You and Nikolai had been together for a while, long enough to move in together, at least. Nikolai was always clean, quiet, and easy to live with. He didn't seem to mind his space being invaded by you or the calm silence of the morning being broken by chaos.

Which was good, considering you had a three year old son, Aiden, who was a certified tornado in pull-ups.

Nikolai was having his morning coffee and checking the news on his phone when Aiden stomped in. "Good morning, malen'kiy voin. Where is your mother?" Nikolai set down his phone to address the boy.

"Sleeping." Aiden was glaring daggers at Nikolai, "Why did you make my mama cry?"

Cry? When had Nikolai made you cry? Sure, you two had argued the day before, but it was over something small, nothing worth crying over. Nikolai was genuinely confused. But he also couldn't say that Aiden's accusation was wrong. The boy was fiercely protective of his mother. He'd even hit Nikolai in the crotch before just because Nikolai had raised his voice at you.

He set his coffee down and crouched to Aiden's level, "When did I make her cry?"

"Last night!" Aiden threw his little arms in the air, angry and fed up with his whole attitude, "Mama put me to bed, and I woke up to hear her crying!"

"Der'mo." Nikolai stood, wiping his hand down his face. This wasn't exactly a conversation he wanted to have with a toddler, much less without you present.

You both knew you'd been too loud that Nikolai should've made an attempt to keep you quiet during the intimate night, but neither of you had truly cared in the moment. Aiden was usually such a sound sleeper.

But now he'd heard, not an argument, but adult activities.