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It comes out of nowhere.
The first time she kisses him.
He blames it on himself, for letting his guard down and being so comfortable that he doesn't recognize her oncoming action when she walks up to him at the door.
She does as usual: She greets him with that bright, pleasant smile of hers, Anya not too far behind, and takes his coat to hang up and his briefcase to put away.
He thanks her as usual, giving her a smile he stopped faking long ago, truly appreciative of her insistence on welcoming him home.
However, he doesn't anticipate - calculate - her leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his left cheek. It's so quick that he barely processes the action, but when he does, his stomach does a weird flip and suddenly his cheek feels heavy with weight.
Loid has to keep his hands at his side and refrain from reaching up to touch his left cheek as he asks his wife, “What… What was that for?”
His voice is steady but a little higher than usual.
It's quite embarrassing for a man of his age.
Yor is looking down, hiding her face from him as she twirls on a piece of her dark hair. “I… I was-” She looks up, face red, and pointedly avoids looking him in the eye. “I was trying out something new.”
A more than awkward, “Oh,” is all that leaves his mouth.
They shuffle for a few seconds where they're standing, neither of them bothering to move. Just dead silence between them that starts to become more noticeable the longer they stand there.
Yor breaks the silence first.
“Did you…” She’s still looking anywhere but him. “Did you hate it? If so, I'm so-”
“No.” Loid cuts her off before she can continue. “I… I didn't hate it.”
“Oh.” Finally, she looks him in the eye, her face less red than before. “Really?”
“Yeah, I actually…” Weirdly, his heart starts to speed up as he fishes for the rest of the answer in his brain. It's the part that he thinks he shouldn't say out loud - not at all - but it tumbles from his mouth anyway. “I liked it.”
That seems to throw Yor off because her face darkens with a blush again. “Y-You did?” she squeaks.
Loid coughs. He reaches up to fiddle with his tie. Loosens it because suddenly it's starting to feel a bit warm. “I did,” he says, trying to keep a reticent tone.
“That's…” He notices her body language relax. “That's good. Okay.”
“Is there a reason you-”
But she scurries off, saying that she has to prepare Anya for bed.
Anya is sitting on the couch next to Bond reading a book.
He raises an eyebrow at her.
She shrugs, but there's an odd, knowing smile on her face that he decides isn't worth pestering.
…..
The second time she kisses him, a few days have passed.
He actually anticipates the days following the first time, his heart palpitating at an annoying speed, but it never comes.
It doesn't come for an entire week.
Which is why he doesn't anticipate it again.
This time she does it as soon as he removes his hat from his head.
She doesn't give him any time to remove his coat or even put down his briefcase. He takes off his hat and she swoops in, placing a hand on his right cheek and gently leaving a kiss on his left side once again.
The kiss lingers a little longer this time, giving him time to process the action, but she still pulls away just as quickly and backs away until there's at least five feet of space between them.
His stomach does a weird flip again. Anya giggles in the background.
“W-Welcome home,” Yor stutters. She tries to give him a smile of sorts, but it's shaky and hesitant because she's refusing to look at him directly and her head is tucked down a bit.
“I…” He doesn't know what to say. He just knows that the skin tingles on his cheek and he hates to not reply to her, but it's hard for the words to come out for some reason. When he finds his voice again, he answers, “Th… Thank you.”
And with that, she turns on her heel, walks into her room, and slams the door shut.
She comes out when he finishes dinner.
She still doesn't look at him at the table, which bothers him a bit, so he taps her foot underneath the table gently.
She jerks back, finally looking at him, surprise and confusion on her face.
He gives her a small smile. “I haven't seen your face clearly today.”
A pink blush spreads across her face as she stops wiping Anya’s mouth. “I- We saw each other at the door-”
“You hid your face and ran away after you…” He starts to twirl his fork in his hand. “After you kissed me.”
“I… Sorry.”
“Don't be sorry about that,” Loid says with a shrug. Again, the speed of his heart picks up as he talks. “Just… I'd like to get a good look at you if you're going to kiss me.”
She stares at him, and this time, he wants to hide his face because he can't believe he just said that, but he needed an excuse for her to not run away every time, didn't he?
Yeah.
That’s it.
