Micah – 2.5 years old
The first thing Olivia hears when she opens the front door is Micah having some kind of meltdown.
She sighs and takes her shoes off, already to trying to hear what he's saying, and trying to figure out whether Fitz is handling it or not. When she makes her way into the kitchen, she finds Fitz cooking at the stove, back turned to their red-faced, sobbing two-year-old; she can tell he's trying to ignore the meltdown, hoping that it will stop.
Micah doesn't exactly seem angry, but he's clearly beside himself, chest catching with sobs, little fists balled up as he wails.
"Hey," she says softly, kneeling down in front of him, "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong."
Micah hiccups and bounces, blubbering incoherently.
"It's okay, do you want a hug?" she soothes, "What's wrong?"
He pushes her away, refusing to be hugged just yet and stomping his feet while he keeps crying and trying to talk.
"Wow," she breathes, still calm and quiet, "Those are really big feelings. That's a lot. Can you take a deep breath? Why are you sad? If you take a deep breath you can tell me what's wrong."
After another minute, he finally looks like he might be running out of steam. He rubs his eyes and stops stomping and bouncing, whimpering and trying to catch his breath.
"Shhh…shhh. You're okay," she soothes, gently pulling him closer and kissing his forehead, "You're all worked up. Shhh."
Miraculously, he quiets as soon as she kisses him, sniffling and wiping his nose. She kisses him again, pressing her lips against his warm forehead.
"Yeah, see?" she says softly, rubbing his back, "Shhh. I'm right here, I'm listening. Hi. What's wrong?"
"I'n thirsty," he whimpers, asking as though he's been in the desert without water.
Liv nods and widens her eyes, listening intently, not at all surprised that something as simple as a cup of water is the cause of his hysterics. "Oh, you're thirsty, okay. Do you want a drink, please?"
"Yeah," he hiccups, reaching out to touch her hair, something he has a habit of doing.
She stands up and lets him attach himself to her leg, shuffling across the kitchen slowly so he can follow her. "Okay, let's get your cup."
He quietly hangs onto her pants while she gets him a drink, guessing that he might also be getting too hungry and opting for milk instead of water.
"Alright," she murmurs, kneeling down to him again, "How's that?"
Micah inhales a few gulps from the cup and takes a big shuddery breath, nodding and then reaching for her. Now that he's stopped crying she can see how tired he looks, and she scoops him up, letting him lay his head on her shoulder.
"We'll have some of Daddy's yummy dinner soon," she tells him softly, swaying a little, "And then we'll take a bath and read some books, okay?"
"No," he whines, tossing his cup onto the floor, burying his face in her neck.
She sucks in a breath and nudges the cup out of the way, rubbing his back. "Okay, we won't talk about that right now. Mommy's thinking too far ahead."
Fitz has been working on dinner throughout their exchange, stirring a couple of pots at the stove. She finally goes to stand next to him and he glances over at her, looking almost as tired as Micah.
"Hi," she says carefully.
"He didn't nap today," Fitz sighs, shaking his head.
"—okay, well that—"
"—he refused to take a nap, and he's been cranky ever since—"
"—Fitz, I didn't—"
"—I can only negotiate so much, I just needed to start dinner—"
"—I didn't say—"
"—I didn't even hear him ask for a drink. I needed to walk away—"
"Fitz," she says quietly, eyes widening.
She waits until he looks at her, and then she smiles gently.
"I wasn't even going to say anything," she breathes, shaking her head, "I can tell he didn't nap. If he's getting upset at me offering bath time—I can already tell I'm gonna need wine, are you joining me or what? I'm surprised you haven't started without me."
Fitz slumps a little. "I haven't even had time, I thought he was gonna hyperventilate."
"Okay, let's—Micah, do you want to watch a show?"
"Yeah," he whimpers, still the picture of pitiful.
"Open the wine," she whispers as she turns away, finally getting a smile out of him.
She gets Micah settled on the couch with his milk, under his favorite blanket, managing to negotiate that she'll come and sit with him in 'just one minute' only after the show starts and he's distracted. Fitz is pouring wine when she comes back into the kitchen.
"Poor little guy, he's exhausted," she sighs, untucking her blouse as he hands her a glass.
"Where do you find the patience to do that?" he says immediately.
She freezes mid-sip, blinking at him. "To do what?"
"To talk to him when he's like that? I can't get him to calm down for me like that, Liv. It's frustrating," he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair.
