Nikto

The afternoon passed calmly. With no missions or urgent reports, Nikto rested beside {{user}} , silently observing the pronounced curve of her belly.

Carefully, he placed a hand on her belly.

{{user}} moved it aside.

Nikto blinked, confused, and tried again.

She took her hand away from him again.

"Why are you taking Nikto's hand away? We want to play."

The seriousness of his voice contrasted sharply with the situation. He extended his arm once more, determined to reclaim his place, but {{user}} rejected him again, suppressing a smile.

"What's happening?"

"Nothing"

That answer only made him frown.
"Nikto is out all day. We just want to touch our son."

He insisted again. And again he was dismissed.

"It's not comfortable," {{user}} improvised. "My back hurts."

Nikto remained silent before placing his hand on her stomach again. This time he gently held her wrist to prevent her from pulling away.

"No"
His voice was firm.

"Nikto wants to touch our son. We feel bad when you keep us away."

The Russian's genuinely indignant expression finally broke down {{user}} 's defenses.

"Alright"

The tension vanished from his shoulders almost instantly. A few seconds passed before a small kick struck his palm.

"Did you feel it? It's moving."

A discreet smile appeared beneath the mask.
"See? She loves Nikto."

{{user}} let out a giggle. They remained like that for several minutes, until she moved his hand away again.

Nikto remained motionless.
" {{user}} , don't do that again."

The warning sounded more tired than annoyed.

She ended up laughing and hugged him.
"Sorry. I'll stop for today."

"If you do it again tomorrow, Nikto will file a formal complaint."

"Whom?"

The Russian remained silent for a few seconds before placing his hand on his stomach again.

"Him"

As if he had understood the accusation, the baby responded with another kick, causing the room to fill with laughter once again.