He likes to look at her.
“O-Okay,” Yor answers softly.
They continue on with dinner in a bit of an awkward silence, but Anya’s rambling keeps him from thinking about Yor kissing him again.
…..
The third time she kisses him is the next morning.
He hates it - not the kiss - because he expects it when he gets home. In fact, he's mentally prepared himself for it this time and tries to pretend he isn't looking forward to it, but just as he leaves for work, Yor grabs his bicep, tugging him towards her gently and kissing his cheek.
This time, she doesn't step away nor does she look away. Despite her face being beet red, she looks him in the eye and says, “H… Have a good day.”
He stares down at her, surprised, and nods slowly, processing “I will,” he replies softly.
She lets go and heads out the door first, escaping the apartment and leaving him be.
His stomach flips once more, and he has to give himself a few minutes to gather himself before he heads out the door.
He thinks about it for the rest of the day, any thoughts of a welcome home kiss out of his brain. He makes a few mistakes on his mission because he's not used to his wife’s kiss lingering all day, but it truly never goes away.
He feels the texture and weight of her lips against his skin all day.
It's not until he comes home that he's able to focus again, and this time, Yor is on the couch, brushing her fingers through Anya’s hair. Their daughter is resting peacefully across her lap, soft snores escaping her.
Yor looks at him, and he gets a good look at her face as she places a finger against her lips with a small giggle.
Her giggle is always light and sweet like cotton candy.
He walks past the couch to get to his room after taking his coat and shoes off, but he stops behind it on his excursion. He stares down at Anya, saying, “It's awfully early for her to be asleep.”
“I took her to the park. I think she exhausted herself.”
“Did she eat?”
“Not yet,” Yor answers. “But we can wake her up after you're done cooking.”
“Alright.”
Loid starts to move, but he finds himself lingering in place instead.
He thinks he's stupid for his next action, but before he knows it, he's leaning down and over to place a kiss on Yor’s cheek.
Except she turns her head just as he does and his lips end up right next to her lips instead. He almost jerks away, but instead, he lets it linger there to play off his shock until he pulls back and is ready to look her in the eye.
“I… I'm sorry. I didn't-” He stands straight. “That was an accident-”
“N-No! I turned my head! I didn't mean to-”
“I just wanted to return your kiss you gave to me this morning-”
“You don't have to. I was just testing it out. We can stop-”
The quickness of the “No!” that leaves his mouth even leaves him stunned.
Yor blinks. “What?”
“I don't-” Loid coughs. “I don't want to stop. You don't have to stop.”
“But-”
“I told you: I like it,” Loid says in a firm voice to keep himself from stuttering so much. “So. Don't- Don't stop. Continue what you'd like.”
“O… Okay,” Yor answers slowly, almost cautiously. “Are you sure?”
He makes his way to the kitchen - although it's not where he was originally headed - as he rolls up his sleeves so this time, he doesn't have to face her. “Of course.”
And he was insane for letting it continue, but… But he doesn't mind.
Because he likes the tingling feeling that her lips leave whenever she kisses him.
…..
Over the course of the next few days, Yor leaves a kiss on the side of his cheek.
Sometimes she changes between mornings and evenings. Some other days she does it at the same time. Others, she makes sure to leave him a kiss in the morning and in the evening, so he never knows when to anticipate it.
He never knows when it's coming.
And he likes it that way - the unpredictability of it all.
He can never guess when she'll kiss him, but he leaves room to secretly look forward to it.
Yet one day, he doesn't guess that she'll kiss him the same way he kissed her by accident.
She leaves a kiss on the very side of his lips.
It stuns him, and when she pulls back, she asks shyly, “Is that okay?”
He's still trying to process it so he only replies, “Is what okay?”
She clears her throat as she points at the spot next to his lips. “Kissing you there.”
He nods ever so slowly. “Y… Yes. That's okay,” he responds.
At that, her lips quirk up just a bit into a small smile. “Okay.”
That's how where she places the kisses becomes unpredictable.
He anticipates the cheek most times, but when she starts to leave a kiss dangerously close to his lips, part of him wants to move his head just a few inches to the right, so they'll be on top of his, but he knows that's too much.
He might scare her away like that.
