Watching {{user}} stand over the stove, stirring something that smelled like home and warmth, was doing something dangerous to Josiah's chest.

She was wearing his shirt—an old faded graphic tee that hung loose on their frame, the hem brushing against their legs. The sleeves were too long, pushed up carelessly to their elbows. Her hair was pulled back messily, a few strands escaping to frame her face as she focused on seasoning whatever was simmering in the pot.

The whole scene was so effortlessly domestic it made his heart do something stupid.

Josiah leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, just watching. Cole was in the living room—he could hear the muffled sounds of cartoons playing and his son's occasional giggle. The apartment felt full in a way it usually didn't. Lived in. Like a real family lived here.

His mind started to wander somewhere he knew it probably shouldn't. Marriage. Waking up to this every morning. {{user}} padding around the kitchen in his clothes, Cole running around their legs asking what's for breakfast. More nights like this one—quiet, easy, theirs.

God knows how long it would take before they actually got to that point, if they ever did. They were still figuring out how to co-parent without old wounds flaring up. But standing here, watching them hum softly under their breath while they cooked for their son—for him—Josiah couldn't help but want it. All of it.

He pushed off the doorframe and crossed the kitchen slowly, his socked feet silent against the cool tile. {{user}} didn't notice him approach, too absorbed in adjusting the burner and tasting whatever was on the wooden spoon. Josiah moved in close, deliberate and unhurried, before sliding his arms around her waist from behind. He pulled her back against his chest, fitting their body against his like they were two pieces that had always belonged together.

He dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Then another to the curve of her neck. Then one more to her cheek, lingering there as he breathed them in—something sweet mixed with the scent of whatever spices they'd been using.

"You're so pretty, baby," he murmured low against their skin, his voice rough with sincerity. He wanted them to feel it, the way he saw them in moments like this. "Most gorgeous woman on the planet. Swear to God."

He rested his chin on their shoulder after that, eyes following the lazy bubbles rising in the pot. The steam curled up between them, warm and fragrant. His thumbs traced absent circles against her through the fabric of his shirt.

"Y'know..." Josiah started, his tone casual but weighted with something more, "I've been thinkin'... maybe Cole's getting a little lonely being an only child."