You mumble and snuggle impossibly closer to your wife. She’s warm and your bed is comfy and you love dozing off in her arms. You’re almost asleep again but then.
“Love, our child requires your assistance”, she tells you with a poke to your side and you love your kid so you fight off the impending slumber and yell back softly “what do you need kid?”.
“Not you. Other mom”, she yells back and your wife must have sensed the smirk you’ve hidden in the pillow because she swats your arm lightly and starts getting out of bed. You tighten your hold around her and kiss her shoulder lazily. You don’t want her to go just yet.
“Christina”, she says “you’re keeping our child waiting”.
And you know you she’s not up for jest when she doesn’t shorten your name so you let her go with a kiss to her temple and tell her “I would never. I love her too much for that”. She rolls her eyes at you and leaves the bed to go see what your child wants.
When she returns you’ve sleepily moved halfway onto her side of the bed because it smells like her and you’ve missed her. She nudges you gently and tells you to scoot over so you do. And when she puts her arms around your tired body, you swear you’ve never been happier. “What did our baby want, love?”, you ask and she snorts.
“Honey, Maddie’s on her second year of high school. I think she’s outgrown baby status”.
“She will always be my baby”, you grumble and miss the fond look on your wife’s face as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.
When you eventually leave your bed, you make breakfast together. You’re happily chewing on a piece of bacon and scrambling the eggs as she tells you “Chris, I think we should adopt a second kid”. You choke on the bacon and she’s quick to the rescue; she turns off the stove and, somehow, at the same time makes you stop choking. Your wife is a goddamn superhero.
She looks at you with the same fond expression as this morning and tells you that you have a bad habit of choking when things get serious. You agree as you remember your proposal. You’d gotten down on one knee and when she’d turned around you starting choking on the words because god, the way the light captured her eyes made her look even more beautiful - you didn’t know that was even possible. A goddamn superhero. Eventually though you remembered how to speak and even though you forgot the speech you’d rehearsed a billion times she’d said yes. You’d celebrated that night with take out and expensive champagne and she swore it was the best proposal ever. But still, she would never let you live the choking down.
You realise you’d zoned out and you blush at her gaze and tells her that ‘yeah, we should adopt a second kid. Because, love, we have so much love here to not share it’. She takes out plates from the cupboard and kisses your cheek. But you definitely need more so you back her into the counter and capture her lips in a soft kiss. You hear the plates hit the counter and you take that as your cue to lift her bridal style and carry her to the couch where you lay her down and worship her.
She reheats the scrambled eggs in the microwave and you’re grateful. Your body is sore and when she leaves for work, you sigh and take out your computer.
You’re still grading papers when your kid returns from school but you want to know about her day so you save your work (you’re halfway through a horrible essay that sounds more like a conspiracy theory than an essay about the importance of alliances in the 1600’s). You ask her how her day was as she plops down on the chair next to you.
“Okay so I told Dylan not to tell Emily but Dylan is an ass so he told her anyway. So then I had to talk Emily down because she got pissed and fuck, mom I really hate when people are fighting? Because I mean why is it even necessary and ugh why is Dylan such an ass? But anyway long story short I’m not gonna take Emily to prom now because Dylan told her I didn’t like her dress and that’s not even true because I haven’t even seen it yet and I need to see it so I can match my tie otherwise I’ll just pick one that matches her eyes. They’re so blue. But even if I had seen her dress I’m sure she’d look beautiful because she always does and I’m so mad at Dylan because he made her sad and I may have told him to go fuck himself because why would he ever even consider making her cry? Wait why are you looking at me like that?”
You smile and you tell her to call Emily to talk about it because communication is key. You definitely see her rolling her eyes at you but you let it slide because she’d had a tough day and you remember when you were a cute little baby gay filled with big gay feelings. And yeah that was hard to handle and you know she’ll think about what you say anyway so you’re not worried. Besides, your kid is smart so she’ll figure it out.
She brings you a cup of coffee a day later and tells you that Emily was mad because she thought she’d seen her dress and she had wanted it to be a surprise. But they’d talked about it and figured it all out. You tell her you’re so proud of her and she smiles a crooked smile and pats your head.
You don’t know but your wife has been talking to her too and the little rascal has apparently ratted you out and told her how much of a softie you are. Your protest dies on your lips as your wife kisses your pulse point and down down down. When you wake up your body is sore and your voice is hoarse. God, you love your family.
You’ve signed the adoption papers so now you just need to wait. And while you wait you’ve all decided to repaint the guestroom. Needless to say your painting quickly changed from impressing to laughable. You blame the out of place streak on the swing of Ebba’s hips and her lace underwear. Is she trying to kill you? Or even worse, trying to sabotage your masterpiece white monochrome wall?
You get your revenge an hour later when you sneak up on her and hug her from behind, the paint on your clothes transferring to hers. Luckily for you she’s wearing old clothes anyway. She probably saw it coming you realise. You decide that that calls for revenge too so you tease her with neck kisses and sultry words and when her breath is positively heavy you cup her breasts, grin as she gasps and return to finish your masterpiece.
You realise painting is meditative for you. You’re losing track of time and you’re very very focused. And your wife knows you. You do not see her revenge coming. But suddenly you feel cold cold hands on your butt and you curse as the paint dripples down on your hand. She’s not done though. She keeps teasing you and god you could never resist her. You’re leaning into her every touch and you know what is coming and it’s not you. When she’s satisfied with your sharp intake of breath and heaving chest she leaves you to ‘finish up your masterpiece while I go have fun in the bedroom. Bye love”.
You finish up quickly so you can go see your wife and finish quickly.
She smirks at you when you enter the bedroom and you know her hands are not sitting still under the duvet. You cock an eyebrow at her and she just grins and beckons you closer. Not that it’s necessary because you’re already halfway out of your clothes and hurrying to bed. You don’t sleep much that night but you’re proud of the masterpiece you’ve left on her body; hickeys and paint litter her torso and the inside of her thighs.
You leave to make breakfast as she cleans herself up. And fuck. Your kid is looking at you funny so you know she knows. “Mom. Your neck” is all she says about the lipstick stain and you smile a goofy smile because how did you ever get so lucky. You get breakfast ready for Ebba and Maddie is eating cereal. You sit and you ask her how it’s going.
She tells you about school and homework and this thing she read online about how universes connect and merge and in some universes things are horrible and don’t work out but god she hopes this one does. You pretend not to see the blush creeping up her neck as Emily’s name accidentally slips from her tongue and you tell her that this universe is definitely the one where it works out. She thanks you and walks smiling back to her room.
Ebba joins you, starts eating her breakfast and asks about Emily. You tell her that your little baby had taken your brilliant advice and that things were good now. She tuts and shakes her head but you know it’s all in good fun because of the lovely smile on her face.
You were asleep when your kid came home from prom. Keyword: were. And you love that little fucker to hell but damn does she have to walk into all the furniture on the way to her room? You guess you’re not one to talk but at least you try to be quiet. You fall asleep before you can think about it any further.
You wake up because Ebba is kissing your neck lazily. You decide this is how you want to wake up every morning for the rest of your life. You mumble something incoherent and she smiles into the kiss and tells you good morning. You tell her that it’s a good morning indeed and while she rolls her eyes you know she secretly loves how sappy you are.
When you make it into the kitchen, and that took a while because your wife is so beautiful and you’ll be damned if you don’t show her at least once a day, you see your kid happily making pancakes. You stop in your tracks because you don’t think you’ve ever seen her make breakfast before. She looks at you sheepishly and tells you that she wanted to make Emily breakfast. You high five her and tells her to be safe and smart about things and she nods seriously. You’re very proud and she hums while bringing breakfast back to her room.
Your wife snakes her arms around your stomach and rests her head on your shoulder and you didn’t think your grin could be any wider but you’re constantly proven wrong by these wonderful wonderful humans. You tilt back your head to plant a sloppy kiss in her hair.
You're happy with Ebba and Maddie and Emily are doing well.
This is the universe where things work out.