The Wine We Drink
Summary: You are the one thing that I know...
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Notes: Yet another addition to the "I Belong with You" series. This installment is rated M. (I haven't written a sex scene in awhile so it sucks. Sorry.) Lyrics at beginning are from "The Wine We Drink" by the amazing Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors.
It's in the wine we drink, dirty dishes in the kitchen sink,
and the lights go out til the sun comes up; we are not alone.
It's in the miles we drive, never having to say goodbye
to the things we tell each other without saying a word.
You are the one thing that I know.
From the outside, it's a mundane life. A settled life. A life of routine, of careers and dishes and laundry and running children from activity to activity while trying to catch their breath in between settling their kids' daily squabbles and managing two active businesses and all the other day-to-day responsibilities of their lives. They handle it together, because they're a team, husband and wife, them against the world. It's been that way since they were sixteen years old and falling head over heels in love in the blink of an eye.
It's a quiet, simple life, far removed from the days of the NBA and rock tours and screaming fans and autographs.
And it's more than Nathan Scott ever dreamed of having.
Growing up with Dan and Deb Scott as his parents, Nathan didn't have much hope of ever having a normal, steady life. Marriage and kids didn't mix with the NBA, or so he figured. And after all, the NBA was his dream, his one chance of getting out from under his dad's thumb.
Then he met Haley James and everything he thought he knew and wanted changed.
So here he sits, nearly twenty years later, and his life is a far cry from his boyhood dreams.
No multitudes of women streaming in and out of his door. Just the one woman who completely changed his life and has had his heart since he was sixteen.
No jetting off for fancy vacations to tropical locations. Disney World is more his speed nowadays.
No staying up late, partying with anyone and everyone, while indulging in all the vices life has to offer. Now it's more bed-by-eleven, gummy vitamins, and drinking a glass of water between every beer to curb a hangover.
No carefree life with no responsibilities. Instead it's paying bills, taking care of his kids and Haley, housework, yard work, and all the other sundry responsibilities that form his life.
Yes, it's a quiet, simple life. Boring, some might say. And it is everything to Nathan.
"MOM! Where's my backpack?"
"Dad, tell Andrew to get out of my room! Get out, brat!"
"Nathan, did you put the clothes in the dryer last night? Lydia needed that shirt for this morning!"
"DADDY! Lydia pushed me!"
From the moment he opens his eyes this morning, his house is a cacophony of yelling and showers running and dishes clinking and fists pounding on doors and feet stomping down the stairs and all he wants to do was pull the pillow over his head and go back to sleep.
He's doing that when his wife walks into their bedroom, and Nathan swears he can feel daggers in his back, so icy is her glare.
"Nathan Scott, what are you still doing in bed? You have to drive Lydia and Drew to school since Jamie is leaving in a few minutes for an early practice. And I thought you were going to put the clothes in the dryer last night? Now Lydia can't wear her softball shirt because it's soaking wet and… Nathan, are you even listening to me?!"
He groans his assent and forces himself to turn over to face his wife. His beautiful, kind, loving Haley, who looks like she is two seconds away from strangling him.
Nathan sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and nods to his wife. "I'm up, I'm up. Let me just take a quick—"
"Your shower better take five minutes, buddy, or I'll be forced to come in there," Haley says, rolling her eyes at the quick grin he shoots her. "And believe me, it won't be fun like the other times. I'm already late to the café, and Lydia and Drew are about to kill each other. I need you to make sure blood isn't shed before school. We don't have time for the hospital this morning."
"Sure you don't have time for a shower?"
"Nathan, I'm serious. I was supposed to open the café for Brooke this morning and—"
"Alright, babe. I'll take care of it. Quick shower and then referee. Got it."
He stumbles out of bed, grabbing Haley around the waist and pulling her to him. He plants a long, slow kiss on her lips, savoring the slight taste of the coffee she had earlier mixed with the minty hint of her toothpaste.
They pull apart and he grins at the slightly dazed look in his wife's eyes. "Good morning, Hales."
Haley smiles and pinches his bare bottom, laughing at his squeal. "Off to the shower. And I'll take a rain check for tonight on your earlier offer."
"Yeah?"
She slowly peruses his body, her gaze lingering long enough Nathan feels himself slightly blushing, and her smile turns into a Cheshire-sized grin. "Oh yeah."
His day suddenly looking much brighter, Nathan whistles as he enters their bathroom.
His good mood lasts approximately the five minutes of his shower.
Entering their kitchen, he is greeted with a glare from his ten year old daughter and a huffed "Dad! I can't wear my softball shirt to school because it's still soaking wet! You were supposed to put it in the dryer last night!" and his almost five year old barreling into his legs and nearly taking him out.
"Oof, buddy!" Nathan grunts as he tries to wrangle the rambunctious boy.