"Oh," she says quietly, taking in the exhaustion and distress on his face, "Well…I am a professional negotiator. Even in the moment, I'm pretty confident I'll outlast him."
Fitz smiles at that, shaking his head and taking a sip of wine.
"But I guess—I guess I just think about the fact that he really only has, what, three things he'll get that upset over? He's either hungry or thirsty, tired, or bored, and any combination will really push him over the edge," she continues, shrugging.
"Are we supposed to just let him act like that though?" Fitz sighs, leaning back against the counter, "He knows better than to throw a cup on the ground, you didn't even say anything."
She tips her head thoughtfully, taking a sip of wine. "He's exhausted. Shit, I can barely keep it together when I'm exhausted and hungry, we can't just expect him to be fine. He doesn't have any coping skills yet, he's two. I wasn't about to discipline him in that moment, it wouldn't have been productive at all."
He thinks about that for a moment, absently swirling his very full wine glass a little. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I've just been ignoring him when he gets that upset. Figure he needs to blow off some steam."
"I don't have an issue with that," she shrugs, "We don't have to handle him exactly the same way. But I have started to notice when he's just upset with life in general like that, he responds if you just hug him. Or give him a kiss."
"I need to remember to try that, I don't know why I haven't," he sighs, shaking his head, "The crying just…gets to me some days."
"Hey," she says softly, stepping forward into his arms, "I'm also not here with him all day. You're allowed to be tired and run out of patience, you're human. It's okay."
He still looks defeated, looking over her head instead of down into her eyes.
"Some days I just—" He breaks off and shakes his head, finally looking at her, "—I don't feel like a good dad. And that sucks."
"You," she murmurs, cupping the back of his neck, "Are an amazing dad. Always."
Her eyes are soft, reassuring, and her faith in him is almost always enough to make him feel at least a little better. He lets her pull him down into a kiss, sighing deeply when just the relief of touching her after being apart all day relaxes him.
"Look, some of it is teaching him how to feel his feelings, and some of it is just…he's two. He has to outgrow it. Everything is so magnified for him, it feels like the end of the world. He's little."
"I know," he sighs, nodding, "Today was just rough. Shit."
The pot of pasta on the stove chooses that moment to boil over, and he quickly moves to turn the heat down, reaching for a spoon. Olivia wanders over to the kitchen doorway and smiles instantly, leaning against the frame.
"Hey," she says, gesturing for him to come over and look.
Micah has tipped over on the couch and is sound asleep, pouty lips parted to accommodate his deep belly breaths.
"Wiped out," Fitz smiles, shaking his head, "Why do they fight it so hard?"
"I have no idea but I'm leaving him there," she says, backing out of the doorway, "I'll take him upstairs in a minute."
He chuckles and goes back to the stove, dumping his pan of sautéed vegetables into the drained pasta. She hops up and sits on the counter next to him, watching him stir everything together and then start to grate a pile of parmesan cheese onto the cutting board. He can feel her eyes on him while they relax in companionable silence, and he glances up as she takes a sip of her wine.
"What?" he asks, keeping one eye on the box grater.
"C'mere a minute," she smiles, setting her glass down.
He wipes his hands on a towel, and then lets her pull him to stand between her thighs, looping an arm around her back. She wraps her arms around his neck and sighs into a kiss, winding her legs around his hips to bring him even closer.
"Hi," she murmurs, feeling the tension in his back, carefully cataloguing the extra stress on his face.
He knows exactly what she's doing, and he closes his eyes, finally feeling the stress of the day start to fade.
"Hi," he sighs, pressing his face into her neck, inhaling deeply, "We missed you today."
She hums, slowly scratching her fingers through his hair, letting his warmth soak into her.
"Are you hungry right now? We don't have a kid to feed anymore, he's out for the night."
"Not especially. You can eat if you want."
"You know what I think we should do?"
He pulls back to look at her, already picking up on the hint of playfulness in her voice. "What?"
"I think," she says softly, "That I should pour you something a little stronger than wine, and then we should go upstairs and take a bath—"
A slow smile spreads across his face as he realizes they do have an impromptu date night stretched out in front of them.
"—and maybe have some Mommy and Daddy time, if you're up for it—"
"—when am I not up for that?" he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath her blouse.
"—and then we can eat this beautiful pasta in bed. Would you like that?"
Fitz sighs, letting the picture she's just painted sweep him away. "I would like that very much. You realize this all depends on him actually staying asleep, right?"
