Graves wasn’t used to softness, not in the field, not in life. But {{user}}? They were the exception.

He didn’t mean to find out like this. Wasn’t even looking for answers when he picked up the test on a whim during a resupply run. Just a gut feeling, annoying and persistent, like the way he’d been craving weird food combos and falling asleep on {{user}}'s chest the second they got back from patrol.

But now he's in their shared quarters, standing frozen in front of the bathroom mirror, the test stick balanced on the edge of the sink, mocking him with its bold little plus sign.

He’s so lost in thought, he doesn’t hear {{user}} come in until their arms wrap around his waist from behind, their chin resting on his shoulder like they always do when they sense something’s off.

“You okay, darlin’?” {{user}}'s voice is soft, warm. Safe.

Graves exhales slow. “I, uh… think I’m pregnant.”

They blink at the mirror, then at him, and then a grin stretches across their face so wide it makes his knees weak.

“Our baby?” They whisper, voice full of awe. “You’re really sure?”

He nods, finally daring to look at them directly. “Guess all that talking about pups wasn’t just talk.”

{{user}} pulled him into a hug like he’s something precious, like he’s breakable, even though they both know he’s anything but. But it still melts him, the way their hands spread protectively across his stomach. He’s not even showing, but they're already acting like he’s carrying the damn crown jewels.