, I place it on the table along with the rest of my home cooked breakfast for two. My ears perk when I hear a bedroom door open and close. I clasp my hands together gingerly once my sole company this morning appears.
"Good morning, Mama." My son walks into the kitchen with a simple smile.
I can't help but admire my pride and joy. No matter how many times I see him, this feeling never ceases to leave me. Granted, his striking resemblance to his father doesn't help keep the corners of my mouth from lifting.
"Good morning, sweetheart," I practically sing the words from my mouth. Scurrying over to him, I bring him close and rub my cheek against the softness of his silky onyx hair. It seemed just the other day he was no taller than my knee. Now, he's mere inches from surpassing me. The reality of it springs a bittersweet taste to my mouth, "I made breakfast, would you like to share it with me this morning?"
"M-Mama," Metal gulps, peeling away from my loving hold and fixing his hair. He adjusts his school satchel and brings a stopping gesture with his hand. "You know I don't eat breakfast till after training. And I have to train before school starts, I can't just stop even when Papa is out on a mission."
My hues waver a moment, admiring the persistence of my only son. Naturally, his father has instilled strict regimes. Even while absent they persist. It grasps at my heartstrings; sometimes, I can't help but worry about the quality of life that will transpire. Although, I've come to understand the way life is viewed from a shinobi's perspective, and the values that are held above all else. Still, I wish that one day my son will consider having breakfast with me, or at least have a moment of hesitation before walking out the front door.
Maybe I'm being a bit selfish as a mother.
"Yes, of course. Silly how it slips my mind sometimes," I smile shyly at my poor attempt, sauntering over to the prepared food and beginning to pack it for him to go, like always. Wrapping his breakfast with a finishing knock, I extend the bento for him to take. "Please take breaks if you need it. I don't want you to over do it, even if your father expects you to."
"Mama, I think you worry too much sometimes," Metal responds frankly, accepting my prepared bento. "I may not be as strong as Papa right now, but I will be."
"I know that, but…" I wring my wrists together, unable to stop the bombarding thoughts of dangerous situations that my son partakes in, and the many more that will inevitably come. I shake my head lightly, riding the pesky ideas running amok. I lift my maternal hand to brush at his bangs. "Oh, what am I saying. I have the two strongest boys in the world. Go out there and train your heart out, and when you're tired or hungry, I'll be right here waiting."
Metal blushes at the compliment and grins with a definite nod, "I'll be off now," he motions himself to the door, and with one final adjustment of his school bag he salutes me goodbye, "Have a good day, Mama!"
"You too, sweetheart," I give a small wave until the door closes behind him. Quietly, I walk over to the front door, opening just a crack to view my son picking his pace into a jog and vanishing against the horizon of neighborhood houses. "Come back soon."
Stepping outside onto the front porch, I'm graced by the dense morning dew clinging to my ankles. Folding my arms against my chest, I stare at the sky transitioning from an expanse of stars and moons to the blue drape connecting everyone underneath it. I take a breath from my parted lips, musing to myself, "You too, Lee. Please come back safely."
After indulging in my make believe conversation with my husband, I saunter back into the house and take a seat at the kitchen table. Inside this now silent house, I bring my coffee to my lips and begin to have breakfast at an empty table.
"Hello, Mrs. Lee. How was Shiso today?"
I smile warmly at the mother happily accepting her middle school child at my front porch. The mother and daughter stare at me with expectancy, waiting for my response on her educational state of affairs. I nod my head confidently, easing the tension of the parent in front of me.
"Shiso is doing very well in her studies. I have no doubt in my mind that she will be accepted in the private highschool of her choice, Ms. Kanbe," I continue further when the daughter breathes a sigh of relief. "Your daughter needs very little tutoring. At this rate, she will be fully prepared to take that entrance exam."
"Oh, thank you so much for your guidance, Mrs. Lee." The mother bows her head respectfully, proud tears seeming to grace the edges of her eyelids as she holds onto her daughter's shoulder. "It's all we ever wanted to hear, honestly."
