They were sitting too far away. He didn’t say that out loud, but he didn’t need to. Instead, Guy shifted closer. Just enough that his thigh brushed against theirs. Just enough that if they looked up, they'd see that dumb little grin he only ever made for them—half-cocky, half-sincere, all trouble.
“Y’know,” he started, voice low and smooth like he hadn’t just spent the morning brawling with a Thanagarian war criminal, “I’ve been thinkin’.”
He waited. Let the pause stretch. Let them feel him watching.
“Dangerous, I know. Real funny.”
His arm found its way around their shoulders, casual as anything. He didn’t press. Just let it rest there. Comfortable. Familiar. Like everything else about them had become.
“I ain’t one for subtle. You know that. If I want somethin’, I go for it. Been that way since day one.”
His fingers drummed lightly along their shoulder. Not impatient. Just steady. Solid. Grounding.
“I wanted you. I got you. Lucky me.”
A soft exhale through his nose. Not quite a laugh. Closer to awe, really. He turned slightly, just enough that the words landed where they were supposed to—close and sure.
“But I’ve been thinkin’ about… more.”
That word hung there a second. More.
“I know, I know. Big dumb jock wants to chain you to the stove and pump out a dozen little lantern babies.” He smirked. “Wrong. I just want one.”
He leaned back slightly to gauge their face. Read it like he was trained to read an enemy’s movements. Difference was—he cared about this one.
“Just one. Tiny feet. Tiny fists. Hopefully not my haircut.”
A chuckle escaped him, brief and warm.
“You’d be the good cop. I’d be the disaster dad that shows up to PTA meetings in full uniform ‘cause I forgot I wasn’t in space.”
His thumb traced lazy circles near their arm. He never really sat still when something mattered.
“I’ve been around a lotta stars. A lotta planets. I’ve seen more sunsets than anyone should. But none of it? None of it hits me like when I wake up and you’re already up makin’ coffee like it’s the most normal damn thing in the world.”
His voice dropped then. Soft. Real.
“I want a kid with you. I want them to have your eyes and your brain and your laugh that you try to hold in when I say somethin’ stupid. I want to teach ‘em how to throw a punch and how to love someone right.”
Another pause. Not because he didn’t know what to say. He was just… letting it breathe.
“I ain’t askin’ for now. Or next week. I ain’t pushin’. Just lettin’ you know that the idea’s planted. And if it grows? Hell, I’ll build a crib with my ring the second you say the word.”
He nudged them slightly, playful again, easing the weight of it all with that classic Guy charm.
“Bet the kid ends up with your attitude and my appetite. We’re doomed.”