Imagine your OTP bathing together. Person A is sitting behind Person B, gently washing their hair and sometimes leaning forward and placing a kiss on their shoulder.
Shepard closed her eyes, her hands resting on her heavily rounded stomach. Kaidan reached around her for her shampoo, pressing his chest into her back while taking care to not disturb her too much. When it wasn't far enough his hand glinted the smallest, brightest blue, and the bottle rose off the side of the tub and darted for his hand. She winced when someone jammed a tiny fist into an organ, and Kaidan gently kissed her neck as he resettled himself behind her.
"Your daughters," she started.
"Are perfect," he continued, running his hands through her damp hair. "Like their mother."
"I was going to say 'are delighting in tormenting me—'"
"Also, like their mother."
Shepard glanced back at him, but wasn't able to resist a small smile at his face. "Fair enough, I suppose."
Kaidan kissed her shoulder, one hand still massaging her shampoo into her hair as the other slipped around to rest on her belly, leaving a streak of suds behind it that were quickly washed off by the bathwater.
"You know," she continued. "Bed rest doesn't mean I can't wash my own hair."
He grinned at her, going back to working her hair into a sudsy mess. "But it does mean I can pamper you all I want and you can't fight me."
"I suppose," she replied with mock resignation. He chuckled, grabbing for their handheld shower-head.
"Hold still."