Coming Home
Lexa comes inside quietly, shedding her winter layers at the doorway. She hangs up her coat and scarf on the rack that hangs from the wall next to the door, and neatly slots her boots in the open spot on the floor between Aden’s sneakers and Clarke’s canvas slides.
It’s late, not too late, but well past dinner time, and she doesn’t know if Clarke has gone to bed yet and she doesn’t want to wake her if she has. So she keeps her steps light and quiet, as she stows her left overs from the restaurant in the refrigerator, and proceeds to do a once over of the house before bed.
Lexa tiptoes into the master bedroom with a small armful of laundry in tow, which mostly consists of Aden’s socks that are somehow too difficult for him to pick up, and proceeds to deposit them into the hamper in their shared walk-in closet. She spies Clarke’s form, pretty curves and blonde hair, tucked snugly under the linens of their bed. A smile blooms across her face.
Lexa brushes her teeth and readies for bed quickly; changing into a ratty old Polis U t-shirt, a fresh pair of boxers, and fuzzy socks. The house is a bit nippy, despite the heater doing it’s best, but she can’t find her favorite oversized pajama pants with the little raccoons on them anywhere. So she sprints awkwardly in the chilly dark room to the refuge of their bed, knowing Clarke will radiate warmth beneath the covers.
The bed is cozy and nearly too warm once she settles under the layers of linens and beside Clarke. Lexa snuggles close, shifting her body until she’s big spooning Clarke, and settles with one arm tucked under her pillow and the other wrapped protectively around Clarke’s middle. Lexa closes her eyes, contentment emanating from her core and manifesting in another smile.
Clarke suddenly changes positions beside her, turning to face her, so Lexa pops an eye open just to check on her. Clarke’s midnight blue eyes still shine brightly in the dark, especially when she’s grinning at Lexa like that. Clarke steals a sweet kiss and Lexa gives her another freely, just for good measure.
Clarke’s sweet and semi-groggy voice asks, “How was dinner, babe?” Lexa adjusts herself to conform around Clarke’s new position before answering, “It was fine, Costia chose a little Greek place that was pretty good. Aden ate way too much baklava.” They both chuckle at that, Aden’s sweet tooth having become somewhat of running joke in the family.
“I love that you guys have your monthly dinners together,” Clarke says as she rests her head next to Lexa’s on the same pillow, their foreheads touching. Lexa slots a knee between Clarke’s legs and her fingers dip under her top to draw lazy circles across Clarke’s tummy. “Aden wanted to stay with Cos for the weekend, so we have the house to ourselves.” Clarke responds with a kiss that grows more passionate with every passing second.
Between kisses and breathy moans, Lexa strips Clarke of her night clothes, and in doing so finds her missing pajama pants. Clarke reciprocates the action but leaves Lexa’s fuzzy socks in place, citing how her toes always feel like little ice cubes against her skin. They enjoy each other thoroughly in the darkness of their bedroom; wrapped up in soft blankets, sweaty extremities, and tender embraces.
Once pulses finally settle, the pair curl into each other to sleep, Lexa the big spoon once again. With their breathing finally evening out, bodies sated and exhausted, Lexa is almost asleep when she feels it. For the first time. Clarke takes her hand and adjusts it slightly over the swell of her stomach, “Looks like we woke someone up!” Lexa’s chest swells as she snuggles closer into Clarke, all the while keeping her hand in place to feel the tiny kicks of their unborn baby. “I haven’t felt a baby kick since I was pregnant with Aden,” she mumbles sleepily against the soft and slightly salty skin of Clarke’s neck. Clarke squeezes her hand a little tighter before they both succumb to the throws of sleep.