So every time she kisses him there, he keeps his hands glued to his side, rigid, so he doesn't get the urge to move his head.
But the more she kisses him, the more he wants the full taste of her lips against his mouth, but he knows that has to be crossing a line.
It is, isn't it?
He doesn't know why she's doing this - greeting him and seeing him off with a kiss - but he enjoys it. He likes it.
So he leaves it as is.
Until Yor doesn’t.
He thinks it's an accident at first. He'd moved his head - he had - but his head moved because she had positioned it a few more inches over to the right before placing a soft kiss against his lips.
It's not as short as their other ones, but it's still short enough that it doesn't give him time to breathe.
To respond.
To make her breathless the way he'd like to.
She pulls back, her other hand on his chest, as she asks, “Is that okay?”
He nods. “Always,” he breathes out.
Because it’s always okay.
It’s all okay.
She can kiss him any way she'd like.
(He wants her to.)
The kisses on the lips from Yor always last longer than the regular ones.
He starts to close his eyes when does this, savoring the taste for as long as he can before she pulls away. He hates when she does because he wants to savor them more, longer, until there's nothing else to taste.
However, he can only moon over it all day, failing to hide his elated mood, whenever he thinks about the kisses she leaves on his mouth.
Or maybe, as Franky describes it:
“What's with the goofy ass smile on your face?”
“There's no goofy smile on my face.”
“That wife of yours kissin’ the hell out of you or somethin’?”
Loid pulls the newspaper up to his face to hide his blush as he answers as straightforwardly as possible, “Shut up, Franky.”
It isn't a goofy smile.
His wife's kisses just send a weird, ecstatic feeling through him, something he isn't sure he'd experienced before the past 30 years of his life.
God.
That’s a little embarrassing to say now that he thinks about it.
Has Yor…?
He erases the thought from his brain, but it's a bit too late for that because Yor appears before him just as he gets to the doorstep. She's standing there too, seeming to have just gotten home herself.
Or at least he assumed so.
However, his curiosity about if she'd ever experienced what he is now fogs his brain again, and it's hard to push away when his eyes go to her neck first and he realizes the first few buttons of her blouse are open. He directs his attention to her face, scolding himself for letting his eyes even travel that low.
“Yor?”
“Loid!” Her voice comes out high. She seems to realize this and then lowers her tone as a hand goes up to curl around a loose hair strand. “I… I just got here and realized I forgot my key.”
He gives her a small smile as he takes his own key out. He purposely avoids looking straight at her, though, only because his mind is full of a kiss.
And they haven't even stepped inside yet.
He unlocks the door and he steps to the side, letting her in first before following behind her. He closes it behind them, realizing that now that they've arrived home at the same time, it wouldn't make sense to-
His brain comes to a stop when Yor reaches out and brings his face down to her to plant a kiss on his lips gently. This time, she angles her head, and he can't help but angle it a bit more comfortably to fit them together better. He drops his briefcase to the floor, brings a hand up behind her head faster than his brain can command him first, and pushes her closer into the sweet sensation of their lips against each other.
That surprises her.
She jumps back.
Not away from him, but she jerks her head away enough to stare at him in surprise, her face red and surprised.
He takes it as rejection and pulls back automatically, creating space between them.
“S-Sorry.” God, he sounds pathetic stuttering. “I was trying to- That was- Fuck. I'm sorry, Yor-”
But he's cut off as she closes the empty space between them, places her hands on either side of his cheek, and brings him back to her, angling both their hands to fit together.
This one is a little longer than their usual lip to lip kisses, and when she pulls back, although she's blushing, she mumbles just centimeters from his lips, “No. I liked that. It was nice.”
“Are you sure?” he breathes out, that odd thumping there in his chest again. “I don't want to- That's… if you're uncomfortable-”
He's cut off by another kiss.
This one lasts longer and this time, she moves her plump lips against his and her body closer. He closes his eyes, all resistance futile and letting his mouth move back against hers gently.
Yor pulls away first with a shy chuckle. “You know you talk a lot.”
His heart is doing a lot of flips now.
Between the kiss, her giggle, and the touch of her hands pressed against his skin with warmth, he's overwhelmed with feelings.
“Do… Do I?” he stammers uncharacteristically.