She kisses him slowly, teasing him with just a flick of her tongue. "I'm going to put him down right now. Meet me upstairs in ten minutes."
He follows her toward the living room and leans against the door frame, watching while she slowly scoops Micah up and cradles him against her chest. She murmurs to him softly when he stirs and rubs his face against her, easily settling him back into sleep.
"Ten minutes," she whispers as she walks by, winking at him.
She draws them a bath, as hot as they can stand it, with a few drops of essential oil that snake up into the steam escaping the water and perfume the air.
"Is it weird that we're now keeping a bar cart in our bathroom?" Fitz chuckles, pouring himself two fingers of his favorite scotch.
"Nope," she answers immediately, in the process of pulling her hair up, "We have the space. And why not? We're always up here at night anyway."
"I do love it," he grins, coming up to press a kiss behind her ear, "Feels decadent."
He sets his glass down next to hers on the side of the tub, and starts to ease himself into the hot water, sucking in a breath.
"Too hot?" she smiles, dimming the lights and unlooping the belt on her robe.
"No," he chuckles, settling down against the back of the tub, "It's going to feel so good in about ten seconds."
She hangs up her robe and makes her way back over to him, her body already warming when she sees the way he's unabashedly staring at her. She takes the hand he offers her to step into the water, lowering herself down to lay back against his chest. His lips land on her shoulder and she sighs deeply, sinking into the hot water.
"This was a very good idea," he murmurs, resting his head back against the bathtub.
"I know."
Fitz chuckles softly, feeling the last bits of tension from the day seep out. The longer they lay in the water, the more the day slips away from him; she can feel him relaxing behind her, and after a few minutes they're completely melded together, breathing in sync.
"He did say something really funny today," Fitz says softly, remembering.
She smiles, closing her eyes. "Tell me."
"When I told him it was time for nap? Instead of saying 'seriously?!', like, 'you can't be serious', you know?"
"Mmm-hmm—"
"—instead of saying 'seriously?!' he put his hands on his hips and looked at me, and said 'seriousness?!' With like, perfect inflection."
Olivia laughs, able to picture this easily.
"And I was like 'yeah, seriousness, it's time for nap'," he laughs, reaching for his scotch, "I didn't correct him, I'm hoping to keep that one around for a while."
"He's too much," she grins, cupping water in her palm, "Even when he's being sassy, he's cute."
"He had your sass today."
"Excuse me," she giggles, tipping her head back to look at him, "You love our sass and you know it."
"I do," he murmurs, grinning against her mouth, "I really do."
He kisses her slowly, pressing his tongue into her mouth, cradling her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
"Are you comfortable?" he asks, nuzzling her cheek.
She hums, drawing him into another kiss, sucking on his bottom lip. They're both warmed through now, heavy and lazy from the heat.
"How was your day, by the way? I haven't even asked you," he realizes, starting to absently run his hands over her.
Olivia sighs, closing her eyes again. "It was long. All-day interview prep. You remember what that's like."
"Mmm," he agrees, lightly tracing her belly with the pads of his fingers, "I remember. It's exhausting. How's she holding up?"
OPA is currently running point on a young female candidate's House campaign, free of charge.
"She's amazing," she says softly, shivering a little when his hands drift across her thighs, "She's going to get in, I'll get her elected. It's just a lot emotionally, you know? Building someone's confidence. Gaining their trust. She believes in her district with her whole heart—I need her to believe in herself like that, too."
"Well, let me know if I can help," he murmurs, "You know, from one candidate to another. Someone who's been in the hottest of all hot seats."
"You would do that?" she asks, looking up at him again.
He looks at her strangely. "Of course I would. I want to see fresh perspective in that building just as much as you do."
"I know. I just—you left that life behind, and understandably so. I guess I just didn't think about—thank you. I think it might really help, actually. I'd have to prepare her first though, I just got her to stop being star struck around me. I can't have President Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the third walking in unannounced."
Fitz chuckles, dipping his mouth to her neck. She moans softly as he presses warm, sucking kisses against her skin, content to take his time. He's been teasing her with the pads of his fingers for what feels like hours, and he finally adds a little bit of pressure, nudging her thighs open. Her breath catches and deepens when his hands stroke up the inside of her thighs, thumbs tracing circles higher and higher.
She grins and shivers, making a sound that's half laugh, half moan, pressing her nails into his forearms. He keeps up his slow, deliberate assault on her senses without really touching her, until she tries to turn over in his arms.
