Chapter Text
“I just don’t know about this, Lexa.”
“We live in the suburbs, Clarke, we’re the most dangerous things here,” you say, stepping in close to trap her between yourself and the kitchen counter, cupping her cheeks in your hands. She stubbornly refuses to look you in the eyes and it makes you smile. “This is a nice neighborhood and the full moon is literally two whole days away. There’s nothing to worry about.”
She looks at you now, a little bit of fear and reluctance clouding her eyes. You kiss her lightly on the tip of her nose and then softly on her lips and she curls her hands at your waist, keeping you close.
“The kids deserve a little bit of fun,” you mutter, noses touching.
“But something could go wrong.”
“We took that chance moving here. I know it’s not the woods, Clarke, but we can’t keep them from a harm we’re not even sure exists.”
You pull away when your ears pick up movement over in the living room and you glance over your shoulder, but you see nothing out of place. The lumps piled in blankets on the floor are still soundly sleeping and Clarke is waiting for you when you turn back around.
“They need to know how to deal with the real world or they won’t make it.”
“So your solution is to go trick or treating with them dressed as werewolves? Why don’t we just pee on every fire hydrant on the block.”
You narrow your eyes at her and she flinches at her own words. She leans forward to hide her face in the crook of your neck, a whine building low in her throat. “I’m sorry.” She exhales a shaky sigh and you can feel the warmth of her breath on your neck. “I just... They’re our kids and I don’t want them to get hurt.”
You rest your head against hers. “They’re strong. They’ll make it.”
“They’re all barely four,” Clarke counters, but she keeps her head where it is, tucked comfortably where your scent is the strongest and you can sense the spiral she’s about to sink into and maybe in retrospect that wasn’t the best thing to say. “Madi just turned eighteen months--”
“They’ll be okay.”
“They can’t even eat chocolate, Lexa.”
You can’t help quirking a smile at her expense. “You know that’s not true. In small doses it’s perfectly fine.”
She thumps her forehead onto your shoulder and you wrap you arms around her, swaying slightly in the silence of your kitchen. The quiet never lasts, at least not in this house, so you both learn to savor it.
“We’ll be with them the entire way,” you say, placing a kiss near her temple.
“Okay.” Clarke’s exhale is lost into your shirt and you hold her tighter.
“Jack sit still please,” Clarke says as she works furry gloves tipped with little fake claws on tiny hands. The five of them sit on your couch in various forms of dress and at least they're all happy and full from dinner (a beef stew recipe Clarke learned from her parents and it is to die for). Unfortunately that doesn’t make it any easier for you.
Madi giggles as you tug a furry hood with wolf ears down over her blonde hair and over her eyes, and you kiss her cheek before pulling it back up. “Hands, please,” you say, holding out your own and she pats hers against yours until you manage to hold her still to slip on the matching gloves.
Aden is next, the oldest of the five, and he is eager to please. He insists on putting the hat on himself and then helps you with the furry vest, putting his arms through the sleeves as you try to slip on his shoes. Patiently, he waits for you to zip him up and then holds out his hands for the gloves, clapping excitedly once they’re on.
Clarke lets you finish dressing Lily, reaching behind her for the container of kid’s face paint on the coffee table. She dips the brush into the black paint, starting at the far end with Danny, and paints the tip of her nose black. A curl finds her lips slowly until she’s grinning mischievously with her daughter as she adds whiskers across plump cheeks.
Danny growls playfully around her smile and you watch Clarke gently bump their foreheads together. “Easy there tiger. Save that energy for the walk home.”
You turn away just as Clarke finishes with Danny and you know you’ve been caught staring, but all Clarke does is lean over to place a kiss along your jaw before picking up where she left off.
“I want fangs,“ Jack demands, bouncing in his seat, jostling his sisters next to him, and Clarke tweaks his nose gently. He’s quick to hide his neck in preparation for tickles, but the torture never follows.
“You’ve already got those, buddy. You don’t need another pair.”
His pout only lasts a second or two before he forgets, the cold paint causing him to lean away, but Clarke chases after him with the brush, and his squeals are more laughter than anything else.
You sit beside her, content to watch as Madi holds two of your fingers captive in her gloved hands. She plays with them, turning them over to study them, and when Clarke moves from Lily to Aden you have to stop her from putting your fingers into her mouth and teething.
Clarke laughs softly beside you, cheeks dimpled as she tries to stop herself from smiling, but it doesn’t last and the sound is easily one of the prettiest things you have the pleasure of hearing.
