---
It started with pancakes.
Aiden was humming in the kitchen, flipping golden pancakes perfectly when Sion sauntered in—shirtless, of course—and reached over to flip one with his finger.
"STOP. Touching. My. Pancakes."
"But they're ours," Sion said, nibbling a piece of one anyway.
Aiden narrowed his eyes. "Kitchen is my kingdom. Touch anything without permission and you'll face exile."
Sion smirked. "Then I'll start a rebellion."
Five minutes later, flour was everywhere, Leo had pancake batter on his head, and somehow, a spoon was lodged in the ceiling.
"I hate you," Aiden muttered.
"You love me," Sion said, shoving half a pancake into Aiden's mouth. "See? Peace offering."
---
Later That Day…
Aiden opened the washing machine and gasped. "YOU. Washed. Red with white. My shirt is pink, Sion."
"It's a nice pink," Sion said from the couch. "Trendy."
Aiden stormed in, holding the now baby-pink work shirt. "It was designer. I looked like a CEO in this. Now I look like a strawberry milk ad."
"You'd be the cutest strawberry milk."
"Shut up and do the laundry properly from now on."
"But I thought we were doing everything together now," Sion said with puppy eyes.
"You're doing the laundry alone."
---
That Night…
Aiden finally settled into bed, sighing, "Peace at last."
But halfway through the night, he woke up shivering.
"Where's the blanket…?"
He turned.
Sion was wrapped like a burrito in all the covers, limbs sprawled across the bed, snoring softly.
Aiden poked him. "Give me the blanket."
Sion mumbled, "Mmm… love you…"
"No. Give. Me. The blanket—"
Sion, in his sleep, yanked Aiden into the cocoon instead.
Now face-to-face, tangled up, Aiden sighed in surrender. "You're the worst."
Sion whispered sleepily, "Still married me."
Aiden buried his red face in Sion's chest. "Unfortunately."
Sion smirked, eyes still closed. "You love me."
"…Yeah. I do."
---