"Dad," Lydia whines, "you've ruined today!"
Untangling himself from his son, Nathan makes his way over to the coffee pot and pours a large cup, steeling himself for the forthcoming confrontation.
"And how did I manage to ruin today, Lyds?"
She sighs in the way only a ten year old girl can. "Because," she drawls, "the team is supposed to wear our blue shirt today."
"Can't you wear the white one instead? It's just a shirt, Lydia."
"But we're taking our team picture today and now I'm going to be the loser in the white shirt while everyone is wearing blue!"
Nathan grimaces. He was unaware of the team photo. "I'm really sor—"
"Dad, Dad, Dad, Daddy!" Drew interrupts, "I have to pee!"
"Gross, Drew! No one needs to know that," Lydia squeals. "You're so gross!"
"I am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
Before Nathan can tell them to be quiet, Jamie rushes into the room, grabbing a banana from the counter before heading out the door. "Hi, bye. Gonna be late and coach is going to kill me!"
"Wait, Jamie!" Drew calls out to his brother. He is fascinated with Jamie, always wanting to be around the older boy.
"Can't, squirt! See you later!" And with that, Jamie leaves the house and Drew promptly begins crying.
"Hey, hey, buddy, what's wrong? Jamie'll be back this afternoon," Nathan reassures his son as he bends down to comfort the crying boy.
Lydia rolls her eyes at Drew's display. "You're such a baby."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Are TOO!"
"What is going on in here?" Haley exclaims as she walks into the kitchen. "Lydia, stop teasing your brother. Drew, if you need to go potty, go. Stop dancing around Daddy. And Lydia, Daddy will put your shirt in the dryer right now," she eyes Nathan, who nods his assent, before continuing, "and then he'll bring the shirt to your school, okay? Your picture's not until this afternoon. Okay? Okay."
"Fine," Lydia grumbles as she hops off the stool and grabs her backpack. "I'm going to wait on the front porch."
"I'm going potty," Drew yells as he runs down the hall to the guest bathroom. "I'm going potty!"
"No need to yell, Andrew," Haley scolds. "Don't forget to wash your hands, little man!"
Turning to Nathan, she quirks an eyebrow. "You got this?"
Nathan rolls his eyes. "Yes, Hales. I do know how to take care of our children. Been doing it for seventeen years."
"Haha. Just please make sure Lydia gets her shirt before one o'clock this afternoon. And remember, Drew—"
"Has a doctor's appointment at two. Don't worry, babe. I have a conference call at noon, so I'll be done in plenty of time to pick him up from preschool and get him to the doctor's."
Glancing at her watch, Haley gasps. "God, I am so late. Bye, babe." Yelling out a goodbye to her youngest son, she presses a quick kiss to her husband's cheek. "I have a session at the studio later this afternoon. Can you get supper on for the kids? Menu's on the fridge – take out the chicken breasts before you leave to let them thaw out."
"Sure."
"Great, see you tonight!" And with a final wave, Haley is out the door.
Before the front door even shuts, Nathan hears an "uh-oh" from the bathroom followed by Andrew yelling for him.
Grimacing, Nathan grabs a roll of paper towels before walking down the hall to check on his son.
One accident clean up, two conference calls, three texts from Lydia asking where is her softball shirt because OMG Dad they're taking our picture at eleven and I need the shirt and pleeeeeeeeease bring it, and four texts and phone calls from his wife reminding him of Andrew's doctor's appointment (which they were late for because of said conference calls), Nathan drags himself and his two youngest children home, all three exhausted from their respective days.
Cries of "Dad, what's for supper? I'm starving!" and "Daddy, I'm so hungry, I want pizza! No, chicken nuggets! No, Lunchables! No, hot dog weenies! Yeah, hot dog weenies!" emerge before he can set his briefcase, Lydia's backpack (which she swore she was just toooooooooo tired to carry), and Drew's most recent preschool art masterpiece (Drew said it was a momma duck and her baby, Nathan thought it more closely resembled scrambled eggs) on the kitchen island.
"Okay, kids, let's see what's on the menu for tonight," Nathan says as he places his load on the island and walks over to the fridge. He smiles as he thinks of his wife's insistence on using the color-coded, perfectly organized calendar. With three kids' and their active schedules, plus his and Haley's various obligations, the calendar – with its daily lunch and dinner menus, and each member of the Scott family having his or her own assigned color in order to keep track of appointments and activities - is a godsend. An extremely dorky one, as he never fails to tease his wife, but a godsend nonetheless.
Glancing at the menu for tonight, he affects a French accent as he says, "Monsieur, mademoiselle tonight you will be enjoying green beans, corn, some fruit, and grilled chicken at Chez Scott."
"Daddy," Drew giggles as Lydia rolls her eyes but can't hide her grin at his antics.