"Thank you, Ms. Lee," Shiso smiles graciously, clutching her textbook closer to her chest.
"Oh, please. You always had the knowledge," my cheeks turn a bit pinker than normal at the display in front of me. "I'm only here as a guide, and to make you realize your potential."
My company nods their head graciously before bowing respectfully one last time and making their leave. Before I'm able to close the front door, I hear the pair of multiple footsteps rushing around the corner. My sight is bombarded with a herd of ninja academy boys skidding across the grass of our front yard, along with my son seeming out of breath trying to catch up to them. The display certainly has me bewildered. Once they reach the porch steps, the youth with whiskers stamped across his cheeks is first to speak.
"See! I told you guys, she does exist," he points a jutting finger at me to the two friends at either side. "You guys owe me, so pay up."
"Man, you're such a pain," the adolescent with hair pulled into a spiky ponytail clicks his tongue, before rummaging through his pocket with the energy of a senior citizen. With the purse of his lips, he drops the coinage into the whiskered child's open palm.
"Hm," the other fair child with platinum hair feigns mock surprise, as he pulls his pockets only to reveal nothing inside but ink stains and lint. "Looks like I used mine for lunch today. Oh, well. Next time, I guess."
"Liar," the other two boys respond in unison with narrowed eyes at the facade. The chastised youth merely shrugs his shoulders at their disapproval, not bothered by the notion at all.
"Y-You guys," my son finally enters the picture, doubling over with a mix of breathlessness and fluster. "You really made a bet against each other on whether my mother was real or not!?"
"Duh," the whiskered boy responds plainly, folding his arms casually behind his head. "We've never seen her. That and wondered what she looked like since you're dad's…uh, well...you know..."
"Weird looking," the unfiltered comment comes forth from the other fair skinned child.
"Too honest!" The other boys reel in horror at their friends uncontrollable mouth, and nudge him accordingly.
I can't help but giggle at their antics, bringing their attention back to me.
"Ah, I see, you must all be…." I tap a finger against my lips, observing their features and personality quirks. My son talks about his school friends to me on occasion, and being somewhat acquainted with their parents, I list off their names as I smile welcoming down at them. "Boruto, Shikadai, and Inojin. Is that right?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Boruto is the first to speak again, rubbing the back of his neck with slight shame over his friend's previous comment. "It's nice to meet you, Metal's Mom; I mean, Mrs. Lee."
The other two address me with the same introduction, bowing their heads slightly, and I return with one of my own.
"Sorry, Mama," Metal comes forth to my side, with a hint of guilt twinkling in his eyes. "My friend's wanted to come over to study for our next written ninja exam. That is, if it's okay for me to have company over."
"Of course," I beam with glee, opening the front door fully and motioning everyone to come inside. "Please, help yourselves at the coffee table. I'll be sure to make snacks for everyone to enjoy while you study too."
All the boys cheer in unison, and don't hesitate to rush past me and kick off their ninja sandlas. Once they plop their school bags on the floor near the table, they converse with much clamor as they begin their set up. I give my son and his friends their needed space as I tend to my duties as snack prepper. I do my best to make a decent spread of healthy choices of fruits and vegetables. Scanning the fridge, I decide to make the chicken dumplings I was saving to be made for dinner tonight. Rolling, stuffing, pinching and boiling; everything is ready in about thirty minutes time. Preparing a serving tray, I shuffle out in my house slippers and place the tray in the middle of the expanse of pencils, journals, and textbooks.
"Sorry to have you boys wait so long, but I hope you like it."
With excitement in their eyes and unanimous 'thank you'', they make no hesitation to start with the chicken dumplings. Chewing with gusto, their throats rumble with content. A charmed smile plays across my cheeks, and I'm quick to remind them to at least chew their food thoroughly before swallowing.
"These dumplings are the best, !" Boruto exclaims with a mouthful. Turning towards my son, he smacks the textbook he's reading in front of him. "Oi, Metal. Your moms super nice and makes awesome snacks. Thought you could hide her from us, huh?" With a playful grin, he goes on to say; "Kind of selfish, to be honest."
