(Chapter is kinda suggestive.)
"Take it off."
Keegan squinted at you but did as he was told, he understood your reason for it.
"Thank you, I just don't want our kid growing up thinking their dad's face is that mask."
He tossed the mask onto the bed, leaning over and looking into the cradle, the small child shifting around in the blankets. You didn't have time to swaddle the baby, you had to get his next bottle ready before he started crying.
"Keegan, can you be such a wonderful father and check your child, and swaddle them too while you're at it."
"Sure honey, I'll do it"
.
.
.
"I thought you said you'd do it, this isn't even close to being swaddled. Move, please."
You put the bottle of warm milk into his hand, taking over the wrapping. The nurses had taught you how to swaddle your child when he was first born, a lesson that had saved your ears and sanity many times.
"What does it taste like...?"
The question caught you off guard, turning your head to look at Keegan.
"Excuse me?"
He held his hands up, looking away from you.
"Nothing, nothing!"
"No, I heard what you said. I hope to God you're not talking about my fucking breast milk."
He turned away fully, embarrassed by what he said now.
"Sorry."
.
.
.
You shifted to the further end of your side of the bed, still a bit uncomfortable by his statement made earlier that morning.
You really didn't know how to feel about what he said, it was so out of pocket but it also got you thinking too. In the weirdest way, you were curious too.
But there was no way in hell you were drinking your own bodily fluids.
"Can you stop avoiding me like I'm the plague?"
Keegan was facing you, staring at your back.
"I don't know?"
He rolled his eyes at your answer, sitting up and looking down at you.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It was just an honest question."
You shrugged it off, glad he apologized but he really didn't need to, before you could think anymore he pulled you closer to him, your body pulled into a hug.
You laughed a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek, your lips poked by his facial hair.
"You need to shave again, soon."
Keegan's hand went up to feel his face.
"What are you talking about, I think I'm still good for a out another week or so."
"Fine, I get poked again when trying to kiss you. No more for a whole month."
.
.
.
You scotched closer to him, he was spooning you so it wasn't much you had to move.
"One day. Maybe I'll let you."
"Huh?"
Keegan mumbled into your neck, his voice low and tired.
"I'll let you get just a little taste."
He hummed in response, most likely not even listening to what you were saying.
"But you'd have to work for it, and I'm not pumping it for you."
His hand came off your hip, moving to your mouth and pinching your lips shut, not hard, just enough to keep them together.
"Go to sleep, you need these few minutes the baby isn't crying."
(Weirdest shit comes to mind at these times)