Continuing the charade, Nathan grabs a nearby dishtowel and places it over his arm. He bows before the kids, both children laughing at his silly behavior.
"Mademoiselle Lydia, may I ask what beverage you will be drinking tonight? We have the finest apple juice brought here all the way from the Kroger grocery store. We also have milk from only the most magnificent cows in all the land, and of course, the very best water from our very own faucets."
As Lydia thinks over the choices, Nathan turns to his son and asks, "And what will sir be enjoying this evening?"
"Daddy, my name is Andrew!"
"Quite right, Mr. Andrew, quite right. As you two decide what you would like to drink, Chef Daddy will begin preparing your meal."
Nathan turns back to the refrigerator and opens the door, looking for the pack of chicken breasts he had placed in there earlier this morning. He swears he put them right there on the middle shelf. He had opened the freezer and grabbed the bag, but then Andrew had called for him again and in his hurry to get to his son he—
Oh no.
Oh no.
He risks a glance in the freezer and confirms, yep, the pack of chicken breasts was still there. Completely frozen.
Although his wife is normally very easy-going, she is a stickler for the menus ("they are growing children, Nathan, and need proper nutrition, not just loaded up with pizza and burgers all the time" was her favorite refrain); however, Haley is still at the studio and he has two children – make that three as he hears the front door slam and his oldest son bellow a greeting of "what's for supper?" – to feed.
Time for an executive decision.
"Alright, who's in the mood for pizza?"
Two hours later, the kids are fed, Andrew is bathed and in bed, Lydia is finishing her homework, and Jamie is on the phone with Madison (he swears they're just friends, but both Nathan and Haley have their suspicions something more is happening), and Nathan is flipping channels in the living room, waiting for his wife to come home.
She arrives as a whirlwind of motion and hasty apologies for being so late but she had a breakthrough on the song she had been struggling with and she and Chris wanted to get it right and next thing she knew it was after eight o'clock and how was dinner and is Drew in bed?
And then she notices the empty pizza boxes and dishes piled in the sink, and Nathan winces at her huffed, "Pizza, Nathan? Really?" (Shit, he forgot to throw away the boxes.)
"Sorry, babe," he says as he scrambles off the couch and into the kitchen. "Things were hectic this morning and I forgot to take out the chicken to thaw. The kids were starving so I just figured it'd be easy to do pizza."
He reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of Haley's favorite wine. He pours her a glass and hands it to her. "Peace offering?"
Unable to resist the lure of wine and her husband's hopeful grin, she grabs the glass. "Fine. I guess the menu can wait," she says as she takes a long gulp of wine.
Raising his eyebrows, he laughs. "Long day?"
"I was working with 'The Keller' for hours, what do you think?" Haley retorts.
"C'mon, let's go sit on the couch and you can tell me all about it," Nathan says as he refills her glass and grabs a glass for himself.
They settle onto the couch, Haley curled up against him with her legs tucked underneath her, and they discuss their day.
Nathan loves these moments, these simple, quiet moments where it's just him and Haley, the way it's always been.
The way it always will be.
After they debate on leaving the dirty dishes in the sink (Haley insists on cleaning up; Nathan insists he'll make Jamie do them in the morning), get Lydia into bed, and make sure Jamie is off the phone with Madison ("I swear, we're just friends!") and starting his homework, Nathan and Haley settle into their room. As she turns back from shutting the door to their bedroom, Nathan cups Haley's face in his hands and gives her a long, slow kiss.
"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?" she asks when they break apart.
Nathan grins and shrugs. "Realized I hadn't kissed you since this morning."
"Can't have that, can we?" she murmurs as she pulls him back for another kiss, this one leaving him hard and aching. "Nathan," she whispers against his lips, "I'm ready to cash in my rain check from this morning."
Familiar smirk firmly in place, Nathan all but trips over himself in his rush to get to the bathroom. "Strip, woman!" he commands from the bathroom as he turns on the water in the massive shower to get warm.
Laughing at her husband's constant desire to get her naked, even after nearly twenty years of marriage, Haley begins removing her jewelry and her clothes, carefully laying each item of clothing on the bed. She is not surprised in the least when Nathan emerges from the bathroom, fully nude, and nearly whining at her apparently too slow process.
"C'mon, Hales, you know your clothes are just going to get thrown on the floor anyway."
"Nathan Scott, you will do no such thing! Give me a minute and let me hang this up and then I'll- Nathan!" she shrieks when he crosses the room and throws her over his shoulder before marching into the bathroom. Huffing in indignation, but enjoying the view of his rear, she says, "You don't have to manhandle me, you know."
"You were going too slow. My god, woman, you're still in your underwear! You were taking forever!"
"Well, not all of us strip down in two seconds, Mr. I'm-Getting-Laid."