"I wasn't trying to hide her," Metal responds defensively, and I merely chuckle when he looks frantically around the table at his schoolmates making mock gestures at him.
"Must be nice to have a non-ninja mom," Inojin comments openly after swallowing his own dumpling. Although, instead of a textbook being in front of him, he busies himself with a sketch pad and colorful ink pens. "Our moms are scary."
"You're telling me," Shikdai nods at the aforementioned, rubbing his cheek as if recalling an unpleasant time he was reprimanded. With a palpable sigh, he goes on to say, "My mom's snacks are whatever; not bad but sometimes I'm not in the mood. She still expects me to eat though, which can be a drag."
Like a student in class, Boruto raises his hand for my attention, "Question, . Just curious, but what made you fall in love with Metal's dad?"
"Mm, that is…" I place a hand against my warmed cheek at the forthright inquiry. I can't control the images and fond memories washing over me like a typhoon. Pleasant as they are, my body reacts by swaying a bit back and forth. "Where to even begin!"
All the boys unanimously lean closer at my reaction, peaked to know the 'secret', as if my husband had some magical scroll technique to have captured my interest. That, or perhaps his display of expertise in Tai-jutsu as a shinobi man must have garnered my respect and love. Since they're young, their perception of attraction stems mainly from outward appearances. However, they don't believe this to be true in my case, and their next best assumption is his skill set. When they're all a bit older, they will realize, there are many underlying facets to being attracted to someone. It's all encompassing; their whole being is consuming. It may sound a bit dramatic, but being in love with a person is like slowly drowning.
When it came to falling in love with Lee, I could only tread water for so long.
My bashful reaction stirs a queasiness from my own son. After making an unpleasant noise from his mouth, he shoots up from his seat on the floor. Stiff as a plank, he announces with a stutter that seems to happen often, "I-I'm going to the restroom!" Like a wound up wooden toy, he tensely makes his way out of the living area.
Coming back to my attentive listeners, I commit to playing a harmless joke. With actress levels of imaginary poise, I descend weakly onto the couch behind me. Bringing the back of my palm against my forehead and cocking my head back, I turn an embarrassed cheek away.
"Oh, boys. How could I ever deny such a man with gorgeously thick eyebrows." I shake my head, as if not understanding the reasoning myself. Gradually, I see their mouths drop from my made up confession. "They just drew me in, I couldn't keep my eyes off. Never before had I seen such a display of deep manliness. Once I saw him I thought to myself…" the boys are practically falling over with steam rising from their ears. I go on to say, "I would do anything for a man like that."
After a long pause of silence, gapping mouths, and blank stares, the boys all at once clear their throats and gather their composure. Hastily, Inojin grabs a black marker from his backpack pocket, and scribbles dense lines across his own eyebrows; his own now messy and much 'fuller'.
"Would you look at that," he speaks with a smugness in his delivery. "I also have large eyebrows."
Boruto fumbles on his words, grabbing the edge of the coffee table in frustration, "C'mon, that's cheating!"
"Hmph, such a pain," Shikadai comments, as if about to dismiss their silly banter. However, that notion quickly dissipates as he lifts his hands and performs a jutsu. It summons two obscure shadow arms which reach above his eyes, appearing as makeshift eyebrows. Shikadai closes his eyes, relishing in his superior eyebrow technique. With an evident leer creeping into his cheeks, he finishes with; "Looks like I win. How typical."
The cheeky attitude of his companions rouses Boruto to jump to his feet, "You think you guys have me beat? Well, guess what—" with a flip and switch of a few fingers, a puff of smoke erupts at either of his side. My eyes flutter wildly, as two identical clones appear. Each raises two fingers in the air, and places them over the right and left eyebrow respectively. Boruto crosses his arms, laughing at his own geniusness, "I could have my clones use three fingers, but I don't wanna embarrass you guys in front of Mrs. Lee."
"That looks nothing like eyebrows, Boruto." Inojin exclaims promptly, bringing forth his artistic criticism.
