A/N: Ummmm...so usually once I write and post something I kind of banish it from my brain and forget it exists...but when I was literally almost finished writing this chapter it suddenly seemed familiar, so I went back and checked the previous one...and...um...I mean, they aren't the same...but they're pretty frickin' similar...which was totally unintentional...but I think it might work as a sort of parallel to how their loves have changed maybe?...pfft whatever...I couldn't be bothered starting over...so...yeah...
Okay...so we're nearing the end (four chapters after this!) but we're also going to be jumping ahead in time a bit more...because I strayed wildly from my original plan and have to fit some stuff in that I really wanted to write...so let's all hop into the back of the DeLorean and jump forward about 2½ years...oh, and if you don't know what the DeLorean is we can't be friends...
For you silly Americans (I tease because I love :P ), nappy = diaper...and start using the metric system! :)
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"Why did we think this would be a good idea?"
Naomi rolls onto her side and faces her wife. Her wife who just gets more beautiful as the days and months and years go by. More elegant, alluring, graceful, sexy. Her heart still flutters every time she sees her. Her skin still hums with anticipation of her loving touch, which never fails to set off fireworks all over her body. Naomi knows she's lucky, very fucking lucky. But at the moment she doesn't feel it, simply feels frustrated, thanks to their son wedged between them, creating a barrier to her lustful desires. She may be grown up and married and a mother, but sometimes Naomi is still at the mercy of her lust for her wife, and acts like a spoiled little toddler when she can't have her toy.
"Hey, this was your idea," Emily counters with a smirk, rubbing her eyes and yawning, taking far too much pleasure in Naomi's frustration, like she always does.
It's barely 8am on a Sunday morning, and Naomi cringes at the fact that she's actually awake. She had been looking forward to sleeping in, then making love to her wife all morning, with the far too optimistic and unrealistic idea that Oliver would cooperate and sleep in too. But he had other ideas, crawling into their bed at 6am and wedging himself between them, then proceeding to kick them in his sleep. It's a good thing they both wear pyjamas now.
Naomi scoffs at their familiar teasing. Anytime Ollie does something wonderful, which is most of the time, they both try to claim it, but at times like this they both playfully blame the other.
"Oh like you weren't brooding for kids since we were seventeen," she replies with a raised eyebrow. "I just brought it up first."
"Sure," Emily says mockingly. "Keep telling yourself that."
They smile at each other adoringly for a minute, but the moment is interrupted when Ollie rolls over and snuggles into Naomi, his little hand gripping her t-shirt.
She sighs contentedly, because really, she can't complain about spending the morning in bed with their son. She runs her hand through his hair gently, not wanting to disturb his sleep, although Ollie could sleep through an atomic bomb, he takes after Emily that way. It's amazing to her how this little person is such a part of them. How he shares parts of their personalities, despite questions of parentage. He's like a sponge, absorbing everything around him.
He has the appetite of Emily and eats like a truck driver, gobbling everything up in sight, with seemingly endless energy to burn, never still, even in sleep. He's such an active kid, always running around and playing and talking. But he has Naomi's temper, quick to anger and never shying away from a tantrum, no matter how public the venue. Lucky Emily is so good at soothing him in those situations. Naomi always thought that she would be the disciplinarian, knowing that was lacking in her upbringing, but it surprised her how easily she's swayed by her son. She's a big softie, there's no doubt about it, and Ollie runs rings around her. Emily is the sensible parent, and Naomi already fears for how easily she'll give in to Ollie when he's older.
He's so inquisitive and alert, always wanting to know about things and asking why, and Naomi is convinced that he's already smarter than her. He's only three and he's already figured her out. Knows exactly how to play her. He likes to learn new words, rolling them around in his mouth and saying them over and over again with delight. She knows every parent thinks it, but her son really is a genius, despite the fact that he sometimes sticks things up his nose and in his ear. He's becoming more independent as the days go by and it makes her a little anxious, reminds her that he won't be her little boy forever.
His loose mousy-brown curls fall across his forehead and over his eyes. Naomi brushes them back softly and his little nose wrinkles. She's still convinced he has her narrow nose and her ice blue eyes, but he also has Emily's mouth and chin, and she knows that that's impossible, but she wants to believe it anyway. Indulges herself, thinks that their love has done miraculous things before, so why not this.
"He needs a haircut," Emily whispers, her voice hoarse and husky like every morning, sending a flutter of warmth low in Naomi's belly.
She suddenly remembers what she's missing and scrunches her face.
"He needs to sleep in his own bed," she whispers with playful annoyance, which quickly turns into real annoyance when he knees her in the stomach. "Jesus," she breathes out harshly and winces.
Emily gazes at her sympathetically and blows her a kiss. Naomi sighs at their lack of actual physical contact and reaches her hand across Ollie to rest on her wife's right breast. Just because it's the only thing she can do and they're sitting so perfect and pushing against the tight singlet and she just can't help herself. Emily looks down and giggles, and the blonde feels her pressing up into her hand with the rise and fall of her chest. She trails her hand lower to the soft skin of her wife's stomach, exposed where her singlet has ridden up. It's one of her favourite places on Emily's body, just inside her hip, and she loves the way it quivers under her touch or kiss.
"We need to get Katie to babysit more often," she murmurs.
Emily groans her agreement as Naomi's fingers dance across silky smooth skin and she feels the muscles beneath them tense. Hears her wife's sharp intake of breath when she starts to feel her way under the waistband of Emily's underwear.
"Naomi," Emily breathes out, her tone warning. "Oliver."
Naomi concedes her point and groans, slips her hand out of her underwear and retracts it completely just to be safe.
"I say we leave him with Katie and Cook tonight," she suggests. "Your sister loves having him over and he loves staying there."
Emily narrows her eyes. "I thought we didn't like it when Cook babysits him?"
Naomi thinks about the last time that happened, when she'd sworn that Cook would never babysit Oliver again. They'd been about to leave for a wedding when they were left short at the last minute because their babysitter fell through, so they'd left him with Cook as an absolute last resort. And this was before he had moved in with Katie and was still living above Keith's pub. Neither of them had been entirely comfortable with the idea, but Cook had assured them it would be fine.
When they'd picked Ollie up later that night he was running around in only a nappy, covered in dirt and paint and food, and he'd had entirely too much sugar to eat. Oh, and Cook was a little bit buzzed from the pot he'd smoked, and Naomi wasn't entirely convinced that Oliver wasn't a bit stoned as well just from being around him. They had both been furious but Naomi had really flown off the handle and it'd taken her a good few weeks to even speak to Cook again, apologetic as he was. Emily was a bit more forgiving – it was the first time he'd ever babysat by himself, and Ollie was a handful at the best of times. He was a polite and well mannered boy, but shifty as all hell.
"Katie will be there." She gazes at her wife. "We need some adult time."
Emily smirks and shakes her head but Naomi knows that she's thinking the exact same thing. They haven't had as much time alone together as they would have liked thanks to the exhausting week they'd both had.
"I'll ask her," Emily replies, her hand rubbing circles on Oliver's back.
Naomi grins at the thought of being alone with Emily all night, before she feels Oliver pushing against her chest and looks down.
"I think he's waking up," she whispers, as Oliver yawns and rubs at his eyes with his tiny little fist.
They watch him in wonder, and Naomi still can't get over how fascinated she is with everything that he does. She could sit and watch him just be for hours on end. The way everything in the world is interesting for him, the quiet way he goes about figuring things out. The complete innocence.
He blinks his eyes open slowly and seems to take a second to comprehend where he is. He glances at Naomi and grins, and Naomi snuggles into him closer.
"Good morning Ollie."
She can feel his little heart beating so much faster than hers, his small hand resting against her chest.
"G'morning Mum," he mumbles in his sleepy voice.
He pulls away from her after a minute to turn and face Emily, and Naomi loves the smile that breaks out across Emily's face, her whole being lighting up for their son.
"Hi Mummy," he mumbles, snuggling his head into the crook of Emily's neck.
Emily holds him close to her for a second until he pulls back.
"Hey baby," she coos, smoothing his hair down and kissing his cheek. "Did you have a good sleep?"
He nods enthusiastically, and sits up between them, suddenly wide awake.
"Breakfast time now," he demands with a smile then turns to Naomi. "Pancakes Mum."
Naomi laughs – pancakes are her specialty, and the only thing she cooks that Oliver will actually eat. Emily does the majority of the cooking in the house, mostly because Naomi is terrible at it, but she can cook a few things, and her pancakes are damn good. She loves that they are Ollie's favourite food and that Emily's kind of jealous.
She looks to her wife for her thoughts on the breakfast suggestion, and the redhead nods.
"Okay," Naomi replies and delights in watching Oliver's eyes light up. "We can have pancakes, but only if you help me make them."
He claps his hands together excitedly and nods, and he looks so damn adorable that Naomi can't stop herself from dragging him to her and smothering his face with kisses. He giggles and tries to push her face away, and Emily gets in on the act too, pulling up Ollie's pyjama top and blowing kisses on his belly as he shrieks with laughter and kicks his legs out. Emily lets go of him a second later, crawling across and pushing Naomi onto her back, quickly placing one knee on either side of her hips so that before the blonde knows it she's being straddled by the redhead, who then grabs her wrists and pins them down.
"Quick Ollie, help me get Mum."
Oliver giggles and jumps up onto his knees, tickling Naomi's sides and under her neck while kissing and licking all over her face, encouraged by Emily's laughter. Naomi wriggles and pretends to fight back, but really, she never wants this to stop, wishes they could do this forever.
After a minute of fun Emily pulls Ollie off and sits him up in front of her so that his back is against her chest, one leg hanging down on either side of Naomi. He's still laughing while Naomi catches her breath, and Emily releases her wrists so that she can wipe her face.
"Hey Ollie," she hears Emily saying, "you go into your room and find Mr Teddy and your special pancake t-shirt, and I'll be in soon okay?"
His eyes light up again at the mention of his pancake t-shirt and Naomi laughs. It's just a plain blue t-shirt, but he'd been wearing it one day when she was making pancakes, and he'd accidentally flipped the mixing bowl over onto himself, the batter running all over his front. He'd started calling it the pancake t-shirt, and insisted on wearing it every time they made them.
He jumps up from Naomi eagerly and Emily helps him down from the bed, and they watch his little legs run him out of their room and into his own.
She feels Emily staring at her and turns to meet her gaze. The redhead is smiling adoringly, and Naomi smirks back, because she knows that her wife is totally hot for her right now.
Emily puts one hand on either side of Naomi's head and lowers herself down, holding her body above the blonde so that they're faces are inches apart. Naomi settles her hands on her wife's hips and pulls her closer.
Emily kisses her nose. "You," she kisses one cheek, "Are," then the other, "Lovely."
Their lips finally meet and she pulls Emily closer as her tongue slips into her mouth. The redhead's arms give way and her body falls flush against Naomi's, her hands tangling in blonde hair while Naomi grabs her bum and pulls her closer. Emily can never be close enough.
Her hand has just started creeping its way under Emily's singlet when they hear Oliver yelling from his room.
"Mummy! Can't find it!"
Emily relaxes her body and smiles against her lips. Naomi sighs with frustration, but truthfully she isn't that annoyed, because she can't deny her son anything, even when he wants Emily. The redhead pulls her body up, smoothes Naomi's hair down and drops a placating kiss on her lips before lifting herself off the bed.
She walks out of the room swaying her hips for Naomi's benefit, and the blonde yells after her.
"I don't care if we have to pay Katie to babysit!"
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Man, Naomi is always annoyed she can't have sex isn't she! Horny little bugger...but it is Emily Fitch so you know...who wouldn't be...It feels weird writing family bonding time...idk...let me know what you think...I'm feeling needy, lol. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your reviews and messages, REALLY, especially now when I'm struggling with this story a bit...but this one's for warriormari, just for always being so lovely ;)
Also just giving you guys a heads up – I'm writing another fic at the moment and might upload it soon, it's AU and set in college and completely different to this one, but if you're interested do that alert thingy...or just keep an eye out!
peace out,
audrey