"Don't they say something like, efficiency is next to godliness?"
Haley rolls her eyes. "That's cleanliness."
"Whatever," he states as he puts her down. He reaches into the shower to check the temperature of the water. Satisfied, he turns to Haley, staring at the black lace bra and panties and wondering why they aren't in a crumpled pile on the floor already.
Does he have to do everything around here?
He steps toward his wife and runs his hands through her hair before trailing them down her sides and resting on her hips. Most of the time she is Haley, his wife, his best friend, the person who saved his life. But at moments like this, a light blush coloring her cheeks (he marvels at the fact that he can still make her blush after all this time), her gaze fairly screaming how much she wants him as her teeth catch her lower lip, he is reminded…
His wife is fucking sexy as hell.
Twisting the edge of her panties in his fingers, he pops it against her skin, smirking at her softly uttered "ouch" and her lips turning into a frown.
"Maybe I should kiss and make it better." Before she can say anything, he is on his knees before for her, her panties are around her ankles, and he is pressing a kiss to the soft curls covering her mound.
"Ooohhh, Nathan," Haley breathes out as she grabs his head to keep him doing that… right there… "Oh god…."
With one final lick, he stands and, in a move borne from years of experience, undoes his wife's bra with one hand and lets the garment fall to the floor. He crashes his lips against hers in a kiss that threatens to generate more steam than the still-running shower as his hands cover her breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh. His fingers pluck at her hard nipples, causing his wife to whimper and press against him. Backing to the shower, he grins against Haley's lips when her feet get tangled in her panties and she impatiently shakes the underwear away.
"Bed. Now," she growls as she maneuvers him around and pushes him back towards the bedroom.
He loves a feisty Haley.
His knees hit the side of the bed and he falls backwards, Haley immediately climbing on the bed to straddle his waist. She scoots back just enough so that his cock is pressed against the cheeks of her bottom and laughs at his guttural "Oh god."
"Like that, baby?"
Nodding frantically (nothing has ever felt better in Nathan's opinion), his hands clutch her hips, his fingers digging into her skin when she reaches behind to stroke his hard length. Her touch is warm and firm and Nathan nearly comes at the first touch.
(Scratch that, nothing has ever felt better than this.)
He loves when Haley teases, when her hand is stroking him just so, and her fingers are tickling right there…
He is like a violin and his wife is a goddamn virtuoso.
Any other thought flies from his mind when Haley rises to her knees, a saucy grin on her face, and positions his cock at her entrance. She rubs the tip of him against her clit and Nathan swears he can feel his nerves melting from the sheer pleasure.
Never above begging (when it comes to Haley James Scott, Nathan is never above anything), he is ready to beg when his wife grants his unspoken wish and sits herself fully on him. Both groan at the sensation of being fully joined. Sitting up, Nathan grips the back of Haley's neck and pulls her into a kiss, his tongue wrestling with hers. His eyes roll back in his head when she clenches her inner walls against his cock, and he has to pull away to take a deep breath.
Haley James will be the death of him one day. But what a way to go.
She begins to slowly ride him and Nathan is fascinated by the sway of her breasts as she moves against him. Cupping them in his hands, he is rewarded by her hiss of pleasure as he begins his slow torture.
He loves when Haley teases but more than that, he loves to tease…
"Yes, Nathan, mmm, pinch harder…"
Both are lost in the lovelustheat sweeping their bodies. Nathan removes his hands from her breasts – to Haley's audible displeasure – and braces them against the bed in order to provide more leverage when he meets Haley's downward thrusts. Placing her hands on his shoulders, Haley rides him faster and Nathan meets her urgency.
He can feel his climax building, and one hand slips to where they are joined. He groans at the sticky wetness that coats his fingers and uses the moisture to slipslide over her clit. The touch sends Haley shattering, her walls clenching rhythmically around his cock, and she slumps against him. With a few more thrusts, Nathan erupts with a shout. Spent, he falls backwards on the bed, pulling Haley down with him. She snuggles into his chest, her fingers idly tracing patterns on his sweaty chest.
"Well, that certainly was an acceptable make up from this morning," Haley laughs, and at the sound, Nathan's heart is so full of love for this woman, this life that she's given him, that he is left speechless.
She notices his silence and props up on his chest, one hand reaching up to trace his cheek. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Not trusting himself to speak, he simply shakes his head. How can he ever tell this woman, this incredible, beautiful, amazing woman who changed his life immeasurably from the moment he met her, what all she means to him? Haley's always been the one with the words, with just the right thing to say at just the right time. He always bumbles and fumbles around, never able to fully express what he means to say.
But as she always does, Haley understands him without a word. Her gaze softens and she leans forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I know, babe, I know. Me too."
It's a simple, quiet life. And it is everything.
Fin