"Yeah, that's a pretty bad attempt," Shikadai agrees, waving a dismissive hand to his presence.
"What!?" Boruto practically yells at the absurdity of his efforts being ridiculed so harshly. "You guys have no freakin' clue of what good eyebrows look like!"
I cover my mouth, trying as much as I can not to erupt in bursts of laughter. Like a comedic stand up, I continue watching the trio continue to banter of who has the most 'superior' eyebrows to win this made-up contest. I'm giggling so much, I don't notice my son making his way back into the living room. A shocked expression smites him, witnessing his friends looking rather ridiculous. Metal releases an exhausted sigh, sitting himself beside me and also taking in the scenic bantering.
Burying his face inside of his palms, he shakes his head as if trying to rid himself of the moment, "Mama, what did you say to them?" He questions me, "I just wanted to study."
A tinge of guilt pinches my heart, knowing how serious my son can take certain things he's passionate about. I place a comforting hand upon his back, and rub it soothingly, "Oh, we're just having a little fun, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I'll leave you all to study now."
My interest breaks away from the commotion as I faintly hear the front door make a certain jingle. It's that familiar sound that makes my heart ache and squeeze without my consent. With the expected guest about to enter, I rise from the couch, watching with baited breath and violet hues glossing with dripping sentiment. The door opens, and enters my husband from his latest travels. I'm graced to see his overwhelming physique, cut cheekbones, and receptive oval eyes once more. His experienced gaze, chiseled from years of rigorous missions and fatherly duties, swoops around the living before falling onto our son and I.
A radiant grin crosses him, exposing the mature lines of his handsome face, "I am home my beautiful family!" He announces with a booming presence, "And I see we have guests this evening. Definitely appreciating the energy in this house."
On cue, Metal and I rush to his side. Practically jumping into his muscular arms, he pulls us both into his paternal embrace. We laugh and practically cry in delight when he lifts us off the floor with ease, deepening his hold.
"Welcome home, Papa." Metal says lovingly, uncaring to show devotion to his father in front of his friends.
"Welcome home, honey." I say with the same intimacy.
"Thank you, it is good to be home," Lee takes a deep breath of content, indulging in our familial comfort. "There is nothing I have missed more than the both of you."
The sentimental words almost spring forth a tear from my eyes. However, I know if I start crying then sure enough, no—there's no question about it, my boys will cry as well. Never fails in this family. Once we all separate, I place a hand upon our son's shoulder. "Metal, why don't you see if you can gather your friends and focus them on getting that studying done, hm?"
"Will do," Metal nods, excusing himself and rejoining his schoolmates at the coffee table.
For a brief moment, Lee and I allow ourselves to soak up the image of a full house. The feeling of togetherness has a similar effect of being cushioned between a dozen feathered pillows. The hard work we have put in as parents has led to a bountiful fruition. It's an amazing sensation, one that I believe not only Lee and I feel, but the other families as well. All of our beautiful children resemble floral buds that will one day bloom, then be carried away by a gentle spring breeze. After that, who knows, another wild meadow will grow.
So on and so forth.
"He resembles you more and more each day," I speak affectionately, scooting closer to my husband and resting my head against his arm. Tilting my chin up, I roll my violet eyes upward, catching his circles addressing mine, "don't you think so?"
"You are certainly right about that," he agrees fully, lifting his arm and wrapping it around my form, bringing me closer to his side. I exhale in satisfaction, feeling the discipline of his body against my own. "In fact, I believe he will be much more than myself one day."
"Hm?" I tilt my head to the side. "What do you mean by that?"
"He does not realize it yet, but…" Lee pauses, a shine of pride twinkling in his black saucers."He has already surpassed me when I was his age. I have no doubt he will be stronger than me in the near future."
"Is that so," I hum sweetly. "Then I have nothing to worry about."
"I would say the only person who should worry is his opponent," Lee chuckles loudly to himself, playfully squeezing my shoulder as I join him.