"Mmm-mmm," he murmurs, right against her ear, "I want you to come like this, first."
She sighs and melts back against him, hips flexing at the ache that runs through her core, clenching her muscles to try to soothe it. "Baby. Aching for you."
"I know," he soothes, smiling as he drags his mouth across her neck, "You're hard up, I can tell."
"Shut up," she laughs, groaning when he finally drags a long finger through her folds.
Her breaths deepen again and she tangles their hands together, rocking into the pressure. He presses his other palm against her belly to hold her still, and rolls his finger across her clit in a teasing massage. She's not slick enough in the water for him to slide across her, so he presses hard and moves without lifting the pad of his finger; quick, tiny movements that make her draw her knees back and press into him.
"Will you touch yourself for me?" he whispers, switching their grip so that her fingers are underneath.
She whimpers into his neck and nods. "Yeah. Can you—"
He's already reading her mind, reaching into the cart of bath products next to the tub for the lube they keep there. She shifts down a little more and reaches up to pull him into a kiss, cradling his face in both hands, sliding her tongue against his.
"Can you see?" she smiles, whispering into his mouth.
He bites his lip and nods, moaning softly into their next open-mouthed kiss. "Here."
"Just a little," she sighs, holding up two fingers, "Don't get it everywhere."
He chuckles and carefully squirts out a little bit of the slippery, silicone-based lube for her, putting the bottle away while she warms it between her fingers. At the same time, he reaches for a pump of body wash and rubs it between his hands, sliding his arms around her to massage her boobs, groaning into her neck.
"Oh god," she sighs, settling her fingers against her clit, rubbing with practiced ease, "That feels so good."
"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs, teasing her nipples into peaks, massaging rhythmically.
She sighs and touches herself more deliberately, letting her head loll back against his shoulder, moaning when traps her nipple between two fingers and starts to slide back and forth. There's pressure building everywhere, and the fact that he's watching her only adds to the heat of the moment. She circles her clit with one finger, rubbing and then flicking back and forth, belly contracting with each pass of his fingers around her nipples.
"…hah…ooh…"
"Make yourself come," he says softly, breathing against her cheek.
She's already there, pressing harder against her clit until an orgasm blooms through her core and down the tops of her thighs. She shivers and moans in his arms, stroking herself through it, panting and gasping when he reaches down and slides a thick finger inside of her.
"Fitz," she breathes, pulling him down into a kiss.
"Let's go fuck in bed," he rasps, between kisses, "Want you on your knees."
She hums and nods, kissing him slowly while she tries to catch her breath, gently fisting handfuls of his hair. He presses his thumb against her chin to get her to open more for him, groaning and kissing her deeply.
Sometimes, they let their relationship consume their entire consciousness. In the moments when they're swept up in sex, laughing and helping each other climb out of the bathtub without slipping, half-heartedly drying off between long kisses; in those moments they aren't parents. They're not political figures.
They're just Fitz and Olivia; they're just two people who can't exist without each other.
As soon as they're next to the bed she sinks to her knees on the carpet and sucks him into her mouth, completely taking him by surprise.
"I meant…ah…I didn't mean you should…jesus…fuck…"
She groans and works him over for a few minutes, until he pushes her away and pulls her back up onto her feet.
"I know exactly what you meant," she murmurs, running her hands over his hips, wrapping her hand around him, "I wanted to."
He grins and closes his eyes, thrusting into her hand a few times. "Get on the bed."
She hangs on his neck for a minute, humming and kissing him, and then she climbs onto their bed. He pulls two pillows over and stands behind her, kissing a trail down her back while she gets comfortable on her forearms, sliding her knees apart.
He presses inside her and groans against her back, rocking forward to kiss a line across her shoulders. She pants into the pillows, reaching back to rake her fingers through his hair, moaning when he starts to thrust into her.
For a little while, they're just Olivia and Fitz…
Tonight, they give each other all of their pent-up stress, sharing it, burning it off, fucking it away, until it's gone.
Moments later, they collapse onto the mattress, completely spent and blissed out.
Olivia blows a piece of hair away from her face, smiling as she catches her breath. "You know, I think we really needed that."
He looks over at her with a grin, nodding.
"Seriousness."
A/N: I took 'seriousness' from a story Kerry Washington told in an interview (the one with her MIL). I assume it was about her son although she didn't specifically say his name, but I thought it was so cute lol. I love when littles imitate adults and get it aaaaaalmost right but not quite. Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought!