Clexa Family Christmas AU
It wasn’t the sound of the rain drumming on the roof and windows that woke her, nor was it the vibrating of her phone, which lay in the tangled mess of sheets, December 25th, 7:00 AM displayed boldly on its glowing face. Instead, it was laughter that shook the blonde from her sleep. The sound spread itself through the house, carried on a wave of music being played much louder than the early morning hour justified. It drifted down hallways, crept up staircases, and floating through the crack in her bedroom door, whispering in Clarke’s ear that her life was waiting for her.
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Clarke groaned with annoyance, rubbing her legs together as she basked in the warmth of the bed a moment longer. Finally, she stretched, allowing her stiff limbs to adjust before she rose, groping in the semi-darkness for clothing. “Well, for more clothing,” she thought bitterly, grabbing her old, grey sweater off the back of an armchair chair. With a house full of children, and a wife whose rule was Mussolini-like when it came to adjusting the thermostats, Clarke had been forced to give up sleeping naked years ago. Clarke smiled, shaking her head as Lexa’s best hits about regarding the cost of heating replayed in her mind. “No higher than 60, 65 max, and that’s ONLY if it drops below freezing outside!” “We live in Seattle, not Anchorage!” “Put on a sweatshirt if you’re so cold!”
The sound of feet pummeling the floor, and the clink of a whisk as it rasped against the side a bowl brought her back to reality. Clarke pulled the woolen crew-neck over her head delicately, careful not to snag her fingers in any holes the time-tattered garment now sported She pulled her messy, blond hair into a loose bun, and slipped into the bathroom, where she scrubbed at her he teeth haphazardly, splashed her face with water. The cold liquid drove the last bit of sleepiness from Clarke’s mind, leaving her fully awake and ready to greet the day, the festivities, and the horde of people that were waiting downstairs. She toweled off, rubbing lotion onto her face as she made her way out of the bedroom.
Halfway into the hall, it was more than apparent where the riotous sounds of music and giggling were coming from. Clarke turned, striding toward the back stairs. She stopped to pick up a loose thermal shirt shirt that had been discarded in the hallway, groaning as she thought about all of the times she’d reminded her children that the floor was not a hamper She padded down the stairs without making a sound, creeping toward the door at the bottom, and turning the knob with calculated precision. She pushed the door open just a crack, allowing herself a moment to gaze, with uninterrupted adoration, at the scene just beyond.
The kitchen was buzzing with life and energy, as her wife and children danced around to the sound of Bobby Helms singing “Jingle Bell Rock.” Lexa was leaning against the kitchen counter, whisking a bowl of pancake batter as she made silly faces at their two youngest boys, Cody and Luke. The boys stood on chairs next to her, clad in aprons, and completely covered in flour. The boys were in hysterics, nearly falling over with laughter as they handed ingredients to their mother. Their oldest son, Reef, stood by the stove. The tall, quiet fifteen-year-old was clad in his soccer team sweats, his blonde hair a wild mess. He cast occasional glances over at Lexa and his brothers, laughing as he worked on cooking skillet full of turkey bacon. Dancing around the kitchen table, clad in nothing but a beanie, flannel pajama bottoms, and socks was Ben, Lexa’s seventeen-year-old brother. Three-year-old Sam, their youngest child, and only daughter clung to his back, giggling riotously as he bounced her up and down to the music.
Clarke smiled as the precious scene, her heart melting a little, The memory of the clothes strewn hallway, and too loud music, all but forgotten. As she watched she considered how, once upon a time, moments like this one had seemed out of their reach. She and Lexa had gone from an empty house to one that overflowed with children, from longing for a family to having one so big they often didn’t know what how to reign it in the chaos it created. Their schedules were jam-packed with playgroups, class field trips, and sports practices. Their home was teeming with noise, activities, and requests for the presence of one parent or the other. There were always clothes discarded in the hall, loose toys occupying the living room, and crumbs on every surface of the kitchen. Clarke loved it. She groaned when she reminded her children a hundred times a week to clean up after themselves, to be more conscientious, to be more responsible, but deep down she loved every overworked moment of being a parent. She loved the late night scramble to make costumes for plays, crouching in auditorium seats as she recording spelling bees, and going to parent-teacher conferences. She loved cheering from the sidelines during sports games, straightening ties before school dances, and coaching her children through their disappointments and heartaches. Most of all she loved seeing how amazing Lexa was with all of them. Moments like this one were living proof of that fact, and as Clarke gazed out at the warmth and happiness that filled the kitchen, she couldn’t help but thank whatever gods might be for the amazing wife she’d been blessed with.