"Listen, Metal. As a friend, I hate to be the one to tell you this but," Lee and I overhear Borotu's voice rise amongst the boys' conversation. "I think your Dad is lying to you, he actually knows Genjustsu and is mind controlling your mom." Boruto sends an intent gaze across the table to the rest of his company, all noding together in a silent pack of agreement. "We're gonna break the Genjustu and free her; hands in."
"W-What are you even saying?" My son tugs at his tuffs of black hair in apprehension. "Can we just please get back to studying?"
Oh, Metal. I muse to myself, placing my fingers against my mouth to keep from giggling out loud. You tried your best and that's all I could ask of you.
"Oh boy, what is happening here," my husband blinks at the group in utter confusion. His round spectacles peek down at me, hoping for an explanation or two. I inherently flush and look away, knowing well I'm the culprit of this current dilemma. Oh gosh. Please forgive Mama, just this once.
Ignoring my son's cries for some compliance, Inojin and Shikadai place their hands in the pack ring with Boruto. A count-down of three is made and they lift their arms high in the air and chant unanimously; "Quest Accepted: Save Metal's Mom From Metal's Dad!"
The group spring to their feet, taking very appropriate superhero stances. With Inojin gathering his summoning scroll, Boruto rallying up his two clones, and Shikadai wiggling his shadow limbs menacingly, it's only a matter of time before an attack will be launched. With their collective gaze piercing Lee like thorns, my husband realizes their target is currently himself. Once it dawns, a sweat drop collects at his temple.
"Listen, boys," he begins with a scratch of his cheek, trying to subdue their unfaltering regard for him.
"Don't stare at his eyebrows," Shikadai interrupts my husband before any peace treaty can be discussed. "If Boruto is right, it's most likely the source of his power."
Both Inojin and Boruto shudder at the clever observation, now keeping attention on their line of sight.
Once it appears my husband's attempt for friendly conversation is disregarded by their stubborn unwillingness, Lee releases a palpable sigh of frustration; "And here I was hoping to come home to relax with my wife and son…"
I make a small noise in the back of my throat when my husband unravels me from his hold, gently nudging me to stand with Metal on the side lines. With a new found acceptance to their challenge, Lee furrows his dense brows in resolve; a competitive grin itching at his cheeks.
"If you are going to challenge me inside my own home, then you better give me all you have," Lee laces one arm behind his back, shifting into a bracing stance and raising a bandaged hand in front of him. With a back and forth motion of his fingers, he antagonizes them to come forward; "Now, let me end this quickly for you boys. I would like to enjoy a wonderfully prepared dinner and warm bath by my lovely wife."
"You're gonna free Mrs. Lee, once and for all villain!" Bortuo declares with a fist raised in front of him, about to give the cue for the impending battle.
Honestly, I'm impressed by the level of theatrical commitment on everyone's part, since my husband seems to even be adding a few 'villainous' cackles. For someone whom at first seemed reluctant to humour them, Lee is participating more so than he originally intended.
My violet hues dart across the home, noting the pristine condition that I keep it in on the daily. All of my organizing, cleaning, and general upkeep will be destroyed in a matter of seconds if this actually transpires. Since this whole ordeal is the result of my careless humour, I decide I need to take matters into my own hands. Quickly, I place my body between the trio and my husband. They all choke on their saliva at my unexpected entrance. Alright, it's time for the final act in this play. All the romantic dramas I've read and watched have led me to this very moment.
"I-I'm sorry, boys.." I cutely cup my pink stained cheeks, with sparkling fake tears tempting the corners of my violet eyes. "My snacks we're not actually very good, were they? Since you didn't finish all the dumplings I prepared, and they're getting cold...so…"
They all gasp in regret, flinging their guilt ridden eyes from the coffee table back to my damsel ridden form.
"No, ! They were great, honest," Boruto waves his hands in front of him.