She nods. “Mhmm.”
“Should I… When we do this then, should I talk less?”
He knows it's a stupid question, but he doesn't really know what else to say. His brain is everywhere. Unfocused.
Well. More so focused on her kisses.
His wife's kisses.
She laughs, leaning forward. “You're supposed to not talk at all when we…” It's her turn to blush, but she still finishes her sentence with an amused smile. “Kiss.”
“I'd like that. Talking less.”
Even though he has her permission, he hesitantly reaches up, places a hand behind her head, and closes the little space between them again.
He feels himself melting, almost slumping against her at the meeting of lips, but he keeps himself straight up. He places his other hand on her lower back, letting his hand fist into the hem of her skirt as he brings her so close that he almost forgets there's no more space between them.
They kiss like that for a while, hands fisted in each other's clothing and hair, coming up for little air.
Just the pure bliss and exhilaration of kissing her.
Kissing his wife.
Loid wants to keep going, do more, kiss her deeper, but they're interrupted by a hard knock on their front door.
They pull away at lightning speed as if they’re two teenagers caught doing something they weren't supposed to do.
“Mama! Papa! Anya is home!”
“Anya!” Yor pushes him to the side roughly, but Loid stops her just before she opens the door.
“What-”
“Your- Our clothes,” he mumbles in a strained voice. “We need to fix our clothes.”
“Oh!”
With the help of each other, they put their clothes back in place and fix any bits of their hair they can. Flushed faces and bruised lips they'd just have to hope weren't noticeable.
Loid watches as Yor yanks the door open with more force than she needed to and greets Anya with the biggest smile. Mrs. Blackbell and Becky are both standing at the door too as she picks Anya up and thanks them for dropping her off.
Yor instructs Anya to get ready for bed and that she'd be right behind her to run a bath.
She runs off on her small feet, and just before Yor follows her, he pulls her back to him, arm around her waist and one hand on her right cheek to kiss her again.
She brings her arms up, ready to continue where they'd left off, but Loid pulls back as he says in a low voice, “Anya. Bath.”
Yor brings her arms back down, laughing sheepishly. “Right. I forgot.”
He smirks a bit. “That quick?”
“Loid!”
He laughs and kisses her cheek this time. “Later.”
She tilts her head. “Later?”
He follows it with, “If you want to, that is.”
“Y-Yes-”
“Mama!” Anya calls out.
“Coming, Anya!” She looks at Loid. “S-Sorry. I have to-”
He lets her go.
Later that night, somehow she does end up on the kitchen counter with him standing between her legs while they update each other on their day between smaller kisses.
…..
He thinks they both like kissing.
A lot.
Because these days, instead of saving the kisses for the beginning and end of the day, Yor plants a kiss on him whenever she can. He does the same, finding amusement in the sounds of surprise that usually leave her mouth.
Sometimes she kisses him as he's cooking, which he asks her not to do, because he'd burnt more than a few dishes already because of it. Other times, she steals a few kisses from him in a corner and they both laugh like teenagers sneaking around. And when Anya is put to bed, sometimes she’s shockingly a bit more adventurous.
(He more than likes that.)
Tonight she's pulled him down on the couch, straddling his legs, while kissing him full on the mouth. Her fingers dance just beneath the hem of his shirt, but he's the one with her head in his hands, as he licks at her bottom lip to incite her mouth open.
She gasps but welcomingly invites him to slither his tongue between her teeth where he tastes the sweetness of the buttercream against her tongue from the strawberry shortcake they'd had for dessert.
She breathlessly moans into mouth, letting her other hand come up to grip his hair as she pushes into his mouth, giving him deeper access to explore every part of her mouth.
When their tongues meet, they wrap around each other, hungry and curious. He moans when her teeth graze his tongue and she sucks at it.
That's the adventurous part that surprises him.
They're like that for a long minute. Maybe more.
Loid isn't exactly sure how long they kiss, but eventually Yor is pulling away, hovering above him and her hair falling over her shoulders in waves, panting, with bruised red lips. Her face is flushed in red with half-lidded eyes, and still, her right hand rests beneath his shirt. Part of her blouse is unbuttoned, and he's not sure when he'd done that, but he likes it.
Staring up at her messy state after their kiss.
“You’re beautiful,” he finds himself saying between breaths.
Yor leans back on his stomach. “Am I?” she laughs. Her hand resting under his shirt glides across his stomach. “You're pretty, too.”
That catches him off guard, so he stammers, “R-Really now?”
She leans down and pecks his lips. “Mhmm… Very,” she says against his mouth.
“No one has ever called me pretty before,” he mumbles, amused, right before grabbing her face and pulling her back down to kiss her again. A delighted gasp comes from the back of her throat.
When he pulls back, Yor pants out almost mischievously, “I can keep calling you pretty if you kiss me like that.”
“Oh?” Loid quirks an eyebrow. “Is there a payment for compliments now?”
She laughs, tracing hearts into his stomach with one of her fingers. “It depends on how often you want it.”
“Well, I like to kiss you, so a few times a day in exchange for mind blowing kisses for my wife?”
“You'd kiss me anyway, wouldn't you?” Yor says with a hum. “Whether I called you pretty or not.”
He flips them over and she squeaks. Now he's hovering above her, one hand pinning both her wrists down and his other hooked underneath her knee. She's splayed beneath him, hair spread around her in waves, face flushed still, and a full view of her undershirt beneath her unbuttoned blouse. Her skirt is rolled up her thighs a bit because both her legs are wrapped around his waist.
So far, they've only kissed on the lips.
He wonders what would happen were he to lower his lips below her jaw, place them on her neck where he'd suck and bite at her skin to leave bite marks before sliding her entire top off to engrave her skin with more.
Just as he bends down to kiss her again, a question infiltrates his brain. It's a question he's wondered for a minute these past two months, but he hadn't questioned it because he doesn't question most things Yor does. He trusts her as is, so why would he?
However, curiosity gets the best of him this time.
“Yor?”
She looks up at him. “Hmm?”
“Why did you kiss me?”
Her expression is a little puzzled. “Why did I kiss you?”
He continues on to clarify. “That day at the door when you first kissed me on the cheek. Why did you do that?”
“... Oh.” Her face turns red and her eyes shift to the side in avoidance. “Well… I…”
“It doesn't matter to me. I'm just curious.”
Because it doesn't.
She never needs a reason to kiss him.
She clears her throat, still avoiding his eyes. “Well… Everyone at work always talks about greeting their husbands when they get home…”
“Yeah?” Loid raises an eyebrow. “You always do that.”
(Although he always tells her she doesn't have to.)
“Y-Yeah, but…” Yor swallows. “But some of them mention that they do it with kisses, and I know this is only a contract marriage, but I thought about testing it out because… maybe you'd like it and maybe it'd make us seem more… legit. Real. As a good spouse.”
Real.
He'd forgotten about that.
He lets go of her, places his hands on either side of her head and asks calmly, “Do you only kiss me to make it seem more real?”
Even if she did, he wouldn’t care.
“That was the thought at first, but… the first time I did it and you said you weren't mad because you liked it, I realized that…” She looks him in the eye, still red faced but no longer avoiding his gaze. “I like kissing you. I do it because I like it.”
“Oh.”
“Do you hate that? I'll stop if you want me to-”
“No.” Loid cuts her off firmly, and she stops going into what he knew would be a ramble. “You don't have to stop. I don't want you to because… I like kissing you as well.”
And despite all that they've done, he still finds his face flushing and his heart speeding doing flips when telling her out loud.
“I’m… glad.” She sends him a small, shy smile, and it makes his heart flutter again.
“And Yor.” Her eyebrows raise. “You don't ever have to worry about what a good spouse is allegedly supposed to do. That's bullshit. What you always do is enough no matter what. You can kiss me or not kiss me, and I'll always appreciate you.”
She tugs on his collar, and yet he keeps going.
“You don't have to do anything at all and I would still-”
He's cut off by Yor yanking him down and planting a kiss on his mouth.
“You talk too much,” she states.
He laughs as he slides his fingers up to her hands and intertwines them with hers. “Yeah, you've told me. Sorry.”
“Don't be. Just kiss me.”
So he does.
And after an attempt from Franky to tease him again several weeks later, Loid gladly tells him that he does kiss the hell out of his wife.