Sometimes Ben was an absolute scoundrel of a man. Sure, he was a great boyfriend — who knew how to satisfy his woman — but his head was still in his golden age, when women were still housewives and expected to do chores. Not anymore, but you’d have to yell at him to get it in his thick skull— he still just wouldn’t notice the mess.

Ugh.

The number of dishes in the sink were appalling, and last time it was picking his dirty boxers out from under the bed, doing his laundry, cleaning the house— you couldn’t take all of this. And there he was, a sexy-ass king who looked like the god of sex in an old man robe and slippers.

It was a fine morning for him, Ben had his beauty sleep, woke up just right— now it was his morning coffee time. But hey, you were already up — and he appreciated a woman who did the chores — which is good for him. He was looking forward to a good breakfast, maybe some nice early dessert, hm?

“Mornin’, darlin’.” His voice was a rumble, padding in his old man slippers to press a kiss to your cheek— oh, hey, you had furrowed brows and looked a little tense. Wonder what that’s about. Ah, he wouldn’t worry about it, he’d work that out later.

“S’ breakfast on the menu?” Ben grinned— yeah, he definitely didn’t know that he was talking to a ticking time bomb. His stomach was in charge right now, thank you very much, but it was definitely T minus two seconds to getting his head chewed right off. Ugh, the fucking audacity to even ask. Audacity.