She leaned against the door, causing it to groan with the strain. The noise immediately caught the attention of the kitchen’s occupants, whose eyes all snapped to the doorway. Lexa smiled as Clarke sheepishly pushed the door open, padding down the last steps into the kitchen.
“Uh-oh guys! Looks like we woke up Momma.”
Clarke shuffled over to Ben and Sam. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek, before handing Ben the thermal that she was still holding. “Honey, please, put on a shirt.”
Reef let out a riotous, belly-laugh, pointing at his uncle with an accusatory flick of the spatula in his hand. “He just wants to show off his abs! ”
Ben blushed, handed Sam to her mother, and accepting the shirt bashfully, pulling it over his head before he could be embarrassed any further. He stuck his tongue out at Reef, before giving him a knowing smirk. “You’re just jealous because Sarah Watkins has a picture of my abs taped up in her locker, and she can’t even remember your name.”
Reef turned on his heels as soon as the comment was made, his face seething with wounded pride. “She remembers my name!”
Clarke immediately intervened, not wanting the boy's ever-growing masculine rivalry to eclipse the moment of harmony she had walked in on. “Hey, hey, hey! None of that today!” She looked over at Ben sternly. He’d been living with them for over a year now, and Clarke had to admit, she had a special fondness for the charming, witty teenage boy. None-the-less, he was occasionally fond of pushing the envelope, and knowing that he’d given a risqué picture of himself to some girl wasn’t going to fly with Clarke. She leaned over to him, whispering quietly in his ear.
“Mister, that better not be true about a girl having a half-naked picture of you in her locker.” She leaned in closer to him, using her most serious tone as she continued. “Because if it is, I’m calling Principal Spaulding as soon as school starts again, and getting the number for that girl's parents. Clarke narrowed her eyes for added effect. “Fix yourself, pronto.”
Ben turned bright red, biting his bottom lip as he realized the error of his omission. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Her disciplinary duties dispensed with, Clarke went about the business of greeting the rest of her family. She walked up behind Reef, fifteen, and taller than her by almost a foot. Now in high school, Reef had taken to resisting displays of physical affection at every opportunity. Today, however, he seemed to be taking a sabbatical from the surly teenager act he had recently adopted. He allowed her to wrap him in a bear hug and kiss his cheek.
Clarke smiled at being allowed to shower her son in affection. “Thank you for helping your mother with breakfast, sweetie.”
Her tall, broad son smiled down at her as he continued to flip the bacon he was cooking. “Sure thing, mom. Merry Christmas.”
She gave him another kiss on the cheek for good measure. “Merry Christmas, baby boy.”
Lexa, cleared her throat loudly, giving Clarke a serious look as she traded places with Reef at the stove. “Hey, where’s my good morning kiss?”
Clarke rolled her eyes as she pressed a hand to Lexa’s cheek, and gave her a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips, much to the chagrin of their children, who made gagging noises in the background. She rolled her eyes, kissing Lexa deeper in response, and tasting the pancake batter and toothpaste on her wife’s lips. A moment later Clarke felt a tiny body collide with her, as Cody wrapped himself around one of her legs and clung to it. Clarke broke away from her wife and placed a hand on his tiny blonde head.
“Hello, baby! Were you helping mommy cook?”
Nearly six, the tiny boy was always keen to share his accomplishments with his mother, and he nodded eagerly as he smiled up at her. “I helped a lot!”
Lexa broke away from cooking pancakes for a moment, and bent down, kissing the top of his head gingerly. “Yes you did, little man. You were momma’s big, little helper.”
“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” Luke’s indignant voice rose from the sink, where he stood, washing the flour off of his face.
Clarke made her way over to their middle son, grinned like a Cheshire cat. “How could I forget you!” She snatched him around the waist and began peppering his face with kisses as the third-grader stuck out his tongue and made faces.
“Ew, mom!”
A few moments of torture and Clarke finally placed him down, giggling as the boy rubbed at his cheeks. “Mom, you’re gonna give me cooties.”
Clarke knelt down in front of his and winked. “Mom’s don’t give you cooties, Luke. That little girl that I saw you holding hand with, when I picked you up from school the other day though, she definitely might.”
The entire kitchen erupted into ew’ing and aw’ing as Luke blushed and returned to washing his hands. “Mom, Rebecca is just a friend!”
Clarke smiled at her son, giving him a final kiss for good measure before grabbing a mug from the cupboard and filling it with coffee. She walked back over to Lexa, still busy at the stove, and rested her head on the brunette’s shoulder.
“Baby, I’ve been so busy this week I still haven’t had a chance to do anything with the tree.”
Clarke frowned as she thought about giant green fir sitting in their living room, naked except for the few ornaments that she’d managed to place haphazardly, before running off to one of the children’s Christmas concerts.
Clarke kissed Lexa’s temple softly, sighing at the thought of how much work it would take to finish the decorations. “Baby, as amazing as this smells, I think I should probably go finish it. I want it to look perfect when the kids open their presents.”
Lexa smiled, tilting her head so she could kiss her wife on the nose. Every year since they married, Clarke had made a big deal out of decorating their Christmas tree. It was a sacred tradition for the blonde, and something that she’d done, every year, with her own family, growing up. This year, however, between work, and sports, and school, and clubs, everyone had been too busy to help. Even Clarke herself had been unable to find much time, owing to the numerous double shifts she’d worked in order to accommodate their household’s overflowing financial needs. Clarke hadn’t complained, but Lexa knew that the waylaying of the tradition was bothering her.
“Baby, are you sure? I don’t think the kids will mind if the tree isn’t decorated this year. We understand how busy you are.”
Clarke sighed, nuzzling deeper into Lexa’s shoulder and inhaling the scent of the honeysuckle shampoo that always lingered there. “It’s fine. I know it’s silly, but I want Christmas to be perfect for the kids. It should be big deal. Save me some breakfast though, ok?”
With that, Clarke made her way through the door into the living room, freezing dead in her tracks when she registered the sight that was waiting for her there. The naked, unadorned tree that had been sitting in the corner of the room only the night before was dressed to the nines in ornaments, ribbons, and tinsel. Strings of lights had been meticulously wrapped around it, and they glowed white and yellow against the dim, morning light of the living room. Presents were stacked neatly under the tree, every one of them wrapped precisely, and placed in the appropriate pile.
The setup couldn’t have been more perfect if Clarke had spent weeks putting it together, and what was more, the living room had been cleaned, top to bottom. Throw pillows were in the appropriate places, the carpet had been vacuumed, toys had been put away. All the normal clutter that littered the room was gone, replaced by a picturesque scene, straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Clarke set her mug on the coffee table and made her way over to the tree, noting that all of the ornaments she loved the most, the ones the children had made, were displayed prominently on the front. She brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears as she felt a set of arms snake around her waist and pull her close. Lexa’s soft lips were on her temple a second later.
“Merry Christmas, Baby.”
Clarke wiped at her eyes as warm tears cascaded from them, dripping down her cheeks. “When did you manage to do all of this in?”
“I woke up at 3 A.M. and worked on it until dawn.”
Clarke sniffed, trying to pull herself together at the thought of her wife working tirelessly through the night to put everything together. “You did this all for me?”
Lexa pulled her wife in closer, rocking her in her arms and kissing her sweetly as hummed a response. “Mmhm. I knew how important it was to you, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you being disappointed on Christmas.”
Clarke spun around in Lexa’s arms and cupped her cheeks, and pressing their bodies together. When she kissed her it was deep and passionate, and irreverent. It made Lexa feel as though they were nineteen again, making out for the first time, under the lights of a college stadium. When Clarke finally pulled away, they were both out of breath. Lexa closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Clarke’s, smiling as she held her crying wife. “Baby’s it’s not a big deal. It was nothing.”
Clare shook her head, sniffing as she wrapped her hands around the back of Lexa’s neck. “It’s everything.” She kissed the bridge of the brunette’s nose, sniffed as her tears dripped onto Lexa’s chest. I can’t believe you did this by yourself.”
Lexa chuckled a little as she kissed Clarke’s brow. “Well, it wasn’t exactly by myself.”
“I helped,” a voice echoed from behind them.
“And me.”
“Me too!”
Clarke peered over her shoulder to see her all of her children standing side by side, beaming at her as they issued her a merry Christmas in unison. Clarke couldn’t manage words anymore, and so she simply waved them forward, toward her and Lexa. The pack descended upon them all at once, arms wrapping around bodies until the whole family was embracing one another in the middle of the living room.
From inside the huddle of people, Clarke beamed at Lexa through watery eyes, as she mouth an “I love you,” Lexa winked, her lips forming the words “I know,” silently.
Gathered around one another as they were, no one noticed that the sound of the rain drumming on the roof and windows had stopped. Outside, the wet drops had turned to soft white snowflakes. They covered the tiny house in a blanket of white, while inside, the small pack revealed in the simple pleasures family, and love, and being together.