So, I'm terribly late, according to my clock. If I lived somewhere else, I'd be fine. Ok.

This one... is slightly more... sexy? Srsly. Nothing explicit, or smutty, but...

Well.

Disclaimer: The usual.

(Because every day is significant.)

August 17th: Freebie Day. Do what you want!

He didn't hear the alarm going off in the morning, but he felt her lips pressing a gentle kiss against his temple—that woke him up a little, but Yamato refused to open his eyes, or move for that matter. He was perfectly comfortable being sprawled across their bed, one hand under his pillow, burying his face in it, the other partially hanging off the bed.

He knew it was early still, mostly because he could hear his children moving about the house getting ready for school, but also because he felt like he'd barely slept for an hour. Which was actually an hour and a half, if he'd bothered to glance at the clock—he'd gone to bed at six, approximately.

Yamato spent the next several minutes, drifting in that space between dream and reality, listening to his children running around as they gathered their school supplies, bickering with each other, complaining about this and that to their mother. He must've drifted off at some point during that, because when he came back to it, he echo of their goodbyes was fading and Sora was trailing kisses across his shoulders.

A low moan rumbled deep within his chest, but didn't quite make it out. He turned on his back, eyes still closed and a pleased smirk tugging at his lips; Sora wasn't deterred, brushing her lips over his collarbone and up his neck until she could claim his mouth.

Amazing, how after thirty-three years together, Sora still managed to get his motor running with surprising ease.

It showed, in the way his hands moved without his consent trying to unveil that soft, bronzed skin that never failed to set his insides on fire. In the way she smiled against his lips at his insistence, his low groan as he tried to pull her closer, kiss her harder. But then Sora grabbed his hands and pinned them to the mattress, eliciting a low growl this time, and forcing him to crack one eye open.

She drew his lower lip between her teeth and tugged on it, pulling back enough to give him a smile that did little to hide her mischievousness. Oh, she just loved to tease him.

"Little minx…"

Leaning down to kiss his nose, she told him to go back to sleep, "I have to go to the office for a while, but I'll be back before lunch."

He grunted his response, and pecked her lips one more time before relaxing completely on the bed again. He was still exhausted and soon was drifting in and out of consciousness. The sound of running water was the last thing he heard before falling into a deep slumber.

.

Later that day Yamato followed into her study, presumably to wait for her to finish whatever she had to—he didn't wait for long.

He'd woken up a second time to the feeling of her fingers drawing random patterns on his chest. He'd been more rested, if a little tired, and had stretched for long seconds before sitting up and giving his wife a lazy smile.

Sora had kissed his cheek and then ushered him off to the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and shower because lunch would be ready soon. It wasn't long before they were both eating their food, and less still when Sora escaped into her study.

And here they were now.

She'd made a show of busying herself with her laptop, but Yamato could see the little glint in her eyes, the subtle way in which she shifted in her desk chair—enticing. He fell for it rather quickly, but it'd been long, long months since the last time he had some alone time with his wife. And if everything went according to plan, this recent trip to space would be the last to take this long.

Probably his last.

But, pushing all that aside, Yamato circled the desk until he was standing next to her; Sora ignored him, or pretended to. He wasn't fooled. Spinning her chair around, Yamato grabbed her wrist and pulled her up against his chest—he smirked.

"I should bend you over this desk and have my way with you," he said, his voice heavy with promises.

Her eyes darkened, lips parting slightly—she got the message.

"What's stopping you?"

With a decidedly smug smirk, Yamato spun them around and he let himself fall on her chair, forcing her onto his lap. His wife, he thought, had amazing legs—still. And clearly, she knew they drove him wild, if her choice of apparel said anything at all.

Splaying his fingers over the skin of her thighs, Yamato slid the pencil skirt up, up, up until it bunched around her hips. Catching a glimpse of her underwear didn't made it any easier; he hissed. Sora smiled as her hands wandered under his shirt, forcing a growl out of him.

"You did this on purpose," he whispered hotly, mouth pressed against her neck and it made him incredibly pleased to hear her moan in response.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said after a while.

Yamato was set on making her confess her ploy, but his wife had other ideas, clearly; her lips had his locked in a passionate kiss, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth without much ado. One of his hands rose to grab the back of her head, angling it to grant him better access, kiss her better. The other lost no time in sliding over the skin of her delightful derrière, his middle finger slipping under her flimsy underwear, its goal clear.

Sora broke the kiss, her back arching as a arousing moan escaped her bruised lips. With a gasp, her hands dove for his pants—

"WE'RE HOME!"

—and froze.

"Did you have to scream like that?"

Yamato blinked, several times, slightly confused because his head refused to believe they were interrupted. Sora sighed, smiling apologetically as she rose from his lap. She fixed her skirt, righting her blouse and trying to comb her hair—still, Yamato remained sitting, not believing his luck.

"Uncle Takeru said it was necessary. Dad has been gone for a long time, and Mom is going to take this week off work. It's obvious what going to happen."

Now that, made Yamato react.

"I'm going to kill my little brother," he growled, a frown marring his face.

Sora just shook her head, already walking towards the door; she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss. "Tell me if you need help disposing of the body."

As soon as the door opened, they heard their children at the beginnings of another bickering match.

"Oh my God, Aki! That's just—what the actual hell?"

Yamato smiled; it was good to be home.

End.

Well, so, there. :P

That concludes, this little collection!

Thanks for reading, of course, and thank to you all who took the time to review! I appreciate it!