"Yeah," Inojin agrees by bobbing his head up and down. "We were just—"
"Studying," Shikadai states promptly, drawing his shadows away. Stuffing his hands lazily into his pockets, he drags himself back to the coffee table and drops to a cross legged position. Shikadai follows suit by opening his textbook and resting his cheek against his open palm. In a bored fashion, his eyes trail the black text. Pinching a dumpling with his free hand, he teases his colleagues by slowly bringing it to his mouth; "Better hurry before I eat them all. I don't care for sharing."
Boruto and Inojin heighten in horror at the thought of missing out on any more of my snacks. Almost bumping into each other, they rush to the coffee table. The two go on to mimic Shikadai by opening their own books and snatch up a dumpling or two.
From the corner of my eyes, I see Metal release a pent up sigh of relief, happy to see he can continue his studies in relative peace. I garner my son with an apologetic smile. Metal is receptive to it, and dismisses my apology with a well defined grin of his own, one akin to his fathers. Without wasting any more time, Metal goes on to settle next to his friends, and they begin to discuss the content of their material.
All's well that ends well.
"As expected of my wife," Lee approaches and bares an amused leer at me. "Hm, I am beginning to think you may be a shinobi spy with that level of tact and persuasion," with minfull eyes on the group of boys, he bends to whisper huskily in my ear, "should I be more careful?"
Ferver-like qualities reach into the pores of my skin, and my embarrassed hands wring the fabric of my apron against my thighs. With a timid whisper, I reply with dripping insinuation; "I think...you should come with me and carefully investigate our closet."
"Our closet?" Lee pinches his mouth to the side. Like a leaf in the wind, my coy efforts go right over his head. Filling in the blanks himself, his emotions snap into one of concern,"Do not tell me there are rodents inside our closet," getting carried away with his assumptions, he clenches his fists in self inflicted passion. "To think I was gone for so long that vermin thought they could take my place, stealing my wife's beauty sleep. I will not have it."
I grip his forearm before he can advance towards our bedroom like a storm.
"Jeez, you are so..." I blush a deeper shade of pink. I realize that sometimes I have to be straightforward with my husband. Reading a woman's subtlety has never been his forte. Standing on the tips of my toes, I bring his ear closer to my lips so that our company does not catch a single word. I begin to translate my previous statement, describing my future plans of doing ' this and that ' with ' mine and his ' in our walk in closet.
When I release him, his face appears hot to the touch. To allow the excess heat to escape, he tugs at his orange neck warmer.
"Well, I certainly would enjoy that," Lee comments with cheeks bruising with color. He rubs anxiously at the back of his neck, taking weary glances at the youths underneath our roof. He begins to shake his head lightly, "I do not think we should."
I reject his disapproval by grabbing his thick wrist and urging his body to follow mine. Closing our bedroom door, he sucks in an air of surprise when I grab a portion of spandex from his chest and push his towering frame against the wall. Staring up at him, I apply pressure to his chest and pin him further. I'm trying to drive a point for reconsideration on his part. Although, comedically, I'm sure it's difficult to imagine a petite civilian woman holding a seasoned shinobi man forcibly against his will.
Although my husband is well aware of how easily he can escape, his body humors my dominant gestures.
"Looks like my little sweet pea does not like it when I say 'No' to her," he speaks with intrigue. "However, I am a man of morals and my word. So, she will have to behave untilI I say the time is right."
"H-Huh," I stammer, unable to tame the bubbling sensuality building in the pit of my stomach. I puff my cheeks out, not bothering to hide my evident pouting, "I promise I'll be quiet this time."
Lee chuckles at my childish attempts at a compromise. Carefully, he takes my wrists into his capable hands. In an inconceivable instant, the tables turn. I squeak when I feel my own back meet the cold and hard surface of the wall. A peculiar shiver runs down the spine of my back as my wrists are held hostage above my head. The surmounting fixation I'm receiving from my husband stirs a fire inside my chest, changing my complexion entirely.
"You should understand my reasoning. I will phrase it as a simple question," his voice has drawn deeper, claiming possession over me. I'm commanded to lift my chin higher, taking in his features looming just a breath away. A new found pressure is applied to my beating wrists, "What makes my little sweet pea think I want her quiet in the first place?"
