𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞
☆ Genre: Domestic, fluff, slightly suggestive
☆ Warnings: None
☆ Characters: Chris, Y/N
☆ Word Count: 1.4k
His back was turned towards her when Y/N caught sight of him; Chris was humming to himself so quietly that it felt like the sound was a mere vibration buzzing around him, and Y/N couldn't help but smile. The sturdiness of his back was visible through his t-shirt, and the soft black drapes hugged his frame as he moved, his muscles rippling faintly. His hands glistened with soapy water, and clean dishes were stacked in an orderly fashion beside him.
Padding up to him, Y/N curled her arms around her husband's waist. Chris's body melted slightly at the welcome familiarity of her touch, and he leaned back into her embrace, his shoulder brushing her nose.
“Don't even think about it,” Chris suddenly warned her, his sharp eyes immediately spotting one of her hands slowly hovering over the sink.
Y/N's laughter was soft, and she retracted her hand. “Okay, okay … fine.”
“Good girl,” Chris chuckled, reaching for another plate that he had been soaking in the sink.
Her smile widening, Y/N tightened her grip on her husband's sturdy torso instead. She rested her cheek against the silky skin at the base of his neck as her gaze followed the way he continued to stack washed items. Each of his movements were methodical, a structured system flowing out of him as he moved; Y/N wasn't particularly fond of doing the dishes, though she hated the sight of piled up dishes even more - still, Y/N had to admit there was something so soothing about watching Chris's repetitive motions … and then of course, there was the way his delicate hands glistened under the water, droplets trickling down the intricate webbing of his veins …
“Why are you smiling like that, weirdo?” Chris's shoulders shook against her with quiet laughter. “Can feel it … “
Y/N flushed, hiding her face against his arm. “No reason.”
“Oh yeah? You're such a liar,” Chris laughed. He turned his face a little to catch sight of her playful expression; the man started to laugh, and he tilted his head, pressing a tender kiss to her nose.
“You're the weirdo,” Y/N hummed back, settling her chin against the crook of his neck. “Can't believe you're doing the dishes. Again. You don't give me the chance to do them anymore … it's like you actually enjoy it.”
Chris grinned. “Because I do. It's satisfying.”
“It's gross. Slimy food bits,” Y/N shuddered, pressing closer to his warmth. “Foreign substances. Sensory nightmare.”
“Well, yeah, I guess there is that … “ Chris agreed. “But you just have to rinse it off properly first … see?”
Y/N wrinkled her nose. But still, “Sure you don't want me to do it?”
Lips spreading into a smile at that, Y/N nuzzled her face into the warm space between his shoulder blades. She might have been standing up, but clinging to her husband was beginning to make her feel slightly drowsy … or perhaps she felt so peaceful, glued to him, that she couldn't really tell the difference.
“You're so perfect … “ she whispered, her eyes hooded.
Chris's ears heated. He turned his head and delivered another kiss, landing it onto the crown of her head. “I'm not.”
“You are,” Y/N protested. “You cook, you clean, you do the dishes, you give the best hugs, you're outrageously hot - “
Chris choked. “Why are you making me sound like a sexy housewife?”
Y/N started to giggle. “Because you are one.”
“Yeah, well, you make me wanna be a housewife, so … “ Chris snorted, his eyes crinkling as he set another piece of crockery into the drying rack. “What is it the kids say these days? I'm on my knees for you?”
“I don't think they say that anymore … “ Y/N blinked. “Old man.”
Chris burst into more laughter, and he wiped his brow with the back of his damp hand. “First a housewife, now an old man?”
“One of them sounds more accurate than the other.”
Giggling again, Y/N squeezed him a little tighter, her earlier thoughts seeping back into her mind as the man continued with his task. “Are you even real? Are you human?”
And then, peering around his shoulder, “Where the fuck did you come from?”
Chris picked up a glass as he spluttered with bubbly laughter. “Same place you came from?”
“No,” Y/N shook her head against him. “I don't think so.”
“You're so cute,” Chris grinned. “Think you've lost your mind though. Your whole, entire mind.”
Y/N giggled, the sound muffled by his t-shirt. She tried to hug him even more, despite being as pressed up to him as was possible, and for a moment, she just stood there, watching him.
Until her fingers lightly brushed the hem of his t-shirt. Her eyes sparkled with mischief before they slipped beneath, and the pads of her fingertips pressed against his hot skin.
Chris sucked in a breath. “Baby … “
Spurred on by his response, Y/N laughed under her breath and inched her fingers further upwards; she smoothed them over the ridges of his abdominal muscles, tracing the faint veins kissing his skin, and Chris stuttered faintly, his cheek dimpling as his face broke into an embarrassed grin.
“Come on … I'm tryna do the dishes … “ Chris groaned.
“Mmm … but you're so warm,” Y/N teased, her hand continuing its journey up the plane of his muscle. His t-shirt began to roll up as her hands moved, and when her fingers brushed ever so faintly over the underside of his pecs, Chris dropped a spoon into the sink with a clatter.
Y/N's laughter was full of amusement. Chris hung his head low, his hands gripping the edge of the counter as he exhaled shakily, Y/N's hands still wrecking havoc beneath his worn t-shirt.
“What are you trying to do to me, huh?” Chris breathed, picking up the spoon again. “You really need to stop, baby girl.”
“Mmm … don't want to,” Y/N giggled. She continued to sweep her hands up and down his torso, and to her satisfaction, she felt his skin starting to burn with every passing second.
Chris swallowed thickly. He couldn't keep the smile off his face, however, his body betraying him as it leaned further back into Y/N of its own accord, moulding into the curve of her frame.
“You're driving me crazy,” Chris managed through a hoarse chuckle when her fingers brushed a little higher for the third time. “Just wait until I'm done.”
“Oh no, you only have one glass left,” Y/N grinned wickedly. She watched as the man picked it up and washed it as quickly as he could before depositing it on the drying rack. He dried his hands on a towel, and before she had the chance to pull her hands from his t-shirt, Y/N was suddenly scooped up, and laughter escaped her as she found herself situated on one of the counters, Chris standing between her legs.
She had half been expecting it - but it was still just as shocking when Chris's hands, hot from the water, weaved their way up her shirt. The contact made her shiver, and her breath hitched, just as Chris smirked in a way that made her legs turn into jelly.
“Gone all quiet on me, baby?” Chris teased as he brushed his thumbs over the sides of her ribs. “Hmm?”
“Chris … “ Y/N whined, dropping her blushing face into her hands. It only made Chris laugh, and his breath was heated against her cheek as he leaned closer.
“You just couldn't help yourself, could you?” Chris mused. His grin was dangerous, and Y/N looked at him through the gaps in her fingers. There was a touch of humour threaded through his fingers, and despite the goosebumps that prickled along the expanse of her skin as his touch followed the path she mapped out on his body before, she found herself giggling.
“You're not being fair … “ Y/N huffed.
“I'm not being fair?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “I'm only doing what you did to me, pretty girl.”
“Yeah but can you blame me? You're so addicting to touch.”
Chris's nose turned pink. “I could say the same about you, you know.”
Before he could say those exact words and reduce her into a pile of ash, Y/N cupped her hand over his mouth. “Shh.”
His laughter was hot on her fingers. His lips were soft as he pushed them forward, leaving gentle kisses over the inside of her palm.
