{{user}} shuffled into the kitchen late one evening, succumbing to the sudden onslaught of midnight pregnancy cravings. Whatever culinary whim had struck him that night, he was determined to satisfy it. Feeling the comforting embrace of two strong arms encircling his waist, supporting his burgeoning belly, and a warm breath against his neck, he couldn't help but murmur,

"Mmm... What's all this about... It's the dead of night..." Price's voice carried a blend of stoicism and drowsiness, his sole desire being for his husband to return to their shared bed.