Little Madi is last and she giggles her way through the paint Clarke applies to her nose and cheeks. You hold her hands so she doesn’t try to touch it while it dries and Clarke finally caps the paint with a satisfied nod of her head, surveying the results that line the couch, and while there’s straying hands and impatient squirming, you’d consider it an overwhelming success.
You find her eyes, offering a wide approving smile and she reaches out to run her fingers through your hair, pulling it back from your face and you lean into the touch. “Let me get changed and we can head out.”
You nod without really thinking, watching as Clarke stands. She stretches her arms above her head, back arching and her loose long-sleeve shirt riding up to expose the strip of skin above her sweatpants. She patters away, disappearing around the corner, and her footsteps echo on the hardwood of the stairs.
With Clarke gone, you’re the sole point of attention. Five pairs of eyes lock onto you and you lean forward from your recline against the coffee table, taking a moment to regard each one.
“You’re all going to behave, right?”
Aden nods enthusiastically, Jack bobs his head reluctantly, and Danny and Lily eye you like you’ve spoken to them in a different language. Madi has found your fingers again, gurgling quietly to herself, but you think she gets the gist.
Clarke returns wearing snug black jeans, carding her fingers through the mess of her hair and it’s wavy from being up all day, falling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She has four pillow cases, two she probably stole straight from your bed, and Jack scrambles from the couch, Aden, Danny, and Lily quick to follow. You haul yourself to your feet, picking Madi up and balancing her on your hip. She clutches at the sleeve of your tee and you kiss her forehead.
“You guys ready for a quick lap around the neighborhood?” Clarke asks, and a chorus of excited tiny voices is her answer. She crouches to hand each of them a pillow case, folding the edges back a few times so they’re not as long and then pushes off her knees to stand.
You wander closer until you’re just shy of touching her and it’s a simple thing to lean over and kiss her cheek.
The sun is just barely there when the lot of you manage to pile out of the house, Madi now tucked safely against Clarke’s front, cheek smushed on Clarke's shoulder and probably ready for another nap. You’re left with the pups, and the second you’re clear of the porch you dart off down the driveway and the stampede of little feet is quick to follow.
The road is quiet, no cars, and you inhale a deep breath of fresh air, the brisk october wind tugging your hair. You glance behind you, and the sight of the little ones bumbling quickly behind you, little legs working hard to catch up, makeshift bags trailing behind them in the breeze, is an image you hope stays with you forever.
You don’t stumble into bed until after midnight. After the kids are washed and teeth are brushed and they’re tucked in bed sound asleep. You change languidly, slipping into one of Clarke’s old worn t-shirts and stripping out of your pants, kicking them into the hamper in your closet.
Clarke isn’t far behind, dressed more comfortably in sweats, but she always did run colder than you. She lingers by your side, an arm slung low around your waist as you brush your teeth in the master bathroom. You smile at the sight of her in the mirror, her weight leaning heavily on you, and you knock your toothbrush on the rim of the sink before returning it to the cup beside the faucet and her head lifts from your shoulder.
“Can you make it to bed?” you tease, turning in the space she allows you until your face to face and you tilt your head to capture her lips gently with yours.
She hums low in her throat, her smile evident in the way she kisses you back, nipping lightly at your bottom lip. “With the right motivation maybe,” she says, pressing herself close, chest to chest.
You stumble out of the bathroom tripping over your own feet, giggling amid the random kisses pressed hastily to skin. The back of Clarke’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and you’re pulled willingly on top of her. Her hair's a mess against your dark sheets, cheeks flushed, and her hands find the curve of your back and the muscles there.
“The Jeffersons think we’re crazy,” Clarke mutters, tilting her head back. Your lips roam over her neck, open mouthed kisses that are more for you and the sensation of her skin. You’re only half paying attention.
“Let them,” you say, taking a moment to breathe, nosing at that spot just under her ear. She smells like candy and the pups and crisp october air. “They’re merely jealous”
Clarke laughs softly, her hands inching their way further under your shirt, her nails a gentle graze over your skin. You pull away slightly and her blue eyes seem to shine in the soft glow of your room. She lifts her head to kiss the tip of your chin before settling back against the sheets and you breathe out through your nose, feeling much too warm.
“Where’s all this optimism coming from, hmm?” she asks.
“I figured it was about time, don’t you think?” you say, looking down at her. She removes her left hand from under your shirt, reaching to tuck the errant strands of your hair back behind your ear. “We can build a future here. Our children can flourish here. Isn’t that what we’ve been after?”
She wraps her arms around your neck and drags you close and there’s something a little desperate in the way your lips meet. You exhale noisily through your nose, held up barely by your forearms bracketing her head and you can feel her breathe against you, but there’s a want in you to be closer, to have her all around you and it might be impossible, but that won’t stop you from trying.