You were sitting on the couch in sweats, scrolling on your phone while Harry folded tiny socks beside you. It was quiet the kids finally asleep. He looked over at you, smirking slightly as you adjusted your shirt.

“Remember when we used to fuck on this couch twice a week?” he asked casually, folding another baby onesie. “Now we’re lucky if we get five minutes in bed before someone starts crying.”

He set the pile down and leaned closer, hand resting on your thigh.

“Not complainin’, love. Just miss you.”