The nerves that make up my anatomy spark, signaling my legs to rub against one another. Witnessing my body speaking for me, Lee devilishly remarks, "Since you would like to set the rules, lets see if you can follow them."
All of the words of rebuttal I would like to express slip from my tongue. Instead, I'm sucking and biting my bottom lip. One hand keeps my wrists locked and suspended while the other takes permission to freely roam. My heart leaps to my throat as my apron and maxi skirt is hiked to sit at my hip bones. W-Why is he like this sometimes, I whimper accidentally. My mewls draw a look of gratification from my husband.
"Although I prefer fair matches against my opponents; when it comes to my wife," Lee drags his words roughly, baring his teeth against the nape of my neck. My eyes clench shut out of reflex, trying to take control over my insides. I feel him smirk against me, "I take no issue having the upper hand."
On cue to his statement, his calloused hand grips the flesh of my inner thigh. Rubbing and squeezing, traveling upwards; he dares to press his fingers against the thin cotton material of my underwear. I involuntarily dip my chin, feeling my parts swelling without my consent. At this point, I'm afraid of drawing blood from my own lips.
Lee can't suppress the erotic display lashing at his own body and mental psychy, manifesting in the labor of constructing his sentence, "Oh, Sho. Why do you have to pick fights with me that you cannot possibly win?"
He sounds almost sorry for me.
The expert hand between my damp legs tremble in yearning. With an audible swallow of his saliva, he reigns in his uncontested hand and deliberately takes the material at my hips to redrape my exposed legs. My violet eyes crack open, witnessing my husband retract his canines and withdraw his encroaching body away from mine. My wrists are released and ragdoll to my sides, yet I continue to need the support of the wall to keep me on my trembling legs. My head feels weighted and dizzy with all the hormones continuing to circulate inside my veins. I barely recognize that my husband places his hands on his knees, coming to match my level of sight.
With a docile roundness to his eyes and doting smile, he inches his face closer, planting a weightless kiss on my pink lips. It's brief and chaste, draining the current that had swept me away.
"I think my little sweet pea needs a bit more training," his voice is now powdered with affection. I can taste the savory confection on the tip of my tongue as his fingers push a strand of brown hair behind my ear, "Perhaps when she is more prepared, she can come find me."
I can't form coherent words, yet again. Seems to be a common side effect of my husband. Darn him.
Straightening himself up, he helps me find the strength needed to stand on my own two feet. Gulping whatever shyness is left, I hold onto my hands for support and finally speak, "I missed you so much. When I didn't hear from you, I started to think…"
"I know," Lee gently takes my arm, motionining my small frame to settle inside his comforting hold. His trained fingers brush against my chocolate locks, trailing down to the tips of my strands, "I am sorry for not writing to you. I was kept rather busy this time around, but it was more from my lack of time management." With a conflicted sigh, he gives me an apologetic squeeze, "I am sorry, Sho."
"Don't trouble yourself over it," I exhale, sinking more into his arms. "You're home now, and that's all that matters. Just please write to me next time."
"Of course," Lee kisses the top of my head. Parting away, he guides me to our bedroom door. "Give me a moment to undress and settle in. I will be with you again soon."
"Hm, I can't watch you undress?" I ask innocently, hesitantly reaching for the door handle.
"You know I am a shy man," he sends me a sly wink.
I laugh and shake my head. Although I would currently love to shower my husband with love, his ritual of completing his mission statements before enjoying family life takes precedence. I respectfully excuse myself and close the door behind me. With a content breath, I walk past the living room, nodding in approval at my son and the rest of the boys concentrated on their work. Pattering into the kitchen, I slip on my cooking apron and fasten the knots at my neck and waist. With my wife mode meter reaching to capacity, I excitedly attend to making dinner for my family.
All the while, I can't help a pink tint caresse my skin, and smile uplift my cheeks. Even though sometimes I wake up alone, eat at the table with empty chairs, and do one load of laundry for myself…having both my favorite boys in the world return home and safe, is enough for me.
This feeling..I wouldn't trade it for the world.