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[noburden]

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[rosarianoath]

"Our baby will be his friend." The way he's rubbing himself against her, he'd be lucky to have a baby on the way at all. "As soon as possible..."

[noburden]

Jill's breath hitches on the edge of a laugh, and it's such an abrupt sensation it makes her need to cough to right the air in her throat. He's wasted. Cute, but wasted.

"You are incredibly precious right now."

[rosarianoath]

He slows his roll against her as she coughs, a hand roving up and down her back to soothe her.

"I'm always precious to you," he says. "As you are to me."

[noburden]

True. Jill laughs, able to breathe again.

"How much thought have you given that, exactly?"

Even if he's drunk, she can't help but be moved. This time last year, he would never be able to have this conversation, even with a whole bar's worth of bottles in him.

[rosarianoath]

“Thought about what?”

Babies? Being precious?

He rolls her over so he can be atop her.

[noburden]

"Our future. A baby." Or two or three, whatever. She doesn't fight being rolled, reaching up to run her hands over his body wherever she can reach once on her back.

[rosarianoath]

He pins her with his hips and belly, weight on his elbows. He looks down at her fondly.

“All the time,” he says. “I want to fill you up with babies.”

[noburden]

Oh. Jill looks up at him, amused.

"One at a time, please."

[rosarianoath]

“I only have one to give at a time,” he says.

[noburden]

Cute. So very cute. She taps the tip of his nose with her index finger.

"I always thought we'd name our child Elwin." Because Jill has thought about this, and she has decided their firstborn will be a son, and they will name him after Clive's father. A thing she thinks safe to admit to a drunk Clive.

[rosarianoath]

He looks at her with genuine surprise, and a growing tenderness — how perfect is she?

“That is exactly what I would want,” he says. “My father would like that.”

[noburden]

"So would I. I'll let you name the one that follows," she teases. "We'll take turns."

[rosarianoath]

“I will have to think on names,” he says, feeling far too drunk to be imaginative in that way, and he instead just kisses her on the mouth.

[noburden]

She returns the kiss with a small sound in the back of her throat. Maybe she can get tipsy off his breath.

"I'll ask you in the morning."

He's going to have one hell of a headache.

[rosarianoath]

He loves her, and in this particular moment loves the softness of her mouth, and he kisses her as long as he can drunkenly support himself above her. Then he sinks down, having the decently to list to one side so his weight isn’t entirely on her.

[noburden]

She runs the fingers of one hand through his hair, glad to not be trapped.

"Is the room spinning? Rocking?"

[rosarianoath]

“Swimming,” he says, though he hasn’t swam… ever. “Sleep beckons me.”

[noburden]

"Then I'll hold onto you so you don't drown," she says, still terribly amused by him.

Not that she can swim, either. She reaches a hand around to rub his back.

[rosarianoath]

He hums comfortably, nestling his face in the crook of her neck.

Within a minute, he's out like a light.

[noburden]

Jill sighs, the solid weight of his head against her welcomed. He gets another run of her fingers through her hair before she closes her eyes and wills herself to sleep.

At least until her bladder wakes her in the early hours of the day, sunlight just peeking through the curtains. She grunts softly.

"Clive," she says. She has to piss.

[rosarianoath]

He just grumbles, mostly asleep.

“Mm?”

[noburden]

"I need to get up," she tells him, patting his shoulder.

[rosarianoath]

Clive, being stupid, just shifts to snuggle in closer, as if they weren’t already nested tightly together.

“In a bit,” he mutters.

[noburden]

Oh, how sweet he is, cuddling up like she always adores. It just puts that much more pressure on her bladder. Jill grunts and clenches down.

"Clive, please," she says, and starts to wiggle out from under him. Even a portion of his weight can feel like the mattress is on top of her rather than beneath.

[rosarianoath]

“What?” he grumbles, eyes still closed — in fact he grimaces, eyes squeezed tighter shut, refusing to risk waking.